Chapter 11

Alviarin woke to a large hand slowly moving up her arm until it touched her face warmly. She would have started, eyes flying open, if not for the gentle warning pressure. His face was turned toward her, eyes still covered. She gave a minute nod to let him know she was awake, and at the same moment heard the voices.

They were closer this time, the same ones as before, and she could make out words.

"…the way we used before? …different…"

"No, see…. Your ugly boot print… climb up. "

Laughter ensued.

She hardly dared to breath. Contrarily, the Captain's breath came calmly, his fingers moved over her face in a gentle, reassuring and slightly inquisitive manner.

For a heartbeat she closed her eyes and gave herself to the moment. His palm was rough, but the strong fingers were gentle. If she were to die right now, she'd take this moment with her.

"… will have to keep… fresh air…"

The voices were moving away. She could hear their steps growing more and more silent, and finally allowed herself a breath. To her surprise she began shaking like a frightened rabbit. She pulled her arms around herself, willing her body to stop, trying to force calming air into her lungs.

Chandler gently reached around her and stroke her back, the movement a little clumsy.

"Shh, they are gone."

It took her a while to calm down enough to push away, leaning on one arm. "Sir? Feeling better?" He had turned onto his left side! "Your shoulder!"

"Everything hurts, but my head is clearer."

Tears sprung into her eyes. "You sound more like yourself, Sir." she whispered.

"Is there more water?"

Quickly she reached up and offered him the bottle. He drank deeply, grimacing only slightly at the taste.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes, but first I have questions." He carefully let himself sink onto his back again.

Her heart sank.

"Where are we? Where is the Nathan James? Who are you?" – "A small island in the Atlantic. She had to leave. There is a code on your pager that I can not decipher, Sir." She left out the last question on purpose. He did not notice at once. "What code?"

She repeated the numbers to him.

Chandler frowned deeply. "We've been left behind on a nameless island? Why? Who were the voices outside? Why could we not call out to them for help? Ah -" he tried to stifle a groan. "My head is killing me."

Alviarin sat up purposefully and took his hand. "Sir, I don't think it is wise for you to move too much nor work yourself into a frenzy over these questions. I cannot answer all of them, and would probably annoy you even more. If you can solve this stupid code, I will do my best to get you back onto the Nathan James. Begging your pardon, Sir."

That gave him thought for a moment, then a grim smile lightened the drawn face. "All right, but give me a name."

"Call me Erin, Sir." She could not quite put a finger on why she gave him her middle name.

"Erin, huh? You don't sound irish." He reached up and tried to lift the moist piece of cotton from his eyes. But opening them caused his breathing to stop for a moment.

It hurt to see him in such pain. "Sir, give yourself time, please. You had a nasty fall only twenty-four hours ago." She trickled a bit more water on the sleeve. "The code, Sir?" she reminded him gently. "I've figured out the coordinates, but the other numbers elude me."

"It's the time when there will be someone from the crew waiting. The ship can not come to said coordinates, but one of the smaller stealth boats can pick up stragglers." He sounded faint.

Alviarin stared at the pale face, working through the implications. From two hours before midnight to three after there might be a boat waiting on the other end of the island? Hope warred with hopelessness, elation with desperation. She felt overwhelmed.

Fighting her inner turmoil, she offered him the carbolyte solution again. With her help he sat half up and took a few sips. When she would have let him lay down again, he refused, but finally settled for her backpack under his head.

"You're very quiet."

"Just thinking, sir. I'll be right back – we need more water."

"Find some apples, will you? Anything fresh will do!"

If those words were meant to bring a smile to her face, they called forth the opposite. The young woman sat by the spring, waiting for the bottle to fill, sobs shaking her body. She splashed water onto her face and neck, rubbing at her temples. Then she grabbed water cress, as much as she could find easily, and started on her way back.

Suddenly returning to the cave seemed taunting. So she made the quick detour up to the outcrop, to look after their enemy.

Standing there, watching the mocking slender Submarine lying in the formerly so inviting bay, she realised she was scared of the captain gaining full memory of everything that had happened – including her name and all the reasons he had mistrusted her. She suppressed that apprehension once she had put a name to it, and watched the ants alertly. If she interpreted the movements correctly, they were planning to stay a bit longer. Damn it. She turned and jumped down through the pines, stopping only to pluck a few handfuls of the tender edible clovers.

Bending down into the cave she found him patting the floor and his sleeping bag curiously.

"Trying to make sense of your surroundings, sir?" she tried to joke, but her voice wavered. What was it with her?

"You've been gone a while." There was a slight tension to his words.

"There are no apples, Sir, but if you are willing to try, I brought watercress and clovers."

She put them down within easy reach, and gently put his hand onto the mound of leaves.

But the Captain hesitated, cocking his head a little. "Spill, what did you see out there?"

"Sir?"

