Read In The Wreckage: A Tale of Two Brothers for Free Online

 
    “We can get the girl to help us. If we threaten to tell on her, how she brought us food.”
    “Leave her out of it. We might need her help.”  
    “There has to be a way out,” Faro said. “We could side with Jonah, offer to find the map.”  
      “Or tell the truth, offer to work, be part of the crew. Don’t make it worse.”
    “They might throw us overboard.”  
    “Or leave us on an island.”  
    “Or sell us to slavers. That’s what Jonah will do.” Faro paused. “It’s what I’d do.”
    Conall moved Rufus aside and lay down on the bed, staring at the bunk above. Faro was frightened, angry, talking too much. “Don’t provoke anyone. The girl seems all right. Her father can’t be a monster. They’re farmers, looking for a home, not slavers. They won’t kill anyone.” He pulled Rufus close, comforted by the feeling of the dog’s body next to his own. Faro went on muttering, but Conall blanked it out. Rufus relaxed, and soon he was snoring. Conall lay his head down, intending to rest while he figured out what to do next.  
    He woke as the door was flung open. “Out,” said a sailor. “Leave the dog. Captain doesn’t want him roaming the ship.”  
    Conall stumbled to his feet, still half asleep, following the sailer as he led them to the midpoint of the ship and up steps to the main deck. He emerged into fresh air and daylight, the sun on his face for the first time in days.  
    He’d spent most of his life outdoors and the ship felt oppressive inside, away from the endless horizon and the wind on his face. He stopped to stare across the ocean. It was calm now. A light wind filled the sails and the ship glided through the water. A push in the back and a grunt from a sailor told him to keep moving.  
    They were led to the back of the boat, through a door into the living quarters on the main deck. Conall glanced up at the raised poop deck where two row-boats hung from davits. Jonah Argent stood leaning over the rail, looking down at them. “Captain’s stateroom with ‘em,” he growled at the sailor.  
    They entered a companionway, passed rows of doors, some open, and Conall glanced inside to see cabins and living quarters.  
    The sailor led them to the end of the ship and stopped outside a wooden door. “Captain’s waiting,” he said. “In.”  
    Faro and Conall exchanged a glance and stepped into the captain’s room, their faces tense, lips drawn, white and thin, ready to plead their case, or learn their fate, or beg for mercy.

    ≈≈≈≈

    The captain sat in a straight-backed chair behind a table. He wore no uniform, just a plain white shirt, the arms loose, the collar unbuttoned. Something about the man looked tired, as if he’d spent a lifetime working and worrying but still wasn’t satisfied with the results.  
    The room was cramped, the table not much bigger than the chart book that lay open on it. Light streamed into the room through portholes to the side and rear of the ship, with sunlight glinting off the ocean.  
    The captain didn’t look up, staring intently at his maps. Conall and Faro stood in front of the table, saying nothing.  
    They’d had little schooling. A few years at Lerwick primary, with only one teacher. She’d been strict and severe and whenever a child misbehaved they were taken to an office away from the other children, made to stand in silence while an adult ignored them, to feel guilty and ashamed. This was no different. Conall recognised the tactic, caught Faro’s eye and smiled.  
    “Think it’s funny?” The captain looked up and stared at Conall, unrelenting. Behind them the door opened. Conall heard the tap-tap of Jonah’s cane as he entered the room and stood behind them. No chance now for Faro to accuse the first mate, unless he did it to his face.  
    “I saw you both at Lerwick,” the captain said. “Your parents know you stowed away with us?”  
    “We don’t have any,” Faro said.  
    Conall shot a sideways glance