Chapter 10:
That night, Thomas tossed and turned on the straw bed upon which he slept. He was suddenly jolted awake, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily.
"Oy," said Seamus, who lay near Thomas on a straw bed of his own, "Had a bad dream there, boyo?"
"Yeah," replied Thomas.
Thomas lay back on his straw bed and looked up at the ceiling of his cell.
"She's out there somewhere," he said, "She must be worried sick about me...Or she might be in danger."
"Sounds like this woman means a lot to you," said Seamus.
"She helped me on my journey. I owe her my life."
"Aye, listen Thomas: You can't worry about her all your life. She'll be fine."
"Yeah, I suppose."
"Now get some sleep. As soon as the sun comes up, it's back to work for us."
Thomas lay back down on his straw bed and attempted to get some sleep, but found himself unable.
"Seamus?" he said.
"Aye?" replied Seamus.
"How often does Cervantes collect slaves?"
"Huh?"
"You said I was the first guy they brought aboard in three years...What made them decide to pick me up today?"
"Nay, I said you were the first person I've spoken to in three years. They've picked up plenty of others before you. But they never last..."
"What happened to them?"
"A few of 'em threw themselves overboard. Not sure if they were tryin' to escape, or if were lookin' to end it all. Either way, they're gone now."
"What about you? What's been keeping you going? Do you have a family back home or..."
"Christ almighty," Seamus sat up, "Enough with the questions already, yeah? Get some shut-eye, will ya?"
Thomas quietly rolled over in his straw bed.
"Sorry," he whispered.
Thomas could barely sleep that night. It was the longest night of his life.
For the next month-and-a-half, Thomas continued to work aboard the Adrian, performing odd jobs for Cervantes and his crew. Still wearing his filthy potato sack, Thomas' hair had grown slightly longer and his facial hair was thick and scruffy. For all of this time, Cervantes scoured the Mediterranean in search of some unknown treasure, stopping at various ports only once in a while.
One morning, Thomas found himself and Seamus outside repairing some damaged floorboards. Cervantes approached them.
"I don't like the way you're hammering those nails," he said, "Start over!"
"Come on!" said Thomas, "This is the third time, already!"
"No one likes a whiner," said Cervantes, "Now, get cracking, or I'll feed ya to the sharks!"
"CAPTAIN!" yelled the ship watchman, "I SPOT A SHIP!"
"Hear that?" Cervantes said to the pirates, "Man the sails! Full speed ahead! You slaves, get below decks!"
"But we..." said Thomas.
"NOW!" Cervantes threatened the men at gunpoint.
Seamus and Thomas headed below decks. A random pirate quickly threw them into their cells and locked the doors before running back outside.
"What the Hell is going on?" asked Thomas.
"Remember that ship they attacked last time?" said Seamus, "Well, they're about to do it again!"
"Second time this month. What could they possibly be searching for?"
"Has to do with a sword. Not entirely sure, though."
As the cannons began firing, Thomas began to feel sick to his stomach.
"He's not after Soul Edge," began Thomas, "Is he?"
"Never heard of it," said Seamus, "Is it valuable?"
"More than that," he said, "That sword is cursed!"
"Cursed?" said Seams, "You be talkin' outta your ass, boyo!"
"You haven't seen what I've seen...I've witnessed, firsthand, the incredible lengths people are willing to go in order to obtain this weapon. It must be destroyed!"
"And how do you plan on doin' that?"
"I don't know yet. All I know is that a compass - One that points directly to Soul Edge's location - Is currently sitting somewhere in the Captain's Cabin. If Cervantes somehow figures out how to read it...Dammit, I need to get it back, somehow!"
Just then, the cannons ceased firing abruptly. A pirate ran down and unlocked the cell door, allowing the duo to return above decks. Back above, Thomas and Seamus resumed their work on the floorboards. Cervantes stood nearby, yelling at some pirates.
"But sir," said a big, fat pirate with a bushy beard, "How was I supposed to know that they were going to fire back?"
"Maybe I should give your job up to someone else!" shouted Cervantes, "And you guys? Could you be any slower at aiming those cannons? If even one - And I mean one - cannonball had hit my ship I would have personally blown your heads off! Understand?""
The pirates all nodded.
"Now," said Cervantes, "Go search the wreckage."
Thomas, who had been watching Cervantes' tirade, returned to work on the floor once the pirates left. Cervantes approached Thomas.
"Are you done with the floor yet?" he demanded.
"Not yet, sir," said Seamus.
"Well, when you are, head below. I need you to do some repair work."
Cervantes began to walk away.
"What happened to all those people in that boat?" asked Thomas.
"What do you care?" snapped Cervantes, as he turned to look at Thomas again.
"Are they all dead?"
"No one survived. As we pirates say, they've hit the bottom of Davy Jones' Locker."
"Couldn't you have taken them in as slaves? Like you did with me?"
"That would have been more mouths to feed...Even though, admittedly, you only eat our scraps. The point is, I don't need the extra help at the moment. Now, get cracking on those floorboards, will ya?"
"Why are you even doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"All of it. What kind of an existence is this to choose for yourself?"
Cervantes bent down until he was at about eye level with Thomas.
"You want to know why I became a pirate?" asked Cervantes, "My father, Philip De León, was a privateer who looted ships for the King of Spain..."
"I'm sorry," interrupted Thomas, "A privateer?"
"Yes," replied Cervantes, "Privately-funded but in service to a king or government. Anyways, one day, he was attacked by an English warship. He survived, but with his flagship totally destroyed. My father was abandoned by the King and was left to die on his own somewhere, while my mother raised me on her own and supported me. I forsake the allegiance my father swore to the Spanish Empire and have never looked back. Why should people follow the laws of their government if the government does not care about their lives? What have they ever done for us, hm?"
"But killing innocent people is..." began Thomas.
"Get back to work," said Cervantes coldly.
As Cervantes walked away, Thomas picked up several nails off of the floor and stared at them for a second.
"I can use these," whispered Thomas, "Next time we hit land, I can jimmy the lock on our cell door and then we make a break for..."
"'We'?" asked Seamus, "There's no 'we' here, Thomas! No bloody way am I participating in your madness!"
"So, what? You'd rather be a slave?"
"I'd rather be alive!"
"This is not a life! Don't you have friends? A family? Some kind of goal or ambition? I know I did. That's what sent me on this quest in the first place!"
Seamus sighed.
"Me family's all gone," he said, "Before I was captured by pirates, I was just a vagrant who sailed the seas, selling whatever scrap or salvage I could find. I did have a small crew, but they don't give a hoot about me now, I can guarantee that!"
"Well," said Thomas, "Here's a goal for you; you're gonna help me find, then destroy, Soul Edge. The fate of the world rests upon our hands now. And if we don't make it, we will die trying, because anything is better than being a mere slave!"
Seamus stared at the floor, deep in thought.
"Aye," he said finally, "Let's do this, then! Let's destroy this cursed weapon!"