A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews. I'm glad to know that you all shared in my pain of the last chapter. But never fear, I believe that E and C are truly in love. And one of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies is "This is true love - you think this happens every day?"
Ch. 9 – Tempest
Matching the mood aboard the Fereshteh, within an hour's time of Christine's return to her cabin, the ship began to pitch violently. They had sailed into a torrential rainstorm. Christine could hear shouts outside of the cabin as the men hurried up on deck to weather the tempest. Stone stopped by her cabin to tell her to remain there before going topside. "Things are going to get rough while we ride this bluster out. You stay here safely inside." Seeing her swollen eyes and tear streaked face he added, "Every storm eventually calms, Christine."
After he had left she set about securing some of the items within the cabin. She used some of the men's clothing that had yet to be mended, to tie down loose items that had begun to slide about the room. Charles awoke after a clap of thunder that shook the very walls. He looked frightened and Christine sat on his cot, pulled him into her lap and held him. She realized that, while she meant to comfort him, the contact was actually helping to soothe the ache in her heart.
"What is happening Mama?"
"We have sailed into a storm, love. We will sail out of it again." She thought of him then. He was, no doubt, up on deck fighting the storm along with his men. She was afraid for him right now and hoped that despite the state that she had left him in, he was being cautious. She prayed that his anger did not make him reckless. What is he doing commanding a ship, she wondered. She hadn't asked him, it had not crossed her mind until now. It had been inconsequential.
A knock on the door roused her out of the thoughts. Without asking who was knocking, she swung the barrier open to find a large, red haired man on the other side. He was dripping wet, and, as his eyes settled on her; he gave her a sweeping glance from her head to her bare toes. He swiped a fist over his mouth, his eyes still boring into her and said, "Beg your pardon miss, sorry to disturb you and little Charlie there. Captain asked me to come and get you. He wants you moved to a more secure location during the storm."
Something in the man's eyes bothered Christine. He was looking at her like a man in the desert would look at an oasis. She knew that Erik would not have sent a man that she didn't know to move her and her son. He would have sent Stone to see to them. Then she considered further, Unless he had a greater need for Stone up on deck, then he would send a subordinate. After what had transpired between them a few hours ago, she did not want to blatantly disobey his instructions, if they were his instructions. It would be foolish if their lives were in danger and she had allowed her pride to cloud her judgment.
"If I could just have a moment to fetch a wrap and Charles's blanket?" She asked.
"Sure miss, whatever you think you'll be needing." He leaned against the doorframe lazily as if there were no hurry.
Curious as to his behavior, her suspicions of the man deepened. "You say the Captain wants us moved to a more secure location? Where would that be?"
"Oh, there's a storage room that is situated more in the middle of the ship. I'm sure he wants you to be as safe as you can be." Perusing her form again he said, "We all figured there was a lady on board. We've seen Charlie up on deck, but not you. It would have been a pleasant distraction."
Once again she found herself feeling very uncomfortable with the man's attentions. She was about to tell the man that she would like for the Captain to come and move them himself, when she heard a familiar voice. "Harcourt, what are you doing at Madam de Chagny's door?"
Stone had just entered the passage and was shocked to see the crewman. "All hands are to be up on deck. You did not have permission to come below!" He glanced inside her room and saw her clutching Charles's hand and a blanket. "What is this, man? Where were you taking them?"
"Captain told me to move them to the interior storeroom for their safety." Harcourt answered without missing a beat.
Stone knew instantly that the man was lying, but rather that risk a confrontation, he said, "Apparently the Captain has changed his mind then. He has instructed that Madame de Chagny and her son are to remain here in their cabin through the storm. You are needed topside, Mr. Harcourt. I suggest you move along."
Stone watched the man walk confidently down the passage and mount the stairs. He turned back to Christine and closed her door. "What did he say to you?" he asked looking worried.
"Just the same that he told you. That Erik had commanded him to move us to a more secure location. He was lying wasn't he?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so. His name is Harcourt. We picked him up in Le Havre. He had come recommended by some of the others, but he has caused a few problems on board before this. What could he have been thinking? He couldn't have gotten away with it!"
