Chapter 7: Cornered

"If you've got a sword with you, lad, now would be the time to bring it out, we are not going to have a peaceful go of things today," remarked the captain, grimacing with the thoughts of what was to come.

Robb viewed the captain with a confused expression, "I thought you said the Alaric was fast enough to outrun any raiders we might encounter on the way?"

"Aye, that would be the case so long as we had a clear path to escape, right now we've got ships on either side of us and the winds not blowing nearly hard enough for us to sneak through. I need every available man on deck to fight so get out whatever weapon you've got and come join us quickly."

The captain left Robb to prepare and rushed up the stairs to ready his men and Robb heard him shouting distant orders.

A sense of dread made a pit in Robb's stomach as he selected gear from his bag, donning the mail he brought from his uncle's camp as well as the buckler and short sword the Blackfish had recommended to him on the day he departed. Robb felt light and exposed with just chainmail as lacked the heavy plate and shield he typically donned for the battles of his campaign but Robb figured optimistically that with less he had weighing him down, he'd move quicker and be less of a target for any archers or javelinmen. Not to mention if he happened to get knocked overboard in heavy plate, he'd almost certainly get dragged down by the armour to his death.

Robb sheathed his sword in a leather scabbard and uttered a quick prayer to the Old Gods for protection before hurrying his way to the deck. In his haste to join the others, he nearly knocked down Elia and startled her to the point that she let out a breathless gasp of fear before realising that the ironclad swordsman who stood before her was the same man who had shared her company for most of the voyage.

"Robb, what's going on, they're telling all the women to stay in our cabins and board up the door with anything heavy we can get our hands on. Robb, I'm scared, what should I do."

Robb put a reassuring hand on Elia's shoulder, "Elia, just listen to the crew and try your best to stay calm, don't panic, you're going to be alright, I'll make sure nothing happens to you."

"Robb, I've heard stories of what these raiders do to the women they catch." Elia stopped, fear catching the words in her mouth as tears welled in her eyes, "Robb, I'd rather die than have that happen to me"

Robb pulled her into an embrace, letting her face rest on his chest while laying a hand on her head, "Nothing like that is ever going to happen to you, I won't let it."

He then wiped the tears from her cheek and gazed into her hazel eyes, "This will all be over soon and we'll do nothing but watch the stars and moon until we reach White Harbour. Now go and wait for me, I'll come for you, you have my word."

Elia mustered a faint smile for Robb and looked at him for a nervous moment before she overcame hesitation and placed a light kiss on Robb's cheek, "Consider that a favour, I expect it returned later so you had better live to return it Robb." Elia looked at Robb for a moment longer before turning and hurrying into her quarters.

Elia's token did nothing but further the chaos swirling in Robb's mind as arousal and the nervous apprehension that follows a kiss joined the others emotions that burned within him. Robb did his best to quench his state of mind, turning to find the rest of the fighting men on the Alaric. Robb made his way up the stairs of the ship with haste, watching women and children come down in the opposite direction to join Elia and the others in hiding. To Robb's disgust, he passed men in shawls and other coverings trying to do the same rather than fight for their survival.

Robb didn't bother to stop them however as in his experience on the battlefield,cowards like those scurrying down the ship would only serve to weaken their chances of victory if they were made to fight. Robb emerged onto the deck of the ship and witnessed chaos in its truest form. Sailors armed with spears, knives, and whatever else they could get their hands on were running in every direction trying to prepare the ship for a fight. Two massive carracks were bearing down on both sides of the Alaric, their maroon sails heralding the bloodshed that was to come. Robb heard shouting above him and glanced to the source, finding Donnel shouting orders to his men. Robb hastily made his way up to Donnel who noticed him and dismissed his men to their duties.

Before Robb could get a word in about how he could help, Donnel sighed, "I've lived a good life lad." Donnel looked up and then around. "The sky is clear and the sea is calm, not a bad day to join the Seven."

Robb flashed a grim smile, "I'm sure the Seven and their realms can wait for another day to claim you Captain, in fact with your temperament, perhaps they'll even want to delay your arrival and give us good fortune today."

