Tyria heard them before she saw them. The sound of voices broke through the ambient jungle noises, and she looked up from the yellow cloth in her hooves. Somepony barked a laugh. They must have returned.
She scrambled to her hooves in the empty cage, racing over to the side that faced the pirate camp. In the dark night, she strained to catch a glimpse of the approaching party. Beyond the giant campfire that roared in the fire pit between the buildings, she could see fuzzy shadows moving closer.
There were four zebras, the same number that had come for Rye several hours earlier. They were dragging him between them, pulling him backwards across the ground. It was impossible to tell in the darkness if he was moving. Tyria bit her lip.
When the zebras reached the cage, one of them brandished a knife at her. Tyria retreated from the door, eyeing them warily. The pirates opened the cage and tossed Rye inside, then slammed the bamboo door closed and relocked it. They turned and left, one of the zebras bursting out into laughter.
She rushed to Rye’s side, gingerly rolling him over to lie on his stomach. “How bad?”
His back was covered with deep lacerations from the bite of a whip. They were hours old, and the blood had already begun to congeal. His wings were matted with the stuff. Tyria felt her eyes water as she counted the gashes. “Seven?”
Rye’s eyes were unfocused, and his breathing heavy. “I started screaming after two. I lost count after three.” His head slumped to the ground. “Breyr and one of his goons took turns.”
Tyria began unbuttoning her uniform, noticing glumly that it had acquired several new holes over the past week. “Shh. Just rest. It’s over.”
“For now.” Rye’s face twisted in anger, before settling back into determined frostiness. “But I can take it. I can take anything he throws at me. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of breaking. Not going to…” He trailed off into quiet muttering.
With her khaki uniform off, Tyria removed her white undershirt. She placed a hoof inside and grasped the hem with her mouth, then pulled as hard as she could. The fabric ripped along the stitching. “This is going to hurt a bit.”
Rye nodded wearily. He pushed himself up an inch from the ground. Tyria slid the shirt underneath him, trying her best not to touch him. “Okay, hold still.” She pulled the cloth around and over his back and wings, cringing as it draped across his wounds. There was only enough cloth to wrap him once. She pulled the fabric tight, drawing a little squeak of pain from him, and tied it off.
The white fabric was soon stained red, but Rye didn’t seem to care. “Got my robes?”
“Yes.” She brought them over to him, sitting beside his unmoving body. “Need something from the pockets?”
“Pillow.” Rye motioned to her.
Tyria smiled despite herself. She rolled the yellow robes up and slid them under his head. Rye exhaled. “Thanks.”
Feeling miserable, Tyria watched the bloodstains spread on the makeshift gauze. “I’m sorry, Rye.”
“Don’t be.” Rye closed his eyes, breathing shallowly. “This is between me and him.”
“They’ve been going at you for three days, and I’m trapped in here, doing nothing—” she faltered. “I just… I hate feeling this helpless. Can I help you somehow?”
“You are helping.” Rye’s eyes blinked open, and he smiled. “You’re giving me something to count on. A little hope goes a long way.” He shifted and winced as the cloth brushed over his back. “Of course, finding a way out of here would be great, too.”
“No luck so far.” Tyria shook her head. “We might be able to break the bars if we buck hard enough, but it would make enough noise to bring the whole camp down on us. Even if we could somehow sneak out, I’m not sure where we’d go. We’re on an island somewhere in the Carriagibbean, but I haven’t a clue which. It’s probably one of the little ones the mapmakers don’t even bother naming. I’ll… I’ll keep trying.”
Rye nodded in acceptance. “I’ll just have to stay alive as long as I can, to spite him.”
And how long will that be? Tyria lay down and curled up, dreading the next day.
* * *
Rye woke feeling stiff. Over the past few days he’d been beaten, whipped, and humiliated, but the future promised even worse. Breyr had hinted that he was going to start breaking bones next, one by one.
Screw him. If he thinks I’ll give him the satisfaction of breaking my spirit, he’s sorely mistaken. He inhaled the humid jungle air, gathering his wits for the day to come. If he was lucky, he would have a few hours before the thugs showed up.
