19 January, 1767
CATRÌONA POV
I didn't sleep that night, and when I could finally will myself to get out of bed, I got dressed and made my way up to the deck, where I saw Jamie speaking with the first mate, likely about the cargo. I took a deep breath, swallowed my fear and then approached him cautiously from behind. "Jamie," I said. "Can we… talk a moment?"
"I'm a bit busy at the moment," he answered me, not looking at me as he went over a list. "We'll find out what happened te tha' missin' bottle of wine-"
"Jamie, please. It'll take five minutes," I said a bit sharply, and Jamie let out a huff.
"All right," he said irritably. "A moment, Mr. Warren." He turned to face me, a stern look on his face as he indicated I head down towards where the cabins were. At the bottom of the stairs, we stopped, and he crossed his arms across his chest. "What is it, then?"
"I just… wanted te apologise fer… makin' it sound like I didnae want our child," I told him rather meekly. "I'll always want yer children, Jamie, everra single one of them. It's just… I'm a wee bit afraid of… of havin' this one." I paused for a moment. "I nearly died havin' Maevis, Jamie. I… I saw my mother, saw the light… and I verra well could have gone straight into it, but I didnae, and I had that choice because modern medicine saved my life. But… But what if I dinnae have that option this time?" Jamie let out a soft sigh.
"Aye, I… suppose I should have thought of that," he said back to me, the stern look fading from his face and being replaced by an apologetic one. "I'm sorry, too. I should have at least listened te yer fears. But Catrìona, I cannae condone endin' the life of a child, especially mine."
"I know ye cannae, Jamie, and no matter how afraid I am, I… I cannae rid myself of yer child. I'd never go through with it," I told him. "I just cannae help bein' a bit… worried."
"I understand," he told me calmly, and then he held his arms out for me. "C'mere." I stepped away from the wall and into his arms, hugging him tightly as he kissed the top of my head. "Whatever's te happen, I'll be right here by yer side, through everrathin'."
"Will ye be there when it's born?" I asked him, looking up at him. "Ye've never been there fer any of them, through no fault of yer own, of course. I want ye there wi' me, in case I…"
"Dinnae say that. Ye will not die, not as long as my heart beats," he told me, touching my face gently, and then he bent down to kiss me. "I will be there wi' ye this time, I promise." He smiled at me, and I smiled back and kissed him again, then embraced him.
"Ye left me in the middle of the night wantin' more of ye," I told him quietly, glancing up at him, and he smiled and chuckled, then looked over my shoulder at a door behind me.
"In here," he said, grasping my arm and pulling me into what appeared to be a supply closet. He backed me into a pile of crates covered by a muslin cloth and then picked me up, sitting me on top of the crates as he kissed my face, my lips and my neck while throwing up my skirts.
"Oh, God, hurry up," I hissed at him, feeling beads of sweat already dripping down my face from the heat of the day. "It's so hot in here, I'm meltin'!"
"I'm meltin' wi' ye," he growled back to me, undoing his breeks, pulling them down and then entering me in one thrust. He let out a loud grunt as he did so, while I stifled mine by biting my lip, and as he began to thrust, he made a sound every time.
"Shh," I said, giggling like a schoolgirl as I caressed his face. "Someone's goin' te hear us."
"Let them," he growled again, capturing my lips and kissing me firmly as he made love to me against the crates. When he finished inside of me, the warmth of his seed spreading through me, we collapsed down onto the ground, Jamie's arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders and I resting my head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head, twirling a piece of my hair on his finger.
"When I… first woke up in Edinburgh, and decided te stay… I kent tha' we'd have te get used te each other again. I just didnae realise how difficult tha' would be, or… how much I'd changed. So much has happened te me since we parted at Pobull Fhinn," I said to him quietly. "I thought ye might see that and… realise that I'm no' worth lovin' anymore."
"Ye should have spoken wi' me sooner," he replied, looking down into my eyes. "No matter what troubles happen around us, Eileanach … This, what it is between us, never changes."
