As Edward predicted, Charles risked his life in order to save it, and at the right moment when he was required, it was his gunfire and sword combined with Charles's that secured them the opportunity to remove those foolish enough to fight against their duo, as they rowed to the safety of Edward's ship, where no one would dare turn against their legendary captain.

However, there still remained the problem of the Governor's blockade, preventing any ship leaving Nassau, especially when the man he desired the arrest of was aboard one of them. But just like old times, the two of them together again were capable of anything, and come nightfall, a fire ship was well on the way of smashing into the English fleet, breaking it so that Edward and Charles could make for the open water.

Only, Edward could not stop himself from regarding the black sky filled with fire and be reminded of when he last saw the stars be drowned out by smoke…

Angered that Elizabeth was not in her room, Rogerswas enticed all the more to hunt her down and not have his want and will be slighted again.

Barking out loud in the streets, it was only right that he and his men should be allowed a turn on Blackbeard's woman, since he had robbed them all of a horde.

People seemingly agreed, regarding it as close to justice as was to be expected in a place without law and order, allowing silent enemies to come forward; those of Edward's and those of Rogers, as they picked sides and fought with Nassau becoming a battleground, bathing the streets with blood.

Not even behind locked doors was anyone safe, and since Edward had the harbour, Rogers commanded from the brothel, and if Elizabeth was not there, her lover was scarcely the same man while in the throes of stewing over where she might be.

Chin rested in the palm of his hand and a bottle of ale in the other, he needed rest having spent two days without it, but he'd grown dependant on Elizabeth in order to get it, as her body pressed to his was an intimate comfort that allowed him the peaceful escape.

"Captain."

Edward barely responded to the intruder, though it did little to discourage the man from continuing.

"The men have caught a boy that was making for your tent."

Sighing, this was the part where the captain was expected to do something to display discipline, and make a show of it, to remind them exactly why they feared and respected 'Blackbeard.'

If there was more liquor in his bottle, the chances of him discarding his responsibility of punishment onto the men that caught the sneak, would have been greater, but with the last drop burning his throat, a good fight if the captive had it in them, was always welcome after a hearty drink.

With no coat to weigh him down, Edward grabbed his sword and waved it around flexibly as he exited his sanctuary, discovering that there was a crowd surrounding the boy he supposed was to become the taker of what he chose to inflict upon him, only judging by the state of them; They have already endured quite a lot.

Wearing ill fitted clothing, they were no more than rags dusted by the grime of Nassau's streets, and their hands which clutched painfully at the side of their ribs were bruised enough to swallow their natural colouring.

Crimson spotted the fabric that covered their figure, and as they shook with their back turned to Teach, he eyed his men who waited like vultures for Edward to do what it was they cruelly desired and he found that he wished not to act on their desires.

"You have them!" he bellowed, pointing the tip of his sword at the meek prey and as the eager of the crowd laid the first lashes, the sound that the victim produced stopped everyone in their tracks.

Hair wrapped tight to the tip of the pony tail, the clothing wasn't fitted to show off the shape of the body, so it was easy to disregard the gender for male, when Edward had no clear view of the face, or the men neither by a low angled hat, but the noise produced was certainly female.

Slowly, Edward came around the huddle where the mysterious being had received a blow to the already injured ribs, by two nameless men, and through the pain, they managed to pull themselves to their knees hunched down for a breather, awaiting the strength to rise, and as they did so and rose their head; Edward might as well have buried his sword into his own gut.

In an alleyway, shortly after her escape, Elizabeth had shed her dress and done the disguise of a lad that she'd found strewn on a washing line.

The uniform was scarcely the likes that a crowd would look to under the instruction to find a whore and she had moved about without much hassle and avoiding conflict where it was thickest.

Unrecognizable, her disguise worked too well and Elizabeth should have known that a stranger suddenly appearing before a vast number of men would have been noticed, especially when they made for their captains tent.

The tall brute before her and his mate were the first to disable her from speech and movement, squeezing her throat before she could provide an explanation, and since a boot had landed on her tender side where she'd already met impact from her fall, any form of speech just wasn't an option.

Now, Edward was riddled with guilt he could not actively display when it became clear to everyone gathered who she was, but indeed; he could act on the rage.

The main culprits for her treatment, Edward run them through with his sword quicker than a bolt of lightning and carefully lifted Elizabeth into his arms and carried her to where they could speak openly.

But not before he gave his men an order.

"COME NIGHTFALL, WE SHALL REMIND ROGERS HOW SOON, HIS NAME SHALL TURN TO DUST. WE SHALL BURN HIS SHIP!"

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