Down in the Hold
Amaal sat in the hold of the ship. The only light came from the moon shining through the cracks in the rowing deck above. She thought about using her flute case to knock out the guards sitting several paces away, but there were two of them, armed and relatively sober. Besides, Amaal had never seen Elishat use physical violence to solve a problem. The Queen used subtle strategies like cunning and charm, both of which were less than adequate given the grim circumstances. The incoherent ramblings and shouts of pirates above deck told her nothing about whether progress was being made toward her ransom or rescue. The voice she listened for most closely was that of Nunshin, but he only grumbled and groused and shouted orders. In a way, she was grateful that the only attention he’d paid to her was to order the guards to put her down below. It was only after she heard the banging of an oar against the side of the ship that she realized that the shore boat had pushed off. After that, she no longer heard Nunshin speaking at all. Her only hope was that his departure meant that a negotiation for her release was underway.
A rat whiskered its way to the top of a mound of cargo and stopped to preen and sniff at the dank air. Amaal sat in the dark and listened to the lonely creaking of the hull. As she grew more accustomed to her prison, another sound caught her ear: a soft moaning from the far end of the hold. At first, she thought it might be a cat or even a pigeon that had gotten trapped among the cargo. She peered into the darkness and made out the figure of a man, his arms and legs bound with rope, his chin heavy against his chest. It was Tondo, reduced to a prisoner on his own ship. Amaal thought to call out but hesitated. Tondo would recognize that she was not Elishat, and she could not risk giving herself away. She remained silent though the man clearly needed help. Without Tondo in charge, she realized, the ship was deadlier than a scorpion’s nest. It would be a miracle if she got out alive.