For anyone who wondered what movie the lines in last chapter were from, it was the Last of the Mohicans, a story set during the French and Indian War in America. It remains one of my most favorite movies. Ironically, the main female character is named Cora! I'd heartily recommend it to anyone who likes historical epic romance type movies.
Chapter Three
The Second Coming
in which the enemy is engaged anew
Days slipped by and the August sun blazed down on the deck, chasing everyone who had no duties inside. Stephen found himself once again in Jack's cabin that morning, but it was too hot to even contemplate playing once he'd dragged himself there.
"Have you decided what to do about Cora? Miss Turner, I mean." He asked as Jack was taking a drink.
The captain heaved a sigh and drained the rest of his cup.
"I'm tempted to take her to port and parole her, but I can't let her go until I understand what she meant about betraying her captain. She's here for a reason- why else would she be sent over as part of some prodigious strange boarding party? No," He sighed again. "I don't know what to do about her."
"Has she even been out of the brig since you talked to her?"
"No."
"Why not, joy? Surely she could do with some air after five days down there."
"She's a woman on board a ship with nearly two hundred men who've seen maybe six women other women in the course of three months. I think she could do with safety more than with fresh air."
"True enough, but if I am with her on deck, no harm would come to her, correct? I could try and discover what these mysterious orders she has are."
"That would be just the thing, Stephen." Jack adopted his customary smile, as bright now as it was years before when they first met. "Lord knows I'd be near insanity being trapped in the brig like her, especially after living a whole life at sea. Go down and tell the marines on guard that she's to go with you under my orders."
Cora herself was more surprised by this turn of events than by the marines, who stood aside readily for the doctor. She crept out slowly and held out her hands for the manacles to come off, then eyed him with a healthy dose of caution.
"Where are we going?"
"The captain thought that you might want some fresh air, and I am to accompany you on deck for as long as you wish."
"Many thanks, Doctor."
"Stephen. If I am to call you by your Christian name, you could at least use mine."
She rewarded him with a small smile at that, and followed him onto the deck.
"There's nothing quite like the Caribbean in August." She said with a stretch, utterly ignorant of the stares of the men on deck. "How is the crew doing with the heat?"
"We cope as best we can. I myself grew up in Spain, so it is no stranger to me. Although this heat is much wetter, I should think."
"Spain? Your accent makes no more sense than mine."
"I'm half Irish and half Catalan, actually."
She took this in with a nod, moving ahead of him within a few steps. From behind he could see a few dark, curling strands of hair falling from her bandana. He wanted to continue their conversation, but the sight of them had distracted him utterly. He'd seen women's hair done up in a thousand different ways, covered by wigs and bedecked with jewels, but the sight had never compelled him as much as Cora's hidden hair.
She reached the starboard rail soon, not far from the helm, and stood there staring across the sea. She glanced back at him, and only then did Stephen remember to follow her.
"Does the captain intend to put into port any time soon?"
"I wouldn't be the person to ask."
"You seem close to him."
"Yes, but I have as much knowledge of the sea as a tortoise has of flying."
"The sea is all I know." She responded. She was sure to begin carefully when she went to speak again. "So if you don't know about our sailing plans, I take it you don't know about the captain's plans for me."
"I am certain he won't hang you, but beyond that I don't know."
Silence once more. She leaned on the rail for a moment, staring at the water, then turned back to him.
"It was kind of you to bring me up here, Stephen, but it would be better if I went back to the brig. We both came here hoping to learn something from each other, but neither of us is going to budge. It would be better to simply call this match a draw."
Stephen would've loved to contradict her, keep her on deck just a little bit longer, but he couldn't. Every word she said was true.
So he took her back below deck and then returned to his orlop. Jack came by later to ask how his turn about the deck went.
"She called my bluff before I even began it. She asked to be taken back to the brig." Stephen shook his head and toyed with the samples he brought back with him from the Galapagos. "There is something about her manner, Jack. She may not be willing to tell us about her orders, but she clearly doesn't like them either. There may yet be a way to turn her against her captain."
"Although the fact that it's her mother does make it a sight harder."
"Or it could be all the easier."
Later that night he went back up on the deck and noticed that something in the air had changed. Belligerent clouds hung in the distant sky and the sea seemed a little more restless.
"It's hurricane season here, I'm afraid." Jack grumbled as they stood at the bow, watching the clouds. "We must stop off at the nearest port and take on food and water, then make a run for it. We'll make it clear of the Caribbean before any real storm comes at us."
So it was that they decided to put in at Georgetown, a small port not far from Brazil. Stephen remembered Cora asking if they'd be putting into port anytime soon and debated about whether or not he should tell her where they were going. On the one hand, it could set off the very trap he and Jack were trying to avoid. On the other, giving her what she wanted might in turn make her more willing to give them what they wanted.