He wasn’t lucky. He had barely been awake for ten minutes before the sound of hooves on the jungle dirt alerted him to the approach of a guard. Tyria, already awake, looked pale and drawn.
Rye sat up, dull pain radiating through his back. “How many?”
“One.” Tyria swallowed, then abruptly leaned forward and hugged him around the neck. “Just hang on, okay?”
“I will.” Rye hugged her back, wishing for one brief moment that he would not have to let go.
The zebra knocked on the cage. “Not interrupting, am I?”
Rye closed his eyes and sighed. “Let’s get this over with.” He stood shakily.
The zebra snorted. “Not today.” He dumped a bundle of cloth through the bars. “Viridian sends his regards.”
Tyria grabbed the bundle and unwrapped it. There was an entire loaf of bread, a flask of water, and a bottle filled with something liquid. She looked up at the zebra. “What’s going on?”
“The boss has decided to give you a day off. Get your strength up. You’ll need it.” The zebra softened. “That bottle has some ointment for your cuts.”
Rye gave him a wary look. “Why?”
“Boss doesn’t want to kill you for a long, long time.” The pirate shook his head. “What’d you do to make him so mad?”
“I outed him for betraying his kinsponies, his vassals, and his servants.” Rye stared intently at the pirate. “He’s a pathological traitor. He’ll turn on all of you too, eventually.”
The zebra’s sympathy vanished instantly. “Bah. Thanks to Viridian, we’re getting nice and fat on sugar and gold. He’s the best leader we’ve ever had. If you think I’m gonna take your word over his, you’re an idiot.” The zebra left, shaking his head.
Rye sat down, relief sweeping through him. This reprieve would make tomorrow even worse by comparison, but the thought of a day without pain made him feel feathery and lightheaded.
With Tyria’s help, he applied the ointment to the jagged cuts on his back. They tied the gauze tightly over them, and he sighed at the cool touch of the liquid. “Thanks.” He grimaced. “Think they’re going to scar?”
“Those were pretty deep.” Tyria swallowed. “I’m afraid so.”
“It’s okay. I hear mares think scars are exotic.” He grinned at her.
Tyria smiled back. “Some of us.”
Rye took a drink from the flask, enjoying the lukewarm water as it poured down his parched throat. He passed it to Tyria. While she drank, he watched her mane drift in the wind. Even covered in dirt and sweat, she looked beautiful. He tapped his hooves together. “Tyria…” I think I’m in love with you.
She put down the flask. “Hm?”
Not the time, Rye. “Uh… have, uh, have you thought of an escape plan, yet?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“No worries. I’m sure you will.” Rye bit into the bread. “They’re not guarding you as closely as me. If you see an opportunity, take it. Don’t worry about me.”
“I’m not going to leave you behind, Rye,” she said firmly. “We get out of here together, or not at all.”
“Thank you,” he said, giving her a simple smile.
They finished breakfast, and Rye laid back down to rest. “I wonder what he’s going to do tomorrow. Something with fire, I bet.”
Tyria shivered. “Don’t be so morbid. Let’s talk about something else.” She poked his robes. “Why don’t you tell me the rest of that story?”
“All right.” Rye shifted to get comfortable on the makeshift pillow, and launched back into the tale. He told her about meeting the northern warrior Eberhardt, and their journey back to the hall of Saddlestead. He described the trek through the wilderness on a quest to the roof of the world, and the guardian they found there. As the sun sank in the sky, he reached the part of the story involving Breyr.
“The Nordponies were rough and dangerous. When I met Breyr, he seemed instantly different. He was cultured, urbane, and direct. I liked him as soon as we met. I spent days speaking with the nobles, trying to find a suitable candidate for the throne, and Breyr was always at my side, helping me choose.
“I trusted him, completely. I thought I’d found an ally in the messy web of northern politics. And then, the night before the decision, he betrayed me.” Rye’s eyes burned with remembered anger. “He betrayed us all. Braki and Erik were killed by his assassins. My friends and I nearly followed them. We barely escaped, fleeing into the wilderness.”
