…take your shot, slipping into the Captains room and seeing what’s what.

Not allowing yourself time to reconsider, you push away from the wall and head to the door. It opens inward, thankfully, letting you peek out without drawing attention. The corridor is clear, both ways, though you think you smell blood from one of them. Just your imagination, you tell yourself, or more likely just you. Smears of dirty red lie under your fingernails, still drying in the summer air. Hopefully, should you find a place to hide, the smell won’t give you away. Would people like the two pirate Captains be drawn to the smell, like bloodhounds, or would they dismiss it as commonplace? One way to find out, unfortunately.

You move down the corridor and drop to a squat at the landing. The men are still present below, huddled in discussion with one another, and with a pained crouch, you quickly make it to the double doors and find one of them to be a little ajar. You poke it open, slightly, slowly, yet chased by the knowledge that the captain could return at any moment. It opens enough to slip through and you look at what is waiting for you.

No guards. You knew it!

The room is square and lit by lanterns, but your eyes are drawn to the table that dominates its centre. It’s low and wide, scattered with many papers showing charts and ledgers and maps of varying quality, but the space at its sides is thin, brushing against chests and cupboards in some places, and a faint trail of boot prints across its surface tells you how it’s usually navigated.

You work your way around its edge, trying not to disturb anything while listening to the outside world. The men in the mansions centre are the only source of life for now, and they get fainter the further in you get until eventually you are beset by the final door. You open it and step through.

The familiar bed dominates the room, big enough for two and standing against the back wall directly across from you. There are piles of clothes strewn about on the floor as well, seemingly in random heaps, though… at least you think they are clothes. Some piles consist of little more than fine string with silk scraps attached to them. Perhaps the captains is taking up dress making? You doubt it but you don’t have time to investigate. A round table is to your right, set with two mugs, and beyond that is a fireplace followed by an open window. To your left there is an unseen hole you know is there, somewhere, and near it, following the corner of the wall, is a set of several wooden wardrobe doors, and one real one, no doubt leading to the room that stole the window space for the one you listened in by. It seems the obvious place to hide.

You move to investigate it, opening the door and revelling a bathroom, complete with a pot sink, a privy, a dresser, a huge bathtub, and a blood soaked murderer looking right at you. You grip the blade at your leg, through your trousers, frozen in shock, but the moment fades, the dressers wide mirror revealing its cruel trick, the bloody murderer quick to adopt a sheepish expression. You look quite a fright. It’s all lit by a couple of melting candles on the dresser surface, along with a thin beam of moonlight on the floor, coming in from a high and narrow window. The dresser is by the wall, and so is the bathtub, neither providing any hiding spaces behind. The dresser has a lower cupboard, but it’s small and probably full, and with no easy escape in the room, you can’t help but think you can do better.

Returning to the main room, you look about for a good place to hide. Under the bed perhaps? There is space, but perhaps a little too much of it. A wardrobe? There’s an idea. You look to the nearest and find a wide one composed entirely of draws, however it has a space below that you could crawl under. A good place to hide but not to spring from. The one next to it is better; a nice wide double doored wardrobe. It has draws at its base, meaning the doors open at about hip height, but a quick look inside shows a line of clothes, from ball gowns to work wear, dangling from hangers. The longer of them, fluffed with frills and lace, crumples and wrinkles at the base as it forms a heap of taffeta and frippery. Perfect. You give the room one last look and find your eyes resting on the table and its two pewter mugs.

A quick look shows that one contains wine, while the other is empty. No bottle lies in sight.

Your finger taps the vial of poison strapped to your thigh. Should you? You don’t know the owner so you don’t know who will drink it, and only one will die. Even if it is the captain you want (though you wouldn’t cry over the other), that would still leave one very alert captain left to deal with. If you don’t then maybe you will have to deal with both captains at once, but maybe not. Maybe, if you can leave it, you could strike at the ideal moment, attacking only the captain you need and doing so when she’s most ****, that is, if such a time comes, and if you can recognise it when it does.

A creak sounds from the adjoining room. You look to the door. Nothing; just the shift of the house. But still… Time to decide quickly.