Young Sam looked out across the dark sea. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be looking out for, but Drumknott had assured him that he would know when he saw it. With a sigh he leaned against the railing of the crows' nest and rested his chin in his hand. Overhead, the full moon shone brightly.
On deck, there was a stirring. The fog that lay thick across the deck stirred, almost imperceptibly, though there was nothing to move it. Sam was quite sure of this – he looked long and hard, trying to discern whether or not anyone was down there. He fought off a shiver, though he didn't quite know why; the night was certainly warm enough. A breeze ruffled his hair and he exhaled deeply though his nose.
Pirating was turning out to be quite disappointing. First there was the seasickness, which seemed to have passed, thank the gods. Then there was the . . . the ocean. It was big, blue and wet(1). And, apparently, totally devoid of other human life. He'd pictured thrilling battles on the high seas, endless adventure and peril and . . . there wasn't any. There was just the sea, and sailing on it. And sailing, Sam was discovering, was hard work.
He was still slumped over the railing, passively watching out for enemy ships (or anything that might be more interesting than the occasional whale) when he heard a very slight creak that was different – more metallic – than the creaks the Boat normally made. He looked quickly down to the deck and saw the door to the captain's cabin swinging shut. Sam squinted and, through the fog and the dark, barely made out the shape of Vetinari pulling the door closed. Sam watched as the man walked to the edge of the ship and leaned on the railing. He didn't move for quite some time. Sam, bored and curious besides, abandoned the crows' nest. He climbed down the rope ladder to the deck and made his way over to the captain as quietly as he could. Nevertheless, Vetinari heard him from the moment he'd started moving down the ladder, and didn't even look twice when Sam moved next to him.
"You should be up above," Vetinari said neutrally, taking a sip of rum.
"There's nothing out there," Sam replied, turning his chin up just a little. "I checked." When Vetinari didn't say anything to this, Sam decided to plow on. "Why did you keep me on here?"
"I couldn't spare the time to take you back," Vetinari said automatically, without any emotion. Sam scowled.
"That's not true," he said firmly. "You could have gone back. Or you could have pulled into shore somewhere and let me off to find my own way back. But you're not going to. Why?"
Vetinari sighed. "We're stopping in Hergen. You want off, you get off there."
"That's not the answer to my question!"
"That's the answer you're going to get." Sam stopped dead in his tracks. Well. That certainly settled that then. He opened his mouth once or twice, as if trying to come back with something, but stopped. Just as he was getting ready to head back to the crows' nest, Vetinari spoke.
"Besides, your mother would kill me if I dropped you off on some beach somewhere and left you on your own."
Sam paused, scowling. "I can take care of myself," he said stiffly. "I don't need a babysitter anymore."
"Hm." Vetinari didn't say anything for a moment, and leaned on the rail, drinking his rum. "And what better place to learn if your suspicions are right than on this ship?"
"What?" Sam stopped and turned, expression confused. Vetinari turned to face him and shrugged.
"You say you don't need a babysitter anymore. Fine, everyone hits that point at some time in their lives." He took a drink of rum. "But the thing is, everyone starts saying that long before they're correct."
"I've been saying it since I was thirteen," Sam muttered sullenly.
Vetinari shrugged. "That's immaterial. Some people talk more than others. There's no better place to learn whether or not you need someone to look after you than on a boat, though."
"Why?"
"Because you get left to do what needs to be done, without help," Vetinari smirked. "End of story. This is your chance, Sam, to prove yourself."
For some reason that made Sam nervous. Suddenly he felt a lot more pressure to do things right, to get things right. If life is like a trapeze act, Vetinari had just removed his metaphorical safety net. He swallowed, feeling much, much smaller but then stood up as straight as he could manage without falling over on the gently rocking deck.
"Well fine then," he said as firmly as he could manage. "I will." Vetinari snickered a little and turned back to the ocean. Absently, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick iron watch. He looked at it for a while, apparently oblivious to Sam's continued presence. The boy was just about to the ladder when he heard a soft, quickly stifled yelp. He spun around to see Vetinari standing at the railing, holding his left hand clenched in his right in the universal "oh gods it hurts" position.