Tyria scratched a hoof through the dirt. “Sounds like it still hurts.”
“It does.” Rye shook his head. “I let him get under my skin. I thought he was a friend, someone I could trust—and he stabbed me in the back. Literally. It was a good thing I was wearing armor when his hired blade came after me.” He stamped a hoof on the ground. “Treacherous snake.”
Tyria looked sadly at his bandages. “Those aren’t the first scars he’s given you.”
“No.” Rye turned his eyes down. “I suppose not.”
It was getting dark out. Rye lay back down to get some sleep before the next day of Breyr’s vengeance. He stared at the flickering campfire beyond the bars. Behind him, Tyria rolled up the cloth from breakfast, their only meal that day. She would likely need the cloth for more bandages soon.
To his happy surprise, she lay down beside him, nestled up against his bandages. She laid a hoof over his back, making sure they were still wrapped tightly. Her voice quiet, she asked, “Are you afraid?”
Rye swallowed. “Yes.”
Tyria left the bandages and nuzzled up against his neck. “Be strong. I’m here for you.”
“I know.” He closed his eyes and nuzzled her back. Laying his head down, he waited for sleep to come.
* * *
Tyria’s dreams were shattered by the knocking of a hoof on the hard bamboo bars of their cage. A party of six zebras was waiting outside. At the center of their group stood Viridian himself. He had a dangerous smile on his face. Tyria felt her stomach drop. If he’d come himself, then this was going to be ugly.
Beside her, Rye’s eyes flicked open. He raised his head defiantly. “Morning, viper.”
Viridian’s smile broadened. “Good morning, Rye. I’ve got something special for you, today.”
“I can’t wait.” Rye stood, his legs quivering. Tyria helped him up, her heart sinking.
“We’re going to take a trip down to the beach. You, me, my guards, and your friend here.” Viridian nodded to the zebra on his right, who unlocked the door.
Rye stiffened. “Tyria?”
Tyria whispered in his ear, “I’ll be fine. Don’t let him get to you.”
Viridian nodded. “Oh, yes. Today is all about Miss Metrel, here.” Tyria’s stomach fell another inch.
For a moment, Rye looked as if he would refuse to move, but then the zebras came into the cell and pulled them out. They were marched away, through the camp and into the jungle. They passed colorful flowers and countless vibrant animals. The jungle was primal, beautiful, filled with life and color. The black and white stripes of the zebras stood in stark contrast to the brilliant foliage.
At last they arrived at the beach. Another ship had joined those anchored in the cove. Pirates were ferrying crates and barrels between the ships and the shore. Tyria scanned the area, trying to figure out why Viridian had brought them here.
They stopped a short distance from the shallows. Viridian held up a hoof, and the little party came to a halt. He turned to face the Equestrians, still wearing that unfriendly smile. “Zin, would you please get the items we discussed?”
One of the zebras nodded. “On it, boss.” He took off galloping toward one of the shacks that stood on the jungle’s edge.
“Miss Metrel, won’t you join me?”
Tyria held her head high and walked up to Viridian’s side. He looked out over the cove. “See the ship to the far right?”
“Yes.” Her voice was ice-cold.
“That’s the Nightingale, the ship you arrived on. Captain Zevan is leaving in three days, to intercept a merchant vessel from Antellucía that will be passing through the Serpent Archipelago on its way to Zyre.”
“And?” Tyria glanced sideways at him.
“Sadly, a great number of our members are currently tied up at sea. Zevan needs more crewmembers if he’s going to pull off the raid.” Viridian turned to her and tilted his head back. “So I have reconsidered your offer.”
Behind them, Rye made a noise of surprise. “What offer?”
Viridian’s smile widened to include his teeth. “Miss Metrel has offered me her services in exchange for freedom.”
Tyria’s heart leapt. This was what they’d been waiting for, a chance for her to get out of that cage and find them an escape route. She turned to Rye, trying not to smile with excitement. He snorted. “I’m sure. And you’re the rightful king of Sleipnord, right?”