Christine could guess what the man's intentions had been and shuddered to think of how close she had just come to putting herself and her son in danger again. Angry, she spat out, "Are there no men left on this Earth that can be trusted?"
Stone felt that she was referring to his giving her the drugged tea and uncomfortably lowered his gaze in embarrassment.
"I didn't mean you Stone, I just can't believe this! I am in danger at every turn."
Remembering Apollos's reaction to his earlier revelations, he asked, "Did the captain threaten you? Are you in danger from him?"
"No. Erik would never harm me." She was shocked at her own confidence in that statement, but realized it was true. She laughed morbidly then as another thought struck her, "We manage to hurt ourselves enough."
"The Captain will be livid when he hears of Harcourt's actions. That man may not complete this voyage!"
She agreed with that statement. Erik would make the man pay dearly for his boldness.
"I figure he thought to find out if the rumors were true about there being a woman onboard while the rest of us were busy with the storm. He knew that everyone was going to be occupied up top for most of the night. Sick bastard!" Stone didn't want to think of what could have happen had he not come down to check on Christine. He dreaded the eventual moment when he would tell the Captain about this incident.
Knowing that he had to return to assist the crew, he turned to Christine and said, "Keep this door locked and don't let anyone but the Captain or myself in. I will keep Harcourt in my sights from now on."
"When will you tell Erik?" She too was fearful of Erik's revenge on the man. She had no concern for this man Harcourt. His deeds merited the worst sort of justice, but she hated that because of her, Erik would once again be thrust into the hell of his own fury.
"As soon as the storm has passed. He has enough to deal with right now." Leaving the room, he paused in the hall to hear her deadbolt slide into place and then continued up and into the blinding rain.
The gales had continued on into the night and part of the morning. When at last the waters lay calm, the crewmen returned to their cabins to strip out of their raingear and soaked clothing. As Erik returned to his cabin, he looked at the damage that he had caused the night before. Papers, broken glass and unidentifiable fragments littered the floor. He had been grateful for the storm, it had helped him to work off his anger. He had exhausted his body and not had a second to think of what had transpired between himself and Christine. The destruction of his room was a bleak reminder. Waves of hurt threatened to retake him, but he suppressed the urge to give into them. He still had a lifetime to wallow in his misery and self-pity, for now he needed rest.
After removing his slicker and boots, he divested himself of a drenched shirt and pants. After toweling off his body he pulled on a pair of lounging pants and replaced his mask. He hadn't worn it up on deck, knowing that the rain and wind would have made it impossible for him to keep it in place. The men had gotten used to his face. Most sailors had seen various horrors throughout their lives and his face was no where near as grotesque to them as it was to the average person.
That had been one of the many reasons that he had decided on this career. He could remember leaving the opera house, not knowing what would become of him. He had traveled by night to the coast and joined a crew onboard a cargo freighter much like this one. He had longed to put distance between France and himself. Soon after the voyage had begun, he found that life on the sea suited him. No one cared or was bothered by his mask, most never even commented on it. When his face had been exposed by accident, he was shocked to find that the men went about their business as if nothing had occurred at all. Feeling at ease with his appearance for the first time in his life, he engrossed himself in learning the ins and outs of the shipping business. He had served most every position on board, never satisfied with only knowing something part way. The Captain that he had answered to had been supportive of his eager crewman, passing on his knowledge and eventually encouraging Erik to purchase his own ship. Two years after his first crossing, he had earned enough wages, combined with the salary that he had taken from the Opera, that he was able to purchase a small freighter.
That ship he had christened the Amnita, after the heroine in his Don Juan. Stone had been recruited within that first year of his commanding the Amnita, and the two had remained together ever since. Finding crew was easy enough, but finding trustworthy sailors was another. Stone had proved himself time and again to be a loyal first mate. As Erik grew to know the man, he found that he couldn't understand his desire to continue to sail for months on end when he had a loving wife and beautiful family waiting for him. If he had been blessed with a normal life, nothing could keep him from it.
