Obey Your Captain

He gasped, jumping back over the threshold looking down at the basket in surprise, his head cocking to the side as if he wasn’t sure what he was looking at.

The guard dropped her suddenly, her feet only just catching herself with the help of the bars behind her back. She shoved him backwards, not wanting his body pressed against her a moment longer.

“She assaulted me! How did you get down here? Who are you?”

Baron approached, grasping Kaliyah’s wrist quickly and tugging her into his safety. “Captain Torlar, and you just touch what’s mine.”

“She threatened me, I was arresting her. Remove yourself from my prisoner.”

“Miss Warren is not your prisoner, Hackrin. She’s my guest.”

“Lord Neverember!”

“Release the Valet, there is no crime he commited.”

“He assaulted many guards, my Lord.”

“He was defending his home and employers. As Valet, he has every right to do so. Unlock the door.”

Whilst the guard did as he was ordered, Baron crouched before her, inspecting her jaw. “He bruised you,” he muttered, venom in his voice.

“It’s fine, Baron. I’m fine.” She wrenched from his hold, racing to Cormack. Her embrace almost knocking him to the floor. His ribs were stark against her chest. She felt every bone as he wrapped his arms around her. Most improper for his post but she couldn’t care less as she clutched the man that helped raise her.

“Miss, Kaliyah, I am fine, child. Have you found your mother?”

“Yes, she’s on Baron’s ship.”

“Good, good. Release me now, child.”

She tightened her grip, not wanting to release him. Her fingers pressed into his bony spine, her cheek pressed into his collarbone.

“Pouco, let go. Let’s get him out of here.”

Remembering where they still were, she pulled away, grasping his hand gently to pull him along the corridor, like she would as a child when wanting to show him something, or make sweet tarts.

She’d loved making sweet tarts with him. Welcoming her father home always warranted a tart or cake.

“Jeremiah has offered us rooms in his manor whilst we’re here. I’ve sent for your mother and sister to meet us there,” Baron informed them both as they reached the ground floor.

“I surely look a sight,” Cormack grumbled quietly.

“A bath will be drawn at the manor.”

Cormack hissed as soon as the door was flung open. His hand came up, shielding his eyes.

“I will ensure a thick drape is over your window until you are more used to daylight.”

“No, no need. I’ll soon grow accustomed again. As soon as I am at strength I will go back to serving your family, Miss.”

“Shush. I’ll have no speak of you serving my family. You are a friend.”

“I know nothing else, Miss. It would be my honour to keep serving the Warrens.”

“I won’t be a Warren for much longer, I am to be a Torlar.”

“Really?” he sounded more shocked than Kaliyah deemed warranted.

“Really. Honestly, the faith you possess,” she jested.

“I did not mean to sound so shocked. You just always told me you would never allow a man to take your name from you.”

“Well… I found one that deserves to replace my name.”

“Captain Torlar is a fine young man, miss. I’m pleased for you.”

“Father would have approved.”

“Indeed. I think he would, miss.”

Their conversation had led them to the Lord’s manor. The large four story structure in keeping with the rest of the affluent areas of the city with grey stone and white wooden beams peeking from the corners. A balcony wrapping from one side of the obsidian roof to the other on the fourth floor.

Blackwater never got its name from the colour of the water surrounding the city.

Baron stepped in ahead, leading them into the spacious entrance way and up the stairs. Turning left, he stopped at a door a little way down the corridor, a maid outside. “Will you draw a bath, please? And please show this gentleman to a room,” he ordered politely.

“Yes, sir.” She curtsied shallowly before turning, leading them to the end of the corridor, “This will be fine for the gentleman, I shall fetch a bath.” She gestured into a room.

Kaliyah opened the door and helped Cormack within, settling him on a chair near a crackling fire. “Thank you, miss. I’ll be fine from here, no need to fuss over me,” Cormack stated, waving her away.

“I’ll find some food. And a little ale would do you good.”

“Miss Kaliyah, you have done plenty for me, child. Please, I will be fine. Go greet your mother when she arrives.”

She hesitated, not wanting to leave him.

“Please, miss. I wish to look more presentable before your mother sees me, that includes getting out of these rags,” he convinced.

“I understand.” She wanted to go over to him, embrace him again, but she refrained, leaving the room to find Baron waiting for her. “Jeremiah is doing his enquiries, we will find the hand that wrote the documents.”

Kaliyah nodded, looking back to the room she’d just vacated.

“He’ll be fine, Pouco, a maid will care for him and get him well again.”

“I didn’t know… didn’t know prisoners were treated so terribly. H-how can… he did nothing!”

“You will make yourself unwell, please calm yourself.” His hand slipped to the back of her neck, “We will get your mother situated and then I think you need a good meal and a bath. We should have answers tomorrow.”

Her mind was spinning, she felt everything slipping away. Nothing was right. Nothing was how it should be!

Her mother hated her, Cormack was weak and unwell, her sister was scared. Her family was destitute and she had no idea if she could fix it. She’d never felt so out of control. So lost.

Her father would know what to do.

But she didn’t!