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...
Alexandra paced the forecastle deck, careless of the concerned, questioning, or even mocking looks from the crewmen. She clenched her fists so often and so tight that blood would soon ooze from her palms. The copper taste of it already filled her mouth from biting her lip once too often. Her stomach was a sack of knots.
Her mind was racing, giving birth to hopes and nightmares. She could see Etienne hanging, kicking the air, choking, his face turning blue, piss and shit dripping from his feet. She could see Stalker gone berserk and shooting his way through the prison, O'Ma and Tiago at his back, killing every guard in their way. She could see them getting Etienne out of his jail. She could see them lying on a dusty floor, covered in blood. She could see herself setting sail, leaving Puerto Seguro and the bloodbath behind, never to return.
No, she could never do that. Not when the slightest bit of hope remained. O'Ma was still out there, and Flow had surely found him by now. They would all be back soon and, together, they would find a solution. Even if it was to burn this wretched town to the ground.
In the meantime, she needed to do something. Anything to keep her mind busy. She went down the forecastle and grabbed the arm of the first man she came across. Her victim freed himself from her grip and turned around. His face closed and angry, Robert looked ready to take down the nuisance daring to interrupt his pipe smoking. When his eyes caught Alexandra's, she took pride in the fact that he didn't flinch. The sailor was a tough son of a bitch, but his loyalty was beyond doubt, to Etienne and herself.
"Call the roll and make a list of the men still missing!" she ordered.
Robert sighed. He took his time tapping his pipe on the rail, scraping it clean and pocketing it. "Yes ma'am!" he finally said before walking away.
Quite the cocky bastard, but the order would be obeyed.
Alexandra was about to go on with a thorough inspection of the ship, to make sure everything was ready for departure and that every man was at his post, when the lookout whistle shrilled. She rushed through the main deck to the gangway, hopes so high they threatened to burst her chest. On the dock stood a single man, but his uniform wasn't Etienne's.
"Good day, my Lady," said the old soldier, twisting his whiskers between his fingers. "I'd like to have a word with your captain. If he's on board, of course."
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