"Captain," said his first mate. "We're all aboard and relatively shipshape. I've broken us up into a skeleton crew for the moment; we're organizing and taking stock. We should be as ready as we can be by dawn."
Fengel nodded at his officers, then sighed. "That's good. Carry on." He turned away, toward the door to the captain's cabin.
"Captain," said Henry. Fengel glanced back over his shoulder at his steward. "Is something wrong?"
Fengel wanted to laugh, a dry, black chuckle from deep within in his chest. "No, Henry. Nothing at all." He couldn't quite keep the sarcasm from coloring his voice. "Take stock of our provisions, I'll decide where we're going to sail in the morning."
From the corner of his eye he saw his steward and first mate share a look. "We're going after Natasha," said Lucian, a hard edge to his voice. "Right, sir?"
"What's the point?" Fengel all but shouted. "She got us!" He threw his arms wide. "And she got us well! She was the better pirate. She was the better captain! I stole her ship, but she not only found it again, but took it back and repaid us in full!" He shook his head.
He looked back up at his officers. Sarah Lome joined them, her thick braid swaying as she walked up. Maxim watched from the helm up above. Several of the crew watched from nearby. All shared the same look of concern. "Just...take stock of our provisions," Fengel continued. He turned and strode through the door into the captain's cabin.
A funk permeated the air, the scent of rum, mold, and dust. A box-bed sat just below a wide window at the rear of the space, heavy curtains drawn over rumpled bedding. Fengel blinked. The room was spacious and dark, just as he'd remembered it. Memories rose to the fore at the sight of the bed, of happier times when he and Natasha had been almost-strangers and still blind to the flaws of each other. Euron's ship had been a great hiding place back then; no one but Natasha dared board it. A hollow pang bit at him. Fengel shook his head with a snort and ignored it. He yanked the coverlet free and curled up in a corner, next to an extinguished candle nub and several bottles of rum. There were far too many memories still laying in that bed.
A knocking at the cabin door woke him. Fengel opened his eyes, surprised at how easily he had fallen asleep. The sound continued, someone gently tapping. He blinked and sat up cross-legged, a groan escaping his lips. His back hurt and his mouth tasted horrible. Thick fuzz coated his teeth. "Come in," he said with a yawn, reaching for one of the unopened bottles of rum.
The door cracked wide and Henry Smalls stuck his head in. Seeing Fengel he entered, Lucian sauntering behind. Before they shut the portal Fengel spied the light of an early dawn out on the deck. His first mate glanced about as they approached him. "Goddess," he said. "This place stinks."
"Captain's cabin," replied Fengel. "Natasha would have slept here recently. She was never much for cleaning up." He still felt aimless, though less weary.
"Faugh. It stinks of rum and mildew. Are you sure? How could anyone live in this?"
"There are fresh obscenities carved into the floor by the bed," said Fengel. Lucian and Henry craned their heads to look. Fengel ignored them and picked up a bottle. He swallowed a mouthful of rum, breathing out as it burned its way down his throat and filled his chest with warmth.
Henry turned back to him. "We're holding stable, Captain. You'll want to say a few words later for those we lost, but the crew is as good as can be expected. The ship's a wreck, but she...should serve. Our coal stores are fairly low. Natasha must have burned through most of it to beat us to the Maelstrom. We've...maybe enough to get back to Haventown. I've got Geoffrey Lords downstairs scavenging what he can for breakfast for you. I'll bring it right up."
Fengel sighed. "No need. I'll get something later. I think I'll just sleep a bit more."
Lucian frowned. Henry blinked. "Well, let's at least get your shave, sir."
Automatically his hand went to his chin. A thick patch of whiskers sprouted there. Fengel sighed and shook his head. "No. We'll take care of that later."
His officers stared at each other in alarm. Fengel ignored it. "I mean, what's the point?" he continued angrily. "She got me. I tried to pull one over on her, but she caught up. I've lost us our ship twice now, old and new." He looked down at the bottle in his hands.
Henry walked over and knelt next to him. "Captain, come on now. Things haven't been great lately. But we've still got a ship. Of sorts." The steward frowned. "Never mind. Let me go get you an egg from the kitchens. You always like a good hard-boiled egg."