Yanda wrinkled her nose in hopes it would soon become used to the stench. That stupid boy hadn't listened and broke ranks as if he could take on the world himself. She pulled the blanket over her head to hide from Kelton. He had seen her, all of her, as did the crew. She fought back the tears that insisted on forming. Another weakness to hate. Never had she felt so hopeless. Even dangling over the side of the ship with her wrist attached to that idiot's hand, was nothing compared to being stripped for forced mating. She was no fool and knew what the future held. More tears.

Kelton claimed his life debt leaving Yanda with little choice. Deny it, and be shamed beyond life. Accept, and be disgraced in life. She should have remained to die with the Captain and his man. They wouldn't have allowed her to be surrounded. There would have been time to end things before...before...everything. Now, the young fool had struck some kind of bargain. A weak one, given they were in a cage. Nothing but a fancy surrender, probably trading her for blankets. She couldn't fathom why he didn't just surrender with the rest of the crew in the first place.

Yanda had to admit that the boy could fight. Never had she seen anyone take on four and control the skirmish. Even her mother, the best swordswoman she knew, would falter against those odds. It was like the Goddess infected him with omniscience. Seeing without eyes, Sebastian had said. It didn't matter. The same outcome, though she suspected his future would be less gruesome than hers.

She peeked out from the blanket when a commotion began in the other cell. Many of the women came to their feet, one pulling the waste bucket away from the corner. The women surrounded it, one remaining inside the circle. Privacy. Yanda closed her eyes. She only had a blanket. The sounds of wet defecation echoed in the bowels of the ship. It didn't speak well for the food being served. When the new scent overshadowed the permanent one, Yanda decided she would think hard before eating.

Kelton had turned away from the bodily function. Respect or disgust, Yanda couldn't tell. He was a strange boy. Juno? It was his war cry, or perhaps the name of his god. He thought it significant. She wondered if he considered it important anymore. His eyes had lost the wonder they once held. Defeated, she felt.

"You have gained us nothing," Yanda said. It was hopeless to think he would understand, but it needed to be said. Kelton shook his head and lifted his hands as if to say it was the best he could do. Fool. Her anger was useless. Shame had swallowed it whole.

"I should not blame you," Yanda continued, her eyes falling to the floor. "It was my own stupidity to fall over the side. My mother always told me that pride was my greatest weakness." She looked up to see Kelton had sat down with crossed legs. His attention on words he couldn't possibly understand.

"I wasn't going to let you win." Yanda let half a grin escape. "And I won. You grabbed the railing, and I was still standing." She sighed deeply. "I must have looked the fool when I went over the rail. Would have been better to lose, but I know I would do it again. What does that say about me?"

The boy spoke two words, they sounded the same as the ones he said when they were climbing aboard this floating grave. His eyes were wet. Not tears, but something akin to the horror she had felt when those men, those creatures, tried to destroy her inside. He is just a boy with no woman to guide him. The wrong person to blame.

The green-shirted man returned, captain of the vessel Yanda assumed, bearing her bow in his hands. There had been no time to break it. Another thing to regret. The captain held the bow before Yanda and butchered the word 'very good' in her language.

" A Sorinnian bow looks vile in your hands," Yanda said, adding a sneer and looking away. She was sure the captain wouldn't understand all of what she said. It was acceptable since conversation with the monster was not her desire. People who sell people deserve nothing, not even acknowledgment of their existence.

The boy and the captain traded words. Kelton's expression didn't waver, and he only returned curse one-word responses while his eyes spent most of their time examining the deck. Some of the crew were hauling a heavy wooden table in front of the cage during the discussion. They stumbled a bit as the ship fought a wave, but it settled it in place well enough. There seemed no purpose to it. The smiles on the crew sent a shiver down Yanda's spine, a foreboding of the table's use.

The captain said something that riled the boy. Kelton stood, and angry words began to flow from his mouth. The captain pointed to the cell full of women. He smiled and spoke to Kelton, his mannerisms calm, indicating he wished something from Kelton. Some of the women had risen and begun moving away from their cell door. Fear had replaced their despondency as they fought to be the farthest from the door.

Yanda cringed when Kelton looked back at her. His eyes were streaming, his mouth moving but nothing was coming out. The captain shrugged his shoulders and pointed at one of the women, one not much older than Kelton. The crew went to retrieve her, covering her mouth to douse her screams.

Kelton's back stiffened, and strong words flowed from his mouth at the captain. Yanda recognized a vow with death at its core. The captain laughed and stepped out of the way as the crew deposited the girl face down onto the table. Pleading fell from Kelton's lips. The girl's clothes were torn from her body, while another tied her wrists to the legs of the table. Her legs flailed until one of the crew brought a length of rope down hard on her back. Her body convulsed, and a wail left her lungs and filled the hold of the boat. Kelton fell to his knees, his words falling on deaf ears.

