Kelton's arm was asleep to the point of soreness. Yanda had maneuvered lower in his arms and was using it for a pillow. He could feel her drool trickling down the inside of his elbow. He moved carefully, shifting his arm, so a different portion was taking the brunt of the weight. Yanda moaned and pulled it back, her rear pushing deeper into him. Her body was looking for warmth and comfort, something the ship's hold didn't provide.

Time had lost its meaning. Only a dull glow or the sounds of shipboard activity would differentiate night from day. It had been four days since their surrender and sleep remained fitful. It added to the despondency that burrowed inside of them, not unlike the moist cold that permeated the hold.

At least the crew hadn't returned for another woman. Kelton hoped their lusts had been sated, though he couldn't understand how the act could be pleasurable if undesired by the other. It had seemed more of a foul bonding ritual between the crew. They had congratulated each other with each beaming as if taking a tied up woman was some difficult challenge. In truth, he had felt it was done to punish him, though that was selfish knowing the poor girl suffered far more. His legacy of causing pain now fell to those who had never seen him before. Then he remembered the poor boy who had been garroted to the pole. No, they didn't even need to know he existed.

Kelton decided he preferred his arm not to fall off. He shifted, pulling her head off his arm and placing it on his chest. Not waking, she rolled to her front and lay her chest upon his and snuggled in by wrapping her arms about him. He covered her back with his arms to try and preserve the warmth that had gathered there.

Closing his eyes, memories of Juno brought out a smile. He tried to remember when he first thought of her as something more than a nurse. Not when he finally admitted it to himself, but when it truly happened. He was sure it began when she declared the need for his warmth. Her arms held much more than heat when they were wrapped about him. There was little he wouldn't give to be there again. The world wouldn't allow it. He brushed those thoughts away knowing that it would be her death to be around him. Then he smiled again. That kiss wouldn't let the memory die.

Yanda startled awake. She quickly sat up and wiped a line of spittle from the corner of her mouth. A few soft words flowed from her lips before her eyes trailed away from Kelton. He was sure it was an apology, though it made little sense. Maybe she was worried about using him as a pillow. He had done the same, and one couldn't be responsible for movements in their sleep.

One of the women in the other cell, the one who knew Yanda's words laughed. Kelton stood as Yanda and the woman exchanged a few words. The woman saw humor and Yanda saw none. The argument was brief and held no overt anger, only disagreement. Anger had little value to the condemned.

"I told her to have you," the woman said to Kelton. She was older, her face wrinkled to leather by time. The humor in her eyes was a waste.

"It is neither of our desires," Kelton said. "We need warmth, that is all." The woman laughed and pointed where Kelton's legs joined. His face went white when he realized where his thoughts of Juno had led his body. It wasn't his doing. It wasn't his fault. He sat quickly, hiding the evidence as best he could.

"I told her it was the last time she'd have a choice in the mater," the woman continued with a chuckle. No wonder Yanda had leaped off of him. She probably thought he would go insane like the crew.

"It wasn't her doing," Kelton struggled to explain. "Tell her it just happened. It is not something I can stop. I meant nothing by it." The woman's smile disappeared, and she tilted her head as if she didn't understand.

"It is part of manhood. My words were just in jest," the woman said with a softness that was out of place in the cells.

"You will tell her?" Kelton begged. The last thing he wanted was Yanda to think of him as someone who would ravish her.

"She knows,' the woman said. "She thought it her fault. I think she is as unskilled as you in these things." Kelton looked at Yanda, her face a few shades lighter than usual. Something he thought impossible for one black of skin.

"Tell her it's not her fault," Kelton said.

"It is best if you leave it be," the woman said, her smile returning. "My Sorrina is poor. If worded badly she might think you don't find her worthy of your dreams."

"But, I wasn't..."

"Best to leave it awkward. Sometimes understanding does more harm than good. It is a small prison." The woman looked toward Yanda and said something that was apparently more complex than anything Kelton wanted to say.

"What did you tell her?"

"I said that you were sorry, but holding a beautiful woman in your arms makes things happen you have little control over. You will try harder to keep your mind away from such things." Kelton felt blood rush to his face. Yanda said something, her face struggling to keep from smiling.

"She says she forgives you and will try not to be so womanly." The woman didn't even try to hide her smile. Kelton was about to argue the finer points of blame when Yanda let her smile loose. Truth, lies, what did it matter? He was sure her smile was a mixture of both, offered at his expense as well as reward. At least it wasn't the misery the place fostered. He shrugged and smiled back. It earned him a kiss on his forehead, something he suspected made her feel motherly, or at least in charge.

