A Promise

Pirates

A cannon ball whizzed by, nearly clipping the foremast at the bow. Everyone swirled their gazes around, pulling cannons out and prepping them. Then they shoved large lead balls into the barrel. Grace was pushed down by Butcher, cursing loudly as he steered the ship away, trying to get a better angle on the ship. Another pirate ship. It seemed to be just as large as the Black Vengeance, but they seemed to be moving faster. “Cursed Pirates!” Butcher yelled. He returned to shouting orders since Lorenzo wasn't on deck to do it.

In a breath's time, the captain was running up the stairs, tying his trousers to keep them in place. He didn't have a shirt, but Grace knew this was not the time to admire his sculpted chest. His rippled abs and chiseled pecs.

A cannon fired, bringing her back. She silently berated herself for thinking such inappropriate thoughts.

Glancing out at the ship closing in on them with a jolly roger—black, with a sideways skull biting a knife—flying high at the back, Grace felt her heart race. “Damn.” Lorenzo spied the flag knowing it was one of the pirates that lurked in these waters. The Death Ones were what they were called. Cursing under his breath, he turned to Grace. “Do you know how to handle a sword?” The nymph simply shrugged, not having any formal training, but did play around with one before. “Well that will have to due. Grab one and be ready when they board.”

Glancing towards Butcher, Grace found his once calming presence was gone and in its place, a stoic warrior ready for anything. Chills rolled down her spine as she saw the sparkle in his eyes. A cold reminder he was named “Butcher” for a reason.

Lorenzo glanced at her before gesturing wildly for her to go and get a sword. Grace moved quickly to grab a metal sword. It was just lying on the wooden deck, waiting for her to take it. She tested the weight in her hand before going to check on Alice. She needed to protect her as best as she could. It was her duty.

Cannons rocked the ship, hitting the hull and showering splinters of wood on-board. Grace lurched to the left, hitting the wall with her shoulder, for the sword was in that hand. Hissing as she felt as if something popped out, she continued on, still carrying the sword. Pain spiraled up from her shoulder, raising warning flags in her mind that something was wrong with it. She was already down to one arm and she hadn't even started fighting yet. Things weren't looking good.

Wobbling into the captain's cabin, she found Alice, huddled in the corner, looking scared out of her mind. Her eyes flickered to Grace, locking on to her face before breathing a sigh of relief. “Grace,” Alice whispered, standing up and latching onto the woman. “Save me.” It wasn't a command; one she already had in mind. But those words sent something through Grace. A defiance. She pulled Alice off, tugging her arms and stepping back.

“I can't promise that, my lady.” Alice gaped at her as she walked away, heading back out the door and shutting it tight. Shouts and screams rose, resonating in the very air. The cacophony of battle filtered through her ears. Grace stood there, frozen as fear and apprehension took hold of every muscle in her body. They locked every joint and tendon in place, allowing her to not move at all.

The scene before her was nothing short of barbaric. Men hacking away at each other. Shooting others in the back and laughing while doing it. She wasn't prepared for something like this. She took no pride in being the death of someone. Grace didn't even relish the idea of fighting. But something, somewhere deep within her stirred, getting stronger and igniting an urge; a fire in her soul. It frightened her that she started to want to be in the battle, in the clash of swords and pistols.

A yell startled her into action. A man, straw colored hair and bearded, ran at her. His sword held high. He slammed it downwards. A clang rang out as she brought up her own sword to block. Spinning it around, she threw him off of his next attack. Quickly, Grace thrust, trying to end this as fast as possible by using her minimal knowledge of handling a sword. The man just parried, sending her sideways as he arced the sword towards her shoulder, trying to hit her neck. Blocking, she nearly fell to her knees at the force in that swing. She gripped the hilt with both hands, biting her lip at the pain as she pushed him back. Only for him to come at her again. This time a thrust, aimed at her stomach. Grace sidestepped, putting up her blade to block any attack from that as she almost backed into another pirate. He snarled at her, scaring her enough to forget about the other pirate she was fighting as she backed away. The battle raged on, leaving her without an opponent.

