Honor Among Thieves
“Sir, the sailing master says we...um...”
The boy couldn't have been 15 years old yet. The words drained from his mouth, his message forgotten. He had never seen the captain drinking before, no one had.
“Says we are on course I presume?” the captain asked. The boy started. For whatever reason he had not expected to hear the captain's usual deep, solid voice.
The boy was sure he looked casual as he replied, “Aye sir. Says we are makin' good time too.”
“Aye, that's good lad.”
The boy was turning to leave when he heard, “Ever had rum before boy?”
“None worth mentionin' sir,” the boy replied as he turned back, his eyes flicking to the bottle on the table.
“Well if there's a bottle worth mentionin', it's this one here. Have a seat lad,” the captain motioned to a stool adjacent to him. “An yeh might as well shut the door too, don't need it any colder in here.”
The boy pulled the door shut as he stepped into the captain's quarters. The smell of salty wood filled his nose. The seasoned sailors told him within a month he wouldn't be able to smell it anymore. He hoped they were wrong.
The captain stood and pulled a small box out of a drawer on the shelf next to him. The boy's eyes never left the box as he sank into his chair and watched his captain gently set it on the table. Never would the boy have imagined that such rough and scarred hands could be so soft toward so normal an object. Unlatched and opened, those same hands pulled from the velvet depths of that box two small crystal glasses. The candle light caught the facets of the crystal like fire burning within a jewel. It seemed an eternity in an instant that the boy was lost in the dancing light, for he had never seen such cups. He was snapped back to himself as brown liquid sloshed into one of the glasses. He looked up and found that the box was gone.
“Shoulda had these out to begin with, 'tis a shame to be drinkin' such a fine drink straight from the bottle. A man can overlook such rudeness when alone I spose, 'taint somethin' I can overlook with company though. Queen gave me that bottle over ten years ago. Not much of a drinker, so I been savin' it.”
The captain set the half empty bottle on the table. He lifted one of the glasses as if it were a robin's egg and set it down in front of the boy.
The captain raised his glass as if to toast, and the boy hurried to grab and raise his in kind, nearly spilling it in the process.
The two sat there for a handful of moments, the captain staring into nothing and the boy watching the captain.
The captain's mind wandered below deck. Men were sleeping where they could.
“To humanity,” the captain finally grunted, and he emptied the cup in a single draught. The boy took a sip himself, surprised by the smoothness of the liquor as the thick syrupy sweetness took hold of his senses.
“Aye sir, you weren't foolin', this is the best rum I imagine I'll ever taste!”
“Aye lad, that's truer than you know...” the captain replied.
The unlikely pair sat in silence; a calm that was measured only in the creaking of the boat as it rocked. The captain again staring into the depths of his thoughts as the boy sipped his precious liquid.
The captain's mind went deeper into the ship's belly. Soon all that could be seen was a thin thread of light. He followed it.
The boy set his empty glass down and prepared to get up and leave but was forestalled as the captain picked up the bottle and refilled both glasses.
“Do you mind a question sir?” asked the boy as he settled back into his seat.
“Don't mind much at all at this point lad, ask away,” the captain replied before downing his second glass.
The boy paused as he gathered his thoughts and his glass, “...You mentioned you were saving this, I am curious as to what for...and why share it with the likes of me?”
“I can think of no one better to share it with lad. The quality of this drink would be lost on most men aboard this ship, and they have all long since lost their innocence. You may have lost yours too boy, but it is not so far off as theirs, I'm certain you still own your soul. 'Tis no one more deservin' of this rum than you lad, especially on this ill-fated night.”
“Ill-fated sir?” the boy asked. As far as he could see everything about tonight was going swimmingly.
The thread of light was connected to a keyhole. The captain allowed himself to pass through the door. The room was dark, save for a lone candle set upon a shelf.
“Ill-fated boy. You asked what I was savin' this bottle for...” the captain refilled his glass and drained it again, not waiting for the boy this time. “...Been savin' it for the end lad.”
The boy was unable to understand what the captain meant, but before he could ask another question the captain threw out one of his own.
“Do yeh know about the men who died a few days ago on the east end of the queen's country?”
“Only rumors sir, and ones I dare not believe.”
“Believe them boy. Five days ago something fell from the sky. God only knows what it is, and to God it should have been left. Those men found that object and went to messin' with it. They unwittingly turned themselves and every body within three miles to dust. Only soul to make it out was the man who was doin' the tinkerin'. Havin' his hands on it musta kept him alive for whatever reason.”
