The Betrayed Marionette

~.~.~

They didn't know how much time had passed since they'd first been thrown into the jailhouse. Honestly, it could have been hours, now that they thought about it, but there was nothing any of them could do, trapped and bound as they were in these dank, depressing cells. The guards were stationed outside the building. They could hear the odd word or snippet of conversation drifting in passing through the doorway somewhere within the shadows, but they paid it no mind. The soldiers had no care for them, so they took no care for the soldiers.

They knew that the night had not passed though, that was for sure. The moonlight was filtering in through the slats in the roof, illuminating the rafters. This place was poorly built in comparison to the other structures within the compound and they were sorely grateful that the weather was fair, for there would have been no shelter from the rainfall had the clouds decided to open there and then. Not that Amu would have paid it any heed. No, she was too busy worrying over the remainder of their crew who were somewhere out there at the mercy of these eastern men. She had resigned to pacing before the cell door, pausing every so often to inspect the lock again as though praying for some unknown way to break herself out, but to no avail. Frustrated now, and having paused for the upteenth time that night, this time she picked up a piece of broken shale from the floor. Kukai idly watched her from his cell, shaking his head and absently scratching at a patch of skin on his arm.

"It's no good, Hinamori." He sing-song'd. "Tried to pick 'em myself when we first got thrown in 'ere and, well..." He held up his roped ankle which was securely tied and fastened to an iron ring in the floor. "Got this for my troubles, didn't I?"

Meanwhile, Amu had been trying to bash open the lock with the piece of shale, slamming it repeatedly into the face of the keyhole, but without success. Frustrated, she threw the rock down in annoyance, ignoring the reverberating 'clang!' as it rebounded across the bars. Outside, they heard what might have been one of the guards shouting at her for silence. She made a brusque gesture towards their general direction, but said nothing and resorted to pacing once more.

There was a moment of quiet. Kukai was still shaking his head, feeling for the princess' plight, yet not quite knowing how to help. The two other pirates who shared his cell looked similarly sympathetic, but they spoke rarely and merely whispered the odd word or two between themselves, fearful of attracting their captors' unwanted attention. In the background, Yaya was huddled up against the wall, her knees tucked tightly beneath her chin. She leant a cheek up against the bars that divided their cells and sighed wistfully.

"It's a mighty surprise an' all, this is, Ya Maj'sty." She mused. To no one's surprise, Amu didn't respond. Nonetheless she continued; "Yaya's never heard o' anythin' like this. Well, not comin' from an official navy, at least, that's fer certain. All gathered out in the jungle in secret an' the like. Not for an age…"

Coming to sit opposite her, Kukai exhaled, dragging his bound foot behind him and rubbing out his tired eyes. He hadn't slept since the night before their little journey to the last island and by now fatigue was starting to weigh wearily on his shoulders. "Nope, nor 'ave I." And he made a half-snorting sort of noise through his nose; "Hey, maybe this is where ol' Ichinomiya got the idea from, eh?"

If that was an attempt at humour, then it was painfully misjudged. Amu cast him a withering look before tuning them out once more, but Yaya's eyes lit up and it was with that that the princess knew that they were in for another one of the cook's thrilling tales - in for another escapade into the deep and dark world of pirate lore that she was so very fond of and, indeed, particularly talented at recalling.

"An' where d'ya think he got the idea from?" Yaya said. She leaned in conspiratorially, as if sharing a terrible secret, and breathed; "They say that the ol' pirate Lord himself had a stronghold somewhere out on some uncharted isle. T'was a rumour risin' after the ol' Lord's death, ya see? Never heard from again, he was. Vanishin' like smoke across the waters…" Privately, Amu thought for a moment that she could think of one other like that, but said nothing of it. Yaya went on; "But t'weren't the last o' him! Oh no! There were whispers from across the sea - whispers that said he'd survived an' was waitin' for all his remainin' crew ta come join him on some tropical paradise."

By this point, Kukai was absolutely enthralled, knelt up with his face pressed against the bars as he took in the story. He'd even stopped scratching at his arm. He frowned. "An' what would the ol' loon have done, eh? Defeated; shipless; penniless? All his gold was taken by the King hisself! What's a pirate's paradise without somethin' shiny to rub against ya breeches when all's well an' done?"

For the first time, Amu paused in her pacing. She looked off into the shadows, sounding somewhat distracted. "I've heard that story before," she said faintly; "but I didn't know it was of the same corsair that was related to the Lock and Key legend..." And she scoffed lightly, facing the bars again and restlessly grasping the iron between her fists. "A pirate utopia… Sure…"

"Yaya said it was only a legend." The young girl defended, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back against the wall. "Helps us pass the time, too. How long d'ya reckon before the cavalry arrives?"

Amu thought that this was optimistic, considering everything, but she bit back her cynical remark and let Kukai do the talking. He ran a hand across his face tiredly.

"Ugh, I dunno… Wherever the Cap'n an' Utau an' the others went off to, I don't rightly know, but I'd sure hope that they at least managed to get back to the ship an' get help."

One of the other pirates piped up; "We've been in 'ere hours at best before yourselves turned up."

"Right you are," said the other. "And per'aps it's for the best for now. I'd hate to be hidin' out in the dark - no doubt the soldier's'll have patrols crawling all about this isle by now."