Then something splattered against her cheek and clothes. A metallic smell wafted into the air. She knew instantly what it was: blood. Many emotions flied through her as she slowly reached up to wipe some of it off of her cheek. Turning to look, she saw the body, decapitated. His head rolling beside her. A feeling rolls up from her stomach as she stared at the black eyes and open mouth of the pirate.

“Grace!” It snapped her back to reality and her gaze away from the head. She stared into Butcher's eyes, seeing the concern within them. Her grip loosened on the hilt of her sword, dropping it to the deck as her knees tremble very badly. They knocked against each other, essentially sending her to the floor.

Butcher fought off another pirate, small and trying to pull spectacular moves before he cut him down, killing him with a thrust to the heart. He glanced at Grace still frozen in the same place, but looking ghastly. All her color was disappearing by the second, leaving her pallid and pasty, which didn't look right on her.

He parried another blow from a large man just as one came at Grace, knowing she was an easy target, especially at this moment. Before he could call out, a clash of swords came. Whirling around, Butcher stared at the scene. Grace was holding the stronger, buffer man off with her sword; the one she dropped. Her arms shook from lassitude, but a determine look entered her eyes. Pushing him back, she fought with speed and accuracy he didn't see from her in the beginning. But she didn't kill the pirate. Instead she backed him up against the bulwark and pushed him over.

Looking down at the gray water, reflecting the sky above, Grace watched the waves. Power started to radiate off of her. It came in gentle waves, rolling over the unsuspecting pirates, knocking them down to their knees. Even the crew of Black Vengeance fell, wondering what was going on. A crack of lightning, flashing against the clouds, echoed across the water. Everyone jumped, not expecting it to be so close as if right above them.

“Grace!” It pulled her gaze from the water to the person appearing from the darkness. Alice stared at the familiar servant, wondering what she was doing. A feeling came forth from within her, crawling over her skin and gently tugged her towards Grace. She didn't know what it was, but something was calling her to Grace. Fear etched itself in Alice's chocolate brown orbs as she gazed from her arms to Grace.

“Alice?” Grace asked, not believing she would be stupid enough to come out in the middle of a battle. “What are you doing out here?” She hurried towards her mistress, hoping to get her back inside, and into safety. As safe as this ship could get with cannons firing.

The ship jerked to the right, sending everyone sprawling across the wooden planks. Grace slammed into Alice, knocking her down. She hit her head. Blood bloomed from the wound, ensanguining her hair. The noble moaned as she pushed Grace off of her, glaring. Grace scrambled back before worrying she might lose Alice to this wound if not treated. She tried to look at it, but Alice kept pushing her away, glaring harshly at her servant. “Alice,” she started.

“Go away.” Grace sat there, not believing her ears before bowing her head and walking back only to find the battle once again in full swing. Now, she didn't have a sword to protect herself nor Alice. Looking for one, she found a discarded one just out of arm's reach from her. Scrabbling towards it, she screamed, feeling something slicing through her. The pirate jerked the blade from her as Grace crumbled to the ground, placing her hand over the bleeding wound. Tears fell freely as she turned, bleary eyed to her grim reaper. Before he could land the final blow, Lorenzo killed him. The pirate fell in a pool of his own blood as she scurried away, not even thanking the captain.



The attacking ship pulled away; pirates dead or retreating. They left even a few alive within Lorenzo's grasp. Before the ship could get far, something stopped it, lifting the massive ship up before sucking it beneath the ocean. “Bloody cursed! They be cursed!” one pirate exclaimed, scared it might happen to Lorenzo's ship, but after a few tense moments, nothing. Everyone still waited, but most went to tend the dead, tossing most over board and muttering a quick prayer for their soul.

The rest alive were bruised, bloody, and tired. The ship was more or less still in working shape, but everyone knew they needed to repair it or have it repaired. It was slowly taking on water. “Butcher, find where we are. The ones with injuries head to Doc. The rest to your posts.” Lorenzo sheathed his cutlass, not even cleaning it before heading upstairs.

