Private Tales Nobody's on Nobody's Side

[Xaviera]

Xaviera had lost track of time in captivity. The woman who didn't know she was no longer Queen of Tyria had kept some semblance of time by the regular visits of the pirate captain that had abducted her after sinking a small flotilla of Tyrian ships. He usually brought her word from the city that they had scraped up enough gold to ensure her continued well-being but, tragically, never quite enough to pay her ransom. The leader of the brigand group had not come for many days now, and deliveries of food and wine were beginning to become irregular, too.

The Tyrian Queen frowned as she paced the room. Good behavior had ensured the removal of the chains that had bound her to the wall by her bed, and now she had the run of the room. It wasn't large -- maybe fifteen paces from one end to another -- but it had a bed with a blanket and rug for warmth, a desk with stationary and a charcoal pencil for writing, and a stack of books that she was allowed to read from. Not suited to Xaviera, First of her Name, Queen of Tyria, but she was certain it was better than anything any other prisoner was entitled to, she was sure.

There was a knock at the door. "Majesty," asked the voice of one of her regular guards. "Ya decent?"

"I am," said Xaviera coolly. "What is it, Master Furez?"

A key rattled in the lock and then the door opened. Furez and his usual sidekick Baalo entered with a set of irons. "Need ya t' come wiv us, Majesty." He held out the irons hopefully.

This was new; since her capture and being brought to the pirate stronghold on one of the craggy islands that dotted Black Bay, she hadn't moved from this room. They brought food, and once or twice a week, a barrel sawed in half that functioned as a bathtub, and occasionally replaced the books with new materials, but never moved. Xaviera tried to look regal; not terribly easy when she had been stripped of all her finery and wore worn but clean trousers and a non-descript tunic, both secured in place by a simple sash belt -- all varying shades of brown. Her silks and jewels had been confiscated, of course. Bloody pirates. "Where?" she asked.

Baalo, who was thin and short, looked at Furez, who was rotund and quite tall. Furez was the 'nice' one. He stood in front of the door when the half-barrel was brought so that none of the men could catch a glimpse of a Queen in the bath. He didn't even look himself.

But he was still a pirate.

"Captain needs ya, dunne, Majesty?"

"Should we tell her?" Baalo whispered. Xaviera didn't make out as if she'd heard.

Furez grimaced and muttered back: "Dun be stupid, Baalo." Then, louder, to Xaviera. "If you'll give us yer arms, Majesty."

"And if I won't?" asked Xaviera stonily. There was something happening here that she didn't like. Her gaze traveled from the fat one to the short one, who was now blushing and licking his lips.

"Easy, Baalo," said Furez, holding up a hand as if instructing a dog to wait before devouring its meat. "I gotta take ya one way or anover, Majesty. Prefer to do it the easy way. Hate to see you get hurt. Baalo here -- well he ain't real polite when people don't do as they're told, ya know?" Xaviera proceeded forward and held out her hands. Baalo grimaced. Furez's large hands gently pushed her sleeves up and clasped the irons around one delicate wrist, then the other. A third went around her slender neck. All three were connected to a lead of some extraction. "Thank you, Majesty. Come along."

"Now will you tell me where we're going?" Xaviera asked, hoping her cooperation had earned her some good will.

"Captain has need of ya," he replied simply. "Guess the money's dried up and he needs yer help to convince them to keep the gold coming."

Now it was Xaviera's turn to grimace. She was afraid that the captain was not going to find her terribly cooperative. But it was too late to turn back now.

 

[Blackburn Fane]

Blackburn Fane was halfway through his tankard when his ears caught something.

Aimless boasting powered by a loose intoxicated tongue.

It didn't take long to catch the outlines of the plan. A captured Queen, imprisoned and kept as a hostage against a country willing to pay out gold coin after gold coin. It was rather strange to him why a nation wouldn't buy their Queen's freedom and instead would drip-meal pay for her safety.

As if somebody wanted her safe but gone?

This sort of political shittery was beyond Fane. What wasn't beyond Fane was the concept of a prize. If he could spring this Queen? She'd most likely reward him richly. Besides, looking at these pirates?

Well, they didn't look all that tough to Fane.

---

He had to swim to the craggy pirate stronghold. Contrary to their appearance, they were quite careful and kept watch for stowaways with a close eye.

By the end of it Blackburn Fane was exhausted. He earned quite a few nicks from the rockwall covering one part of the island, but managed to get on safe, delicious ground eventually. Thankfully his knives and other supplies were intact and not washed away in the quick stream.

Otherwise this would have been an awkward rescue mission.

---

As the Queen was led to the Captain Blackburn infiltrated the stronghold.

Quietlike.

This wasn't his usual routine. He preferred to smash in from the front and bold. The only thing preventing him from that course was the fact the Queen had to be alive, if he was to receive his reward. If they ended up killing her out of alarm?

This entire thing would be for nothing.

Fane most fucking certainly wasn't swimming AGAIN and emptyhanded.

