The Princess and The Pirate

It was well after dark by the time everyone left The Silver Ogre’s Revenge. Kyle was walking weakly with the aid of a cane, and fueled more by pride than actual muscle. The Somali was on his left and Donavan was to the Captain’s right. No one spoke as they cut through the busy, party-filled streets of Paradiso.

Behind the three men was a rope. One end was in Kyle’s fist, the other disappeared into the shadow of a hood. Princess Jacqueline had a noose tightly around her neck, controlled by the Captain. The prisoner’s cloak she wore reeked of death and bodily fluids but its frayed ends flapped around her naked ankles, giving her some cover.

Weary bystanders immune to the ways of pirates and even their presence looked on to the unfortunate soul dressed in burlap.

Their destination was a great red gem on the clay city streets. A large, grand house, three stories tall, had rich red drapes in its windows. A glowing red lantern swung from its heavy wooden sign.

Lady Absinth’s Evening House

Abhorred, Jacqueline couldn’t keep her opinion in. “We’re going to a whorehouse?!” she shouted rather loudly. Did these men have no other appetites?! Captain Chatillon could barely shuffle forward! He may possibly drop dead at any given moment! This is what the doctor ordered?!

The noose restricted tightly at her outburst. The Princess gasped as the rough rope dug into her soft, unflawed neck. “Shut your face.” Kyle wheezed. Tired and fed up, moving made him feel violently ill; the Princess’s voice, amplified it.

Pulling at the noose, the Princess eased the tension off her neck, pouting at being punished.

The group walked up the short patio and Donavan gave a soft rap on the door’s frame. The entryway swung open and a sultry young blond stood there, half-dressed, slutty in all the right ways. Her hair was large, bouncing curls draped over her bare milky shoulders while her large, heavily made-up eyes looked Donavan’s gored form up and down, confused.

“This ain’t a hospital, gents,” she curtly replied, unladylike.

“Funny, I thought you were the most whored up nurse I ever saw,” Donavan said with a click of his teeth.

The Somali laughed deeply.

“We’re here for Madame Erica, Lady Absinth,” Kyle interjected, putting as much energy as he could into a glare. “We’re in need of her talents.”

“Ain’t everyone, nowadays?” the blond replied, smacking her lips in annoyance. Opening the door further to reveal the house’s parlor, Jacqueline had never seen so many poorly dressed young ladies making bad decisions! These girls had to be her peers or even younger!

“M’lady, your jaw is hanging. It’s very impolite,” The Somali gave her chin a small tap and the Princess quickly chomped it closed. He came up the rear, closing the brothel’s door behind them.

The hoard of salacious women didn’t bat an eyelash at the three rugged men dragging in a cloaked stranger. So many people were into such unique things; surely that wouldn’t be the weirdest thing they saw tonight.

The blond tart guided them through the lavish house. Everything was donned in rich red and purple fabrics. The lighting was soft, romantic, and inviting. The walls were covered in light pink and white paper, while the air of the house smelled both fragrant and spicy. In Jacqueline’s opinion, it was a lovely establishment aside from the occasional banging, moaning, and screams of pleasure. All the erotic sounds made the modest girl blush brightly.

They went up the stairs and the blond rapped on a thick door.

“Madame!” she called out loudly, “Madame, guest for you.”

Beyond the door a voice replied, “I’m not seeing guests! I’m a right fine engaged woman!”

The blond rolled her big blue eyes. “Not those kind. The salty kind.”

The door swung open and standing in the frame was a voluptuous brunette clad in rich ruby red. She was decently covered and her makeup was modest, though she didn’t need it, as her beauty surpassed what any products could do. Her thick black lashes fluttered at the men and her eyes lit up upon seen Kyle’s weary, pale face.

“Kyle Chatillon, is that you under all that death?” she asked, holding out her hand to him. A large, brilliant diamond sat on her wedding finger.

Kyle smiled, taking her hand and moving his legs in time with the cane. “It is. Lady Absinth, Erica, you haven’t changed a bit. I’m in need of an antidote, quickly.”

Jacqueline followed after the Captain, compelled by the rope. The Somali and the first mate followed suit.

“Well, I have changed!” she said with an excited blush, seemingly to bypass over the fact he needed medical attention, “Engaged to a good man, a bookkeeper of all things. His name is Benjamin and he is to die for!” With the grace of a bride-to-be, she guided Kyle to a luxurious couch where he promptly collapsed upon it, exhausted.

