"Y'er crazy, y'know that?"

Gabriel wiped his hair with a woollen cloth as he sat chugging an ale by a dimly lit campfire with his old friend. Lines of infantrymen performed their spear drills nearby; the droning of summer dragonflies masking the near silent routine.

"You would never believe it even if I were to tell you."

"Try me." The captain's seaman accent slowly wore off as he conversed with the educated man seated before him.

"A missionary, he stood across us on the cliff to the opposite side," he muttered convincingly.

"Gáv.. you ain't implying.."

Gabriel nodded, "It is exactly as you think, brother."

"Tch," the captain sucked his teeth, "Condemned himself to the fires of Hell, is what he's done"

"What of this island is not Hell already?"

The captain sighed, "This island.. it's no wonder they wish to leave 'er no matter the cost."

Gabriel took a long sip of his ale.

"The Bane of 'Henna is what we men of the sea like to call 'er, nobody in their right mind would choose to come here.. the discovery of the Eastern Archipelagos was nothing but a mistake; spices rise abundant, but what of those damned souls that are sent here to count their days until death?"

He paused abruptly, realizing he was ranting loosely and unfiltered. Though, noticing again who it was that sat across from him, he continued, "The search for what lay East of the Great Divide should have been just that.. a search."

"How, then, would we have the greatest voyage a man could ever wish for, and live to tell the tale?" Gabriel smiled wryly.

After a brief moment of silence, the captain began laughing heartily, banging his mug of ale on the log upon which he sat.

"We have the King to thank fer that," he said as he continued to bellow with laughter, "And we'd have the King to thank if either one uf us ever hits the bucket."

"Do not make light of the King's decisions, Mattheus," Gabriel retorted harshly.

"Aye aye, I forget sometimes how deep yer loyalty to the Crown goes."

"As should yours," Gabriel said as he took his final sip.

"Aye, ye wouldn't mind then if I told ye about the next item on yer itinerary, duly signed by ye blessed King."

Gabriel slammed his palm to his face, knowing exactly what the captain was referring to.

"I'd rather visit Hell than meet the Archbishop, especially in this condition."

"Oh not to worry, dry clothes abound in the Coração," Mattheus replied as he stood up grinning.

"You do know I despise you dearly, don't you Mattheus?"

The captain broke out into another hearty laugh, slapped Gabriel's back and passed him a cigarette.

"This should aid yer condition, brother."

Gabriel sighed and put the cigarette into his mouth, the captain followed suit; the pair sucked deep and exhaled, their plumes of smoke swirling up high into the clouds of the sunless afternoon.