Thomas had finished climbing down the main mast with Antonia, and had bid her adieu with a smile and a dip of his head. On the [i]Skate’s[/i] current tack there was little work to be done, as the sailors had easily set the fine ship to its best line, and the helm had an easy time of following course. Easy enough that Jax had relinquished his coveted position to another, and Thomas had no quarrel with this. 

With his demeanor reorienting to that of a pirate captain as he moved away from the main mast, Thomas moved forward along the ship until he caught sight of a young sailor named Barlow. The boy, not a day older than sixteen, was aiding the boatswain, Mr. Davenport, in splicing a length of rope.

“Mr. Davenport,” Thomas said, stopping before the hardened senior-deckhand. “You’ll have to make do without Barlow for now, I need him in the nest.”

Barlow, with his youthful eyes, was second only to Antonia in the keenness of his vision, and he would do as the lookout during the evening’s leg of the sail. At mention of being needed aloft, Barlow’s shoulders slumped, and his face slacked with disappointment.

“Ah, but Captain, I was hoping to watch your contest with the helmsman.” Barlow said with a whine befitting his age and absent mind.

Davenport responded instantly, reaching over to the boy’s head with a gnarled hand, and cuffing him soundly. 

“Have you taken a leave of your senses, boy? The cap’n needs you in the nest, and you’ll get yer sorry ass up there wivout a fuss, or I’ll gut you me’self to save the cap’n the trouble!”

Thomas merely stared at Barlow as the color drained from the youths face. With a slew of apologies and platitudes, Barlow leapt from his seat beside Davenport, and made off towards the main mast. Thomas didn’t watch him go.

Once the boy was gone, Davenport’s hard face split into a grin. “I never tire of scaring the green ones.”

Thomas chuckled. “I don’t know what I’d do without your formative influence on the ship, Davenport.”

Davenport wagged a piece of the rope he had been splicing towards Thomas. “Well, you’d be a lot poorer, that’s what I’d say. Worth my weight in gold, I am.”

“Gold, you say?” Thomas arched a playful eyebrow to the boatswain. “Perhaps, [i]platina[/i], but gold is pushing your luck.”

Davenport laughed, exposing a mouth full of neglected teeth. “You injure me cap’n.” Platinum was considered a worthless metal in the age of sail. “Silver, at least seems fair?”

Thomas shrugged. “I’ll give you bronze, and let us be done with it.”

“HA! Done.” Davenport said, returning his gaze to the rope. “Good luck tonight, Cap’n. The helmsman seems a wily fellow, so I can’t say you’ll have an easy time of it, but I’ve got a pouch of tobacco says you’ll best him.”

“Aye,” Thomas said, looking up into the forest of rope, cloth, and wood that was the rigging. “I [i]know[/i] I won’t have an easy time of it. But I look forward to sharing the spoils of your wager with you later.” 

Davenport winked a watery eye towards Thomas. “That’s the spirit, Cap’n.”

With a snort and a thin smile, Thomas left Davenport to his work. It was nearing time for the deed to be done, regardless of the outcome. 

Thomas turned to see the majority of the crew gathering around the railings and decking that surrounded the main mast. Among them he caught sight of Antonia, Nicolette, and Jax. Off to the side he also noticed the boy Luc watching from a vantage amidst the shrouds of the aft mast. 

He caught the boy’s gaze and gave him a small salute with his fingers before turning his attention back to the trio of the rogue, the first mate, and the helmsman. Thomas made his way through the crowd to the three, adjusting his hair into a small ponytail at the back of his head as he did so. Once he reached them, he smiled broadly.

“Well, are we ready for the evening’s entertainment?” He said to all three.