Grace leaned heavily against the wall behind the stairs, breathing slowly before looking towards Alice. She was walking, but she needed the doctor to look at her wound. Summoning up the strength, Grace walked over to her, gesturing silently to head towards the cabin the doctor used. There was a long line, and a few just grabbed bandages and head back out, forgoing a look from the aging man that was the doctor. His hair was receding and gray streaked the black greasy strands. His tired blue eyes glanced up as Alice and Grace came in. “Oh,” was all he said as he went to Grace, noticing the flower of blood spreading across her shirt and vest.

“No. Look at her first. I'm fine.” Grace gestured to Alice, who was looking at the doctor, haughty.

“I'm sure she could-”

“No.” Grace stayed adamant that he looked at Alice first. She was a servant and of lower stature. Alice had to go first. The doctor sighed, accepting that Grace wouldn't let him look at her until he looked at Alice. He pulled at Alice's hair, fingering the small cut making Alice groan as he placed a patch of gauze, soaking up the blood.

“That's it?” Alice asked, turning to the doctor, not liking that was all he was looking at. “You must be a terrible doctor. If I was back home I would get better service than this. I want a full examination.”

The doctor, Rick, shook his head. “That isn't necessary. You just have a small cut on the back of the head.”

“Then why so much blood?” Alice snapped at the poor man. He opened his mouth to answer as Alice cut him off. “I want a full examination or I will tell the captain and have you thrown off.” Rick turned to Grace, glancing worriedly at the wound she had a hand over, trying to stanch it. It ran over her fingers, staining them easily. Not a good sign.

Grace ducked her head and walks out, allowing the two to have some privacy. She leaned heavily against the walls as she made her way back up to the deck. Many crew members cleared the debris as others unfurl the sails, letting them catch the wind.

She stumbled as she tried to get to the captain's cabin, feeling for the door as black spots started obscuring her vision. Blinking many times, she tried to clear it, but nothing seemed to work. Feeling light headed, Grace stopped, closing her eyes as she forced herself to keep her focus. All she needed was to head into the cabin and hopefully to an immediate fix until the doctor was done with Alice.

Her world tilted sharply, sending her to the deck. No one seemed to notice her as she slowly drifted off, leaving this world to her dreams.

“Grace?” a soft voice asked, getting louder as she realized Butcher was calling her name. “Grace, c'mon. Wake up.” Her shoulder, the left one, was being shaken and it woke her up enough to swat his hand away.

“That hurts...” she whispered, not managing enough strength to even say it louder.

“Oh t'ank ta gods! Ya 'ad me worried.” His eyes glanced over her form, noticing the sizable stain of blood on her clothes. It got bigger and bigger as time slipped on. “Ya need ta see Doc.”

“No. Alice...” her voice trailed off, feeling the tug of the abyss calling her.

“Grace.” Butcher grabbed her shoulder, squeezing it, hoping the pain would wake her up, but this time it didn't. He was losing her. She wouldn't last much longer, that much he knew. “Hold on.” He picked her up, not caring her blood was getting on him as he rushed to the captain. The one person that may be able to help besides Doc.

Lorenzo was manning the helm this time, muttering curses under his breath as Butcher came up, holding Grace close. “Sorry ta distu'b ya, but Grace needs attention, now.” Lorenzo opened his mouth to ask why Rick hadn't looked at her, but Butcher answered it before he could with a single name. “Alice.”

Sighing heavily, Lorenzo ran a hand down his face, feeling the stickiness of the blood on him. He knew he would have to clean the blood off soon. “I can't do it, Butcher. You know the rules.” Butcher nearly growled at that.

“Dis time it don't matte'. She be somethin' mo'e. Rules a'e meant ta be broken anyways.” Lorenzo stared into Butcher's eyes, finding he firmly believed she was worth saving. And something told the captain that the rules didn't apply to Grace. Somehow.

He nodded, sighing as Butcher laid her out flat, stepping back as Lorenzo pushed up his sleeves, readying himself. Mumbling something beneath his breath, he pulled back her vest and shirt, showing the wound. It was as clean of a cut as any dull sword could give. The gaping wound was jagged at the edges. Blood seemed to continually flow as if there was an endless supply of it within her.