This did nothing to settle Amu's nerves in the slightest. She groaned aloud, pressing the palms of her hands to her eyes. She couldn't take this! Not when her friends were out somewhere in the trees on the run from Ramira's soldiers! Not when the ship lay on the other side of the isle in pieces! And certainly not when these men were here illegally - supposedly honest men! - so openly pillaging hard-won land and resources from her father's empire whilst she just stood in this wretched prison doing absolutely nothing! At that moment an unexpected, yet brutal flare of anger overcame her and in a sudden burst of energy she took hold of the bars and rattled them so fiercely that sawdust trickled down from the rafters above.

"Open this door you dirty fucking thieves!"

"It's no good, Ya Maj'sty!" Yaya appeared beside her, a comforting hand on her shoulder. "The whole place'll come down on us, it will!"

Amu just growled. Personally, she thought that would have been a terribly favourable outcome, but, well, Yaya was already pulling her away from the cell door by the elbow and the guards were beginning to bark at her once more. In the corner of her vision she saw Kukai leaning against the bars, his gaze critical.

"Aye," he said; "we tried ta take the door off ourselves, on'y the guards were in 'ere quick as a flash! Ya won't do yourself any favours, Hinamori."

Amu whirled. "I will not just sit here!" She cried, aghast. "Honestly, Kukai! Where's your energy? Where's your passion? These men will be all over the island searching for more of us! What if they find the ship? We're in no shape to fight back! We need to get out of here and escape whilst we still have the chance!"

Kukai stood up, exasperated, dragging his bound ankle heavily behind him and ignoring the deafening clang of chains as he went. "Ya think we ain't already thought o' that?" He countered, perhaps more hotly than he'd intended to, but by this point he reasoned that a certain measure of ferocity was required if the princess was to understand. "Ya think we enjoy bein' holed up in 'ere like this? No! O' course we don't, Hinamori, but there ain't nothin' we can do about it ourselves! Not like this, at any rate, but, you mark my words, I'll bet the others are workin' on it right now. We've just gotta sit tight an' wait it out until our boys arrive." And he sighed, his tone weary; "Believe me, I don't like it any more than you do…"

But Amu was beyond the point of reason. She shook her head roughly, turning away as though she could dispel all of Kukai's words of defeat just by placing them behind her. She huffed, hands clasped before her, and returned to staring determinedly at the cell door.

"No… No. We need something else…"

They couldn't get much more out of her after that. Not willing to get dragged into another pointless argument again, the pirates just left her to her own devices. The cells became drowned in an uncomfortable sort of quiet. Not even Yaya found the courage to build on her earlier fancies for the story of the fabled pirate Lord's paradise. But meanwhile Amu focused. Above them, the sawdust was dancing in the air, illuminated by the rays of the moonlight. Outside the guards were talking again. The minutes ticked by slowly and Amu was thoroughly glad for the quiet that had consumed them, for it was only then that her thoughts seemed clearer - her problem-solving senses sharper…

That was, until, her thinking was rudely interrupted by the sounds of Kukai's scratching.

It was cutting through the calm like a cutlass, utterly calamitous to her ears. Behind her, in the silence, Amu could hear it suddenly amplify tenfold. She bit her lip. Honestly, as if it hadn't been irritating enough anyway! Off he went: 'scritch-scritch-scitch!', but she tried desperately to ignore him. She turned her attention once more to the barred door and attempted to regain her train of thought.

'Okay,' Amu began in her mind; 'The lock is too strong to be broken by force. That means we must try to-'

'Scritch-scritch-scritch!'

'-approach this from another angle. If we can distract the soldiers then there's a chance-'

'Scritch-scritch-scritch!'

'-a chance that we might-!'

'Scritch-scritch-scritch-!'

Pushed to the limit, something inside her snapped;

"Oh, Kukai! For the love of god! Can you not?"

The pirate sighed. "Ah, sorry, Hinamori!" He was still busy itching at his arms and wrists; "But I can't help meself!" Even in the dim light, his skin looked angry and pink, great red blotches coming up beneath his fingernails. "It's gettin' mighty frustrating for me too though, I can tell ya that!"

Back in their own cell, Yaya frowned. "Kukai, that's lookin' nasty!" She exclaimed. She put a hand through the bars and beckoned him over. "C'mere, let Yaya see…"

The pirate shook his head as if it was nothing, but wandered over to her anyway. "Nah, it's alright." He said as she delicately began to inspect him. "I must'a brushed up on somethin' in the jungle. Some freaky plant out there disagrees with me, ya know?"

"It's a mighty bad reaction, Yaya can tell ya that. If only we had some water then maybe Yaya could-"

"Wait!"

All heads turned to find Amu stood still, her gaze upon him as though struck by some greater force. There was a moment of confusion - a pause. All of a sudden she scurried over the bars and grabbed his wrist from Yaya's careful hold, looking intently down at the damage the native flora had wrought upon his forearm.

"What?" Kukai asked. And then, on seeing her focused expression; "Wait, you havin' a thought?"

Slowly, the pieces were falling into place in her head. Something of a moment of clarity came upon her. Nodding slowly, Amu looked up at him;

"I think we might have a chance."

