Haddrick’s eyes darted from Buck to Bastion and finally to Ulla, still draped limply over the scarred man's shoulder.He didn’t appear to be cut from the same cloth as the others, his skin paler and his build leaner, like he was unaccustomed to spending time outside.Old bruises colored his exposed skin a sickly yellow, and he wiggled his fingers anxiously, like he’d touched something sticky.
Buck shoved the bottle back into Haddrick’s hands and pointed at his lip.“Fix this.”
Haddrick cast a fearful glance at Bastion.Buck slapped him.
“If I have to tell you again…” he whispered, his hand shifting to Bastion’s sword.A fury to match the vengeance burning in Bastion’s heart boiled up.That blade may only be a standard-issue longsword, but the pommel still bore the flower bud of the royal family.It didn’t belong in the hands of a man who would relish spilling blood.
Haddrick stiffened, his face turning white.He lifted his hands to Buck’s ruined lip, now reminiscent of a newly ruptured hot spring.A soft green glow emanated from his fingertips.Bastion’s eyes widened.
Human healers were less common than Yvri, the gift more innate to dragon-kin.Both could kill someone as easily as mend them.Buck had to know that, so what leverage did he have over Haddrick to treat him so cruelly?
“Boss,” Ulla’s captor said, casting a nervous glance at his crewmates.“What should I do with ‘er?
Buck glared, saying nothing as Haddrick worked.The ship rocked beneath them, and everyone bent at the knees to keep their balance.
When the healer finished, Buck snatched the bottle again, tipped the bottom skyward, and drained it.Then he walked over to the man and smashed it against his temple.
Bastion started forwards, terrified he would drop Ulla.The crew prevented him, one seizing his cloak and another hooking a hand around his bicep.The man stumbled sideways, somehow staying upright as the ship lurched.
“What do you think you should do with her?”Buck asked, his voice a low hiss.
The man swayed, swallowing hard as he tried to form words.
“Um, throw ‘er…” he started.“Throw ‘er in the brig… and ‘im, too?”
Buck nodded and thumped the man on the back,hard.
“Haddrick!”he yelled.
“Y-yes, sir!”the healer squawked.
“See to the men’s injuries.The Yvri bitch didn’t come quietly, and I don’t need infection messing up our plans.”
Haddrick stared at Ulla as Buck disappeared into the captain’s quarters, slamming the door.A good portion of the crew joined him in staring.Then they began to rib each other, sharing lecherous grins.Bastion’s stomach soured.
The pirate carrying Ulla staggered towards the stairs.Bastion was dragged after her, trading the thin afternoon light for cloying darkness that stank of sweat, pitch, and animal excrement.They marched him past a pair of sad-looking goats that bleated pathetically.Bastion looked out over empty hammocks and piles of ammunition arranged neatly beside waiting cannons.
Two lanterns burned in the dark, like demonic eyes, attached to heavy support beams.Rusted shackles dangled beside them, clanking woefully as the ship rocked.Between them loomed a bare space, the floor and beams dark with old blood.
A killing floor.
The earlier feeling of being swallowed whole returned, and Bastion’s stomach bucked.Old hurt festered in the planks with the deep, fatal pain of a belly wound.
The swift, skittering shadows of rodents evaporated into any available crevice as the scarred man skirted the stained floor.Inside one of the tiny cells, he knelt slowly.He put Ulla down more gently than he’d picked her up.The other two shoved Bastion into an adjacent cell and locked the door, turning the key with a creaking echo that promised a slow forgetting.
Then the pirates left Bastion and Ulla to the curiosity of the rats.
__________
The lanterns burned out and in the darkness, Bastion couldn’t tell how much time passed.
Enough for him to check his prison for weaknesses and attempt to sever his bonds against the bars.It took far longer than he wanted, and his wrists were bloody by the end, but eventually, the rope frayed and snapped.
Men came and went, keeping well away from the cells–or perhaps the blood-stained space before them.Most took what they needed from the ship’s stores, piled in a barricade between the brig and the rest of the lower deck.They returned to sea and sky quickly, while others collapsed into frayed hammocks, taking sleep where they could get it.
Bastion recognized a few from their initial capture.After Buck had taken the Acari pendant, the others had stripped their fallen crewmates and left their bodies to the scavengers.Now, Bastion watched them stitch pieces of the dead men’s clothing into their own–a superstition that promised Death would overlook them a little longer.
Others loitered around a narrow box, at least as long as two men were tall, whispering excitedly.Eventually, they, too, returned above deck.Bastion was left with only the sound of the sea and busy footfalls overhead.
