Within half an hour Captain Scarre had gathered together the entirety of her crew, and, though she requested that most return to the ship and remain there under the watchful eye of boatswain Henry, she asked Robert Browne, Reynard, and two other trusted sailors, George and Jack, to stay behind. These four―along with Irmene, who volunteered her assistance as soon as she heard that Adelard was in trouble―joined the captain in a small private room at the rear of the tavern. There she explained the circumstances the duke was facing as well as her plan to intervene, and the group determined their roles and then set about putting said plan into action.

 The seamen hired a horse-and-cart, Irmene gathered needed costuming, and Captain Scarre prepared the party for a potential altercation, then they jumped into the cart and raced out of Fermigon toward the highest hill north of the city. The captain explained each person’s duties to them once more, then the group sat in apprehensive silence, fervently hoping that Adelard’s rescue would go as smoothly as planned.

Adelard lay sprawled, unseeing, on the floor of the cart for what felt like an hour, then, suddenly, the vehicle came to an abrupt stop. He was grabbed by both arms and lifted roughly from the carriage, then was dragged up a set of steps and into a building so dark it turned his vantage point inside the hood into Stygian blackness. He was led down what felt like a long hallway, then brought into what seemed to be a very large room, as his captors’ footsteps echoed as they spurred him along. Finally, he was pushed to his knees onto a plush carpet, and one of the men said, "Here he is, M’lady, as you’d asked. ’Twasn’t too hard to get him, as he don’t seem the fightin’ sort. Hope he suits you. Should we let him see?"

"Please do," replied a woman’s voice, "but keep his arms bound until we’ve determined that he won’t try anything rash."

Adelard felt the hood lifted brusquely from his head, and, after his eyes had adjusted to his surroundings, he discovered that he was in a great gray windowless hall. The room was dimly lit, as the only source of light within were sconces spaced evenly throughout it, and each wall was decorated with lavish scarlet-hued tapestries. He was kneeling upon a soft red rug that stretched the length of the room; it culminated before an ornate chair situated only a few feet in front of him, upon which sat the person who had obviously orchestrated his kidnapping.

The woman might have been beautiful had she not seemed so cold and cruel, but, to Adelard’s eye, her shrewd gray eyes and slightly sneering mouth removed all traces of loveliness from her face. She appeared to be about fifty years old but was well-preserved for her age, for her skin was largely unlined and her raven-black tresses, which were piled atop her head, showed no hint of gray. She was clothed in a dress made of an expensive-looking scarlet fabric, and wore leather shoes encrusted with red jewels upon her feet.

She rose from her seat and approached the duke, and the louts who had captured him forced his head up so that he might look her in the eye. She stared at his face, and her expression changed from one of callous boredom to one of pleased admiration. "He’s even prettier to look upon up close. I think he’ll do quite nicely."

Adelard glared at her indignantly. "What do you mean, I’ll ’do quite nicely’? Who are you, and why have you had me brought here?"

The strange woman chuckled mirthlessly. "I was right in thinking you were no seaman, for I’ve never met one who spoke so properly! I wonder how you found yourself aboard a ship. That’s likely a tale I’d enjoy hearing." Adelard gazed coolly at her, refusing to offer a response, so she shrugged her shoulders and said, "Fine, it matters not," before returning to her throne.

Once seated, she resumed speaking. "You have asked who I am. My name is Baroness Margaret Malemayns, but most people in Fermigon simply call me ’the Baroness’ when they speak of me...and they do speak of me quite frequently." She let out a harsh laugh. "As for the reason I’ve brought you here―well, that is actually why the citizens of Fermigon speak of me as often as they do: I am rumored to steal beautiful young men from their town and to bring them to my home so that I might force them into servitude. There may be some truth to the rumors."

She cast Adelard a wink that made his blood boil, and, struggling to keep himself from lashing out and perhaps placing himself in further danger, he said, "Well, I’m not from Fermigon, and, although you’re correct that I’m no mariner, I nonetheless hold a very important role aboard the Silver Pearl and there’s no way Captain Scarre will allow me to go missing. I am certain that I shall be sought out and returned to my rightful place. You will regret having chosen me as your target."