Donnel let out a booming round of laughter, "Perhaps, lad, perhaps" Donnel surveyed Robb, "Not a bad kit and arms, you wouldn't happen to have fought in the Clash of Kings, would you, no point in lying at this point lad.

"If we survive this, I'll give you the whole story, right now those ships are closing fast."

Donnell smiled and turned to position his men, having the spearmen form up on both sides of the ship while keeping the archers in the centre where they could fire for as long as possible.

Robb felt a familiar pit of fear and adrenaline in his stomach as he watched Donnel weave the Alaric masterfully, trying to find a gap in the pursuit of the raiders he could use

to escape. After a few minutes however, it became clear that the wind did not favour the Alaric and Robb noticed the pirate galleys begin to row harder, emboldened by the nearing sight of their prey. There was no time for more conversation or contemplation as the galley's closed in rapidly on both sides. He grabbed a nearby javelin and joined the other crew members on the deck who were forming a defensive line to protect their ship. The ships got closer and closer until Robb could see the pirates on the decks of the enemy ships, laughing and jeering as they neared the Alaric.

A voice rang out. "BRACE FOR IMPACT!" as the Alaric was rammed on both sides. Several men fell to their feet, scrambling to get back up as shouts and roars rained down upon the men along with a volley of arrows and darts as the pirates came to claim their prize. Corsairs began jumping down onto the Alaric on both sides, slamming into the defensive formation, thirsty for blood and gold. Robb quickly hurled his javelin at the first target he spotted, a thin man with dark skin like a Summer Islander. The javelin caught the man in the stomach and he collapsed immediately to the deck, gurgling blood and vomit as he died. Robb drew his sword and hoisted his buckler into a defensive position, advancing forward to help defend the flanks of his comrades. Robb slammed one man with the edge of his shield before driving his sword through his mouth, he then implaled a man in the back who was trying to slit the throat of one of Donnel's men. Moving on, Robb picked out a swarthy, fat raider with a long axe wreaking havoc on a spear wall, bringing his sword down to split his head. The axeman had catlike reflexes and parried Robb's blow before sending a towering swipe towards Robb's head that would have dislodged it had Robb not ducked in time.

Robb circled the raider, making sure to not let anyone take him from behind. The axeman attacked, bringing his axe down in a powerful motion but Robb sidestepped the axe, moving forward and brought his sword down on the hands of the raider before he could react. The man screamed out in pain and rage, blood pouring profusely from his decapitated stumps but before he could mourn his loss any further, Robb coupled his pain with death, driving a sword into the man's throat. Robb looked around, the battle was not over but the numbers were against him and the captain's men were being driven further and further back towards the centre of the ship. Donnel shouted orders, his voice cutting through the tension. "Steady, men! Hold the line, and let's give these bastards a fight they won't forget!" The pirates' closed in, the battle further erupting into chaos. Swords clashed, arrows flew through the air, and the desperate cries of the wounded and dying filled the space. Robb fought with all his might, his short sword slashing through the faces and bodies of enemy after enemy. His mind turned to Elia as he fought and the promise he'd made to protect her as well as the idea of what these corsairs would do to her if they won.

With the image of what would happen in his mind, Robb fought with renewed rage, striking down men left and right, his sword painting the deck red with blood as screams and cries of pain and terror rang out from both friend and foe. Robb saw Donnel, leading from the front as he fought bravely to protect his men and his ship. Despite the gravity of what was going on around him, he managed to shout out words of encouragement to some of the crew fighting close by. The battle raged on and Robb lost sight of Donnel once again, It seemed that the pirates were beginning to thin out and the battle wasn't looking as hopeless of a cause anymore. Robb fought on bravely despite the wounds he had incurred, doing his best to protect his comrades. Donnel managed to reestablish a cohesive line and his crew formed a shield wall, Robb protecting their left flank. They braced for a charge by the corsairs once again but before the charge came, a voice rang out, "TO ME, SONS OF SHANTA"

Robb watched as the pirates pulled back to the other side of the ship, forming a line while facing Donnel's shield wall. A man emerged from the corsairs, garbed in red silk with a curved sword on either side of his hip.

