Chapter Twelve: In Irons*
"If anything happens to her, I'm going to kill you," Renji muttered under his breath. Ichigo shot him a look of pure loathing, wiping his dripping brow on his shirtsleeves. Renji's face was scratched and bruised, the result of an attempt to overpower a half-dozen of Ichimaru's men. Ichigo looked not much better, his nose still bloody from his fight with Renji.
They were being held in the brig on Ichimaru's ship, the Gallant, both of them handcuffed and in leg irons, having been separated from Rukia when they were brought on board. It was hot below decks, and both men were irritable and frustrated. Both of them knew they had only themselves to blame for the predicament in which they now found themselves, although they were equally loathe to admit it.
"She'll be fine," Ichigo said, peering through the grate above their heads, "at least for now. Ichimaru won't hurt her - it's my neck he wants to see in a noose."
Renji glared at Ichigo, unconvinced. "I don't trust you any more than I trust that bastard," Renji growled. Ichigo said nothing, but looked up through the grate again. "And what the hell are you looking at?"
"The guards. We need to know where they're posted so when we escape…"
"Escape?" Renji asked, cutting across Ichigo. "And how do you propose we do that?"
"It shouldn't be that hard to use our weapons to get out of here and overpower the guards," said Ichigo, with a sly grin.
"Not going to happen, Kurosaki," Renji replied, his face suddenly hard. "Can't have the Navy asking a lot of questions about us. It's bad enough that your first officer saw the Warriorvanish. I heard Yamamoto was furious with Rukia after that little incident." Ichigo knew Renji was right – if they were to get out of here and find Rukia, they would need to be a bit more discreet.
There were footsteps from outside the door, which opened to reveal Ichimaru Gin, flanked, as always, by several guards. Ichigo said nothing, but glared at his superior, who looked over at Renji and sneered. Then, turning back to Ichigo, he hit Ichigo hard across the face with the back of his hand.
Ichigo gritted his teeth and said, "Is there something I can do for you, sir?"
"Where is your ship?" Gin asked, eyes narrowed, as always.
"I don't know…sir."
"You lie," Gin said, matter-of-factly. "She was in the harbor and now she's gone."
"Hisagi,"thought Ichigo, grinning. Gin hit him again and, this time, Ichigo felt his nose break with the blow. Blood began to run onto his lips.
"I willsee you hang, Kurosaki," said Gin, relishing the idea.
"I've done nothing wrong, Commodore," Ichigo replied, pointedly. Gin nodded to one of the guards, who jabbed his elbow in Ichigo's stomach. Ichigo doubled over soundlessly; he would not give Gin the satisfaction of hearing him groan.
"Leave him alone," snarled Renji. He had never met this man before today, but he already despised him.
"The pirate defends you, Captain Kurosaki?" laughed Gin, barely glancing at Renji. "How touching. One more thing you will need to explain at your court martial." Then, pointing to Renji, he added, "Bring him." The two guards grabbed Renji from under his arms, pulling him towards the door.
"Where are you taking him?" Ichigo demanded, straightening up again.
"As if I would tell the likes of you," said Gin, smiling again. He nodded to the guards, who dragged Renji out of the brig even as he struggled against them. Ichigo walked over to the door, his leg irons scraping the floor. Gin shook his head, drawing his sword and turning it so that the hilt faced outward. He raised his arm and Ichigo felt a sharp pain on the back of his skull. He fell, with a thud, to the floor.
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Rukia stood looking out of the large windows in the Gallant's captain's quarters. She had been brought here by one of Ichimaru's men, unshackled, and told to wait – that the Commodore would be in to see her shortly. Several guards stood by the door, watching her carefully. She turned around and smiled at them as she scanned the room, taking stock of the various implements that might be used as a weapon, in case she needed one.
After about thirty minutes, the door to the cabin opened to reveal Gin, who smiled at her. "Lady Kuchiki," he said, silkily, "so good to see you again. I am sure your brother will be pleased to hear that you are safe, once more."
"So that's how he's going to play this," she thought, studying him. "What is it you want, Commodore?" she asked, evenly.
"I only want to ensure your safety, of course," he replied, motioning her to sit down in a chair, and taking a seat across from her. "You appear to be traveling in very dangerous company."
