"If I am to be bedridden until my body purges this foul poison, then it seems that I have time enough for a story, little brother."

He gave his brother a small weak smile. It was enough that he was alive, that they both were. The rest they could figure out after. Except... "The crew? They are well?" he asked, trying to sit.

He was a captain. Poison or no, there was no excuse for it, for him to have taken this long to ask about the crew, and about the ship. If he were to die, it should be in defense of the men who served under him and the vessel in his care. What right had he to lay here if they were not warned away from the foul island?