Stephen waited until they docked at Georgetown two days later and most of the crew was off, including Jack. Earlier, when he asked if he might take Cora up on deck again once they docked, the captain had reacted with laughter.
"Is she one of your animals, Stephen? Take her out of her cage whenever you like, so long as you keep an eye on her."
Night had fallen when he went to get her, and they both breathed a sigh of relief at the coolness in the air.
"That's the wonderful thing about the heat," She said, moving to where she stood before at the starboard rail. "Once it gets to night everything is so cool and still."
"Are we to discuss the weather again? I could start with a discourse on Ireland's various rains."
"I wouldn't mind, but I doubt that's why you brought me up here." She tipped her head back, ignoring the silken black water below them for the velvety sky above. Only patches were visible. "We're going to get ourselves caught in a right squall, if you ask me." She remarked.
"That's why Captain Aubrey had us dock here. He intends to outrun the storm, and he needed the supplies."
"I doubt we'll make it."
"He's an excellent seaman. He's put us through the Cape twice in nearly as many months. This shouldn't deter us."
She dropped her gaze to stare at the water once more. In the darkness it was difficult to make out her face, even as close as they were standing.
"Why did it matter if we were going to put into port?" Stephen asked her after a moment.
"Couldn't it have been simple curiosity?"
"I doubt it was. But to satisfy any you may have had, we will be here for one more day and then we will leave. We hope to put into Gibraltar before September and from there we return to Portsmouth."
Cora shifted away from him. The bell sounded six times, clear above the distant murmur of the port.
"I don't know what to say to you but what I've already said. Persuade your captain to leave me here and you will make it home to England."
"What will happen if we take you with us?"
She shifted again, this time into the light of a nearby lantern. It outlined her form in rich gold hues, from the crown of her head to her worn boots. She could've been a piece of artwork had every pore of her not breathed life.
"Look," Called a drunk voice just returning to the ship. "There's the pirate's whore. Have you come to ply your trade to us humble sailors now?"
Someone shouted for the man's name to be taken down. Cora winced at the words.
"Please take me back to the brig," She said.
Stephen followed her back down, then lingered with her in her cell.
"We could help you if you would let us," He told her.
"I've asked for your help already. Leave me here in Georgetown. Forget me."
Stephen shook his head and was about to leave when one more question formed in his head.
"Why do you wear that bandana?"
She reached up to touch it, as if assuring herself it was still there, then smiled a sphinx's smile.
"To make you wonder."
Stephen shook his head again and bid her good night, then walked away, wondering in spite of himself.
"She's still said nothing to you. Nothing at all."
"You shouldn't be so surprised," Stephen said, wrist deep in a sailor's stomach. "Would you say something?"
"No."
"There you have it, then. These things take time. Good God, I do believe that every seaman I've opened up has had the worst liver known to medicine."
"For Christ's sake, Stephen, do you have to dissect him while I'm watching?"
"You don't have to watch."
Jack Aubreygrumbled something about a lack of fresh air in the orlop and went to take the deck again. Stephen retreated into his own private world, musing on just how he would pry Cora's orders from her if she was so aware of his mission. He briefly considered getting her drunk, but dismissed it asamateurish and undignified. The only other thought that came to mind was to befriend her,and then try and play on her innate dislike of her task- whatever it was.Ashe was stitching the sailor he'dfound in an alleyway in Georgetown back up again, he decided that was thebest course open to him, even if it would take time.
Satisfied with his decision, he sat back and took notes on the dissection, unwilling to leave his private world. Then the sound of eighteen pounds of metal ripping through wood somewhere close by tore him from it.
He froze, listening to the sound of lines snapping and men screaming, and barely had enough time to shove the corpse of the unfortunate sailor onto the floor before the wounded began to stream down.
The first one was his surgeon's mate, who'd been taking the air on the deck again. The man gasped wetly, retched blood, and then lay still. He too found the floor.
"Padeen!" Stephen called. "Padeen!" No answer.
The next man under his knife was Lord Blakeney.
"No amputations, Doctor." He hissed. Thankfully, the arm wasn't broken this time. He bandaged the bleeding cut as quickly as he could.
"Who are we fighting?" He managed to shout.
"It's the pirate again," Blakeney hissed. "The Running."
His thoughts flashed instantly to Cora. She will come for me.
The most dangerous place in nature, he'd found, was between a mother and her child.
One especially wounded landsman came to him then. His arm was out of his socket and looked to be broken close to the wrist.
"I need to put this back in place."
"Don't touch me!" He shrieked.
"Someone hold him down!"
As strangely as in a dream, Cora was at his side. Stephen didn't stop to ask how she got there or how she knew just what to do, but let her stand next to him and pin the man with all her strength as he gave the arm a swift jerk. His scream carried above the bellow of the cannons.