He called out, "I am Santoras Qhal, captain of the Dollar, which among you calls himself the leader of these men."

Donnel looked confused by this sudden attempt at diplomacy but responded, "That would be me, scum. What in the Seven do you want?"

Santoras replied, "You may continue to fight and you admittedly have done a good job of it but we still outnumber you at least 2 to 1."

Donnel laughed, "Well the way I see it Santor-ass, I'm not surrendering or giving you my cargo without a fight so I don't see how this ends any other way."

Santoras smiled, "You carry passengers on this ship, do you not. That is all the cargo you need to give and we will let you on your way without any more blood, I swear it by Sallar."

Donnel turned and looked at his men, a conflicting expression capturing his face before turning back to Santoras, "Very well, send 5 men down to round them up and the rest of you collect your dead and return to your ships."

Robb's face went cold as he struggled to process the bargain he had just witnessed.

Santoras bowed to Donnel, grinning an evil smile before turning to a few of his men to go round up the passengers below deck, "Good choice captain, perhaps you Westorosi are smarter than I give you credit for."

Robb turned to Donnel, "Have you lost your mind, you can't do this, think of all the people you are condemning to death and worse! Donnel, please!"

Donnel's face was conflicted but he assumed a hard expression long enough to confront Robb, he grabbed Robb shoulder, spinning him to the bloodied and tired men around him, "These are my first priority, my crew, my family. I've already lost too many of them today lad."

Santoras had turned back to observe the exchange and his voice rang out, "Oh, one more matter captain." Santoras pointed right at Robb, causing his heart to drop, "That man right there slew countless of my men, some of them friends. I want him as well for vengeance sake."

Donnel shook his head, "He wasn't part of the deal, scum, take your score and leave."

Santoras let out a cold laugh, "Perhaps our deal can be reneged then." He turned to address the entire crew, "What about the rest of you, think the life of one man is worth the life of you all?"

Robb didn't even get the chance to turn and defend himself before he felt the cold butt of a spear knock him to the ground, his head swam as he heard the distant shouting and protest of Donnel as well as some of the crew apologising to Robb for doing what they felt was necessary. Robb succumbed to unconsciousness and awoke much later to the sound of a ship creaking back and forth as well as the sobbing from several different locations. Robb groaned, his head pounding as his memories of betrayal returned, burning a hole into his chest of rage and despair. Robb sat up and looked around, he was in a wooden cell surrounded by his other fellow passengers of the Alaric.

There were the women and children that had taken shelter when the Alaric had been attacked but Robb also recognized some of the men who had fought in the battle above to drive off the pirates, they likely sided with Robb in refusing to allow the enslavement of their families and so shared their fate. Robb looked down to see heavy iron manacles binding his ankles and wrists to a chain bolted to the floor. Robb pulled on them, testing the integrity of his bonds but found no give on the chains or room to wriggle his limbs out.

"Robb, you're awake! Thank the Seven, I was beginning to fear you were more grievously injured." Robb turned to his left to see Elia kneeling over his collapsed form, her lips pursed in a concerned expression.

"Elia, how long have I been unconscious for? Have they hurt you, are you injured at all?"

"You were in this cell when they dragged us in from the other ship. I'm fine for now but the cell guard keeps looking at me strangely. Robb, your face is bruised all over!"

Robb's heart ached at the sight of Elia's worried face. He reached out with his shackled hand, gently touching her cheek. "I'm alright, Elia. I've been through worse," he said, trying to offer her a reassuring smile. Elia's eyes glistened with tears, and she covered Robb's hand with hers. "I was so scared, Robb. When I saw you slumped over, I thought... I thought I'd lost you." Her voice quivered as she spoke. Robb gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this together."

