XXXIX.
Prisoner

Mary awoke when she was tied up and being hauled onto Robert's ship. She kicked and yelled but he tossed her up onto the deck and she was silenced by her landing. Hitting the hard deck forced all the breath out of her lungs and made her wheeze. As she lay there, trying to remember how to breathe again, she realized that Roberts had made a huge mistake - he hadn't removed any of her weapons. She quickly cut the rope with her wrist blade and rolled to her feet as Black Bart towered over her, grinning at her in a lavish way. She was quickly surrounded by his crew, all grinning and leering, eyes undressing her, raking down her figure with crude intention.

"Looks like you're more resourceful than I thought." He chuckled, eyes glittering with amusement. She tensed, ready to rush at him but he spoke before she could move an inch. "Men, take her weapons from her."

Just like that, a swarm of men was upon her and while she fought, oh did she fight, there were too many. She realized quickly that this wasn't about them taking her weapons; it was about them breaking her will to fight. She wasn't going to give up so easily though. Her weapons were quickly lost in the tide of men with wandering fingers. Her wrist blades were unstrapped and kicked away, her sword too. Any weapon she had was quickly pulled off her person. Their fingers wandered up her shirt, down her trousers and she fought them off with her bare hands. There were just too many though. So many men, too many fingers to break. She didn't let them win though, she would not let them break her so easily.

Then she heard Roberts call for his men to step away and get preparations underway for them to set sail. They all left her so quickly, she fell to one knee. She panted, feeling bruised and molested but she hadn't given up and that was what mattered. A bruised body could heal given time, but a broken will would leave her a shell. She saw Robert's boot before her and heard him laugh.

"You're a fighter, I'll give you that. And you're a perfect reason for Kenway to not sink us. But that doesn't mean we won't sink him, oh no. We're going to break his little ship in half and send him to the deep." He was crouched in front of her, grinning like the mad man he was. She spat blood in his face, trying to think up a reply to go with it. Before she could though he backhanded her so hard she saw stars and so quickly there wasn't a chance for her to dodge.

"Son of a-" She hissed, trying to right herself.

"Ah…you have such spirit in you yet, but I'll find a way to break you. I will. That way if Kenway does live, I can dangle his broken little kitten in front of him." He grabbed her arm and hauled her up once more. She grabbed his arm and tried to twist it, trying to break it. He threw her away from him and another man, a much bigger man, pounced upon her and soon she found herself in chains, sporting several new bruises.

He led her below deck and to a windowless room. There was a pile of hay in the corner and what looked to be a thick metal pipe by the pile of hay. Across from the pile of hay which she realized was a makeshift bed, was a pot that she thought was to be used as a privy. Roberts led her over there and she saw there was a chain attached to the pipe. She fought him as he tried to attach it to wrist. It was a long fight, one where she was proud to say she got in a few good hits but Roberts won it. He chained her to the pipe and then took off the other chain around her wrists before retreating.

"Welcome to my ship, lass! I'm sure the lads will have fun figuring out who gets to visit you first."

Then the door shut and the room was cast into darkness. She sat there a long time and she felt her heart shudder with fear.

It wasn't fear of the dark, no, it was the fear of what Roberts said. The men visiting her wouldn't be there for any friendly means. No, they'd be taking her by force. She could fight but how long could she keep that up? She suddenly had deep doubts about herself and her strength. No…she had to fight and she had to win. She couldn't allow them to…to…No. She just wouldn't even think about it, because it wouldn't happen. She would protect herself no matter what. Edward would come for her eventually, she knew that too. He wouldn't abandon her, he already promised that.

So she sat in the dark, alone and tried not to let her fears take over her mind. She was better than that. She was so much better than that. She was stronger than that. She did try to twist her arm out of the shackle but less she broke her thumb at a severally odd angle, there was no way she would be able to get her hand out of it. In fact, all she managed was to make her wrist hurt and she didn't want to rub it raw so she ended up just sitting in the corner, knees up, arms draped over her knees.

She experimented a little in her alone time, seeing how far she could move about the room. She could reach the pot, but nowhere near the door. She couldn't even touch it if she stretched as far as she could. So she sat in the dark, silent with only her thoughts for company. She worried for Edward terribly and knew he had to be worrying after her. She hoped that didn't cause him to do anything foolish.

As she sat and waited, she heard the boom of cannons. It was loud, probably meaning cannons were being fired no so far from where she sat. She hoped that maybe a cannonball would fly through the room and somehow help her figure out where she was and maybe break the pipe her chain was attached to. There was no such luck though and she sat even longer in the dark room. She grew hungry again after a spell and terribly thirsty. There was nothing she could do to sate the thirst or end her hunger.