“Don’t take my word for it.” Viridian gestured to Tyria, still wearing that awful grin. “Ask her yourself.”
Wait, Rye—I don’t actually want to join them, I’m just…
Rye’s confidence visibly weakened. He looked at Tyria. “Is… is it true?” His voice wavered.
I can’t say no in front of the pirates, we’ll lose our chance. She swallowed. “Yes.”
The defiant fire in his eyes suddenly went out. His mouth opened slightly, and his ears drooped.
Viridian cleared his throat. “I was surprised, too. Any port in a storm, I suppose.” He hummed. “Which is why I need some proof of your loyalty. I can’t send Zevan out with somepony he doesn’t trust.” He looked up toward the jungle. “Ah, and here’s Zin.”
The zebra from earlier had returned. He was carrying a strange assortment of objects on his back. Tyria could make out a metal pot, a bag of coal, some logs, a long fire poker, and a green cloth. Zin trotted up to the group and dumped everything onto the sand.
Viridian nodded. “Get the fire going.”
The pirates turned the metal pot upright and threw the coal and logs inside. One of them produced a flint and tinder, and soon the logs were blackening as flames rose. Viridian yawned, giving the cove an idle glance.
Tyria tried to catch Rye’s eye, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the fire, his face unreadable. Rye, please. You said take the opportunity, remember?
When the fire had grown hot enough that she could feel it from a meter away, Viridian clapped his hooves. “That’s enough.”
He reached down and picked up the fire poker. Tyria looked at it and realized she had identified it incorrectly. The tip was not sharp, but flattened into the distinct frame-pattern of a skull with a snake crawling from the eye socket. Viridian tapped it once, and then stuck the flat end into the fire. He let it sit in the coals, turning it idly with his hoof.
“As I lay awake last night, wondering what to do with Rye today and how you might demonstrate your commitment, it hit me. Why not kill two birds with one stone?” He motioned to his guards. The zebras grabbed Rye, drawing a gasp of pain as they brushed against his bandages. They forced him to the ground, splaying his legs out and holding them down. Viridian held a hoof toward the branding iron and looked at Tyria. “If you would be so kind?”
Tyria’s lips felt as dry as the Saladi desert. “I—I don’t—”
“It’s not complicated, Tyria. Pull the brand out, and press it against his left shoulder, right here.” Viridian poked Rye right below the neck. “Easy.”
Rye twisted his head to look at her. “Tyria?” He had tears in his eyes. “Please.”
She felt a hollow pain in her chest. This is the only chance we’re going to get. If I don’t, Viridian will kill me, and do it anyway. She hesitantly reached forward and grasped the end of the branding iron in her mouth.
“Tyria! Please!” Tears were running down Rye’s face, now. “Please…”
I can’t do this. She was shaking. Please, Celestia, don’t make me do this.
Viridian raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps I misjudged you. I’ll have to think of something else, then. Hmm… Maybe we’ll stick his face in the fire, give him a scar to match his famous mother’s.”
If she didn’t convince them, they were going to kill Rye slowly and painfully. She had to get them out. And the only way…
Tyria stepped toward him. Rye closed his eyes, and dropped his head into the sand. He was trembling. Viridian said, “Remember, press it firmly against the skin, or you’ll only burn the hair. We want a permanent mark.”
Forgive me. Tyria clenched her teeth around the handle and brought the iron against Rye’s shoulder.
He screamed. The sound cracked her heart in half. She felt tears on her cheeks. She held the iron there for an eternal moment, her mind numb. At last, she pulled the brand away, and it dropped to the sand, hissing. The smell of burnt hair hung heavy in the air.
Tyria stared at the black mark of the skull and snake now branded on Rye’s shoulder, just above the bandages she’d so carefully wrapped the day before.
I did that to him.
“Excellent work.” Viridian clapped his hooves together. He reached down and lifted the green cloth that Zin had brought. “Here you go, Miss Metrel. It’s my pleasure to welcome you to the Pit Vipers. You are free to spend your remaining leave as you wish, but report to Zevan by Wednesday morning.”
