A/N: Merry Christmas~! Enjoy the early update~!
I didn't see Jack until around dinner the next evening, when he came bursting into my room as if he owned the place (which…in a way he somewhat did, I guess, considering his aunt was the proprietor). Having been in the middle of writing in my journal, I was caught off guard. I instinctively jumped to my feet, and, grabbing my sword from the bed, I drew it and held it in a defensive position.
Jack, on the other hand, merely raised his brow as he looked at me. "Now is that any way t' be treating someone who's brought you food, mate?" he questioned. Lifting his arms slightly, he showed me that he was carrying a tray with two large bowls of soup, two tankards, and a bowl of rolls.
Sighing, I eased up and sheathed my sword before tossing it back onto my bed. "It is when you come bursting into my room, unannounced," I told him, my brow rising in turn. I turned around only to let out a quiet curse; when Jack had come in, I had dropped my freshly-refilled quill in shock and there was now a big, black blob in the middle of the page I had been writing on. "You could have just knocked, you know." Not having anything handy to sop up the excess ink, I pressed my sleeve down into it. 'Thankfully, I don't use the expensive stuff,' I thought.
"Aye, I could have. But this way kept you on your toes." He wore a cheeky grin as he came over and set the tray down on the table. Seeing me use my sleeve to soak up the ink, his brow rose once more. "You keep a journal?"
"Aye, I do," I replied. Picking up the book, I started to blow on the ink blob in order to get it to dry faster. The last thing I needed was for Jack to get a peek at the pages and find out I wasn't a man. "It's a good way to calm down after a long day." I tapped the blob and then some of the words on the page; when I pulled my finger away, I saw that none of the ink had transferred onto my skin. Content, I marked my spot with the journal's ribbon and closed it.
"So, you're not only a proper lad who knows how t' sit correctly, you're also a well-educated one." There was some amusement in his voice. He shrugged something off his shoulder and, when I glanced over, I saw that it was his own seabag. Propping it against the wall, he moved to sit down. "Sounds like you had a comfortable life. Why'd you take t' the sea?"
"Because the sea is my blood and, as much as I love my mother and sisters, I wanted to get away from that life." Sitting down once more, I rolled up my sleeves, making sure the ink stain was tucked between the layers so it wouldn't touch my skin. Jack handed me one of the bowls and one of the tankards; I thanked him as I took them. "I see you brought your travel things," I then pointed out, wanting to change the subject. "Will you be staying the night here?"
"I'm not quite sure yet, t' be honest." Grabbing one of the rolls, he tore it in half before dipping one of the halves into his soup. "I might. If I don't, though, I was going t' ask you if you'd be willing t' watch over my stuff."
"I'd be willing, aye, but what will you do when your aunt sees you leaving here without the bag?"
He held up his finger, signaling that he needed to finish chewing before he would answer. After a moment, he swallowed and replied with, "She didn't actually see me for very long—only long enough for me t' ask what room you were in an' to hand me the master key. So I'm fairly certain she didn't see that I had anything with me."
I nodded slowly, chewing my own bite of soup. It was a ham and potato soup with bits of leek in it; I was surprised by how good it tasted. Though last night's roast chicken has been quite scrumptious, this soup was downright delicious despite being as simple as it was. "That's good. We don't need her getting suspicious and having her tell your parents and grandmother."
His nose scrunched up slightly at the thought. "Luckily, she likes me enough that she wouldn't want t' get me in trouble." Lifting his tankard, he took a small drink from it. "How did you like it here, by the way?" he then asked, a grin coming to his lips. There was a bit of beer foam stuck to his upper lip, making it look like he had an older gent's mustache for a moment. "Comfortable, isn't it?"
I nodded, waiting until I swallowed my mouthful of food to talk. "Aye, it was. Your aunt's a very kind woman. She finds it amusing whenever I call her 'my lady'." Grabbing a roll, I tore a chunk off of it before letting it fall into my soup to sop up as much of the liquid as it could. "I can see why she's your favorite."