The boy hadn't yet decided if he believed the rumors or the captain, but he figured more rum couldn't hurt. He finished his glass and held it out on the table. The captain filled both cups and continued.
“The queen ordered that God-forsaken thing to be brought to one of her islands in the South. You know what for boy?”
Eyes wide and face pale, the boy shook his head.
“She wanted it on the island to keep her people safe. That much I admire her for, but that was only half her motive.” The captain' eyes glazed over again and he absentmindedly took a small drink from his cup.
The candle was set at an angle, he had figured around thirty degrees should do, so the flame would rise above the top side of the candle. Along the spine of the angled candle ran a fuse.
“She wanted it studied to learn how to use it against her enemies. She wanted it on that island to keep it further from them until her men could figure it out.”
The boy was processing all of this, albeit at a slower pace than normal as the effects of the rum began to take hold.
“That thing killed nigh on three hundred souls in the blink of an eye, and with no damage or trace to be spoken of. Left only a pile of ashes, one for each body.” The captain continued staring, holding his glass to his chest.
After a couple minutes the boy asked, “So you think this thing will kill us all?”
The captain turned his head to look straight into the eyes of the boy.
The fuse ran off the shelf to a knot of eleven fuses.
He gently set his full glass down on the table, but kept a hold of it. “I think it would have lad. Humans aren't ready for such power. Aside from mass genocide, its anyone's guess what such a mechanism is capable of. I would hope that whatever energy it uses could be used for good in the right hands. But we do know the devastation it can wreak, and what do we do not even a week after discovering it?”
Each of the eleven fuses ran to a separate barrel.
“We plan not to learn, help, or save, but to kill. That is our instinct boy, that is what we do. That thing...right now that thing can only cause harm. We are not ready for it. I only hope that by the time we find it again we are.”
The captain began to drink as the boy asked, “Find it again sir?”
Nestled in the middle of the barrels was a chest with a soft glow emanating from its seams.
The captain set down his empty glass and replied, “Aye lad.”
The boat rocked back and forth a handful of times before he continued. “Yesterday the queen summoned me. It's not often someone in her position requests the aid of a man such as myself. Piracy is hangable, so she would never be caught dead dealing with us. We have a history though, and she needed someone she could trust to do something she shouldn't.”
The captain grabbed the bottle and held it against a candle to judge how much was left. He frowned before filling his cup halfway and pushing the bottle toward the boy, who had yet to touch his latest glass. The captain held his glass against the table with both hands and looked into it.
“I racked my brain all night boy, but I just couldn't see any other way. I couldn't sail the ship on my own, they surely would have caught me. I couldn't leave the ship after setting sail, they would have tortured you all when you landed. I had to set off full crew or they would have noticed something was amiss and followed us or stopped us. I ran every scenario in my head, and there was no way to do it without taking you all with.”
A bit of wax dripped to the shelf as the candle shortened.
The captain drank his final half cup and gingerly set it down. The boy, never taking his eyes off the captain, not even to blink, raised his glass and sipped from it. The more the captain talked, the more confused the boy became. Perhaps the rum had gotten to the captain too.
“I regret such a great loss, you all are the best crew to sail the oceans.” A single tear rolled down the captain's face and sank into his beard.
The boy's face turned red as his mind raced. Never before had he seen a tear shed by a man such as this. He quickly decided it was best to leave. He shoved back his stool, “I best be off sir, I've been away for some time now.” He headed for the door without hesitating. As his hand grasped the latch his manners caught up with him. He turned back to the captain, careful not to look him in the face, “Thank you sir, this was a treat I won't soon forget.”
The room brightened as the candle burned to its critical length and lit the fuse.
The captain nodded, acknowledging the boy's thanks. The boy opened the door and slipped through it. Before he could get the door shut he heard the captain say, “Eh lad.”
The boy put his face in the door, not wanting to step back in, “Yessir?”
“What's yer name lad?”
The fuse burned its way toward the knot.
The boy hesitated. Between being caught off guard and the rum doing its work, the boy had to dig a bit to find the word.
The room brightened again as the spark embraced the knot.
“William, sir.”
Eleven snakes of flame wormed their way through the darkness.
“Thank you William,” the captain nodded.
The boy nodded and shut the door.
Eleven sparks sank into eleven barrels.
This short story was written for the Elegant Literature contest #23. The final draft was completed on 31 August 2023. There is an Author’s Cut that I will post soon.