“I know you miss your friend,” I hiss, “but we have other things to worry about.”
But she stopped worrying about the important things like survival and keeping up her strength long ago.
The other women are soft to their core, very few having the grit to carry them through this ordeal. They were sure handsome knights would come to rescue us.
They never did.
So many have already given up, which is why I’ll be the last one standing. I wait for any opportunity to overcome my captors. I’m not stupid enough to think I can take on a boat full of men, but there’s a chance that I could get free and release the others. Then, we could either work together to overthrow the corsairs, or I could slip into an unseen corner while the uprising is quelled. Either way, the odds I’ll survive go up if I keep a sharp mind and remain aware of my surroundings.
The door opens, and a burly man carrying a bucket enters the room to give us each a ladle full of water. Thankfully, this happens often, though if I had to guess, I’d say we’re given one meal a day, if that.
Luckily, I’ve been able to hold my bowels until relief comes, but not all the women can, and the hull is constantly filled with the putrid scent of shit, vomit, and sweat. Though I’ve largely stopped noticing.
When the ladle gets to me, I try my best not to let a single drop go to waste, unlike the other girls who either greedily lap or can barely form their lips around the curve.
As he moves to Asha, I decide to be bold.
“Sir, could I please have more?” I say, trying to make myself sound as sweet as a lady.
The brute turns toward me, his brow scrunched.
Wham!
Metal fills my mouth. The taste of blood.
It hurts, pain so deep it resonates through my jaw. I don’t cry, though. My body knows better than to waste precious water.
As he finishes his rounds, the room shifts. Gently at first, like a mother cradling a child. Then sharply, jerking with angry snaps.
CRASH!
The ship lurches, whipping me around. The steel shackles bite into my wrists as I twist. I grab the chain, trying to exert a measure of control, but the room rocks, and I fall onto the wall.
The holding fills with the shrill of women’s screams, my own voice joining the choir.
Asha looks at me with frantic eyes. “We’re going to die.”
I don’t want to tell her that maybe it’s for the best, because if we survive, we’ll be sold and raped a thousand times, if not more.
Instead, I say, “We can’t give up. Not yet.”
SMASH!
A scream rips through my throat. I dangle to the floor, then slam back to the wall, only to be returned to the floor with vicious fury. The ladle man’s head is gushing blood as he’s tossed around the hull like a rag doll. For the first time since my capture, I’m thankful for my bindings.
CRASH!
A plank splinters, and my body drops to the floor. I’m still shackled, but my range of motion has greatly increased, which might be a bad thing given the circumstances. A barrel shoots through the cabin, smashing into a woman I can’t even name.
The floor keeps moving, shifting. I can’t stand. I can barely breathe. Everything is jumbled. I can barely think straight.
BOOM!
The room shakes. We’re taking in water. This can’t be good.
CRACK!
Blinding pain. Hurts so much. Water. So much water.