Food arrived with the dull glow of a new day. Kelton and Yanda were given flatbread with a thick layer of some kind of bean spread. A clay jar of water and two mugs were also provided. The two other cells were given two buckets each, one filled with a thin soup mush and another filled with water. The captain was true to his word. As best as Kelton could tell, he and Yanda were fed as the captain was. At night, a taste of wine was included.

Yanda had taken over the disbursement of the food. She would first feed a portion to Kelton, no more than a bite or two, then duplicate it herself. After which, the fare was passed to the women's cell. It was only a day before one of the plates found its way to the men. Everyone taking a bite of the rich food before slurping down mush. It was a small luxury.

"It is true." The Captain surprised Kelton. He had crept in, and it had been days since he had visited last. "I thought you would have learned by now. You will likely never see these others again, and yet you give them your food. Twice, you prove yourself a fool."

Kelton glared at the man. Responding was a waste and what he wished to say would likely trouble others instead of himself. There had been no repeat of what happened to the girl, and he preferred to keep it that way.

"Come now, our bargain is nearly at the end. We will make dock today, and you'll be unloaded on the morrow. It is the last time we will have words."

"I do not wish you to harm another. I'll remain silent."

"Ah, you think our fun was because of you. Tsk, tsk." The Captain shook his finger. Kelton thought him wise for remaining out of arm's reach.

"It would have happened with or without you. The death of shipmates needs to be countered, and the crew must be kept happy. You must see that, don't you?"

"The deaths were your doing," Kelton said. He struggled to keep his voice level.

"Alas, you are correct, but it is easier to blame it on you. It was your sword and her bow. The crew sees it that way and ignores my decision to run your ship down. They are not the smartest lot and easily diverted." The Captain shrugged his shoulders. "They are well suited to the task at hand."

"So why ask me to choose? Why shame the woman in front of all? Are you well suited and easily diverted as well?"

The Captain laughed at Kelton. It took him a moment to settle down before he spoke. "In that you are correct, I am well suited." His lips straightened. "You made me look a fool and shamed my son. I bargained away retribution, so I took what I could. You feel too much and made it easy. Next time, bargain better."

"If there is a next time, there will be no bargain," Kelton promised.

"You will be sold to the mines, boy," the Captain said. "That much I will see too. It is a hard and short life. Shorter still if you fight it. No, there will be no next time." Kelton had no idea what or where the mines were, but the concept was clear enough.

"The bargain ends the moment I am sold," Kelton said. He meant it to sound like a threat, though he questioned its vitality.

"Aye," the Captain agreed, nodding. "And that's when you find the folly in your vow. The laws of the Masocrates are clear, and they don't tolerate violations, at least, not from slaves. You will find your will bent to their profit." He pointed at Yanda. "You should seek a night's joy from that one. It will be your last, and our bargain doesn't forego you taking it."

Kelton looked at Yanda. Her face was a mask of angry curiosity. Hatred of the Captain was clearly evident, but so was the need to know the gist of the conversation. Kelton nodded to her, a clear sign they were one in their disgust for the man.

"Nay, I will not be the one to ruin her." Kelton looked back at the Captain. "There would be no joy in it, only more of the misery your kind spread."

"So be it." The Captain shrugged. "She will be on her back soon enough, probably cursing your name as she services anyone with coin. Only a fool would pass on a free ride."

"Only a fool takes what is not offered," Kelton responded. His voice was soft, almost a whisper. He had stopped nothing and time was running out. There was only one thing he could do, the same thing he had been doing since he had saved Rebecca. His back straightened. "I will not add to the suffering. I will not!"

"You are wrong in the head," the Captain said, shaking his head. He turned and walked away. "Wrong in the head to be sure."

The old woman exchanged words with Yanda, translating the conversation Kelton suspected. He wished he had used stronger language, though it would have been useless. Maybe slavery was the best place for him. Someone to tell him what to do, when to sleep, when to breathe. There would be no responsibility, no pain with him as the reason. The world would move on and be better for it. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the bars. It might be best if he just floated along with the tide.

Tender black arms encircled Kelton's waist. Yanda spoke to him, her words malleable and soft.

"She says you are no fool and she calls you friend," the old woman translated. Yanda added some more, and the woman continued. "Always a friend no matter what is next."

Kelton turned in Yanda's arms. She released him and pulled his head down, giving his forehead another kiss. A ritual she seemed to value highly. Kelton forced a smile and nodded in agreement. At least she wasn't going to hold him to blame. It made it easier for Kelton to struggle with the impossible task of forgiving himself.