The groaning of the ship's timbers echoed softly through the cabin as Cody stood before the captain, timidly raising his hand without daring to lift his gaze from the wooden floor.
"Begging your pardon, Captain," he said.
"Silence," ordered the boatswain, giving him a sharp slap to the back of the neck.
The captain eyed the freckled boy, who swallowed nervously, and motioned to the boatswain to let him speak.
"Do you have something to say, Mr. Harris?" asked the captain, studying him closely.
"With all due respect…" Cody began.
"If you're going to address the captain, boy, lift your eyes!" barked the boatswain.
The boy raised his gaze, swallowing again."I only mean to say… it isn't fair that we're punished just for not turning in the pilot."
The captain's expression hardened."What did you say?"
Sammy shot Cody a glare, but he ignored her."We found the pilot unconscious in the hold, sir," Cody said, "and helped him back up to the crew deck."
The captain regarded them all with cold severity before turning toward the boatswain."Where is the pilot?" he asked.
"Drunk, sir," replied Trumper. "And as we all know, since we began running rum and other spirits, it's become his habit to slip down to the hold and milk the barrels dry… Isn't that right, Mr. Knox?"
The assistant, who had been standing quietly in the corner, stepped forward."That's right, Captain," he said. "The pilot was seen sneaking into the hold most every night—stumbling out after, or sometimes crawling."
The captain's brows drew together."And why was I not informed of this?"
The boatswain puffed his chest, standing tall before him as the others looked on."Captain, the pilot reports directly to you. You made it clear that under no circumstance were we to trouble Mr. Wells."
"In fact," added Knox, "he warned us that if we so much as disturbed him, he'd accuse us of harassment before you."
The captain arched an eyebrow, recalling the many orders he had given. He understood why the pilot had been protected—he was vital to their trade—but he could not help glancing toward the secretary, who returned the look with quiet disapproval.
"I understand, Mr. Trumper," the captain said. "I'll see to the matter with Mr. Wells personally."
"And here it's plain enough," the boatswain continued, "that these youngsters, in their clumsy attempt to cover it up, abandoned their posts."
The elf turned back to them."Is that true, Mr. Trumper says so."
The three remained silent.
"I want confirmation," Skippy said firmly. "Or I'll have the cat brought out."
Kayin was the first to answer."When we arrived, the man was already rolling on the floor of the hold. We tried to help him, but the barrels began to shift, and we were all in danger. We can't confirm if he'd been drinking or not."
"Send for the pilot," ordered Skippy.
"The man's drunk as a cask, sir," said Trumper.
"That remark was unnecessary," the captain replied coolly. "You should have reported Mr. Wells without abandoning your stations."
"If I may speak for the crew," said the boatswain, "given the protection you extended to the pilot, no one would have dared report him—considering your standing order, as we've explained."
The captain felt the sting of truth in that, though he maintained his composure. A captain's image, he knew, had to be resolute and infallible—even when he was wrong.
"Mr. Trumper, I'll speak to the pilot myself and I repeat my order not to disturb him," he said. "However, I expect to be informed of every matter aboard this ship, no matter how small."
A heavy silence followed, broken only by the creak of wood and the swaying of the lantern overhead. Then Mr. Paine, the secretary, spoke.
"Forgive the interruption, Captain, but we need the pilot to reach the Xul-Kan estuary before hurricane season. This sale is vital for the accounts—if we run aground or sink, we lose everything."
The captain nodded calmly.
"With the pilot in no condition to work, reaching even the coast will be difficult," Trumper added.
"What are we to do if he's unfit for duty?" Paine insisted.
"Mr. Paine," replied the elf, "I doubt we can find a replacement on short notice."
Then Sammy cleared her throat and raised her hand."Captain, I can pilot," she said without waiting for permission. "I've assisted Mr. Wells many times."
Everyone in the cabin stared at her in disbelief. The captain rubbed his chin.
"If I may, Captain," said Kayin in his polite English accent, "Mr. Wells trained Mr. Worthy to cover for him during his… absences in the hold."
The boatswain and his assistant both nodded. Skippy began to pace, gazing through the stern windows. The sea looked restless, and the horizon was swallowed by darkening clouds. Raindrops began to strike the glass, slow and deliberate.
"I recall you saying you could read charts and handle the instruments," he murmured.
"I can, Captain," Sammy replied.
Skippy pursed his lips and drew a coin from his pocket."What experience have you with navigation?" he asked.
"I can read charts, use the instruments, calculate bearings… and on every voyage to Xul-Kan, Mr. Wells taught me how to enter the lagoon," said Sammy.
The captain looked at Trumper."What options have we, Mr. Trumper?"
"I haven't piloted a ship in twenty years, sir—and my skill with instruments is hardly reliable."
The secretary grew anxious."Captain, surely you don't mean to entrust the ship to a boy with no formal experience!"
"We do want to reach Xul-Kan, don't we?" Skippy replied evenly.
"Yes, but we've already lost part of the cargo. We could lose the rest—our lives included!"
Skippy cut him short."What's your opinion, Mr. Trumper?"
The boatswain glanced at Sammy, then at Knox, before facing the captain again."I don't doubt the lad's ability, sir—but I fear the crew may grow restless or worse… revolt."
The elf smiled faintly."Should you notice any spark of mutiny, send the culprit straight to my cabin."
Trumper nodded, though uncertainty clouded his face.
"I still don't think it's wise," muttered Paine.
"Mr. Paine," the captain said coldly, "allow me to decide what's best for this vessel. You just see to the accounts and report the losses to the governor. Mr. Trumper—and these three—return to your duties. But not before proper discipline is carried out. Five lashes each, for concealment."
The three exchanged uneasy glances but exhaled in relief—at least they wouldn't be hanged. They saluted and followed the boatswain and his assistant toward the door.
Before they stepped out, the captain added:"Mr. Trumper, after the punishment, escort Mr. Worthy to the pilot's cabin."
Sammy froze, then cast a sideways glance at her companions, who avoided her eyes. She tried to hide the flicker of triumph curling on her lips beneath an expression of dread, even as she walked toward her punishment.
Trumper remained standing, watching as they were led away toward the place of discipline. As Cody passed, he felt the man's heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Good throw of the dice, Mr. Harris," murmured the boatswain.
The boy looked up at him, uncertain whether it was praise or mockery. He only nodded and kept walking toward the scaffold.