Days At Sea

Chapter 2 - I've Got You

It was bitterly cold: a harsh breeze whistled through the dungeons, and Isabella was shivering in her sleep. A loud snore from one of the other prisoners broke through the primarily silent air, and Isabella jolted awake, slipping sideways from her propped-up position against the wall. She felt a distinct sense of deja vu as she lifted her head, heavy and aching, from the firm, slippery stone. Slowly readjusting herself and pulling her skirts over her numb legs, she glanced around her cell. It was bleak, and the slimy walls and floor were making Isabella's clothing even filthier than it had been already. Her black hair was stuck together in a gross, tangled mess, and it strongly resembled the seaweed that often got stuck to a rowboat's oars. It smelt distinctly similar, too. She had been too distracted to notice when she'd first arrived, but a small pot was in the corner of her cell, and she supposed that was where she relieved herself. There was also a small jug; peering into it, she noticed it was water. It seemed that prisoners were allowed just enough to keep them alive. Although it was tinged a light, mouldy green from the suspicious floating shadows within, she guzzled it down, spilling a significant amount down her front. She had dried a great deal since she had woken the first time, but with a sigh, she found herself damp once more. 

"Good morning, sleeping beauty."

Isabella gave a start, spilling more water. It took her a second to recognise the voice.

"You've read the fairy tales?"

Hugo hummed, which wasn't a satisfactory answer to Isabella's question. Thankfully, he continued. 

"It was one of the few books kept in the captain's quarters. We only had manuals and some... interesting works of fiction from the crew to read, but the captain had a much more engaging collection. I admit that I may have borrowed it." Hugo said conversationally. Isabella's definition of 'borrowing' was undoubtedly different from his.

"The word 'borrowing' implies you were given permission," she pointed out. Hugo's comment about 'muddling his English words' made Isabella snort with disbelieving laughter.

Once she had stopped rolling her eyes, she asked, "How long have you been awake?" She paused, furrowing her brow. "How did you know I was awake?" 

"One question at a time!" Hugo huffed, but not with much conviction. 

"I was probably awake half an hour before you. Do you know how loud you snore? As soon as this dungeon was silent, I knew the beast must have awoken from her slumber! Hugo started giggling at Isabella's silence - his cheeky titter was frustratingly endearing. Isabella's face flushed scarlet. 

"That is no way to talk to a woman!"

"A woman!" Hugo scoffed. "You've been pretending to be a man, have you not?" He said incredulously.

"Well, you're not much of a gentleman!" Isabella huffed, crossing her arms. Hugo agreed between laughs, which somewhat lessened her indignation. At least he was self-aware. 

"Seriously, I haven't talked this much for years," he exhaled.

"How long have you been down here?!" Isabella pressed.  She had yet to get a satisfactory answer. 

"About a year, a year and a half. It's hard to keep track." Hugo replied indifferently. 

"And you never got desperate enough to at least attempt an escape?" Isabella whispered. She shivered, staring at the grimy stone surrounding her.

"You're inquisitive this evening. I already told you it's too risky. The French navy is trying to round up all the pirates to 'purify' the seas. No free pirate knows me now - not one that would help me, anyway."