XL.
Loss of Hope

The man lay dead; his sword was used to hack through the chain. The damn fool brought his sword in with him and Mary wasn't a fool herself. She ran, the chain rattling against her wrist. She had to stop and hide as three large jack-tars rushed into her room. The room that was once her room. They saw the dead mate and they cursed and hollered for someone to find her before Roberts found out she was gone. She still had the sword. It was clean but only because she had strangled the man to death.

By Robert's count, and she didn't know how much she could trust that, it had been another two months. They had been sailing along the coast, taking this ship and that ship. From the gossip she heard outside her door, the Captain was taking no Quarter and that was really upsetting some men. For him to be so cruel, they couldn't understand. She did, in some ways at least. He knew Edward was coming, he could feel it on the wind. He was trying to send a message to him. Mary was going to send a message instead. She was going to kill Roberts and swim to shore and then… Well she didn't know what would happen then.

She would hide and wait she supposed. At least if she were on land, there would be sunlight and food and she was sure she could find fresh water if pressed. She just wanted off this ship. This was a nightmare and it had to end.

She had been waiting, for months now, for someone to slip up and bring a weapon into the room with them. So many of them were cautious and shed them before entering but the dead man had stunk of alcohol and it had made him foolish. She drifted through the ship, from hiding spot to hiding spot. She would see if she could kill Roberts and even if she couldn't…she could at least escape. She could at least get away. Right now that was the more pressing issue she supposed. Her legs felt weak, her arms too. All and all she probably hadn't eaten in two days. Roberts had brought her some water just a little before the drunken man had shown up so at least she was hydrated.

She made her way towards the upper deck, knowing that it was going to be crawling with men. She figured she would forsake killing Roberts unless he was right on the other side. If that was the case, she'd run him through and be off the ship before someone could so much as shout. She took a deep breath and opened the hatch a crack, peeking out.

"SHE WHAT?" She heard Roberts. 'She'…They had to be talking about her. He knew she escaped. She threw open the hatch and jumped out, running for the edge of the ship. Had she been at full strength, it would have been nothing to her. She'd already be in the water. As it was, she was at half-strength at best and so much slower because of it. She heard Roberts calling out to stop her.

A man stepped in her way. She slashed the sword she still clutched in her hand. Hot blood splattered on her face, into her mouth and she tasted the man's bitter blood, but she kept moving, jumping over him as he clutched at his stomach. Suddenly someone tackled her from behind. The sword twisted in her grip and she felt the point of it slice into her arm. It hurt like hell, but she jabbed it backwards, catching her attacker in the face. He shouted and wheeled off her. She pulled herself up to her knees. She was so close! Just another few feet!

Someone grabbed her ankle and yanked her back. She shouted, clawing at the deck desperately. Before she knew it, she was being held on the deck by a large jack-tar as Roberts stood over her, his face red with anger. She kicked and struggled a while but she quickly realized it was useless. She was caught.

Suddenly she felt Roberts grab her by her hair, yanking her head back so she could look up at him. She didn't cry out, but she gritted her teeth and tried to bear the pain. She was aching all over and she was cursing her ill luck. If only she had been a little faster…a little stronger…

"You think you can escape my ship, bitch? You think you can just leave?" He hissed in her face. He tossed her head down and she felt it connect with the deck, sending waves of pain down to her spine. The world spun. "Chain her up good down there." There was dark laughter. "No one is to see her though. Water once a day, food once every four. We'll break this bitch yet"

Then she felt herself being dragged away, but she couldn't say for sure because she blacked out.

She knew the next month very well. Once a day, someone would bring her water, just as Black Bart instructed. She tried to make the drink last through the day by only taking small sips but she was only given a shallow bowl's worth. Just enough to wet her throat and then no more. Not until the next day. She spent three hungry days before on the fourth she was given just a little bit of food. She was only given enough to stop her stomach from ripping her apart and not a scrap more.

Roberts stopped by once a week. He didn't always talk and really she didn't have the extra energy to waste on being sarcastic. The third week he told her that it was the start of February. She had been a captive for nearly a year. She didn't know how much longer she could last. Her chain was shorter now, both of her hands captured in chains. Now both her wrists were raw from the time she found the strength to try and free herself. She didn't find that strength often. In fact she spent most of her time pacing or trying to conserve energy. She heard the boom of cannons every once in a while, proof that Roberts was still taking ships.

