It was late afternoon and the crew had been served their dinner. Victor had worked miracles with his clam chowder recipe according to the hungry, cold men. Snow had started falling around midday, as Mr. Smee had predicted, and was getting heavier by the hour. Edward had added some woollen knee socks to his outfit, but had yet to give in to long trousers.
“Mate,” he asked Victor. “Would there be a problem if I were tae take a bowl down to Haigh?”
Victor rubbed his stubble chin thoughtfully for a few moments. “I see no reason why not. The captain ordered him flogged and thrown in the brig for a week, but I know nothing of withholding his rations.”
“Right,” Edward said. “Then I should fix him a bowl. He’s had naught tae eat all day.”
Victor raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You are good man, Butcher. Not many in your shoes would be so kind to someone who’s been so rude and disrespectful to them.”
“Nae,” Edward agreed. “And I’ll no count him among my friends, but no man should go hungry, brig or not.”
Victor filled a tin soup bowl with a healthy ladle of the warm, creamy chowder and gave Edward a spoon and roll to take down to Haigh. “Ye best watch him and bring back that spoon if nothing else, or that ingrate will fashion it into a knife.”
“Aye, tis true,” Edward nodded, bowl and spoon in one hand, a hot cup of tea in the other, and tucked the roll in his coat pocket. “Thank ye, mate,” he said, starting out of the galley. I’ll no be too long.”
Edward made his way across the slippery deck and headed below to the brig. Cecco was guarding its occupant, and questioned Edward on whether Hook would allow the man food.
“I’ve never heard him say otherwise,” Edward answered. “But I’ll go and ask if ye want.”
Cecco studied Haigh, laying face down on the crude bunk, face turned to wall. “Alright,” he said finally. “But if any trouble comes of this….”
“I’ll tell Captain Hook it were all my idea and ye had naught to do with it. “ Edward interrupted.
Cecco nodded and unlocked the heavy iron door. “Hey, Froggy,” he said loudly and Haigh turned his head to glare at the big, muscular Italian. “Someone’s brung ye some dinner. I’d make the most of it if I were you.” He stepped aside revealing Edward with the steaming bowl of soup and the tea.
Haigh mumbled something in French and Edward snorted. “ That’s nae way tae talk about Victor’s cooking. Dog food indeed.” He was amused at the stunned expression on Joe’s face. “That’s right, I’m nae as stupid as ye think I am.” He walked into the small cage.
“Do ye need help the sit up or can ye do it on your own?”
“Not hungry,” Haigh murmured.
“Och! Bullshit!” Edward replied. “Get your arse up or I’ll have Mr. Cecco help ye.”
At that thought Haigh glared up at Edward but slowly got himself into a sitting position, all the wounds on his back protesting loudly. He poked at the bowl's contents with the spoon. "That’s chowder made from the clams ye brought back.” Edward pointed out. “Eat. It’ll help ye heal quicker.”
“And why do you care?!” Haigh snarled
“ Because I’ve been in your shoes before, whether you believe me or no.” Edward said. “On the Flora, I was flogged over forty times in two years, and almost always for minor infractions or lack of knowledge . I told ye, I was a pressed man. I was a butcher’s apprentice by trade, but they flogged me anyway .”
Haigh finally tried a spoonful of the warm chowder, which obviously suited him, for he wolfed down the entire bowl full and sopped all of the creamy liquid out of the bowl with the roll. He drank the hot tea quickly, as it helped stave off the cold.
Edward leaned against the door watching the man eat. Haigh handed him back the bowl and mug. “And the spoon,” Ed insisted.
Haigh reluctantly handed the crude metal spoon over also, feeling Cecco's eyes upon him.
“Don’t get clever with me, dog,” Cecco huffed. “And here’s the man you despise what’s done fed you out of the goodness of his heart. No one else on this ship would care. Ye can starve and they’d not miss you one second.”
“Now, now,” Edward admonished. “He’s had one lashing today. He does nae need another.” He looked at Haigh. “Better?” he asked”
“Oui,” the man said flatly.
“You’re welcome, “ Edward grinned a toothy smile. “Lock him back up, mate" he said to Cecco. “And thank ye.”
“ It is no problem,” Cecco answered, rattling the door to make sure it was locked.. “The little Scott, he look after us and feed us well. We have your back, mate.”
“Thank ye kindly, “ Edward gave him a half salute and headed back to the galley.
“So, my friend,” Cecco said to Haigh as he was settling back into as comfortable a position as possible. “ Maybe ye should work on a proper apology to our cook's help, eh?” Again he received a hot glare from the injured Haigh. “Then again, maybe you still have much to learn.”
Haigh watched Cecco walk back to his comfortable pile of tarps and sail cloth and settle back down to watch his prisoner as Edward closed the door at the top of the stairs.
