A Dagger Master's Deal
Captain Teege At Your Service
I woke in a large bed, obviously in the captain’s quarters. Through the small port hole window I could tell it was still light out and I tried to calculate what time it could be. “The ship was on me not long before noon.” I said to myself, and though the light came in clearly I could tell the sun was setting. It had to be around 7:00 or so, but that would mean I’ve been out for 9 hours. I immediately attempted to sit up, but entire backside flared with heat and pain, as if I could feel nothing else. I felt as if I was being torn a part. That’s when I first realized the white clothes wrapped around my body that were quickly soaking up with blood. Another flare of pain came, I don’t know if I screamed or anything, I just remember passing out before a man’s shadow was over me.
By the time I woke again it was dark. Only shadows made by the moon’s light through the window bounced off the walls. As my eyes adjusted, I remembered everything. Slowly and painfully, I pushed the sheets off my chest to reveal a set of clean wraps around my upper body. Who changed the bandages? Who undressed me? These questions were answered by a short ruffling sound to my left. I turned my head to see a man sleeping in a chair by my side. The captain of this vessel.
He wore a heaving dirty black cloak and white tunic underneath, with a large hat that had several large pheasant feathers poking out of it. As I was examining him his right eye popped open and starred at me. If my entire backside had not been throbbing I probably would have jumped.
For a minute we locked gazes, both my eyes boring into his one before he stood up and walked to the bed and sat down beside me. We were only inches a part and we just starred. I didn’t know what to say and I had no idea what his mind was thinking. Soon his stare turned into curiosity and he finally spoke in a low almost whisper. “How is it that my crew spots an easy for the pickings fancy fishing ship made for two or three men in the middle of the ocean? How is it that my men find a young girl sailing that fishing ship? And how is it that six of my men are killed trying to subdue that young girl?
I noticed his emphasis on the word girl on that sentence, but I couldn’t tell if it was in curiosity, anger, or lush. I only looked at him not wanting to tell him anything, so I asked him the one question still racing through my mind. “How is it that I’m alive?” He answers, “I have questions, which tend to get answered better when you’re alive.” “And what if I refuse to answer?” “You’re not in the best position to be refusing my simple demands.” “Are you threatening to throw me over if I don’t answer?” “No. Do you want to know why?” He stops as if waiting for my yes or no, but I just give him the coldest face I can. He finally says, “Because, I need somebody to take over for those six dead men.”
I only give him a look of question before asking, “Why would you waste medicine and wraps on me when it will take much more time for me to heal than for you to get more crew members?” A smile curves on his mouth before saying, “Wraps, yes my dear, but medicine, no, I am only wasting rum and salt water on your life. It may explain why you flinch in pain every four seconds.”
“That’s not the real reason you’re keeping me alive, what is?” “If you would rather, I could let you die of infection, but I feel the longer you’re around me the more answers I will get, so let’s start with something easy. What is your name, my dear?” Yeah right, like I’m actually going to tell him my real name, I think. “Mary, Mary Watson.” I say, “And yours?” He stands up and takes a small bow before saying. “Captain Teege, at your service.”
“Nice to meet you Captain Teege.” I say with a bit of possible sarcasm in there. “Now tell me, what are the extent of my injuries.” “Ah, interestingly enough, your front side is covered in nothing but a few bruises, but you need to work on guarding your back side. That’s what is reduced to a chunk of mangled meat. Also your left arm had a sword driven straight through it, leaving a small fracture, and your left leg also had a sword through it but remarkably missed the bone.”
I feel a bit dizzy with all this and close my eyes in nausea. I open them to feel a hand on my forehead before he says, “You also have a nasty infection coming in which is giving you a nasty fever. You need sleep; I will clean your bandages in the morning.” It takes no asking, sleep over comes in that minute.
By the time I woke again it was dark. Only shadows made by the moon’s light through the window bounced off the walls. As my eyes adjusted, I remembered everything. Slowly and painfully, I pushed the sheets off my chest to reveal a set of clean wraps around my upper body. Who changed the bandages? Who undressed me? These questions were answered by a short ruffling sound to my left. I turned my head to see a man sleeping in a chair by my side. The captain of this vessel.
He wore a heaving dirty black cloak and white tunic underneath, with a large hat that had several large pheasant feathers poking out of it. As I was examining him his right eye popped open and starred at me. If my entire backside had not been throbbing I probably would have jumped.
For a minute we locked gazes, both my eyes boring into his one before he stood up and walked to the bed and sat down beside me. We were only inches a part and we just starred. I didn’t know what to say and I had no idea what his mind was thinking. Soon his stare turned into curiosity and he finally spoke in a low almost whisper. “How is it that my crew spots an easy for the pickings fancy fishing ship made for two or three men in the middle of the ocean? How is it that my men find a young girl sailing that fishing ship? And how is it that six of my men are killed trying to subdue that young girl?
I noticed his emphasis on the word girl on that sentence, but I couldn’t tell if it was in curiosity, anger, or lush. I only looked at him not wanting to tell him anything, so I asked him the one question still racing through my mind. “How is it that I’m alive?” He answers, “I have questions, which tend to get answered better when you’re alive.” “And what if I refuse to answer?” “You’re not in the best position to be refusing my simple demands.” “Are you threatening to throw me over if I don’t answer?” “No. Do you want to know why?” He stops as if waiting for my yes or no, but I just give him the coldest face I can. He finally says, “Because, I need somebody to take over for those six dead men.”
I only give him a look of question before asking, “Why would you waste medicine and wraps on me when it will take much more time for me to heal than for you to get more crew members?” A smile curves on his mouth before saying, “Wraps, yes my dear, but medicine, no, I am only wasting rum and salt water on your life. It may explain why you flinch in pain every four seconds.”
“That’s not the real reason you’re keeping me alive, what is?” “If you would rather, I could let you die of infection, but I feel the longer you’re around me the more answers I will get, so let’s start with something easy. What is your name, my dear?” Yeah right, like I’m actually going to tell him my real name, I think. “Mary, Mary Watson.” I say, “And yours?” He stands up and takes a small bow before saying. “Captain Teege, at your service.”
“Nice to meet you Captain Teege.” I say with a bit of possible sarcasm in there. “Now tell me, what are the extent of my injuries.” “Ah, interestingly enough, your front side is covered in nothing but a few bruises, but you need to work on guarding your back side. That’s what is reduced to a chunk of mangled meat. Also your left arm had a sword driven straight through it, leaving a small fracture, and your left leg also had a sword through it but remarkably missed the bone.”
I feel a bit dizzy with all this and close my eyes in nausea. I open them to feel a hand on my forehead before he says, “You also have a nasty infection coming in which is giving you a nasty fever. You need sleep; I will clean your bandages in the morning.” It takes no asking, sleep over comes in that minute.