Work Text:
‘What do you think this is?’ Silver said as he raised the lamp a little higher.
‘It’s a cave,’ Flint said simply.
‘I didn’t know Nassau had any.’
‘Why would you?’ Flint said, his tone warm as he looked up at Silver. ‘I didn’t think you even came into the interior before yesterday.’
‘Yes, well I thought I was well informed about the place.’ Silver set the lamp down and limped down a small slope. Flint watched as the crutch very nearly slipped but didn’t. Part of him wanted to prevent it.
‘So, are you going to tell me why we’re out here? Or is this the part where you say I’ve reached the end of my worth?’ Silver said without even looking at Flint, too busy admiring the shadows created by the orange glow of the lamp as he seated himself on a rock.
‘Did I ever tell you the story of the Rosario Raids?’
‘Not you, no. But Madi has enlightened me on the subject. Why?’ Silver finally looked at Flint, cocky anticipation in his eyes that told Flint that he knew the entire story already.
‘Well, there was a pirate on the island. An old drunk called Thorowgood.’ Flint set his effects down on a lip in the rock. ‘He claimed he came from nobility. He claimed he had bought his fortune here to buy a life for himself and to avoid paying the Crown its dues.’
Flint could see the interest in Silver’s eyes as he listened. ‘Well, when the Spanish raided the island, many people holed up in places like this. Caves and tunnels. Thorowgood hid here, too. Amongst the women and children.’
‘And?’ Silver said when the silence fell over the pair. ‘What happened? His treasure is still here, isn’t it?’
‘Thorowgood and the others were followed by the Spanish soldiers. They were cornered and closed in. So the Spanish rolled gunpowder barrels down that slope and then…’ Flint raised his eyebrows as if that said it all.
Silver’s bright and hopeful expression scrunched up with irritation more than horror. ‘So no gold?’
‘He left something more precious.’ Flint grinned, a smile that was reserved for the very few, before disappearing through a crack that Silver had failed to notice in this darkness. If Flint thought Silver could or would follow him in, he had another thing coming.
But after a few minutes, Flint reappeared carrying something.
‘What the fuck is that?’ Silver said with a hint of annoyed amusement.
Flint set the long-concealed treasure on Silver’s lap and flicked the cloth that covered it open. ‘Francis Drake’s own cutlass.’
Silver’s eyes lit up as his fingers wrapped around the hilt of the sword. ‘Fuck. We’re going to be rich men, even without the treasure.’
Flint stepped back and shook his head. ‘It’s not our’s.’
‘Then who the fucks is it? Because I don’t see them here and if we did…’ Silver played with the weight, his new swordsmanship skill still a little rough.
‘It’s yours. I want you to have it.’