Barnaby's throat was on fire from the constant retching he'd done over the past 3 days, his belly growled from the absence of food, and his head ached from dehydration. Maybe he wasn't cut out for this adventure after all.

"Why are you waking me up, you lummox?!" Barnaby cried from his bunk. "The only peace I've had has been in my dreams. And man, there was this good-looking..."

Lifting the arm from lying over his eyes, he confronted his brainless companion, Trowfaz. From his vantage point, all he could see was Trowfaz's bulky upper half. The twists and turns of blue-inked tattoos were thrown askew in places where they rippled over his abs or biceps all the way up and even on his jutting jaw. His bright green eyes were perpetually squinted and giant pieces of wood had stretched out his ear lobes. Barbaric. He wished his father hadn't insisted the slave come with him.

"Ah, forget it. You wouldn't understand," Barbaby finished. Everyone knew savages like him only mated for reproduction.

Trowfaz rolled his eyes, rolled his eyes mind, before saying, "We've spotted land. Thought you might want to come out and see it, boss."

"Ah, yes. Of course." He hopped down and struggled into his knee-high boots. Becoming erect once again, he felt woozy from being bent over. He needed to keep something in his stomach. He buttoned up his vest and threw on his blue overcoat, its tails flowing down the back of his legs. He yanked his full-brimmed black hat and latched his saber to his belt. "Seriously, you could at least throw on a vest or something Trowfaz. You look hideous. Absolutely ghastly. And if you ever roll your eyes at me again, I'll have you flogged."

Now, that he looked presentable, he could go out to the deck and face the day. What savages awaited in this new land? What gold and jewels could be pillaged? What strange, exotic beauties may need rescuing from being sacrificed to ancient gods?

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