Testing the twins

“Good,” Davy nodded his head several times over to convey his satisfaction at Brenan’s decision, while the Caruthers brothers looked rather like they hadn’t really understood what he had said.

“You’ll hire us?” James eventually managed to ask him.

“Yes,” Brenan allowed himself to break out into another thin smile, “and I have a task for you already.”

“What?” Julien cut in, thereby strengthening Brenan’s suspicions that the two of them were quite accustomed to forming up one part of a conversation, though there seemed at times to be a certain sibling rivalry as to which of them would get to say what.

“My first mate and one of my sailors, her niece, is located on the other end of the island, preparing to sail down to meet us here.”

“Right.” James was now the one to respond, and he appeared to have at least an inkling as to where Brenan was leading the proceedings.

“Now, the man who hired me to deliver a cargo, supposedly consisting of cheese and wine, to Veertor, is without doubt one of the slimiest, filthiest bastards ever to curse the world through his vile existence, and has threatened not to pay us if the shipment isn’t there within ten days from now,” Brenan’s tendency to add a curse here and there and to talk in a more menacing tone whenever he spoke of people that he disliked was something that the twins would simply have to get used to, “so I want to get a message to my first mate, telling her that time doesn’t permit for us to wait for her here, but that we must meet up at a rendezvous point somewhere along the coast. Your initial task as my subordinates is to plot a course and come up with a suggestion for the location of said rendezvous point.”

“Alright,” Julien looked a lot less confident than his brother, which reinforced Brenan’s impression that the two of them were quite different from one another.
“I will supply you with a map and charts of the island and then be with Davy in his study while you carry out your mission,” Brenan explained further, “you have half an hour.”

“It’d help if I could have access to Davy’s library,” James suggested.

“You won't have access to it when you’re out at sea, son,” Davy protested, and Brenan nodded in agreement with his old friend.

“No, you’d better get used to working with what you’ve got at hand,” Brenan added, while thinking to himself that Davy’s boys would get a nice treat spying on James and Julien while they worked, even if David would probably have preferred some more swordplay.

“I’ll go get a map,” Davy announced before disappearing off towards the house, leaving Brenan to give the two brothers the specifics of his schooner.

“They’re good lads, Brenan,” Davy said a short while later as he and Brenan sat themselves down in his private office, facing each other on opposite sides of his largish desk while James and Julien remained in the garden, working with the scant material that he had supplied them with, “I’m sure they’ll come up with a good course.”

“Yes, let’s hope so,” Brenan muttered.

“Speaking of good lads, my boys doesn’t seem quite so frightened of you any more,” Davy observed as he leaned back in his chair and took another sip of brandy, “You’re not growing soft in your old age, are you?”

“Asks the fat man in the comfy chair,” Brenan returned fire and waited for Davy’s chuckle to come an end before continuing, “I don’t know, I suppose it’s sort of nice to not have them look at me like I’m that figure… I can’t remember his name… the one who the Christians don’t like.”

“What, the Devil?” Davy proved himself to be a proper sailor by spitting twice over his left shoulder at the mere mention of the name, while Brenan tapped his finger against the desk seven times over in rapid succession.

“No, not him, the other one… the one who tried to stop their God from being born on Chanakkah Day or whatever it is they call it.”

“The Grinch?”

“Yeah, him,” Brenan leaned back as well, happy that there wasn’t any superstition connected to that figure.

“Aren’t they the ones who think you’re reborn as somebody else after you die?”

“Nah, I think that’s the Muslims,” Brenan was aware of the fact that neither he nor Davy knew all that much about the old cults, not more than what was considered common knowledge and which wasn’t judged to be slander invented by corrupt members of the Church, “The Christians are the ones who think their god died so we can all live forever, even if our bodies don’t.”

“Sounds like a strange thing to be prepared to die for,” Davy decided before shrugging, remembering things he’d seen and stories he’d heard about people with views that the Church deemed heretical, “Still, better than dying for Xeltan’s gang, or for Veertor.”

“Yeah…” Brenan felt like he should empty the glass in his hand.

“What about Cryn?”

“Well, if you want to die to make a bunch of rich, greedy bastards even richer and greedier then be my guest.”

“I think I’ll pass up that particular opportunity,” Davy chuckled again, “But still, Joanna would be glad if you were a little less uncomfortable around the boys.”

“Right.”

“Children are fairly easy as long as they’re not your own,” Davy assured Brenan, “They’re like tiny drunks in that they find great humour in flatulence and dirty words.”

“I’ll try to eat more beans the next time I come for a visit.”

The two men continued their conversation until James and Julien showed up.