The Madame then noticed the sad hooded figure leashed to the Captain. “What have we here?” she mused, and with her fine nails, she flicked back the hood, looking at a very rundown and ratty princess.

“Help me,” Jacqueline squeaked, covered in filth.

She looked at Kyle, at his men, then back to the Princess with a sweet smile. It was a smile of both pity and warmth. “Oh, I can’t help you, but I can make life a bit more bearable, poppet,” Erica said, tapping the Princess’s dirty noise and walking away. Over on a shelf was a small bell. The Madame ran it sharply, once.

Three women were summoned to the door, each more undressed than the next.

“Take this girl to get cleaned,” Erica said, flicking the bell at Jacqueline.

The Princess’s eyes were wide with both excitement and horror. She was going to be cleaned! But to be cleaned… by whores! Jacqueline didn’t know quite how to identify her confusion but she looked at Kyle, wilting.

“No,” he called out with his arms over his eyes.

Erica pouted. “Nonsense! My women are brawlers at heart; your ransom won’t suddenly float away.”

“Besides, she’s starting to smell,” chimed in Donavan.

Jacqueline shot him a mean, dirty glance through her oily, stringy hair. She then looked to the mistress of this establishment. “Please! Don’t condone this!”

With a tired smile, she motioned her workers to the Princess. “It isn’t personal, poppet, just business.”

Without a trace of emotion on their faces, the three woman touched Jacqueline’s hair and the hem of her clothes.

“We’ll take good care of her, mistress.”

“Yes, we’ll clean the lass thoroughly.”

“She’ll be better than new.”

The captain was, by far, in no mood to squabble. “Somali, escort the Princess to the baths, and I don’t want to hear another word of it!” he shouted but then groaned.

Whimpering, Jacqueline was grabbed by the whorish women and dragged from the room amidst their snickering and giggling. The Somali laughed at the dreadful expression the Princess had on her dirty face.

The small gaggle marched and laughed down the hall. Some of the women’s wandering fingers tickled Jacqueline’s soft exposed skin, making her jump. A rich redwood door opened and a porcelain tub sat there already filled with steaming water.

“Rosy was going to take a bath,” said the brunette, nodding her fine head towards a woman with black hair, “but the mistress said you needed it more.”

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Rosy sharply replied, judging the Princess with a quick assessment.

“You, big boy,” the third woman, a blond, said to the Somali. She put her tiny hand on his broad chest, “Gotta stay outside and let us ladies work.”

He smiled, giving a soft chuckle. For a grungy pirate, he sure did laugh a lot. “Not a problem, miss.”

The blond gave him a wink, blew him a kiss, and shut the door in his face loudly.

In return, he leaned his back against it, keeping watch but also keeping one ear listening to the grunting and complaining within.

“S-Stop!” Jacqueline shouted while her arms were pulled forward. Another set of hands crawled up her nightgown, simultaneously stripping both the shorts and panties down to her ankles. “I can do it myself!” she exclaimed with a bright blush in her cheeks.

The black-haired strumpet, Rosy, laughed while removing the Princess’s undergarments free, but placed a soft, hot kiss on Jacqueline’s thigh. “Where would be the whole experience, then?” She then signaled to the brunette who then held their charge’s arms up and Rosy put another warm kiss on her neck, then grabbed the hem of the modest cloth Jacqueline wore, pulling it upwards.

The Princess let out a shriek, now naked and covered in kisses!

“Quit your misery. It isn’t something we haven’t seen,” the blond called out as she walked to the tub, pouring in salts and sweet-smelling oils. “We’re going to make you right fine for that handsome captain.”

Jacqueline shivered, trying to cover her exposed breasts. “What? I don’t care how I look for him.” She gave off a loud huff at the very notion.

Rosy, throwing the cloak, nightgown, and knickers into a pile by the tub, smiled. “Hear that girls? Then he’s up for grabs!”

Not replying, Jacqueline only tilted her brow inward. Why did the statement bother her? She just chalked it up to stress and current embarrassment. “Is this sideshow over?”

“She’s a bitch, isn’t she?” said the brunette, testing the water.

Keeping her well-practiced, sultry smile, Rosy motioned to the water. “After you, M’lady,” and Rosy gave a dramatic, sarcastic bow.

