Fargo hadn't had solid ground under his feet for so long in ages. The pirates, however, were no different. They used the forced landing at this small port, which had now lasted a week, to refloat their ship. The Amethyst had taken an immense beating in the escape and in the sea battle that followed.
Fargo had not fully noticed this for the time being, but at the latest the moment he stood behind the wheel again, he had become aware that the three-master had truly seen better days. He had demanded everything the ship was still willing to give in order to cover the distance to the harbour as quickly as possible. With full sails and rattling rigging, the Amethyst had eagerly tied knot after knot, but the numerous minor and even major scrapes had by no means made it easy for him.
He had realised that the captain had indeed been stuck when he threatened him in his cabin to get him back at the helm of the ship. The proud pirate had had no choice but to put him behind the wheel and admitting that and asking nicely was probably an impossibility for a man like him. The satisfaction that this realisation gave him, however, did not distract him from worrying about Nathan's condition. Not knowing how his protégé was doing in these moments had made him almost insane during the long hours of the journey.
But leaving the steering wheel was out of the question. For one thing, the captain's pistol barrel would have found him faster than he could have taken a single step towards the cabin, and for another, it was probably clearest to him of all those on board that the Amethyst, in its present condition, had to be brought to a safe harbour by capable hands, uninterrupted and by the quickest route.
The irony of the parallels between the condition of his charge and his beloved ship did not escape Fargo. They both needed help as soon as possible or they would probably remain united together at the bottom of the sea for eternity.
Now they had been here in this small harbour for a week and the Amethyst was slowly but surely returning to its former glory. Nathan, however, still lay unconscious in his sickbed, which the local doctor visited daily to check on his patient. His wound had been expertly cleaned and stitched, and his fever treated, but the young man's recovery was still in the stars. Day after day he hoped for a positive statement from the doctor. Day after day, however, he was disappointed and the flame of hope went out a little more.
Two of the captain's men kept watch outside the door of the room. A more than unnecessary undertaking if you asked him. As long as Nathan was in this condition, he would not go anywhere and if he did not make it, he was not sure if he would have the strength to try to escape again.
The door opened quietly and the doctor entered for his rounds today. He set his leather bag down on a nearby dresser and then approached the bedside. After the routine examinations of his patient, he looked at his patient's wound. He seemed satisfied with the healing process.
"Doctor?" asked Fargo, hoping for good news as he did every day .
"His condition is unchanged. The wound looks good, but I am concerned that he still shows no signs of coming to. On the positive side, his condition is stable. I'll come back tomorrow. Keep an eye on his temperature, if he starts to have a fever again, it would be very bad," the doctor replied.
"Thank you, doctor," Fargo bid the other farewell.
The doctor left the room and another person entered. Someone Fargo would have liked to throw straight out again if it were even remotely within his power.
"The ship is afloat again, we will set sail tomorrow morning and you two will come with us. He's been treated. He'll either make it or he won't. The doctor can't do anything about that now. We can wait and see what he decides in the end, even with the wind in our sails," the captain stated unaffectedly.
"How can you be so heartless. Is he not your best man? Why are you so willing to take the risk of losing him?" asked Fargo incomprehensibly.
"He is as replaceable as any of us. You of all people should know that. I am responsible for the entire crew. One man does not weigh enough against the danger of the rope for all of us, no matter how talented he may be," the captain answered.
Silence fell over them, as Fargo could not argue with this reasoning. The captain was right, the lives of every single member of the pirate crew depended on his decision. The burden that rested on his shoulders Fargo only now realised. He had already accepted a great risk for all of them by agreeing to have the Amethyst completely repaired in this small but nevertheless quite often frequented harbour. Even if he did not openly admit it. He was probably not willing to simply hand over his first mate to his fate, as his words were supposed to make it seem.
"You don't fool me. I can see through your sincere intentions," Fargo countered when he had come to his realisation.
