By the time each man had his turn with the by-then-unconscious prince, the candle Ren had lit was nearly entirely burned out, its final waxy remnants struggling weakly to light the surrounding darkness.
All four of them stood around the prince, admiring their handiwork. His face was covered in a mixture of fluids, including tears, sweat, and blood. His cheek was bruised nastily from being shoved into the floor. It appeared as though Mao had crushed several of the boy's ribs from sitting on his back and fighting against his flailing. Between his legs leaked a mixture of red and white, but mostly red, which stained his thighs and buttocks.
As Ren cut the ropes around his arms and mouth, he revealed some fairly nasty bruises and gashes where the prince had fought against his restraints, and couldn't help but smile along with the rest of the men.
"I didn't think it would actually be halfway decent," said Qin.
Ren chuckled, "It's only because you've without for so long. Just wait until we get back home and you see your girl again. It shouldn't be too long, now."
Mao, "And if anything, he will at least make our remaining time here considerably less miserable. No more bratty child to boss us around. That little boy is gone now."
All the men laughed and agreed.
Mao went on, "Strange, I almost feel bad for him." He then nudged the boy so that he lay on his side instead of on his stomach. "How shameful his existence will be."
"It is only fitting," replied Ren, "for all the trouble he's caused us for so long."
"Indeed," Mao agreed. "I will not deny that."
After a few more moments of poking and prodding at the sleeping form beneath them, the men decided it was time to leave. Ren slowly opened the door and watched for any sign of movement through the corridor. Seeing none, he motioned for the other men to follow him, which they did, and, with Ren once again lighting the way, they walked back to their own quarters and lay with their crewmembers, where they slept more soundly than they ever had.