Chapter 7

Nightmares and Memories

The white dress draped beautifully to the floor, from my waist it fell slimly and just brushed the stone slabs beneath my feet. As I stepped forward the train dragged along behind me hissing like a python. One even step after another I drew closer to the man who waited for me at the altar. I could not see his face. He wore a navy blue uniform, and next to him was another dressed in the same clothing only with blonde hair, not brown. My arm was looped through that of the man walking me to the priest, and behind me a woman kept the slow pace with us. In French weddings the mother walks behind the bride as a sign of passing on the responsibility of continuing the line. This woman was not my mother. The man was not my father. I continued walking, growing ever more conscious of the death grip he had on my arm.

I was not three paces from the man I was going to marry when he turned around to look at me. Suddenly the pews burst into flames as did the face of the man in blue. His flesh melted away revealing another face. It was cruel and angular, with hollow cheeks and a pallid complexion beneath shiny white hair.

"Wake up! Wake up!" Issued a voice that seemed to come from the mouth of the disgusting figure, but the sound did not belong to him. I fell to the floor, coughing and spluttering, my hands were grazed on the wooden planks.

"Mére!(Mother) Father! Help me!" I screamed, in a shrill voice. The house was burning. Crawling on my hands and knees towards the window I saw a man running away, a black cane swinging behind him looped over one arm. Then he turned. His platinum blonde hair coloured strangely because of the raging fire reflecting off it. The fire was all around me, my home, everything. I could not see the door, only the oncoming flames ready to claim their victim. I backed up against the window as a tendril of flame leapt out and licked my arm, I screamed out. Then I was falling, I saw the broken window above me, the flames fanning out to the rest of my home. Then I hit something, hard.

I was not in as much pain as I expected, having fallen out of the second floor window of my family's town house and hitting cobbles I thought I would be in agony. My fingers stroked the ground, it had small uneven lines running along it and it wasn't as cold as stone was. I slowly opened my eyes. A young man's lips were moving but there was no sound, his eyes were wide, terrified. I took more interest in the background, it was a deep brown and the flickering light of a candle danced on it's shiny surface. Locating the source of the light I pushed myself away from it. Fire bad, very bad. My hearing slowly started to fade back in. At first all I heard was a buzzing sound but gradually it settled into words.

"Sophie, Sophie! Can you hear me? Mr Boyle, put out that candle, I don't think she likes it. Sophie?" I wanted to say something to reassure the person before me, but no matter how hard I tried my voice did not fill the silence. "I think you had better wake Dr Maturin"

"Yes." The boy scampered off. The other pulled me up into his lap, this made me feel oddly safe.

"Shhh, it's all right now, it's not real. Calm down." I realized that tears had painted tracks down my face and so I blinked them away. How pathetic you must look I thought whilst using part of my nightdress to wipe away the salty water. Dr Maturin had arrived, he stood for a moment in the doorway using his analytical stare to take in the scene of a grown woman sobbing, being cradled in the lap of a lieutenant whilst he whispered and tried to comfort her.

"So, what is the problem with Miss Carson Beaumier then?" He said with a rather exasperated dead pan delivery.

"She started crying, I was worried so I unlocked her door and found her in her hammock. She fell shortly after I tried to wake her." Explained Peter matter of factly. "Mr Boyle heard too and came to help." He continued. "I sent him to get you because I was worried about her."

"It's not a surprise she is troubled, I can only wonder at what horrors she's endured." Said the doctor, continuing in his monotonous voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Piped up Mr Boyle. Maturin waved away the question and opened up his leather bag with his medical instruments inside, revealing a small bottle with a dark, sluggish liquid inside. He instructed Peter to open my mouth. I followed his order without needing Peter's help. The alcohol of some sort slid gown my throat, scorching as it went. After another few minutes my eyelids began to flutter and I fell back into the abyss of sleep.