"You do? I guess that would make you the first," the captain was amused and was about to lapse into one of his pained laughs when something else grabbed his attention.
A short rustle followed by a muffled groan reached the ears of the two men and their eyes immediately moved to the third in the room.
"Looks like he made the right decision, rejoice Fargo. Now you can ask your pointless question," the captain commented and then, as he stepped out, lapsed into a superior laugh that resounded through the inn.
"Nathan!", Fargo ignored the pirate's pointed remark and hurried to the injured man's side.
The latter blinked until his pupils finally adjusted to the light conditions. He quickly acknowledged the attempt to sit up. Following his name, he turned to the other.
"Fargo?" he breathed incredulously, "am I dreaming?"
"No, boy. You're not anymore, thankfully," his mentor rejoiced at the question clearly directed at him.
"Where am I? What happened?" the first mate demanded answers to the frighteningly large gaps in his own memory.
"You were wounded in battle. Your injury subsequently became infected and you lost consciousness for a long time. I... we, brought you ashore here to be treated by a doctor," Fargo described in brief.
"The captain allowed this?" echoed Nathan incredulously.
"I guess he killed several birds with one stone. The ship was very banged up," Fargo explained.
"Where is she? How is she?" asked Nathan in response, panicked.
"Who do you mean, Nathan?", Fargo didn't understand.
"The amethyst," the younger man specified.
Fargo only gave him a critical look for the moment.
"She's moored out at the harbour. The damage was repaired while we were waiting for you to recover. The captain wants to sail again tomorrow," he elaborated.
"That's good news," the first mate was pleased to hear.
Fargo gave him a sad look.
"What is it? Is something wrong?", Nathan searched for an answer for his mentor's gloom.
"No, no. Don't worry, everything is fine," the latter assured him, but the sadness did not leave his gaze.
"Something is wrong, Fargo. Come on out with it," Nathan demanded firmly.
"It's all right, Nathan. Get some more rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day," Fargo thwarted his attempts to get more out of him. If Nathan had been in better health, he probably wouldn't have been able to stop him from probing further. But the other's exhaustion was playing into his hands at the moment. Nathan realised that it would be best to spend the remaining hours on land resting as best he could to regain his strength. A few minutes later, he was sleeping peacefully again. Fargo remained sitting on the chair next to his bed, as he had done the last few days, and watched over him until his eyes fell shut.
The moon was already high in the sky when Fargo woke up again due to his uncomfortable sleeping position. He had been dreaming. He had dreamt that Nathan had woken up again. He would have recovered and chosen to come with him. Sadly, knowing very well that this would only remain his wishful thinking, he looked over at the other who was lying on his side in the bed with his back to him.
Fargo let his gaze wander thoughtfully out the window of the guest room. The night was dark, the moon mostly hidden behind thick clouds. An idea began to take shape in his mind. A daring plan whose implementation he had no time to reconsider and yet he decided to seize the opportunity that presented itself to him in these moments.
Carefully he rose from his chair and then silently walked towards the door of the room. Keeping one ear to the wooden door, he tried to guess what the situation was with the two pirates who were supposed to be keeping watch in front of it.
Silence met him for the moment, but then he heard a sawing snore.
Satisfied, a grin crept onto his face and he stepped back to the bed. He carried the duffel bag containing the few belongings of his protégé out of the window. The bag hit the floor with a thud. Fargo hoped that nothing had been damaged by the impact, but even if it had, it could be replaced. The one that, in the captain's opinion, no one could replace, he now took on.
Nathan might weigh a lot more than when they met, but he was still quite slim and would probably never be one of the tallest, so Fargo was able to shoulder him without any major problems.
The older man had probably never before been so pleased with the sound sleep the other one tended to cherish. He could now easily carry him out of the room without him noticing anything of his plan. By the time he woke up, they would be so far away from all this that any argument he might have would be in vain.