~.~.~

It was one such fate that all sailors feared - a grim and unwelcome cloud that hovered over the heads of all who put to sea, whether under the majesty of the King's own colours or beneath the tattered flags of those vessels that lingered still beyond the long arm of the law. It hung constantly in the back of their minds, tormenting and foreboding, for it was truly an ever-present peril to all such men who dared to face the long, arduous journey over the blue line of the distant horizon and, in truth, it was, when it indeed did befall some sorry soldier or scoundrel, perhaps the most poignant reminder of all that they were undoubtedly forever at the mercy of the waters themselves, moral compasses be damned.

It had even, as it so happened, darkened the decks of their own Shining Black itself in recent memory. In fact, it had only been some weeks after their departure from the mainland following Captain Ichinomiya's most desperate betrayal and the valiant rescue of their captured comrades that one of the unfortunate men who had suffered imprisonment at the hands of the townspeople had quickly and unexpectedly come down with the first few symptoms that would ultimately forbode the beginning of his own demise.

To be perfectly truthful, it had come as no great shock to any of the pirates aboard, for it was, after all, typically a danger of having been kept in close quarters - in crowded, squalid places such as those of the dark, dank cells beneath the town courtyard - and so it had been that this sorry fellow had found himself kept in isolation in one of the lower cabins whilst his symptoms worsened for the best part of a month before finally disappearing in the dead of night… For it was not lost upon him that there was no cure yet in this world that would save him - none that would ease his ailments - and so, his outlook grim and with the increasing risk of infection reaching beyond his lonely cabin and ravaging the rest of the crew, it came as no surprise to any of them when they descended the following morning to find his door open and his bed empty and it was their final conclusion that he had quietly slipped overboard at some point during the course of the night. And for a good while the crew had mourned quietly in his absence.

Delusions. Hallucinations. Photosensitivity… These were the precursors to the inevitable death that would soon befall all of those unlucky men who contracted that dreaded ship fever. But before those dreadful indications began there were, in fact, other, lesser signs to look out for. Fever. Headaches… But, more importantly, it was the burning, blazing rash that ultimately forewarned the onset of this unwelcome illness…

Which meant that when the guards first burst into the confines of the pirates' little jail, alerted by the most heart-wrenching cry of agony to ever be heard on the isle itself, to find one of their captives on the ground, writhing and shivering and babbling incomprehensibly, his dirty sleeves rolled up to expose the unmistakable red skin of his forearms, panic immediately gripped at both of their hearts.

In the corner, the other two pirates were backed up firmly against the wall, uttering prayers and looking for all the world as if they could not bear to be within the same cell as their crewmate, barely daring to set foot forward lest they be burned and face the same terrible fate. Across from them, Amu and Yaya gripped onto each other fearfully. Yaya was crying, gasping and sobbing as they watched Kukai convulse in the dust. His screams were echoing about the jailhouse, rebounding off the garrison walls. It was a wonder that no other soldiers came to them then, for no doubt his anguished cries could be heard far and wide in the still night air, but, as it was, it was only the two eastern men present who found themselves now having to make some sort of decision.

Quickly the guards began talking amongst themselves, pitches rising in urgency as they fought over how to deal with this unforeseen case of illness. It did not take them long. All sailors understood the risks of ship fever… And all understood that there was no prospect of recovery.

The decision made, one barked some brusque command, making a gesture towards the cell and the other reluctantly took up his keys to enter. The latch clicked faintly as the door was unlocked, the hinges shrieking shrilly as it was eased open. Kukai was still shuddering and shaking as the soldier paced resolutely into the room. He grit his teeth; took up his musket; there was a cold determination about his demeanour as he pointed it firmly at the young pirate's head.

There was a click. A pause as the powder was dropped into place. Yaya shrieked and buried her face in Amu's shoulder…

But it was, unbeknownst to the soldiers, just as they'd planned.

It was precisely then as the guard prepared to fire that Kukai sprang into action. With a sudden kick to the ankle the man was toppling heavily to the floor, kicking up dust as he went. Kukai took the opportunity to wrench the weapon from the guard's hand who, though he clawed for it, was quickly subdued as the barrel smacked him firmly upside the face. In the background the other pirates saw their chance and as Kukai stood and expertly fired twice into the soldier's chest they charged, hollering as they went to tackle the second guard in the open doorway.

What followed was a short burst of gunfire and a truly rough-and-ready punch-up, but ultimately the pirates were victorious. Kukai beamed through heavy breaths, giving his companions a cheery thumbs-up as they worked to free his bound ankle. Then he deftly picked the keys from the dead man's belt and freed the two women in the neighbouring cell.

"Nicely done, Kukai!" Amu was grinning fiendishly, thoroughly pleased at their combined effort to deceive the enemy. As she stepped out over the threshold, Kukai patted her heartily on the back and ruffled her hair for good measure;

"Cheers for the plan, Hinamori, but we better get movin'! Someone'll have heard that!"

Amu nodded and thankfully they left the dark cells behind them. Like spirits they crept together out of the prison and into the cool night air, quickly darting into the shadows of another nearby building, for the doorway was bathed in a soft lantern light and their forms cast long shadows across the ground. The princess looked up only briefly to see the moon was risen and peeking through the drifting clouds.

"What d'ya suppose we do now?" One of the pirates asked once they were in the safety of the darkness.

