The Cabin Boy

The Storm

Author's note: Second chapter, yay! Votes and comments (and fans, but I don't want to be too demanding) would be lovely and would make me very happy!

"Henry, where are we going to put him?" asked Hawking at supper that evening.

As a torrent of wind buffeted the ship, howling like a beast, as Henry looked up from his unappetizingly boiled carrots.

Despite the poor fare, Henry was glad that he did not have to eat below with the rest of the men. The Resolution - what he had named his ship, finding it very apropos for his own resolution to be successful in this endeavour - was, though not a grand ship like those in the Royal Navy, sufficiently large. She was respectable enough to allow him to have his own cabin and small other room that served as both a study and a dining room.

"Where are we going to put who?" asked Henry. He put a carrot in his mouth and chewed, reminding himself to be thankful that he had food at all, especially considering what had occurred on the last expedition.

"Your new cabin boy, of course," said Hawking.

Henry shrugged. "Rig a hammock below for him with the rest of the men," he said.

"There isn't room for him. And besides, would you put a boy down there with the rest of the men?" asked Hawking.

Henry chuckled. "Edgar, have you become soft while on shore? You're concerned for his comfort? Weren't you a cabin boy in your years in the Navy, before you were a midshipman?"

"Indeed I was. The very reason for which I am concerned for the boy's safety," said Edgar, fingering the scar above his eyebrow nervously.

Henry sighed. "I can hardly let him stay elsewhere, can I? To show preferential treatment towards one member of the crew and not another would undermine my authority. The men already despise me as it is. And they would despise John should be treated any differently than they."

"I would think it difficult for them to despise the boy," said Hawking.

Henry raised his eyebrows. "Oh? What do you mean?"

"Most of our sailors are older than those in the Navy - indeed most of them are retired from there, as I am - and so many of them have children. I came upon two men menacing John. But before I could stop them, they were reminded by the others that John is a child. Apparently, he reminds many of them of their sons," said Hawking. He shrugged. "But as much as they like John, their quarters is not a place for him to live."

Henry sighed. "Very well. Then he can stay in your cabin."

Hawking looked a little put out. "You don't expect me to put up a cabin boy in my own quarters, do you?" said Henry.

"I suppose not-" began Hawking, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come," called Henry.

The door was opened by sailor, one who was sopping wet. "Sir," he said in a thick accent, touching an imaginary cap. "The storm's worse than we thought it would be. The boatswain's calling for you, sir."

Henry sighed as the Resolution gave an alarming rattle and pitched to one side suddenly. He looked at Hawking and the pair of them snatched their hats and coats from the hooks on the wall. The sailor led them up the stairs as the ship began to sway from side to more violently than she had before.

"Bloody hell!" cursed Hawking as he stumbled to one side, slamming into the inside of the hull of the ship. "She's lurching worse than the Duchess of Gloucester during a waltz!"

Henry laughed. It was true. The Duchess, a massively fat old lady, had the tendency to lurch about when she danced. Perhaps it had something to do with the copious amounts of punch she consumed at every occasion.