AN:
Finally a new Chapter. I just realized this as I was editing it here in FF. Since I adjusted and combined Chapters 5 & 6, It dawned on me that This is an entirely new Chapter already. It's tagged on my files as Chapter 15.
Hope you enjoy it all the same! Please read and review. Always remember to be kind. :)
Please use this link to view image references since FF doesn't allow mid chapter images. Please also be reminded that all the photos in the pinterest link are NOT mine. All the credits goes to their original owners because they made really amazing photos that I can use for inspiration.
The pinterest board contains images of how I imagine Branwen's looks, Her Clothes etc. I will be continuously updating this together with the fic.
/leiiiriuuki/god-save-our-queen-story-board/
Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou and any of its characters. This story is made solely because I can't get enough of Conrart and Yuuri.
IN VOLTAIRE CASTLE
It's been about six years since he last stepped inside his own kitchen. Gwendal's feet stop at the door. He really doesn't want to have anything further to do with this.
"Günter! What are you doing in my kitchen?!"
...'And here he comes' is the thought conveyed quite clearly by Lord von Kleist's eyes. He is standing in front of a cauldron filled with boiling oil with a headband around his forehead.
"Fortune-telling again?"
"Yes. If I can sense the dangers Her Majesty faces, if I can be of any help to her at all..."
"This is useless."
There wouldn't be any way of helping them even if he could foresee the dangers, since no sorcery would be able to reach them in the middle of the ocean. But faced with the fresh blue-black bruises under Günter's eyes, Gwendal loses the energy to confront him with those facts. His gaze falls to the oil.
"...What are you planning to do?"
"Drop a baby mouse into this boiling cauldron of oil."
The intelligent, beautiful and dignified tutor raises a hapless little white mouse by the tip of its tail. His ferocious smile exposes the true Mazoku within: a demonic beauty that captivates and beguiles all. All of which is inconsequential to Gwendal. His voice is a low sardonic rumble that would surely prostrate all who heard it. "Well, well. I suppose a rodent will suffice for a king such as that." The corners of his lips curve derisively.
"Of course! What a foolish mistake! How could a mouse predict the journey of our noble exalted queen? Oh Gwendal, what should I do? Well, for now—" Günter raises his other arm swiftly. "—a kitten should do."
The spotted cat shivers, dangling from a grip illustrated in pet books as an example of 'how not to hold your cat.' The cool-headed, handsome cynic (ladies, discuss) unexpectedly snaps.
"Stop! Stop right now! How dare you mistreat a kitten like this? Look, it's so frightened that it's mewing 'meh meh!' You poor thing, it's all right, I would never let him do something so horrible to you—"
"...Gwen...you..."
"Günter...you bastard..." The tutor pales at the voice that seems to rumble up from the ground. "If you ever mistreat a kitten like that again, I will have your head."
And do what with it?
ON THE SHIP
Yuuri's POV
This is no time for verb conjugations—where is the life vest?! I peer under the seat. Apparently there was just one impact.
"What could have happened back there? Is there a storm? Or did we hit something?"
"I don't know the situation yet." The little lord brat said while analyzing the situation
"We must've hit an iceberg in the warm current, then?" I queried
There are screams and the footsteps of a great many people from the hall and diner. Sounds like they're already panicking.
"Stop standing about, Wolfram! Get your coat and run outside. We have to know the situation! Dammit, I can't believe Conrad's not here at a time like this..."
"Yuuri!"
The door slams open with enough force to tear it from the jamb, and Conrad rushes into the room. The frozen look on his face doesn't seem Conrad-like at all. His white sleeve is stained with spilled wine.
"Thank goodness you got back here safely. Though Josak did say you were fine. I was quite worried about you"
"Josak? Is Josak the man who looks like he could win a golden glove as a center? Look, Conrad, sorry, but I don't really have time to ask if everything went well with Mister Biceps right now. Is this ship sinking? Is it half-sunk already?!"
His expression says he has no idea what I'm talking about. Guess it's not an iceberg. Are we stranded, then? Or is it something else?