Yanda recognized the girl's scream. It had come from her mouth not long ago when she was about to be taken. Her body trembled at the memory. The rope whip was only for compliance. Something worse was coming, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

One of the sailors, an unwashed pig of a man, loosened his trousers and lined himself up. A cheer went up from the crew as he drove himself forward, his manhood finding a place it was never meant to be. The girl screamed again, her neck stretching obscenely, purple veins visible on her pale skin. Kelton convulsed, and his stomach emptied onto the deck. He slammed his head against the metal bars.

Yanda moved quickly to Kelton's side, pulling him back away from the horror. She used her hand to cover his eyes, her other to cradle his back against her chest. In the far corner, she lowered him to the floor and wiped the filth from his mouth.

"It's not your doing," she whispered. The boy's body tensed with each defiling thrust of the godless attacker. Kelton did not fight Yanda, sinking deeper into her as if she could shield him from the abomination occurring before them. They made him watch as punishment. Both he and girl would have scars much deeper than the one his face. A tear ran down Yanda's cheek. Soon, she would share that scar and have no one to hold her.

The girl was unconscious when the crewmen had finished. Yanda felt it a blessing when her screams had stopped. Blood was oozing from her wrists when the ropes were untied. They returned her to her cell, tossing her listless body toward the women who remained. Her clothes were not returned.

Kelton broke from Yanda's arms, his eyes lined in red, and retrieved his blanket. Calling with hoarseness born of the strain, he got one of the women's attention and tossed her the blanket. They used it to cover the girl whose head was now cradled in the lap of another. Yanda stood and handed her blanket to Kelton. They would be cold in the coming nights, but it didn't matter. Life was over, and compassion was all they had left. Soon, it too would be gone. Kelton gave Yanda a weak smile and added her blanket to his.

"You feel too much," Yanda said. She had guessed what had happened. Some woman was going to be used, and Kelton had saved her by threatening the lives of his men. These men demanded their dominance. They wished to hurt Kelton, using his weaknesses against him. One for one, they couldn't face his blade, so they attacked his honor, seeking to shame him as they were humiliated. Blame him for their own deficiencies and vulgar desires.

The boy repeated those same two words. Yanda could see it was some kind of admission to her. As if he needed her to say something, anything that would take weight his shoulders. The problem was that the burden on hers was already too much. She sighed.

"We no longer control our fate," Yanda whispered to Kelton. "What we have seen here is just the beginning. I will honor my debt to you until we separate, which is near." She looked toward the unconscious girl. "I will do what I can to end myself before her fate becomes mine. If anything, you have given me that time."

Kelton whispered his two words again. Yanda rolled her eyes and slapped him. A warrior shouldn't wallow in weakness. He raised his hand to his cheek and smirked. An odd response to her admonishment, but then he was a strange boy. She guessed he liked his women strong. She smiled back at his wisdom.

Food was brought, although the other cells were neglected. It was some kind of meat with a layer of dried fruit atop. Yanda wasn't sure why they were being fed and the others not. It was also richer fare than expected for slaves.

Kelton seemed less surprised. He waited until the man who brought it left, then promptly placed it outside of the cell and used his foot to push it close to the women in the other cage. He spoke carefully to one who understood his words. She gathered the food with a nod and carried it to the defiled girl. The poor girl was fed first, then the rest shared. Yanda looked at her serving, then at the bucket that would ultimately receive the meal. She no longer had a blanket for privacy. Eating seemed foolish.

Yanda secured her wooden plate. She plucked a piece of fruit off the top, an apple she thought. Approaching Kelton, she bade him to open his mouth by demonstrating. After an initial refusal, he did as he was told and she placed the fruit on his tongue. She reluctantly ate a piece herself, then handed him the plate and signaled him to pass it on as well. The boy's weak smile fought with the horror of the ship.

"He blames self," one of the women told Yanda after retrieving the plate from between the bars. Her grasp of the Sorinnian language was weak but better than the captain's. She pointed at Kelton. "Captain make him choose one woman and he would not. He risks much. Says he will make Captain dead." She shook her head. "Not know why boy is not dead for saying."

"He saved me from the same fate," Yanda replied. "I am no fool, it is a delay only. He bargained for time and only directed it at another. How is the girl?"

"It bad," the woman said. "She survive and must live her shame. Better she die." Kelton said something to the woman. The woman sighed and translated. "Over and over, he sorry. Important you know." She shrugged her shoulders. "Not change anything. Men be men." The woman turned with the plate of food and sat with the others and shared the bounty. The brief translation would be the only thanks Yanda and Kelton would receive.

Yanda looked at Kelton, his eyes pleading that she understood his message. "It is not your fault, fool," Yanda said. Kelton looked desperately for the translator, though the woman had no intention of returning to the conversation. Yanda repeated her words with a softness to ease the boy's mind. She knew he heard it as forgiveness. Yanda decided he didn't need it. In time, if her body became some man's toy, she'd rethink his culpability.

When night came, the warmth fled. Without blankets, Kelton and Yanda used each other. He was reluctant at first but did so at her insistence. Yanda found it ridiculous to hide behind honor when warmth was needed. Fitful sleep was all they could obtain, flipping positions back-to-front throughout the night to warm the side that had gone cold. She preferred to be in his arms than he in hers. Strange. There was less control that way, but she slept a little better.