I hang, clinging to my chains. A spectacle for all the pirates. They stole me. I am a prize to them, clearly strung for all to see.
But I’m also stronger than they’re used to seeing.
Draxen gets close enough to see my face clearly. “You killed one of my finest
men yesterday. I should let Ulgin have you. But it won’t do to have the pirate king’s daughter unidentifiable once we swap you for the ransom. This will have
to do.”
I ignore him, focus only on the three pirates descending to the ground. I wait
for them to mold back into the crowd to ensure they can’t beat me to the top.
I needn’t have worried. Everyone’s too stunned to do anything once I start climbing.
“Oi, she can’t do that,” one pirate exclaims.
I don’t bother to look down at them; I focus on the movements of my arms.
One hand over the other, relax, pull. Other hand, relax, pull. The chain length doesn’t allow me to gain much rope with each pull, but it is enough. I can still
climb.
And I do, all the way to the top. I hitch a leg over the rounded wooden beam
that rests below the sail. Then I sit, straddling the wood. I’m not even breathing hard. If only I could think of a brilliant plan for getting the chains off. But I’ve got nothing to work with from up here.
“Bring her down,” Draxen calls, face red—not that I can see it clearly, but it’s
fun to imagine it all red and puffy, fuming with anger.
More and more men start to climb up the mast. But I’ve no intention of letting
any pirate touch me. So I start to climb back down.
I stop when I’m halfway down the rope. The pirates hesitate at the top, no one
seems to want to climb down and join me.
Riden steps up to Draxen, puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Alosa!”
Riden shouts. “Come all the way down, or I’ll order the rope cut.”
I sigh and roll my eyes. Riden, Riden. It’s sad, really, that they all have to try so hard to make me behave.
I do as he says, though. I’ve no intention of gaining breaks or bruises.
I just really don’t want to clean the deck.
Hanging at the end of the rope, I wait. It’s the only trick I have left. It’s moments such as these when I’m truly grateful for my father’s blasted endurance
tests. They made me strong. They made me aware of how much I can handle.
And no one has ever been able to outlast me at holding up their own body weight.
Minutes pass and still I hang. Everyone watches, waiting for me to sag from
exhaustion. Curious to see how long I’ll be at this.
Riden coughs. “Captain, perhaps the men should get back to work while the
princess suffers her punishment.”
“Aye,” Draxen says.
“You heard the captain. Back to your positions. Get on with it. Who knows?
She might still be conscious when you’re done.”
The men laugh as they scatter to different areas of the ship. The muscles in my arms and stomach start to sting.
At least I don’t have so much of an audience now. It’s mostly Riden and Draxen. Draxen looks on with satisfaction. And Riden—Riden looks … I cannot
tell. He just looks.
The sun moves in the sky. The wind changes direction. My body begins to tremble. It’s hard to breathe.
And then I can’t take it anymore. I drop myself. The iron pinches at my skin,
digs into my bones. It hurts like hell, but I’ll not utter a word of complaint. Even if I agreed to clean, the captain would only keep me up here now. He wants me
to suffer for what happened to Sheck. I can see it in his eyes. There will be no
relief for quite some time.
Eventually Riden and the captain move on. They have duties to perform as well. I think they’re consulting in the captain’s quarters now. It’s difficult to tell.
Turning my head involves too much effort.
“Miss Alosa,” a voice whispers.
“Yes, Enwen? Can I help you with something?”
He smiles, knowing very well I can’t do anything for him in my present
condition. “It would take a hurricane to dampen your spirits, lass. I have something for you.”
“What is it?”
“The siren bracelet. I bought it from Belor after we woke up from the conk to
the head you gave us.”
“I’m really sorry about that.”
“You already apologized, miss. Remember? No harm in trying to fight for your freedom. ’Tis a noble cause. I can’t fault you. Would’ve done the same thing. Now, here.”