"Not many o' the younger residents of Shipwreck City have a good set o' manners about them, so I'm sure she finds your politeness refreshin'." A quiet laugh left his mouth and he shook his head. "An' you made sure t' tell her I sent you, aye?"
"Mhm." Scooping up the bit of roll in my spoon, I started to blow across it.
"Good. How much did she charge you for the room?"
"A pound."
"Aha! She gave you a real good discount, then."
"I sort of figured she had. A pound seemed too cheap for a place this nice, especially when meals and guaranteed safety for your belongings are added in."
We both reached for the bowl of rolls at the same time, but he was just a touch quicker. As he snatched up the roll I had been making to grab, he jokingly stuck his tongue out at me before taking a bite. Taking up a different roll, I split it in half.
The rest of the meal was spent in relative silence, the two of us enjoying the food too much to want to talk. The soup was really good and, when Jack offered to fetch us seconds, I readily accepted the offer.
While he was gone, I glanced over at his seabag. Like mine, it was made of wax-treated canvas. Unlike mine, however, his looked well-worn and had a few patches sewn onto it. It also didn't look very full.
'I hope he has enough supplies in there to last him however long it'll take us to reach Tortuga,' I thought, instinctively reaching for my tankard. I was both embarrassed and disappointed to remember that Jack had taken our drinks to be refilled as well. 'I don't know how much he'll be able to sneak around the ship. Tremaine seems like she keeps a pretty tight ship, which surely means that if any food goes missing, she'll know.' Pulling the cloth from my forehead, I ran my fingers through my hair, wincing as they got caught on some tangles.
'Still can't believe I'm doing this…If something goes wrong, though, at least I should be able to find some sort of work in Tortuga, whether it's on a ship or on land…'
The next morning, I rose with the sun. It wasn't terribly hard, given that I hadn't slept well. A combination of excitement for setting out and the paranoia of sleeping in too long had made for a night filled with tossing and turning.
Oh, and there was also the fact that Jack took up the majority of the bed.
Having decided that it would just be easier for the both of us if he stayed the night at the inn, I offered to let him stay in my room, that way one of us could be sure to wake the other. He happily accepted this offer and quickly talked me into letting him sleep in the bed with me, as the floor would 'get too cold'. I must have drunk more beer than I thought last night, because I normally would have refused; if he had turned out to be a cuddler, there was a chance he might've found out my chest wasn't quite as flat as my baggy shirt and bandages made it look. Luckily, he wasn't a cuddler—he was just the sort who liked to spread out while he slept.
I sat up and glanced over my shoulder at him, my brow rising. His hair was all askew (well, more so than normal) and he had one arm flung over his eyes while the other was hanging over the edge of the bed. One of his legs was stretched out towards my side of the bed and, somehow, was on top of the blanket while the other was also dangling over the edge of the bed and was under the blanket.
'Heh…he actually looks kind of adorable like that,' I thought, shaking my head. 'Almost reminds me of how Tabi hogs the entire bed.' Tabitha was my second youngest sister and my only full-blooded sister who very much enjoyed taking up as much of the bed as possible.
Sighing, I stood up and started to get ready for the day. I combed and braided my hair, pulled my boots and vest on, and was just getting ready to wake Jack up when I felt it: My bindings were loosening and beginning to unravel. Tensing up, I looked behind me to check on Jack; he was still fast asleep. So much so that he let out a loud snort and rolled onto his side.
As I tried not to panic, I turned just enough to allow me to keep an eye on him. Then, reaching under my shirt, I felt around for the end of the bandage only to find it dangling in the middle of my back. Quickly, I began wrapping it around my chest again, though it took a great deal of work. Normally, this was a task I did when shirtless and with a rolled-up length of bandage. Having to untwist the cloth in addition to being sure to not get hung up in my shirt made it an extremely tedious task.
