The Eye of Neptune by Jon Mayhew Page A

there,’ she said, not meeting his eye. ‘We could boil some. It’d make a welcome change from salt beef.’
    Dakkar gave a sigh and wandered off to the treeline.
    The growing gloom of twilight deepened the shadows between the tree trunks. Dakkar shivered. Was there a movement in the darkness? A twig snapped and leaves rustled. Dakkar held his breath and crept forward. The undergrowth suddenly erupted, making him cry out as a flurry of brightly coloured birds squawked and flapped their way into the branches above. Dakkar blew out a sigh and laughed.
    The breadfruit hung from the highest branches, requiring Dakkar to clamber up the trees. He was panting by the time he came back with a couple of decent-sized specimens.
    A fire crackled on the beach and Georgia had set up a tripod and pan over it. Dakkar thought again of how ill prepared he’d been on the Makara and blushed at her efficiency.
    ‘They look good,’ she said, taking the breadfruit from him. ‘I heard you cry out. Was everything all right?’
    Dakkar gave a cough and couldn’t help smirking. ‘Just some birds,’ he said. ‘They almost flew into my face!’
    Georgia gave a laugh and cut into the breadfruit with a long-bladed knife. Dakkar squatted and helped plop the chunks into the boiling water.
    ‘I’m sorry I snapped at you before,’ he muttered as they prepared the breadfruit.
    ‘That’s all right,’ Georgia replied, giving a tight smile. ‘Fighting sharks and gigantic squid doesn’t put anyone in the best of humours.’
    Dakkar laughed and relaxed a little. The breadfruit bubbled away and Dakkar realised just how hungry he was. The salt beef and weevily biscuits he’d been chewing on for the past few weeks had kept him from starving but the smell of something warm and fresh cooking made his mouth water.
    Soon they were wolfing down hot chunks of the starchy fruit. Dakkar burned his mouth a couple of times but he didn’t care. It wasn’t long before the pan was emptied and the two of them were dozing by the fire with full bellies.
    Dakkar shifted on to his elbow and stared at Georgia through the flames.
    ‘So where did you learn so much about the sea and sailing?’ he asked.
    ‘My pa was a sailor,’ Georgia said, blushing in the firelight. ‘He doted on me. Taught me everything he knew.’
    ‘You said “was”. Did he retire?’ Dakkar said.
    ‘He died,’ Georgia said, staring into the flames, ‘fighting His Majesty’s Navy.’
    ‘Oh,’ Dakkar said, suddenly feeling awkward. ‘I’m sorry.’
    ‘Anyway!’ Georgia said, a false brightness in her voice. ‘What’s it like being a prince?’
    ‘I don’t know really,’ Dakkar said, frowning. ‘That all seems like another time, another life.’
    ‘You’ve been away from home for a long time?’ Georgia asked.
    ‘I’ve been in England for at least four years. I ran away from a few schools and then Oginski took me on and I’ve kind of forgotten what it’s like to be a prince.’
    ‘You ran away from school?’ Georgia said, wide-eyed.
    ‘Well, it’s hardly an adventure compared to this,’ Dakkar said.
    ‘No,’ Georgia said, still agog at Dakkar’s comment. ‘I mean, what a waste! A good education is a real gift. I’d give my right arm to have proper school learning.’
    ‘Believe me,’ Dakkar replied. ‘English schools are neither proper nor are they a gift. They’re brutal places full of bullying masters and hideous children.’
    ‘Well,’ Georgia said, ‘I’ve no love for the English at the moment.’
    ‘Now that’s one thing we have in common,’ Dakkar said.
    ‘Do you think we’ll find Uncle Robert and Oginski?’ she asked quietly, changing the subject.
    There’s no doubt in my mind,’ Dakkar said, his voice sounding brittle. ‘We’ve just got to find Lafitte first.’
    ‘And what if he won’t help us?’ Georgia whispered.
    Somewhere in the distance a bird screamed at the night, and things scurried and scuffled in the woodland higher up