"I don't think we're sinking—it's worse. Wolfram!"
"What?"
"Do you have your sword?"
"Yes!"
His cheeks, pale with seasickness and displeasure, visibly gain color as he flushes with excitement. He must be looking forward to the chance for some fighting. Does he enjoy the prospect of crossing swords that much?
"Good. Then the two of you, hide here."
"What are you doing?!"
Conrad pushes us into the closet. The cane that he's carried all this way is in his hand. He draws it in a single smooth motion, and steel flashes. I didn't know it was a sword cane. He shifts the blade behind him and goes to one knee, leaning in close to say in a low voice, "Please listen quietly. This ship is under attack by sea robbers."
"Pirates?!"
"Yes. A great many of them have already broken in."
"Then you should hurry up and hide too, Conrad!" I grabbed his arm, willing him to get inside the closet too.
"What are you talking about?" I gulp at Lord Weller's smile. "This is why I'm here, Yuuri."
The exchange takes only a second, and his hand is on the door.
"I'll hold them from the deck for as long as I can. We want to give them the impression that everyone has fled from this room, so please keep as quiet as you can. Don't anger them. If anything should happen to you, Günter and our people will weep."
"What about you?" I peered at him.
"Me?"
"You'd weep for me too, right?" I asked with a smile
His eyes soften, just a little.
"In that case Yuuri, I will be meeting you again in another place."
I don't have a chance to ask him what he means. Wolfram moves to leave, his slender sword in his hand.
"I'll fight too! Do you have no faith in my skill?!"
"I do. That is why, Wolfram, I have entrusted Her Majesty to you."
The stubborn pretty boy finds himself at a loss for words. He can't refute that trust. I put my arms around the third son's shoulders.
"Well then, leave your brother to me! Make sure you come back."
"Please look after him...Yuuri."
In the moment Wolfram looks away, he wraps an arm around my neck and draws me close to whisper briefly, "Please forgive me, if I do not return."
"Wha..."
He closes the double doors and walks away. His brisk footsteps are quickly swallowed into the pandemonium of the distant deck. He has gone to battle, those disquieting words laden with meaning left behind. All is chaos for a little while afterwards. There are the metallic clangs of sword clashing against sword, the sounds of vases and plates shattering, of rushing footsteps and screams and cries that make me want to cover my ears.
Wolfram and I breathe quietly, listening intently for any hint of what is happening outside. Quiet falls by degrees, and before long the screams and bellows subside. I recall a Western film I saw on TV half a year ago, right before I took my exams. When the children who were in hiding venture outside, no one remains: neither the enemy nor their father, after so much tumult and though Wolfram could not have guessed at my feelings, his hand falls on mine. We huddle together in the cramped space of the too-small-to-be-called-a-walk-in closet, shivering.
No, I'm the only one who's shivering. Wolfram is a soldier, after all. Even if he's not used to playing such a dangerous game of hide-and-seek, it can't be his first time.
"...Are you okay, Yuuri?"
"O-of course I am!" I grip the hand touching mine, closing my eyes, and hang my head.
"Sorry."
"Don't worry about it." He's not laughing at me, is he?
It's just...it's not just that I'm frightened, not even that I'm scared stiff—it's this silence, this tension, that is unbearably painful...I wonder what happened. What's happening? My roommate seems to read my mind. He whispers, "Like Conrart said, don't do anything rash if we're found. They're not going to kill you if you don't resist, 'cause you've got such good looks and you're a lady."
"Then you'd better not do anything either. You're several times cuter than me. No one would kill someone as pretty as you."
"No way. I am a warrior of the Mazoku; if I don't fight, I can't be allowed to live."
"That's stupid."
"Shush!" I saw him putting his index finger on his lips.
There's the click of the doorknob turning, followed by the slam of the door being forced open. Someone steps into the room.
"All the valuables 'ave already been taken, eh? 'Ave they escaped?"
"No chance. We've already confirmed that none of the deluxe suite passengers were on deck. He knows all of the passengers on this ship. It's another matter if they've gone overboard, but none of the rich men and woman on this pleasure cruise have that kind of courage. I particularly remember him saying that the lady was gorgeous. I can't wait to see her."
