A Pirate's Love

A Dance with Jack Ketch

Jake's POV:

Daylight slowly crept through the crags in the wall, making it harder to concentrate on sleep. My body ached from being stuck in the same position all night, shivering to keep warm. My sore, dry eyes refused to open, holding me in a dormant state. I groggily stretched my stiff legs from a fetal position, only for my left calf to cramp. My eyes shot open as the pain shot up my hamstring, making me grab my leg and yelp out at the strain. The muscles contorted and twinged mercilessly under the skin, and I desperately rubbed at them, attempting to relieve the spasm. Eventually, the cramp subsided, leaving my leg sore and tingling. I huddled my arms to my chest and caught my breath, hoping I could sleep as I had been expecting all night. Rustling and murmuring sounded behind me, signaling that hope would never come true. I laid on my back and turned toward the noise, seeing Dan huddled in the corner of his cell and whispering into his hands. I listened carefully to make out his words, yet he spoke in a dialect I did not recognize. Was it gibberish, or was it a language? I could not decipher what he was uttering.

Suddenly, the door to the hall rattled and swung open, sending three guards marching in. I sat up on my hands, half expecting to be taken up and beaten once more. To my surprise, they walked quickly past my cell to the end of the hall and unlocked Dan's cell door.

"No," he urged, "you can't bother me now! I'm not finished!" They silently entered his cell and forcefully pulled him to his feet. He fought back desperately, keeping his hands cupped in front of him. "No, don't take me," he called out again. "I'm not finished! You can't!" One of the guards vigorously punched him in the gut to shut him up, leaving him squalling for air. His cupped hands parted and flew to his stomach, trying to ease the blow. They released his chains from the wall and began dragging him out of the cell. "Don't let them take me!" He screamed in a high-pitched squeal. He strangely sounded like a small boy. We locked eyes as they passed my cell, and he gave me the most desperate expression I had ever seen as if he were breaking in their grasp.

"Don't let them take me, Jake, please!" They dragged him out of the hall and out of my sight, yet I could still hear his screaming. "No! Jake, don't let them take me! Jake!" A brief pang of grief flooded my chest, knowing they were taking him to the gallows. Today was the day he would die, as fate had called for. That brief pang of grief quickly dissipated as my thoughts turned elsewhere. Today was the day we would all be liberated from his custody of us. My mind turned to that of Elenor, how the sight of him might disturb her. He deserved what was coming to him, primarily because of the torture he had put her through.

Keys jangling sounded through the hall again, and two guards appeared in front of my cell. I silently rose to my feet as they unlocked the heavy iron door, my leg still slightly aching. One grasped my arm as the other unhooked my chain from the wall. I complied as they pulled me forward and out of the cell, not wanting to risk another beating. They led me through the gaol and outside, stopping me in front of a large, boxy carriage teamed by two bay geldings. The sun was high in the sky, blinding my eyes. A guard waited for us at the carriage's door, ready to take me in. "This one goes to the Governor," the guard holding me told him. He nodded in response, then opened the door. I was shoved inside the dark cabin and then chained to the floor for security. The door was closed shut, enveloping me in darkness, and then a sudden sniffle sounded from the other end of the cabin. I squinted my eyes to adjust to the dark, then noticed a man sitting across from me with a burlap bag over his head. He whined and whimpered at his fate, making me realize the man I was sitting with was Dan. Exhausted, I tried to rest my head on the cabin wall, only to be jolted off as the carriage began moving. I closed my eyes and removed my head from the wall, feeling uncomfortable.

"Who's there?" Dan asked, a hint of panic in his tone. I debated answering him, yet exhaustion won over.

"It's me, Dan. It's Jake," I answered, my throat dry and hoarse.