Chapter Five : Stowaway
Saviya heard distant voices bringing her out of her sleep. One angry voice broke loudly from the rest and when two large meaty hands wrapped around her upper arms, she ripped free from her sleep with a loud gasp. A large, ugly face leered at her through the layers of grime on his skin and the man jerked her to her feet where she stumbled, extremely panicked. Behind him, she saw a couple more men staring at her, letting their eyes roam her body. Feeling trapped, her eyes were bright with the passion that one would see in a caught wild animal .
The man holding her gave her a hard shake. "Stowaway, dirty little wench! The Capn'll have ye walk for sure!"
He was twice her size but she knew bring smaller made her faster; she started struggling violently against him. "Riffly gorgio! May Mamioro khul on te! Me amriya te, te sheka!(Dirty gorgio! May Mamioro-spirit who brings sickness- shit on you! I curse you, you horseshit!)" He didn't let her go but stared at her looking completely confused by the strange language coming from this even stranger looking woman. Saviya screamed at the top at her lungs, swiftly kicked him between the legs and ducked underneath his arms when he bent over in pain. Two of the other men started advancing towards her so she veered to the left but quickly found herself caught in a corner formed by the railing and the wall of the upper deck of the helm. Breathing ragged, she turned with alarmed eyes, her body poised to attack as the men approached her. There were even more now, but malice was only on a few of the faces- a fact, of course, she overlooked in her panic.
"What should we do with her, Manden?" a blond man with twitching hands asked, not taking his eyes off Saviya. Manden, the large man, pushed to the front of the group and glowered in front of Saviya. He backhanded her across the face, his ring cutting her cheekbone and the force making her head whip to the side. Looking back at him with blazing eyes, she said lowly, "A'ko isi pomoshinav tumen, sheka (Maybe I can help you)." She leapt forward and grabbed the sword from his sash and, with a twist of her wrist, cut him across the cheek even worse than he'd done to her. Then shot back to her corner and held the sword in front of her as her defense against the men.
"What the bloody 'ell is goin' on here?" a deep voice demanded, sounding irritated. The men parted and Jack stood there, trying to figure out what was going on. When he saw Saviya pressed into the corner, holding a sword in front of her, his eyes hardened. He strode towards her with a sigh, "Causin' trouble already, lass?"
Saviya shook her head at him and he realized she was trembling slightly. "No. 'e grabbed me." She nodded her head at someone behind Jack and, when she did so, Jack caught sight of the cut bleeding on her cheek. He drew his sword quickly and turned around, standing in front of her. "WHO," he said, his eyes dangerous as he examined his crewmembers, "did this?"
"Captain, we thought she was a stowaway," Manden stuttered.
Jack turned to him. "A stowaway," he repeated.
Manden nodded furtively, "Aye, Captain. She didn't say she weren't. So we thought-"
"Who hit her?" Jack's voice was quiet, which made it all the scarier in it's rumble.
Manden swallowed, suddenly regretting what he'd done. "But, Captain, she was fighting back and-"
"And what, man!" Jack yelled at him. He took a step forward, the tip of his sword suddenly at Manden's neck in threat. "On MY ship, you decide ta take a matter like this onto yer own hands? You would BEAT a woman half yer size!? What the devil possessed ye?!" He studied Manden a second longer before nodding with a jerk to two other crewmembers. "Charlie, Tom, take Manden 'ere to the brig. Tom, the blond who'd asked Manden about her earlier, and Charlie nodded and hauled the shamed Manden away.
Jack eyes the rest of the men, "And for the rest of you, the lass is a guest on this ship. If any of ye even lay a hand on her," he threatened with steel in his voice, "I will slit yer neck and send ye to Davy Jone's Locker. Savvy?" Then men all said quickly that they did, in fact, understand, and then all stepped three feet back from Saviya. "Now, on deck, ye scabrous dogs! Ye think this ship can sail itself?" Jack shouted and the men quickly scattered.
At last, Jack turned around to Saviya who still held the sword in front of her protectively. He moved towards her, and sighed when she looked at him warily; he'd been the one to bring her aboard and now this had happened. Manden would be punished. Jack held a hand out to her, palm up. "Ye can give that to me, luv." Saviya stared at him, seeming to finally recognize him and dropped the sword reluctantly into his hand. With his other hand, Jack placed two fingers under her chin and raised it to examine her face. He frowned at the cut and his eyes darkened slightly before he said, "Come wit me, luv. We gotta clean that up." Saviya nodded and followed him back to his quarters. Looking up to the back of his head where his dark dreadlocks swung back and forth, she started to feel angry.
"So is this going to be a daily thing, Captain?" she asked pointedly as the door shut behind them and she looked around at his room. A wooden desk with maps on top and a chair (both nailed down), a mahogany bed frame with comfortable looking blankets on it, a bookcase against one wall, and rum bottles –empty and full- everywhere. That explained the smell, at least. And maybe the Captain's behavior too. Jack turned from the closet with his hands full of rags, bandages and two bottles of rum.
