"…It feels like it's getting warmer again," Edmund groaned.
Caspian looked over at the young king of old, and with a sigh, commented; "Speaking like that will get us nowhere."
"Sorry, Caspian," Edmund said, wiping his brow as he strained his eyes across the infinitely calm mass of blue water around them. "If only we were closer to land! The wind's been… Ahem. Sorry."
"That's alright. I think everyone understands," Caspian said humbly, turning to walk across the deck, directing a glance over at Drinian, who was nearly leaning over the wheel with heated exhaustion.
"Everyone except Eustace,"Edmund grunted fiercely, following after Caspian. "He's seems to be doing jolly well for having hardly any water, though he grumbles a good deal more than anyone else."
"Edmund—" Caspian started, but he was interrupted again.
"And all he does is write profusely down in your cabin."
"Edmund, we cannot spend our time criticizing Eustace—no matter what a beast he has been. Perhaps… Oh, if only the wind would pick up again. It is so accursedly hot!"
"And we're not moving."
"We must be out of our minds, speaking so… Hmph. Does heat drive a man mad?" Caspian asked miserably.
"I wouldn't have thought so, before this," Edmund sighed. "Come on, let's see what Lucy is up to."
"Caspian? Are you awake?" Edmund strained his eyes in the dark, but couldn't make out whether or not if the king was asleep.
Caspian groaned.
"I think so?"
"You've been talking of poultry for a quarter hour," Edmund sighed.
"Hmm?" Caspian groaned. There was a noise of shifting.
"It's unbearably hot in here," Edmund moaned.
Caspian coughed and shifted again.
"And I'll tell you what's worse than that, though I doubt you're listening," Edmund added. "It's that dreadful snoring coming from Eustace's bunk. I think he has slept solidly the whole night—because I've been awake to hear him. And in the morning he will be complaining about how awfully he slept."
"Thirsty," Capsian gasped.
"I say Caspian—you complain more in your sleep that you do awake," Edmund snorted, rolling over so that his back faced the other bunks across from him.
For a moment there was only an uneasy, stifling silence, often interrupted by the creaking and groaning of the ever-so-gently rocking ship.
Edmund, tired and feverish as he was, was suddenly aware of, not a noise—but rather the lack thereof.
He didn't care to turn around, but he did listen. Eustace, obviously, had stopped snoring, and soft footsteps were being placed ever so cautiously on the wooden floor. There was a slight clank like that of a clay vessel scraping against wood—a cup.
Edmund drew in his breath tiredly, lifted his head—considering leaping off of the bunk—and then let it fall back against the pillow. What felt like a few stifling hours (but was hardly a minute) passed, and then suddenly there was a horrible uproar. Edmund, wide awake, forced himself to nearly roll off the side of his bunk and hit the ground feet-first with a gigantic thud.
"Edmund?" Caspian grunted loudly, sitting up so quickly that he hit his head on the bunk above him. "Ohhhh… Hm? That sounds like Reepicheep."
Edmund gestured to Eustace's empty bed. "Eustace, I'm afraid, is headed for the water barrel."
"Wonderful," Caspian said sarcastically, climbing from his bed and stumbling onto the floor. "Come on."
"…The traitorous brute! Scandalous little beast! Thank goodness for justice, in a time like—"
"Reepicheep!" Drinian hollered, pushing aside the gathered crew and approaching the mouse, who was perched almost comfortably upon the rim of the water barrel, pointing his needle-like, mouse-sized rapier in Eustace's face.
"Hail, Captain," Reepicheep squeaked pleasantly, "and—ah! Caspian!"
Everyone turned as Edmund and Caspian emerged from their cabin, grim-faced and not just irritated.
"…I said I was sorry! Truly! Can't you let me be?" Eustace was desperately pleading. He glanced behind him hopefully as Caspian and Edmund approached.
"Reepicheep—your sword?" Caspian said, motioning for the mouse to disarm himself. Reepicheep, stuttering all the while, most begrudgingly tossed the small rapier behind him—which fell with a twang, stuck upright in the wooden planking.
"Now, what is this all about?" Caspian asked, eyeing the full crew which had assembled around the water barrel.
"The boy was trying to thieve our precious water, my lord, and I have had the honor to—"
"Bother honor," Drinian snapped over Reepicheep.
"Drinian," Caspian groaned. "We are all tired, but let us not have it get in the way. Now, I understand, Reepicheep, what you were doing here. But Eustace…"
"Yes sir, at my rightful post, thank you! Guarding the water—" Reepicheep began loudly.
"He says! Of course, trust the dreadful little brute," Eustace began, but Caspian interrupted.
"Ahem. I'm truly sorry it had to come to this," the king said earnestly. "We've had it rough, all of us. Eustace—" he turned to the boy, who was quivering with lips sealed, wanting to explode over the "unfairness" of the situation. "I apologize for this row," Caspian added a little more seriously. "But—this is a ship I have to run, and well—things must be attended to."
He began commanding loud enough for all the crew to hear.
"Men! From now on, anyone caught stealing water will get two dozen!..."
There was a general agreement and muttering as the crew wearily trudged back to their cabins.
"Sire, I thank you for your righteous verdict of the matter," Reepicheep began. "It is a pleasant assurance to know that the Dawn Treader is in good—"
"Enough, Reepicheep," Caspian interrupted, running a hand through his golden hair with a sigh. "The night is old, and if we can avoid falling from exhaustion on the decks tomorrow, I'd say the best thing is a bit more sleep. Edmund… Eustace… come on."
They started back to the cabin.
"What's two dozen?" Eustace whispered to Edmund when he had regained a steady voice.
"It means that you will get whipped two-dozen times," Edmund muttered groggily, quickening his pace so that he could be in step with Caspian.
They left Eustace outside the cabin with a mixed expression on his face.