Quite truthfully, Amu was at a loss. Of course, breaking out of the jailhouse was a marvellous victory in itself, but all of the pirates now faced a far more pressing dilemma. How did they proceed? They could not, as they were, face the might of these eastern men alone. No, they were far too few in number for that. That meant then that their only hope was to somehow flee from the compound - to run off into the forest and try and make their way back to the ship. Perhaps they might search for their Captain and his little splintered group along the way, depending on how many of Ramira's men still lurked beneath the trees, and, if not, then possibly they might still hope that Ikuto and his men had against all odds already returned to the Shining Black and that they could all make a swift retreat before the soldiers caught wind of their escape.

Amu relayed all of this to her companions and for a long time they considered their options whilst they still had the advantage of secrecy. It was quickly agreed that to retreat was their only real option, but that in itself raised a more important question…

Just how was it that they could get out - unnoticed, at that?

The air was quickly becoming thick with their combined trepidation, the atmosphere crackling with tension as they heard from afar the unmistakable rising and falling of the officers' foreign tongue. They were talking amongst themselves, voices stark in contrast against the ever-present background noise of the surrounding forest - of the whisper of the palms and the buzzing of insects and the wash of the water beyond the walls of the garrison. Breath held, Amu boldly crept forward, following the sound of their chatter towards the end of the structure they were currently shadowed by, and peeked around the corner, glancing across the way. She could just about see the path that wound about the garrison complex snaking away into the darkness, trailing off and out of sight towards the entrance to the fort, but even from afar she could discern the silhouettes of many figures against the firelight. Some were stationed beside the heavy iron gates, stool still and sentinel, unmoving even as their fellow men rushed to and fro exchanging arms and orders. Amu watched curiously as a group of perhaps fifteen soldiers ran as one red mass towards the gates and out into the jungle, guns glinting ominously, their footsteps rebounding like ricochets as they went. It appeared that Ramira was deploying more men to go out and scour the trees for their missing companions. Above, more were patrolling on the walls that line the fort wall. Quite obviously, then, the front gate was an absolute no-go.

Amu cursed. "There has to be another way out…" She whispered. "There has to be."

Kukai opened his mouth to respond then, but Yaya interjected faster than he could get a word in; "Send Yaya out, Ya Maj'sty!" The young woman insisted. "Yaya can get about quiet as a mouse, she can! She'll have this whole place scouted out in but a few minutes!"

"Absolutely not!" Amu shook her head fiercely. The thought of allowing Yaya to run off free on her own in this place so infested with adversaries was absolutely abhorrent. Not to mention that their cook was unarmed! 'No,' she thought; 'that would not do!'

Kukai agreed vehemently with this. Yaya was about to pout in protest when another of the pirates piped up;

"Pardon me, lads," he began quietly; "but, as I understand it, these foreign lads 'ere 'ave been carryin' quite a bit of cargo through this fort before sendin' it down to their ships."

He paused, gathering his thoughts. The others were all leaning in, waiting with baited breath for him to resume his train of thought.

"Yes?" Yaya pushed impatiently, as was her usual manner. "And?"

The pirate blinked slowly. "And… They can't carry it through the front gate." He said. "The front gate faces the jungle an' the terrain up there is mighty steep to be haulin' about all them big crates. So…"

"So there must be a way out the opposite side." Kukai finished, the hopeful realisation dawning on his features. "Out on the opposite side where the fort backs up onto the beach! Where they've built their own dock!"

Amu nodded fiercely, understanding now, making to wholeheartedly agree when just above them a shadow crossed on the top of the high wall. Words caught in her throat, she swallowed them down, the pirates all pressing themselves firmly up against the little building they were sheltered by, holding their breaths and trying to tame the pounding of their hearts as they waited for the overhead guard to pass. Once he did, Kukai breathed quietly;

"Well, it's worth a shot." He said. And, as they began to move from their place of concealment, he muttered drily; "'Sides… I don't fancy shootin' my way out."

Quietly, Amu wholeheartedly agreed.

~.~.~

Unarmed and unseen, the pirates crept throughout the jungle. Quietly Ikuto Tsukiyomi moved as a fleeting shadow back into the safety of a cluster of tall trees. Their roots had formed a dark little nook in which to hide and all about them there swayed long grasses as high as a man's waist and so the Captain was grateful to retreat back into their welcome protection as he watched a troop of red coats creep their way through the brush only feet away. Breath held, Ikuto observed with keen eyes as they crested over the rise a short distance away, their whispers carried over on the breeze to his hiding place, before heading back west towards the fort, dissipating as smoke amongst the growing shadows all about them.

Ikuto was left with his heart in his throat and a frown on his brow. It had been like this all night. More guards had been sent to patrol the jungle within immediate range of their stronghold. They'd narrowly avoided countless armed men since their first unfortunate encounter during the day and it was in some way a blessing that night had fallen so quickly, for in the dark they came into their own - able to blend into the gloom seamlessly; to prowl more freely beneath the trees and take their unsuspecting foes by surprise. And, as it was, they had taken out many enemies in this manner in the past few hours and that was all very well and good to begin with, but the unlucky pirates were beginning to realise now that, no matter how many men they took down, they were still wildly outnumbered. Two, maybe three fallen guards at a time made barely the slightest dent in the armed force of these eastern men and with every minute, every hour that they sat and skulked about in the shadows their position weakened - their hopes dampened - for they had begun to sink in now that they had been completely cut off from their path back to the ship. Never mind the soldiers lurking out there beneath the forest canopy - in this oppressive dark they had been utterly disoriented, unable to recognise which way was which and with the moon and stars above hidden by the innumerable trees, none of the pirates could get a feel for which direction they ought to break for.