"Oh no, I’m so afraid," the Baroness replied, voice dripping with sarcasm, then she hissed, "I have no fear of your captain, nor anyone else, for I have money and power and countless men who will do whatever I bid them to." She gestured at the men standing behind Adelard. "Your friends there are two of my kinder mercenaries, for they haven’t laid anyone to rest on my behalf...yet."

Satisfied that she had cowed him, for her words had caused the color to drain from Adelard’s face, the Baroness picked up a large bell and rang it persistently. Within minutes, a handsome man around the same age as the duke rushed into the room. He was clothed in an embroidered blue doublet, gray breeches, light-colored stockings, and soft leather shoes, and had well-kempt shoulder-length brown hair. He ran over to where the Baroness was seated, positioned himself to the left of her throne, and dipped into a slight bow. "Yes, Milady? What is it that you need of me?"

"Francis, the gentleman upon the carpet has been brought here to join my servants. I would like for you to take him to your quarters and to ready a bath for him there, for he has been traveling aboard a ship and so currently likely does not smell very good. After he has washed, have him try on some garments until you are able to find ones that fit him. These will be what he shall wear during his servitude."

"Yes, Milady," replied Francis, who then strode over to Adelard and, after his captors had loosed his arms, bent down to offer him help up from the floor. The duke initially refused it, but the manservant whispered, "It’s best not to fight, for if you do she’ll likely have the ruffians transport you to where she wants you to go. Walking there with me is far more pleasant." Adelard practically sprang to his feet upon hearing this, and he thought he saw the young man suppress a giggle before he took him by the arm and led him out of the room.

They entered a narrow passageway and, once they were out of the Baroness’s sight, the servant released Adelard’s arm so they could walk down it single-file. "I’m certain you won’t run off anywhere, so there’s no need for me to drag you along like a sullen child." He grinned over his shoulder at the duke. "The lady called me Francis, and ’tis my name, so you can use it if you’d like. I’m the new lad around these parts, just started here six months past. I’m sorry you’ve been made to come here, but it’s not too bad. I chose to work for the Baroness, for I’ve heard she only takes a year from you after you’ve been with her a year―"

"What?" Adelard came to a halt, and his eyes grew wide. "What do you mean, ’she only takes a year’?"

Francis turned to face him. "She takes years from those who serve her. She has you, erm, release yourself, she collects your seed, and then you’re one year older and she’s a bit younger. It’s how she’s stayed the same age for nigh on fifty years. Many of us choose to join her because she pays well and only expects ten years of servitude, and I figured I wouldn’t really need the ten additional years she’d take..." He trailed off, his expression sheepish. "I suppose I didn’t think things through much, but I’d just lost my ma when I decided to join up and, well, I reckoned I wouldn’t mind growing old faster without her." He spun on his heels and began walking again. "Come along now."

Adelard hurried to catch up with him. "So, you mean to tell me that the cruel woman holding me captive isn’t just going to force me into servitude, but is also going to insist upon stealing my life from me for ten years?"

"That’s about right, I’m afraid."

Adelard groaned. "Of course. Of all the circumstances to get into... Still, I needn’t worry, for Captain Scarre and the others will surely come to my rescue."

Francis cast him a look of pity. "Your captain probably doesn’t know where you’ve gone, and, even if folk come to save you, they likely won’t succeed in doing so. The Baroness has a lot of foul men willing to do evil deeds for her if she’ll pay the proper amount." He shook his head. "Anyway, we’re here," he continued, opening a door and leading Adelard into a modest bedchamber. A fire blazed in the fireplace within, and a kettle hung just above it. "You’re in luck, for I had just started some water for my own wash before I was summoned. It should be just about right for you to have a warm one now. That’ll get the filth off you."

"I am nowhere near filthy," the duke responded haughtily, "for I take the chance to wash whenever we go into port."

"Then you’re not like any sailor I’ve ever met. In truth, you cannot be a sailor, for I’ve never heard any speak as pretty as you do. Why were you on that boat anyway?"

"I’m an esteemed guest who has chosen to join the crew of the Silver Pearl on a very important journey. That is why they surely will not abandon me."

