Siren of the Sea is now up for sale at the Kindle Store on Amazon. They said it could take up to 72 hours to link it to the same page as the Hard Copy version of my story but for now it is available if you just go looking in the Kindle Store...there is will be! So if you do not want to wait for me to update or you do not want to wait for the book version to be mailed out, you can just go download it on your Kindle.

Once more I thank you all for your reviews! Each one is a treasure and I appreciate them very, very much!

As before, I send out this warning "Danger…Do NOT try any of these medical procedures at home" As if anyone of you would... but I just thought it needed saying.

Hope you all enjoy chapter three!

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Chapter 3

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Christine looked at the faces of the men around her and she knew something was terribly wrong. When the captain had walked by her, she could see that his eyes had grown cold and resolute with concern for Miller. He didn't look at anyone as he led them to his cabin, his gaze fixed ahead as if he were steeling himself for some terrible task that lay ahead…but what was it? The men had covered the cook's legs with a blanket as they brought him above deck so Christine could not see what had caused the cries of pain from below. Had he fallen and somehow been injured? He had seemed fine just the day before. Once they had taken Miller inside the rest of the group began to break off silently, each one in almost a trance like state out of concern for their shipmate. Amir came walking towards the cabin, his arms full of items and his face white as a sheet. When Christine's eyes fell upon the saw he carried, it all became very clear to her.

"You have to cut off his leg?" she gasped, stopping the man in his tracks.

"Can't be helped. He has the Red Thread and it is spreading fast," he told her.

"There has to be another way! Don't you have a doctor on board, someone who can tend to his wound?" Christine asked, her eyes wide with shock.

"Jock was the closest thing we had to a doctor, but he got killed in the battle with the Damnation. There is no other way, the leg has to come off or he will die!" Amir swallowed the lump in his throat and walked past, heading into the cabin.

Christine felt sick to her stomach. The thought of what they intended to do in there with such crude instruments and no anesthesia was almost too dreadful to comprehend. She had heard of Red Thread before and knew it was a name that some used to describe blood poisoning. Her father had treated the ailment many times, sometimes in the manner they were now going to attempt, but she had also seen him use other methods to save the patient. Her mind was spinning as she weighed what to do next. She was not a doctor, not even close. Though she had been around medicine all her life, that certainly didn't qualify her to be giving surgical advice now. She also reminded herself of the huge risk she would be taking by getting involved. Her plan was to lay low, not bring attention to herself and escape. Yet, if there was even a chance she could help save a man from losing his leg, she knew she had to try, or she would never be able to live with the guilt. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she ran to the cabin door and burst through it.

"Wait!" she cried, skidding to a halt as all the men in the room turned to look at her.

"Get out of here boy, you are not going to want to see this!" Erik warned, his voice harsh and full of his concern over his injured man.

"I know how to treat Miller's wound," she blurted out. Now she really had their attention.

"What do you know about Red Thread?" Erik asked, skeptical but willing to grasp at any straws offered.

"My father is a doctor, and I once helped him with a case like this when no one else was available." Christine walked over to where Miller was lying on the Captain's desk, his head propped up by a rolled up blanket and his exposed leg now strapped to a flat wooden board. Christine shuddered to think that in only minutes they would have been sawing into his flesh and bone. Pointing at the red lines in his leg she continued. "The medical term is blood poisoning. The blade that cut him must have been infected causing the wound to turn septic. The red streaks are the infection spreading through his veins which all lead to his heart. It needs to be stopped before it gets any further, but you don't have to cut off his leg."

"There is no other way!" Amir yelled, his usual friendly demeanor now overtaken by his fear and frustration. "Now get out of here and let us work."

Erik could see that Amir's tone had really startled the boy and he was just seconds away from bolting from the room. He held up his hand towards Amir, signaling him to be patient and then he walked over to Chris. Erik put his hands on the kid's shoulders to steady him as he looked him in the eyes.

"Tell us what you know, boy," he instructed.

Christine's fear suddenly lessened as he spoke, his voice having a strange calming affect when he was not shouting or growling orders. As she looked into his amber eyes she could see apprehension, but also a fire of conviction and determination. She found herself oblivious of everyone else in the room except the man now in front of her. His voice held some unexplained power over Christine and it helped her find the strength to continue.

"The wound will need to be reopened to allow the poison to drain out as much as possible. Then poultices will need to be applied round the clock to draw out what is left. We should also give him something to help him fight the infection from the inside as well, but I don't know what you have on board that we could use for that," she told him, practically all in one breath.

"We will find you whatever you need," Erik assured, nodding in gratitude as he turned back to speak to Miller. "Miller…listen to me. Chris says he knows a way that might fix you up. It does not sound pleasant but there is a chance it will let you keep your leg. Do you want to try boy's way?"

Miller stared at Chris and then back again to Erik.

"What…what would you do?" he stammered, his question showing his overwhelming confidence in his captain.

Erik looked over at the boy, who stood there almost frozen in place. He was not sure exactly why, but he felt he could trust what he was telling them, and if it gave Miller even the slightest chance of keeping his limb, he knew it was worth trying. Turning back to the cook's pleading eyes he gave him his answer.

