Kelton bypassed the sets of steps that climbed up to the bow on each side of the ship. The bowmen shifted their aim from the crates in an attempt to bring him down as he leaped to the main deck below. It was a good tactic. The first arrows failed to hit him running, and they had to cease lest a second volley bring down their own men.

Two handfuls of armed men had gathered on the deck, more were coming down the netted pathway. Kelton's charge had initially taken them by surprise, but they recovered and began to set themselves. He decided it was easy to die once you set your mind to it.

The first sailor he reached had barely set his footing. The man's blade was still on the rise, eyes squinting in reflexed fear. Kelton found it simple to slap the blade aside and stab the slaver in his left side. Sloppy. Kelton was aiming for mid-torso.

Their intent was sluggish as it traveled through thick mental curtains of fog. It swelled like mush from many of the attackers. Kelton could feel that they all wanted him at once, a family protecting their own. He easily parried a foreshadowed strike from his left, another from the right. The wounded sailor retreated, and two took his place. Kelton shifted to the side, his back to the bearded rock that was slowly eating the ship. It kept his opponents in front, with the side effect of cutting off any possible retreat.

The lightness of Kelton's blade allowed it to move with incredible speed. His body shifted to avoid strikes while he blocked others. The eyes of his assailants lost confidence as his sword impossibly countered strikes and pecked at arms and wrists. Small damage was the best he could do without risking his vitals. The four attackers were tasking his sense, and whittling away at his endurance.

One of Kelton's foes fell, an arrow protruding from his back. Yanda's war cry drowned out the crashing waves as she too jumped to the deck. Kelton wasn't sure if the anger in her yell was directed at the slavers or him. He knew she preferred to lead, but waiting for death was too much for him. If he couldn't run away, he might as well face it head-on.

The initial confusion of Kelton's attack dissipated in a stream of orders from the man in the green tunic. Captain, Kelton surmised. The men split, some after Yanda, some heading to the bow after Sebastian and Simbawla. Most remained to challenge Kelton, whose energy had yet to wane. Yanda dropped her bow and drew a thin sword. Outnumbered, the end was near for all of them. Kelton hoped it would be swift, although he had no will to hasten it. Instinct wouldn't allow it.

Kelton's opponents began to give him more room, wary of his incredible ability to counter their strikes. He pushed them back, then retreated to not allow them access to his rear. For the moment, it was a stalemate. At least until he was too fatigued to lift his sword.

Yanda screamed. Not a war cry, but one of terror. Kelton dared a glance and saw men flooding down from the bow to surround her. It meant that Simbawla and Sebastian had fallen. His world was quickly collapsing, and it wasn't what he expected. The waste of it bothered him. Death had fooled him. It wasn't going to end without thought like he imagined. Kelton's attention returned to his foes, not wishing to witness the end of Yanda.

The next cry curdled Kelton's gut. Though one slaver was limping away from Yanda, blood soaking his leg, the others had disarmed her. The wail was for the lack of death. She struggled without hope to free herself from their grasp. Yanda's eyes met Kelton for the briefest of moments as the men pulled her down to the deck. He could see the panic in them. They begged him for release. She wanted to die.

When the first piece of clothing was ripped from Yanda's body, Sebastian's words came back. There are fates worse than death. They meant to defile her, ruin everything that she was. Yanda tried to smash her head into the deck but was stopped by two sets of hands. Her shriek pierced Kelton's ears as more of her body was exposed.

Reality faded to the back of Kelton's mind. Anger surged forth, encompassing the world in a horrible shade of blood. His sword began to move, heedless of his sense's warnings. Cutting a path to Yanda was his only goal. The first slaver who tried to slow his advance fell to a sword in the ribs, another to a deep cut on his arm.

The screams that echoed in Kelton's head were from his own lungs. Madness had overtaken him. Sights and sounds were muffled, feeling as if they belonged somewhere else. His only focus was on the man who had dropped to his knees between Yanda's legs. Her entire body tensed, straining to fight the many who held her open. The man meant to mount her and Kelton was still too far away. Worse than real death, she would die inside.

Kelton turned to the surprise of the men that hounded him. His sense filled with timid intent. They feared him. He knocked away a feeble strike from a slaver wore a beard similar to his captain. Kelton ducked under the man's elbow and came up behind him, pulling the man backward with a sword at his throat. The sailor surrendered his sword to the deck, his hands reaching up trying to stall Kelton's weapon.

"Stop this foulness, or this man dies!" Kelton said, cutting shallow with his blade. He pointed the condemned toward the Captain. Spittal had joined Kelton's words. A picture of insanity that slowed the other sailors. Even the rapists had stopped.