Elia nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so grateful you're safe, but what are they going to do to us? Why did Donnel agree to hand us over?" Robb's expression darkened. "I don't know, Elia. It's a cruel world out here and sometimes difficult situations make cowards out of men. But I won't give up for the sake of us and the rest of those here. We'll find a way to escape, I promise." Just then, the cell door creaked open, and a guard entered, sneering at Robb. "Your captain made a wise choice, lad. Now, you're property of Santoras Qhal." Robb shot the guard a defiant glare. "I'm not anyone's property and you'll experience that reality soon. We won't be in bondage for long."

The guard chuckled and walked away, leaving Robb and Elia alone once again. As the guard left the cell, Robb and Elia sat in silence, their thoughts racing. But their respite was short-lived. Moments later, the door opened once more, and Santoras Qhal strode in, his red silk robes billowing around him. He wore a sinister grin as he gazed at Robb, who remained defiant even in his shackles. "Well, well, well," Santoras purred. "The one who killed so many of my men and for what? To defend the cowards who left you to die? You are quite the specimen, aren't you?" Robb held his gaze steady, refusing to meet Santoras's taunts. "I may be in chains but I won't bow to the likes of you scum."

Santoras chuckled, circling Robb as if examining a prized possession. "You have spirit, I'll give you that. But spirit alone won't save you now. You see, in this world, there is no room for chivalry or honour. It's a brutal place, and only the strong and the cunning survive." Robb's voice remained firm. "I'd rather die with my honour intact than live as a slave to a pirate." Santoras stopped in front of Robb, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You'll soon lose both your precious honour and your notions of freedom. Tell me, Robb, what good is honour when you're dead? What good is chivalry when your loved ones suffer and are broken at the hands of men like me?" Elia clenched her fists, her anger at Santoras palpable. "You won't break us. We'll find a way out of here, no matter what you do." Santoras turned his attention to Elia, his expression predatory. "Ah, you put up quite the struggle when we came to retrieve you according to some of our men. I can see why my young slave here is drawn to you, two rebels with grand notions unbefitting of slaves. I suppose to get him to be a good dog, I must break you first."

Robb's blood ran cold as he realised the captain's intentions. "I'll kill you if you lay one hand on her, bastard," Santoras laughed, his voice low and menacing. "Oh, but I will, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. You see, in the end, it's all about power. The strong dominate the weak. It's the way of the world." Robb's eyes burned with fury, and he knew he had to find a way to protect Elia. "If you harm her, you'll pay in blood." Santoras leaned in close, his hot breath on Robb's ear. "You can't even protect yourself, let alone her. Accept your fate, dog. It's time to let go of your naive ideas and submit to me before it's too late." With those words, Santoras turned and gestured to the guards outside the cell. They moved quickly, unshackling Elia and leading her away, her eyes filled with fear and desperation as she cast one last look at Robb. Robb's heart sank as he watched Elia being taken from him, helpless to do anything in chains. He knew he had to find a way to escape and protect her from whatever horrors awaited. With determination burning in his eyes, he began to plot and plan.

He knew he had to act swiftly if he was to have any chance of rescuing her before they did unspeakable things. He scanned the cell for any potential weaknesses and noticed that one of the guards had left the cell door slightly ajar. It was a risk, but Robb decided to take it. As the remaining guard patrolled outside, Robb carefully drew him toward the open cell door with a soft cough. The guard, curious but cautious, approached the cell, his guard momentarily down. Before he could react, Robb lunged forward, grabbed the guard by the throat, and slammed his head against the cell bars. The guard crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Quickly, Robb grabbed the guard's keys and began to work on his shackles. The iron cuffs around his wrists and ankles fell to the ground with a heavy clank.

Now free, Robb knew he had to act fast. He couldn't risk any more delays, or Elia's fate might be sealed. Robb slipped out of the cell and closed the door quietly. He knew he had to find Elia and get her to safety, but he had no idea where she was being held. He would have to search the ship room by room, taking every opportunity to hide and avoid the crew members. The ship was a labyrinth of narrow passageways, and Robb had to be careful not to draw any attention to himself. He overheard snippets of conversation from the crew, which only heightened his urgency. It seemed the corsairs were headed for the Stepstones, Robb surmised that Santoras would likely sell them there to the various factions that infested the islands.

