Patriot (A Jack Sigler Continuum Novella)
“A blanket of dark clouds blotted out the night sky and the pale illumination from the quarter moon. The moment he materialized on deck, he was accosted by a slight, redheaded sailor running up to greet him.
“Master Sigler,” the sailor said. His eyes wouldn’t quite look King in the face. “Master Finkle needs to see ye on the fo’castle immediately, sir. If’n ye don’t mind that is.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Don’t rightly know, sir. Just sent me to fetch ye, sir.”
Without another word, King strode toward the bow of the ship, and took the three steps up to the forecastle deck in a single bound. Finkle stood next to a chart table with a sextant in hand. A lantern swayed back and forth above the map resting on the table, making it difficult to see much with any real clarity. When Finkle heard King’s approach, he turned and greeted him with a sober nod.
“It’s a bit late for you to be up charting our course, isn’t it?” King said to the man. It was approaching the third watch of the night.
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