In his little place of concealment, Ikuto huffed brusquely. Inside he was still trying to bottle up his seething frustration, for not only had he let his earlier emotions get the better of him, but he realised now that he had been so overwhelmed with worry for Her Highness that he had unknowingly led his companions headfirst into the worst kind of peril. He dug his nails into his palms at the memory. It had been a relatively short exchange of swords and shots, not to mention humiliating to be the ones resorting to making a hasty retreat, but, to top it off, the whole charade had ended with him watching helplessly as the enemy made off with not one, but three of his crewmates, bound and gagged and utterly bested, now doomed to whatever gruesome fate awaited them in the high walls of the makeshift garrison.

Ikuto shook his head roughly at the thought, feeling something defiant flare to life within his chest. 'No,' he thought - that would not be their end. He was determined..!

The minute, yet telling break of a nearby twig told him that one of his companions was nearby. Ikuto was not at all surprised to find Utau otherwise noiselessly appear beside him, as swift and steadfast as an evening breeze, having crept out from her own hiding place. Somewhere close by the other two buccans who had not lost the fight were also currently laying unseen amongst the foliage. They had tried with great effort not to get separated. There was safety in numbers after all and so Ikuto was immensely pleased to find his sister still close by even in this forbidding place.

"Ikuto," Utau breathed, barely a whisper above the rustle of the lightly swaying grasses. Her eyes were alert and gleaming even in the pressing dark. "Ikuto we cannot stay here!" She said urgently. "That's the fourth patrol this past half hour. At this rate we will be forced to remain hidden until the dawn and then they will surely spot us! We can't avoid it: either to the Shining Black or to the fort, we must fight!"

Ikuto, as ever, admired his little sister's spirit, but nonetheless he had to disagree. "Do you not think I would delight in their defeat, Utau?" He asked her. "Do you not think I would love to rid this isle of their presence?" And, at Utau's obstinate silence; "There are but four of us! And god knows how many of them. Tell me, sister, how do you propose we make it back to either the ship or their fort intact when we are so sorely outnumbered?"

The quartermaster, unusually, had no reply to this. She merely looked away, worrying at her bottom lip which in itself was a troubling sign. Utau usually gave little away visibly no matter how dire the circumstances, but even she had to admit that at that moment they were in quite the pinch. In that moment Ikuto cursed his helplessness; cursed this island; and, quietly, he cursed Kiseki too while he was at it, for if he had not attacked them in the first place then they would have not needed to stop at this rock at all.

'Curse them.' He thought bitterly to himself. 'Curse them all! My men are bound in that fort and yet here they have us slinking around in the darkness like dogs…'

But there was nothing he could do. Nothing that any of them could think to do. And so he had to resign himself to this humiliating state of helplessness even as his sister's gaze bored expectantly into him through the gloom.

"Utau." Ikuto's voice was low and resolute as he looked her in the face. "We cannot overrun a fort guarded by over a hundred men."

There was a pause. A moment of tension as their gazes were locked. But, finally, Utau conceded. Her shoulders sagging, chest deflating, she looked away in defeat. Her brother's words were true, after all, and even her blazing determination alone would not be enough to overpower their enemy, no matter how desperately she wished to try. And so they sat in quiet contemplation, uninterrupted but for the creaking of branches above them and the incessant chirrup of nocturnal insects hidden amongst the greenery. Neither spoke, nor so much as glanced at the other until, at last, Utau uttered;

"We may not be able to take on their fort… But we must at the very least try to return to the ship." She whispered, craning her head back to look up at the forest canopy. "We just need to regain our sense of direction. I just need a glimpse of the sky…"

For a moment, Ikuto felt the need to protest, but, the more he thought about it, the more he realised that this was perhaps the only reasonable plan they had. A firm look on his face, he nodded once and rose to a crouch.

"Come on."

And he was off, slinking through the grass as quietly as only he could go. Boldly he emerged from his little place of concealment and crept up the nearby rise, looking back over his shoulder to find the foliage waving behind him as Utau quickly followed. Their quartermaster let out a low whistle that sounded much like the brass instruments used by the soldiers, but this was higher; a shrill, breathy sort of sound most familiar to the crew of the Shining Black. It served its purpose, at any rate, for only moments later Ikuto's keen ears caught the faintest hint of nearby footfalls and rasps of low breathing and he knew then that their two other companions had been roused from their hiding places and were eagerly following their captain as he made his way up the slope.