He wrapped it around Tyria’s head, tying the bandana tightly. Tyria didn’t move to stop or help him. She just stared at nothing, feeling hollow. Viridian stepped away. “All right. That was plenty for today, I think. Take him back to his cell.”
The guards lifted Rye’s motionless body, and hauled him away. Viridian smiled broadly at Tyria. “If you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to. Enjoy your afternoon, Miss Metrel.” He left her, making his way back into the jungle.
Tyria stood on the beach, alone, watching the iron cool in the sand.
“I trusted him, completely. I let him get under my skin. I thought he was a friend, someone I could trust—and he stabbed me in the back.”
She sank to her haunches in the sand and wept.
* * *
Eventually, she had to move. She couldn’t bear staying in that place any longer. Throughout the afternoon, she wandered through the camp, putting together a mental map of any possible escape routes. The island was not especially large; it only took her an hour and a half to walk completely around the shore and end up back in the cove.
No obvious way out appeared. Security wasn’t very tight, as the pirates were an undisciplined bunch, but there was simply nowhere to go. She could see more islands far off on the horizon, and surmised that they were somewhere in the Serpent Archipelago, but without seeing a map she had no idea which way to travel if they were going to make it back to Zyre.
And then there was the matter of actually springing Rye. Tyria didn’t think she could break open the cage without attracting attention. Their best bet was for her to find the key.
She found the bar, the most solid-looking building on the island, and pushed her way past the door curtain. Inside, dozens of green-wearing zebras were chatting, playing cards, doing knife tricks, and above all, drinking.
Tyria sat down at one of the tables closest to the bar. It was already occupied by a trio of zebras. “Mind if I join you?”
“Sure.” One of the zebras pulled out a deck of cards and dropped it on the table. “We were just about to play a few hooves of seasail. You in?”
Tyria held up her hooves. “I haven’t got anything to bet.”
One of the zebras grinned. “Oh, I can think of something.”
The zebra sitting beside him elbowed him. “Grow up, Zad.”
Zad laughed. “Just kidding, just kidding.” He rubbed his shoulder. “Here.” He threw down a few coins. “That’s enough to buy in.” His grin widened. “I’ll get them back by the end of the game.”
“We’ll see.” Tyria smiled thinly.
The zebra to her right began dealing the cards. “We don’t see many ponies around here. You new?”
“Yeah.” Tyria felt her stomach turn. “Just joined up recently.”
“Well, welcome to the Pit Vipers.” Zad slid his cards to the edge of the table and looked at them. He turned back up with a smile. “I’m Zad, this is Zibben, and that’s Lem.”
Lem held up a hoof. “Before you ask, my mother was from Equestria.”
Tyria forced a laugh, and looked at her cards. She had a terrible hoof; three twos, a four, and a six. In seasail, the object was to get as many sequential cards as you could without their sum going over thirty-three. There were variants that took suit and color into account, but the vanilla game was by far the most popular. She’d picked up the rules after years of living in Zyre.
They chatted while they played. Tyria barely managed to stay in the game, nearly losing all her money when one of the zebras got a one-to-five row, and again when she traded in a five and got back a Queen that put her at thirty-six. She held on with a single bit and kept playing. More important than the game was the conversation. Tyria played the role of the eager rookie, asking the zebras all about the Pit Vipers.
Delighted to talk with a friendly female, they told her everything she wanted to know. Shifts and work details; the names of the captains, their ships, and their most infamous acts of piracy; and most importantly, about the jail.
“Yeah, don’t piss off old Zivvit. He’ll lock you in one of those cages on the other side of camp.” Zad shuffled the deck for a new hoof. “He’s the meanest zebra I’ve ever met.”
“Where’s he live?” Tyria tried her best to sound curious instead of desperate.
“Real close to the cages. Last house on the left as you walk through the living area.” Zad dealt the cards.
Tyria looked at her cards, her mind spinning. She had to get that zebra’s keys.
“Hey, Tyria. You staying or folding?”
“Uh, sorry.” She blinked. “All in.” She pushed her coins to the center of the table.
Zibben raised an eyebrow. “Too rich for me.” He pushed his cards forward.
