I LOST some time that night, lying in the dark. I knew I was hurt. I thought I might be dying, I hurt so much. I couldn’t bring myself to speak. Sun called my name and cried, but I couldn’t answer him. It was as though Martio had damaged more than my body. He’d taken my voice also.
Somehow I lived through that night, bleeding in the pitch-black, Sun’s quiet sobs my company. He spoke to me all night, sometimes talking to me, sometimes shouting for help. I didn’t remember anything he said. I was numb to my very core, and I could not move my body. My mind was empty, without thoughts. I did not sleep.
When day broke, Sun’s hoarse cries finally brought Butcher.
“What’s all this noise about?” the tall mulatto asked as he came down the stairs with a water bucket. “Captain says I’m to gag you if you can’t keep quiet.” Butcher stopped just out of Sun’s reach.
“Benjamin,” Sun choked. “Benjamin is hurt.”
“Who tied you up again?” He walked to where I lay. I curled up, flinching away from him. Butcher crouched. I heard a sound, a low animal whimper, and realized it came from me.
“Who’s been at you, boy?” He looked at Sun. “Thought you’d beat him for selling you to pirates, did you?”
“It was Martio,” Sun said. “He came last night. He… he hurt Benjamin.” Sun didn’t have a word for what Martio had done to me.
Butcher looked at me and frowned. I realized my face throbbed and couldn’t understand why I hadn’t noticed it before. My face felt like someone had used it to hammer the deck.
Butcher grunted and poured water over my head. I sputtered, and everything hurt worse.
“After all my work to fix you….” He looked me over, muttering to himself.
Sun watched anxiously. I was not in control of my body. No matter how often Butcher told me to hold still, I flinched from him and shivered. He washed my face, and I screamed when he straightened my broken nose.
“Not so uncanny at present. Ah well, that’s for the best,” he mumbled.
He left to fetch another bucket and was gone awhile. When he came back, he washed the rest of me, ignoring my cries and struggles as I tried to get away from his probing fingers.
“Stop your yelling, boy!” Butcher thundered, but his words were for Sun, who rattled his bars and screamed for Butcher to leave me alone. “He’ll live. He’s hurt, but he’ll live.”
Butcher’s rough hand found my chin, and he forced me to look at him.
“You hear me? You’ll live. One day soon you’re going to get up and walk out of here and live your life with dignity, boy. Nobody, not Martio, not the captain, not a man of this ship is going to stop your doing that. You hear?”
I considered his thickly bearded face and too-experienced eyes. His gaze searched mine, and though I made no sound, he nodded. He grunted once and turned to leave.
“Thank you,” Sun’s voice rang clearly. Butcher nodded and was gone.
We were alone again.
I felt a little better clean, and, as though the water had also cleared some kind of block, I felt shame boil up inside me. I had allowed Martio to do that to me. I wasn’t strong enough or smart enough to stop him. I couldn’t defend myself like Sun could. Martio could do whatever he wanted with me. I was powerless.
“Benjamin.” Sun’s voice, though quiet as a whisper, echoed in the hold. “I am sorry. You should never forgive me. When he comes, I will do whatever he wants.”
Sun blamed himself. I groaned. I didn’t want to have to help Sun with his guilt. I wanted to nurse my wounds and my shame.
“God damn it, Sun.” My voice was a growl. “He did that to me, not you.” I realized as the words left my mouth they were wrong. If Martio raped me once, he must have raped Sun hundreds of times. He raped me. I shook my head to clear it. “This is not your fault. I shouldn’t have been flippant with him.” It was my fault. He probably would have left me alone if I hadn’t spoken, hadn’t egged him on.
“No, Benjamin. No.” Sun was crying again. I was the one who had been raped, yet he was crying. “I’m sorry.”
Something loosened in my chest, burned through me. Quite suddenly, I was awash with rage. As clearly as if I were doing it right that moment, I knew I had it in me to kill Martio de Fortaliza. I’d strangle him with the leg irons, attack him until I was dead, if he came into this hold again. The power and clarity of the feeling stole my strength and sent me to the floor. I’d never felt rage that strongly. I’d never wished death on another man. But, in that moment, I knew I would murder if given the chance.