There are two of speaks in a tank-like rumble that sounds like he has a caterpillar wandering around the back of his throat, and the other has a fighter jet voice so shrill that it hurts the ears.
"These are supposed t'be rich people? Looks like they don't got much on 'em." Tank.
"Still, the cost of staying in this deluxe suite for a night could get you a year's passage in the third-class cabin." Fighter Jet.
"Daaamn, I wanna be in their shoes." Tank.
"Don't be an idiot. Look in the bedroom too." Fighter Jet...I'm starting to feel like I'm playing army chess here.
The creak of the floorboards in front of the bed indicates that they're right next to us.
"Oh yeah, what happened to those brave fellas?"
He's talking about Conrad! The tips of my toes hit the door when I unconsciously lean forward.
"Hey! Is something in there?!"
Oh no! We're seconds away from the fate of ninjas in a historical drama here: the ones who get stabbed by a spear while they're hiding above the ceiling or beneath the floor eavesdropping on a secret conversation. Think Branwen.
"'Twas but a mouse, Lord Governor." Oh yeah, there's an idea.
I ask for Wolfram's opinion in a barely-audible whisper. "Hey Wolf, maybe we can pretend we're little animals."
Neg...what the heck?! That CD of animal sounds I was always listening to when I was a kid didn't have anything as hard as that. I mean, Earth doesn't have anything like that. This is no time to be wondering what kind of an animal it is. We're too big to be mice, and it'd be weird if we were keeping a cow in the closet. There's just one thing left in my repertoire, so let's try cat.
"Me-meow."
Tank and Fighter Jet instantly react.
"It's a zomosagori dragon!"
"Don't zomosagori dragons eat people even when they're tiny?! We can't take it on alone, get the others!"
Dragon?! Dragon, as in a relative of the dinosaur?! Wolfram covers his face with his palms in defeat.
"This is bad, they're getting the wrong impression! When did I make a dragon sound?! I was going for a cute cat..."
"Cats are supposed to go 'meh meh'!"
"That's sheep!"
The situation takes a turn for the worse when we hear the other one rush off to get the other people just as instructed. Why do I have to be in a dress at this point in time? How will I be able to move? Wait.
"Wolfram, Do you have your sword with you?" I needed to borrow the blade to tear off my long dress and turn it into a short dress. That would be more comfortable to move and maneuver in. He handed the blade to me and I did what I could to the dress.
"Listen Wolfram, they are going to be here any minute now. We have to work together okay?"
"What are you planning to do? You're nothing but a wimp" he said.
"Hey! Don't call me a wimp. It'd appreciate it if you called me Branwen instead, okay?"
Footsteps are clear and loud. I think they have about eight more people outside the closet.
"We're opening it, you all ready?!"
Silver glitters next to me.
"Let's do this Wolfram" We exchanged glances as we knew what to do.
The doors are opened to their fullest. My eyes are dazzled by the light rushing in, Wolfram cuts off one person's arm and grazes another's stomach. I kicked another in the gut and stole the cutlass that he had. We got our backs on each other as we surveyed the enemy before us. As if in queue, We started fighting with the remaining three pirates. To my dismay however, I heard more footsteps coming our way and someone was able to grab my hair at a moment's distraction. I winced from pain and this caused Wolfram to worry.
"Branwen!" he shouted. His voice filled with worry.
"You can fight huh woman! Do you want to play a hero like the courageous man upstairs?" The guy who caught my hair eyed me angrily.
"Wolfram behind you!" He was hit on his legs and was brought to his knees. He looked hurt but he was still ready to fight. I still got the sword on my hand and with one swift motion, I sliced my hair cutting it loose from the grasp of the man holding it and went straight to where Wolfram was half kneeling. I assisted him to get up and he looked at me with estranged eyes. "Your hair Branwen."
