Coughing and groaning echoed around the deserted streets as the dying were left to perish and rot in the ocean misted air.
For days the silence was only perforated by the sounds of death. When the plague came for the old no one cared, the old were always dying of one sickness or another so it was nothing new. It was only when it turned its talons towards the children that the world caught its breath.
Now there were no newborn infant wails calling through the once bustling streets. Pregnant mothers had been desperately fleeing the land of Zauros for weeks, often getting no farther than a mile of two before the environment became too harsh.
Zauros is situated between the ocean and a range of malicious mountain, in short the plague was trapped within the town.
Mara sat on the scratchy sheet of the bed as she listened for the return of Ciaran with news. Days ago the women of Zauros started coming down with the fever, and everyone knew what that meant.
Since then Ciaran had been frantically searching for a way to himself. In his mind if the plague had moved onto women, it wouldn't long before it's attention waned and pointed at men.
Finally, his salvation came in the form of a letter delivered by hand. At first he was furious at the risk the man had brought into the apartment, until he realised what was written on the parchment.
A call to the ocean.
His experience as a sailor in his youth had led him to be noticed by a ship that had become stranded at the port following the death of one of the men. A ship that was destined to travel to Andonia, a land free of the sickness, a land full of freedom and riches.
When the key turned in the lock, Mara's ears pricked up and she stood from the bed to greet her lover.
"Mara?" Ciaran called from the front room making Mara roll her eyes, he never simply looked for her, always hollered.
"I'm in here." Mara's voice was free of the attitude and fear she was feeling, any sign of anger from a woman could be interpreted as disrespectful. Zauros was not the most progressive of places to exist and Mara knew that.
"How was your day? Did you meet the Captain?"
Mara was eager to find out if there was a way Ciaran could get her on the ship with him, she didn't care what that meant for her. Death was already knocking on her door because of her gender and Mara had no intention of dying from a sniffle.
"I met with him and the First Mate, man he's a mean bastard that one."
"Oh?" Mara hummed plainly as she padded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. "Did you hear anything about a place for me?"
"No there would be no legal place for you on that ship."
"Oh," Mara's gut dropped to the floor as she fetched the sprawled out Ciaran a glass of ale. "So you're leaving me here?"
He took the full pitcher from her without a word of thanks, Mara silently sat on the floor beside him. His hand rested on the top of her head absentmindedly as he chugged down the alcohol.
"No, I didn't say that I was leaving you here." Ciaran's voice is full of a sneer at her stupidity, if he could he would leave Mara here. To die of the sickness or become a whore, he really couldn't care less. All Ciaran knew was that he could use Mara in the new land.
Even though he would never tell Mara to her face, in his eyes she was already too arrogant around her own appearance, he had to admit she had a pleasing face and a tempting figure. In Andonia there would be men who would pay a pretty penny to own her and money was what Ciaran needed.
"So you're not going either?" Mara's voice was full of confusion and a hint of fear, she wanted to understand what Ciaran was saying. No, she wanted to be part of the decisions but Ciaran wouldn't let her leave the flat while the sickness was running rampant around the port and even if let her out it's not like she would be part of the conversation anyway.
"I said there was no place for you there... legally. I'm going to smuggle you on the ship just before we leave tomorrow morning."
Inside Mara's stomach was churning with uncertainty, she definitely didn't want to die in this poxy flat, but a stowaway? She was fairly sure that if she was discovered she'd meet a horrible end.
It seemed both options for her future were bleak, it was just that one was the choice of those who had given up and the other was one of hope.
Reluctantly, Mara knew which decision she would have to take and Ciaran would protect her anyway on the ship.
"What do you need me to do?" Mara muttered placidly as Ciaran's hand continued to stroke over her head and neck. It made Mara's skin crawl, she wasn't a dog but his patronising actions made her feel like a bitch.
"What I need you to do," Ciaran whispered as he pulled on her hair to tilt her face back to look at him, "is convince me of why I am going to take you."
Mara bit her lip, she knew what he meant. She had to give him some special attention to keep him in a good mood while he snuggled her on the ship.
Sighing, Mara sat up on her heels and shuffled around on her knees until she was kneeling between Ciaran's legs. With an internal groan, Mara's trembling fingers reached for the strings of his breeches. She had to do this, if she didn't he would leave her here and she knew that.
That night, Mara laid in bed beside the snoring Ciaran. There was an aching pain between her legs as she stared up at the ceiling, no matter what she said, Ciaran took her roughly and for his pleasure alone. At least now Mara knew she would be taken away from Zauros and towards a new life.
