Stay with his shipmates

Nils put the woman's cry out of his mind and squeezed onto the bench beside his shipmates.

"Good lad," Dirk said. He scratched his beard. "Don't go lookin' for trouble, there's enough lookin' for you."

"Who's this fine young man?" one of the women asked, smiling broadly. Only one tooth was missing, and the rest looked healthy enough. Her dark hair was bound up in a kerchief to hold it up off her neck.

"This here's Nils," Shanks said. He shifted his skinny length on the other end of the bench. "These girls are Peaches here, Annie there, and Sukey there." Annie was the one who had spoken. She looked oldest, and most at ease with herself. Peaches was a freckle-faced girl with a mass of blonde curls and a generous figure. Sukey was a skinny, mousy looking little thing with a sallow complexion who swung her legs back and forth off the bench.

"N'Polly'l be right along, she's off curtseying to the Queen of Spain," Annie said.

The sailors laughed. Nils didn't know what Annie meant.

"Good lad, Nils, just in time to buy the next round!" Rusty said. The redheaded sailor grinned at him from across the rough-planked table.

Nils let himself be chivvied into buying a round for the table. Fortunately it looked like he'd still have plenty.

The barmaid brought a tray of full tankards and a wooden bowl, which Nils saw was full of mysterious little salty oily things. She winked at Nils, who blushed.

"Who's the little sweetie you brought us, Dirk?" she asked.

Dirk put an arm around Nils's shoulders. "Nell, me salty pickle, meet me new shipmate Nils! Nothin' but the best for him, it's his first port call!"

Shanks and Rusty laughed loudly.

"Then you'll be wanting to send him on up the High Street," Nell said, "for there's none of the best here!"

"That's me Nell," Dirk said with a grin.

"Don't you get me started," Nell said.

"Nell!" a voice called from the kitchen.

"That's me name!" she called. To Nils, she said, "Don't let'em spend all your money in this-here dive." She turned and walked smartly back to the kitchen.

Nils sipped from his tankard of ale and nibbled doubtfully at the mysterious salty things while his shipmates offered advice.

"That'un's an olive," Dirk offered helpfully. "N'that... hum, what's that, Rusty?"

"That's a capsicum," Rusty said. "Only redheads c'n eat those."

"What?" Nils protested. "You're having me on." He popped the shriveled little reddish thing into his mouth and chewed. Fire spread over his tongue and the inside of his mouth. His eyes watered, and his face turned red. He coughed and spat. "My tongue, owwww!"

Rusty and Dirk laughed out loud.

"Cause their hair's already on fire," Rusty said. "Yours looks to be smokin'."

Shanks helpfully lifted Nils's drink toward his lips. "And chew on some more of they olives," he said. "Salt n' oil help the burn."

A deep draft of ale and a few more salty morsels helped, but it was minutes before Nils felt almost himself again. And now he had developed the hiccoughs, to the amusement of his shipmates.

"Hic!" Nils breathed deeply, trying to relax his belly, but to no avail. "Hic!"

Another round of laughter ensued. Even the ladies giggled.

The promised Polly hadn't put in an appearance yet, but Nils hoped she might soon. At least soon after he got rid of the hiccoughs.

Nils considered getting up for a breath of fresh air, or maybe asking his shipmates or Nell to help him with his problem. Or maybe he should just wait it out.