Page 19 of A Flash of Golden Fire

“You again,” he said.

“I’m afraid so.”

“He ain’t here.”

“He told me to meet him here. With some urgency, in fact.”

“In trouble again?”

“No doubt.” I said, grinning.

“Jesus, yer a prat. Well, you may as well go in, I suppose.”

He held his hand out toward me with the palm up.

I rolled my eyes and pulled out my knife, passing the weapon over.

“Had to use it yet?” he asked.

“A few times,” I said with mock gravity. “To get a second helping of potatoes.”

Boonealmostsmiled.

I opened the door and went into the captain’s rooms, for the second time. The quiet and peace of his quarters felt like a benediction. I wasn’t sure where I should wait for him. Should I strip naked and surprise him that way? But what if he brought someone with him? Perhaps disrobing was a tad risky.

Suppose he hadordered me here to tell me he’d changed his mind, and I wasn’t to be his cabin boy after all? I didn’t particularly want to have that conversation buck naked. I’d best hedge my bets and keep my clothes on, as malodorous as they were. I could always strip later as a calculated move to influence him.

Waiting was not an activity I did well. I soon became restless and then distracted by a large map of the world spread out on Captain Martin’s desk. There were pieces of wood in the shape of miniature boats, placed at various spots, as if he were preparing his fleet for an attack. They might have marked where they’d seen other ships, unless Captain Martin was still a navy officer who was pretending to be an ex-navy officer who was pretending to be a privateer-slash-pirate.

I was too clever to believe that. Although the story would make for a wonderful and thrilling adventure novel.

The tiny wooden boats were so fine. I picked up one to examine it, noting the detail and the workmanship, and that the map must have a magnet beneath it and each of the figures as well, as the wee sailboat needed more force to pick up than I’d expected. When I went to put it back, I couldn’t remember the exact spot the miniature boat had been in. I frowned, my gaze traversing the map and wondering how much time I had until the captain—

Booted footsteps sounded outside. Then a familiar drawl.

“Is White here?”

“Aye, Captain. He’s inside.”

Well, blast.I frantically tried to remember where the little boat had been, hovering my hand over the map.

“I’ll take the knife,” Captain Martin said. “There’s no need to confiscate his blade again. He’ll do me no harm.”

But how could he be so sure? He obviously wasn’t afraid of me in the least. And he was right, I’d ne’er harm him. Not with a knife. He already knew to be wary of tankards of ale.

“Aye, Cap’n,” Boone replied.

I closed my eyes and placed the miniature boat down in a random spot, hoping he wouldn’t notice, and turned around as the door opened.

“Oh, hello,” I said, putting my hands behind my back and smiling with the pretense of innocence.

Captain Martin frowned. “What have you done?”

“I—beg your pardon? What do you mean? I just got here,” I said, unable to keep from glancing at the map. And I knew right away I’d made a mistake. Captain Martin was astute and not easily deceived.

“Simon Bartholomew White. Did you touch my charts?”

I stuttered a laugh. “Of course not. Why would I do that?”

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