A groan came from the bed just as I was finishing up. "What time is it?" Jack mumbled, rolling onto his back once more.
"Still early. I've got to head out soon, though," I told him. I turned my back towards him fully now, racing to get the knot tied in the bindings. "As do you, actually. Tremaine said she wanted to leave by seven." A sigh of relief left my mouth when, after giving the knot a small tug, it didn't come loose. I tucked my shirt back into my trousers and pulled on my vest.
"Mmm…that's right. We're leavin' today," he said through a yawn. Even though I didn't see it, just hearing the yawn made me yawn as well. "I think we should leave separately."
"So as to not be suspicious?" I turned around to face him only to snort; one arm was draped over his face again while the other was half in the air, his hand moving back and forth as if he were conducting an orchestra.
"Mhm. Though, we'll have t' time it almost perfectly. Tremaine's a punctual woman—when she says she wants you there by seven, she wants you there by seven." He lifted his arm slightly to look at me. "You don't happen t' know the time now, do you?"
"I don't have a pocket watch, I'm afraid."
He groaned before rolling onto his side again…and he then rolled off the bed, somehow managing to land on his feet. It looked like he used a great deal of effort when standing up, given how he remained partly slouched over while he made his way to where his seabag sat. He opened it and, after fishing around inside it for a moment, pulled out a somewhat beat-up pocket watch.
"It's a quarter past six right now," he informed me. As I went to grab my seabag, he started to wind the watch. "Which means you need t' get going, mate."
My brow rose. "And why not you?"
A smirk came to his lips. "I was raised here, remember? I know all the best shortcuts. Even if I left ten minutes after you, I could probably still beat you t' the docks." He glanced over at me. "We could make a wager on it."
"No, thank you," I snorted. "I have a feeling I'm going to need to be quite miserly with my coin from here on out."
"You could always steal more, you know." Closing the watch, he put it back in his bag before cinching it shut. Before he could get it all the way closed, however, I could see that the tall object was, in fact a sword.
"I'm not sure how good of a pickpocket I'd make, to be honest." Grabbing my baldric, I slipped it on over my head.
"It's not hard." He went back to the bed and flopped down, his arms spread out. "The main thing is making sure the person is distracted an' that you stay out of their sight. That's why little kids are so good at it—they're, well, little. And they've got quick hands."
"No wonder the ones here in Shipwreck City seem so proficient at it," I chuckled. I plucked up the room key from the table only to toss it over to Jack. It landed on his stomach, making him look up in confusion. "Be sure to give that back to your aunt before you go," I told him, walking towards the door. "And, with luck, I won't be seeing you until you sneak out of your hiding spot on that ship."
A cheeky grin came to his lips. "Maybe not even then, dependin' on when you get some sleep."
Just as Jack predicted, it took me almost entirely the rest of the hour to get down to the docks, even though I was walking fast. Approaching the Sunrise, I could see Captain Tremaine on the dock, overseeing the loading of a last-minute supply shipment. She glanced over at me, but her gaze quickly returned to the net filled with barrels that now dangled above the deck of her ship.
"I'm glad t' see ye didn't change yer mind 'bout goin' t' Tortuga, Drystan," she said, her arms crossing over her chest. To be honest, I was a bit surprised she remembered my name. "One o' my topmen sprained 'is shoulder in a bad fall yesterday, so 'ere's yer chance t' prove yer actually good up in the riggin'."
I nodded in understanding; one man's misfortune would be my good luck. "Aye, captain," I replied. "Should I stow my belongings in the crew's quarters then?"
"Aye." A cheeky smirk came to her lips when she glanced at me from the corner of her eye again. "I suggest ye mind yer manners an' keep yer eyes t' yerself while down there, by the way. I've lads an' lasses on my crew an' they don't take kindly t' folk who stare at 'em whilst they change."
"I'll be sure to keep my eyes to myself, captain," I said. "Permission to go aboard?"