"It's not time to comment on that. Are you okay?" I asked without taking my eyes off the enemy. He gave me a slight hum and nodded. I eyed each pirate. There are too many of them now. Wolfram was about to make a move but I already decided to submit. I held his arm that was ready to charge.
"What are you doing? We can still take them on" he hissed.
"No, there are too many. I can't endanger you." He entrusted you to me.
"Demo Branwen!" he argued still.
"Stop it already. Onegai? It's an order Wolfram"
He freezes and without looking at me allows the sword to drop. The empty metallic clank of the sword echoes in the room.
"Heh! I thought you guys were though, it appears I was wrong. What's with the unnecessary resistance when you're going to surrender anyway?! Take them to the deck."
Torches burn everywhere, as if we were holding the fire festival a little early. It's as bright as noon, so bright that it illuminates the pirates' ship parked alongside ours. The deck, where most of the passengers and crew have been gathered, smells like that show where they hack up tuna. From the looks of it, there's been bloodshed on both sides. I darted my eyes on the floor while walking. The pirate chief appears to be in great humor up on his platform of stacked wooden boxes.
"Y'all are lookin' mighty fine tonight," he addresses the passengers through a megaphone, holding it with his pinky sticking out. It's a mike performance.
Our ten-men entourage herds us into a group of POWs. Wolfram is dressed in his blue uniform-equivalent clothes and I'm in a disheveled state: my long dress from earlier is now short and my hair. Although I haven't seen it in a mirror yet, I know it's a mess and crooked. They dragged Wolfram and me and directed us to the chief. I can't help but wonder what happened to Conrart. They could have killed him already. I feel like I might become a madman. I struggle in the grip of the pirate holding me, trying to break free, but he seizes both of my arms along with the inside of my collar and drags me up to the chief. One of our entourage spoke to the captain and said:
"Captain! Look at this woman! She knows how to fight but submitted herself. She's a real beauty too! Huh looks like we can have some fun tonight"
"The deluxe passenger ehh?"
"That's right chief!"
I look up at the wooden box, and my mouth drops open. I have a hard time closing it. Part of it is curiosity—this is my first pirate after all, but mostly it's because he's so mind-bendingly different from the way I imagined pirates since I was a little kid. They're not wearing shirts with vertical stripes. They're also nothing like the pirates from Peter Pan or the Caribbean. Doesn't look like they can stretch their arms and feet like rubber, either. He's rather short, but has broad shoulders and a thickly-muscled chest. His silver-blond beard, almost white, starts all the way from his sideburns. His ruddy face has an old scar across one cheek—in short, he's a magnificent example of a man of the sea. But he's wearing...yes, that is what it is from any angle—a sailor uniform. Why a sailor uniform?! Well, I guess pirates are sailors too, but why a gathered skirt?! A white-and-light-blue sailor uniform of the kind that schoolgirls wear in Japan?! The shock drains all the strength from my knees, and I plop to the ground on my legs. In his left hand, the one not holding the megaphone, glints a wide steel blade. Sailor uniform and...cutlass.
"My sympathies, young lady, but don't be afraid. We are pirates with a pedigree, we are, and we don't go 'round killin' our guests."
That drawl—a Southern accent? I kept my eyes off of him again in disgust.
"'Course, we make an exception for those who put up a fight. They can scream and drop dead, for all we care. All the heroes on board quieted right down in front of the ladies, har har."
So in short, they're holding the women and children hostage? DROP DEAD?
"I hear you're on your honeymoon, an' want to have one with me instead? I will treat you well" The freak said.
"Heh, who would go with someone like you?" I retorted. SLAP! He slapped using the back of his hand; so hard that it can be heard throughout the deck. It stings. I had to hold my cheek.
"Yuu_ Branwen!" Wolfram shouted. And I eyed him and shook my head to him silently telling him not to do anything. We don't know where Conrart is yet and it's best not to anger them too much while I think of a plan. Wait. someone staring somewhere. That was the only time I looked around.
I spot Conrad and Hiscruyff in the group of sailors and male passengers—which includes Mister Biceps. He must have fought as courageously as any man. All three are sitting side by side tied, and don't seem to have sustained any major injuries.
