My chest goes tight, stuck, like the weight of that coin-filled trunk just slammed down on top of me. My drum-beat heart rhythm is back in full force, reverberating in my ears.
Captain Fane’s fists clench at his sides, eyes blazing. “And if I refuse?”
A callous, cruel chuckle comes from the commander. It’s the kind of sound you hear before being tortured by a madman. The kind of laugh from a cold-blooded villain. “You won’t like what happens if you refuse. But by all means, the choice is yours.”
A tic appears in the captain’s jaw as he takes in the soldiers standing at attention, their stoic postures unwavering. Even though the pirates outnumber them, I have a feeling it doesn’t matter. “How did you know about her? I didn’t mention her in any of the messages I sent.”
“You had your tip, and I had mine.”
I have no idea what that dubious answer means, but my palms begin to sweat.
Quarter says something in the captain’s ear, but he just shrugs the man off, expression seething. He shifts on his feet, and the two leaders become locked in a stare-off.
If I thought there was tension before, it’s nothing compared to this. Even Rip’s soldiers seem more rigid, like they’re ready for a fight to break out. My eyes bounce between the two of them, worry gnawing at my bottom lip.
I don’t know who I’d rather stay with, if I had the choice. Would I rather be left with the depraved Red Raids, or be sold to the terrifying commander of Ravinger’s army? I’m stuck between a rock and a hard, spiked place.
Finally, Captain Fane answers. “Fine.” The word comes out bitter, like a snap of reproach. Just like that, I get tossed down the lane of the crossroads. My fate sealed.
“Quarter, let them inspect the soldiers and horses first, make sure they’re to the commander’s liking,” Captain Fane bites out. “Then come back for the saddles so they aren’t standing around in the snow.” He gives the commander a look. “Wouldn’t want your goods to freeze before you’ve even gotten off the Barrens.”
The commander says nothing.
Quarter clears his throat and comes forward. “Right. I’ll take you to the other ships if you’re ready.”
The commander pauses, casting a glance at the saddles, at me.
“Fine,” he says, nodding tersely. “Captain, my soldiers and I will be moving out on the hour.” With that, he turns and walks down the ramp, six of his soldiers following behind him. The other six stay where they are, hands clasped in front of them, heads straight ahead to stand watch.
Captain Fane’s mouth tightens, but he turns to his men. “Put the trunk in my quarters.”
The two carrying the trunk immediately rush off to follow his order.
The captain casts a look at the saddles, eyes lingering on the ones with their eyes cast downward, their dresses still torn, shivering in still-damp clothes.
He glances down the line at a couple of his men. “Put the whores in the dining room until the commander returns for them. We don’t need one of them trying to get any ideas about jumping overboard so they don’t have to go with him. He’s already paid, and I’m not giving any of that gold back.”
I’m not certain, but I think I hear one of the soldiers snort.
“Aye, Cap.”
The saddles turn and dutifully begin to head toward the kitchen, three Red Raids leading the way. I go with the herd, my head lowered, my mind spinning. I almost make it to the dining room when my arm is grabbed, as is Rissa’s beside me.
“Quiet.” Captain Fane snaps the word to us like a whip, his grip unyielding.
The saddles near us glance over, but with the look of the captain’s face, they quickly look away. Without a sound, Rissa and I are pulled from the group and led toward the captain’s quarters instead. We’re lost in the mix, so the soldiers don’t see—or maybe they just don’t care.
My heart stutters in place, my feet stumbling their steps. A cold sweat breaks over my skin, chilling me instantly.
“Rip might think he’s so fucking clever, but I’ll be damned if I don’t enjoy you before he takes you with him,” Captain Fane mutters.
Terror splits me in half, threatens to topple me. Beside me, Rissa’s back stiffens.
“I went through a lot of fucking trouble to get here in time. I’ve earned a taste,” he grumbles, as if talking to himself.
My fear mixes with resentment. Anger.
This was supposed to be my one measly reprieve—mine and the saddles’. It’s only fair. If we get sold to the devil, the demons shouldn’t get to torment us.