Lorenzo glanced at Butcher. The man knew what he wanted and moved away, standing at the stairs. He was there to keep anyone from going up. He growled at anyone that got close. And that got them to stay away.

The captain muttered words beneath his breath, praying. He prayed to the gods. Gods that he knew. Ones that could help. And Lorenzo knew they would answer him. It was one of the few reasons why he couldn't call on them often. They would also do what he asked. Unless ordered not to.

Something draped over his shoulders. He knew they were there. He didn't turn, knowing they would scatter if he did and that would sentence Grace to death. He could feel it. The power. It wasn't his own. His own was something else entirely. His hands grew warm as he gently placed them upon the wound. Lorenzo could feel the weave of the power stitching the skin back together. It wove in and out, making the injury disappear beneath his hands. The once jagged cut glowed softly gold before dying away to reveal smooth skin.

He then gently moved her onto her side. Lorenzo gazed at small wounds across her whole body. Most were superficial, barely breaking the skin, but some were a bit deeper. The captain pushed the vest off and the shirt up to expose her back. Lorenzo had seen whip marks before, most heal within weeks, but when tipped with blades; it took longer. What he saw on her back were scars, long and white, that littered her back. Tracing one of the longer ones, Lorenzo found a sadness starting to build along with an anger.

The healing was done. The presence disappeared. He was alone with just Grace.

“Grace?” Alice called, trying to find her. And now he had to deal with Alice.

Butcher scrambled up the stairs, pulling the shirt and vest on Grace before Alice would come up here. Lorenzo knew Alice didn't pay any attention to or avoided Butcher. Alice walked up, sporting a bandage around her head, showing she was wounded, but both men figure it wasn't that bad. Especially if she was walking. “Oh,” she smiled as she spotted Lorenzo and then Grace. “Grace!” She moved to Butcher, only to pause an arm's length away. Alice looked up at Butcher, cringing away from his intense stare. Tucking her hands behind her back, she glanced down at the floor.

“Alice?” the voice was soft and wispy as if caught in the wind. Grace slowly opened her eyes, staring up at Butcher before turning her head to Alice, standing just a few steps away. Letting Butcher set her down, Grace kept a hand on his arm to steady herself as she blinked away the haze. Her hair was matted with knots and her own blood. Alice grinned as she looked at Grace, knowing she had her servant back.

“I think you should head back to the bed and rest,” Lorenzo said gently, gesturing with his head as he looked at Grace. Alice pouted, not liking that Grace was getting all the attention; attention she should be getting. This trip hasn't been as good as I thought it would be. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be the center of attention once more. She wanted all the guys flirting with her, trying for her hand. She wanted to be nobility again.

“Why does she get all the attention?” Alice snapped, crossing her arms, looking away from the two. “I'm injured and she gets everyone fawning over her.” All eyes turned towards her as tears rolled down her wide eyes. “Why am I not good enough? Aren't I prettier than her? I'm suppose to be on everyone's mind!” Alice whined, stomping her foot like a spoiled child. Alice stepped to Lorenzo's side, hanging off his arm. “I liked you. I thought we had something. Aren't I enough? Don't you have eyes only for me?” She dug her nails into his arm, keeping him standing next to her, within her grasp. “I am the one you want. I fulfill all your needs.”

“Enough!” The poop deck quieted, letting everyone slowly turn towards the person that shouted. Grace. She heaved, as if it took a lot of energy to do that. “I have had enough. You...” Grace didn't know how to describe Alice. Nothing seemed to fit her perfectly. She was spoiled in every sense of the word; wealthy, attention, affection, servants, and being nobility. “You are spoiled and out here,” she gestured to the ship. “that is something that will get you killed.” Her words sank in slowly. Alice stared, aghast. She opened and closed her mouth, trying to find the words to retort back to her servant. Her servant!

Tired and wanting to lie down, Grace headed down to Lorenzo's cabin, ignoring everyone. She couldn't stand any longer. She had to rest. Grace went to the bed and flopped, not even caring if her stained clothes would dirty the bed. Letting her dreams take her away, she fell into the sweet abyss that was sleep.