Chapter Text
"Can I have a smoke? One last wish."
The captain stepped closer, pulled a dark pipe and a silk-embroidered pouch from his pocket, and tossed them to the navigator. Ian would enjoy throwing it all back in the captain's hateful face, but he wanted to smoke even more.
"Won't you ask for the last word, too?"
Without looking at the captain, Ian took a deep drag. Rough tobacco tugged pleasantly at his throat. He lingered it in his lungs, slowly drifted the bitter smoke out, pressed his lips together, and glanced around at the pirates who surrounded him and Radford.
"Soon you will all be saying your last words. Throw your navigator to sharks, stay with that pack of uneducated idiots... Do you even know which way to go next, Radford?"
The captain stepped closer. The wry grin on his lips vanished without a trace.
"I know you'll walk the plank. Maybe you'll find land before the sharks find you, navigator."
"As you command."
Clutching the pipe in his teeth, Ian stepped onto a plank hesitantly. The sight of the blue abyss beneath him made his chest squeeze, but Duffy wasn't about to show fear in front of this crowd of nitwits. After catching his breath, he turned toward the ship and pointed at the setting sun with a cheeky grin.
"I'll give you one last hint — west is that way."
A loud booming sound shook the air as the captain stepped forward and kicked his boot on the edge of the plank. He then stepped closer and grinned at the floundering navigator.
"Let him cool his head, then drag him back and throw him in the hold. The sea is calm today, no sharks in sight, so let him splash about. That bastard made a good point about leaving the navigation to you, idiots."
***
Three hours later a rope ladder struck the side of the ship, and Ian shuddered and rolled heavily over in the water. Gritting his teeth, he swam closer and grasped the wet ropes with his shaking fingers.
"Damn you," he muttered as pirates tossed him, shivering and cold, onto the sun-heated planks.
Ian heard footsteps next to him and saw two boots beside his face. The captain's indifferent voice echoed overhead.
"Everyone on this ship will eventually be damned, and you won't be an exception, Duffy. In the meantime, you'll sit in the cargo hold for a couple of days, then show me which way west is, and I'll really believe you're a good navigator."
Still trembling profusely, Ian raised his hand and somehow made an obscene gesture with his fingers. Radford's smirk turned into a grin. He glared angrily, took a step back, and gave a stark command:
"Get him to a compartment."
"Go to fucking..."
Ian didn't have the breath to tell exactly where Radford should go. The pirates stepped toward him, and he twitched weakly as he watched the deck flash before his eyes. Whether the men dragging him were trying hard to please the captain, or whether their eagerness was personal, Ian could not say for sure. The thump on the compartment’s floor knocked the air out of his lungs, and Ian curled up to wait out the drowsiness.
Half an hour later he moved faintly and reached around him. His fingers stumbled over a coarse, rolled-up sailcloth. Clutching it in his fist, Ian slowly crawled away from the stairs, wrapped himself up, and lay down between the sacks full of sugar.