The Fumble

“Patch, I want you to know before we embark on this venture that you are the bravest stallion I know. Yes, Eye Lash may have thrown himself into more dangerous situations, but that is because he completely lacks fear. You, though you possess supernatural powers beyond those given to normal ponies, have reasonable amounts of fear. That you have fought those base urges and overcome them proves that you deserve recognition for your courageous spirit. Whatever else may happen to us tonight, whether we live or die, I feel you should know this.”

Patch glared sideways at Spyglass. “Captain, I’m helping you balance our accounts and divide up the treasure to see who gets paid what from the last two prizes we captured. There’s no need for melodrama.”

Spyglass returned to the pile of scratch paper in front of him, his cheeks flushing red. “Well, you’re still being brave. And I apologize profusely. Normally I’d calculate all of this myself, but recently there have been certain unexpected expenses added to our budgets and, well…”

“Is this about the ‘socks for everypony’ thing?” Patch asked as he shuffled through a few sheets of paper inventorying the Iris’ food stores. “I’m fairly certain if you give it a week they’ll have forgotten all about that and be asking for something else.”

“Actually, it’s not that.” Spyglass pointed his hoof at another sheet of papers. “Those are our ammunition expenditure records.”

Patch leaned over, clumsily moving the sheets aside. “Wow. These go back quite a few years.”

“I like to keep thorough accounts.” Spyglass’s chest swelled with pride.

After a few minutes of poring through the papers, Patch set them down in surprise. “He’s costing us that much?”

“It’s not Eye specifically,” Spyglass admitted. “We’re too damn lucky for our own good at the moment. Two prizes this quickly is fairly dramatic. Normally we’d have had maybe one ship in two months, and we probably wouldn’t capture that one so much as frighten it off. Now I’m working with effectively two separate holds to stock and maintain, two ammunition stores to keep up, whatever Vex’s ship will need to run - thank the stars it appears to be low-maintenance - and Eye keeps firing bullets into anything we come across. We have to start selling something soon, or we’re not going to have the money to last out the year.”

Patch grunted. “We could always sell the Tomcat.”

“That ship is the one thing keeping me from hearing what Eye Lash gets up to at all hours. I will sell it only when we have literally no other choice.”

“What about the Vexation?”

“If you think you can pry it out of its captain’s hooves, go ahead. Not only will you probably end up dead, but if you succeeded you’d be breaking the heart of an orphaned nine-year-old,” Spyglass pointed out as he continued to sort papers.

“Fair.” Patch grimaced, looking at the accounts. “It seems like we’re still in the black with this latest haul. We can distribute most of the bits among the crew immediately and that’ll do for pay, and the rest we’ll have to find some way to turn into cash immediately.”

“Which is always a pain. It means we can’t shop around for which merchants will give us the best rate. Likely means anything that isn’t already cash money is going to be devalued some, which just curls my wingtips.” Spyglass shook his head. “Do you see why this is my least favorite job?”

“For what it’s worth, you’re doing it quite well,” Patch offered.

“We both know that’s you trying to comfort me, Mr. Patch, but I appreciate the support.” Spyglass rubbed a polishing cloth against his telescopic eye. “Let’s see here. About a fortnight from now, we’ll need to take on provisions and water. Water we can get from the clouds in a pinch, but it’s always better to take it from the ground. Less risk of contamination from the Weird Winds we sometimes get up here.”

Patch tilted his head to the side. “Captain, I’m a pegasus and I’ve been with your crew for a little while now, we both know this. Why would you feel the need to repeat it to me?”

“Because I’m thinking out loud and redundant information is better than none!” Spyglass snapped, before pointing to a map spread across his captain’s desk. “Mr. Patch, just help me figure out a way we can make port before a fortnight to sell some of this off?”

Patch leaned over the map, noting the red tack used to mark their small fleet’s position. With a shrug, he pointed to a location. “Why not here?”

Spyglass leaned over. His face paled. “No. That is a bad idea. We should not go to Trottingham.”

“And what’s wrong with Trottingham?”

“Your vampire great-aunt never took you there?”

