Gild (The Plated Prisoner Series Book 1), Raven Kennedy [good books to read TXT] 📗

I bite my tongue so hard that the taste of copper drips against my cheek. I hold it there, crush it between my teeth, biting, biting.

When we get closer to the ships, the heat from the rows of fire claws chips away at the fierce chill of the night, but it doesn’t warm me. Doesn’t hold a lick of comfort.

I search the guards, seeking past the swarming pirates, but I don’t see the face I’m searching for. I don’t see Digby.

A gruff pirate sees us approaching and cuts over to us. “Another saddle?” he asks, looking me over. “Bring her over there.” He jerks his head to the left, and my head turns in the direction. The saddles are there, lined up, a group of pirates looking them over, leering, touching. Rosh, the male saddle, gets shoved onto his knees, the pirates mocking him, spitting on him. His blond head hangs down.

I whip my head back around. “Sail.” My voice cuts off, because I’m already being dragged away, while the pirates holding him head in another direction.

“It’ll be okay,” he promises, but even in my state of shock, I can hear the lie tremble from his lips.

“Sail!” His name is a cry. Panic expanding, bursting all at once. “Sail!” I scream again, struggling against the man who holds me.

Nothing. My struggles do nothing. Even if it did, even if I managed to break away from him, there are hundreds more to grab hold of me.

“It’s okay,” Sail calls, voice tight, face agonized. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

His repeated reply sounds like a plea.

I’m wrenched away, Sail torn from my line of vision as I’m shoved toward the twelve other saddles. I get lined up with them in front of the largest ship, dozens of fire claws at our backs, their paws of red bringing steam from the snow, a haze turning the ground ruddy with temper.

When I’m put in line at the end of the other saddles, I face forward, my back to the ship, and I see Sail being dragged across the way, where he’s shoved onto his knees in the snow, next to the other guards who are still alive.

The pirate leading him sends a crushing kick to his side, ensuring he stays down. But even as Sail coughs and clenches his arms around his middle, he keeps his head up, keeps his eyes on me. Like he wants to make sure he doesn’t lose me, or that he wants to show me that I’m not alone.

At the sound of a whimper, I look to my left and realize it’s Polly trembling beside me, with tears running down her freckled face. She’s crying so hard that she’s having trouble breathing, her dress ripped in several places, the top bodice in pieces. And though her shaking hands try to hold the scraps together, it’s too ruined, her breasts nearly bare.

Anger rises in me, anger and despair. I quickly remove my coat and place it over her shoulders to help cover her. She flinches when I touch her and tries to smack my hand away, but when she sees that it’s me, the fight seeps out of her. “What are you doing?” she asks, the usual mocking bite from her tone absent.

I ignore her question and instead grab her arm and shove it through the arm of my coat before helping her arm through the other side. When her arms are in, I do up buttons, though my hands are shaking so hard that it takes me several tries just to get the top one done.

When she’s covered, she looks over at me, a harsh line slashed against her cheek, clearly marking where she’s been slapped. “Thanks,” she mumbles.

I nod, feeling the cold air bite at me more aggressively now, but bright side? At least I still have on my heavy wool dress and leggings. One look at the mostly naked guards is enough to make me grimace for them. If they don’t get out of the cold soon, they could go into hypothermic shock and be at risk of having frostbite.

“What are they going to do to us?” I ask, noting the pirates as they continue to work. A couple of them are watching over us, making sure we stay put, but aside from crying and whispering, none of the saddles dare to move.

A few people down the line from me, I can see Rissa speaking in low tones to the girl beside her. She’s one of the newer and youngest saddles here, and I still haven’t learned her name. She’s small and waiflike, with silky black hair and almond-shaped eyes, and right now, she looks petrified. Rissa catches my gaze, but her expression is grim despite the way she holds the girl’s hand, offering comfort.

Next to me, Polly gives a bitter laugh. “What do you think?” she answers. “They’re pirates. The Red Raids are known for being savage and brutal. No one else could survive out here in the Barrens. They’re going to use us up and then sell us off just like everything else they steal. And that’s if we’re lucky.”

My whole body trembles, and my hand comes up to grip my scar. I was terrified that night with King Fulke. But this? This is an entirely new level of fear. This is a different form of captivity.

One look at these pirates, and I’m certain that none of us want to be brought onto those ships.

But with the savage fire claws behind us and the vicious pirates all around, there’s nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. A leering voice inside of me tells me that this is my fault. That I should never have wished to leave the safety of my cage.

I’m a fool.

The bleakness of our reality slowly sinks in. Sinks deep as we stand there, shuddering in the cold. The snowfall hasn’t stopped and continues to drop in a slow, delicate descent, the flakes landing on shaking shoulders. Another burden to carry on our backs.

I’m not