After what felt like an eternity of stealthy exploration, Robb finally found a door guarded by two crew members. This had to be where Santoras was keeping Elia. He hid in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched and listened, his mind racing with a plan. As the guards exchanged a few casual words, Robb seized his opportunity. He launched himself at the guards with all the force he could muster, taking them both by surprise. Fists and elbows flew as a frantic battle erupted in the dimly lit corridor. Robb fought with desperation, knowing that Elia's safety depended on him. He managed to incapacitate one of the guards and grabbed the other by the throat, his fingers digging into the man's windpipe. With a final, brutal twist, the guard fell to the floor, dead. Robb snatched a dagger from his belt and rammed it into the eye of the guard behind him before he could react. He collapsed to the floor immediately, blood welled from his eye socket forming a crimson pool on the wood.

Robb pushed open the door and rushed inside, and there she was—Elia, bound and gagged, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and fear. He quickly untied her, and she threw her arms around him, holding on as if she feared he might disappear. Robb could feel her trembling against him, and he whispered, "We need to get out of here, Elia. Can you stand?" She nodded, her voice muffled by her relief and exhaustion. With his help, she rose to her feet, and they slipped out of the room, leaving the dead guards behind. The couple moved through the ship, avoiding any further confrontations as they sought a way to escape. Robb and Elia searched the ship for a way to escape, their every footstep filled with tension and urgency. They moved through dimly lit corridors, avoiding crew members and checking every room they passed. Finally, they found themselves on the lower deck near the ship's bow. Robb noticed a rowboat secured to the side of the ship, and hope kindled in his heart. "Elia, we need to make a run for that boat," Robb whispered, his eyes fixed on their potential means of escape. Elia nodded, her determination matching his own.

They crept closer to the boat, but just as they were about to make their move, a crew member appeared, blocking their path. Robb snuck up, grabbing the man by the throat and pulling him down before he could raise the alarm. He glanced at Elia, who met his gaze with a mix of fear and resolve. He motioned at her to stay in cover while he worked the rowboat free. Robb heard noise on the deck above him and saw a man pointing and shouting at the escapees before charging down. Robb yelled, "Elia, now" and she began sprinting towards Robb, their escape nearing its completion. Robb finished untying the ship and looked up, his heart sinking as he saw Elia held tightly by one of the corsairs. They surrounded Robb and Elia screamed, "Robb, go. Go for us both." Robb couldn't bring himself to drop the rowboat however and slowly climbed out, defeated. He was bound by his wrists once again before being severely beaten for his attempt at escape while Elia watched on in horror. Santoras Qhal arrived, his face twisted in anger. "You thought you could escape, did you? Even took out a few of my men in the process. Whatever, if they couldn't handle a weakened, unarmed man, they deserved their fate. How amusing of you to try."

Robb and Elia were brought on their knees in front of the Summer Islander, his presence looming over them. Robb felt defeated as he looked over at a terrified Elia, he had hoped to keep her safe, but now they were both in the clutches of the merciless pirates. Santoras's eyes bore into Robb. "You had your chance at freedom, boy, and you chose to squander it before by defying those around you just to try and save this girl. Now you both shall pay the price." Robb looked into Santoras's eyes, pleadingly, "Please, just me. Draw and quarter me if you must to make an example but I manipulated her into coming with me, she is blameless." Santoras chuckled coldly, "How noble of you. I wasn't planning on killing either one of you however as you will prove to be valuable to me later on. These other weaklings however won't survive the voyage and even if they do, They'd barely get me enough to cover the rations I'd have to feed them. Besides, this will teach you a lesson that will make you a much better slave to me and whoever else it is that would own you"

The pirates, under Santoras's command, herded the rest of the captured passengers onto the deck. There was a sense of grim foreboding in the air as the prisoners were lined up, shackled, and helpless. Santoras's anger at their escape attempt was palpable. Robb's heart ached for the terrified faces of the women and children who had been captured along with him and Elia. He couldn't bear the thought of what might happen to them. He looked at Santoras, his voice filled with desperation. "Please spare them. They're innocent. This is between you and me. I'll never defy you again, not in the slightest. I deserve the suffering for my actions." Santoras regarded Robb with a cold, calculating expression. "Oh, I intend to make you suffer, but your defiance has cost them dearly. It's time you learned that there are consequences for your actions."

