As the ship lurches I roll sideways into some coiled rope. The darkness is all consuming but I guess that is why they threw me down here. I push into the rope and try to stand, but with my hands tied it isn’t easy. I stumble to my feet and my head brushes the timbers above so I begin to work out the dimensions of my prison by bumping blindly into the available space.

The smell is strong in here too of oil, damp rag and neglect.

This is not a place I want to stay in for long, groping with my hands behind me searching for anything sharp to cut the ropes I begin to hear noises above and shouting. Then shots ring out, feet scuffling overhead. My fingers close on a metal nail and I start to work the ropes free, knowing it will be a painful task as repeatedly I cut my skin and not the bindings.

Crashing noises and calling overhead as suddenly I realise they are searching for me.

‘Here’ I yell and the light almost blinds me as the door creaks open and waves of fresh salty air flood in.

‘The Prince is safe’ I hear them call as a shadow starts down the steps towards me.

Rescue at last.