Chapter 8: A Day at Sea

Thane Drogos

“Had enough?” I asked, an arm around Desmond’s throat. My first mate bared down, knocking me off and rolling me onto the deck. He bounced back to his feet, bringing one hand to wipe the blood from his nose.

He laughed. “You know me. I don’t know when to quit.”

I sprang up to my feet, blocking one of his punches easily. The crewmen gathered around the ring. Tossed coins for their bets. The men preferred hand-to-hand combat as it made a great pastime during long voyages.

Occasionally, the blunted cutlasses came out to play.

The sun beamed down on Desmond and I as we tousled, throwing blows at one another. We were only clad in our pants, shirts discarded.

Much more difficult to tear pants and I wasn’t in the mood to sew up the cotton of my shirt. Like good friends, we never pulled punches. Even the time I knocked a tooth out of his mouth for considering leaving his wife.