"Stop, or by the Goddess, I will kill him, then use my last to bury my sword into you," Kelton said. Blood began trickling down his hostage's front. The Captain raised his hands, palms out, signaling his men to stop. Kelton's mind was working on a path to get the Captain. It was the climb up the net that would be the risk. Bowmen still held the high ground.

"This only ends one way," the Captain called back.

"Then end it," Kelton replied. "Give her a quick death, and I'll spare this one." He dug the sword a little deeper to add credence to his words. He tried to avoid looking a Yanda. She was spread out, exposed and vulnerable. Not the way he wished to remember her. He knew it wasn't how she desired to be seen.

"Too many have died," the Captain pointed a Yanda. "Most from her bow. Do you think I will leave their families without compensation? Nay, this endeavor is already too costly. I'll not throw good coin away."

"And I will not watch her suffer so," Kelton said. "How many do you think I can end before I fall?" The words were as much growled as spoken. He tightened his grip on his prisoner when the man struggled to lessen the tautness of the blade.

"It matters not when it happens, boy," the Captain argued. "Her fate is already sealed. She might as well learn her place now. Mayhap, this will be the worst of it and the rest not seem so bad."

"As I breathe, I'll not allow it." Kelton spit on the ground in front of the men that had gathered near. They flinched as if it had been a sword. His sense had earned their fear. "Certainly not by you and yours."

The Captain took a deep breath, and let it out loudly. He looked up at the sky as if an answer to the impasse was located in the clouds. Wood snapped as the ship rose with a wave against the bearded rock. It wouldn't be long before the argument was moot and they were swallowed by the ocean.

"There is no time for this." The Captain shook his head. "I will grant you and her secure passage. I make no promises beyond the slave market, but she will be untouched on my ship."

"We prefer death," Kelton said with defiance.

"That is your choice." The Captain pointed at Yanda. Inadvertently, Kelton followed his finger. Yanda's face was a mask of terror. All of her womanhood was revealed to the world, held taught by those that would defile her. "She doesn't have that choice. She will be sold whether you live or not. You can only control what happens between now and then." He pointed at Kelton. "But we will take an awful vengeance if you chose unwisely."

"And I am to trust a slaver?"

"I break no laws," the Captain responded as if insulted. "All I do is righteous in the eyes of my king. Captain Sol'in de Marque does not go back on his word." He pursed his lips and his shoulders visibly relaxed. "I swear on the life of my son."

"An easy claim," Kelton spat. "Am I to reach from the grave and strike him dead if you speak false."

"Nay," the Captain said, his words barely audible over the waves. "But if you dig into his throat any deeper, my offer is void, and I will flay the skin from your woman's bones, coin be damned."

Kelton lessened his hold on the Captain's son. It had been blind luck that he had chosen him. Maybe the only reason the Captain stalled the attack. The bargain was an unfair one, but he only had one real choice. Either way, Yanda would be spoiled. At least this way, he won't know about it. Selfish. Of course, he'd be sold as well. Joint misery as atonement.

"She will be fed?"

"As I eat and drink, so shall you both," the Captain said. "You will be caged below. I can't have her leaping into the sea." It wasn't lost on Kelton that Yanda was the real value. He was but a means to less death, and perhaps a few coins as a bonus.

Kelton lowered his sword from the son's neck but kept it across the man's chest. A small concession while he pondered the poor choice he had earned.

"We will be housed together?" Kelton asked.

"Together, until you are sold," the Captain replied, nodding his head. "It is not a small thing I give you. My men are angry. She has killed friends, and it will sap them to leave her unscathed." He smirked. "You, I think they would prefer to avoid. Whoever taught you the sword is worth their weight. I'm sure the man who gave you that scar knows this well."

"Let her cover herself," Kelton said. It came out as more of a plea then Kelton intended. It was painful seeing her naked and stretched for use.

"Then we are agreed?"

Kelton assessed the Captain and decided he was not untruthful. Comparable to bird droppings at best, but not a liar. He lowered his sword and pushed the Captain's son toward his waiting comrades. The man nearly tripped adding to the distance.

"My sword will remain until she is clothed," Kelton said. He was exposed to the archers now. If Kelton had misjudged, the Captain would show his hand now. Instead, intent lessoned. The Captain signaled for the bows to be lowered and yelled orders to the men around Yanda. She curled into a ball when they let go of her, hugging her knees as if it could protect her from the shame that almost occurred. Frustrated, the sailors gathered her clothes and threw them at her.

