Page 2 of A Flash of Golden Fire

The men laughed harder and some even hooted, and my foggy brain couldn’t keep up.

I concentrated on dealing with the hunger pangs that assailed me and rehearsed ways I could approach this formidable man who took up space with such entitled ease.

“Hello, my name is Simon White. I’d like a position on your ship.”Or, perhaps I should say,“Simon White here. You gotta place for me on board?” or“I’m strong and quick—when I’m fed, at least—Are you taking on crew?”

None of these were likely to get me what I needed, so I sat there, suffering, whilst they shoveled beef stew into their gobs and tore up whole loaves of bread to devour amongst themselves. My mouth became dry as I watched. What I wouldn’t do for an ale or even a paltry glass of water.

There were things I’d thought about doing. Things that men paid dearly for in the back alleys and the whorehouses. But I couldn’t bear the thought of trading an activity I enjoyed so much for food and drink or coin. I hadn’t gotten to a point so desperate to fall into that. If I could only get onto Captain Martin’s ship, I wouldn’t have to contemplate a life of whoredom.

“I know you’re watching me,” Captain Martin said.

It took a moment to realize his words were directed my way.

“Why don’t you grow a set of bollocks and come over, if you’re so interested?”

I gaped at him through the pain of my empty stomach, surprised to be addressed at all.

“Hmm. Perhaps you are deaf…or dumb…or both.”

His words were cruel but his attitude benign, as if he didn’t really give a damn whether I responded.

Such a long spell since I’d said a word to anyone, I had to clear my throat before speaking. “I can hear you,” I finally got out.

His eyes widened and a smile stretched his lips, like treacle spreading on a plate. “Well, well, well. The filthy cur speaks.”

He was right about the filthy part.

“Stop hiding in the shadows. Show yourself, man,” the captain said, beckoning with a finger.

I found myself obedient to his natural authority and worried about the reaction of his men if I didn’t heed their captain’s request. I pushed off the stool. My knees buckled, but I took a breath and fought the collapse, my heart beating a tattoo and my mouth dry.

I’d wanted the attention of the captain, but now that I had gained it, I wasn’t at all sure what to do with his interest.

“Aw, leave him alone, Dinesh. He’s as dirty as a stray kitten and likely as nasty.”

I straightened and tried to smooth my filthy mop, as if to belie the statement, but my hands were just as grimy as my hair. Probably more so. Perhaps I should have stripped naked in the rain and taken a scrub brush to my skin. Captain Martin’s men, who had gathered their garments from a variety of distant lands, were nonetheless cleaner than I’d expected a pirate crew to be. They regarded me with skepticism as I approached, and I couldn’t blame them. I cleared my throat and summoned courage.

“My name is Simon Bartholomew White,” I said, doing my best to level a steady gaze at the captain. “I’m looking for a place, if you please. I want to come aboard your ship.”

He laughed. “What makes you think I have a ship?”

I blinked at him. Glanced at his men. I didn’t know what to say. I scowled with frustration and tugged the leather purse from my boot. I held the pouch towards him with shaking fingers.

The captain regarded the offering with distaste, as if I were holding a dead rat.

“What do you have there, Simon Bartholomew White?” he said with some amusement.

His eyes—the colour of stormy seas—held untold depths.

“Enough coin to convince you to take a chance on me, Captain.”

The purse held all I had, and I’d come close to spending it. But the benefits of one night’s food and lodging were a waste when I needed a position in order to ensure my long-term survival. Then again, perhaps a bath and a full belly would have bettered my chances.

Some of the men laughed, and others cursed my boldness. The captain regarded me for a long moment.

“As it so happens, I do have a ship. Called theArrow.”

His men turned and chatted amongst themselves, losing interest in our conversation.