"Hardly," she replied. "On the contrary, I feel quite safe under Captain Kurosaki's watchful eye." He did not react, but crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, snapping his fingers over his shoulder. One of the guards walked over to a small table and poured two cups of rum from a crystal flask. Gin nodded, and the guard returned to his post by the door.
"Care for a drink, my lady?" Rukia took the cup from his hand gracefully, not taking her eyes off of him.
"Where is Captain Kurosaki?" she asked, taking a sip of the rum.
"You needn't worry about him, my dear," he replied, swirling the clear liquid about in his cup. "He is well."
"And the other crewman?" she asked.
"The gentleman with the…tattoos?" he asked, clearly amused.
"Yes," she replied, with a smile.
"He is also well. You can see him in a few minutes," he replied, smoothly, offering to refill her now-empty cup.
"Thank you," she replied. He was being less than forthcoming, she knew, but she wasn't sure what he was up to. She did not believe Gin would have harmed either Ichigo or Renji, at least not yet, but she was concerned that the situation was far more dire than it appeared. If Gin was truly working with Aizen and the pirates, it would be unlikely he would let any of them go.
"So, Lady Kuchiki," said Gin, refilling his own cup, "I realize this ship is hardly the luxury you are used to, but I hope to make you comfortable during your stay."
"My stay?" she asked. "But my brother had arranged for me to return to England aboard the Vincent. I was unaware of any change of plans."
"I myself will escort you home, my lady," he replied, with his usual broad grin. "Orders, of course."
"On whose orders will you escort me to London, Commodore?"
"On the Captain-Commander's, of course," he replied. He was lying, she knew – Yamamoto would never have risked sending her back to England aboard the ship of a suspected pirate collaborator – but she did not challenge him.
"Who are you working with, Lady Kuchiki?" he asked, standing up now and walking over to the table.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, watching him.
"I know that Kuchiki Enterprises is involved in this," he said, coolly. "What is your connection to the Vincent?"
"My only connection to the Vincentis their kind offer to escort me back to London, Commodore Ichimaru," she replied, matching his gaze.
"Who is the redhead?"
"Sub-Lieutenant Abarai is an officer on the Vincent," she replied, still sitting calmly in the chair, her legs crossed. "But certainly Captain Kurosaki has already told you this."
"Of course," hissed Gin, "but he is far more than just another sailor, isn't he?"
"No," she replied, stubbornly.
"I know about the Soul Warrior," he said. She clenched her jaw, struggling not to react.
"What is the Soul Warrior?" she asked, outwardly unfazed.
"It is Abarai's ship, is it not?" Gin said, smiling again.
She said nothing, but glared at him.
"I can see this will get us nowhere," he said, walking over to the door and nodding to one of the guards. "I had hoped you might be more willing to assist your country, Lady Kuchiki. Such a disappointment. Perhaps this would go more smoothly if we included your redheaded friend in the conversation."
Again, she was silent.
"Dear, dear," he said, sighing and shaking his head. "This is quite unfortunate." He motioned her to the door of the cabin. She had no idea what to do, no idea what he had planned, but she did not like the sound of his words.
He led her above to an open area on the foredeck. Renji stood, tied over the top of one of the ship's gun barrels, shirtless.
"What is this?" Rukia demanded.
"Punishment, my lady," replied Gin, with a smirk. "'Kissing the gunner's daughter', we call it in the Royal Navy– a favorite position for administering a flogging."
"A flogging?" she responded, horrified. "But…"
"We often use the cat on this ship, Lady Kuchiki," Gin replied, pulling a black cat o' nine tails out of a red bag and showing it to her. She had heard that Navy ships used the long, multi-tailed whip to discipline crewmembers, but she had never seen it for herself. "I had a new one made today, just for the occasion. It has steel barbs on the falls – a far more effective tool than a simple cat."
"What has he done to deserve such punishment?" she asked, outraged.
"He has been insubordinate," responded Gin, walking over to Renji and running the cat over his bare back. "He refuses to explain what you three were doing on the island. He is, after all, a Navy officer, is he not?" He smirked again, this time at Renji.
Renji spat on the deck. Gin swung the whip, hitting Renji's back. The barbs dug into his skin, and tiny lines of red appeared. Renji said nothing, but Rukia could see his jaw tense in response.
