**English version of the WATTYS 2019 WINNER story**
1672, Caribbean Sea.
He lost everything for her. She risked everything for him.
But maybe love is not enough to bridge over so many deep differences between them, and the only way for them is goodb...
Marina set her jaw, breathing heavily, and cocked the musket. Castillano was almost out of range. And she let him get away. Because she knew that leaving him alive was a worse punishment than death for him.
The Phantom finally moved between the two Spanish ships. The New Lion's crew had made all her sails and the pilot was taking a long open turn to larboard, to sail away from the three ships and head west again. The veering took Castillano further and further away from that terrible scene and he sat down on the deck, holding his head with his hands.
A thick silence spread over the Holly Avenger's weather deck, while Segovia's body hung from the shrouds, still bleeding.
"What do you want to do, pearl?" asked Robin, who looked surprisingly unaffected by what had just transpired.
Marina lowered the musket, her eyes moving over the prisoners. The Spaniards didn't dare to look up at her.
"Would you come with me to Santo Domingo?"
"You intend to attack the city?"
"No. I want to send a message to anyone considering to arm more ships like this one."
Robin nodded, smiling. "Count me in."
Marina was about to say something more when Maxó stormed out of the aft hatch and ran toward the Phantom, calling Bones on top of his lungs. As soon as he saw the surgeon was coming, he turned to Marina.
"Morris is alive!"
She felt suddenly dizzy and rested a hand on Robin's arm for support. Tears blurred the faces around her. Alive! She forgot about everything to hurry to the hatch.
She found half his men in the hold. They were still releasing the prisoners from the logs they were chained to, and laying them down on boards to be carried up and to the Phantom.
Oliver had remained with Morris in the riving. They'd brought him down from the chain that kept him hanging against the mizzenmast, and he was lying on a board like the others. The young man was an inert bulk, and Oliver held his head a little up to help him breathe. The only sign that he was still alive was that the blood dripping from his nose bubbled when it slid over his parted lips.
Marina halted at the doorway, suffocating a cry.
Maxó came on her heels. "Come, pearl. Hold his head so we can carry him."
Somehow she managed to do it. She slid her hands under her friend's head, running her fingers through the fair hair gooey with blood. She heard the low gurgling coming out of his mouth, and it reminded her of Wan Claup's agony. She forced herself to keep it together and followed Maxó and Oliver to the ladder, her welling eyes on Morris' beautiful, now ravaged face.
On their quick passing across the weather deck, she saw Robin had things under control.
Once the pirates were removed from the hold, Robin ordered that the Spanish prisoners were chained there. Then he had the Holly Avenger secured to the Victory's stern to tow her, and assigned two dozen men from both crews to stay onboard, in order to repair the rudder, work the rigging and see to anything unexpected that might come up.
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Bones had set Pierre and his helps to boil gallons of fresh water, and the pirates with minor wounds to cut miles of bandages. His own assistants were busy readying balms and medicines. The surgeon rounded up those with a steady stomach and a firm hand, and instructed them to wash and start tending to the rescued prisoners.
Then he piled up two crates with elements from the sickbay and headed for the cabin. He found Morris lying on his side on the table, on a tablecloth that was already drenched in blood. He called two pirates to remove the rug and throw sand on the floor.
Marina had taken off what was left of Morris' ripped clothes and washed him with endless care, quiet tears rolling down her face. Her friend had been flogged on his chest and back. They'd torn off all the nails from his hands, beaten him, burned him, cut him. And that was only what she could tell with a quick look. The list of his injuries small and big, minor and serious, kept growing as she washed blood away, searching for his clear skin only to find more damage.
Morris was still unconscious and had trouble breathing, his head resting on a cushion that soon was covered in blood too.
Bones swallowed his curses. Morris was way worse than the others, and Marina's pain only made the situation more awful.
"Go change while I check on him, pearl," he said.
Marina tried to refuse, but the surgeon's peremptory look dissuaded her. However, she was back much sooner than Bones expected. She let him work, washing her friend's legs without a word.
"We have a problem, pearl," the surgeon said. "His left eye is burst. I need to take it out before it rots."
She nodded, grimacing. "Do you think he has any kind of chance to make it through?" she asked in a shaky murmur.
"One to a hundred. And even if he makes it, maybe he ends up crippled and misshapen for life."
"Can you do anything to help it?"
Bones shrugged. "I can try. But what you must ask yourself is if he would want to survive like that. I know how much you care about him, pearl. And that's why you must find the answer in your love for him. Are you willing to condemn him to a life of pain and prostration in order to keep yourself from losing him?"
Marina broke down in tears. She sat on the bench under the windows, hiding her face in her hands. "No!" she cried. "That would be too cruel!"
Bones kneeled before her, moved by her desperate tears, and rested his hands on her shoulders.
"Tell you what," he said when she was able to face him, still crying as to make a rock hurt. "I'll do my best to straighten his bones, patch him up and ease his pain. We'll give him a few days to see how he does, and then we'll make a decision." Marina nodded to everything he said. "But you cannot leave his side, pearl. He's still bleeding, and he won't be able to eat, maybe for a week or two. But he needs liquid, so his body can make the blood he's losing, and he doesn't weaken to the point that his heart stops. He'll need his bandages changed several times a day, his wounds watched for any sign of gangrene, or any bruise that may point to internal bleeding."
"I'll look after him. I won't sleep ever again if that's what it takes."
"And you'd be stunned in exhaustion and you couldn't do what he needs. You must be strong and lucid to be able to help him. Else, you would only make his agony worse and longer. Jean can handle things on deck, and Briand will be fine in a couple of days to assist him. Maxó and De Neill can take your place here whenever you need a break to eat, rest or get some fresh air." Marina kept nodding. Bones forced a tight smile. "Now go get me Fabrice. I need his help to take care of Morris' eye while he's still out."
