Devon Monk - Tin Swift

That was all she saw before the door shut firmly behind the hunchbacked old man.

“This is one of my passengers, Jack,” Captain Hink said. “And she’s in need of a few medicines to tend the woman who’s injured in our company.”

“Medicines? Yes, yes.” He shuffled past them both toward one wall covered in wooden shelves and drawers and filled with bottles, jars, boxes, and parcels. The sweet, dusty scent of dried herbs was stronger here, as was the smell of beeswax and oils.

“Tell me what ails the girl,” he said, stopping short in front of the first of the shelves, “and I’ll tell you what I have to soothe it.”

“I just have a short list to fill,” Mae said.

Jack craned his head up so he could see out from under his bushy eyebrows. “Then get on with telling me the list.”

“I’ll need yarrow and clean cotton for bandages. And I’ll need something for the pain that won’t put her to sleep.”

“I’ve got the first two.” Jack tottered along the line of shelves and reached down for a packet of clean cotton cloth. “Bandages.” He set them on the top of a hutch filled with small perfume bottles.

“Yarrow, yarrow…that’s right over here. Haven’t had a bundle for a while.” He pulled a thin metal stick out of his pocket, no bigger around than a cigar. Then he tugged it straight. The brass stick stretched out three feet long. He pointed the clamp on the end toward a jar on one of the higher shelves. He hooked the jar down and set it next to the bandages.

“As for keeping someone awake and out of pain, I’m not sure there’s much for that. You can have your pick of whiskey, laudanum, or Bateman’s Drops.” He opened a small door on his apothecary hutch.

“No coca leaves?” Captain Hink asked.

Old Jack shook his head. “Bartered them off for a case of champagne. Have a bottle of Peruvian coca tonic left.” He withdrew a slim green bottle.

“Knew a glim runner who used it once,” Hink said to Mae. “He didn’t have complaints.”

Mae held out her hand and Old Jack passed her the bottle. She studied the label. “There’s three dosages worth here.” She considered the long road ahead and that they had lost nearly all their supplies in Vicinity. “Better this and two bottles of laudanum, if you have them.”

“Said I did, didn’t I?” Jack pulled down two bottles. “They ain’t cheap. We’re coming into winter and I won’t have new supplies until the winds calm in spring.”

“You just had an entire ship of supplies dock tonight,” Hink said. “You can’t tell me Beaumont didn’t have a stash of patent medicines on board.”

“I can and I will,” Old Jack said. “You can pay me for what I’m selling, or you can find some other trading post to do your business.”

Hink exhaled in the sort of way that made it seem like he was counting down from ten to one. “You know I landed on nothing but fumes. If you’re expecting me to pony up a fortune, you’re hitting the wrong rock.”

Old Jack licked his lips, his sharp eyes narrowing for the haggle. “You said you’d pay in glim or pay in gold. I want both.”

“I think you may be misinterpreting the word ‘or,’ Jack.”

“And you’re misinterpreting my ability to give a damn, Hink.”

“No. I never thought you cared about anything but your own skin. That and robbing folks like me blind. I can give you glim in the morning if the Swift flies, or gold today. But I ain’t about to give you both.”

Jack sucked on his bottom teeth, then slid a glance at Mae.

Mae gave him an even stare, as if the act of negotiation bored her, instead of showing how frustrated she was. They needed this medicine. Rose needed it. But they had to rely on Captain Hink’s ability to haggle right now.

He was going out of his way to see that Rose had what she needed. Mae didn’t know how she would repay him. Didn’t know if Mr. Hunt had already negotiated some kind of payment.

And she was not about to mess it up by looking desperate.

The men were shaking hands. Mae realized, with a start, that she had been too lost in thought to notice that the negotiation was drawing to a close.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Captain Hink said, the bundles and bottles in his hands, “we’ll take our leave.”

Old Jack gave Mae one last hard stare, as if expecting her to say something or do something.

“Good evening,” she said.

“See them out,” he yelled to the servant waiting a respectable distance behind them.

The servant headed toward the door, and Hink reshuffled the packages in his hands and started walking. Old Jack headed straightwise to his office.

“I’ll expect the money on my doorstep in the morning,” Old Jack said as he lifted the latch on the carved door. “Or that ship of yours becomes my goods.”

“Didn’t put her up as collateral,” Captain Hink said. “Don’t make me straighten your facts with my fists, Jack.”

“Gold or the ship, either fills your debt.”

“You touch the Swift and it will be the last thing you fondle,” Hink said. “I’m not blowing steam. You send anyone for my ship and I’ll kill him dead.”

Captain Hink wasn’t looking at Jack as he strode across the room, but Mae glanced back at the old man.

His office door was half open, his hand still on the latch. Through the windows on the other side of his office the odd green-yellow light flooded the room, and poured out in a wedge around his feet.

“Do not threaten the bear in its den, Captain Hink Cage,” Old Jack said. “The bear always wins.” Then he stepped into his office and slammed the door behind him.

Hink’s jaw was set so hard, the muscle at his temple bulged. He stopped in front of the metal door. For a moment, Mae thought he might just turn on his heel and take up a fight with Old Jack. But instead he blew out a breath and waved at the door.

“Go ahead,” Hink said to the servant. “Open it up. Seems there’s a bear loose in these parts.”

The servant worked the locks and chains and bolts, then pulled the door inward smooth and easy as if it didn’t weigh a thing.

Mae and the captain walked out into the hall.

“I hope you didn’t promise him too much, Captain.”

“That penny-squeezing thief would pick my pocket by way of my tailpipe, if you’ll pardon my language. I didn’t give him a nickel more than those medicines were worth.”

“But your ship…”

“My ship isn’t a part of my debt.” They walked a short way. “He was just blustering because I didn’t have any glim to throw at his feet, the greedy pig.”

“Your kindness hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

“Oh?”

“I am grateful for your assistance,” she said, “though I must admit I don’t know why you’ve gone out of your way for us.”

“Haven’t gone that far,” he said quietly. “Was headed over Vicinity when you fell into trouble. Picking you up wasn’t any bother. I’d have put you down somewhere of your choosing before now, but your man—”

“He’s not my man.”

Hink waggled his eyebrows. “—convinced me that our interests align.” He walked a little farther until his bootheels were no longer thudding on wood, but once again fell soft and muted against the dirt and stone hall.

“What interests, Captain Hink?” Mae asked softly so as not to have her own words echo back at her.

“Your man says he can find the Holder. That’s something I’m very much interested in. So do you know if he might be telling me true?”

Mae thought it over. She had a foggy recollection of Cedar telling her he had spoken to the captain about the Holder. And that they’d made a deal.

“I have only known Mr. Hunt to be an honest man. If he gave you his word, his word is good.”