Lem shook his head. “Nope.”
“Hm.” Zad smiled. “I think I’m about to get my money back.” He pushed all his coins up to Tyria’s.
They showed their cards. Tyria had a two-three pair and three trash cards. Zad had a three-to-six row and a two.
He grinned as he collected the pot. “Sorry, Tyria. You’ve got a tell. The corner of your mouth twitches when you lie.”
She forced another laugh. “Well, I guess I’m done. Thanks for the game, boys.” They waved goodbye as she left the building.
Tyria immediately headed for the compound. It was dark out by the time she arrived. She went around the back of the buildings, finding the last hut on the left like Zad had told her. Holding her breath, she snuck around to the front and pushed her way inside.
The building was empty, to her relief. She wasted no time, digging through the piles of junk that filled the small hut, looking for the keys. At last, she found them lying half-buried in a stack of parchment on the table. She pulled the ring of keys out and looked at them. Most of the keys were rusty and old, but one had been scraped clean by recent use. It had to be the one she was looking for.
Poking her head out first to make sure nopony was around, she crept out of the building and made her way to the cages. It was difficult to see anything in the darkness, but she caught a glimpse of yellow in the faint glow of the firelight behind her.
Rye was lying inside. He’d put his robes on. Tyria felt a wave of guilt, threatening to drown her, but pushed it aside for later. Sneaking up to the cage, she found the key, and stuck it into the lock. Rye looked up at the rattling noise. She poked her head through one of the gaps in the bars, and whispered, “It’s me, Rye. I’m getting you out. We’ll get down to the beach and steal a ship, and get to one of the surrounding islands. That’s as far as I’ve gotten with the plan, but we have to go while we’ve got the chance.” She fiddled with the lock for a few more moments, before it came off and landed in the dirt with a muffled thump.
“Come on, let’s go.” She opened the door and waited.
Slowly, Rye stood. Tyria looked briefly back over her shoulder, in panic. “Hurry up. I don’t know how long it’ll be before someone comes to check on you.”
Rye stared wordlessly at her, then slowly and deliberately turned around. He walked to the far corner of the cage and laid down. He curled up sideways and buried his head in the yellow fabric.
Tyria felt the shame and horror come rushing back. “Rye… Goddess, Rye, I’m sorry. I… I didn’t have a choice, I… I couldn’t…” She bent her head. “Dammit, Rye, I couldn’t just let them kill you piece by piece! This was the only way I could…” Her words sounded hollow to her own ears. “I’m sorry…”
“I’m sorry, too.” Rye didn’t look at her.
She hung her head. Suddenly, she caught the sound of hooves. Tyria jerked upright in alarm. “Somepony’s coming. I—I’m going to relock the cage. They can’t know I have the keys, or we’ll never get out of here.” She raised a hoof toward him, then lowered it. “I’ll be back for you.”
He gave no response.
Feeling like her heart had been replaced with a lump of lead, Tyria shut the cage door and replaced the padlock. She pulled herself away and ran.
Making it to safety behind the jailkeeper’s hut, she fell back against the wall, her chest shaking. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. Can he forgive me? I’m not sure I could, if I were him.
There was a soft clapping noise from her left. Tyria looked up to see a shadowy figure emerging from the darkness. Her wet eyes narrowed. “Viridian.”
Viridian was smiling. “Hello, Miss Metrel. Did you and Rye have a nice chat?” He slowly walked past her, sighing with delight. “I think I’ll leave him alone for a few days. After all,” he said, looking back at her with his chilling blue eyes, “not all torture is physical.”
Viridian made to walk around the hut, but paused. “Oh, and make sure to return the key before you leave with Zevan.” Then he was gone.
Tyria curled up tight in a ball of guilt and self-loathing. Viridian had played her like a fiddle. With her help, he had cut Rye more deeply than any lash ever could. And I gave him the idea. She closed her eyes, shaking.
Fire burned within her, and her face twisted with anger. It’s personal, now. We are getting off this island. And I swear by the sun and moon that I’ll kill you, Viridian.