Well after the cannons had stopped firing and she had heard the yelling of victorious men die down, she heard footsteps coming near the door. She didn't bother to get up, reserving what energy she had left to defending herself if need be. The door unlatched and opened, spilling light into the room. Mary flinched, her eyes burning. She squinted to see Roberts, holding a tray of bread and rum. Not the best meal, but her stomach pinched at the sight of it.

"Did you think I forgot about you, lass?" He asked, hanging a lantern by the door. She kept her mouth shut though, no bothering to answer him. He set the tray down and slid it towards her. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, as if she might be able to reach it.

She looked at the bread and the rum doubtfully. What if he poisoned it? Was he trying to kill her already? Give her rotting corpse to Edward? She glanced back at him and he was smiling, as if he found something funny.

"It's perfectly good. I'm not going to kill you. Yet"

"Why not?" She asked. She dared a sip of her rum. It tasted fine, but that didn't mean anything. Still the cool liquid down her throat felt heavenly.

"Because you clearly mean something to him – he clearly wants you. You have value" His words were simple. She narrowed her eyes and touched the nearly stale bread. She broke a piece off and ate it, finding that it tasted safe enough.

"Basically I'm nothing but treasure to you" She stated.

"Don't worry lass, that just assures you that you'll at least be alive until I can kill that bastard, Kenway" He seemed to act as if she should find comfort in this.

"So you're giving me quarter?"

"Well…what happens here when we're sailing, when I'm not watching you…." His words died off. She got the threat right away and narrowed her eyes.

"You may want to rethink that"

He gave her an amused smile. "And why is that, lass?"

The lie left her mouth before she could stop herself. She didn't really think it through; she just kind of said it without thought. She said it to save her own skin, hoping it might scare Roberts into releasing her or into giving her true quarter, into protecting her from his crew.

"Because I'm his wife"

Roberts was silent for a spell. "Is that so?"

Mary felt her heart drop. He didn't sound scared, he sounded intrigued, as if this was some interesting information he had just learned. She sat staring at him, wishing what she saw in his eyes was fear, wishing the next words out of his mouth were how they were going to set her adrift with some supplies to last her until she was found. Of course she couldn't be so lucky. No, in fact it was quite the opposite. Roberts smiled, a cruel, mean smile.

"Well then, we'll expect him to come charging after you. He wouldn't want his precious kitten to end up hung." His fingers stroked his pistol. He stayed a little longer, watching her finish her food and her drink. He made some more crude comments which ended when Mary lost her temper and threw the tray and cup at him. He dodged, laughing, picked the two items up and left the room. He left the lantern at least and that was a small kindness.

After several hours though, the light burned out and she was stuck in the dark again. She knew she could endure it though. She would either figure her own way out or Edward would come for her. Either way, she was sure that she would escape this alive.

Mary had no real concept of time while in that room. Sometimes there was light, sometimes there wasn't It all depended on if anyone visited her or not. It also depended on who it was who was visiting her. If it was one of the crews men, often the room was dark which made her struggling all the more difficult. It didn't make their struggle any easier either though. She got in a few good hits and more often than not, she sent them staggering from the room, holding onto their groin cursing and yelling all the way. That didn't stop others from coming – it didn't stop the same ones from returning for a second try either.

Oh and she killed them too. When she could, if she could, she'd break their necks with her bare hands. She quickly learned that took up too much of her precious energy though and she never knew when another meal was coming. She began only breaking their necks if they came too close to having what they wanted. Usually, she'd wrap her chain around their throat and pull until they went limp. She thought the tally of the men she killed had to be near one hundred. It didn't stop them from coming; it didn't stop them from trying. They were men and men had needs but she was no woman of casual leisure and she would not be treated as one.

Roberts visited her as well. She used him as a marking of time. He often brought food with him unless he was mad at her for killing another member of his crew. Then he would starve her and only bring her some dirty water, just to keep her alive. He weakened her bit by bit, day by day and it made it all the easier for his crew. She had an assortment of bruises dotting her thinning figure. They covered her from head to toe making her stiff. Sometimes the bruises made it too hard to move. Three times in the time she had been on the ship, the crews men had won. Three times. She killed them though the next time they had tried to prey upon her. So those three men were among her count at least.

As of now, the door opened again and Roberts brought a fresh lamp, giving her a small sun. She had not killed a man in a while. If she could guess, it was almost a week. She was sitting on her bed of hay, trying to get her shackle off. Her wrist was bloody and raw but yet she persisted. Roberts raised an eyebrow but did not comment, closing the door and leaning against it as was his habit. He had a tray of food in his hand and though she was starving, she paid it no mind at the moment. Blood dripped hot and heavy down her wrist and the pain was becoming unbearable. She swallowed hard and then dropped her quickly numbing hand.