I see the look of worry in his eyes. Sorry Conrad, you tried so hard to hide us, I apologize silently to him. It wasn't your brother's fault, it was mine one hundred percent. I smiled. Thank you that you're alive. I've calmed down. I took a deep breath and looked at the sky and looked back at the chief again. Still with his pinky sticking out, the chief brings the megaphone to his mouth.
"Now, will the ladies please move next to me! You'll be workin' on my ship till you meet your new lords and masters in your high-falutin' new homes!"
New what? Is that pirate-speak for husband? Does he have a side business running a marriage-consulting office or something? But this is the age of equal-opportunity employment, and men and women both have the right to be employed. The women are driven across the ramp, weeping in anguish.
"Yar. Passenger from the deluxe suite, you look like there's somethin' crawlin' up your throat."
"...You said you were pirates with a pedigree...!"
From ten meters away Conrad shook his head as if he knew how close I was to an eruption. Softly, softly?
Oh, don't do anything? I choke the words back down.
"...So, pirates, huh?...I guess you must have buffet breakfasts...?"
"We don't eat breakfast."
Damn it. Conrad's right, I have to hold myself back here. Being the only complainer won't get me anywhere. If I make a wrong move, I'll be chucked overboard, and they'll have to bear the consequences. And I have to think about the other passengers, too. I can't indulge in my petty sense of justice when it could lead to people getting hurt in a big way. I can't...I can't, but…
The chief puts a hand on a keg and says as his skirt hem flutters in the wind, "Now, next! Which of the children'll sell for a good price? Bring 'em forward!"
"You're going to sell them?!" A young girl wails like a broken alarm as she's dragged away from her mother.
"Granmama—!"
I reflexively look around for a grandmother. None around.
"Damgranmamaaaa!"
The other children are bawling too, in a continuous chorus of screams. The Humans' wails rise up into the moonless, murky sky with the light of their torches. I've seen a scene like this before—yes, in that late-night movie before the exam. I sat there tucked into the heated table with my reference books spread out in front of me, crying at the TV. I cried and cried at the irrationality of people killing people and couldn't stop until it woke up my dad. Wiping my eyes and dripping nose with a wet ball of pocket tissue, he asked me, so smoothly that he deserves an Academy Award himself: "What would you do?"
His tone was as light as if he were asking 'Who do you like better, Mac or Sosa?'
What would you do? Can you do what is needed? I can.
"...Wait, Bran...!"
The expression on Conrad's face says: I knew it would turn out like this. The pressure of the magma just barely bottled beneath the crater has increased in proportion to the force holding it down. Can I finally release the eruption that I spent so much effort suppressing a few minutes ago?! The Turkey Marsch has already passed its midpoint, and the piano barrage is right at hand.
"Listen, dammit—!" I forcefully broke free from the man that was holding me. The chief casts a brief sidelong look down at me, but immediately shifts his attention back to his underlings. I'm just a prisoner of war, after all, and he has no intention of taking me seriously.
"Wait a minute, why are you taking the women and children over to that ship?! What the hell are you planning to do? You claim to be pirates with a pedigree, but you're just simple robbers! You're going to take all the money and goods and run away, aren't you?! Selling women and children makes you no better than beasts!"
"We're not robbers, we're pirates. And don't worry after tonight's arrangements are finished, I'll have my way with you and you'll join them"
"That's not the point!"
My jaw quivers from the blood rushing up into my cheeks and ears. The shaking spreads the length of my arms into the tips of my fingers and beats a Morse Code down the sides of my thighs. The blood heats my eyes, and the backs of my eyeballs hurt from the pressure. I'll probably get myself killed, cut down by that wide cutlass. Or maybe it won't be a clean strike and I'll be left to writhe in agony from my wounds. Still. I darted my way towards the chief and held him at gunpoint. He must have been shocked by my sudden movements and was not able to move for a short period of time. I then took that moment's opportunity to take his cutlass and point it to him instead.