They went on for no more than a minute before a group of shadows started to materialise up ahead. Luckily for them, the grass was still growing just as long - perfect for their purposes - and so Ikuto was able to swiftly direct them towards a particularly dense cluster of trees, complete with thick, leafy shrubs covering their roots, where they could each take cover behind the thick trunks and wait in an uneasy silence for the men to pass. Ikuto's heart was in his throat, the rush of blood in his ears almost drowning out the drone of the soldiers as they tried to navigate the jungle by the light of a single lantern. They were grumbling, by the sounds of it, none too happy to be out trampling through the trees this late at night. In fact, the pirates wondered then if they were on their way back to the fort, for they looked to be slacking; muskets lowered; helmets off, hanging limply in their grasp; footfalls sounding heavily as they trudged without care over the brush. They looked like dejected workers heading back home after a hard day's toil, all unmistakably lacking the ruthless and methodological manner in which the previous search parties they'd seen had set out to scour the jungle.

For a brief moment, Ikuto thought quite determinedly of following them, the thought of their captured companions and their possible rescue at the forefront of his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. No matter how badly he wished to assist them, he remained true to what he'd told Utau. They could not hope to do battle in that armed stronghold so heavily outnumbered. And so, when eventually the men did pass and vanish out of sight, he simply pressed on and motioned for his comrades to follow him in search of some hopeful clearing.

What they found, when at last they did reach the very height of the incline they'd been following, was not a clearing at all. This must, they assumed, have been a part of the interior of the isle and, most importantly, it's highest point, for here the ground was more or less level for about a mile in all other directions, but, having crept and crawled their way right across the island's back and out onto the other side, they saw that it gradually sloped down from all sides and below them they could just make out in the darkness a faint and dusty path leading downwards. This must have been a fairly commonly-used track by the soldiers, they realised. The earth was packed and had the hazy markings of not only many boots, but wheels as well, if they were not mistaken. Whatever cargo was being brought out to their fleet had come from this side of the isle, then, but just what in the world that cargo was… Well, Ikuto and Utau and their men would have been lying if they'd said that they weren't in the least bit interested and, with no other inkling of where they might go next, decided unanimously to follow the trail.

"Besides," Utau told them; "I still can't see the sky from here. Perhaps they've felled trees somewhere to uncover whatever cargo they're taking from this place."

And so, wordlessly, their quartermaster took the lead, whisking away into the dense vegetation that lined the dirt path for cover. Ikuto followed close behind. Constantly their guard was held, cautious to any unfamiliar noise or shadow ahead of them, but, miraculously, they saw and heard nothing as they descended save for the usual nighttime chorus and the breath of the breeze overhead. In his heart, Ikuto held onto the slightest hope that the previous group of guards they'd spotted had represented the last of them - that their patrols had been called off; halted after the onset of night - but, somehow, he had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that this was unlikely to be the case.

They pressed on. They remained deathly quiet. And when at last they reached the bottom of the trail and the earth levelled out beneath them, the pirates were greeted by an extraordinary sight. Utau had been correct in her assumption that the soldiers had cleared the trees in their efforts to plunder this isle, but, by far, they had not been anticipating this.

It was perhaps at least three quarters of a mile long ahead of them and several either side. The ground was absolutely bare, save for one dying palm. Here and there stumps of tree trunks remained, roughly-hewn, bearing splintered rims and often carved with unpleasant and vulgar graffiti, but the landscape was otherwise utterly stripped of greenery. Even the grass was withered and scratchy, as though a controlled burn had taken place to reduce the land to its bare minimum. Ikuto turned on the spot to take in this desolation when his eyes widened. Even in the dark they could see now behind them that at either side of the downward path they had carved deep into the steep slope. Rough, unstable-looking support beams made of questionably stable wood held up the gaping mouths of man made caves, delving deep into foreboding tunnels, and inside the darkness grew in tenfold until it seemed to them that a great, black fog was lazily spilling out of each yawning chasm. And, now that they looked further, they realised that the fog was everywhere. The level ground was routinely rent by pits and ditches and half-dug trenches, excavation equipment laying haphazardly in the soil…

The lack of trees meant that, yes, the pirates could finally see the stars… But, as the moon was freed by a sheet of drifting cloud and it's white light lay unhindered across the plain, they found themselves unable to turn their gaze to the sky, for such havoc had been wrought in this place that it defied belief.

But Ikuto, now that he could see more clearly in this new spell of moonlight, found his attention turned to the one, lone palm that remained. And, slowly, as the glow of the heavens grew stronger and his vision sharpened in concentration, he began to realise that it was, in fact, not a palm at all, though it was tall and thin and headed by a series of what at first appeared to be fronds. But it was rough-hewn, as though carved by some unsteady hand. It's leaves were spiked. There was something metallic hanging from one of its branches…

The realisation hit him as a shot to the chest. His blood ran cold.

"Fuck…"

In that moment, Ikuto thought the others now saw it too, for he heard Utau's sharp intake of breath; heard his men curse, but he did not turn to them. He ran, sprinting across the gasping dust towards this one gruesome mast. This was no palm. This was the fate that all pirates feared. A stark reminder of the very rules of the civilisation they had fled from. It was a curse; an inevitable doom…

A gibbet.

And in its cage there could be seen the faded silhouette of a curled-up figure.

Ikuto did not know precisely what he intended to do once he reached the foot of this wooden post, nor how he would determine whether or not this unfortunate victim was still breathing, so high up in the air were they hung, but on the approach of footsteps the figure twitched - just barely, but Ikuto's keen eyes saw it. An unexpected rush of urgency overcame him. He had not expected this person to be alive at all. Evidently they could not have been placed up there that long ago, he reasoned, and, by the way that their day had panned out so far, the horrific idea that this could possibly be one of his own imprisoned crewmates entered his mind. Dread pooled in his stomach.