She chuckled and nodded. "Permission granted." I started to walk up the gangplank, but she called out to me. "Oh, an' Drystan?"
"Aye, captain?"
"I 'ope yer not afraid o' 'eights. Ye'll be workin' up on the main royal." There was a grin on her lips—whether it was teasing or it was challenging was hard to tell.
"That's quite alright with me, captain," I replied before continuing up the gangplank. For most ships, the main royal was the highest sail on a ship, being located at the very top of the main mast. Being told I would be stationed so high up brought a grin to my lips.
I made my way across the deck, being careful to not get in the way of anyone already at work—especially those who were helping to lower the net full of barrels into the hold. I went below deck and, seeing the large, empty space that was the crew's quarters, I went to go stow away my seabag. There were a couple of crewmembers down here; one was sitting in her hammock, polishing a shoe with a black-stained cloth while another was untying one end of his hammock so that it wouldn't be in the way. Judging by how one of his arms was in a sling, I figured him to be the topman I'd be replacing for the duration of the trip.
Both looked at me as I came in. "Yer the whelp who's goin' t' Tortuga then?" questioned the man.
"Aye, I am."
He approached me before circling around me, looking me over and judging me. "Ye don't look like much. An' yer young. Ye should be swabbin' the deck—not tendin' t' the main royal."
"Ah, put a cork in it, Jacoby," the woman said, her tone a bit irritated. I also noticed that her accent, beyond the semi-slurred enunciation that many of the people in Shipwreck City had, was one I didn't recognize. Given her olive skin, though, I thought she might be from somewhere near the Mediterranean Ocean. "Ignore him, lad. He's just irritable because he's been ordered t' only do light duty work 'til his shoulder heals up." She offered me a somewhat friendly smile. "Names Gizem. I'm the cook for this rabble o' dolts. An' the cantankerous one o'er there is Jacoby, my husband."
I couldn't help but chuckle at the way she described the crew and how Jacoby blew a raspberry at her. "Emil Drystan," I replied.
"Drystan?" Jacoby repeated, his brow raised. "Sailed under a Captain Drystan once. Captain Drystan…Crunn, I think his name was. Ye've any relationship t' him?"
My stomach lurched somewhat at this information; he had sailed under my uncle. But I couldn't tell him that. Not only could it put my family at risk, but it could put me at risk if Jacoby didn't have the best of relationships with my uncle.
"No, never heard of him," I answered instead. I walked further into the area, looking for a good spot to store my seabag, sword, and boots.
Gizem snorted. "Just because the lad shares a name with the bloke don't mean they're related, Jacoby. The name's not even in the same spot."
Jacoby dismissively waved his hand before moving to leave the area. "Ye'll want t' get on deck soon, whelp," he called over. "Cap'n's goin' t' want t' have the sails set as soon as we clear the tunnel."
"This ship doesn't get towed?" I asked, my brow rising. The only way in and out of Shipwreck Cove was through a narrow tunnel that was hard to navigate properly; most ships remained anchored outside the caldera with the crews coming through in longboats. Or, often times, they were anchored outside because they were simply too big. Others, though, let themselves be towed in by longboats.
Gizem shook her head. "Nay. Cap'n Tremaine's sailed through that tunnel so many times, she could guide us threw with her eyes shut," she explained. "We use the sweeps t' propel us through, though."
I nodded in understanding as I knelt down. I had found a spot for my belongings that was both out of the way and somewhat hidden. "That'll be interesting to see. I've never actually seen sweeps used before."
"Eh, once you've seen them used once, you're good t' go for the rest o' your life." As I pulled off my baldric, I could feel her eyes on me. "Good t' see you know how t' use a sword. There's a chance you may get t' use it before we reach Tortuga."
My brow rose and I looked over my shoulder. "Really?" I set my seabag over my sword before standing upright once more.