"Listen to me! International laws forbid slave trading—that's something even kids in elementary school know! Even if you've never heard about it before, it's common sense—you should come to the same conclusion if you just think about it a little! Yeah, sure, I know you're the chief, and you might be more distinguished than the rest of these guys, but that's just your job status. What we're talking about is human existence! All people are equal, which means you're the same as them! So even if you occupy this ship, you have no right to sell off these women! 'Heaven makes no man better than another'—that's a good saying, you should remember it! Fukuzawa Yukichi is a great man! So great that his portrait is on the 10,000-yen note in Japan!"
The chief waves his hand and calls up four of his underlings.
"Hey Chief, I don't know much about the area, but I'm guessing all the pirates around here do stuff like this, huh? Do you really think that it's all right for you to do it just because everybody else does it too? Well, you're wrong! Come on, be a manly pirate who steals money and goods without harming anyone—that's how you make yourself a righteous man of the sea. You'll become the first chivalrous thief of the sea, praised by friend and foe alike! If you're still the your right mind, I suggest that you order your men to stop what they are doing this instant. Or I can't guarantee your life." I said still pointing the cutlass to his throat.
Meanwhile, more than half of the women and children have already been transferred to the other boat, and towards the tip of the wide deck is a familiar head of beige-colored hair. The princess with the ramune-marble eyes who danced with me is at the very end of the children's line.
She nimbly and forcefully flings off the hand on her shoulder as if avoiding the touch of something dirty. Blood mounts on the pirate's face, and he thrusts away the small body.
"Beatrice!" Hiscruyff yells. He tried to stand but was subdued by another pirate.
She's still wearing the airy sakura-colored dress she had on while dancing the waltz with me. The ornaments twined into her hair sparkle as she loses her balance and tumbles backwards, right over the low wooden railing.
"Watch ou...!" I kicked the chief in the gut and rushed towards Beatrice. There's nothing beneath but the ocean. The ocean opened its black mouth in anticipation. Several people dash toward her, but I'm the first to arrive. I grasp her arm. Her weight drags me down, and I lean back hard against it. Conrad and Wolfram come rushing over. And probably Hiscruyff, too.
"Hold on...Beatrice...take my hand!"
Beatrice, still dangling by one arm, looks up at me with those eyes that don't quite transform into star sapphires. The eyes of a girl who has a tiny bit of admiration for me.
"It's all right."
"...What's...all right?"
"If I can't see my father and mother anymore, then it's all right if I fall."
"...Don't..." Don't say things like that.
A girl who's going to dance with lots of wonderful men and fall in passionate love and grasp happiness with both hands should not say something like that, not with such clear eyes. She should not be allowed to say something like that.
Several strong arms pull us up, and Beatrice's father holds her tight. I tumble awkwardly onto my behind and lie face-up on the planks staring at the clouds flowing across the night sky. A long thick needle stabs into my head, as if it's become a lightning rod conducting a bolt of lightning down throughout my entire body in a charged rush, numbing me and heating me and flooding me with ecstasy.
My heart pumps blood at twice the speed, and the exact location of its beating becomes pinpoint-clear. My hippocampus sounds a warning, but adrenaline bursts like champagne popping its stopper. In the depths of my semicircular canals, I catch a single verse of a beloved song.
Summon…
Summon...who?
And I know nothing more.
Conrart's POV
I was speaking with Josak when the ship experienced turbulence. It caused Josak to let go of the wine glass he was holding and its contents got onto my sleeves. I paced my eyes around to check for Her Majesty's wearabouts but she's nowhere to be seen. Panic rose to my chest. I was about to run around to look for her
"She's probably back in the cabin. I saw her run back earlier" Josak said to pacify me. But regardless of what he said, I still pushed my way to the people crowding near the railing in hopes of finding her. That was where I saw anchor rodes attached to the railing attaching our ship to another ship. Sea robbers. Of all the time the Sea robbers may appear. It's now when Branwen is here. I immediately found my way back to the cabin in search of her.
I slammed the cabin door open and walked inside.
"Thank goodness you got back here safely. Though Josak did say you were fine. I was quite worried about you" I huffed in relief.
