Story: To The Arms Of The Sea [Re-write] (all chapters)

Illiana woke up on the cold ground of the tavern’s storage room, hwe grimy work dress was covered in lyre amnd she was still sore from scrubbing the floors the night before. The owner had made her work harder than ever before, simply because she refused him. "Another day, another copper poorer" She said, rubbing her eyes. Unlike the rest of the world, she got more and more in dept, the harder she worked. She wouldn never pay off the landloard and would be stuck working for him for he rest of her sorry life. Her once long red hair had been cut short and choppy as a punishment, and her hands, arms, legs, and back were all badly scared from the whip. She looked in the broken glass of the windows and saw her reflection. To some she would have seemed pretty, with a heart shaped fac and soft eyes. Her will was worn out however, adn she seemed to radiate sadness.

Illiana opened the door and walked out into the tavern, she limped over to the bar, as her ankle was badly swollen, and most likely broken. She has been 'under foot' last knight cleaning ans the tavern owner had stommped on her to make her move. She now felt a shooting pain with each step. "Can I helps yeh sir?" She asked keeping her eyes down.

"Get me a pint of jacks best ale." He said in a gruff voice. She dropped down to her knes behind the bar and dug for the brand of ale thst he had asked for. When she brought him what her asked for the took her chin in his hands twisted her face around and looked her over. The he called to the owner, Jack "This one fer sale?"

Jack laughed, his huge frame shaking with the effort "Nah, but cha can ‘ave ‘er fer the night" He looked at Illiana again, a shaprt glare that could peirce to the soul. "Give ‘er to yeh cheap too. Four coppers" Illliana’s eyes got wide in her head when Jack said that. She gasped in outrage as the man took out the requested coppers and handed it to the tavern owner.

"I won’t" She said, then was shocked that she had had the nerve to speak other than one small incident when she as bought, she never spoke out of turn. She alwasy did as she was told. In essance, she kept her head down and her nose clean.

. The owner was livid, he walked over and took her by the neck, slamming her into he wall. He was only a few inches taller han her, but he outwieghted her and lack of food made her thin and easy to manipulate."Ye’ll do as I says er I swear I’ll make yer life ‘ell" He threatened

With ine last shake to prove his power Jack threw her at the man’s feet. Not that it isn’t that already She thought to herself as she obediently said, "Yes master" Illiana decided then and there, that no matter what, even if it cost her her life, she was getting out of here. That small glimmer of hope kept her silent and obedient. She worked harder than ever, and took her weekly meal before he came for her

That night the whole tavern was filled with his moans of pleasure mixed with the sounds of her screams.

She spent days this way, a new man every night, new cores every day. And only the slim hope of escape kept her alive. Finally after weeks of careful planning she had a chance to escape. The owner of the tavern left her scrubbing the kitchen floor to break up a brawl and she ran as fast as her legs could take her out of the tavern.

She didn’t stop running til she reached the dock and ran to a ship, th e<i>HMS DOLPHIN</i>, getting ready to lift it’s anchors and she grabbed a rope and began to climb. She was weak and frail from week s, no monthes without decent food or even sleep. SHe hurt all ver form the men she ws rented to. Many of whom enjoied makeing her scream.
 

“Oi!” Called the captain, “Gerrof there!” He was a portly man, with an air of athourity that comes to one who is used to haveing his orders followed without complaint or protest.
 

Illiana climbed over the rail and gasped, “please, let me stay..I work hard…and don’t ..complain” She looked pitiful with her chopped hair and torn sooty clothe. The fresh cuts on her back were still bleeding. She wouild beg if she had to, though she sorely hopes it wouldn't come to that. She was a sturdy loking gril, despite her slim frme and boneyness. With a few good meanl she would be a right good shipman.

The captain said nothing, only walked away and Illiana stood up and climbed into the rigging. She was a natural at sea and was ready to help as soon as she was needed. Which was right quick. She was set to swabbing and washin everything within a few moment. She made friends with the cabin boys and thre sailors, and even the captian within the day.

Life at sea suited her well and she was a natural with the crew, as the youngest and only daughter of an Irish lord, she knew a lot about hard work from her four brothers. Illiana was also learning how to fight from the first mate. She was good with a staff and better with a sword. She was legendary in the ship with a bow.

She spent a blessed three months at sea before she met a woman who would change her life forever…

Illiana swam as hard as she could. The fire behind her was getting hotter and she had to get back to land. She silently cried to herself, she had dropped the lantern into a crate of the captain whiskey. It was her fault the ship had caught fire.