"I trust what he says. It sounds like good advice and if I were lying there in your place, I would do it. It is your leg, Miller, tell us what you want."

"I want to keep it!" the man said without hesitation. "Do what the kid says, but if any cutting needs to be done on me, I would be indebted if you were the one holding the knife, captain." He then reached out and grabbed Erik's arm, pulling him closer so he could not be heard by the others. "Just…make everyone else leave first; I don't want the men seeing me like this. Just you, Amir and the boy…alright?"

Erik gave an understanding nod and signaled for everyone else to leave the room. He then turned to Chris.

"What do we do first?"

"I would start by giving him that rum," she suggested, pointing at the bottles on the desk beside him. It was a crude form of painkiller, but it would have to do. As Erik uncorked the bottle and lifted Miller's head to help him drink, Christine looked over at the still ashen faced first mate. "Go to the galley and bring me anything that you find that will serve as a poultice. Onions, potatoes, mustard seed even bread and milk if you have it, and all the spices you can find that I might grind up to make a tonic. Tell someone to boil a large pot of water, quickly and have them bring it in when it is ready." She was surprised at how calm she sounded even though her heart was beating so loud it was like drums pounding in her ears. Amir was off in a shot and she next turned her attention to the knife that had been brought in earlier. She asked Erik to pour some of the liquor over it and then lighting a candle she began to run the blade in and out of the flame, watching the alcohol burn off any harmful germs.

Erik watched as Chris prepared the knife, fascinated by the knowledge and techniques he had apparently learned from his father. He found it gave him a renewed sense of confidence that the boy knew what he was talking about. Erik understood it had taken a lot of courage for him to come in and offer his help …courage and compassion. Two of the things Erik respected most in a person. Amir came back in with a box of things he had collected and put them down on the chair beside the desk.

"Will these do?" he asked hopefully.

Christine picked through the items, holding up jars and bags, reading their labels if they had one, or smelling the contents of other that didn't. From what little there was she settled on the ones she thought would be most effective. Amir had found onions and potatoes that would serve as the poultice and garlic, honey, sage and turmeric that she could grind up to make a blood cleansing tonic. It was a far cry from the medicines her father would use, but it was all they had. She and Amir worked on thinly slicing up the onions and potatoes into a large bowl and ripped some cloth into wide strips for the poultice. Amir donated his belt for a tourniquet and she cinched it tightly around Millers leg just above the fiery red streaks. Everything was ready, now there was nothing left to do but the part she feared most.

Erik could see it was time, and he hoped the rum he had given Miller was doing its job. He looked down into the frightened man's eyes and did his best to give him reassurance. Pulling a small leather pouch out of his desk he rolled it up and put it between the man's teeth, giving him something to bite on during the pain. Miller looked scared, but he silently nodded to Erik, telling him he was ready.

Erik walked around to where Chris stood with the knife. He took it from the boy with a deep breath, prepared to do what needed to be done.

"Amir, you hold Miller's arms and keep him still," Erik said, watching as his friend quickly got into position, holding the man securely. Looking at Chris he waited for instructions.

"You need to slice along the same line as the first cut, reopening the wound. You will have to go deep, about half an inch in order to reach all the pockets of poison," she told him, relieved beyond words that it was him that would be doing the actual deed. She just hoped she would be able to keep her wits about her and not pass out. Christine was not the squeamish sort and had assisted her father on many occasions, but never before had she been the one looked to for instructions.

Erik's hand was steady, even if his nerves were not, and as the wound split open behind the blade he was glad that Amir was holding the cook in place. Miller cried out in agony, thrashing about violently before his body went limp, passing out from the pain. Erik was actually glad for this since it offered Miller a little bit of relief while they continued. He watched as the boy pressed on the leg, running his hands down from the knee towards the wound coaxing as much of the rancid fluid out as possible. He noted that some of the red had receded and didn't look as spread out any more. After cleaning the wound with a rag and hot water, Chris quickly covered over the savage gash with a layer of cloth, instructing him to apply pressure to now stop the bleeding.

"Once this has subsided I will take off the tourniquet and hopefully he won't lose any more blood than necessary." She then began to pile the onions and potatoes onto another layer of cloth, sprinkling it with some of the spices in preparation for when the bleeding stopped. She looked over at Amir who had released his vice grip somewhat on the now unconscious man. "How is he doing?"

Amir leaned down and placed his ear to his chest.

"His heart is still beating strong," he reported with a relieved look on his face.

"We need to leave the wound open for now to let the poultices do their work. They should be replaced every hour or so until we see a change. If his fever does not break in the next twelve hours it means we didn't get to it in time and we may have to take the leg after all. Let's just hope it does not come to that," she said.

"If he has any chance at all, it is because of you," Erik stated.

Erik saw that his words were rewarded by a brief smile of gratitude from the boy.