Outside the room, the Somali was grinning. A door opened quietly down the hall and a radiant woman, skin a sweet mocha color, rich raven hair, and great plump hips came into the hall. She batted her lashes at the strong man. Placing a small moneybag on her belt loop, she walked in the Somali’s direction.

“You’re part of the Ogre’s crew, eh?” she asked with voluptuous pink lips. Putting her hand on his shoulder, she dragged her fingernail across his collarbone.

“I am, my good lady,” he replied, rubbing the side of his sharp chin against her finger.

“You’re practically a hero to this establishment,” the woman said with a kind smile. Her hand came to his and held it. “Let me show you my utmost gratitude.”

He let her lead him away from the door. What was the harm? It wouldn’t be more than a minute. Besides, he had been stuck on a ship for nearly a month.

“OH GOD, STO-!” Jacqueline was cut off as her head was forcefully dunked under the water, again.

“Shit! She is filthy!” Rosy cried, seeing the water turn brown at all the grime.

“Her feet are BLACK!” The blonde called out. The Princess’s legs were out of the tub, hanging over the fine rim. She was digging a pumice stone into the heel and soft meat of the Princess’s foot, trying to exfoliate the skin.

Jacqueline couldn’t handle the tickling, so she kicked often.

“I can’t work with any of her nails. She’s bitten them to the cuticle!” lamented the brunette, trying to give the poor woman a manicure.

The bubbles were decreasing in number, so Rosy pulled Jacqueline’s head out of the water. She gasped, panting, nearly drowned.

“No more!” she begged, looking up at the black-haired prostitute through cracks of her own wet red hair.

“Oh, I still see some stubborn grease!” And with that, Rosy pushed Jacqueline’s head back underwater to much protest.

Across Lady Absinth’s brothel, Erica was laying leeches on Kyle’s wounded hand, chest, and shoulder. “The entry point has hardened, the pore is ruined. The sickness and the aching fatigue are the trademarks of poison from an urchin. If so, there’s no cure other than letting it do its thing.”

“An urchin?” Donavan asked, while idly looking at the book collection. The mistress had a collection of works along with fine vases, sculptures, and other art. She was much more complicated than a simple Madame. “Odd poison for rescuing…” He meandered over to Kyle’s things - his sword, his holster, but mostly his pistol.

“Rescuing?” She laughed, putting another leech on Kyle’s neck. “No, no. This is a hindering poison, obviously. I don’t know any use of a toxin that is used to…save…anyone. You said this was delivered by a fine, sharp needle? That doesn’t sound like help. That sounds like harm to me. Assassin types and the lot use such weapons - sleek, fast, undetectable. Heroes don’t need subtlety.”

Kyle lifted his arm, looking at Erica’s calm, focused face. “Assassins?” Harm, not help? Who else could dispatch such people? And directly to his ship? The realization crashed upon him, like waves on beach. Royalty. Wonderful… He was right in the middle of something much bigger than himself.

“What’s the damage?” Donavan asked quietly while slowly sliding the pistol from its holster.

“Some bed rest, leeches, some bleeding, some ripe ointments, and perhaps a few gallons of ale are what the doctor calls for. It wasn’t enough to really kill you,” she replied, looking at the ten leeches Kyle was already sporting atop his bare chest. “You’ll live to swashbuckle another day, my friend.”

Suddenly, she was ripped away from Kyle’s side. Donavan’s thick arm had wrapped around Erica’s throat, securing her in a strong headlock. Pulling the hammer back on the pistol, the first mate pressed the gun’s barrel against the Madame’s temple.

“DONAVAN!” Kyle shouted, woozy from the leeches and the poison. He struggled to sit up and whatever blood he had left rushed to his head.

Erica struggled, but the threat of a pellet to the brain hindered her excitement.

“You’re an incompetent captain. Give me control of The Silver Ogre’s Revenge!” Donavan shouted, tightening his hold on Kyle’s ally.

“You’re rebelling?! A one-man mutiny?!” The captain shouted, struggling to find his footing on solid ground. The leeches slid across his body, digging their tiny teeth into his flesh.

“The men are on my side, you have no ship to return to. You should listen to me like your father should have,” Donavan said darkly, pulling Erica tighter against him.

“It’s always been about him, hasn’t it?” Kyle replied weakly, leaning on the arm of the luscious couch.