Francis shrugged, then used a cloth to lift the kettle off the fire and poured its contents into a tub large enough to stand in. Adelard took his time getting undressed, for the thought of being nude in front of someone he had just met made him uncomfortable, and he only stripped fully and entered the tub after Francis had left the room to fetch the garments he was meant to try on.

The duke used a rag to wash himself, and had just about finished when the manservant returned, arms full of clothing. He hastily stepped out of the tub and wiped himself dry with a piece of linen, making sure his back was turned to his companion as he did so, then quickly pulled on the first pair of breeches he had been handed, a soft brown pair. As they fortunately fit him well enough, he then set about trying on linen undershirts and stockings; once he had found appropriate ones, he tried on several doublets until he found a grass-green one that suited him.

He then allowed Francis to comb out his hair, and, once the manservant had finished, he took a step back from Adelard and looked him up and down. "Not bad! I think you might even be as handsome as I am. The Baroness does like her lovely young men. I guess we give her better life or something." Adelard rolled his eyes at this, but nonetheless thanked him for the compliment.

After he had placed his shoes back on, for Francis had none that would fit him, he allowed himself to be led back to the Baroness, who was waiting upon her throne. When she laid eyes upon Adelard, she smiled appreciatively. "My, you’ve cleaned up nicely. You shall make a welcome addition to my household."

The duke was about to issue an acidic retort when the smaller of the men who had captured him hurried into the room. "M’lady, Gerald and I was watchin’ the door, and this fancy ship captain walked up to us, demandin’ to be allowed entry. What shall I say?"

"Do let him in. This should be...amusing." The man ran back in the direction he had come from, and the Baroness turned to Adelard. "I take it this is your rescue party?" Adelard nodded proudly, and the woman lifted her bell and rang it once more. A manservant a bit older than Francis entered the chamber and approached the Baroness. She beckoned him to lean down toward her and, when he did, whispered something in his ear. The man nodded, then promptly headed down one of the passageways branching off of the room.

Soon Captain Scarre strode into the great hall, the pair of kidnappers trailing her. She cut an intimidating figure, and Adelard felt his heart flutter as she planted herself before the Baroness and fixed her gaze upon her. "I am Captain Syndalle Scarre, shipmaster of the Silver Pearl," she declared. "I have come to claim Adelard, the one you have stolen."

The Baroness smirked at her. "So, you’re Captain Scarre, then? My, this is an interesting surprise. I had no idea that the one I’d chosen was in the charge of a lady captain. You know, we’re not so different, you and I. We are each the mistresses of our domains, and men both fear and respect us."

"That is certainly the case for myself, but I doubt it is for you. I have never had to force any to work for me," replied Captain Scarre.

The Baroness’s face darkened momentarily, but the sly smile soon returned to her lips. "Lofty words from someone who won’t even show her face. You must take off your mask in my home, Syndalle Scarre."

"I’d really rather not. I haven’t come here to show off my features."

"Nonetheless, I insist. I am unwilling to negotiate with one whose expression I cannot read."

"Fine." Captain Scarre sighed and pulled off her mask, letting it fall to the floor. "Are you now satisfied?"

Francis, who was stationed next to Adelard, elbowed him in the ribs. "You’re sailing with her?" he whispered. "No wonder you were so eager to return to your captain."

"It’s not like that," Adelard hissed, but he felt his face flushing and focused his attention on the confrontation before him.

The Baroness had risen from her seat. "Come toward me," she told the captain. "I’d like to see you better."

"Why don’t you come to me, then?" Syndalle Scarre replied, right hand resting near the hilt of her sword.

The Baroness stepped forward until she was a few feet from the captain. "I can see you well enough from here. I’d like to avoid your reaching me with that thing you’re ready to draw." She chuckled briefly, then continued, "Now, let us discuss my recent acquisition, for he is the reason you’re here, after all. I gather from his speech that Adelard is no seaman, and I gather, from the way he looked at you when you walked into the room, that he is not part of your crew. Why is it that you need him returned to you so badly? I could offer you generous compensation should you allow him to stay with me."