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The next few hours were kept busy with the changing of the poultices and coaxing the unconscious man to drink the tonic that Christine mixed up. They had moved him to Erik's bed to make him more comfortable and the three stood watch until late into the night. At first the man had remained feverish but Christine made sure to keep a steady stream of cool compresses on his head and chest to help bring down his temperature. Just as night fell his fever broke and the fire inside him seemed to subside. Miller was at last sleeping peacefully, giving the three a measure of hope that he was going to recover. As Christine changed the most recent poultice they all gave a sigh of relief that most of the poisoned lines were gone and while the wound was still red and raw it was no longer burning hot to the touch. Christine could tell that Erik and Amir were doing their best to assist, but they soon realized that they were now in the way with only tending to do, and gladly stepped back and allowed her to continue the job.

Amir went in and out getting needed supplies, bringing in some food and drink and keeping the rest of the crew updated on Miller's condition, but Erik never once left the cabin. He hated to see one of his men in this condition and refused to leave in case he woke up. As he watched the kid rub his neck from stiffness and exhaustion, Erik found a sense of admiration well up in him over the boy's actions today. He was sure that Chris' father would have been equally proud of his young son. He walked over and leaned against the wall at the head of the bed, looking down at Chris, who had just finished applying the latest poultice on Miller's leg.

"You did a good job. You held it together when a lot of other men would have fallen apart." He motioned towards the window bench where his first mate had just recently laid down and fallen asleep. "Amir for instance, the man is fearless in a battle, but this was the closest I ever saw him to passing out. There is no doubt in my mind that you saved Miller's leg and his life. You will make a fine doctor one day."

"You were the one holding the knife, I only gave instructions," Christine pointed out. "However, I don't think this is the profession for me. I believe it would bother me to be around so much suffering all the time. I am not sure how my father can stand to see things like this, day after day."

"Compassion," Erik stated. "And from what I saw today, it runs in the family. Both your parents would be very proud of what you did here today."

Christine looked up at Erik, once again grateful for his kind words. She wished she could see his expressions better, but with the dark mask covering most of his face it was hard to read him. He had a very ominous presence about him at times, but for some reason right now, she felt comfortable around him, giving her the courage to open up about her past.

"It has always been just my father and I," Christine began. "My mother died when I was born, so he raised me alone, but I don't think he ever expected me to take up his profession. He always said that he wanted better for me. There was never much money in being a small town doctor and most of the time he got paid in chickens and vegetables. While that meant we never starved, we were far from rich. However, the love he gave me and the values he taught me… I think that is where the true wealth lies." She smiled as she thought of her father and what he would say when he heard she had helped save a man's life.

Erik found himself almost grinning over the fact that the boy had not been raised rich and spoiled since birth like he had originally thought. Knowing that Chris and his father had struggled for their livelihood somehow made him admire him even more.

Christine stood up to get the glass of tonic from the desk but after a few steps she got a little light headed and began to sway. The room was spinning too fast and as she grabbed hold of the small table to steady herself, several of the bottles of spices fell over, rolling off and hitting the floor. She was sure she was soon to follow, but instead she felt two strong hands gripping her arms and pulling her upright.

Erik had seen the boy begin to topple over, and stepping forward he was able to react quickly enough to stop him before he went down. He kicked himself for not noticing sooner how truly exhausted the kid was. It had been a very long and traumatic day, and he was sure that Chris was dead on his feet.

"I think you have done enough for one day. You need some sleep," Erik told him, his hands still resting on his forearms, effortlessly supporting his small frame.

"No…no I'm fine," Christine protested, thankful for his steadying hands but at the same time somewhat bothered by his touch. "I just have not eaten enough is all. I need to see if Miller will drink some more of this."

Ignoring his protests, Erik steered the boy towards the small alcove below, making a mental note that they really did need to find a way to put some weight on the lad.

"I will keep an eye on Miller and make sure to change his dressing as well as give him the tonic. I have watched you enough to know how it is done," he said, putting his hand on the kid's shoulders as he sat him firmly down on the small couch. "I promise I will get you if anything changes." His eyes then lit up with a hint of humor as he headed back up to Miller's side. "I might even wake up Amir after a while and let him take a turn."

Christine had been majorly disturbed by the fact that Erik had so easily directed her to the alcove. His obvious strength and advantage over her only reaffirmed in her mind the dangers she could face should her true gender ever be discovered. Christine realized that should Erik choose to do so, he could easily overpower her and force himself upon her without much effort. She felt a shudder run through her at the thought of her blatant vulnerability.

However, there was a new danger she was beginning to feel as well, the danger of becoming somehow attracted to Erik in ways she did not want to acknowledge. She certainly understood physical attraction and the effects it had on the body, though until now she had never experienced it quite this intensely. When Philippe had grabbed her and kissed her, she had not felt anything akin to desire, but the smallest contact with Erik and suddenly all her senses were set ablaze. When he had touched her arm she felt a surge run through her and a tug in the pit of her stomach, one that she could only describe as a yearning. She did her best to deny it, attempting to convince herself that she was just tired from the long day, but no matter how hard she tried, her body would not listen to what her mind was telling her. Erik was beginning to steal her attention, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. Her only safety lay in keeping her identity a secret.

Christine fell asleep quickly from exhaustion, but as she drifted off, she could still feel the warmth of Erik's hands on her arms.

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Uh-oh…I think someone is developing a crush on the masked captain! Who can blame her?

So….whatcha think?