Back in the dressing room, Jacqueline was sitting in a tight green dress borrowed from the brunette. All the dirt was gone from her skin and she smelled of a light, flowery perfume. Right now, however, the torture continued as the Princess was having her hair forcefully brushed. Numerous tangles were being removed. Nearly in tears, she yelped out at the brutality.

“Stop complaining! Christ!” Rosy snapped, fighting with a particularly large rat’s nest.

“If you cry, your makeup will smear,” the blonde sassily yelled, struggling to apply blush to the Princess’s tense face. “Then you’ll really look like a tramp.”

With many sniffles, Jacqueline tried to sit still, not wishing to make this anymore horrible by ruining her mascara.

A creak came from the floor just before the door to the room.

“Don’t you come in, you naughty boy!” called the brunette playfully, who was emptying the water from the tub, but the door handle turned anyways.

“What did I sa-” As the door opened, the brunette gasped, falling backwards into the empty tub. A silver dagger was sticking squarely out from the center of her chest.

Two cloaked figures quickly stormed the room, their surprise given away.

“HEY!” Rosy called out, deflecting a needle from hitting the Princess with the large glossy back of the great brush. It was pure luck. “GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Jacqueline stood up. Help had finally arrived! Her face was alight with joy. Yes! Kill all the whores! But, when she turned to accept her saviors, Jacqueline’s face turned to confusion. Wholeheartedly, she had hoped for the royal guard elite, not monks. But it didn’t matter. It was time to go home!

Rosy flung the very stool the Princess had been sitting on at the taller figure. The chair splintered against the father’s shoulder and he wordlessly tossed the debris away from him. With a great swoop of his arm the black-haired woman had a needle imbedded in the center of her head. She fell backward, convulsing painfully on the ground with screams and gargling sounds.

Stepping around the poor woman, Jacqueline was nearly prancing to her death. “Valiant heroes! You’ve tracked me from the very ocean to another city! Your efforts will be handsomely rewarded!”

“We’ve no doubt of that.” Just as Novice raised her thin weapons, a lumbering shout interrupted the assassin’s throw. The Somali, half dressed, thundered in sword first. His face was tight in a barbarian scream and he plunged the jagged blade deep into the side of the apprentice.

With a screech, Jacqueline covered her mouth. Her rescue! No! She froze in place, mortified.

“RUN!” The Somali roared, twisting his weapon deeper into the tiny woman. “PRINCESS, RUN!” That prostitute, that succubus, had been a lure. He had stupidly fallen for her sweet lips and many talents.

Both horrified and confused, Jacqueline looked to the open door and took a hesitant step towards it. Why was she listening to him? Looking into the man’s jaundiced yellow eyes, she saw that his glare seemed so sincere, so very worried. It was a type of worry not for his personal gain, but for her personal wellbeing.

Father Cordinae swiftly turned, giving a vengeful shout from the shadow of his hood and imbedded the large navigator with seven purple coated needles. His body slouched forward on top the bleeding student, the venom almost instantaneously lethal.

“GET OFF OF HER!” the father shouted, viciously using both his hand and a dagger to skewer the thick back of the Somali. He tumbled to the side, dead, and Novice lay on the lush rug, blood pouring out from her wound.

Breathing hard, his chest rising and falling sharply, he looked up to Jacqueline’s spot. She was gone, the scurry of light footsteps echoing down the evening house’s hallway. The Princess was running away, escaping her demise. He brought his hard, cold eyes to look down to the wheezing, shuddering body of the one thing he cared about in the entire world.

Father Cordinae kneeled down to Novice’s small body, placing his old hand atop her back.

“A-Am I…going to die?” she muttered, feeling coldness creep up her toes. The icy feeling rushed up her legs and suddenly clutched her chest ruthlessly. With a quiet gasp, Novice’s lips trembled, knowing she’d speak no more.

“Yes, but where you are going is much better than this wicked world. My daughter, I promise we will meet again,” he said with a shaky sigh, watching his own flesh and blood pass away on the floor of a filthy, disgraceful brothel.

She was his sin, his moment of weakness incarnate, but he loved her. God had given him a perfect daughter in spite of his unworthiness. Father Cordinae gave his child a final prayer then took her body into his arms, accepting her just as she was. He’d deal with his task later. This needed immediate attention. He had to prepare dear Novice for the Kingdom of God.