 

[Xaviera]

"Your Majesty," the Captain greeted Xaviera with a mockingly flourishing bow, a sly smirk adorning his face as he straightened. This wasn't the Captain's Quarters, to be sure; this looked like some kind of dungeon. No finery, not even any furniture except a wooden table next to a domed fireplace that looked like almost like a blacksmith's forge. Some kind of wood-handled tool stuck out of it, casting a dancing shadow. "Come, come. Thank you, Master Furez, Master Baalo."

The two pirates pulled her further towards the table, stopping in front of it, opposite to the Captain. "Captain," said the Queen. "What news from Tyria."

He hesitated, then offered a humorless chuckle. "Well -- that's the thing, isn't it? We haven't heard from Tyria for awhile and my spies tell me they are not convinced that their Queen is still alive. So -- "

"You want me to sign a letter?"

The Captain's face screwed up in mild amusement. "I'm afraid that won't be enough. I was thinking something more... direct." He reached into his pocket and then flipped something in the air like a coin. Xaviera squinted; not a coin, no, it was the shiny gold of her royal signet ring flashing up into the air, tumbling down into his palm. They had confiscated it from her when they had abducted her. "Would you mind?"

He held out a hand. Xaviera, studied him cautiously, not sure what he was asking. He made a grabbing gesture and Baalo shoved her forward, yanking her hand forward.

"I think it was the right hand, wasn't it?" asked the Captain to no one in particular. Before she could answer, Baalo dropped her left hand, pulled her right one up and put it in the Captain's grasp. The pirate Captain took her hand and carefully slid the ring onto her finger, as if following the exchange of vows. "The shackle, Master Furez?"

Furez stepped forward and worked the key into the lock of that shackle. It fell away. "Right," said the Captain. "If you'll just hold her steady, Master Furez..." The rotund man shifted forward, using his meaty strength to hold Xaviera's arm down on the table, almost like --

A butcher! The realization hit Xaviera like a hammer to the side of the head, and was punctuated when the Captain drew a blade of some kind -- a cross between a machete and a cleaver. "No," Xaviera gasped. "No, no -- "

"I can usually do this with one swing if they keep still, Your Majesty. Don't let's have it get messy, hm? Makes it so much more difficult to cauterize the wound and I'd really hate for something to happen to you." He paused and gave the machete a few experimental whacks, chopping divots from the wood table not far from her fingertips. "Master Baalo, help Furez, would you please?"

Blackburn Fane

 

[Blackburn Fane]

Xaviera

She ain't no Queen more.

They think she dead.​

Boss' gonna send 'em a message.​

He got a cleaver with her name on it.

The dungeons, with the wine and the meat, perfect place. No?​

---

He was standing in the shadows and watching the scene with naked curiosity.

Did they really think sending a woman's hand with a ring on it would mean anything? When did that ever work in the stories? Then again, pirates weren't exactly the smartest type of leach. Just the most persistent when they were holed up in places like these.

Fane pulled out his knife.

The Captain rose his butcher's knife.

The men were struggling to keep Xaviera pinned down.

Spirited one. But I guess that's why she is- or was Queen. Fane thought to himself as he let his knife fly. It zoomed through the room and embedded itself with a wet meaty thunk into the captain's chest. The room grew silent expect for the man's cries of pain.

Furez seemed shocked, even as Baalo whirled around to meet the hidden assailant.

Right in time to earn a punch in his face.

 

[Xaviera]

"No, no, no, no," the Queen panted, struggling mightily against the two men trying to hold her in place. Then things happened, several of them, all at once:

The pirate captain took a staggering step backwards.

A crimson stain appeared on the chest of his shirt and rapidly spread.

Baalo made a sound like a chicken being stepped on and dropped to the floor.

Xaviera wriggled herself free of Furez's grasp, rolling off the table and onto the floor. A moment later the captain collapsed into a heap. He reached for her weakly with one hand, rage and shock filling his eyes before any emotion at all left them and he was still. Xaviera could now see the dagger extruding from the captain's chest and became vaguely aware of the tussle behind her.

She wrenched the dagger out of the captain's chest with some difficulty and used the table to haul herself to her feet. Furez was panting too, his face red as a blood moon, and though he lifted a meaty hand to reach for her, he dropped it to clutch at his chest before collapsing on the ground, first onto his knees, then onto his bulbous front. Xaviera seized his hair and yanked his head back; he wasn't breathing but it didn't stop her slicing his throat with the dagger.

Two tormenters down. One to go. Maybe.

She turned back to the fight, brandishing the dagger.

Blackburn Fane

 

[Blackburn Fane]

Xaviera

By the time Xaviera turned around Fane was about done with his assailant.

He kicked him in the side once for good measure. Master Baalo did not so much as make a squeak. Satisfied with that the would-be hero turned to Xaviera. Slicked his hair back and tried his best variant of a charming smile.

The effect was kind of ruined by the following-

There was a knife sticking out of his side.