"Commodore Ichimaru," she began, her voice calm, "I really do not think it is fair to punish Sub-Lieutenant Abarai or Captain Kurosaki for my follies."
"Follies?" said the silver-haired commodore. "What would you have me believe you were doing on the island, then, Lady Kuchiki? Sight-seeing?"
"No," she replied, "of course not. But I do fancy myself a bit of an explorer. Some of the local fisherman tell of unusual lights and sounds in and around the islands. I persuaded the Captain and his lieutenant to escort me around Des Saintes in hopes of discovering for myself what might be causing such a thing." It was as much of the truth as she would reveal to him, and she prayed it would be enough.
Gin looked at her with disdain. "You lie," he said, simply. "I know what you have been up to, Lady Kuchiki. You have been working with the pirates and running contraband to the local islanders under the guise of Kuchiki Enterprises." Gin hit Renji, harder this time, creating a series of cross-hatched marks in blood which mixed with the black tattoos to create a sickening, geometric effect.
Rukia said nothing. Ichigo was nowhere to be seen, and she assumed that he was somewhere below decks, perhaps in the brig. She knew she could easily escape from the ship, but the cost was high – revealing her powers to her enemy. If she could manage to have them all thrown in the brig together, they might be able to leave the ship without anyone seeing exactly how they had escaped. She needed to wait it out in the hopes that they might all be confined to the brig together.
"Renji is strong," she thought, as Gin brought down the whip once more. "He would not want me to give in." Still, with each stroke of the cat on Renji's back, her resolve had begun to wane.
Gin flogged Renji again, and Rukia could see beads of sweat grow on his brow. "Tell me who he is, Lady Kuchiki. The Navy has no record of an Abarai Renji on any of its ships."
"Stop this," she said, her anger now flaring, her cheeks hot. Gin ignored her and cracked the whip once again. Rukia saw Renji close his eyes and saw a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth – he had bitten his lip to keep from crying out.
"I don't think so, my lady," Gin replied, silkily. "Not until you've given me the information I seek."
"I've told you the truth," said Rukia, her eyes betraying her horror, as Gin whipped Renji once again.
"Perhaps you, Abarai, would like to help her out?" Gin asked, with a grin.
"I'd rather die than tell you anything, Ichimaru," snarled Renji, grimacing as Gin hit him once again.
"Would you?" Gin asked, laughing. "I can arrange that." He drew his sword from his belt and raised it to Renji's throat. Blood appeared where blade met skin.
"Let him alone, Ichimaru!" shouted Rukia, her sword now in her hand. He looked at her with surprise.
"I did not know you could wield a sword, my lady," he purred, undaunted. "If I had, I would have checked you more carefully to be sure you were not hiding a weapon. But it is certainly more interesting now that you are armed."
"I'm tired of games," she said, her voice low, fury boiling beneath the surface. "Release him. Now."
"But you know I cannot do that," he replied, moving his sword away from Renji and pointing it at her.
"Rukia," Renji said, his voice hoarse, "don't do it."
Rukia ignored him, her cheeks now flushed with anger. She swung her sword against Gin's. "This is your last chance, Ichimaru," she shouted. "Release him."
"Or what?" Gin taunted, looking around at the dozens of men who stood, surrounding them, swords at the ready.
Her reply came as a flick of her wrist, followed by a flash of light and an explosion from the space in between them. Bits of wood and metal flew up into the air. Sailors ran, yelling, away from the dust and debris, and she took the opportunity to summon her dagger, which had materialized in her hand, just as the sword minutes before. She ran over to Renji and cut the ropes that bound him.
"The shore is only a few hundred yards away," she told him, as she pulled the ropes off. "I'll meet you there in a few minutes."
"Where are you going?" he asked, his sword now solid in his hands.
"To the brig, to get Ichigo," she said. "I can't leave him here. They'll hang him."
"I'm not leaving without you," Renji replied, his face was white, and he looked pained.
"I told you to leave, Renji," she said, angrily. "That's an order."
"Respectfully, Captain," he said, as he ran after her, "you can court martial me later. It's my job to protect you." She glared at him, but said nothing, realizing that there was little she could do to dissuade him.
