Chapter Six

Sara was furious with her brother, first for sneaking off to the old man's shack the day before and now sleeping in his bed well after first light. Even if it was a working plantation, with plenty of people hired on to work the land, they still had plenty of chores of their own to tend with and he was acting like a lay-about. She stomped all the way to his room and stood behind the door, fuming in her work dress. Balling up her fists, she slammed them against the wood, making such a loud ruckus that several of the servants rushed to her aid. The door opened and her brother was wiping sleep from his eyes.

"You rang, my lady?"

"None of that charm will work on me today, Simon." Sara seethed. "You had better have an excuse for missing breakfast this morning. Father believes you are cross with him."

"Come on in, sister. I will show you why I am still asleep." Sara followed him in and she found an open canvas bag, spilled out over the floor.

"I thought you were giving my leg a pull. You really went back there and stole from that old man?"

"I had to."

"You had to? And what did you take? What did you risk your soul for? Trinkets? Baubles? Things you could have found in our own dustbin."

"I guess I should tell you the story." Simon sat back, and waited for his sister to take a place on the straight back chair at the bureau. She folded her hands and narrowed her gaze into his eyes. "You will try to not interrupt me, won't you?"

"I will seal my tongue behind impenetrable lips."

"We were only a supply ship, Sara. Not once did I see a cannon fire in battle or hear the clash of swords, but many sailors crossed our decks. We visited many ports of call, where I saw the most unbelievable array of mankind displayed. If you knew where to look, you could see the very darkness of humanity and even see the unexplainable. There is, for example, a very real mystical force at work in this world. I have seen indescribable things in these back alleys, in the denizens of sin and inequity. Some of it is Evil, some of it is the weird, yet all of it beyond human explanation and all of it very startlingly real, dear sister. I don't mean to scare you. I learned the story first from a man in the Mediterranean. I heard it confirmed on the far shores of Africa. There are tools bestowed to man by the God of the Sea, many thousands of years ago, when we first took to the water to brave the depths. They were tokens Sarah, simple tools, but blessed with so much power that the man who wielded them had full control of the Oceans of the world. Whole navies could journey under the power of a God, imagine it. Empires were built upon the owner's prowess. And they still exist today. No one knows for certain what they look like, because the tale says the Mariner tools will change form every hundred years. As you can imagine, Sara, this makes the ownership of the object quite accidental, since any owner is apt to lose it once the tool changes shape." Sara looked at her brother with a mix of disbelief and sadness.

"Simon, what do you think? That you have found one of these objects in the trinkets you have here? I believe the hard labor at sea has done something to your mind. You would never have done anything like this while mother was alive."

Simon pounded his fist on the ground. "No, Sara. I would not have done that. I would have not gone to sea and learned that I love it far more than anything in this life. I would not have seen a thousand and one sunrises and sunsets in the strangest parts of the world, or watched meteors stream in the sky like a thousand firebugs dancing in the night. And I would not have a destiny, as sure as I am standing here, I have found what I was looking for and it is right here."

Simon lifted a compass, black in color, with dull gold trimming. He lifted the lid and the Northern point was addressing a course that was certainly not on target.

"It's broken."

"That is what I thought at first. And I held it all night. Hoping that through some magic way, I would glean come information in my sleep. But when I awoke in the night, I had to, well, evacuate. I happened to glance at the Compass in my hand and it was pointing towards the Privy. When I had finished, the needle regained its other course."

"And what course now? A pile of manure perhaps?"

"I believe that this compass is very special Sara. It does not point north, true, but it does give each holder a heading. Take it and see."

Simon placed the black compass in his sister's dainty hand. She looked down at it and back up at her twin brother. "It is pointing at you."

Simon slowly walked around her, and she marveled at how the needle continued to point in his direction. "I believe that this compass points to what you want, or where you want to be. And in this scenario, it appears you want to be with me, wherever I am."

"Then it is certainly busted if that is the outcome of its magic," she replied snidely.

"You cannot deny that this is a special thing. The old man has been sitting on this, protecting this all these years, when he could have found any lost treasure there ever was. Imagine the possibilities for England! All the forgotten glories of the ancient world could be ours. Any wonder and mystery can be uncovered and given light. And I would be the one to bring about a change in this world, for the better."

"And why would they not just take this from you?"

"I will not let them know I have it. To them, all my good fortune will be happy accidents, and coincidences. Unless I let it slip what I have in possession, there will be know way anyone would know."

"You've gone mad. You know well what happens when greed takes hold of people. Every nursery rhyme is filled with characters that wanted too much too fast. You are a young man, all that should come later. Why are you in such a rush to prove yourself?"

Simon scrunched his face and turned to the window. "Sailing is my only gift, Sara. You have been given incredible gifts. You are passionate and kind. You have artistic abilities and an incredible sense of wonderment that I will never possess. All I can do is climb the ladder militarily and I cannot be blamed for wanting to do so in an expeditious process. I do not want to be the fetch boy any longer. Harwell, fetch a mop! Harwell, fetch that line! Harwell, you brigand!"

"Must be awful doing your job, Simon."

"Be as snarky as you like, sister, but the men in our family are expected to rise and rise quickly. If I want to be a Captain by age fifteen, why shouldn't I? Alexander was conquering lands by then."

Sara smirked. "And that is who you fancy yourself? A makeshift Alexander? I have heard you boast a great many things, but never like this."

"I need you to understand. Father will not be able to grasp my ambition, but it is very important that you give me your blessing. The life I am about to take on is filled with many dangers. If you do not want me to do this, tell me now and I will stay on my normal course. I will sail around and spend my life away from you or I can take my life into my own hands, chart a new course for my life. A course that I alone will chart. I will be the key to everything. And when I want leave, I can take it. If I wanted to relocate the family back to England, I would have a castle built for you all."

"But I like it here."

"But we are English. We belong there. You should see it, Sara. No more beautiful place on Earth is there than our own home. When I arrived there the first time since we left for the Americas, it was very much like coming home. I want you and father to live there again. You can be a proper lady and marry gentlemen, not the riff raff we have out here."

"Why is it all men are in a rush to push women into marriage? Simon, you're foolish to think this will change your life. But, if it will bring you back into my life again, I can accept that this is something you want to try."

Simon hugged his sister and they shared a moment of double understanding. All of it was suddenly interrupted by the strange and often jarring sound of a long nine firing somewhere near the house.