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STAKE
OUT
BY: BarbG*** “Does it hurt?” Norrington’s voice came from above him, but Will couldn’t crane his neck far enough to see it, nor would he want to if it were possible. The sun beat against his skin, a hundred times amplified from the duration of exposure and when Will looked up into the sky he saw roses and pinks and ambers rather than the blue it should have been. “I suppose it would, all things considered,” Norrington continued. A wave crashed over the bow and the salty spray barely settled on his skin. The exposed nerves of his skin screamed with the sudden chill, and then the moisture all too fleetingly evaporated. Will worked his mouth, a hundred curses in his repertoire, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and the wasted breath needed to speak seemed too high a cost. He lowered his head back to the deck as more sweat treacherously slipped down behind his ear. He licked his dry lips with his dry tongue and waited. “You are learning,” Norrington said. He was in Will’s field of vision now, holding with him a cup of something cold enough the condensation beaded up like wet pearls on the edge of the copper cup. Will closed his eyes just before one of the drops fell fat and heavy against his cheek. He strained, trying to lick it up but moving his head caused it to slip away, joining the sweat still matting his hair. Norrington’s finger dipped into the water, and Will couldn’t help staring at himself reflected upside down in the droplet. “Do you think you can stand another couple hours before sunset?” Another wave crashed over. Mist settled over Will’s exposed body for a full heartbeat and gave him the strength he needed. “Rot in the lowest level of hell,” he said. The words didn’t form right and sounded they sounded foreign to his own ears, but Norrington was able to get the just of the words. “Very well then. Good day to you. See you in the morrow.” The sun eventually set, bringing with it delicious shade for the first while. Shade turned to dusk and dusk again to darkness and the sweat in his hair and behind his ear dried up, leaving him a husk where he had once been complete. Closing his eyelids scratched at his eyes, and if he would have had any tears left, they would have slid down his face. Thirst hummed through his entire body, but centred in his throat and dried lungs. Dreams came to him that night, feverish visions not of undying pirates or tattered sails but of standing in pools of the sweetest water and having it dry up and shrink away as he reached. Norrington again, standing over him. At first it was part of the dream, the man’s laughing skull becoming complete as he drank the water Will could not reach, and then the real Norrington, standing over him with two waterskins in his hand. His arms had been unfettered in the night, and he sat up to a sudden serge of vertigo, and Norrington offered both to him. Will looked up, waiting for the trick. He didn’t have to wait long. “The one on my right is drinking water from my own supply, pure and simple,” Norrington said. Will felt his mouth drop open despite his dehydration. Norrington offered him the left on, however. “Sea water,” he said, as Will sniffed the brackish water that made the inside of his mouth ache. “To hasten yourself along. It’s your choice, really.” Will threw the skin away, hearing it land against the railing. He stared straight ahead, not at Norrington, not at the wet stain of water spreading across the deck. Norrington offered him the waterskin in his right hand, but held it just outside Will’s reach. “Where is your place, boy?” he asked. A long silence. The sun beat down on his back as he sat up, but Will couldn ’t take any more of it. He looked to Norrington, seeing the coldness to the man’s eyes, and back down to his grimy own hands. “William?” Norrington prompted. “You’re place?” “Here,” Will said with unconvincing muster. “With you.” The waterskin fell against his thigh, but Will didn’t touch it. Norrington’ s hand was on the back of his neck, and the skin against his dry skin made him flinch from the touch. “Well, then, drink up me hearty,” Norrington said, enunciating clearly. |
