He came to and jerked against the ropes binding his wrists behind his back, and ankles, and he clamped his teeth against the rag tied around his head, shifting and glancing around to try and get a feel for where he was. His heart was caught in his throat as he imagined they'd simply killed Clara, leaving her to float lifelessly down the river, but he found her similarly bound, sitting up just next to him in a covered wagon. Her hands were clasped atop her knees and she was looking forward, towards the front of the wagon and he chanced a glance in that direction, seeing the three men sitting on a bench, directing the horses.

Clara gasped through her rag and when he turned, she was smiling down at her as best she could and then nodding up towards the men, as if asking what they should do. Killian hoisted himself up with a grunt, slamming his back into the side of the wagon at her side and he tugged on his wrists behind him before falling over again with an eye roll. He pulled his legs through his arms and then sat up with his hands in his lap, taking a breath and reaching for his legs.

"Touch those ropes, I'll put a round of pellets in your woman's pretty little face," came the gruff response from just beside him and when he looked up, there was a shotgun aimed at Clara. Killian inhaled a long deep breath and turned to look at Clara, who simply nodded.

He hated to see the look of defeat in her eyes; he was also furious that he could see they'd roughed her up and the right edge of her rag was dotted in her blood. Adjusting himself beside her, he dropped his palms into his lap and mumbled incoherently.

"Oh for Pete's sake – you know he ain't gonna scream," a man up front offered and the man at the back reached forward, tugging the gag from his mouth.

Killian tilted his head to Clara and started, "It's rather impolite to…"

But the man in front of him interrupted, "I don't care that she's a woman; she's staying gagged, and tied."

Brow furrowing, Killian looked over the man who gently touched a bruised eye and grimaced when he shifted the gun, as though pained by a blow to the stomach and he turned to Clara, who shrugged. He offered a smile of appreciation for her efforts, even though he knew it'd gotten her a good punch to the face, and then looked back to the man holding them captive.

"Since you're obviously acquainted with me, mind introducing yourselves?"

"Rufus, Reggie, and Ron," the man explained, pointing between him and the two men up front.

Grimacing, Killian replied, "I hope your poor mum didn't have to birth you all at once."

Clara snorted.

Rufus didn't look as amused, he tilted the gun in Killian's direction and explained, "We've got a map and you've got a boat. Only makes sense."

"Plenty of boats on the harbor," Killian shrugged, "Many very willing to take on ruffians without so much as a question if the pay, or the cut of the profit offered, is sufficient – why me?"

"Reputation," came the muttered response from the front, and Rufus elaborated, "You're ruthless when it comes to matters of the King, and this is most definitely a matter of the King."

Jaw clenched, Killian threw a glance at Clara, who was looking up at him curiously, and then he nodded back to the three men, asking quietly, "What is it you hope to acquire?"

"King's Ransom."

Killian laughed, "Now that's a fairy tale."

Clara mumbled the question, eyes locked on him as he refused to look in her direction now because he knew he should be kicking the gun out of the man's hand. He should be wrestling for control of the wagon. He should be concentrated on getting her to safety, but he was thinking about whether the notion of the King's Ransom were true. It was always possible.

Gaze remaining on the man in front of him, Killian uttered, "Island on which sits taxes collected that aren't really needed. Monies that should be used for the people, but are instead hoarded away for the King." He took a small breath and told him bluntly, "I've sailed the waters for more time than you've been around, mate – there is no King's Random. No island, no fort, no bloody loot. It's a story for fools such as yourselves."

The gun shifted again to Clara as he growled, "Willing to bet her life on that?"

"Leave the woman out of it; she's got naught to do with these dealings," he glanced at her a moment before nodding, "Actually, she'll weigh us down, we should cut her loose. Back to the forest where I found her."

The man in front of him laughed. He squealed, and then he shifted forward, gripping the gun tightly in his hands and told Killian plainly, "The woman you found in the forest, eh?" Killian stared. "Woman whose name you been calling in your sleep for half an hour? Mutterin' about keeping her safe and sailin' 'er away into the sunset?"

Clara blushed as she shifted against him uncomfortably.

"The woman ain't going anywhere – she's the bargaining chip." Rufus spat to his side and nodded, "She's your prize to walk away with when we get ours."

Lips curling, Killian barked lowly, "There is no King's Ransom. You'd be putting her life in danger over a fool's errand."

Rufus leaned back, nodding slowly, and then he looked Clara over, small grin pushing at the corner of his mouth as he glanced back to Killian. "You better hope there is, 'cause if we don't find it? We're tossin' you overboard. And then we get to keep your ship, and your prize."

Killian glanced at Clara, at the way her eye widened slightly and then tried to retain some semblance of composure as Rufus chuckled at her. "Back to the ship then, lass," Killian uttered in her direction, watching her shake her head before he smiled and looked to the man before them, "Suppose we're heading back into town. Jolly Roger's docked with my good mate, Barnibus."

"Well aware's, Captain Jones," Rufus spat with a nod, "And there'll be no funny business."

"A pity, amusements are my spirits when I'm lacking in liquor," Killian replied with a smile and he could feel the eyes at his side glaring heatedly at him. "Are we to acquire spirits. To be fair, finding a fantasy land does require a bit of a slant on ones perception."

Rufus gripped his gun and then nodded slowly, leaning back to tell him, "Maybe it's best if you slept the rest of the trip." He lifted a bag tied to his belt, undoing it carefully in his lap and Killian stared a moment just before Rufus pulled up a pinch and blew it at them.

"Oh, Poppie seeds," Killian muttered just before falling against Clara.