Macbeth-on-a-ship
an excerpt

PROLOGUE
On board the man-o’-war Nightfall, about dinnertime, three young men, or rather boys were sitting between two guns, in a circle. Their scabbed and tanned knees were touching. It was cold, but it was always either too cold, or too hot here, so they payed it no mind. The ship had left its port barely a week ago, and already it had spotted a prize, a little brig.
All three boys were dark haired, and looked so much like each other that many people assumed they were brothers. In reality, they had never met before coming aboard the ship, and one was Irish, one Welsh, and one from London.
One of them, the eldest, leaned forward and whispered to the other two, “So, when can we do this again?”
The second snorted. “After the battle, idiot. You don’t think their gonna let us do this while the ship’s bein’ blown apart?” At the eldest pinched the second one, but grudgingly agreed.
The youngest spoke up. He didn’t say a lot, but when he did, his friends listened. “I think it’ll be all over around sunset, d’you reckon?” The other two nodded, and the second added, “Bit before, maybe.”
“Where?” the eldest asked, frowning. “I mean, they might think somethin’s up if we always meet here.”
“On deck,” the second said confidently. When the others stared at him, he said, “Well, it won’t be a normal meeting, exactly, will it?”
The youngest caught on first. “Oh! Are we going to meet –”
“Shhh!” his comrades hissed, “Yes.”
A call came from where the other sailors were eating.
“Comin’, Mr. Gray!” the eldest shouted. His master, the carpenter, was named Gray.
The second glanced over his shoulder. “We better get goin’ too.”
“Just a sec,” said the third. He stood up, and looked out one of the slits that the guns pointed out of. It was windy, and it came in, and blew his hair back. “Ya know,” he said softly, “When I was younger, I was scared o’ the wind.”
The other boys laughed. “Why?” the first asked.
The youngest didn’t laugh. “Cause I was scared it’d come and take me away.” Now he gave a wry chuckle. “But here still days are bad.”
“Fair is foul and foul is fair, eh?” the second chuckled.
The boy smirked. “Yep.”