After three more years, the Amnita was retired and he purchased the beautiful, large vessel that he now commanded. He had named it Fereshteh, knowing that only those who spoke Farsi, the language native to Persia, would translate its meaning, Angel.
His desire for a true home had become more and more burning with each passing year. Eventually, he purchased a house and some land outside of Charleston in America. He loved the landscape in Carolina, despite the ever growing city, the land still felt untouched. Whenever he was able to return to his house, he felt that he was as far from Paris as was possible.
His enthusiasm and evident love for America had rubbed off on Stone, and he had encouraged his friend to bring his family across the Atlantic to settle in the foreign land. Stone's formidable wife, Maura and his rambunctious children had been the first passengers allowed on board. Despite the complete turmoil that they had caused during the crossing, Erik loved the opportunity to watch a happy family interact. He loved to watch the children with their father, desperately wishing that somehow he would be granted this beautiful miracle in his own life. When they had landed and Maura had settled her brood into their home, the Fereshteh set sail once again, leaving behind the wonderful domesticity that he had come to cherish.
That had been a year ago, and he had since grown tired of Stone's apparent lack of appreciation for the gift that he had been granted. His relationship with the man had soured slightly as his jealousy took root. Each time that Stone returned to embark on the next voyage, Erik found himself cursing the man for his foolish arrogance.
He knew that he had been harsh with Stone today and regretted it deeply. Despite how Erik felt about Stone's decision to continue to sail, it was not his place to question the other man's motivations. He had let his own discontentment spoil the only friendship that he had cultivated in his lifetime. Now it was most likely ruined beyond repair much like the objects in his cabin.
As Erik lamented his actions toward Stone, the other man was steeling his courage for the inevitable discussion that he was to have with his Captain regarding Harcourt. He had watched the red-haired man retire to his cabin and now felt that it was safe to let down his guard and abandon his surveillance for the time being. He was torn between allowing the Captain to rest and getting the deed over with. Finally reaching the conclusion that he would not be able to find rest himself, he went Apollos's room.
Erik wrapped himself in a black silk robe and answered the door. His recent thoughts of Stone caused him
to feel discomfited as he was faced with the man.
Before he could speak, Stone stared in shock at the state of the room. He composed himself and spoke, "Sir, there is a matter that I have to address with you."
"Before you do Stone, I feel the need to apologize about last night. There is no excuse for my actions toward you. I acted savagely and I hope that in time, you will forgive my despicable behavior."
Stone was not used to seeing his commander humble himself to anyone. He was surprised, but also proud that the Captain valued him enough to demote himself. "I don't pass judgment on you Captain. You have to wrestle your demons on your own. I just hope that you will consider me an ally and not a threat in the future."
"Thank you, Stone." Relieved, he prompted the man to get on with his reason for the visit.
"It pains me to no end to give you this report, so brace yourself Captain. That man Harcourt that we enlisted in Le Havre? Well, while the rest of us were topside during the storm, he approached Madame de Chagny."
Erik's face hardened instantly and fire was visible in his eyes. "Was she harmed?"
"No, I had set out to check on her when I found him on her doorstep. He had told her that you meant for her to be moved to a safer location." Moments ago Erik had shown his human side. That side was no longer present. Stone knew without a doubt that Harcourt was about to meet his demise unless he could convince Erik to mete out a more humane punishment.
"Captain, I know what you are intending, but I beg you to consider a lashing. You don't want to give in to your lust for revenge with Christine on board. She would appreciate your showing some restraint."
He knew Stone was right, Christine would not want him to kill again because of her. She valued life, even the life of the most vile creatures that walked the Earth, including himself. A lashing was the usual form of punishment onboard a ship, and it almost always served as a suitable deterrent.
"Rouse the men and call all hands on deck. This matter will be dealt with immediately."
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Christine slept fitfully, exhausted from the events that had taken place the previous night. She was not aware that on the floor above her, a man was tied to the mainmast, receiving forty lashes at the hand of her avenging Angel.