Blackbeard: Look. Look! Staked out to die. Only half in the water. Not enough to live but just enough to make the dying slow. Think on it. Your people murdered; harvested for their tears. Syrena, won't you cry?

Syrena: All will die, even you; sooner here.

Blackbeard: Listen. Listen. Can you not hear your sisters screaming? Do you not hear them? We need but one tear. (Blackbeard pushes her away.) Vile creature! We cannot wait for the sun. Perhaps we should build a fire.

Philip: No.

Blackbeard: You will not contest me

Philip: You will not torture her

Blackbeard: I will tear every scale from her body one by one if I see fit. If that displeases you, go pray.

Philip: I was wrong, not every soul can be saved. Yours can not.

Blackbeard: behold gentlemen a man formerly of faith.

Philip: that vile creature as you call her is worth a hundred of you.

Blackbeard: You care for her?. . . You fancy her. Do not deny what is clear to my eyes. The question is, does she fancy you? By God she does. We are in luck. Bring forth a tear or witness the suffering of this poor soul.

Syrena looked on in horror as the quartermaster tied the hands of the struggling Philip above his head around a tall branch after removing Philips vest. Even as the quartermaster stepped back Philip continued to struggle against his bonds. Syrena could see the fear in his eyes as he turned his head to gaze at her.

"Don't give in," he croaked barely above a whisper.

"No," she gasped as she saw what his comment had earned him, a quick punch in the back. His knees sagged slightly.

Syrena's jaw clenched when she caught sight of the long whip the quartermaster was now holding. "Give me a tear girl!," Blackbeard insisted. Her only answer was to turn her head away. Blackbeard would have none of that. He quickly caught her jaw in his iron grip and forced her head in Philip's direction. "Then you shall watch him suffer," Blackbeard stated with a nod at the quartermaster.

Philip clenched his eyes shut in preparation for the first blow but when it came he wasn't nearly prepared enough. As the thin leather sliced through his skin he grunted and his legs sagged a little lower. When the second blow came he found that it was not any better than the first. Pain exploded through him as each new lash forged it's way into his previously smooth skin. By the twentieth blow his legs would no longer support his weight so he hung limply from the bonds securing his arms above him. He didn't have the strength to even hold his head up.

"Cry for me Syrena," Blackbeard whispered in her ear while still forcing her to look at Philip.

Philips spirit held strong as he heard her broken voice answer. "There is only one man here I would cry for and he has asked me not to." Blackbeard let out a growl of anger and frustration before making his next order to the quartermaster.

"Turn him."

"Father please. He has had enough. Your soul father," Angelica pleaded with Blackbeard.

"As the boy said, my soul is lost," he replied coldly as he again nodded to the quartermaster. The man placed a leather mask over Philip's face and stepped back to begin the flogging.

Philip knew this would be worse than the first time just because of the places that the whip would be hitting. As the first blow came he began to panic wondering if he would be able to withstand this pain without begging Syrena to help him. So, he began to do the only thing he thought would be helpful in this particular situation. At first it was just a whisper because that was all his strength could manage. "Our father. . . who art in he. . . heaven," he ground out before another lash struck his exposed chest. The next line was a bit more of a struggle, "hallowed be thy name," and it was barely audible. "Thy kingdom come. . . thy will be done. . . on Earth as it is in heaven."

"Do not stop!" Blackbeard yelled at the stunned quartermaster. Another lash.

"Give us this day our daily bread"

Lash.

"And forgive us our trespasses," with a sob, "as we forgive those who have trespassed against us." If not for the mask, Philip would have been looking directly into Blackbeard's eyes on that line.

Lash.

"And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil," gaining more volume by this point.

Lash.

"For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory. Forever," he recited, almost shouting by this time.

Lash

"Amen," was the last word he spoke before succumbing to unconsciousness.

"This is yer last chance. Give us a tear and we'll take him, tend to his wounds, make certain he will live. If ye choose not to then we'll leave ye both here to die."

Syrena could not do as Blackbeard had asked, Philip would not want all his suffering to be for nothing. Besides, he had asked her not to give in. "No," Syrena ground out while staring longingly at Philip.

"So be it," Blackbeard said with a note of finality that left no room for argument. "We'll clear out in the morning."