A fresh wave of the salty water hit Ivy's wooden crate, which had been her hiding place for several days and nights now.
The sea was rough. She was hungry, thirsty and longed for some sunlight. At night the pirates' ship was almost pitch black and with no sails they were at the mercy of the winds. She had little idea where they were, except that the wind had carried them eastwards towards the Isle of Skye. Belowdecks it was dark, stuffy and cold. Dare she go on deck, expose herself as a stowaway? Lord knows what they would do to her.
Ivy closed her eyes and thought of her life back in Blackrabbit, which seemed a long time ago now. Her father was a fisherman, and a good one at that. He'd taught her the trade from an early age. When Ivy was ten she had caught her first fish. He'd cooked it for her, wrapped in seaweed. "One day," he'd said, "you'll be the best fisherman on this sea.". Fat load of good that did her now. Her father had died in a storm. He had been fishing and a wave had smashed his boat, and he had drowned. It had taken her a year to move on from it. Now she had nothing, except for the clothes on her back. She was alone. The memory brought her a deep sadness.
She heard footsteps approaching the crate and she held her breath, praying she would not be found. "This is the only place she can be," said a voice that sounded vaguely familiar to Ivy. She'd been listening to it for the past few days. She had tried to get an idea of how many pirates were aboard, but to her dismay they didn't talk much when she could hear them. The voice was gruff. It had an accent.
"The captain's right," said a second voice. This one was much softer. "She's been in there a long time now. I think we should just toss her overboard."
"It's a girl!" the first voice boomed, causing Ivy to flinch. "Don't you understand? A girl! A woman! That means we have a chance. It's the perfect bargaining tool. She's worth a lot to us. It's worth a lot to you and me to keep her."
"Keep her and do what?" said the softer voice.
"Make her our hostage. If the prince ever finds out she's been kidnapped by pirates, he'll pay a fortune to get her back."
"What about her father?"
Ivy heard a sigh. "Dead. So he won't bother us. "If we have her, we can make the prince give us anything we want."
Ivy's eyes widened and she gripped the edges of the crate tightly.
The soft-spoken voice spoke again. "What makes you think she's going to be useful to us?"
"Do you really need to ask? The prince will want her back. And you know he won't stop until he gets her."
"Hang on, did you hear that?"
The other voice sighed. "Hear what?"
"The crate! It moved. It must be her!"
Ivy could hear footsteps approaching the crate, and her heart raced.
"Open it up!"
Ivy cowered back against the walls of the crate as the top was ripped open.
The sun was bright and it stung her eyes as she squinted, looking up into the faces of the two men standing over her. She shielded her eyes from the sun and found herself staring at a rugged face framed by long hair that was almost as white as the beard that covered his chin. She stared into eyes as green as hers.
"I-Ivy!" the old man said, and he smiled a toothless grin. "Well, well. What do we have here? A stowaway!"
Ivy blinked, too afraid to say anything. She had always been a shy girl, not much good at speaking to strangers. "I-I'm not a stowaway," she managed.
"You are a stowaway," the old man said. "But no matter. You are the one I was looking for."
Ivy had no idea what the old man was talking about. He didn't seem to be in his right mind. She was still staring at him when the younger of the two men knelt down and grabbed her by the arm. "Come with us," he said, and Ivy tried to resist, but the man's grip was tight, and he had strength in him she didn't.
He led her across the deck and towards the side of the ship. Ivy could see land ahead. It wasn't Scotland, though, or the Isle of Skye. This was an island that had never seen human habitation. There was a small beach, which was strewn with large, flat rocks. Beyond that was dense jungle. "No," she said. "Please, no." But the man ignored her and tossed her over the edge. She screamed as she plummeted into the icy sea. She tried to swim back up towards the surface, but the water was cold, and her limbs were stiff. She felt her strength slipping away.
She thought she was about to drown. But the surface suddenly rushed away from her and she found herself being dragged back up to the ship. They had tied a rope to her apparently.
The young man was smiling at her, and as soon as she had her feet on the deck again he took the rope and tied it around her. She was completely at his mercy now. He led her towards the rear of the ship and, with the old man's help, they pushed her into a large wooden crate. The door shut on Ivy and she was left in semi-darkness.
"Water", she croaked. "Please".
"You've got nothing to bargain with, lassy. What are you offering?" said the gruff voice of the captain. He sat back in his chair and stared out across the ocean.
The prince's ship was a speck on the horizon and had been for some time now. It would take days to reach it, the old man had told them. Plenty of time then.
"Tell you what, thirsty girl", said the captain "I'll give you some water in exchange for a piece of your clothing. Does that sound like a good deal to you?"
Ivy had no idea if the captain was being serious or not. Her clothes were wet and cold and she was freezing, so she didn't have the strength to resist. She opened the buttons on her shirt and pulled it away from her skin. "Here," she said, pushing it through the cracks of the crate. The old man took it and wrapped it in a ball, then placed it in the sea.
"You've earned yourself some fresh water, lass. Here ya go"
Ivy smiled, taking the bucket of fresh water and drinking it down. It tasted so good. She drained the bucket completely, then put it down.
"That was a good bargain, lassy," said the old man. He got up and placed his hand on the crate's lid, then looked at her. "You can call for more water anytime you want. You know the price now, though it might change, arararar", the pirate laughed and slammed the lid down. Ivy could hear him as he walked away.
The air was damp in the box, and it was dark. She wondered if the old man would come back. "Excuse me," she said after a while, but there was no answer. "Excuse me?" she said again, but there was no reply. "I need to go to the bathroom", she said, but there was no answer. She wanted to pee, but there was nothing she could do.
After a while her bladder hurt so much she couldn't bear it any longer. She wanted to go. She didn't care about the pirates, she just wanted to pee. But she couldn't, and it made her angry. It was humiliating. "Need a peeing pot, lass? It'll cost ya" she heard the old man's voice, and she suddenly realized he was standing there in front of her crate. She tried not to laugh. He was hilarious. "Let me out", she said.
"Out?" said the old man. "Why?"
"I want to go to the bathroom," she said. "It's urgent."
"Urgent? What's urgent about it, lass?" The pirate laughed.
"Please let me out," said Ivy. "It's urgent, I'm begging you."
The pirate looked at her, then shrugged. "Well, if you insist. Do hand over all your clothes first, so we know you won't try and run away from us"
Ivy felt her heart sink. This was humiliating. She didn't know what else to do, so she took off her shoes, and then her trousers and underwear, and put them all through the gaps. "Good!" said the captain. He didn't waste a second and tossed all her clothes overboard. The wind caught them for a few seconds, then they hit the sea and sank.
Ivy was angry, but there was nothing she could do. "You can pee now", the old man said. "There's nothing between you and the sea anymore. All you have to do is ask me, and I'll bring you water, lass."
