Kincade sat in his cell and elected to stay awake all night. After all, he was going to sleep for a long time. From the south-facing barred window, the darkness of the morning was holding strong against the invading light. But the night's struggle had been hard, and the darkness was about to give way to the light of a new dawn.

The thought intruded on Kincade's mind, "So they must be coming to get him soon". This whole thing had been nothing but a mistake. He was, after all, the victim in all this. Why had no one come to his aid or just for a moment listened to him? Lifting his hand to his cheek, Kincade absent-mindedly traced the scar. Last night, Kincade started by pacing from one side of the cell to the other, noting the cell was small and made of stone, with only two iron loops, one on each walk to hang a hammock and a bucket. He muttered like a streetside madman to himself, hoping that an idea or a plan would hit him like a bolt from the other side of the vail. But, no such bolt came. Unless, yes, he was to fight his way out, but when? Was it as the Jailer walked through the door or when he was making the long walk? Or on the gallows, would he be able to break for it, then?

A knock on the door followed by the opening of an inspection port, a low and steady voice asked.

"My child. Are you ready? To repent your sins, make a complete list of all you have transgressed. To clear the way, for your final rights?" a priest asked like he was reading a grocery list.

"No," responded Kincade quickly and without fanfare. So where did that come from, he asked himself?

"It is your right, but if I may..." the priest replied.

"Nuff of that! On to the next. That one will burn," came another ruff voice of the Jailer, sliding the port closed.

That seemed like a lost opportunity, thought Kincade, and he wondered if he was the type of man who could harm the clergy. Or was that just too far a step, too dark a place for someone like him? He was concerned that it was not an immediate "No ."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

From outside the door, Kincade could hear the rattle and jangle of chains. It was still dark, and the light of dawn was not yet upon them. So, that was it, then! I will jump the guard as they come through the door. This plan is for the ages, and it is definitely the way to go.

But, the inspection port on the door opened again, and the same voice of the Jailer yelled into the cell.

"Back against the far wall and drop to your knees." commanded the Jailer.

"And what if I don't!" replied Kincade.

"Judge said you hang. He didn't say you were to be alive when you did." Replied the Jailer, and the barrel end of a musket poked through the port and aimed at Kincade, who responded by turning against the far wall. As he did, the old saying came to mind: 'Stand up just one more time than you fall.'

The keys jingled, the lock clicked, and the door did not open. A voice called out, "Who are you? What are you?" The sound stopped abruptly and was replaced with a gurgling sound. A man stepped through, alone, into the cell. He sniffed once.

"Is this him, cap'n?" Mr Wolf asked. Emma stepped in behind him with a broad smile, pistol at her side, and a blood-covered dagger in her hand.

She opened her mouth and said., "So, they tell me you're a pirate now. Does that mean you want a job?"

At that, the sound of Hell itself was called forth, and gunfire rang out again and again. The noise of propellers filled the area, all coming from the yard beyond the cell windows.

"Yes, Mr Wolf, this is indeed my brother," Emma said.

"Emma?" Kincade asked, lifting himself from the floor.

"Yes. And no. I am here to rescue you, finally. But we must go now. My crew can't keep this up for long. So gird your loins," Emma said, pointed up with her knife blade, turned, and walked away.

"Well, follow along, then." Mr Wolf barked and grabbed Kincade by the shoulder.

The three of them raced up the central staircase of the building to the third floor through a window dormer and onto the roof. Above them was an airship and gunners keeping the constabulary at bay. In short order, they were off like rats up a drainpipe.

Kincade was led to the mess and left sitting at a table with a mug of rum and an almost full clay pot of even more rum.

Emma sat down at Kincade's side, and next to her was a funny little man with a bowler hat.

Kincade had just sat at the table in shock.

"He is quite ugly." Mr Wolf started.

"Quite the face for a life like ours," Emma responded.

"Emma?! What is happening?" Kincade asked.

"Oh, so much more than you could ever believe. But first."

Emma waved at her brother to follow her, and together, they moved through the ship and into the engine room.

"A gift," Emma said, pointing to a hog-tied Harry McCabe.

The end.