“So, is this the man?” Cathern looked at the figure on his knees through the iron bars of the ship’s small brig. The young man reeked of alcohol and vomit. His appearance was no better than his foul smell. His clothes and hair were grimy with a mixture of sweat, blood and puke. He had vomited in brig and lain in it while passed out. The man kept his head downcast, unwilling to meet the eyes of his captain. His writs were bound in shackles. Johan stood beside Cathern and spoke quietly, “Aye, this is the drunken scoundrel, the thief.”
The man winced a bit at the words but said nothing. His head pounded from too much rum the eve before and from the beating he had received after being caught in his crimes. There was no doubt of his guilt though he himself barely remembered what he had done. “What is your name?” The quiet and feminine voice of the captain registered but he could not find the strength to answer. Johan bellowed out loudly, “The captain asked you a question you worm! Answer her! If I have to answer for you you’ll regret it you miserable thief!” The man’s stomach nearly heaved again. It would have been a dry heave. The seriousness of his situation was just now beginning to dawn on him through his hang over. In a low voice he whispered, “Francois Perot from Cherbourg, Captain”.
“So Francois Perot from Cherbourg, do you have anything to say for yourself? I am told you got drunk, stole a purse of coins and a small gold crucifix from one of the other crewman and when caught in the act by a powder monkey, you beat the boy of ten summers bloody before others came to his aid. What do you have to say for yourself?” Cathern crossed her arms across her chest and looked down at the wretch. Francois looked up for the first time, meeting Cathern’s eyes just briefly before looking away. “It was the drink. I don’t know what came over me. I swear Captain; I have never been in trouble before. I swear it! I swear I didn’t mean it! I swear….” The man broke down in sobs, ashamed of his guilt and fear of what his punishment might be. Cathern looked at Johan, her reliable first officer. “Is that true, has he been trouble free? And is he a worthy sailor?” Johan looked at the wretch and thought a moment, “Aye, this is the first bit of trouble he has caused and he is hard working with the ropes. It doesn’t excuse anything though. Jon, the young boy he beat, has a broken nose, and it looks two black eyes in addition to some teeth knocked out. He’ll live though.” Francois continued his sobbing, his shackled hands over his face.
Cathern motioned for Johan to follow her up for some fresh air. As they departed Francois was mumbling through his sobs, “I’m so sorry Jon…I didn’t mean it…so sorry….” The two went to the bow of the ship, the morning glow of the sun and fresh sea air welcoming them. “Well…what do you think Johan? He seems contrite enough but it’s no excuse for what he did. Discipline and order must be maintained.” Johan took his cap off and rubbed his head. He had started loosing his hair at a rapid rate since assuming the position of first officer. “It’s a bad business this. He could have killed the boy. And the theft of money let alone Renaud’s crucifix? Very bad business indeed this is. There are several offences here. Not just one. It cannot go unpunished Captain.” Cathern gave a sigh and nodded. “Very well. Tomorrow punishment will be meted out. Six lashes for drunken disorder, twelve lashes for beating Jon and he’ll be made to walk the gauntlet for his thievery. Inform the bosun’s mate that he’ll need to administer punishment tomorrow at high noon.
[more to come...]
Subject: A Day of Punishment 
Thu Aug 28, 2008 3:16 am