"Utau."

His sister was right behind him, as were the other pirates, necks craned back and eyes wide in horror at the chilling sight before them. She hissed once - "Hey!" - but to their dismay there was no reply. No matter, Ikuto and the men helped hoist Utau up so that she could get a firm purchase on the mast and from there she scrambled with only a little difficulty up to the horizontal beam at the top, digging her dagger into the wood as she went to help pull herself up. When she reached it, she quickly perched atop the beam itself and worked her blade into the metal bindings that suspended the cage. Perhaps quite fortunately, this was a very rudimentary, makeshift impersonation of a true gibbet. Evidently the soldiers had not the time or means to construct a more conventional one - those were even deadlier contraptions, made from top to bottom of metal. Wooden ones like this, however, put up less of a fight as Utau undid the bolts with the point of her knife.

It was not until the structure began to groan and creak under Utau's efforts that they saw the unlucky victim inside begin to stir again. They jumped, startled, if stiffly, and raised their head. Bronze eyes flashed in the darkness, near-golden in hue and Ikuto's heart faltered as one particular face appeared at the front of his mind, but in the next moment the figure shifted and, outlined now by the moon overhead, he saw that their hair was short and choppy; he saw pointed shoulders poking out through a tattered shirt and tiny, bony hands peek through the cuffs of long sleeves and he knew then that it was not her, nor any of his cohorts.

"Hold on!" Ikuto called up to them, but he received no reply, though their gleaming gaze remained fixed upon him whilst Utau worked to loosen the fastenings atop the gibbet.

Finally there came a deafening screech as of rusting metal and the unmistakable splintering of wood. Utau sprang back onto the top of the mast, blade in hand as she shimmied back down, and the pirates watched with trepidation as the wooden beam began to crack, yielding under the weight of the ironwork as gravity at last brought the metal prison back to earth with an almighty 'thud!' and 'clatter!'. Immediately the men lunged for it, rolling it back so that they could pick the lock and within moments they were helping this scrawny, shaky figure to their feet, watching them stretch their joints and wince as they took their first few tentative steps away from the fallen gibbet. When at last Ikuto looked into the face of this unfortunate soul, his heart was rent anew.

A young boy, barely of age, peered up at him through unkempt locks of midnight blue not unlike his own. His face was pale and pinched, though muddied, his eyes impossibly wide for the thinness of his facial structure. Ikuto did not miss the sight of the brilliant bruise that bloomed about his cheekbone. This child could not possibly have eaten for days, for he was underweight in every aspect of growth, yet he carried a certain sternness - a flare of burning resolve that belied his otherwise helpless appearance. It was in the way he rounded his small shoulders; in the tightness of his jaw; it was an undying, if stubborn, flame that flickered so steadily within his gaze so unbefitting of one so young. And it told Ikuto without a doubt that this was a boy who had had to fight to survive. Just how he had come to find himself so far from home (and taken captive by these eastern men, no less!) he could not even begin to guess and so his heart was softened, touched by the faintest hint of pity, for it was then that the Captain thought he recognised something of his younger self in that youngster's countenance.

Presently, Ikuto found himself upon one knee, one hand on this poor child's shoulder as he lowered himself to their level. One so young and desperate as this he knew should be spoken to gently.

"You understand me?" He asked, for it only occurred to him then that this boy hadn't so much as breathed a word to them throughout their ordeal to free him. And, indeed, he doubted that his words had translated because there was a moment of uneasy silence then as the boy regarded him critically, casting a suspicious glance over Ikuto and each of his crewmates.

But, at last, the boy gave a rigid nod; "You rescued me." His voice was small, but steady. And then, quietly, as if to himself; "You are not one of them."

"One of the soldiers?" Ikuto clarified. He shook his head. "No. No, we are not."

The child appeared to relax a little at this. Some of the tension left his little frame. Ikuto continued;

"What's your name?"

The youngster instantly turned up his chin. "What's yours?" He challenged, his head cocked to one side. There was more bite in his tone than before.

Ikuto almost laughed. Truly it gladdened him to find that the kid still had some fight left in him after all he'd been through. He realised in that moment that careful questions one at a time would be the way to go, if he wanted to coax out exactly what had occurred here. The boy was not exactly trusting, understandably, but the Captain knew by now that there was definitely some great wrongdoing at work here on this sheltered island - on this rock where foreign men ran freely imposing on His Majesty's territory; where the ground was broken into endless pits; where kids barely old enough to drink were beaten and clapped in irons throughout the long, cold nights - and he knew that if he wanted to have any hope of unravelling exactly what was happening, then he would need to take a delicate approach in his questioning. And so he would indulge the child's counter-question if it would get him the answers he needed;

"My name is Ikuto." It took all Ikuto's resistance to wipe the amusement from his face, though it didn't quite leave his eyes.

The boy continued to stare. The Captain shrugged.

"Fine, don't tell me your name if you don't want to. How about you tell me how you ended up in that cage instead?"

Nothing. Ikuto decided to try a different tactic.

"Tell you what, you point me in the direction of whoever hung you up there and I'll have my crew clap the lot of them in chains."

