George and the Fever

Surrounded by treasure and the ghosts of the men who he killed for it.
George lay in bed, sweating and pale from a high fever.
“The good pirates don’t die in their beds,” said George’s old captain.
George reached for a pitcher on the nightstand, but his fingers slipped on the handle.
“You weren’t so clumsy when you killed me.”
The pitcher fell to the floor.
George hit the floor with a grunt and a long, painful moan.
Servants came in to put George back to bed.
Towels to mop up George’s sweat.
And a fresh pitcher on the nightstand.