The room they brought her to was dank and airless but at least provided shelter from the glare of the the way she had quickly been separated from the other brawlers and stripped of her coat and all other belongings - including her purse and weapons. The room was small, and she'd noticed on the way in that almost all of the cells were empty. The only other prisoners she spied seemed to be drunkards. This gave her hope- she suspected that this was not the main prison, merely a temporary holding area for minor criminals.
The cell door was slammed and then locked behind her. The jailer grumbled in Spanish - something about crazy women and left.
Helene immediately noticed she was not alone. She it appeared she had a cell mate. The woman sat on a bench in the corner with lank blonde hair and a yellow, toothy grin. Her wrinkled and dusty dress was cut low enough to give more than an ample view of her bosom and rouge was liberally and haphazardly applied to her lips and cheeks. Helene felt it safe to guess the lady's profession.
" Hullo you,", she slurred, " heard you broke three mens noses and another's arm". She finished off cackling. Helene pointed animatedly at her own face,
" As you may notice, I did not walk away from the exchange unscathed"
" Aw, those scuffs'll be healed proper in no time" She said in an almost motherly tone. " Nice to see a bird throwing some punches for a change"
" You look like you wouldn't be averse to throwing some punches yourself" Helene said devilishly and the woman laughed.
"Aye, that'll be right"
" Where do you hail from, Madam" Helene asked her with what she intended as a warm smile but knew with a split lip it could look a murderous grimace.
" Dorset street, London. I traded that filth for the filth of paradise" she said, gesturing to the area around her and Helene laughed.
" Oui, I know that place well" said Helene," Though I do not want to return there"
" Aye, there're many devils in that hell" she said, a grin belying her dark words.
Silence settled between them comfortably for a few minutes. Helene was about to ask her what misdeed had landed her in their cell but just then a Spanish officer approached them.
He stood with his shoulders back and chest puffed, uniform immaculate. The man would have been impressive were it not for his sunburned nose and the evident sweat on his brow- the heat of Havana was clearly far less forgiving in those uniforms.
He gave the cell and officious once-over and then stared at Helene.
" You, the frenchwomen" he said and pointed to her," You will be released in the morning." He spoke English well but his accent was heavy
" Your belongings and your purse. They will go toward damages caused to the city".
Helen leapt from her seat,
" What! There was near a goddamn fortune in gold there. You took all of it?"
" Si. This, I think, it is your first offense. And then also you have no outstanding warrants. On the next time we will not be so lenient".
Helene grabbed the bars and rattled them, furious at herself for getting caught. Of course they had taken her money! Helene grit her teeth in annoyance.
" Curse you! This is bloody robbery!". The officer paused before muttering in Spanish under his breath.
" Your gold it has gone to King Phillip's coffers- you will never see it again"
Helene let loose a a train of French curses before finishing off neatly with one she knew in Spanish. The officers eyes. narrowed.
" Silence. Or then I will give you something better to do with your mouth, yes?" he said coldly.
The other woman in the cell leapt to her feet, to Helene's surprise.
" You come in here and I'll box you man"
" Do not be afraid." sneered Helene, "Every dego I've met is as limp as wet rope." Then she spat in his spaniards Spittle slid down his cheek as his face turned red.
" Puta barata!" he said making for the cell door,
" I think I will teach you a lesson"
He hurried to unlock it and step inside. He should have drawn his sword first. , thought Helene. Swearing, he lunged at Helene who side-stepped and kicked his feet out from under him. The officer met the dusty floor with and oof. Helene delivered a sharp kick to his stomach and then his head.
The man lay still.
" Va au diable" she hissed in his ear quietly before removing his pistol and ammunition. She took his set of keys as well.
Her cellmate stood in the corner, eyes round as saucers.
" Well?" Helene said to her, " Are you coming or not?"
The woman gave her a toothy grin and followed her out of the cell which they locked behind them.
They crept through the corridors carefully, peeking around corners. They were barely any guards about, luckily. She knew that if they had taken her to the fort things would have been different.
It wasn't long before they came upon what looked like a common area for the guards. The passage they were in opened into a large chamber . In the centre was a large wooden table with an assortment of items from food to weapons. A quick survey of the table's contents told her that her belongings were elsewhere. At the far end of the room was a dead fireplace and two spanish soldiers, sitting opposite one another and talking quietly.
Helene noticed a large chest not far from them. She immediately regretted not taking the officers sword earlier. The two guardsman were not exactly facing the chest but they had only to turn their head slightly for it to be in their view.
She could fight off one man if she was unarmed but to beat two she would have to take them by surprise. Mentally she calculated which would be riskier - to sneak up on the men and take her chances, unarmed - or to sneak to the chest and hopefully retrieve her weapons before they noticed her.
She remembered then that she was not alone.
" You any good with one of these?" She asked her companion handing her the pistol after making sure it was loaded.
" Aye, I'm a fair shot" the woman said.
" Stay here and look out. If one of those guards sees me sneaking by I want you to put him down if you can. These things take a lifetime to reload so you only got one shot"
" And the other one?"
" I'll deal with him" Helene said.
She left her cellmate crouched behind some crates near the entrance of the chamber and began to creep forward. The guards were talking in Spanish so quietly and so fast she couldn't understand a word.