Jacqueline ran down the hall with a long stride. Huffing, breathing in through her mouth roughly, her foot caught on the hem of her borrowed whore dress. With a tumble she smacked straight down into the rich red runner. With an OOPHF! the Princess rolled onto her side holding her nose. Feet from her face, voices floated from the open doorway just in front of her.

“You really think you’re going to simply take control of my ship?” said Kyle from within the room. “What makes you think I won’t murder you in cold blood once I’m able?”

Erica let out a frustrated grunt, pulling against Donavan’s arm.

“Because you’re merely playing pirate. You’re more of a boyish gang leader than a mighty captain who dictates men. No more!” Donavan said with a sneer, finally taking what was his, “You’re just like your father. He never listened to me, either!”

“Obviously he had a head on his should-GIC!” Erica added to the conversation as Donavan tightened his forearm against her throat.

“Had he, he wouldn’t have been there on the seas that day,” Donavan added, pressing the gun barrel against the Madame’s head, “but that’s neither here nor there now!”

Kyle’s posture softened, as if he looked less worried. “I really, really think all your bad karma is going to hit you tenfold, first mate.”

“What are you b-” Confused, Donavan let out a scoffing scowl. The next thing he knew, there was a great crash upon his head. Jacqueline stood behind him, the shattered base of a fine vase in her hands. He let go of Erica and fell forward onto his knees, clutching the pistol in his fist. He saw colors and stars, heard the crashing of waves, and had the taste of blood in his mouth.

Erica knocked the gun, as well as a few teeth, away from Donavan with a hard, swift kick.

“You two better get,” she suggested calmly, grabbing the pistol from the floor of her office.

“Where is the Somali?” Kyle said, trying to readjust his tired brain to the situation. Looking at Jacqueline with her panicked expression and fast breaths, he noticed her face was flushed with light pink. Her hair was combed and had a natural curl to it. The Princess’s dress hugged her developed curves and its low neckline made the girl’s chest blossom. Right now, she looked like a lady of the night and for the first time during his entire ordeal, he found her attractive.

Holding her breath, Jacqueline slid her eyes to Kyle. He was shirtless and covered in swollen leeches but his bare-chested disposition made her blush. “I’ve…never done that before. The Somali? He’s dead, killed by two hooded soldiers.”

Erica caught it before the rest of them. “Assassins, here?!” she snapped, almost frightened. With short footsteps, as her dress was tight, she ran to her desk, grabbing a small jar. “You two have to leave! They will come back!”

“What? Where will we go! What do you mean ‘assassins?!’” Jacqueline said, letting her lips part with a hesitant breath. No, they were here to help her, right? Save her, right? Deliver her safely, right?

Right?

Kyle watched truth break over Jacqueline’s pale face. Even her freckles seemed whiter. He could imagine the realization seizing up her heart and freezing her blood. She was more valuable to her parents dead than alive and Kyle saw the Princess shiver. Following, her lip quivered, as if she were suppressing a meltdown, trying to not unravel before these tough, hardened criminals. At that moment, the Captain saw her realization, that help was not coming and he got to witness the girl’s heart break right on the spot.

Erica threw the tiny jar at Kyle. “It’s the ointment you need for your recovery, but the leeches should be helping. You two need to leave before you burn everything to the ground.”

Catching the vial, he nodded. It was all business, he understood, taking no offense to ousting the cursed, marked pair. Grabbing his coat, belt, and sword, the Captain left the leeches on his chest. Walking with more strength he took his hat from the end of the couch and looked to Jacqueline. He stepped on Donavan’s back, smearing the mud and shit on the bottom of his boot onto his ex-first mate’s shirt. “Princess, come with me. You will live longer if you do.”

The fractured girl looked to him, the slightest moisture of tears in her eyes.

“I’m not going to make you…”

Erica chimed in. “I am, though. She can’t stay.”

Sighing, Kyle rolled his eyes, “…But you will live longer if you’re with me.”

Jacqueline gave him a soft blink and simply nodded. For whatever reason, she saw the dead pirates and whores as victims now. The Princess was filled with pity as she was expected to join the body count. There was quite a lot of blood on her hands and she was ashamed of her own ignorance.

They didn’t have a plan but they couldn’t linger. The captain grabbed the Princess by the wrist and barreled out of Lady Absinth’s brothel. There was no ship waiting for them, there was nothing waiting for them. Plan B was to disappear in Paradiso’s joyful crowds.