"I need ye ta sit on the bed, luv."
"My name is Saviya, NOT 'luv'," she snapped, sitting crosslegged in the middle of the bed, each foot bottom lying flat against the opposite inner thigh.
"Alrigh, luv," Jack said absently, sitting on the edge of the bed in front of her and setting the supplies next to him. He turned to her to see her glaring at him. "Wha?"
Saviya sighed; it was no use. "Nothing."
"This might hurt a bit," he warned before lifting the rum soaked rag to her cheek. Saviya winced and hissed as the cloth touched her cheek. She straightened her right leg and shot if over his lap, ready to leap from the bed and away from the rag. Jack immediately brought his other hand down and wrapped it over her upper thigh, holding her down.
"Ssh, it's fine. It'll only hurt fer a lil bit," he said, not taking his eyes off her cheek as he dabbed the cloth. It wasn't bleeding anymore and didn't seem to be that deep, thankfully. She relaxed a little at his calming voice. She became increasingly aware of his hand on her leg, even though her skirt was between them. She remembered his offer last night to spend the night in his room and began to think of what might have occurred had she.
"So, what can ye do?" he asked, putting the bandage on. The first thing she noticed was that he'd taken his hand off her leg to do so and secondly what he'd said. With the sexual thoughts that had just been running rampant through her mind, the implications of his question did not seem innocent at all. She gave a safe answer.
"What?"
"On a ship. What can ye do? Nobody gets a free ride 'ere."
"Well, I know that," she snapped at him. "My father taught me all dat he could about boats-"
"Ships," he corrected her, picking up the rags and bandages and putting them in the closet.
"-ships when I was little. I can cook, clean, work on sails, fix the sails, be a lookout...want me to continue?"
"No, no," he muttered, chugging one of the bottles of rum. A very DIFFICULT hellcat, it seemed. He handed the other bottle towards her, not expecting her to actually take it. Saviya, however, grabbed it, took a large chug and sat back looking relaxed when she was done. Jack stared.
"Nais tuke (Thank you)," she said softly, looking out to the porthole and seeming lost in thought. They were both silent for a few moments before Jack pulled on his tricorn hat and spoke. "Ye can do lookout til mid afternoon, then I need you to go help Jacob, the cook, with dinner. Savvy?"
"Savvy," she answered, distracted. She tore her gaze from the porthole a few seconds later and nodded at Jack as she walked slowly out of the room. Jack looked after her, confused. What was that about? He sighed; confusing women, the lot of them. He grabbed another bottle of rum and walked out to the helm.
Saviya heard distant voices bringing her out of her sleep. One angry voice broke loudly from the rest and when two large meaty hands wrapped around her upper arms, she ripped free from her sleep with a loud gasp. A large, ugly face leered at her through the layers of grime on his skin and the man jerked her to her feet where she stumbled, extremely panicked. Behind him, she saw a couple more men staring at her, letting their eyes roam her body. Feeling trapped, her eyes were bright with the passion that one would see in a caught wild animal .
The man holding her gave her a hard shake. "Stowaway, dirty little wench! The Capn'll have ye walk for sure!"
He was twice her size but she knew bring smaller made her faster; she started struggling violently against him. "Riffly gorgio! May Mamioro khul on te! Me amriya te, te sheka!(Dirty gorgio! May Mamioro-spirit who brings sickness- shit on you! I curse you, you horseshit!)" He didn't let her go but stared at her looking completely confused by the strange language coming from this even stranger looking woman. Saviya screamed at the top at her lungs, swiftly kicked him between the legs and ducked underneath his arms when he bent over in pain. Two of the other men started advancing towards her so she veered to the left but quickly found herself caught in a corner formed by the railing and the wall of the upper deck of the helm. Breathing ragged, she turned with alarmed eyes, her body poised to attack as the men approached her. There were even more now, but malice was only on a few of the faces- a fact, of course, she overlooked in her panic.
"What should we do with her, Manden?" a blond man with twitching hands asked, not taking his eyes off Saviya. Manden, the large man, pushed to the front of the group and glowered in front of Saviya. He backhanded her across the face, his ring cutting her cheekbone and the force making her head whip to the side. Looking back at him with blazing eyes, she said lowly, "A'ko isi pomoshinav tumen, sheka (Maybe I can help you)." She leapt forward and grabbed the sword from his sash and, with a twist of her wrist, cut him across the cheek even worse than he'd done to her. Then shot back to her corner and held the sword in front of her as her defense against the men.
"What the bloody 'ell is goin' on here?" a deep voice demanded, sounding irritated. The men parted and Jack stood there, trying to figure out what was going on. When he saw Saviya pressed into the corner, holding a sword in front of her, his eyes hardened. He strode towards her with a sigh, "Causin' trouble already, lass?"
Saviya shook her head at him and he realized she was trembling slightly. "No. 'e grabbed me." She nodded her head at someone behind Jack and, when she did so, Jack caught sight of the cut bleeding on her cheek. He drew his sword quickly and turned around, standing in front of her. "WHO," he said, his eyes dangerous as he examined his crewmembers, "did this?"
