Events/Of Sea And Superiority

= Chapter One

"...in the belly of the whale..."

The well known quoted phrase made the Master smirk. Against the galley walls danced silhouettes of shady forms from the dim light of the oil lamp. "Ironic, that," Giovanni jested in the quiet of his mind. He considered himself a well-read and religious man with a copy of the huge black leather bound good book in his cabin. The last prophet he had been reading was of Jonah. Now as he sat deep within his ship he wondered at the timing of his choice of readings.

"Damn!" the single word echoed as he cried out when forgetting that stretching his long legs up onto the rough oak table was not a particularly pleasant way to relax since the foundering of his ship.

He gently eased his left leg down to the wooden floor, cradled in the palms of his hands and was glad for the first time that none of his crew could see the handling. He knew they would never have allowed him any peace over such self indulgent coddling. Couldn't blame them either since seeing as how the Commander was known to have relentlessly ridden a few of the greener sailors over just as nasty a wound.

It couldn't be broken. He could still put weight on the limb and it didn't give out when walked upon. After rolling up the rough linen pant leg until the blood-crusty skin shown, Giovanni bent over double to inspect how the healing went.

"Hmmmm," he murmurred, not liking the coloring he was seeing around the edges. But then, he was no physician. The only healer aboard was, of course, missing. That medical man was too soft for coming out the good end of that harrying weather, Giovanni considered, narrowing his eyes as he sat back up. The chair groaned as he settled back against the rungs.

Opened wooden boxes of varying sizes sat jumbled here and there where Giovanni had dropped them. They should be as far from top as possible from curious eyes. Up and down the stairs after many laborious hours had tired the strong man out. Hope was that his injured leg had not been hurt from all the exertion. No matter, it must be done. The open vanilla colored pages of the large log book shown the current inventory, such as was the paltry amount left. But enough of a cache to continue barter with the locals to get his ship seaworthy. He was being optimistic perhaps but he had found good luck to be the lady with him most often.