Sam walked over cautiously. "Are you alright?" he hazarded.
Vetinari nodded quickly. "Just fine," he managed. "Go away now." Sam saw blood trickling out between the man's fingers. He raised his eyebrows.
"You're sure?"
"Go away," Vetinari snarled. Sam, taken aback and more than a little frightened scampered to the ladder and back to the crows' nest in what might have been record time. He watched as Vetinari, still holding his hand, walked back to his cabin and shut the door. There was as small trail of blood on the deck.
Sam watched the blood for a while, trying to think of what might have caused such a thing. Splinter? His own knife, maybe? And then the rain started and washed the blood away. Sam took his coat off, sat down in the crows' nest and made a makeshift tent for himself, glaring out over the ocean.
Oh, the adventure of the high seas.
--
The next morning Sam emerged on deck groggy and bleary-eyed, chunk of bread that was serving as breakfast in hand. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, and yet the entire crew was up and about, making ready for another day's sail. Drumknott saw him and strode over efficiently. "Wake up," he said. "You're in the crows' nest."
"Again?"
Drumknott raised his eyebrows. "Would you rather clean the hold?"
Sam backtracked quickly. "Er, no. Crows' nest will be fine."
"That's what I thought." Drumknott turned away just as Vetinari slid out of his quarters. He bowed. "Morning, sir."
"Hm?" Vetinari turned to the man, looking a little startled. "Oh. Morning. Yes, it certainly is that."
Sam was puzzled, but didn't want to hang around and look like he was listening in. Instead he made his way over to the rope ladder, trying to focus on what Vetinari and Drumknott were saying.
"We're going to need to change our bearings Hubwards a little," Vetinari was saying. "I was thinking we might be able to skip the stop at Hergen and get all the way to the port in be Trobi but it doesn't look like it."
"No sir?"
"The winds aren't with us, it would seem. Judging on the season and our bearing we're going to be moving slower than normal." As he headed to the helm and Sam reached the crows' nest, Sam noticed Vetinari hadn't taken his left hand out of his pocket the entire time. "Which is fine; we'll just stop at Hergen and really stock up to make it around Ting Ling."
"Yes sir," Drumknott said, nodding. "Shall I inform the crew of the new bearings?"
"Obviously," Vetinari muttered distractedly, pulling a map out of his right pocket and opening it on the helm.
"Sir?" Drumknott asked cautiously. "Er, is your hand all right?"
Sam stopped breathing, straining to hear what was being said. Vetinari just gave the first mate a blank look. "Why wouldn't it be?"
Drumknott gave Vetinari a significant look but didn't say anything. Vetinari rolled his eyes and pulled his left hand out of his pocket. Sam noticed he was wearing a glove on it. He wiggled his fingers. "It's fine," Vetinari said evenly. "Thank you for worrying."
Drumknott shrugged. "I was just wondering."
"Very good. Now go wonder about someone else," Vetinari smirked. Drumknott sighed, though he was smirking a little too, and wandered off to the hold, presumably to check on the cleaning crew down there. Sam watched Vetinari for a minute.
Aside from the glove his hand seemed fine. But the more Sam watched, the more he noticed that Vetinari was using it sparingly, and any movement he might have had in it was stiff and slight. Sam wondered if he should do something about it, as the doctor on board, until he realized that Vetinari himself was a doctor and he probably had seen to it himself.
He must have cut himself, Sam decided. Probably just stiff because of the stitches or something.
And that, he decided, was all the thought he was willing to give to the matter.
--
(1)Anywhere the wind is blowing/ Hoist the sails and sing/ Sailing for adventure on the big, blue wet thing(2).
(2)You honestly thought I would get through this without at least one Muppet reference? Seriously?
A/N: Yeah it's short but whatever, deal with it, right? New chapters are underway, obviously, but it's mad hard to write and watch The Soup at the same time.