The clattering about of the crew woke me. As I was below the gun deck there was no way of knowing what time it was. The memories from last night rose to the surface slowly, each one causing a stab of pain to run up my left arm, the skin there was still a deep red colour from all those years ago. I decided that being alone wouldn't improve my mood so I got dressed, and for the feeling of security it gave me, I concealed both pistols under a thin shawl. Ever since that harrowing night when my parents had died I had found fire both terrifying and beautiful. I had dedicated my life to finding the man who ran from my burning home, the way he looked back at my house with quiet satisfaction as sparks rose up towards the heavens and everything I had was turned to ash. I fished a small mirror from my sea chest to make sure that I did not have red eyes, after all a naval agent of His Majesty did not show such weakness in public. Anyway I had been feeble enough to last a lifetime last night.

I unlocked my door and found Mr Williamson asleep perched on a chair outside my door, what use you are. I shook him forcefully and headed up, dragging him behind me. When I stepped up on deck, the cause of the incessant noise was revealed to me, almost the whole crew was on deck and were fixing up the ship. The men worked on everything from the rudder to the figure head. Judging by the sun it was roughly two hours before noon. I located the captain, he was strolling around the deck dictating a list of damaged ship parts, Mr Calamy followed him and was writing the list onto a small blackboard. A look of terror flashed over my face as I thought of how the captain would treat me if he knew what had happened last night. Please Peter, don't have told him! I mentally slapped myself, preparing myself for yet another ordeal, and walked briskly up to the captain.

"Sir, ahem, I wish to speak to you about the possibility of stopping-for a short time only- at the coast." I asked in the calmest way I could muster, I could feel the captain's gaze and Peter's on me. I stared at my shoes, studying the scuff marks, I could not even look at Mr Calamy at that moment.

"You do know that we are chasing the Acheron? We really cannot delay, not now."

"It is for that purpose that we must stop, we can't just spin a bottle and sail off in that direction, mustn't we know which direction she sails in? And there are other reasons." I really hoped the captain got my point. He gestured for Peter to hand me the chalk and blackboard which I quickly accepted before bobbing a hurried curtsy. He saluted and headed over to Mr Mowett who had called him over to look at something.

"What do you know?" He muttered, whilst I made sure no one was eavesdropping.

"Well, I wish to check on an agent on the coast of Brazil, I'm awfully worried that the Acheron may have captured him. Of all the agents in these waters...he knows the missions, the trade routes, everything. If he is still there we must find him, it is likely he will have more information for us too. What I mean to say is if the Acheron did not find him then we must." I spoke extremely fast, even for me.

"All right, I guess we should take on provisions, some fresh water would be nice." He conceded defeat.

"Yes, my main reason for wanting to stop at the coast is to find some less weevily biscuits!" I joked, I didn't have to see my face to know that the smile didn't reach my eyes.

Mr Allen stomped over, his typical gritted teeth and frowning countenance present as always. I chose to leave at this moment as I did not wish to incur the wrath of the Sailing Master. He tutted as I walked past, with a barely audible:

"Women, on board a Man of War. What next?" Following his comment came a barked laugh from Jack. I shook my head I would have been better off a boy, on later reflection I realized that there were some merits to being female.

I ran down to the infirmary with Mr Williamson reluctantly following me, to guard me. I could think of many people more suitable for that duty, I'd seen Mr Williamson at target practise, and to put it kindly, if he was in a fight with a chair he would probably lose. I headed down to the ship's stores and picked up some black bread straight out of a crate so that the poisoner had no opportunity to slip something into my food. I dragged Mr Williamson into the infirmary and found Will sitting up in his hammock and engrossed in a book, back to normal then..

"Hello, I'm glad to see you're better."

"I'm glad to be better." He replied, smiling. I was so happy to see him not shivering or coated in sweat.

"I brought lunch."

"Forgive me if I do not explode with excitement. I'm afraid food on ships isn't particularly delicious, someone should have warned you before you joined this voyage."

"It's too late for that now." I spoke my mind and smiled back at the hardy midshipman.

So I'm back with chapter seven, I think I should probably explain the dream sequence:

the bit in the church is all about the future she wants but the past that is holding her back, e.g. missing parents and man at the altar. The fire is a memory that she has buried but has risen to the surface since she opened up to Will and Peter. Please review!