Veronica shivered in the dank cell and pulled Nicholas closer. He had fallen into a fitful sleep, occasionally crying out into the darkness. She stroked his blond hair softly. The little boy's warm body felt comforting against her side.

The entire ship swayed, moaning like an ancient whale. Water sloshed about Veronica's ankles as it made its pilgrimage to the other side of the vessel, though some of it clung futilely at the hem of her dress. The salty brine rushed on to the lower side of the ship, only to return, racing back to dwell about the feet of a lonely captive whose tears fell to join their kin.

The night had been dark. The day had been also. Below deck, little light reached the eyes of the forsaken prisoner. She knew not what time had passed only that it had. And she grieved.

Veronica knew that she would never forget being led out of her room by that scabrous dog. He'd dragged her roughly up the stairs leading to the deck. A knot had formed in Veronica's throat, seeing that the Pearl's crew had done their job well. In her path lay dozens of good, courageous seamen, most of whom she recognized if she knew them not by name – but one she did know, and he was the one she mourned. One had thought of her in his moment of death, as all had thought of others while valiantly fighting.

O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would God I could die for thee, O Absalom, my son, my sons! Veronica remembered quoting to herself, the scripture coming back to her from the abbey she had been educated in. What she would give to dwell within those gentle walls again! Fresh tears would have made rivulets down her face had her body been able to summon any more. Her eyes were dry now, not from the lack of anguish, but of water.

Veronica leaned her weary head back against the wall in exhaustion, only to jerk it back up at the sound of thumping boots upon the stair. The two boots came into sight – familiar boots. They were weather-worn, made of brown leather. On the side of each was a brass buckle, though it took on the same dirty brown as the material.

These boots continued moving down, revealing the body of her jailor. He wasn't an awful man. In fact, he had been quite kind with her. She guessed him not to be over twenty, though it was hard to tell in the dim light. He was tall and lean, not yet his full stature or breadth. His pale blue eyes rarely met hers, but when they did, she saw still the softness and innocence of youth.

Today he seemed particularly hesitant to come near her, his eyes remaining down-cast. At last, he looked up at her with pity and said, "The captain will see you."

Veronica stood stiffly, every muscle in her body aching. She turned around to wake Nicholas, but the young man said, "Leave the boy."

He unlocked her cell, and, almost without thinking, Veronica took his arm. He jolted at this, yet did not shake her off in disgust or smile at her lewdly as one might expect a pirate to. Instead, he tried to adjust himself awkwardly to seem more gentlemanly.

"I must warn you," said the jailor, "that the captain will decide your fate today."

Veronica made no reply.

"He is not a harsh man, but he is no fool either," he continued, each word thoughtfully coming from his lips. "He will not keep an extra mouth to feed unless he has a reason." Turning towards her, he paused in his gait for a moment. "Though I hate to suggest, I – You may have to compromise yourself, for your sake and the boy's."

Veronica turned her eyes to the man suddenly. She seemed about to say something, but calmed and simply said, "There are some things worse than death. I will not compromise my honor."

"But the boy?" the man said, concern filling his eyes.

"God keep him," she murmured.

Deep pity filled his eyes, but he nodded and continued on, leading her up two flights of short stairs to reach the deck.

Veronica welcomed the cool sea breeze as she stepped out into the fresh air after days of captivity. The azure sky brought back a feeling of life to her, and she felt her cramped muscles begin to relax in the warm outdoors. She would have wanted to run, had not she felt that her doom was near. Veronica heard the sharp cry of a gull and looked up, only to be blinded by the intense sunlight which her eyes had been missing for so many days.

She staggered back, head feeling light, but was caught by her companion. He set her to rights again, and the two continued on again, though now she hung more heavily on his arm and squinted in the bright light.

"Ah! Look 'ere, boys!" a rough voice murmured. "'ere comes t'e capt'n's plunder."

Some of the men around him laughed harshly and jeered at her. Veronica looked at the men, a bit of fear welling up inside, though as a result, she only walked taller and moved closer to her captor.

"Ah, but what's this?" the same rough voice asked. "Is de lady takin' to ye, Rob?"

Her companion looked away, blushing while the other men laughed.

"'Avin' a little fun wit 'er?" the man continued jeering. "An' why wusn't we allowed to?" More laughter came from the soldiers.

"You'll leave the lady alone!" Rob said, his voice deeper than before.

"Why? 'Cause she onlys a takin' a fancy to ye, boy?" the rough pirate said. "Maybe she 'asn't warmed up to me yet. I'm sure she wants a real man." He took a step forward, his hand reaching out for her waist.

Rob stepped between the two, much to Veronica's relief.

"Captains orders."

"So you let the capt'n 'ave all de fun, eh?" the man said. "Get of my way, boy!"

Rob stood his ground. Muttering a stream of curses, the man stepped forward again, his eyes flashing with anger. Veronica felt her heart pounding, but before either of the men could do anything, a loud voice broke out.

"Ah! There's m'lady, now. So Graff, what was it that ye were doin' just now?"