Chapter 5

It must have been near on midnight when the conversations stopped and the storm began to abate slightly. It was with heavy eyes and many half-stifled yawns that she followed Archie to her hammock, which he had kindly strung up beside his. She was too tired to worry when it came to undressing worry about undressing and besides she had thought that enigma through already. Without thinking she turned to the wall and unbuttoned her shirt. She slid her night-shirt over her head without removing it and only slid her uniform off when she was fully under its flimsy protection. She tried to make it seem like the most natural thing in the world to her, but when she turned around to find Archie standing with his shirt in his hands, there was a question in his eyes.

"I feel the cold easily." She shrugged, underlining the unimportance of her actions. Archie just smiled and continued to undress. The rest of the midshipmen were entering the room with heavy treads and much grumbling, but Lorna found her eyes could not move from Archie's chest: the smooth muscles moving as he went to pick up his night-shirt. She gulped and spun round to her hammock, nibbling on her bottom lip, as his trousers fell from beneath the white cotton. She pulled the ribbon from her hair and climbed up, pulling the rough blanket over her body. Eventually the rustling of bodies stopped and the goodnights were said; Cleaveland blew out the small lamp and the room fell into darkness.

I'm here, in my hammock, in the Navy, in a ship. I am safe, my secret is safe. I have friends, I have a new life, I have adventure, I have all I ever wanted… Then why, in the name of all that's Holy, can I not get to sleep! She rolled over in the hammock, it moved uncomfortably under her weight. Why did I stare at him like that? Why do I feel so strange? Her thoughts swam in and out of her consciousness as the aching in her limbs and the soft roll of the ship finally claimed her for sleep…

***

She was dreaming of Ireland. She was returning home, the prodigal child, and her father was there. The look in his eyes was shock and… fear? He looked older, his hair whiter than ever. She tried to smile but could not. She knew she hated the man before her and she knew he had betrayed her and hurt her. She looked away, wanting to see anything but him. She looked at her hand. A golden band encircled her finger and she looked at it oddly. She felt odd; dressed in strange high-waisted gown. She felt so bare in the thin silk, so unprotected. The hidden knife would protect her, the cold metal pressed against her skin. She felt warm breath on her face. Startled, she looked up just as lips brushed hers. She heard him moan. The image was dissolving…

The moan continued, seeming louder all the time. She awoke to see others, bleary eyed and uncomprehending, waking around her. The moaning was almost a scream and Archie began to shake violently in his hammock. He threw himself from the canvas and fell to the floor with a heavy thud, and continued to convulse on the floor. Lorna clambered as fast as she could to his side, to find Horatio climbing down too. Archie's eyes were bloodshot and unseeing as they rolled into his head and his sweat soaked body was writhing in spasms on the floor. His mouth opened and shut as the unearthly sound continued out. It took their combined strength to hold him still.

The fit left him as swiftly as it had arrived. The moan caught in his throat and he fell back lifeless and still to the deck. She pushed some of his damp hair from his eyes and turned to Horatio. Her voice was calm when she spoke but her eyes were wide in fear.

"What was that? What happened to him?" Horatio said nothing for a moment, staring unblinkingly at his peaceful friend. "Horatio!"

"I thought they had stopped. We all did." Horatio's voice was barely a murmur, he seemed to be speaking to himself. "When we left Justinian, when we left him, he stopped having them... Archie has these fits when there's something… frightening him." Horatio chose his words carefully as he met her eyes at last. "This is the first in three months. He must have been having nightmare…" Lorna knew when not to press it. She nodded and gave Horatio a slight smile.

"Me must get him back into his cot." The limp figure was lifted awkwardly back into the hammock and Lorna drew the blanket up to his chin, whilst Horatio reassured the others. She gave him one last look as he lay once more asleep, and moved back to her bed. It was a long time listening to his even breathing, before she herself fell into a calm slumber.