"Surprised you got any meat left on that wrist." Commented Roberts as he sat her food and drink down and slid it to her. Rum again, for when she was behaved. A man had not visited her in quite a few days though. She hadn't had a chance to kill anyone.

"What have you come to discuss today Roberts?" She asked him, ignoring his comment. She took a bite of the stale bread and looked up at her captor. She hated him with a burning intensity and she wouldn't hesitate to gorge out his eyes but she talked with him when he was here. In a way it helped her stay sane.

"Surprised you got any muscle left as well…You've been in this room for some time now. Some months"

"Months you say? How long has it been since you took me captive?" She took a drink of the rum and looked back up at him. That was a good question. The days and nights had no meaning to her. She had no idea how long she had been in this room, how long she had been alone, how long it had been since she had been captured.

"We're nearly at the end of the year" He told her and she nodded as if had told her something she already knew. Perhaps she was going a little mad in this room. It was hard not to. Her time was spent either in thought, trying to exercise as much as she could in the small room, in desperate hunger or in desperate fear. "You've got a madness in your eye, lass. Perhaps in the morn I'll have you brought onto the deck for a nip of fresh air"

"It's night?"

"Yes, I think you need to have some fresh air tomorrow" He spoke as if she had not. He nodded to himself and then was silent until she was done eating. She pushed the tray back, knowing it was no use to throw it at him anymore. Then he left her and she lay down and try to get some sleep. In the morning she might get her first fresh air in months eh? She wondered, as she lay there, how many months it had been indeed. He said they were nearly at the end of the year…

If she remembered right, when she and Edward had finally hunted him down it had been May. So what month was it now? October? November? She should have asked. She hadn't thought of it though and now it was too late. She closed her eyes and thought of Edward. She worried after him but she knew he was alive. If he were dead, Roberts would have come and rubbed it in her face before he shot her in the head. No, Edward was alive and yet hunting Roberts down. She had to keep hope and keep trying to get out of here.

It must have been morning because Roberts and his first mate showed up, a pair of cuffs in their hand. Her wrist had scabbed over from the night before but it still hurt. They put one cuff on her good wrist, holding onto her tightly. She didn't do anything. No, she wanted to go outside for a little, perhaps figure out where they were, figure out a way to send a signal to Edward. Or at the very least come up with an escape plan. When she had been led to the room, she had been struggling and very foolishly had not paid any mind to her surroundings. Now as they led her to the deck, she paid the upmost attention to them.

When they came up onto the bright deck she was blinded by the morning sunlight and flinched back. The first mate grabbed her and pushed her forward. She sprawled out on the deck and she heard the jack-tars laughing. She pushed herself to her knees and blinked, looking about.

They weren't in the West Indies anymore. Where the bloody hell where they?

"We're off the coast of Africa, lass" She heard Roberts say as if he were reading her mind. She turned to look at him. Africa? Of course, Africa…She didn't know if Edward knew to come and look for her here or if he had been able to follow Roberts all this way. Good chances were that she was probably alone. She felt her hope falter a little.

"Africa, eh? And what's a man like you doing off the coast of Africa?" She asked. She saw some jack-tars staring at her, as if wondering how she had the stones to be asking the Captain such a question. She realized Roberts was a cruel man and he probably inflicted just as much pain on his crew as he did everyone else out there.

He didn't answer her; he just grabbed her by the chains connecting her wrists. She hissed in pain because of her one wrist. He dragged her over to a mast and then chained her to that. She was able to sit on a nearby box but otherwise she was stuck standing. Her legs hurt and soon she was forced to sit but…

Well, it was really damn nice to be breathing fresh air again. One never got entirely used to the smell of a ship's lower decks. They smelt…well, if one wanted to put it in the nicest terms they could, the lower decks smelt like men. The sweat and salt water and other things that Mary didn't want to think about. At least the wind blew those smells away up here. She leaned against the mast, watched the men work and tried to ignore the way they looked at her. Her clothes were ruined after all, they barely covered her body but there wasn't much she could do about that so it just had to be left as it was.

Roberts had wandered away and was shouting orders to his men. She could hear him from somewhere behind her. She just sat, silent as she could be, enjoying the sunlight on her skin, enjoying the breeze in her hair. She glanced around after a while, out into the water. She could see land not too far away. They seemed to be heading for it in fact. There seemed to be some type of encampment on the cliffs of it and she wondered why they were going there.

There was sinking feeling in her gut though. Soon she'd find out.