Black Sam - Prince of Pirates

Forty-One - MORNING AFTER

Forty - One - MORNING AFTER

February 1717

Paulgrave woke with a smile, as the sun highlighted his face in warm golden light. He took a slow, deep breath and snuggled closer to the form in the blankets next to him. “So, about last night.”

“What about it?” Sam replied in a quiet sleepy voice.

Paulgrave rolled over the pillows and looked down at Sam who was still half-asleep on the hard wood floor. “I just feel bad that you had to sleep on the floor.”

Sam looked up at Paulgrave with one eye still shut. “No you don’t.”

Paulgrave rolled back over into his comfortable position. “You know what? Your right, I really don’t feel that bad.”

“Bastard,” Sam muttered.

Paulgrave put his hands behind his head. “I did offer to take the floor, if you remember.”

Sam turned to face away from the bed. “After I had already volunteered, this negates any implied sincerity from you.”

“So, you are saying that only the first person to volunteer is sincere?”

“Something like that now let me sleep.” Sam reached up and grabbed the pillow out from under Paulgrave’s head, covering his own head with it.

“Fine,” Paulgrave said closing his eyes.

A loud knock on the door startled Sam to a sitting position. He took a deep breath then got up to answer it.

Paulgrave sat up. “I’ll get it.”

Sam raised his hand to Paulgrave motioning for him to stay. “I wouldn’t think of disturbing your comfort.” He opened the door and there stood Blackbeard with a smile on his face. “Get dressed and meet me at the ‘Black Dog’, the brethren are meeting,” he said walking away.

Sam took a step out of his room. “Where’s the Black Dog?”

Blackbeard continued down the hallway. “You’ll find it.”

Sam shut the door and leaned his back and head against it. “Do pirates ever sleep?” He looked at Paulgrave still curled up in the soft linens. “What bloody time is it?”

Paulgrave looked out the window above his head. “It looks like we slept in a little.”

Sam pulled back the curtains to see for himself. “It must be one o’clock in the afternoon.”

Paulgrave raised a hand to shield his eyes. “That’s bright.”

Sam shoved the curtains wide open and Paulgrave rolled over and sat at the edge of his bed. “Sorry for taking the bed, Sam.”

Sam sat on the opposite side of the bed, his back to Paulgrave. “I really don’t care about the bed, Paul.” He leaned over and rubbed his face. “Well maybe a little. I just feel angry. Have you ever had one of those days where you don’t care about anything?”

Paul pulled his blouse over his head. “I think so. Are you thinking about Maria?”

Sam grabbed his breeches. “I’m thinking about everything. My failures, the unnecessary loss of life because of choices I made, possibly losing Maria. What the hell am I doing?”

Paulgrave stood up to put on his breeches. “I guess you are forgetting about the ship we just took without any casualties? That our whole crew chose you to be their captain? Those things don’t matter to you all of a sudden?”

Sam threw on his blouse, wild black hair hanging down to his collar. “Of course it does. I don’t know, I guess it’s being here. I hate this place. I don’t want to be here, we’re just wasting time.”