Syndalle Scarre stood stiff and resolute. "Nothing you could give me is worth more than the life of my friend. He’s a very important passenger aboard my ship, and I must ensure he returns home safely at our journey’s end. I am not leaving here without him."

"Well, then, if you won’t let me have him, perhaps you might offer me one of your crew in his stead? I’m sure you have a handsome young seaman you could exchange for him."

"I am unwilling to force any of my men to serve the likes of you, for I know what you’d require of him. I am open to offering you goods or gold to have Adelard safely returned to me, but will not offer you a person as if they were something I had the right to give."

"That’s too bad," said the Baroness. "I guess that, if you’re so set on not leaving without your friend, you’ll just have to stay here while he serves me."

"I most certainly will not," replied the captain, a trace of unease creeping into her voice. "I am more than prepared to fight for him if need be."

"That’s good, because you’re going to need to. I’d been hoping I’d not need to resort to this, but..."

The Baroness snapped her fingers, and four strong men armed with swords swarmed out of the passage the manservant had exited into. They charged toward Captain Scarre, who had drawn her own sword and held it at ready, and joined Adelard’s kidnappers in creating a circle around her.

As she glanced at each man, uncertain of who might strike first, the Baroness laughed. "My, my, it looks like I’ve placed you in quite the predicament. I have no doubt you’re quite a strong fighter, but do you really believe you can take on six men at a time and escape unscathed? You are likely to die should you try to take my mercenaries out, and, if you kill even one of them before you pass, I will make sure that I drain your friend four times per year rather than merely the once; my other servants should take no issue with being spared the loss, and I shall ensure Adelard dies an old man by the time he reaches thirty-five." She waved a hand flippantly. "Or you can concede defeat and allow me to imprison you until I determine what I shall do with you, and spare both him and yourself a worse fate. The choice is yours."

Captain Scarre looked over at Adelard, who had grown pale upon hearing the Baroness’s words, then sheathed her sword and bowed her head in defeat. "If you promise that you shall not cause him the harm you’ve threatened, I shall surrender."

"No, Syndalle!" cried the duke, and unthinking, he rushed over to the circle and pushed through it to reach her. The Baroness stayed the men, and Adelard grabbed the captain by both arms. "Don’t let her take you, Syndalle. I’m not worth the sacrifice. I’ll be no more unhappy here than I was before I boarded the Pearl. Leave me behind and tell my uncle I’ve found a better life for myself. You don’t need to do this."

"Yes, I do," Captain Scarre said gently. "I have no doubt that we shall both prevail as long as I do what is needed to ensure your safety." She pulled him into a tight embrace, and whispered, "Irmene and the others have plans to get us out of here. As I will be locked away and it’s likely you will not be, do everything within your power to ensure they succeed." She released him, then told the Baroness, "I am ready to give myself over."

The Baroness snapped her fingers, and the two largest mercenaries grabbed hold of the captain. "Take her to the room in the West passage and make sure she’s secured within." The men nodded, then dragged Captain Scarre down the passageway opposite the one Adelard had taken before.

The cruel woman turned to the duke. "I guess you shall have to stay with me now," she said, "for, should you try to escape, I shall make her disappear as I have the beloveds of so many others." She then beckoned to Francis, who took a knee before her. "You shall show Adelard to his bedchamber, and shall afterward take over watching the prisoner’s door, for the men currently doing so must go on watch outside as the night falls."

"Yes, Milady," Francis replied, although he wore a pained expression. He walked over to the duke, took him by the arm, and brought him down the hallway they had gone down earlier. After about a minute he declared, "Here’s your room," and opened a door to reveal a Spartan chamber similar to his own. "There’s not much in it now, but I can get you whatever you need to make it comfortable." He turned to Adelard, pity in his eyes. "I’m sorry your captain has been imprisoned, but, like I’d said, it does not pay to trifle with the Baroness. It doesn’t usually end well."

"Francis―you’re in charge of keeping watch over her door, right? Well, would I be able to speak with her a few minutes before we resign ourselves to our respective fates? There is something I must tell her."

Francis looked uncertain, then said, "I suppose there’s no harm in your doing so, as long as the Baroness doesn’t find out."

