The Enemy of the World Chapter 9 Walking by Izzy and Black Eye Sig

The most appropriate name to be evoked at that moment, Vallen Allond thought, was indeed that of Sszzaas, the God of Treachery. Or perhaps some God of Idiots.

He couldn't believe how foolish he had been. Captain Sig Black Eye, young commander of the ship Blind Dogfish, had ensnared them through the most basic of betrayals. While they slept in their makeshift quarters aboard the ship, they had been captured and subdued. There had been sentries, of course, and guard shifts, but those had proven ineffective. Artorius, the gigantic minotaur, had made a point of remaining awake until someone else took over for him, prowling back and forth around the closed doors of his snoring companions. Vallen himself, alongside Ellisa, had slept in armor, with swords at the foot of the bed and a dagger under his pillow. However, they hadn't anticipated how difficult it would be to fight on a swaying ship.

Vallen, despite his limited education (his letters were shaky, and he had only practiced a few phrases like "surrender" or "we are outnumbered"), was an intelligent man. It didn't take long for him to deduce that the attack had been orchestrated at the height of the ship's rocking, when the waves were at their roughest. The crew of the Blind Dogfish were seasoned sailors, well-versed in combat aboard a ship. Vallen thought about how, as pirates, this had been their life. Among sailors, the term "sea legs" was used to describe the movements of those accustomed to compensating for the ocean's sways. That skill had been absent in the brief fight that ensued.

Artorius had been ambushed by five men, managing to take down two before being brought to the ground. One sailor lay dead, though the remaining would survive. Kodai faced five others fiercely, proving the most successful: he severed one's hands and killed two more before being subdued. Vallen and Ellisa had the dubious honor of facing Sig Black Eye and his lover Izzy. Both were formidable fighters, as skilled as the adventurous couple themselves, and neither received a scratch in the skirmish. Sig, in ostentatious bravado, had made a point of striking Vallen with the hilt of his saber, producing painful bruises but no lasting damage. Vallen's greatest wound was to his pride, and he suspected that, despite Ellisa's claims of disdain for warrior glories, she too felt a longing for revenge.

But the most striking aspect of the encounter was the speed and silence with which it unfolded. Four members of the group had been caught off guard, still in their beds. Rufus, who had been seasick since the boat set sail, was taken down with a dagger in his chest as he woke. Gregor, Ashlen, and Nichaela, despite being awake, were ambushed with crossbows. And Gregor had died.

"They know too much about us," Vallen thought, trapped on deck as he watched the crew clean up the aftermath of the fight—including the bodies of his comrades. "They know far too much." Black Eye was aware that Gregor Vahn was a paladin of Thyatis and, therefore, virtually immortal. He even quoted a part of their conversation ("here's your wooden leg") from the tavern where they had met Balthazaar.

"Balthazaar," Vallen growled to himself.

However, the captain was listening and, with a laugh, called out, "Balthazaar! Indeed!" as he opened a door that led to the hold. "Join us, Balthazaar."

The old man was dragged from the hold by two sailors with a sour dose of respect. He walked with childlike steps, his gaze downward, avoiding the bitter stares directed at him. Suddenly, he received an aggressive hug from Black Eye, who squeezed him tightly. Balthazaar's shoulders slumped, his arms crossed defensively in front of him, and he chewed on his lower lip insistently.

"Balthazaar was our savior here!" Sig exclaimed, showcasing his big white teeth in a broad smile. "Our envoy of the gods, our avatar, our defending paladin." The pirate turned Balthazaar to face him, gripping his arms and looking him in the eyes, affecting emotion.

"May the Great Ocean die, Balthazaar. You are my god now." Another uproarious laugh followed. Balthazaar continued to stare at the deck floor, the sea, the railings—anything but the faces around him.

Izzy had lost interest in threatening Ellisa's neck, now busy shouting at the deckhands attending to the cleanup.

"Is there a reward for us?" Vallen spat, his saliva thick with blood. "Who is paying you for this?"

Sig Black Eye offered a half-laugh.

"Don't value yourself too highly, my dear Vallen Allond. I'm only interested in your treasures." Vallen struggled to keep his jaw from dropping open.

"You are real lighthouses! Swords, bows, arrows, armor, shields—everyone's delighted!"

Balthazaar attempted to sneak away but was pulled back by Sig.

"Our friend Balthazaar can see magical auras, you know?" There was so much triumph in his voice that Vallen's stomach churned. "That's a lot of magical equipment, even for a bunch of mercenaries."