"Josak? Is Josak the man who looks like he could win a golden glove as a center? Look, Conrad, sorry, but I don't really have time to ask if everything went well with Mister Biceps right now. Is this ship sinking? Is it half-sunk already?!"
She bombarded me with loads of questions. What's she talking about at the moment? I regained my composure and asked Wolfram if he had his sword with him. Then pushed them to the closet to hide.
"Please listen quietly. This ship is under attack by sea robbers."
"Pirates?" Both of them asked in unison.
"Yes. A great many of them have already broken in."
"Then you should hurry up and hide too, Conrad!" I was shocked when Branwen also asked me to hide with them. Of course as a soldier that won't do right?. I smiled at her and told her that the reason I was here was for these circumstances. To fight and protect her. I held onto the cane that I was carrying and drew it in a swift motion revealing my blade.
"I'll hold them from the deck for as long as I can. We want to give them the impression that everyone has fled from this room, so please keep as quiet as you can. Don't anger them. If anything should happen to you, Günter and our people will weep."
"What about you?" She peered at me.
"Me?"
"You'd weep for me too, right?" She asked.
"In that case Yuuri, I will be meeting you again in another place." I would have died fighting to protect you and in the event that I fail my duty and you were to fall before me, I would kill myself to be with you.
"I'll fight too! Do you have no faith in my skill?!" I heard Wolfram's grumble and told him that I do believe in him and would like to entrust Her Majesty to him in my absence. The moment Wolfram looked away, I wrapped a hand around Branwen's neck and drew her to a whisper. "Please forgive me, if I do not return."
"Wha..." was the only word she was able to say as I closed the cabinet and headed to the deck.
As soon as I got to the deck I found people running and the robbers wielding their cutlass to anyone who goes against them. "Jozak!" I spotted him from the corner of my eyes. "What's the situation?" I asked as I neared him, slicing through the pirates along the way.
"They got us out numbered Taichou." He said as we continued our sweep. Then we turned to each other and continued fighting. After a moment the captain spoke to everyone. He has already gathered a number of hostages and said: "My my! We got quite a handful of fighters on the ship! If you want to have each of these people dead, continue fighting with my crew!" using his cutlass to signal that he will kill one of the hostages if we were to continue with this farce. Tsk! I could only signal Josak to lay down his weapon. There should be no need for extreme bloodshed. I'm also sure that if Branwen was here, she would not permit it.
We laid down our weapons and let the pirates tie us. They dragged us towards where the male captives were and sat us down. We could only observe at moments like these.
Minutes passed and we heard more footsteps coming from the cabins. My eyes widened with shock as I saw both Branwen and Wolfram emerge with a few pirate crew holding cutlasses toward their backs. I examined their countenance: Her hair was cut and her ball gown is not short ripped. All she did was look down and I saw visible cuts on her arms too. What were they thinking? How could this happen?
I turned to Josak knowingly as he find something to untie these ropes. "Hurry Josak She's in danger." "Yes, Taichou, hold on a minute."
All I could do now was watch as Branwen bickered with the chief. Yare Yare, She's as hot tempered as always. SLAP! I saw how the chief slapped Branwen. My blood boiled. I turned to Josak again, questioning him what's taking him so long. Only to find that he was also staring at what's transpiring between Branween and the chief. I held my breath in anger and nudged him using my foot telling him to hurry and that this is no time for observation. I stared at Branwen again. This time she noticed us. I eyed her telling her not to be reckless.
A few moments more of their bickering and snap. I knew this would happen. I was dumbfounded when she went straight to the chief and pointed the cutlass to his throat. How did she do that in a swift motion? My eyes filled with awe. At that moment, I felt my ropes loosened.
"Finally!" Just as we were getting ready to stand and run towards Branwen, Beatrice got thrown off the boat and Branwen kicked the chief in the gut to run towards Beatrice. On instinct, I ran towards them and helped them up. I saw how Branwen's face turned different with anguish. I called out her name but she did not respond. She's turning to the Maoh and there's nothing I can do about it.