A Siren at the Helm

Chapter XIII: She's a Pirate

*The picture above is what I imagine Esteban to look like.*

Esteban almost chocked on the air in his lungs. "You are wanting me to dress up as a guard?"
"Well I won't pass for one," Amina gestured to herself. "And besides, I'm not dressing in front of you lot."
Esteban could not think of a reason as for why this was a horrible plan, although he tried his best. The second to last thing he wanted was to be dressed as a navyman, the last being stuck in prison for the last of his days and then hanged. In comparison to that, a change of clothes seemed preferable.

And so, he started undoing the buttons of the unconscious man's scarlet coat, muttering Spanish curses all the way. He felt quite smug at the idea that Amina probably couldn't understand them. After stripping the poor guard of his uniform he was left in Esteban's cell, a coarse blanket covering what was left of his modesty.

Now all that was left to do, was for Esteban to change. A sudden thought however, made him uncomfortable. A thought that had very much to do with the ocean eyed girl standing a few feet away, watching calculatingly. Amina who seemed to read his thoughts, mumbled something before walking down the corridor. The only discernible words being "check" and "guards".

After donning the tricorn and trousers, he put on the vermillion coat over his blue one. He had had that coat specifically tailored to his taste for a small fortune, and he was most definitely not leaving it here. Esteban tucked the midnight blue seams into his trousers so that the clothing was well hidden behind the naval uniform. No one would suspect a thing.

After strapping the man's cutlass to his side, Esteban and his men went in search of Amina. They found her lazily leaning against the wall at the end of the dark, candle lit hallway, watching the corridor beyond. At the sound of their footsteps, she looked around. "At last. I was almost beginning to think that you had managed to lock yourselves back in the cell."
Esteban chose to ignore her comment. "Which way is out?" He chose to ask.
Amina pointed to the right and Esteban assumed she remembered how she had been brought in.

They started in the direction Amina had gestured, she and Esteban taking the lead with his crew tagging on behind. They zigzagged and looped through the corridors that felt so endless. At one point Esteban had started doubting the girl's sense of direction. This was taking far too long.
"Do you know where you are going, or do you just walk in the direction you like most?" He inquired impatiently.
"Have faith will you? We will be there soon and then I will have the utmost pleasure of prying a thanks out of you."

Esteban found her sudden lack of concern about the situation frightening. She had been the same when trying to escape his ship. Cheerful, with no apparent regard for the danger that saturated the circumstance. That had not ended well for him. However, he reminded himself, for once they were on the same side. What boded well for her now, was good for him and his crew as well, was it not? Surely if she was so confident about their escapade it was going well so far. It had to be said that Amina had gotten both him and his crew out of their cells. That was progress. Though, it did little to comfort Esteban as nervousness churned up his insides. They could still be recaptured.

They were spat out into a moderately sized hall. On the other side of the room the corridor continued onward. To Esteban's left there was a staircase that led up to another floor. Nearly everything was made of stone. It gave the place a hard, eery feeling, as if the building itself were cruel. Esteban did not need convincing to believe that.

Suddenly he became aware aware of a sound. It had been there all along, gradually growing louder until Esteban was forced to acknowledge it. It was the sound of wind moaning around the corners of the fort. The walls were to thick to hear it through them, and so there had to be an exit nearby. He could not believe it. In a few minutes they would be free. No one would be hanged and...