Blood rained down on him. His sword cut through flesh and found resistance against bone, to which he lashed out until it broke. Limbs fell on the ground. Hollers were all around him. 

They could have surrendered themselves, but they hadn't. 

It was a merchant ship. Silk and velvet, a shaking officer had told him. Expensive fabrics — Rogier was surprised the ship wasn't equipped with heavier artillery. A few warning shots had been fired, but he didn't want the ship to sink. First, they had to clean out the hold. They could trade the fabrics, he knew a place where they would make some good money. Also, he wanted to confiscate half of the food that was aboard.  

There were slaves on the ship, the most important reason he didn't want to kill off the whole crew. He had been sold too once. Had been on a ship like this. It was the mercenaries with whose blood he wanted to paint the deck. They fought to the bitter end, protecting the cargo until their last breath. No matter how many men who were held here against their will would be killed. 

He buried his sword in a mercenary's abdomen, kicked his legs from under his body, and stepped one foot on his chest while pulling out his sword. He looked around. Slaves were hiding in a corner of the ship, waiting until the battle was over. One of the officers scattered them, telling them to do where they'd been bought for. Some followed the orders in panic, others turned against their masters. 

The Imo Gen crew was doing well, they were a welcome addition. Close to him, Eric was fighting, a little behind him the red-haired doctor drove a portly man over the railing. Rogier's glance flashed across the deck. Where was Rory? He had expected him to fight alongside his friend, protecting each other's backs. From his periphery he saw a movement; he dodged a sword, slammed his elbow in the face of his attacker, and lashed out to his side. The moment the man collapsed, Rogier stepped away and continued to observe the others. The blond kid was nowhere to be seen. Swinging his sword he fought a way toward Lee. 

"Where's your friend?" he asked. "The blonde?"

The redhead looked around. "Guess he was one of the first o' deck, cap." He didn't seem to worry about him. "He'd never miss the chance of a good fight." Lee showed him a grin, pushed away a mercenary, and killed him. 

It didn't sit right with him. Rogier was tall, he could look over the others. Rory however was the smallest person aboard. Grabbing a rope, he stepped on the railing and looked down. The kid was nowhere. The number of bodies however was growing rapidly. He wasn't dead, right? There was a heavy feeling in his chest. He'd assumed that Rory would be fine, he'd seen his fighting spirit. It reminded him of their first meeting when the boy wanted to protect his captain. He liked a challenge. 

So where was he? The only explanation he could think of was that he was dead. 

Clenching his jaw, he attacked his opponents with more venom. The unrest grew when more and more bodies hit the deck. 

Once they captured the ship, cornered the opponents, and lowered their weapons, Rogier looked around. Again, there was no sign of Rory. His glance rested upon Lee. His eyes were wide and he stumbled between the fallen sailors, rolling them on their backs. 

He was looking for his friend. 

As he started yelling his name, it felt like an ice-cold wave washed over him. 

Next to him, Markus showed up, blood splatters all over his face. "Ye lookin' for that blond devil?"

Rogier gave him an intrusive look. 

"The coward's hiding in the hold."

"Bullshit," North grumbled. "None of my men is hiding during a battle. And especially not our Ripper."

Markus huffed. "Go look for yourself."

"Why didn't you drag him upstairs?" Rogier asked. 

"And risking a dagger in my head? It's not my job to make people obey you."

The reproach stung, even though Rogier wasn't sure he believed him. Had he been so wrong about Rory? But what other reason could he have to hide? He caught himself wishing that Rory was dead instead of hiding like a frightened rat.

"Get him once we're done here," Rogier told Markus, grumbling. 

. . .

If Rogier ever did this to him again, he would have to fucking bind him! His jaws were aching because he was clenching them the whole time. He'd heard how the violence started while he was sitting here because his captain didn't want him to be in danger. He was incredibly disappointed in Rogier for not giving him a chance to fight. Soon he would demand a duel so he could show his skills! He was a pirate, just like everyone else! And he was sick of everyone treating him like a child, just because of his age and his length. He fought countless battles, he even told Rogier about them last night. Tears of anger and powerlessness were stinging his eyes. More than once he'd been close to storming upstairs, but he had forced himself to stay. He wouldn't run upstairs like some angry teenager, he would stay calm and have an adult conversation with his captain. 

It felt like a whole day had passed when Markus finally came downstairs. The smirk on his face had rarely been this wide. What happened? Was Rogier dead, would he take his place?

"Go upstairs. The captain wants to speak to you." Markus grabbed his upper arm. 

Rory wanted to yank his arm away, but Markus was two heads taller than him. Roughly, he dragged him towards the stairs. Sulking, Rory followed him. The man's arms and his shirt were covered in blood. He glanced at his own daggers which were in the sheaths attached to his belt. They were still spotless and shiny. 

He narrowed his eyes to shield off the sunlight. Everyone had gathered on deck. His eyes wandered across the crowd and rested upon Lee. He saw the incomprehension on his face. Rory was embarrassed like hell. If this was a glimpse of the life he would lead when he was his captain's lover, he didn't even want it anymore. He barely felt like a man! 

His eyes met Rogier's. He stood in the middle, his muscular arms crossed in front of his chest. He didn't know how to interpret the expression on his face, but he wasn't happy about it. 

"Next time I will fight!" Rory yelled, feeling the anger flow through his veins. "I demand a —"

"Shut up, you gutless rat," Markus cut him off. He squeezed so hard in Rory's arm that he was sure he would leave bruises behind. "Don't come up with excuses now. You were hiding like a coward."

"I did what," Rory called out. "Keep your hands off me, you lying piece of shit!"

Markus chuckled, casting him a dark glance. "You really thought nobody would notice that you weren't around?"

"But you —"

"Yes?" Markus taunted, in such a soft tone that only Rory could hear it. "You're really gonna claim that Rogier sent ye down cause he feared for your life, in front of everyone?"

Rory's shoulders tensed. Nobody would believe him.  He glared at Markus before giving Rogier a desperate look. "He ordered me to stay behind." His defense sounded weak. "He said —"

"Enough," Rogier interrupted him. 

A shiver rolled down his spine as he saw the scourge in Rogier's hand. He was going to be whipped. His throat tightened, and despair filled his body. This was so unfair, Markus had entrapped him!

"Disobedience will not be tolerated on this ship. Ten lashes."

Ten lashes. With a scourge with nine tails. 

In panic, he looked around. He saw Lee's pale face, North's face however was like a mask, not revealing any emotions. They didn't believe he had been hiding, right? He always fought with the others, he...

"Take off your shirt."

Rory bent his head. His fingers were trembling as he wrapped them around the hem of his shirt. Next to him, he could feel Markus' amusement. Nevertheless, he obeyed. 

"Not you," Rogier's voice suddenly sounded. 

Confused, he looked up to his captain. For a moment his blue eyes held his, then he turned his face and focused on the man standing next to him. 

"I'm talking to you, Markus. Take off your shirt."

"W-what?"

The disbelief in his voice was so pure even Rory felt an ounce of pity.

"Tie him to the mast," Rogier said to the man next to him. 

Rory had the feeling the world was spinning around him, which only became worse when the captain came to stand next to him. He looked at the man, instantly forgetting where he was when the blue swallowed his attention. 

"Ten lashes," Rogier said. 

Then, he pushed the scourge into Rory's hands.