Yanda's arrogance had been wiped from her existence. She stood partially clothed and finished dressing in the middle of the group of her attackers. Whatever she was thinking, it wasn't salvation. Kelton could almost feel the defeat in her soul. Her eyes flitted to the side of the ship, near where the bearded rock continued to eat the hull. Kelton was sure she was going to try and break through the men and throw herself into the sea. She wouldn't make it. The Captain might use the attempt to break the bargain, and all would be for naught.

"Tawana," Kelton called. Yanda shook her head, terror once again rising to her eyes. "Tawana," he repeated and threw his sword to the deck. She dropped to her knees and spilled out a plea, words that Kelton could only imagine the meaning. Kelton shook his head.

The future was already written, or at least the next days at sea. There was only reprieve from today and tomorrow will have to save itself. Kelton could see Yanda wasn't fooled into thinking it was over. She had seen what he had done and surmised the outcome. He was asking her to become a slave, cursed by his selfishness to not see her defiled at that moment.

"Do you know what she says?" Kelton asked the Captain.

The Captain's eyebrows rose. "Only bits. Nothing more than any other may say. You do not know her tongue?"

"Nay," Kelton replied, shaking his head. "And now I feel she will hate me. This is the choice you have given me."

"It is not my fault you claimed her. I look out for my own. In the future, I think it wise you do the same." The Captain put his hands on his hips. "Will you climb up, or must we drag you by rope?"

It took some time to convince Yanda to climb. Kelton could see the life debt and reality warring within her. It had been cruel of him to claim a debt he didn't think was real. It was real for her, and he abused it to win an unwinnable argument. All because jumped from the bow. If only he had remained in their fort, he could have heeded Sebastian's words and saved her the shame. He knew for her, the humiliation was much worse than death.

"I'm sorry," Kelton whispered when they neared the top of the netting. Yanda didn't answer. Sailors reached down and pulled them over the edge. Yanda was visibly shaking when her feet were securely on the slave ship. Kelton looked back as the rest of Sebastian's crew, the one who had surrendered, climbed aboard.

On the bow, two men lay dead. One a sailor and teacher, the other his Captain. Two more dead because of Kelton. All those around him seemed to be marked for doom. Even those who had no idea who he was. Maybe he should have just fallen on his sword and saved fate the trouble of orchestrating the ends of those he cared about. Kelton decided it would be wise not to befriend anyone else. It was best if he became someone to be avoided.

"Burn it," the Captain instructed the crew. "I'll not leave its captain for gulls and fish."

The hold stunk. There were wrought iron cages along the spine of the ship. Four cells, two of which held men, another filled with women. They were visibly dejected and none too pleased that more were joining them. They lay about the floor, huddled together in cramped quarters. A large bucket sat alone in the corner of each cell. Filled with human waste, Kelton surmised. The source of the odor that hung heavy in the air.

"We are five days out," the Captain said as he indicated for Kelton and Yanda to enter the lone empty cage. "You will be feed as I have agreed, and she'll remain untouched. My bargain holds as long as you two remain docile, or until you are sold." The door to the cell closed and a crewman latched it closed with an iron box. "My son's life has bought you consideration, not amnesty. Do not test my limits." He turned to walk away, then stalled in thought. Stepping over one of the thick spines that ran the breadth of the hull, he opened a chest and withdrew two thick blankets.

"Docile," the Captain repeated as he examined Kelton closely. Kelton nodded. The Captain pushed the blankets through the cell bars and let them drop the ground. He left without another word. The crewman followed, snickering as if there were humor in the Captain's words.

Yanda snatched a blanket and retired to the floor in the corner. Kelton left the other on the ground. The cell of women was closest, and it held no comforts such as blankets. Some of the women looked ill-suited for the cold damp of the season. He suspected they huddled together as much for warmth as they did for fear.

The arrogance, or was it vengeance, had returned to Yanda. She made it clear that Kelton should stay on his side of the cell, which was defined by the side she was not in. He couldn't blame her. It was not well thought to abandon her, Simbawla, and Sebastian. They could have all died together as one. Kelton couldn't fathom why she left the other two to join in the battle below the bow. Probably due to her insane life debt.

Yanda sneered at him when Kelton looked her way. He couldn't easily kill her. That's part of why he jumped to the deck below. He wanted to be responsible for no one. It was easier to leave the deed to Sebastian. Even now, he couldn't do what he agreed. It wouldn't be difficult to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze until her breath ceased. She'd allow it, even welcome it. Kelton leaned his head against the iron bars and squeezed his eyes tight. He was too weak. He couldn't do it even knowing what was going to happen to her.

More than anything, Kelton wanted to be that ignorant boy in the woods again.