"Captain, we thought she was a stowaway," Manden stuttered.
Jack turned to him. "A stowaway," he repeated.
Manden nodded furtively, "Aye, Captain. She didn't say she weren't. So we thought-"
"Who hit her?" Jack's voice was quiet, which made it all the scarier in it's rumble.
Manden swallowed, suddenly regretting what he'd done. "But, Captain, she was fighting back and-"
"And what, man!" Jack yelled at him. He took a step forward, the tip of his sword suddenly at Manden's neck in threat. "On MY ship, you decide ta take a matter like this onto yer own hands? You would BEAT a woman half yer size!? What the devil possessed ye?!" He studied Manden a second longer before nodding with a jerk to two other crewmembers. "Charlie, Tom, take Manden 'ere to the brig. Tom, the blond who'd asked Manden about her earlier, and Charlie nodded and hauled the shamed Manden away.
Jack eyes the rest of the men, "And for the rest of you, the lass is a guest on this ship. If any of ye even lay a hand on her," he threatened with steel in his voice, "I will slit yer neck and send ye to Davy Jone's Locker. Savvy?" Then men all said quickly that they did, in fact, understand, and then all stepped three feet back from Saviya. "Now, on deck, ye scabrous dogs! Ye think this ship can sail itself?" Jack shouted and the men quickly scattered.
At last, Jack turned around to Saviya who still held the sword in front of her protectively. He moved towards her, and sighed when she looked at him warily; he'd been the one to bring her aboard and now this had happened. Manden would be punished. Jack held a hand out to her, palm up. "Ye can give that to me, luv." Saviya stared at him, seeming to finally recognize him and dropped the sword reluctantly into his hand. With his other hand, Jack placed two fingers under her chin and raised it to examine her face. He frowned at the cut and his eyes darkened slightly before he said, "Come wit me, luv. We gotta clean that up." Saviya nodded and followed him back to his quarters. Looking up to the back of his head where his dark dreadlocks swung back and forth, she started to feel angry.
"So is this going to be a daily thing, Captain?" she asked pointedly as the door shut behind them and she looked around at his room. A wooden desk with maps on top and a chair (both nailed down), a mahogany bed frame with comfortable looking blankets on it, a bookcase against one wall, and rum bottles –empty and full- everywhere. That explained the smell, at least. And maybe the Captain's behavior too. Jack turned from the closet with his hands full of rags, bandages and two bottles of rum.
"I need ye ta sit on the bed, luv."
"My name is Saviya, NOT 'luv'," she snapped, sitting crosslegged in the middle of the bed, each foot bottom lying flat against the opposite inner thigh.
"Alrigh, luv," Jack said absently, sitting on the edge of the bed in front of her and setting the supplies next to him. He turned to her to see her glaring at him. "Wha?"
Saviya sighed; it was no use. "Nothing."
"This might hurt a bit," he warned before lifting the rum soaked rag to her cheek. Saviya winced and hissed as the cloth touched her cheek. She straightened her right leg and shot if over his lap, ready to leap from the bed and away from the rag. Jack immediately brought his other hand down and wrapped it over her upper thigh, holding her down.
"Ssh, it's fine. It'll only hurt fer a lil bit," he said, not taking his eyes off her cheek as he dabbed the cloth. It wasn't bleeding anymore and didn't seem to be that deep, thankfully. She relaxed a little at his calming voice. She became increasingly aware of his hand on her leg, even though her skirt was between them. She remembered his offer last night to spend the night in his room and began to think of what might have occurred had she.
"So, what can ye do?" he asked, putting the bandage on. The first thing she noticed was that he'd taken his hand off her leg to do so and secondly what he'd said. With the sexual thoughts that had just been running rampant through her mind, the implications of his question did not seem innocent at all. She gave a safe answer.
"What?"
"On a ship. What can ye do? Nobody gets a free ride 'ere."
"Well, I know that," she snapped at him. "My father taught me all dat he could about boats-"
"Ships," he corrected her, picking up the rags and bandages and putting them in the closet.
"-ships when I was little. I can cook, clean, work on sails, fix the sails, be a lookout...want me to continue?"
"No, no," he muttered, chugging one of the bottles of rum. A very DIFFICULT hellcat, it seemed. He handed the other bottle towards her, not expecting her to actually take it. Saviya, however, grabbed it, took a large chug and sat back looking relaxed when she was done. Jack stared.
"Nais tuke (Thank you)," she said softly, looking out to the porthole and seeming lost in thought. They were both silent for a few moments before Jack pulled on his tricorn hat and spoke. "Ye can do lookout til mid afternoon, then I need you to go help Jacob, the cook, with dinner. Savvy?"
"Savvy," she answered, distracted. She tore her gaze from the porthole a few seconds later and nodded at Jack as she walked slowly out of the room. Jack looked after her, confused. What was that about? He sighed; confusing women, the lot of them. He grabbed another bottle of rum and walked out to the helm.