After plying him with liquor – sorry, medicine, Prin was a lot more amenable to going back to bed. In fact, he could barely keep his eyes open. Squeaks had insisted that you must go to bed directly after drinking it for the cure to work.

Squeaks walked along close beside him, eyeing the slippery planks of the ship’s deck with suspicion.

“I won’t fall.” Prin assured, although he clutched his walking stick firmly, not entirely sure about it.

After they crossed to the other side and went down the stairs, Squeaks holding onto his arm, just in case, someone walked down the hall towards them.

Someone with white hair in a ponytail and a friendly looking face. If you didn’t know any better.

“Fancy meeting you here!” Mac said pleasantly, although he didn’t actually seem surprised.

They had been walking along slowly, and Prin wondered if he had already been to the galley and somehow gotten around in front of them when he didn’t find them there.

Squeaks stiffened beside him, and Prin could almost smell the boy’s fear sweat. Being in such close and unexpected proximity to his attacker.

“Hello.” Prin said coldly, not giving him even the most polite and perfunctory smile imaginable. Giving him nothing.

Mac looked pointedly at Squeaks. “Would you scram? I’ll take it from here.”

Squeaks stood still beside Prin, frozen in place.

The prince would almost think that the two of them had colluded to get him out here, alone and slightly impaired. Vulnerable. If it hadn’t been for the visceral reaction of Squeaks. Prin did not think he would cooperate with this man in bailing the water out if they were on a sinking ship together. It also proved the truth in his story, if Prin had not already believed it, which he had.

“I said get outa here, before I snap your spine.” Mac said. Then laughed, like it was all in good fun. “Get it? Like a little mouse in a trap?”

Despite the forced joviality, that was enough for Squeaks, and he ran off the way they had come. Although Prin felt sure he hadn’t gone far, and was peeking around a door frame somewhere.

“What do you want?” Prin asked. He tried to keep his voice plain and neutral, although it was a difficult task. Having no experience with this type of man, Prin was not exactly sure how to get rid of him. (Although there must be a way, right?) He didn’t particularly want to give away what Squeaks had told him, for fear of retaliation against him.

“Nothing at all!” Mac said. “Well, maybe your company for just a moment?” He amended. “I’m a much sturdier person to lean on then that creepy little mouse, don’t you think? Frankly, if I were you I would be worried that he had his own motives for getting me alone.” He laughed, making a fake shuddering motion, as though the thought were just too much. Mac offered his arm to Prin. “Where to?”

Prin did not take it, instead leaning against the wall, with his stick as balance. “I like him well enough, he’s my friend.” He was biting the inside of his mouth to keep from saying more. The pains in his belly increased, and even standing upright felt like a challenge.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” Mac asked. “I have some special sweets in my bunk that I got from a far off port. I usually don’t share them with anyone, but you . . ?” He smiled at Prin, to see if any of these efforts were taking root.

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Really? An offer of candy? Prin could feel his eyes narrow. His patience was running thin to say the least. And he had felt all day an erosion in his usually optimistic and friendly personality. “I’m not well, as I’m sure you can see.” Prin said. “It’s not a good time to talk. I wouldn’t try it, if I were you.” He wondered if he meant the words as a threat, the most innocuous words could be. But what was he going to do, club the bigger man over the head with his walking stick? Well, if needs must.

“I had heard you were unwell and that’s why I came around to check on you.” Mac said smoothly. “Elwin sent me.”

Prin’s eyebrows raised, and he could feel the neutral expression all but fleeing from his face, he tried to hold onto it but it escaped handily. “How do you know Elwin?”

“We work together.” Mac said. “A strapping young man, he can shovel circles around us old folks.” He laughed, leaning in close to Prin. “Also, he’s adorable, isn’t he?” He winked. “But I can show you things a kid like him wouldn’t even know about.” He said confidently, leaning closer yet, until their faces were mere inches apart. “And I won’t say a thing to him about it.”

I dare you to touch me. I dare you. The prince was not afraid of him. He felt somewhere in the back of his mind those little alarm bells going off that said he should be, but he wasn’t. A feeling like electricity shot up from his sore stomach and out through his eyes as sparks. His stare hot enough to burn.

Mac, perhaps misinterpreting the look, or just accustomed to living on the edge, did in fact dare. He reached around and put his hand on Prin’s back, pulling him closer to meet him as though expecting a kiss.

The prince, although having already considered that he might be touched, had not fully thought out what to do about it. His mind raced with ideas. His hand was already on the stick, and the stick already near Mac’s foot, so he chose the path of least resistance and picked it up, slamming it back down on Mac’s foot.

He would have rather bit him, so all things considering, he had gotten off easy.

Mac didn’t see it that way, screaming in pain and hobbling backward, releasing Prin.

A few men from the deck gathered at the top of the stairs to see what all the fussing was about, and Prin used the moment to make his escape. He hurried into his cabin and shut and locked the door behind him.

*

Of course it wasn’t long before Squeaks was rapping softly on the cabin door, his voice slipping between the door and it’s frame, mournful and sorry.

“Prin? Prin, m’sorry to be such a coward as ‘at. I don’t mind much if ya never speaks ta me again. Ya’know? I saw what happened, can I come in?”

The prince was curled up on his bunk, the gnawing pit in his stomach having nothing to do with remorse, but only something so much worse.

At first he just ignored it. Or pretended to anyway. After some time of the knocking and whispering going away and then returning with a semi-regular frequency, Prin was worn down and relented.

He got up and unlocked the sturdy bolt, swinging the door wide open.

Squeaks stood there, looking more hunched over and hidden, even then usual. Trying to make himself small. He frowned, the corners of his mouth quivering.

“He’s gone back to work.” Squeaks said. “But he aint happy.” He looked down at his shoes, afraid to meet the prince’s eyes.

“Good, I don’t want him to be happy.” Prin leaned against the door frame. Finally, when it seemed like Squeaks would not just go, Prin stood aside and let him in, locking the door behind him. “I’m not angry at you, if that’s what you’re worried about, you have to protect yourself. I understand.”

Squeaks fidgeted nervously from foot to foot. “I did promise I would watch out for ya.” He fretted. “You didn’t tells him I told ya what he done, did ya?”

“No. I wouldn’t.” The prince said. “I don’t think you should have to live like this, though.” He sat down on the narrow bed and patted the seat beside him.

Squeaks took a hesitant step towards him, looking wary. He looked behind himself at the firmly locked door, and then, seeming to be making a decision on the spot, a decision to trust in his new friend. A trust not easily given, in a friendship he didn’t seem to feel he deserved. He nodded his head, a quick affirmative, and scurried over to sit close beside Prin.

“You poor thing.” The prince said. He touched the skittish boy on the arm, very carefully, like you would touch a feral kitten which you had only just managed to coax out from under the porch after days of brandishing bits of meat and calling softly the name you had invented for it.

He leaned a bit closer to Squeaks, while patting his arm. Prin could feel the hot tongues of pain reaching up from his belly like tentacles. He knew what would soothe his pain, and this boy’s pain at the same time. The prince’s patting turned to a grip on the boy’s arm, which was just a little too hard, and he licked his lips.