8: The Approaching Storm

We kept on moving. This time back topside. Along the way I asked, “How long do you think we have until that sailor gets out?”
“Well, He’s never getting out himself. I tied Him tighter than I do a boar. Also, I’d bet my favorite knife that he wasn’t supposed to be there. Nobody is expecting him anywhere until next shift change and that isn’t for another five hours. Even after that they wont know where to look for him. That room wont even be used again until we capture another person. Which the odds say we have another week before that happens again.”
“There’s a room specifically for captured peoples stuff?”
“Yeah, it’s the booty room.” I laughed. “What’s so funny? That’s what it’s called.”

When we came out on deck we ran into Steve. We all gave the gentleman’s nod to say hello and Steve pointed out some clouds along the horizon, “Ye’ might want to get back inside, this one looks bumpy.” It was a full on wall of clouds completely across the horizon. You could see lightning every second or so.
I looked up directly above us and it was as blue as a bird. That’s when I noticed a man climbing the radio tower, “Uh, shouldn’t he get down?”
Chef and Steve looked up to where I was pointing. “Oh,” said Steve, “that’s just the Commodore. He goes up there during storms. He says it’s the only time he can feel anything.”
“Personally,” Chef chimed in, “I think he’s looking to die. The man’s near immortal”
We all stared at him as he reached the top and took his shirt off. I could see his torso gleaming in the last of the sunshine that any of us would see for some time.
Just as the clouds were covering us he looked down at me. I don’t mean to say it seemed as if he looked down at me, because it would normally be difficult to know from an ant’s size distance. I mean to say I could feel his gaze upon my soul and it made my heart ache for him. We looked at each other for a time then he held his arms up toward the sky and let out an in-audible yell.
We headed through another door down ship. We told Steve where we were going and he decided to come with us to play watchman. “So what’s his deal?” I was referring to the Commodore.
The Chef held a door open for me, “What do you mean?”
“Well, why is he covered in metal?”
“I heard it was a curse.”
Steve added, “It was Tuesday what did it.”
“What? What’s Tuesday?” I asked, “Chef was talking about that earlier and I have no idea what it meant.”
Chef frowned at me, Steve replied, “Tuesday is our king.” He paused, “More like dictator really. He wears this mask, yeah? And nobody has actually ever seen him. There are numerous theories surrounding him… and the Commodore. Ye see they’re archenemies.
“Tuesday had no enemies until the Commodore came along some five years ago. No one even knew who he was before his fight with Tuesday.
“What?”
“Well, he wont tell anyone, or can’t I suppose. It’s assumed that he had almost killed Tuesday in a hand to hand fight in the castle.”
“Assumed?”
“Well yeah, y’see the day after the Commodore shows up there are posters everywheres for his arrest, a pretty penny too. It’s said in Tuesday’s moments before almost dying he cursed him to stone, only he was too weak to cast it properly and he just makes them both covered in it. Completely freaked out the Commodore runs out and joined the Mighty Men in order to one day get revenge, and Tuesday wears a mask to cover it up.”
“I don’t believe that for one second.” For a second I thought I had said this because it’s what I was thinking, but it was Chef.
“What’ye mean?”
“Well, I believe that they both come from some far off clan of metal men and Tuesday is an escaped convict who come and pretended to be one of us.”
Steve just made a grunt.
“See here, I was there when he first came ten years ago, five years before the Commodore. He was completely covered from head to toe, long coat, hood, gloves and mask, just like today, and he killed the last True King in about three minutes. Most of which he was talking.”
“You were there?”
“Yeah.”
“And the King just let him talk then kill ‘im?”
“Yeah.”
They looked at each other for a second. Steve not believing a word, “Okay, whatever, so who is the commodore then?”
“Well, like I said, he’s from this clan of metal men and he’s some sort of bounty hunter to come and get Tuesday… the escaped convict.”
“Ah,” said Steve, “That actually makes more sense.”
“Thank you.”
Steve rolled his eyes.
We kept walking and I began to recognize the hallway. “Hey, wait guys! We aren’t going to the Captain’s quarters, we’re going to the mirror.”
“Yes, the mirror in the secret cargo room hidden behind the bookcase in the captains office.”
“Oh. But wouldn’t the Captain be there?”
“No,” said Steve, “I just saw him in the nav. room before running into you guys. He usually stays there to see a storm through.”
We approached the door and Chef opened it. We all piled in.

We stood, stunned and staring at the Commodore’s assistant. “Oh yeah,” Was all that Steve had to say. Chef pulled his cleaver, I instinctively followed suit with my blade.