"Your voice is betraying you. Speak."

Oh great, now the tears were rolling again. She sat down heavily. "Eat, Sir, please, and give me a moment."

His mouth twitched, but he brought a few stalks to his lips.

Alviarin took a few calming breaths and finally managed to explain the situation. "So with the ship waiting there, the danger of being discovered is growing every hour. But if she moves, the Nathan James could be forced to leave us here for good."

Chandler had finished the green stalks with surprising speed, and now held out his right hand. "Give me your hand, Erin."

She slipped her fingers into his large warm ones shyly. It surprised her how much hearing her name from his lips meant.

"Stop shaking. You've done an impressive job, we will figure out what to do from here together."

Slowly he put question after question before her, forcing her to analyse the situation, pulling her out of the dim desperation.

"All right, there are two options," he finally concluded.

"Two? Sir?"

"Yes. Either you leave me here and try to make the rendezvous-"

"Absolutely not."

"- and come back with more help."

"No, Sir." She was shaking again, but he held her hand tightly.

"Why not?"

"I refuse to leave you, Sir. There are too many maybe's."

"So tell me the second option."

The young woman stared at him. "Captain." She sighed, then pulled her hand forcefully out of his fingers and answered in a harder voice. "The second option is to walk you down through the pathless forest in near darkness to the point the coordinates specify. Concussion, painful eyes, fever and all. We'd have to start in a few hours. Sir. It's past midday now."

"Indeed."

She could see that the prospect was daunting to him, too. "Sir… " They did not even know if he could stand by himself, let alone walk, even with her shoulder to lean on. And his eyes…

As if reading her thoughts, he took a deep breath.

"Let's try this: Help me get upright and a few steps outside."

"Sir?" This was getting scary.

Very dryly he answered: "I need to relieve myself."

Mortified, the young woman blushed. "I'm sorry I didn't think to ask you before, Sir." She reached for the ends of the thermoblanket.

"It's fine, young woman! You haven't been in the navy long!"

That brought a wry grin to her face. "No sir, I haven't." She put his shoes on his feet and finally helped him sit up. But a gasp of pain made her hesitate. "Sir? Anything I can do?"

"Think you could fashion a bandage I could use to cover my eyes?"

She'd cut the sleeve from her jacket and made a long strip from that faster than she could think, and then cut a square piece from her soft undershirt. Moistening that, she folded it in half and knelt down before Chandler. "Sir, don't startle, this is a little wet."

Gently tilting his head backwards, she put the square over his eyes and fastened it with the strip. "I hope this is ok. I used up all the bandages from my first aid kit."

"Much better, thank you. Why are you laughing?"

"Oh sir, you are a sight. There's more of you covered than left free, and that is dirty. Does the wound feel all right?"

"If I don't touch it, it's just numb."

"And the shoulder?"

"Miss, Erin, there are more pressing issues." Now he was smiling, too, if grimly.

She slipped under his good arm and carefully, keeping up a constant string of information, guided him out of the overhang and a few steps down to the next pine tree.

"Now please turn around, I'd like to keep the last shreds of my dignity."

Laughing silently to herself she did as he asked, certain he'd know if she defied his wish.

He managed reasonably well, to both their relief. Back inside the cave, he stayed sitting for a moment.

"Listen, check your first aid kit for some Ibuprofen. If I am to manage the trip down to the beach, I think I will need a painkiller."

Alviarin did as he asked silently. Even if she did not fully support his choice, she knew this was their only chance. Either way, they had to move further away from the bay. At least the sky would stay clear tonight.

"I think you should try and sleep some more, Sir. I can get more willowbark and more green stuff meanwhile, but we will have to wait a couple of hours to be safe anyway."

"Yes, get all those things, but then lie down with me."

Oh god, did the guilt have to choose this moment to remind her that he'd never say those words if he could see her?

"Back in a bit, Sir."

She returned with her shirt full of clover and watercress. The Captain's long form was stretched out on his back, the thermoblankets pulled over him. At her near silent entrance, he moved his right hand.

"I'm half awake. Anything significant?"

He'd guessed correctly that she'd taken a moment to check on the enemy ship. "No, Sir. They are preparing to sleep on the sand, a couple of fires are burning. I'd risk waiting an hour and a half, but not more."

"I trust you're judgement. Now lie down."

'Captain, if you knew how much force your words carry.' The young woman suppressed a sigh and lay down along his good side. His hand found her arm, and feeling the goosebumps he pulled at her impatiently. "You slept against my back, now move closer. If I keep using your coat as pillow, you will use my warmth."

He did not rest until her head lay against his shoulder, his arm around her, the blanket covering them both. The young woman lay tense until she realised that he had relaxed completely and was fast nearing sleep. Then she allowed her eyes to close, her limbs to soften. She did not see the small smile that softened the Captain's stern features.