"Thank you, friend!" cried Adelard, vigorously shaking the man’s hand.

Francis led the duke back down the passage, peered around the doorway, and said, "We’re in luck. The Baroness has gone to her chambers. We won’t have to worry about her catching me letting you into your Captain’s room." The duo ran across the great hall, then Francis had Adelard wait near the entrance to the West passage while he went to relieve those on guard. Once they had exited the hallway, he gestured at the duke to come and join him. "I shall let you in now, but only for a bit." He grinned shyly. "Do you mind...putting in a good word with Captain Scarre for me? I’d love it if she was made aware of my helping you so that I might be in her good graces." Although Adelard felt a twinge of jealousy regarding the man’s obvious attraction toward the captain, he realized that it might be used to assist in their escape, so he told Francis that he would certainly let her know how he had helped, and the manservant eagerly let him into the room.

Captain Scarre was sitting on a bed in a large room that featured even less comforts than the one Adelard had been given. She stood as the duke entered, and rushed over to him, grabbing him by both hands. "You’ve already managed to come and see me! I’m glad you were able to, for I was hoping to speak with you more regarding what I’d said before."

She led him over to the bed and bade him sit down with her upon it. "Irmene and four of the crew are just down the lane from the Baroness’s home, waiting for a signal that they should descend upon it and execute our plan," she whispered. "I was hoping that I might provide said signal myself―for I was anticipating that the Baroness would have me turned away after I’d presented my demands―but she is clearly worse than I’d expected her to be, so I shall need you to give the sign."

"Take this." She handed him a small torch, which he immediately stuck beneath his doublet. "When you are able, go to the far end of the East passage, light that, and wave it in whatever window overlooks the river behind the Baroness’s mansion. Our allies are stationed just there and, although they are expecting to see the light in the yard, they will likely understand its meaning regardless as long as they are able to spot it."

"After you do this, go to the door and speak with the men on guard there. Do what you must to distract them so that the others might take them by surprise. If the minutes pass and there is no sign of assistance, loudly declare that the house is the largest you have ever seen, as that is another signal I’ve negotiated. Hopefully help shall arrive shortly thereafter." The captain released her grip on Adelard. "I know I am asking a lot of you, but it is what needs doing for our plan to work."

"I am more than capable of handling it," replied the duke. "I’m sure that Irmene, the seamen, and I will be able to take care of the mercenaries on watch. However...the servant, Francis, is watching your door. He has been very kind to me, and I would like to make sure no harm comes to him, that he is treated gently―so you shall need to distract him whilst I do the others."

Captain Scarre raised an eyebrow. "And how am I meant to distract him?"

Adelard felt himself flush. "Well, from what he’s said, he appears to be attracted to you, so, if you make advances toward him, he is highly unlikely to notice the rest of us creeping up on him." He cast his face down, unable to look his friend in the eyes. "You are attractive, you know."

He raised his head to find the captain staring at him, an amused smile playing upon her lips. "Oh, really?" she said. "Is that what he’s told you, or is it merely your own opinion?"

"It might be both," the duke replied, his cheeks burning. "Syndalle, what I was saying before is that―"

The chamber door abruptly banged open, and Francis marched into the room. "I’m sorry, friend, but I must ask you to leave now. If you stay too long, the Baroness may come and discover you within, and that would mean nothing good for either of us." He waved sheepishly at the captain. "I regret interrupting your conversation, Milady, but allowing it to go on any longer would endanger us all."

"Of course," said Captain Scarre, turning on the charm. "I completely understand. And you needn’t call me ’Milady,’ you can just call me by name, Syndalle. All of my friends do, and I’m sure we shall be friends."

Francis stammered, "Y-yes, Mil―Syndalle," and quickly rushed out of the room.

The captain turned to Adelard, cast him a wink, then laughed. "I think I might have laid the ground for the distraction you’d requested." Her face softened. "I wish you well in bringing about our rescue, Adelard. I believe in you and know you shall succeed."

She embraced him, then pushed him out the door before Francis could offer another reminder. He thanked the manservant, who was sitting in a chair before the portal, for allowing him the time with the captain, then he hurried through the great hall and down the East passage to put what had been planned into action.