She crept closer to the chest, hoping that it did indeed contain what she suspected - her weapons and wristblades. She had felt naked since they'd been taken from her.
If the soldiers had not been so deep in conversation they may have noticed her in the corner of their vision but she made it to the chest unnoticed.
Helene tried to lift the lid- it was locked. She panicked for a moment before remembering the keys she'd taken off the officer earlier. She took them out and they jingled slightly before she clamped them tightly in her fist, muffling the sound. Turning her head slightly she could see the guards had not moved.
Being more careful with the keys this time, she began trying them on the lock. It was difficult to be patient, any second the guards could look in her direction. her heart began fluttering increasingly the longer it took to open the lock.
Finally after trying four different keys it clicked open and Helene was able to lift the lid of the chest. She removed her blades first and quickly put them on. She reached for her pistols and then stopped. In the chest were another pair of unfamiliar wristblades- large, a man's size-
A shout sounded behind her and she turned her head to see the guards making for her, weapons drawn. Helene heard the crack of a shot and the second guard doubled over, blood blooming from his gut.
The other soldier turned to him quickly, confused and Helene saw her chance. She leapt up and buried a blade in his neck. Hot blood burst forth, soaking her sleeve in red. She turned to the other man and did the same, cutting short his agony.
Her cellmate scurried over to her with a bewildered expression, clutching the still smoking pistol tightly in both her hands. Helene realised they had not yet exchanged names.
" I'm so sorry", she said " They was just talking there one moment then they just started shouting and came after you"
" You did fine" Helene reassured her, and turned back to the chest to recover the rest of her effects. She strapped on her holsters and settled her pistols and swords. Both woman breathed deeply for a moment, letting their heart beats slow.
" I think introductions are long past due. My name is Helene Moreaux" She told the woman with a smile.
" Lizzie Higgins" She said with a devious grin and ironic curtsy.
" Well, Lizzie. I don't know about you but I find the hospitality of this establishment rather lacking"
" I am much in agreement Miss Moreaux, What say we move on?"
" Aye," Helene said, " But first I have a quick inquiry to make"
They found Edward Kenway asleep and snoring gently in a small cell near the exit of the prison. Helene had counted it as a possibility that the confiscated wristblades belonged to him. Not many right-minded assassins would get themselves into a situation like this. She smiled wryly as she realized she was counting herself among Kenway's ilk. Hardly right-minded, indeed.
" Oh, its this blighter" said Lizzie, as she looked disappointedly through the bars.
" You know him?" Asked Helene with one brow delicately arched .
" I heard of him is all-" Lizzie said defensively before continuing with a sly glare " Why do you know him?" she asked saucily and Helene scoffed in amusement.
" A colleague of sorts," She said, absently.
" Wasn't he some scurvy ol' pirate once?" Lizzie asked distractedly, " I gone and heard he's in here at least once a week nowadays. Near legless every night and causing trouble. Happens to some of them you know... all that rum and murdering and cannon fire'll drive a man daffy eventually"
Helene stared at Kenway through the gloom. He slept deeply. The generous amount of stubble on his face was verging on a beard and a thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead and cheeks. His clothing was filthy and the sour smell of rum and sweat wafted to her.
An idea began to take shape in Helene's mind and a smile settled on her face. A small bit of vengeance was in order after Tulum.
Helene began to unlock the cell door
" And now what're yous up to? " asked Lizzie, " You gonna drag this bleeding sod out with us?"
" Hardly" Helene said as she looked down at Kenway's sleeping form. He was properly passed out- he wouldn't wake if you fired a cannon next to his ear.
She took out the other set of wristblades that she'd taken from the chest. Carefully, she untangled his arms from their positions and clicked the pieces into the respective slots carefully.
Kenway mumbled absently and turned over on the bench. Helene sighed and exited the cell, locking it behind her. It didn't precisely sit with her well, leaving him there. Giving Kenway some of his weapons back at least soothed her conscience some. The wristblades would not be evident to the guards if they stayed sheathed. If Kenway found he wanted to vacate the tiny prison he could - after all he was much better equipped then she had been earlier.
All that was left was for her and Lizzie to find their way out safely.
The night in Havana was settling noisily. Insects chirped and the song of sailors was heard throughout the town. Lizzie and Helene had left the guardhouse safely behind them and were now making for the harbour.
" What now?" Lizzie asked with a sigh. Helene had been surprised when the woman had continued to stick close to her even after they had reached safety.
" I'm off to sea" Helene told her, " Want to come?"
" Oi, you! Me on a boat? Come on love and give me some of what you's been guzzling"
" Afraid of a bit of water, Lizzie?" asked Helene laughing.
" Aye, I's damn lubber, alright. You wouldn't find me on the deck of ship if my life were depending on it- that voyage to these here islands was enough to set me off it forever" Lizzie finished off scowling.
" Then I've a favour to ask you before you go" Helene said and suddenly the other woman looked vaguely suspicious. " You're advice, really" Helene continued, " I need men, trustworthy mind you, that can sail and...they must have flexible morals"
Lizzie hooted a laugh.
" Hardly a favour at all" she said, " Men with flexible morals are my specialty - so aye, I can surely help you there".
And so they shook hands and parted ways for the evening.