The boy's lip twitched - just barely, but enough that Ikuto saw it. He found himself smirking too. The kid had a devilish sense of humour, no doubt. He would have bet right then and there that this outwardly stand-offish child would have had quite the lively personality had he not found himself at the mercy of these eastern soldiers. He looked to be the kind of boy who would have been an utter torment to his caregivers' sense of order; the kind of boy who liked to play pranks on unsuspecting passers-by; who raised hell, yet was still adored for his vivacity - for his hilarious cheek and love of life…

Ikuto had to contain himself all of a sudden, for very quickly he was overcome with the urge to go tearing back out into the forest and ruthlessly cut down every soldier in his path for coming between this boy and his childhood, but, thankfully, the child's voice interrupted his increasingly violent thoughts;

"You'll never catch them." They said. He looked stubbornly at a spot on the ground. "There's too many of them."

This Ikuto couldn't deny, no matter how strong his desire to deal out some form of swift retribution upon this unwelcome armed force. He forced the thought back for now.

"Did they bring you here?" He asked, moving quickly on. "You do not sound like one of them."

It was true. Despite the dim light it was obvious to all of them that this boy was not from the east. There was no language barrier. His pronunciation of their native tongue was perfect. Something dark passed over the young boy's face then. Something of a shiver wracked his tiny, underfed form as though attempting to shake of some awful memory he could not bear to recall, but nevertheless he swallowed slowly and met the Captain's steady gaze;

"The black ship found us first…" He whispered. "And they took all we had. The sailors they threw overboard, but the rest of us…" He paused suddenly. Ikuto saw him swallow thickly, gaze darting back down to the ground as something not unlike despair overwhelmed him - as some shadow fell over his small form. He lowered himself again, crouching down to look the boy in the eye and utter some words of comfort, but as soon as he opened his mouth he heard his sister cut in.

"Wait," Utau frowned. "'Us'? A 'black ship'?"

The boy nodded. Slowly, Ikuto thought he was beginning to understand his sister's train of thought. Once more he had to fight to keep his composure, for little made him as furious as he felt right then. He had known that all sorts of unsavoury characters prowled these waters, particularly along the main route to the east, but to come across a living victim of one of those infamous slavers? Well, that was abhorrent enough as it was, but to think that an official navy had gone so far as to engage in business with one of them was even more appalling.

"They have us mine all day." Said the boy. "For their reserves in the Emperor's treasury. There's something silver in the ground here that they want to take back to their country. I can't pronounce its name."

Ikuto's brows furrowed. "How many of you did they bring here, kid?" He asked gently.

"Only a few." The child replied. "But they said there's more coming. The black ship brings more every few weeks to replace the ones who don't make it in the mines. They're kept in the fort. All prisoners go to the fort."

Well, that the pirates already knew from experience, Ikuto thought drily. He turned away only once to share a defeated sort of glance with his sister when the boy continued;

"We tried to escape when they first brought us here, but they kept finding us. There's nowhere to go. They always found us." And then he looked up straight into the Captain's eyes and all of a sudden his bronze irises were blazing bright, his teeth bared in a display of such fierce ire and determination that it was nothing but infectious; "That's why I try to stand up for them! For the girls who came here with me! That's why they hung me up there - because when they brought out the scourge and tried to hurt the others I wouldn't let them!"

When he had finished his little tirade, the boy simply stood, fists balled, trembling oh-so slightly, overwhelmed by a rush of adrenaline at the memory. Ikuto looked upon him with a sort of stunned admiration.

"Hey," he said quietly, reaching out to carefully take him by the hand. Whether knowingly or not, the child's display of bravery was beginning to kindle something intense within his own heart and in that moment Ikuto knew that he could not have possibly even tried to make his escape from that accursed isle without attempting to aid this ill-fated boy and all his companions. There was a deep injustice set at the very heart of all those soldiers had done here… And, if nothing else - even if it were to be the very end of him! - he would seek to undo it. And so he knelt before this youth and promised him;

"We will stand up for them with you."

The boy blinked, taken aback. Ikuto continued;

"Somewhere in an inlet on the eastern face of this isle there lies an entire body of men at my command who might help you and your friends." Ikuto told him. "We must return to them first, but, if you can remember the way, I will take as many of my crew as I can to that fort and together we will find a way to free your companions."

There was a pause. A rustling as a gentle breeze picked up in the branches back up atop the slope. The boy breathed;

"Really?"

Ikuto chuckled at the child's awestruck expression. "But of course." And, more seriously; "After all, those men have some of my friends kept in that compound as well. But we must hurry." Ikuto turned back to his little group and was at once thoroughly delighted to see the same look of motivation he felt in each of their expressions. He faced Utau. "Well, you wanted a break in the trees. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Absolutely." Utau said. "I have a clear look at the sky now."

And as she craned her head back towards the stars, regaining her bearings as only a true navigator could, a newfound confidence seemed to strengthen in her expression.

"I know which way to go."

Ikuto smirked fiendishly. "So," he turned to the boy; "are you ready to free your friends?"

Needless to say, Ikuto had never seen a child grin so devilishly before, but he couldn't deny that that beam of vengeance riled his spirit like nothing else. The boy nodded fiercely;

"Lead the way!"

~.~.~