A parade of wounded followed. Cora never faltered at his side, although she paled at the sight of some of the more ghastly wounds. She took a deep breath every time and did whatever he told her. Then, just as before, the firing ceased. There was no accompanying clash of arms this time, though. The Surprise's cannon roared only once or twice more, and then they began to move faster.
Jack came down a few minutes later, as Stephen was finishing with the last of the wounded and beginning to clean up. Cora was sitting against a nearby wall, her eyes closed tight.
"She's slipped us again. She attacked us just enough to make us mad and then she fled. How much did she cost?"
"Six dead, twenty-four wounded."
Jack was about to comment when he noticed Cora rising.
"Who let you out?"
"Nobody. Some shot destroyed the door of the brig and I had to get out before more came through." She gave a brittle laugh. "It would hardly do to be killed by my own ship."
"Speaking of which, how did she know where we were? Is that why you wanted to get to port so badly? To betray us?"
"How would I have? The only person I've spoke to on this ship since I got here is Steph- the doctor. Ask him if he's betrayed you."
Jack forced all the air out through his nose.
"Your mother is a damn good sailor, I'll give you that. What I don't understand is what she's playing at."
Cora rubbed her eyes and then wrapped her arms around her waist, looking Jack dead in the eyes.
"She wants you to follow her."
"Why?"
Cora laughed again.
"God's my witness, I do not know. Not anymore."
Jack's great frame expelled a sigh, looking at the wounded men around him.
"Oh, Stephen, I'm terribly sorry, but Padeen was on deck with your mate- Mr. Adams. He was one of the first to fall when the shots came through."
Stephen took off his glasses, feeling a bolt of sorrow in his chest. A much more immediate concern reached him once the pang faded.
"It's going to be difficult to care for these men all on my own. Some of them will need operations within the next two days. Can you spare a man who isn't afraid of a little blood."
"We need all the men on deck. Our hull has been badly damaged and we need to keep up the chase." Jack went silent for a moment, lost in thought. "Miss Turner, how bad off is the brig?"
"The grating was torn off altogether, sir. It's about as secure as any other place on the ship now."
"Here is a compromise, then. Cora will stay with you in the orlop and do whatever it is that needs doing. I see she's already proven herself handy," He nodded at her bloody hands. She hid them behind her back, looking ashamed. "And then you will be able to insure that she does nothing untoward. Understood?"
"Aye, sir." Cora responded out of reflex. Stephen just nodded.
"Good. Then I take my leave."
Stephen and Cora stood in the orlop with nothing but the groans of wounded men and the creaking timbers above them to the fill the vacuum left by Jack's enormous presence. Sailors below manned the pumps to clear the hold of the water amassed there, and Cora moved to the small opening in the wall where the water sloshed through to clean the blood from her hands.
"I'm sorry," She whispered. "For the men that died here, I mean."
"It's not your fault that they died. You saved those that you could alongside myself."
She hesitated hearing this. She went to one of the wounded men nearby and gave him some water to drink.
"It doesn't make it right." She responded at last.
To this Stephen had no reply. They stood side by side, caring for the men as they could, easing some into their final resting place and fighting for the lives of others. Night deepened around them and at last the injured quieted.
They sat on the stairs,Cora drinking some grog and Stephen a bit of water. Suddenly,Cora gave a great yawn and stretched her arms above her head. At once it struck them- where would she sleep?
Stephen feared that awkwardness would stretch between them for some time yet. They sat there staring at one another, each feelings as if the other was a foreign beast, until a sailor came down with an extra hammock for Cora.
"I'll stay out here with the patients," She said, finding a place to sling it directly in front of the door to his cabin.
"Very well. Wake me if something happens. Good night."
"Good night."
Stephen retired to his tiny cabin and stripped to his breeches and shirt. He was about to slide into his hammock and write himself to sleep when he heard the soft sounds of Cora readying herself for bed. Without knowing why he did it or how to stop himself, he rose and went to the divider that sectioned off his room.
He was too late to see Cora before she slid under her blankets. Her bandana remained on, and he was left feeling somewhat sophomoric.
She is a prisoner. And you are her warden, not a lovesick adolescent.
He dreamt of her that night. He dreamt that they stood on deck of the Surprise, simply looking at each other. There were tears on her cheeks and in her grey-blue eyes. The crew was silent behind them. He turned back to see why the ship didn't hum with life, but no one was there. He looked back to where Cora stood, but she too was gone. He heard Jack's voice calling him from a distance and walked towards it, feeling an overwhelming sense of loss without not knowing why.
A/N-- Ooh, is Stephen's dream foreshadowing? Or am I just being weird? lol. Reviews por favor? Bitte? Please?(thanks once more to FuchsiaII, who is still my only reviewer.)