Fargo now realised that he would have to force the younger man's hand after all, and if that meant getting him out of here at this pitch-black hour, then so be it.
He opened the door cautiously and stuck his head out into the corridor a little way. As suspected, the two pirates were sleeping instead of keeping watch. The nights he had kept so quiet that they were plagued by boredom had done their part. Since there had been no sign of him attempting an escape after the captain's visit, they had become careless. This now paid off for him. Overcome by maturity, both had slumped down on the spot and were now very likely dreaming of treasure, women and a full butt of rum.
Fortunately, the inn where they were staying was not far from the harbour. If Nathan had been in a room facing the sea, he might even have caught a direct glimpse of the Amethyst when he asked him about the ship's whereabouts.
Fargo, however, did not give the three-master a glance and headed straight for a small boat that most likely belonged to a local fisherman. Big enough to get them both out of here and small enough that he could steer it alone. He nimbly brought Nathan on board, then hurried back for his belongings and untied the ropes. With one foot he pushed the small boat away from the quay and then went behind the wheel. He gave the man, still fast asleep, an appraising look and then set course.
The sun was slowly creeping over the horizon when Nathan woke up to the familiar cry of the gulls above him and the rocking of the waves below. Once again faced with the problem of waking up in an unexpected environment, he looked around searchingly. He was clearly on a ship, but nothing around him even remotely resembled the Amethyst. Apart from him, there seemed to be only one other person on board.
"Ah, you are awake. Very good. We should be arriving soon. How are you feeling?" the joyful voice of his mentor greeted him from the wheelhouse.
"What is this, Fargo?" he retorted sharply, "Where are you taking me?!"
"I'm giving you the freedom I should have given you a long time ago," the elder replied unperturbed.
"You have passed our death sentence! If the captain finds us, he'll kill us on the spot," judged the young pirate.
"And suppose there was a place where he wouldn't be able to track us down?" ventured Fargo.
"There is no such place," Nathan countered simply.
"He won't find us. Trust me," Fargo pleaded.
"Don't you remember who you're dealing with? He will find us. Nowhere at sea will we be safe from him," Nathan continued to accuse him.
"Trust me like you used to and you will be free of all this," Fargo implored him.
"You want to give me freedom, but all you give me is captivity. If that's what you mean by that, you'd better have just let me die. The Amethyst means freedom to me, something you will never understand. You've always hated her, I know that. But you shouldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions about others. Take me back and I'll put in a good word for you with the captain," Nathan tried to negotiate with him.
"What makes you be so blind, boy? With your skills, you could make it this far. Why are you so eager to live out the rest of your days on this damnable barge?", Fargo also became louder, who just couldn't understand why the other one didn't want to take this unique chance.
Tense silence fell around the two.
"Because it is my destiny," Nathan finally replied.
Fargo shook his head in resignation.
"Whatever you say, but at least give me a chance. Just a few days to possibly change your mind after all. If I can't, I'll let you go back. You certainly won't get into trouble. They will know that it was I who had the idea of escaping. The captain knew from the beginning that you would react like this and I guess I knew it too. Why else would I have presented you with such a fait accompli when I was sure you were thinking like me," Fargo pleaded, clutching at the last straw.
Nathan took his time thinking about it, but then relented, "All right. You have four days, then I will return to the Amethyst. Four days, Fargo. Use them wisely."
"Thank you. That will have to do," the old helmsman replied, imagining only too well that what he was about to do might be an extremely difficult undertaking.
Nathan had been through a tough school. The captain did not award the position of first mate lightly. It had to be earned and hard-won in the ranks of the pirates. He was used to doing what he thought was right. There was a strict hierarchy on deck. Nobody except the captain himself had anything to say to him since then, and he seemed to have exerted an immense influence on Fargo's former apprentice. So much so that he was now looking for the boy of old in him, almost in vain. But he would not give up hope. Nathan had given him four days and he would use every single second of them.