A Pirate's Love

Haste

Elenor's POV:

"I need to see him," I commanded, my voice firm and straightforward.

"You will do no such thing," my father responded, cutting the fat from his steak. He forked a piece into his mouth, chewing vigorously. Silence fell between us as I watched him eat. I had a plate in front of me, but I could not stomach it from watching the hangings. I felt sicker after watching the color drain from Jake's face and his body drop to the ground. The image of guards carrying him away by the shoulders stuck in my mind. I desperately pleaded with my father to tell me where they were taking him, yet I never received a response. He took a few more sloppy mouthfuls, then a large gulp of wine. "I have a medic looking after him. I want him fit for the trial," he said with his mother full. Surprised, I tried to comprehend his reasoning.

"When is his trial?" I asked, hoping to get a clue, anything at all.

"The day after tomorrow," he said, chewing some more. I pondered on the timing, thankful it wasn't any sooner. It would give me time to see him before more chaos ensued. "Where is Sam?" Father asked, snapping me out of my train of thought.

"He felt uneasy. I didn't want to force his presence," I lied. My father nodded, taking another bite. In reality, Sam had hopped on the back of the carriage that took Jake away, hoping to find where they were taking him. I never asked him to do so, yet he did it willingly. He told me he would report back to his location so I could see him. It was getting dark, and I secretly worried for Sam's safety.

"He's a good boy," Father said, smacking his lips. "I thought he would have more of a stomach for it." I glared at him, sickened that anyone could have a stomach for execution. "Oh my," he exaggeratedly said, noticing my annoyance. "That's not a pretty look on you, dear."

"You couldn't fathom what we have been through to get here, father. Don't expect us to 'stomach' something as hideous as what went on today," I bickered, sending a shocked expression across his face. "Excuse me, I am not in the mood for eating," I finished, rising to my feet. I tore away from my seat and promptly walked down the hall, up the stairs, and opened the door to my bedroom. As soon as I walked in, my window opened on its own, sending me into a fright. An arm climbed into my room, gripping onto the window sill. Soon after, Sam's face appeared, struggling to get inside. "Great heavens," I gasped as I quickly closed and locked my door, then rushed to help him inside. He scrambled through the window as I pulled him up by his arm. He brushed himself off, took a deep breath, and smiled softly.

"Thanks, that's a far fall," he joked, pointing his thumb behind his shoulder at the window.

"Why did you come through the window?" I asked, still shocked that he had climbed all that way.

"I– didn't want to be seen coming to your room," she struggled to get out.

"Do you have any news?" I asked, ignoring his comment. He blinked at me briefly, then parted his mouth to speak.

"He's at a small cottage by the bay. Another man in a carriage pulled up with a bag; I think he was a doctor," Sam said. "I remember the course to get there, but it's way out. We'll need at least a horse to get there if we want to make it tonight." I nodded to him, understanding. Thinking quickly, I walked over to my dresser and fiddled through the clothes, picking up the linen shirt I had worn. I cursed under my breath, unable to find the pair of trousers. I turned to Sam, who was staring at me with anticipation. "There are guards posted all around the cottage," he said with a worried eye. "We'll need something to get past them." I nodded, making a mental note of the situation.

"Could you lend me a pair of trousers so I can ride?" I asked quietly. He hesitated, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed, then nodded. He walked to the door slowly, unlocked it, and then peered around carefully outside before quickly slipping away. I briefly questioned his uncertainty but put it off as him being careful about returning to the cottage. He returned shortly, holding a folded pair of trousers in his hands.