There is nothing worse for a pirate than dying on dry land. Except, maybe, swinging two feet above it.
When their captain is imprisoned, facing the gallows, the men and women of the Lady Lesya's crew will try everything to break him out--even if it...
Facing darkness, Etienne couldn't remember the dream. Images eluded him, leaving only sensations in their wake. Fear, despicable, liquifying his bowels. Loss, unbearable, digging a hole in his chest. Anger, salutary, burning inside his skull.
"Hey! You alright there?"
The voice, harsh and husky, sounded like an echo of too many drinks and smokes. Etienne tried to figure out where it came from. In vain. He ran a hand across his face and focused on breathing. Fear died in a last gurgle. Loss receded, crouched in the void that replaced his heart, never really tamed. Anger spread to hold Etienne in friendly arms, sustaining him as it had for years now. He wasn't alright, no. He hadn't been for a long time now, but he kept on living.
"Not very talkative, are you?"
Etienne grunted.
"Bah... Nevermind. At least I'm not talking to myself anymore. It's the worst, you know, being alone in here. And I've been alone for a..."
Etienne's eyes adjusted to the gloom. It was not pitch black after all. Little by little, he perceived the vaulted ceiling, the stone walls, the sandy floor. After a while, he discerned the faint, flickering light of a torch, burning somewhere, throwing dancing shadows through the thick iron bars of his cell. He sighed. Like so many times before, this could turn out to be quite an unfortunate delay. How long had it been since they had thrown him in here? A few hours, at least...
"...bring me food when they remember I exist. I even had lobster, once. It was not even Christmas, but..."
Rolling over the hard bench that passed for a bed in most prisons around the world, the pain in his arms, ribs, and legs brought a smile on Etienne's face. What a brawl it had been! He never had a chance to truly draw his sword, but he was pretty sure he had knocked out two of his uninvited guests before they took him down. Unlike the dream, memories of the fight came back to Etienne's mind with ease. His smile grew wider.
The sound of the door slamming the decrepit wall still resonated in Etienne's ears. Guards had burst in the room screaming. He had roared, jumping out of bed, grabbing one of his sabers on pure instinct, slashing the air in front of him—blade still sheathed, eyes still shut.
"... girl was fire. Know what I mean? A real piece of art. Not that many crabs, either. I wonder what she's up to now. If only I hadn't..."
Etienne raised his right arm before his eyes, but he couldn't see a damn thing in this unlit crypt of a cell. He pressed his left hand just under the elbow and winced. A lump the size of a small orange marked the place he had suffered the first blow. The pain had almost made him drop his saber and definitely took him out of his inebriated slumber. He had punched the man standing in front of him with the handguard of his sword—knocking his teeth in with a satisfying crunch—only to face a whole squadron of them sharing his room.
A ridiculous situation. Humiliating even. Them, unmoving, fixed in menacing positions, smirks on their faces, daring him to make a move, to give them any opportunity. Him, still very drunk, struggling to keep sticky eyelids open, only wearing a long shirt, holding a sheathed blade.
But they had learned Etienne was not the kind of man to surrender without a fight.
However, he still had no idea what had caused his arrest. And being knocked unconscious was quite an impediment to getting answers. Sure, he had demolished some furniture last night, but he had not been alone in that tavern. And O'Ma had chaperoned everyone rather decently all night long. Alexandra would have been proud... So why was he here?
"...a Basset! Could you imagine? A fucking four-legged-sausage! Everyone was shocked and talking about..."
Etienne growled in the dark. The man's verbal diarrhea was making it impossible to think, each word eating away at his patience. However long his crew would take to get him out of here, it would be too fucking long.
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