Juliet of Dundee

Count Yer Blessin's

Juliet of Dundee Chpt. 16

Pater

My eyes fluttered open for a moment then shut.

Open.

Wood panels. A gentle rocking.

Shut.

Darkness.

Open.

Darkness. Everything was dark accept a corner of the room that was illuminated by a minuscule candle.

Throb. Throb. Throb.

"Ach," I sneered as I attempted to raise my hand to my forehead. That's right, Stouts had knocked me out. That would explain the headache.

I picked myself off the hard floorboards and took a look around me. I found myself inside a small cabin with wooden panels an all sides. In the corner the candle flickered and gestured towards a porthole. Through the porthole glistened a beautiful beam of moonlight that shone towards the opposite direction of the candle towards a large hammock.

Slowly and lazily I made my way towards the hammock, my knees weak with exhaustion. Already I dreamed of a peaceful eternal sleep. Anything would be better than what I was going through now.

As I moved to lay in the hammock I noticed a certain weight on the sheet. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I squinted to see red strands of hair. I followed the strands to the face and saw the stranger there in my hammock.

They put us in a cell together.

Well that's bloody swell.

In that moment, the stranger began to stir. I backed away from her as quickly as I could and watched from the corner of my eye as she readjusted her position in the hanging sheet.

"He's my brother..."

With a flash the nightmare returned to me. I jumped away from the girl I'd once called Emmie, my heart racing and my breathing jagged.

If she had just told me - if she had just told me her real name, who her father was, then my feelings for her would have been avoided. To know that I'd fallen for the spawn of Satan pained me so much that just thinking about it made the heat of the small cabin intensify. But this girl before me wasn't Emmie, not the girl I'd come to have a liking for.

The temperature was bad enough as it was, but to turn red with frustration made it seem all the more disgusting. Beadlets of sweat began to gather at my hairline and drop down my forehead. I reached up to wipe away the droplets and felt a sting as I brushed my cheek with the back of my hand. I cringed at the sudden jolt of pain that rushed through my face.

That's when I remembered that the King had cut me. I held back tremors of fear when I though about the brute and the torture he'd put me through just for this day to come. The man was an evil genius the way he made everything fit together. He'd planned every last bit of the situation so perfectly - it was teriffying.

The room faded away as I remembered the last time I'd been on this ship...

"Where is it?" the snakelike voice wispered again as another searing pain was send down my back. Blood dripped steadily down from the wound onto the floor. I looked down to the the clotted blood from a few hours before. He'd been here a good hour this time, the longest session yet.

"I don't... know what you're talking about," I groaned as I shifted to the side. My eyes were heavy, my head spun. The Devil sneered at my reply as his blade was dug deeper into my back. The pain grew and grew until finally the world went black.

And what a blessing that had been.

I took another look around the room and caught sight of a chair in the far corner of the room.

Then it hit me.

"Tell me Pater, have you ever been to Dundee?"

Blood. Another tally mark. A new session.

"Shit..." I mumbled under my breath. "Agh!" I screamed as the monster twisted his blade. He pressed the knife deeper and deeper until I my vision blurred. I squirmed and tried to free myself from the shackles that bonded me to the chair.

My whole body began to quake as I stumbled backwards in terror.

This was the room.

I turned away from the chair and closed my eyes.

Just don't think about it!

I opened my eyes in a daze and found myself studying the sleeping stranger. Something about looking at her seemed to calm me I n all of the current hell. It was almost as if the stranger instilled some of my hope, even though she wasn't the person I'd known before.

She'd had a façade, but so had I.

That's when I knew that I needed to speak to her. When she awoke we could move past our differences and find a way out of this damn place.

Hesitantly I reached out towards her and found her hand.

You mean the world to me, whether you like it or not. Juliet, it's not your fault no matter what I say out loud. The only way we will get through this is together. Just promise me you'll be here, and I'll be here. Be my blessing and I'll be yours.

As I thought these words to myself and aimed to say them aloud some day, I gently laced my fingers with her's, kissed her forehead and backed away once more.

And I let go of her hand.