Blackburn Fane did not seem to mind... or even notice this however. "Yar Highness, Blackburn Fane... at your service, my Lady." He drawled as if there wasn't a six inch steel shoved deep in his gut. In fact, instead he righted himself even more, perfect pose.

"I was made aware of yar plight an' came to rescue you."

This seemed to be the end of his learned little one-liner one two.

"Hm. Well, I guess you are rescued now. Would you like to take my arm?" Isn't that what a galant Knight would do right afterwards? And so Fane offered his arm.

 

[Xaviera]

Xaviera didn't feel rescued.

She doubted she would feel rescued until she had put this island and the pirates behind her. Not until she was back in her rooms in the palace in Tyria. But she would certainly settle for on a boat, sailing away from this horrible place.

"Thank you, Blackburn Fane," said the Tyrian Queen, her voice subtly accented in the purple of Tyria. "I am Xaviera, Queen of Tyria, as you obviously know. I am eager to know how you became aware of my predicament, but I believe these pleasantries can wait until we are away from this place." She knelt down and pulled a ring of keys from Furez's belt, then stood again.

"These should get us out of here, and to your boat. Lead on. By the way," she added, gesturing towards his side. "You seem to have a knife sticking out of you. Are you going to be all right?"

 

[Blackburn Fane]

Xaviera

"Well, I didn't know your name, I just heard there was a Queen in shackles in these parts. So, pleasure meeting you, Xaviera."

If any disrespect was meant it didn't show. Fane was just grinning pleased and made a little sketching bow and flourish to accompany it. All politeness. It was entirely possible he just didn't know how to address a Queen properly.

Or maybe he just didn't care enough.

"Oh." A glance down to his gut and noticing the knife. "Fuck me, this keeps happening." And then unceremoniously Fane pulled out the knife and dropped it to the ground. First there was a seeping of blood... but it quickly become a trickle... and then?

It stopped entirely.

If the Queen was not the Queen she might have been interested to lean in and see. The stab wound? It was already closing itself.

"Yeah, sure, follow me, lady." On the way to the door he casually pulled out his knife from the Captain's chest and cleaned it off the latter's coat. "Though- I swam here, no boat involved. I am sure one of these lads has a beautiful ship for us to use however!"

Cheerful and chipper.

This day was going quite well, wasn't it?

 

[Xaviera]

Xaviera watched in a mixture of revulsion and curiosity as the man yanked the knife from his torso. She sucked air between her teeth and looked away. She was not convinced that the man would be as fine as he seemed to think he would, but at the moment he was her only hope of getting out of this place in one piece. Or at all.

The Queen went to the door and used the purloined keys to unlock the door and pulled it open with creaking hinges. She peered out first one way, then the other, and then pulled it open fully and stepped out. She took a torch off the wall sconce and brandished it to see if she could see further.

"Which way?" she hissed over her shoulder. "I came from that way," she pointed left with the torch, "but I only ever saw the cell they kept me in. I don't know what else is down there. I don't know what goes down that way, either."

Blackburn Fane

 

[Blackburn Fane]

Xaviera

Blackburn followed after Xaviera with far less stealth.

In fact, no stealth whatsoever.

Instead he hummed as he looked over her shoulder, first to the left, and then to the right. "Oh. Well, I think we ought to go as far way from your cell as possible, don't we? Lest we end up in it together." 'Lest'. Since when did Fane use words like that? He didn't look like someone who would use a word like that. No, his time with Vardan was certainly starting to rub off.

Fane wasn't sure if he liked that or not.

"Well, let's go, shall we?" And then pushed himself, as gently as he could, past the Queen and trundled down the right path.

Now that the Queen was under his protection... well... he didn't have to be so careful.

"So, you been here long?" Over his shoulder as if they were having a conversation about the weather.

 

[Xaviera]

The Queen gave one last uncertain look down the other way, then hurried to catch up with the large man that was her unlikely rescuer. The question brought her up slightly short, and she had to make a conscious effort to keep plodding forward. "I -- I've lost track of time," she told him. "I don't know the seasons here. I believe we are far from my home. But I would estimate -- maybe three months. I was performing an inspection of Tyria's new naval vessels, and a storm nearly sank us. The pirate bastard certainly knew how to handle himself in a tempest."

She suppressed the urge to spit.

The discussion of the timetable made her quicken her pace. More than wanting to get out of the cell, more than wanting to get to safety, she was homesick for Tyria. The city of her birth, rising from the shores of the bay, golden under vivid blue skies. There was something about the place -- about the way the air smelled, about the softness of the sands, about the sturdiness of the bricks -- that made her heart ache to be back there.

"They must think I'm dead," she muttered disconsolately. That would be... a problem. She had no heirs. As a young woman she had plenty of time to bear children, but she had barely settled into her role as Queen. Her meddling grandmother seemed eager to sell her off to the god-emperor Gerra's harem; Xaviera wasn't quite convinced of the virtue of such a plan, but Jaliah had her own views.

Maddeningly.

"Where did you come from?" she asked Blackburn Fane as she caught up to his elbow.