"We are not—" Vallen began.

"Please!" Black Eye snorted. "Don't tell me you're heroes or, worst of all, adventurers. Anyone who kills for money is a mercenary—or a murderer." Vallen contemplated responding but realized he was trapped, in the dark of night, aboard a ship full of enemies, with two companions dead and one rendered unconscious. Trading insults with the pirate captain wouldn't help him, and he cursed his own pride. He had surrendered to the situation. There would be no miraculous escape or brilliant scheme. Sig Black Eye intended to leave them stranded on some remote island, letting them rot while he claimed all of the group's enchanted items in exchange for a small sum for Balthazaar and for taking him from Collen. But the adventurers were unaware of this, as the captain didn't divulge his plans, making no further bravado or underestimating them to prove his own superiority. Instead, he locked them in the hold and didn't unlock the door until two days later.

His eyes burned when, after two days of darkness, a sliver of light streamed in through the half-open door. They were hungry, their throats parched with thirst. "Let no one say I'm cruel," Sig Black Eye said as some sailors placed bowls of water and pieces of bread on the floor before the group.

"Untie us to eat," Vallen rasped, his voice hoarse from thirst. "You have mouths."

They bent down to lick the water from the bowls and pick at the hard bread. Only Masato and Artorius, stubbornly, refused to partake, choosing to continue suffering rather than humiliate themselves.

"Stop being idiots," Ellisa Thorn said, glancing up from her bowl. "We will need both strong ones to fight later."

Artorius reluctantly agreed, while Masato remained obstinate.

For two days, Ashlen had struggled against his bonds, twisting his wrists in a futile attempt to escape. All he achieved was raw skin, scraped against the rope. For two days, Artorius strained his muscles, but all he earned were wounds. For two days, everyone was roused by the gnawing of rats.

Sig Black Eye watched them eat and drink, the silence around him more pronounced than ever. At no point did his men leave his side. It was the longest the adventurers had seen him remain quiet. When they finished, there was not a crumb or drop of water left. The sailors removed the bowls.

"No, gentlemen," Black Eye resumed his jocular harangue. "Don't say I'm cruel." He crouched down beside Nichaela. "In fact," he said, "I can be very affectionate."

With one hand, he gently stroked Nichaela's hair. He threw his other arm around the half-elf, bringing his breath close to her face.

"Very affectionate."

Artorius let out a roar that prompted four sailors to rush to the hold to investigate. The minotaur's eyes burned, filled with small red veins. He forced his arms against the ropes, which dug painfully into his leather, his muscles straining to the point of rupture.

Sig Black Eye merely raised an eyebrow and chuckled, recognizing who the weak point of the group was.

"What's the matter? Does the Kingdom not promote merciful treatment of prisoners?" He licked Nichaela's face, only to have her turn away in disgust from his brandy-laden breath. Her eyes widened in fear, not of the pirate, but of what Artorius might do to himself.

The minotaur felt the urge to make the worst threats against Sig Black Eye. He wanted to swear to eat his heart, skin him alive, and strangle him with his intestines. He longed to beg Tauron for strength and hatred, but all he could do was scream. The adventurers had rarely seen Artorius like this; his behavior mirrored his appearance: a beast. He couldn't articulate the screams he emitted; he simply screamed until he could no longer breathe.

Sig's voice barely pierced through the chaos. "Shut him up."

As the captain stood and sauntered out of the hold, five men descended upon Artorius, beating him until he rolled onto the floorboards. They continued to kick his stomach until he vomited. In the end, a few of his teeth lay scattered on the deck. The ropes binding him were replaced with strong chains, leaving him stretched out, his large face pressed against the ground, only to awaken the next day when more bread and water arrived. But not for him.

"Bad behavior," Sig Black Eye remarked between large gulps of brandy.

They had been imprisoned for four days when the captain finally returned to see them. "A gift," he proclaimed with a flourish.

He tossed a balled-up bundle of fabric at Nichaela. Two sailors helped her to her feet. They untied her legs, and clumsily, she managed to unwrap the cloth, revealing a dress.

"For the fairest of ladies," Sig mocked, striking a gallant pose. "Better than that bag you wear, don't you think?"

Nichaela's clerical robes were not heavy, but they fell flat against her body, hiding her figure. The dress Sig had thrown at her was modest, the attire of a young woman of good breeding, designed to enhance femininity.