’Oi, Illy! Bring me the lantern; I can’t see a damned thing!’ Jeremy called across the store room. ‘I need to get these new ropes up ‘afore the storm hits!’ Illiana ran across the room, and her own foolishness and lack of grace caused her to fall flat on her face, the lantern flying from her hands and crashing to the floor. ‘Shit! Illy, run!’ He screamed as the spilled oil caught fire and spread towards the crates of whisky. Illiana ran up the stares to deck ad screamed that the ship was on fire, and was knocked off her feet as the flames shot from the doors behind her. She looked at the fire and cried out into the night, ‘No, Jeremy, NO!’

That ship had been her only happiness in almost 3 years and she had lost it all on a stupid mistake. She collapsed onto the sand and climbed up into the street. She forced her feet to move, to get away from the hell she had left behind her; as she prayed thy had made it out. Before she knew where her feet had taken her she was back at the tavern.

She slowly pushed the door open, fear clear on her, now clear of bruises face. She managed to get back behind the bar and had her hand on the store room door, with every intention of hiding until day when she could get out, before she heard Jack bellow and his hands tightened in a bone crushing grip on her shoulder.

“You no good wench!” He called taking her and spinning her around with a hand on her throat and pinning her to the door. “Yeh think yeh can run from me and get away with it?” He slammed her into the door, “Do yeh?!” He flung her to the floor. His eyes were alight with fury and scorn, his very breath was full of as much hatred as his gaze.

“I’m sorry!” Illiana managed to choke before his think hands closed on her once again, this time he had her by her hair.

“I’s gonna show yeh sorry yeh dirty tramp!” He said dragging her into his room off the tavern, he bound her hands to the bedpost and pulled his whip from a drawer. With a growl he drew his muscled arm back “We’ll see iffen yer sorry now!” and brought the leather forward with a deafening crack.

Illiana screamed as the leather bit into her flesh again and again. This was far worse than any other punishment she had every received. And by the end of the night, any will to live, and any thought of freedom we’re gone from her mind.

►▼◄

Illiana sat in the back or the tavern, she was still scared from the beating the night she had returned and was hoping to avoid the notice of any of the customers. Sadly her luck didn’t hold and an old man who stank of stale whisky and tobacco walked to her side and picked her up by the waist, “Oi!” he called to Jack, “How much?”

The landlord glowered at her, he had yet to orgive her, and was like not to. “That little tramp? Yeh can ‘ave ‘er fer a shilin” He growled walking over to them, with a pleased expression ion his wrinkled face the old one gave him his money and took Illiana by the arm She wrenched her arm away from him with all her might, she wouldn’t let this happen again. She couldn’t.

Jack grabbed her as did the old man, and, though she made a valiant effort, kicking scratching and biting at the pair of men, weeks without food had left her weak and between the two of them they managed to control her. The owner slapped her across the face sending her head spinning as she tasted blood. Jack spit across the floor and asked the man if he wanted her still. “After all,” he mumbled, “We gots plany ‘o others”

“I likes ‘em feisty” the old man said, planting a kiss on Illliana’s lips while holding her face in his hands. With one last desperate attempt to get away Illiana planted her elbow firm in he mans gut with a grunt. He fell to the floor and Illiana spit and wiped her hand across her lips. jack moved to slap her when his hand was suddenly caught and twisted around in the grip of a distinctly female hand.

“Didn’t no one e’er teach yeh  tha yer not to lay a hand on a lady?” The woman who held him was tall with long, curly red hair and crystal green eyes. She had a distinctly Irish accent and a powerful air hung about her like some exotic perfume. She had a hold of the owner’s wrist and an angry expression. There was a slightly shorter woman next to her who looked just as mad, but had startlingly purple eyes.

“Get yer bloody ‘and off me!” Jack said twisting away. The woman just stood, glareing with a look that would send many a grown man running for the hills, hands on hip. Their clothes identified her and her partner as pirates, and the shorter one growled at the man, “An jest who do yeh think yer talkin to?”

“A couple o bloody pirates,” He said and took hold of Illiana, “Now leave ‘er to me and get out of me tavern.”

“And, though I’d like no’in be’er than the live this pigsty,” The Irish one said, spiting at his feet. “I’s not leaven withou’ ‘er”

When the landlord refused she simply drew her sword. “I’s en excellent swordsman, now, release ‘er er I swear on me life, I will slit you form navel” She pointed the sword towards his stomach, “To nose” and then flicked it to his nose. The keen blade left a thin line of blood.

“Fine,” He said his voice shook with obvious fear of the woman, “Take ‘er and get out! I don’t need that ugly tramp anyhow!”

The Irish woman took Illiana by the arm and the purple eyed woman spit on Jack and turned on heel away. Without a backward glance, Illiana was lead away, putting an end to the life in the tavern where she had spent so many years in hell, to a life of freedom that had only just begun