"Aye. There're two trading routes between here an' there that are fairly busy this time o' year." She held up her shoe, inspecting the polishing job. Apparently deeming it unacceptable, she dipped the cloth into a bowl before beginning to rub the shoe again. "You ever take part in a lootin', lad?"
Shaking my head, I kicked off one of my boots. "Not unless you count being the one looted," I replied with a chuckle. "I was part of a merchant crew that got attacked. Rather than get set adrift, I chose to stay and become a pirate."
Amused by my answer, she glanced up at me again. "An' what role did you play on the merchant ship? Swabbie? Cook's helper? Cabin boy?"
"Topman," I replied.
At that, she frowned slightly. "Seriously?" I nodded, my other boot getting kicked off as well. "Huh. We all thought you had just said that t' try and look tough for the cap'n." She then laughed, a smirk on her lips. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough if you're tryin' too hard to lie or not, now won't we?"
"Aye, we will," I replied, hiding the bit of irritation I was beginning to feel. 'It's understandable,' I told myself. 'I'm still young yet—most sailors my age are still swabs, powder monkeys, or able-bodied sailors. Just take it in stride, Emil…'
Taking my leave of the crew's quarters, I was just about to head back up the stairs when I saw a flash of white in the corner of my eye. My brows furrowing, I turned to look only to see the unmistakable face of Jack peeking out from behind a crate filled with pineapples. He gave me a small wave before motioning for me to go away.
Doing as ordered, I climbed the stairs and emerged on deck in time to see the gangplank being pulled up. The other riggers were starting to ascend the ratlines and, as such, I moved to do the same. It was a long climb to the top, especially since the shrouds on this ship were steeper than what I was used to. By the time I had reached the main royal, the ship was pulling away from the dock and moving towards the entrance of the tunnel and I was breathing a bit hard. I stole a glance down at the deck; Tremaine was watching us. Or, rather, she was watching me, wanting to make sure I lived up to my claim.
There was only one other person this far up with me; a man in his mid-thirties by the look of it. "So, yer the new kid," he said, his voice gruff. "Name's Anthony."
"Emil," I said with an acknowledging nod.
"I'm impressed yeh made it all the way up here, kid," he said, leaning over the spar so he could see which sails had already been set. Normally, sails would get set bottom to top. "Most folk get lightheaded the moment they realize they're this high up or start gettin' nauseous thanks t' the ship's movements."
"Thankfully, heights don't bother me," I replied with a small laugh. "And we'll have to see about my stomach; the ships I've worked on before didn't have masts this high."
He nodded in understanding. "Well, yeh'll learn soon enough if yer stomach can handle it. Once we're out on the open ocean, it won't be nearly as smooth as it is now."
"I believe it." As Anthony leaned over to start undoing knots, I copied him.
I was in the middle of unwinding the rope from around the sail when we were suddenly engulfed by blackness; we had entered the tunnel. The sudden lack of light took a few seconds for my eyes to get used to, but once they adjusted, I could make out the silhouettes of the spar, some ropes, and Anthony. He said nothing, so I continued working; it was only slightly tricky, locating the right ropes I needed. From below, the sound of the sweeps as they cut through the water echoed around us, sounding almost eerie and out of sync with the waves lapping against the walls of the tunnel.
"There, all set." I stood upright, holding onto the spar for a bit of help with balancing. Just in time, too, as the exit of the tunnel was fast approaching. Within just a few minutes, we were sailing into daylight once again and I was rapidly blinking my eyes.
Anthony looked over at me, inspecting the work I had done. "Good job, kid," he said before moving to start climbing down. "But we'll see how well yeh really do later when we have t' furl the sails back up." At that, he laughed, the sound being more akin to a loud, harsh wheeze than an actual laugh.
While I waited for him to climb down, I looked out at the horizon. A smile came to my lips and I took in a deep breath of the crisp sea air. 'Finally,' I thought. 'I'm back out where I belong.'
