The former pirate beckoned to the bartender with his oaken cane. “Trevor, be a prince and pour young Mari a tot of grog. He looks like he could use a double!”

The bartender gave his boss the same curt nod he’d shown earlier and passed Marius a small but brimming horn of the sweet, spicy, watered down liquor. The youth tipped his head back and drank the beverage in three long gulps.

“Ahhh,” he gasped as the grainy cinnamon and coarse rum stung his throat. “Thanks, Al.”

Freebootin’ Al smiled until his eyes twinkled and his gold teeth shone. He slid a scarred hand down past the handle of his cane, which was carved to look like a figurehead in the form of a curvaceous woman. In a practiced motion he must have performed a million times, the buccaneer hooked his peg leg with the cane and hefted it up on a footstool as he sat in a padded chair.

“Yer’ always welcome here, boy. Now load yer’ troubles up and shoot ‘em out that canon yeh’ call a mouth!” The tavern’s proprietor twisted around and pulled a pitcher of grog off a low shelf, foregoing the need for a tankard.

Marius sighed again, suddenly wishing he had something left to drink. Rather than meet his mentor’s gaze he looked at the faded sifan finery the former pirate still favored. As he had done many times in the past, he poured out his problems. The one-time corsair listened, nodding sagely from time to time.

“... what do you think I should do?” Marius finished, feeling like he’d spilled his guts.

“Listen and listen well me laddo’,” Al was busy rolling a cigarette in his palm. He popped it between his lips and produced an Alerian fire-starter to spark it alight. “If there be one thing every young man needs, it do be adventure.”

“Adventure?”

“Aye,” the wizened man tapped his cane on the top of the bar, “now then, don’t think I gave yeh’ that grog for free. It’s time to sing for yer’ sangria, boyo!” He shouted the last sentence, and a small cheer went up from some of the regular patrons.

Marius sighed, but their deal had been established long ago. He drank for free so long as he performed the sea shanties Al had taught him. He stepped to the small stage in the corner of the room and picked up a lute from its stand, tuning it with deft fingers and humming the tones to warm his voice.