“Trottingham is a known sanctuary of marewolves. Full vampires typically avoid it,” Patch explained. “I’ll probably be fine as long as I tell any we happen to meet that I’m only one by marriage, but-”

“I will stop you right there and ask you what on earth a marewolf is, why that is a bad thing for vampires, and how on Equus you are so comfortable with any of this, Mr. Patch.”

Patch shrugged his wings. “I can’t really answer the last one, captain, and the first two were just things my Great-Aunt Star Chaser told me. I think she was drunk at the time, so the veracity might be questionable.”

“Trust me then, I will tell you the real reason we want to avoid Trottingham,” Spyglass growled. “Are you familiar with the story of its construction? Some bloody stupid architect or other decided the best way to construct a city built over a river was to let the sewage flow into the river. Every time the tide comes in, there are certain streets which are flooded with refuse. I do not wish to conduct business in a midden.”

“Ew.” Patch grimaced. “And ponies live there?”

“The rent’s cheap. Also it’s a good place to go if you want to associate with the criminal underworld.” Suddenly, something clicked. “...Actually, I may have just talked myself into arriving. He’s probably there this time of year.”

“Is this mysterious ‘he’ an old flame of yours?” Patch asked, confused. “I don’t want to pry but given your track record and the thing with Urd-”

“We do not have a thing! We have at most a thing that may… Damn you and your capacity to embarrass me, Mr. Patch!” Spyglass groaned. “And no, the individual I’m referring to is not an old flame. I know Mr. Lash has brought questions about this into all of our lives, but I can assure you I have not yet seen a stallion who I would be interested in having a ‘thing’ with.”

“So you admit to there being a thing with Urd.”

Patch found himself sprawling backwards snout over heels. Spyglass stood, dusting off his wings. “My apologies, Mr. Patch. They get a bit stiff if I don’t flex them every so often, and I had completely forgotten you were sitting beside me.”

“I admittedly deserved that one,” Patch muttered before getting back to his hooves. “So Trottingham, then?”

“Trottingham. As much as I loathe to return there. I don’t think I could wash the smell out of my mane for weeks after the last time.” Spyglass sighed. “I suppose some of the crew will be happy. Though I do expect this means we’ll be unable to make sail as quickly as I might have hoped. Landing Oracle anywhere near where opium is sold is likely to result in a period of him convalescing.”

“It’s for the best, Captain. Besides, it’s hard to end slavery without food.”

“Indeed.” Spyglass rose, adding a few last black marks to the ledger. “Do me a favor and inform Mr. Telescope that we will be making sail for Trottingham with all available haste, rather than returning to the Zebrican coasts as originally planned.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

“I’ve told you not to say that. Nopony says that.”

“Then everypony doesn’t know what they’re missing. It’s fun.” Patch grinned at his captain, his scar tissue only adding a slightly creepy edge to the expression. He paused on his way out. “Oh, and Captain?”

“Yes, Mr. Patch?”

“Traditionally in this kind of business, I’ve heard that the Captain gets a double share of all the captured treasures from a new vessel. Correct?”

“That is the traditional arrangement, yes,” Spyglass admitted.

“I notice on the ledger that yours are suspiciously absent. In fact, I can’t find notation for your share at all. Nothing but a monthly stipend for living expenses, which you give to all of us anyway.”

“Hmm. I must have forgotten to count those. Oh well, I’m sure they were put to good use.”

“In fact, I noticed that for a few crew members, their shares might be slightly larger than anticipated. Almost as if two separate ponies had just thrown their earnings back into the pot.”

“You may go, Mr. Patch.” Spyglass had already turned back to his work.

“Aye, Aye, Captain. And if you complain, I’ll make sure everyone knows they work for the nicest sky pirate in Equestria.”

“I will end you.”

“You don’t have a big enough stake!” Patch called over his shoulder playfully as he exited Spyglass’s cabin and made his way to the Iris’ deck.

Spyglass sorted through his accounts, finally gathering them up into a semi-tidy pile and shutting them away in a lockbox. He hummed the first snatch of a shanty he remembered hearing in port once to himself as he turned to his atlas, plotting the course they would take to reach Trottingham later.