With a cruel smile, Santoras gave the order. The sobbing and crying prisoners were forcibly marched to the edge of the ship, their feet hanging over the open sea. Some of them looked at Robb with hatred, some with terror as the crew members began unceremoniously shoving them off the deck one by one into the raging sea below. Robb's heart clenched as he watched in horror and complete devastation. The passengers, who had taken shelter on the Alaric to escape the violence above, now met a cruel fate at the hands of the pirates. Their screams and pleas echoed across the sea, but it fell on deaf ears. The pirates showed no mercy as they threw them into the water. Robb's voice trembled with grief and anger. "You heartless monster! They were innocent! You've condemned them to death!" Santoras merely shrugged, his indifference chilling. "This is the way of our world, Robb. Survival at any cost. You should have thought about that before you challenged me." Robb closed his eyes and looked down as he couldnt stand the horror but it wasnt long before Santoras seized him by the hair, forcing open his eyes to watch as every last woman and child met their fate. As the last of the passengers was cast into the sea, Robb's despair was overwhelming. He had been so close to saving Elia and the others, but now they were gone, lost to the depths of the ocean. Tears streamed down his face as he collapsed in horror. He looked at Elia, who also sobbed in grief. Santoras then spoke to Robb, "Take a good look at the girl, slave, it will be the last time you do before your pathetic life comes to an end." Robb watched as Elia was dragged away from Robb, screaming and fighting. Robb was broken, too broken to muster anything to fight back.

Santoras walked away, pausing to speak to a crew member, "Give him one hundred lashes for his insolence and fifty more to ensure he understands his place well." The crew member nodded and signalled for the punishment to begin. Robb was bound to a post on the ship's deck, his bare back exposed and vulnerable. As the crew member raised the whip, Robb braced himself for the pain that was about to come. The first lash struck, and Robb's entire body convulsed with the searing pain. The lashes continued, one after another, each tearing through his flesh and leaving him gasping in agony. The crew members counted each lash aloud, their voices mocking and cruel. Robb gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, determined not to cry out. He refused to give his tormentors the satisfaction of hearing him scream. The lashes seemed endless, and with each one, Robb's body grew weaker. He lost track of the count, and his vision blurred from the pain. He felt the warm blood trickling down his back, mixing with his sweat and tears. Finally, the last lash fell, and Robb was left hanging from his restraints, battered and broken. He had endured the torment in silence, but the price he paid was etched in his blood and scars. He was thrown to the deck, left gasping for air and barely conscious. As the crew members mocked and taunted him, they unshackled him. Robb heard someone call out, "We haven't heard him scream yet, give him a bath with seawater." Robb felt a bucket of cold, saltwater thrown over his bare back and he was pretty sure he did scream in that moment before he blacked out from the excruciating pain."

Robb awoke in a dark, damp cell with trembling limbs and blurry vision. His memory slowly returned to him, one piece at a timeHe had never experienced such agony, being battered and beaten, both physically and mentally, his body ached, his spirit crushed. He was alone, with the searing pain of his lashes and the haunting memories of the passengers' fate weighing on his mind. He lay on the cold, hard floor, unable to move, unable to escape the nightmare he had found himself in. The cell offered no solace, no respite, and no hope. Robb was left to contemplate the choices he had made, the consequences of his defiance, and the darkness of the world in which he now existed. The memory of Elia's screams haunted him, and the cruel laughter of Santoras Qhal echoed in his mind.

From the Writer: Hope you guys enjoy the chapter, I hope to get a new one out by sometime next week. Thanks for all the support and please leave a comment with your thoughts on the story so far:)