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crawled.  They were mindless,
violent barbarians, and not even the gods could help a man who stood between a
Grizzwoodian and what he considered his.   It didn’t matter if it was his
chair, his broken cup, or his woman, a true Grizzwoodian would fight for any of
them.  All of them.  Against any odds or opponent.
    With every goddamned breath in his
body.
    Because it was HIS.
    Not that Uriah really lived his
life according to the teachings of his people.  Truth told, he didn’t care
about his homeland’s beliefs any more than he cared about what other pirates
expected him to do.
    All Uriah cared about was the fact
that he wanted the girl.
    Period.
    He wanted her smiles, he wanted her
body, and he wanted her talent.  It was all his already as far as he was
concerned.  He’d seen her, he wanted her, she was his.
    So none of that other bullshit made
a damn bit of difference.  It wouldn’t have mattered to him if the people of
the Grizzwood had all been god-fearing pacifists, or if he had sworn some kind
of blood-oath to the other pirates where he vowed to never take their prizes.
    Uriah wanted her.
    He was going to take her. 
    End of story. 
    It really didn’t matter how the
pieces were arranged on the board or where this little scene was playing out,
Uriah was going to take her anyway.
    He’d take her from his brother, or
his king, or his treasured friend.
    He’d take her if they were all standing
in a church, or a graveyard, or at her 50 th anniversary to her
beloved husband.
    He’d take her anyway.
    Because he wanted her and he was
selfish and he simply didn’t give a shit about anything but that.
    She pounded in his blood. 
    An instant violent need, burning in
the heart like madness.
    He wasn’t sure why and he didn’t
care.  At all.
    The Grizzwood was ruled by The
Right of the Meanest.  Whoever was toughest, was in charge and could take what they wanted.  If you won the fight, you won the right.  It was their only
real law and their principle form of social cohesion.
    And at the moment, Uriah intended
to follow that law to the letter.
    But that didn’t mean he had to be
happy about it.
    “Crap.”  He said under his breath,
feeling sorry for himself and cursing the woman for being so appealing.  Why
couldn’t she have been a bartender or something?  Why did she have to be an
enemy soldier?  It made this so much more complicated for him.
    Rowland glanced up at him, still rummaging
through his desk looking for the letter which put him on the trail of the
Adithian ship to begin with.  “Something wrong?”
    “I want the girl.”  Uriah blurted out,
trying to keep the desperation from his voice.  He tapped a finger against his
chest.  “She’s mine.”
    Had Rowland had any experience with
the Grizzwood folk, he would have immediately recognized the horrifying implications of that simple statement and apologetically handed her over.
Immediately.
    Sadly, he did not, and Rowland
chuckled like the colossal asshole that he was.  “You’ll get your turn.”  He
assured him, which made Uriah’s skin crawl. 
    He shook his head.  “No, no, you
misunderstand me.”  He turned around and met the other man’s eyes.  “I don’t
mean I want to rape her, I mean I want her .”
    “You want the girl as your
5%?”  Rowland shook his head.  “Sorry, she’s worth more than 5% of this haul.”
    “Then I’ll buy her .”  Uriah
squared his shoulders.  “Name your price.”
    “I’m not going to sell her!” 
Rowland sounded genuinely insulted.  “She killed half my crew!”
    “So, get a new crew.”  Uriah
snapped.  “They were bested by a woman anyway, how good could they
possibly have been?”  He tried to play into the man’s natural sexism, hoping
Rowland was stupid enough to fall for it.  “I’ll pay you double her worth and
you can use that money to hire men of ten times their skill.  It’s
win-win for you.  Keeping the girl gets you nothing.  She’s just some