The North's Galleon

Chapter 2: Hide

Denise shivered. It was cold in the storage room, and she'd been down there for close to three hours.

If she had to stay in one spot for a whole week, she might scream.

She heard footsteps on the stairs and swallowed her breath. Most sailors believed women were bad omens, she couldn't risk being found by anyone but the two who had helped her on board.

Whoever it was was whistling a catchy tune, and wasn't being nearly as quiet as the masked man she'd met before. This one seemed to hit every squeaky board as he walked through.

Suddenly, the eyepatched one poked his head around the barrels. "Good evening, lass. Lawrence said your name was...Denise?"

She nodded. He sounded educated, unlike most sailors she had met.

"I'm Gunther. Pleasure to meet you."

"Mm." She nodded. "Same to you."

He started scrounging through his pockets, and finally pulled out a half piece of bread and some roasted duck. "I offended our cook by not eating it, so I hope you enjoy it."

"Did you eat anything?"

"Meh. I'll probably cook something for myself later. Get him even angrier with me. He hates it when I cook." He smirked slightly. "Says I smoke up the kitchen too much, can't get the burnt taste out of his pans, and boil his pots dry."

She snickered.

He laughed quietly. "Enjoy. He's the best cook I've ever had. Can't promise my pockets didn't ruin it though."

"Thank you."

"Pleasure." He stood up and saluted. "G'night, Denise." And he left, squeaking every board on the way out.

Denise smiled and nibbled on the bread. It definitely had the taste of pocket lint, but it was remarkably good.

Suddenly, there was another creak on the steps. She froze in place. This was a much heavier person than the other two, making the creaks longer and louder.

"Damned Gunther, says I'm the best cook he's ever had and then doe'n't eat his dinner." The man huffed. "Always complains I never make duck, so I make him duck, and he don't eat it. Spoilt brat. Oughta make him cook dinner 'imself. 'Cept he'll burn the pots until you can't clean it off."

Denise shuffled herself deeper into her little nook as the man walked past. He was probably twice the size of Gunther, with a beard that hid most of his front.

"Well, y'know what, when he's tryna get drunk later I'ma tell 'im he can't have any rum until he eats his dinner. 'Cept there won't be any to eat 'cause he threw out his portion. And then what'll he do? Go to bed sober and hungry, is what he'll do. And then he's gonna complain that he's hungry tomorrow, and I'm gonna have to deal with that." The cook slammed a box down in front of Denise's hidey hole, and locked eyes with her. "...well, hullo there."

"Uh..."

He glanced at the bread in her hands. "Ohhhh. Cap'n's gonna have his head for this."

She whimpered. "Please don't tell anyone I'm here! I'm just trying to get away from someone and Gunther and that masked guy agreed to help!"

"Gunther and Lawrence agreed on something?" He stroked his mustache. "Must be important." He winked. "Don't worry, lassie. I won't tell a soul. But I'll let Gunther know not to go giving up his rations. I'll try to sneak you some foodstuffs." He reached through to pat her head. "Sebastian. You?"

"Oh, uh, Denise."

"Pleasure to meet you, Denise." He smiled. "Sleep well, and enjoy your food." And he walked out. "Maybe I should give Gunther some extra rum or somethin'..."

~~~

A/n: someone has caught our little stowaway...wonder what will happen next?

As always, thanks for reading, please remember to vote, comment, and share, and I'll see y'all soon!