She rolled over onto her side so that her back was directed towards Ciaran's body. Right now she didn't want to feel him next to her and short of sleeping on the floor, this was the best she could do.
With Ciaran gone from her line of sight, Mara felt safe enough to close her eyes and let sleep press down on her body. The sooner morning comes, the sooner Zauros would be a faded memory.
"Mara, shift your ass." Groaning, Mara opened her eyes and sat up. Ciaran was already dressed and ready to leave, she was still in her nightgown.
Jumping hard, she stood up from the bed and hurried over to the clothes she left out last night.
Even though her eyes screamed for privacy, Ciaran smirked and leant against the doorway, he was going to watch her. He wanted to watch her, to remind her that he owns her and that is she wanted to get on that ship, she better put on a good show.
Mara pursed her lips tightly closed as she let the nightgown drop to the floor, her body exposed to his hungry eyes. As fast as she could, Mara dressed in the dress Ciaran bought for her a few days ago. It was tight in all the places the male gaze would wish for and Mara hated it.
Didn't Ciaran realise that he was making her stand out? He should have let Mara wear an outfit like Ciaran so that she could hide in the crowd. As ever, Ciaran enjoyed the control and the power that he could choose what she was to wear. It didn't help the outfit's case that her breasts were pushed over the corset bust of the gown leaving her pale flesh tempting to the eyes.
"Let's go!" Ciaran roared, "We have an hour before the other sailors arrive and if we get caught, it's on you. There is no way I'm staying here for another moment, you? Well that's your choice."
Sighing, Mara pulled the last threads of her gown tight and walked towards Ciaran. He grabbed her hand harshly and headed off quickly out of the open door.
A slight pang hit at Mara's chest, she would've liked to say that she hesitated because there was something special left in the flat, but the truth was, there was nothing in that flat for Mara.
She had no objects of the past, no memories of a family, it was just Mara, it was always just Mara.
As Mara's thoughts wandered, Ciaran dragged her down the near deserted port and headed nearer to the Golden Promise.
When the moment was right, Ciaran pulled Mara down the squalid alleyway he had scoped out the night before. Before Mara could even let out a noise of confusion, a word to Ciaran her head was slammed into the slimy wall.
Her unconscious form slumped against Ciaran's outstretched arms. The blood pores down from the cut on her forehead but Ciaran didn't care as he tossed her limp body into the sack he had been carrying along with him.
He threw the sack over his shoulder as Mara lay in darkness and continued to march towards the ship. Mara would be his ticket to wealth in the new world and he didn't need her complicating his plans.
In Ciaran's mind an unconscious Mara would always be preferable to a conscious one.
Luckily for Ciaran, and unluckily for Mara, there was no one yet on the ship. He snuck aboard and headed down towards the underbelly of the ship. Like the alley, Ciaran had done his research.
He knew that there was a storage portion of the ship, he also knew there was a section of said portion which had the hull of the ship on one side and barrels to the ceiling on the other. With Mara bound and gagged no one but Ciaran would have any reason to ever look there.
In his eyes it was the perfect place. He dropped Mara on the floor carelessly and coldly. Her head thuds on the wood but Ciaran couldn't care, it would just mean a few more hours with Mara out of the picture in his mind. He cut her from the sack with a pocket knife, he nicked at Mara's porcelain skin and the cut bled alongside the gash to her head.
Making quick work, for he was wary of the time and being disturbed, Ciaran pulled a length of rope from his bag and tied both her wrists to one of her ankles.
That way she couldn't move an inch, this style of binding was one Ciaran had witnessed when the Captain of his old ship dealt with dissenters when they were thrown overboard. The rope meant they couldn't swim and would surely drown, now Ciaran had no intention of killing off his prize but the binding would hold Mara in control.
Reaching into his back pocket, Ciaran moved on to the final stage of his violation of Mara. A gag, he tied it into Mara's mouth and yanked the material tight against her skin until the harsh fabric was biting into her skin.
Ciaran smiled at his work and he went to leave the corner and pull the barrels back in place when he paused. For his plan and future to work out, he couldn't take any chances.
Reaching for another length of rope, Ciaran wound it around Mara's middle and tightly bound her torso to a ring on the foot used to keep the barrels in place.
Mara was so tightly bound and gagged that even a miracle in Mara's favour wouldn't free her.
With the gash on her forehead bleeding down into her closed eyes, Ciaran hauled the barrels in front of the small opening that revealed his dirty secret.
Darkness was all that was left with Mara, both in her dreams, in her future and in her prison.