Yards away, Ichimaru's men had recovered, and were chasing them across the deck. Rukia turned and pointed her sword at the men. There was another explosion, this time a keg of gunpowder, which ignited and soared into the air, crashing down on the deck. Some of the railings now caught on fire, effectively creating a barrier behind them as they ran.
"Down here," shouted Renji, pointing towards a ladder. Rukia followed him and he led her back to the brig. Ichigo lay on the floor, unconscious. She bent down over Ichigo, putting her hands to his face, glowing white blue as they touched his skin.
"Gin," said Renji, answering Rukia's unspoken question. "Knocked him out cold with the hilt of his sword when they took me above decks." He aimed his sword at the leg irons. Blue light flew towards the irons, which fell away, onto the floor. Then he did the same for the shackles around Ichigo's wrists.
"He'll be out for some time," she said, shaking her head. Renji's back was bloody and raw, but he bent down and picked Ichigo up, throwing him over his shoulder, wincing.
"Let me heal you," Rukia said, seeing Renji's face.
"There's no time," said Renji, starting back down the hallway, his teeth clenched. "It'll wait."
There were footsteps from above them, and Rukia saw Ichimaru's men, climbing down the same ladder they had, minutes before. Rukia used her sword to shoot a stream of energy at the ladder, which appeared to crumble to dust, landing several of the men on their backs on the floor below.
Renji looked at her. They both knew they would not get back outside the same way they had come.
"Get back, Renji," she said, after a moment, raising her sword and pointing it at the outer wall of the ship. Gripping her sword with both hands now, she closed her eyes and focused on the hull. The wood glowed bluish-white for just a moment, and then vanished, leaving an opening large enough for them to fit through.
They walked over to the opening and peered down. They were at least thirty feet above the water. In the distance, she could see the shore of one of the uninhabited islands. The sound of voices from down the hallway grew louder; there was no time to debate, they would have to swim.
"It's not that far. I can carry him," said Renji. She nodded, and they both jumped into the water.
Renji groaned in pain as the salt water burned at the raw welts on his back. Ichigo felt like a dead weight on his shoulders, dragging him down and, for an instant, he released the orange-haired captain, unable to remain on the surface. Ichigo began to sink beneath the waves. Taking a deep breath, Renji grabbed a hold of Ichigo's belt, pulling him back to the surface and slipping his arm around the other man's chest. Renji began to swim.
"Go on," Rukia said, "get him to shore. I'll follow you." This time, Renji did not protest – he knew there was little he could do with both his hands occupied.
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Scores of men ran over the deck, throwing water on the fire, which was now nearly extinguished. Pieces of wood and brass were strewn over the decks, and some of the ship's sails were singed at the edges, the ropes having caught fire, conducting the flames upwards.
Ichimaru stood on the foredeck, looking through his spyglass at the three people whose heads bobbed up and down in the waves. He appeared perfectly calm, as if the pandemonium on deck was a daily occurrence. He reached into his pocket and handed a small piece of parchment to one of his men.
"See that this is delivered by nightfall," he said. The man saluted, then ran off towards one of the small skiffs that hung from the port side of the ship.
"Sir!" called one of Ichimaru's officers, covered with soot and looking hot and sweaty. "They are swimming towards shore. The men have readied the canons and the boats. Do you want us to fire upon them?"
"No," said Gin, "Let them go. They've already given me what I needed." He looked back through the small telescope in his hand and smiled.
*In Irons: When the bow of a sailboat is headed into the wind and the boat has stalled and is unable to maneuver
Author's Note: Yes, the Royal Navy actually used a "cat o' nine tails" whip, sometimes with barbs or metal balls attached to the "falls" (the multiple tails of the whip) to discipline sailors aboard its ships! Sailors were often tied to the guns ("kissing the gunner's daughter") and flogged, often having to make their own "cats" before being flogged with it.
After the flogging was completed, the sailor's lacerated back was frequently rinsed with brine or seawater, which served as a crude antiseptic. Although the purpose was to control infection, it caused the sailor to endure additional pain, and gave rise to expression, "rubbing salt into his wounds," which came to mean vindictively or gratuitously increasing a punishment or injury already imposed. -Lex