One day – or evening as it was – he came into her room and unchained her for a moment to untangle her chains from the pipe before shackling her wrist once more and leading her out of the room. He led her to the deck where the sun was setting and then to a rowboat waiting for them in the water. He told her if she didn't behave, he would drown her. It seemed Edward's ship had been spotted and he was going to dangle her as bait. He was going to see if Edward would back off if she was used as a hostage. Of course he would but she hoped he didn't. She hoped that he got angry and charged in and killed Roberts like she had failed to.

She was taken to shore and she was taken by the first mate, who seemed to hate her guts, to get cleaned up. He took her to a small hut and he chained her to a pole in the middle. There he stripped of her dirty clothes by literally cutting them off her. He didn't seem to have a single interest in her and she found that strange. Maybe he didn't prefer women? There were always the odd tale or two of men like that on the sea or on land. He didn't scrub her clean or anything, in fact he seem disgusted by the idea of touching her at all. Instead he dumped two buckets of water on her. It was at least semi-warm but it was still a shock and she sputtered and cursed at him.

He left her chained, naked, shivering and angry for a few minutes and when he came back he had brought some old sheets to dry herself off with. He let her do that while he guarded the door. Then he gave her some clothes to slip into. She managed to get the pants on but she couldn't get the shirt on with her hands chained.

"Mate, you're going to have to unchain at least one of my arms" She told him.

"If you try to escape again, you're going to have my knife in your throat" He spoke in a thick accent so when he said 'again' it sounded like 'agen' and 'throat' sounded like 'thrut'. She nodded to show she understood however and he unchained her one wrist, in fact her bad one. The one which had always been chained up. It was her weaker hand now and she couldn't give him the needed punch to the forehead to knock him out with this hand. So she shrugged the shirt on and then held out her wrist obediently for him to chain her back up.

He seemed pleased, though only showed it with a slight relaxation in his eyes. It wasn't much but it sparked an idea in her mind. If she pretended to be broken, their guards were wane and she'd be able to find a way to escape or at least slit a few throats before they slit her's. So she behaved herself while he gave her a pair of boots that barely fit her. He also tied her hair back and it made her skin crawl to feel his fingers on the back of her neck, a sentiment she felt he shared. Then he stepped away, just like that.

"Why did you tie my hair back?" She asked, though she coughed afterwards. Her throat was dry and a little raw. She wanted some rum or better yet some water. She doubted asking for some would get her any though.

"So Kenway can see your face when we slit your throat" He said it so matter-of-factly but she supposed that was the plan – kill her in front of Edward, drive him into a rage, slit his throat next. They weren't going to die this way though, Mary couldn't let that happen. Her pride wouldn't let these fools be the death of her. Still, she let horror enter her eyes, as if she hadn't expected than answer. She didn't give him a sarcastic, biting reply like she wanted to. Instead, she lowered her horror-stricken eyes and prayed he thought she was breaking at last.

She was only a woman after all, and women were "weak".

Mary was led by the man back to Roberts and Roberts led her to the top of the cliff that overlooked the waters. There she saw the Jackdaw sitting proudly just on the other side of the bay, out of range of the guns mounted on the cliff. Roberts held her arm, holding her so close to the edge a part of her feared he was going to push her off into the water.

"He's coming for you, lass. Your husband is coming and oh, I know his rage is great. We've been dodging him for months, dangling the fact that we have you right in front of him" Roberts said to her, a smile on his face. It was a tranquil smile, as if he got some kind of peace from these thoughts. He was mad, Mary thought, completely mad.

"He's going to kill you" She told him.

"Maybe. The best man of the two of us will win, that much I know. I still have the upper hand though, I still have you and until he knows your condition…Well I doubt he'll make much of a move against me"

Then he looked out to sea, watching the last of the sun's rays disappear, swallowed by the ever hungry sea. She watched too, wondering if Edward was indeed coming for her and when he might be here. She wondered if she could loop her chains around Robert's head and kill him where they stood. She wondered if she could survive if she jumped into the sea and if she had the strength to swim to the Jackdaw. She doubted that though.

"Are you thinking of ways to escape, lass?" Robert's voice was low, he wasn't looking at her. "Thinking and pondering upon ways you might take my life?"

"I'm not thinking of them, I'm hoping on them. I'm wishing for them." She answered, making her voice sound bland. Making it sound hopeless, like she had given up on action and only had a hollow hope to be rescued. Roberts was looking at her, trying to read her face. She looked away from him, not wanting him to see the spark still in her eyes.

"We'll see what happens, lassie" And he smiled, but it was almost bitter looking. Then he dragged her away from the edge. He was clearly getting ready to set his trap and Mary knew, though she hated it, she was the bait.