"No," I replied back. "It doesnae." I lifted my head so he could meet my lips and kiss me, and then he laid his head on my shoulder. After a moment, he picked it back up again and looked around, resting his palm against the wooden floor, and I raised an eyebrow at him. "Are ye all right? What is it?"
"We're no' movin'," he said to me, and I, too, lifted my head and sure enough, failed to hear the sound of the creaking ship hitting each wave.
"What the hell?" I asked. We exchanged a glance, then stood up, put ourselves back together and made our way up to the deck, where Archie, Manzetti, Mr. Warren, and several other sailors were standing around each other in a mild panic.
"Cannae explain it, Captain. We're on course!" Mr. Warren said to Captain Raines, who seemed frustrated with what had happened.
"Ye've cursed us, Manzetti. Shouldnae have mentioned the doldrums," Archie teased Manzetti, who became alarmed along with several other sailors.
"Ye did no such thing, Manzetti! Is it true?" one of the sailors exclaimed, and Manzetti seemed to shy away from the group as he answered them meekly.
"I only mentioned it to the lad! I never thought it was real !" Manzetti exclaimed in his defence.
"Captain, why arenae we movin'?" Jamie interjected, directing his attention to Captain Raines.
"We've lost the wind, Mr. Fraser," said Captain Raines irritably.
"No wind at sea," I chimed in, glancing up at the sails, which were stiff and motionless. "Never thought I'd see such a thing."
"What's goin' on? We're no' movin'," Caoimhe said suddenly, appearing at my side.
"Is it common te lose wind in these latitudes?" Jamie asked Captain Raines.
"No wind?" came Marsali's voice, a bit alarmed. "But we're in the middle of the sea! How can there be no wind?"
"Marsali, mon chérie, do not worry," Fergus said to her, resting his hands on her shoulders.
"Dinnae worry? There's no land in sight and we've lost the wind! How do ye expect me te not worry?" Marsali demanded from him.
"It's bad luck, it is!" cried one of the sailors.
"Aye, someone's brought this upon us by neglect!" Mr. Warren exclaimed, which started an uproar of concern.
"Everraone, calm down!" I shouted, silencing the rabble. "Everraone just calm down , fer Bride's sake! This is likely only a temporary thing!"
"Aye, normally when the wind stills on the Isle, it's a storm comin'," Archie chimed in.
"Archie!" I exclaimed as the panic ensued.
"A storm! Fergus, what if the ship sinks?" Marsali exclaimed with worry.
"Okay, okay!" I shouted again, silencing the crowd once more. "Captain Raines, what's yer opinion of this? Yer the Captain of this ship, I imagine ye've experienced somethin' like this before?"
"It's a bit unusual fer the season, but… there's no cause fer concern," Captain Raines told us all, and there was a low rumble of discontent.
"I say it's the Chinaman!" shouted an English voice rather loudly, belonging to Baxley.
"'Tis not him!" said an Irishman called Bailey. "Saw the Chinee touch the horseshoe meself."
"Well, why dinnae we just line up and touch the horseshoe now?" said Caoimhe, a mildly nervous look on her face as she made her way to the horseshoe and laid her hand on it. "Tha' way, we can make sure tha' everraone touches it and there's no bad luck?"
"Too late fer tha'. It must be done at the beginnin' of a voyage," Mr. Warren told her.
"Fear not, men - and ladies. The wind will return, so we must endeavor te be ready when it does," said Captain Raines. "Swab the deck fer now, and make this ship spotless. Ye'll have nothin' else te do until the winds return. I dinnae want te see a speck of dirt!"
"Aye, Captain," said Mr. Warren as Captain Raines went back into his quarters. "Ye heard the Captain, men. Get te it!" As the men scattered, our family gathered closer together, all of us with a slightly uneasy look on our faces.
"Who kens when the winds will return? It could be days, weeks even," said Archie a bit dismally.
"Aye, wi' that attitude, perhaps," I chimed in.
"I hope no'," said Jamie. "We were already six weeks behind the Bruja when we left France. A few more weeks' delay could mean Ian is lost te us forever."
"It's the ocean. The winds will return and we'll be on our way soon," I told him, crossing my arms across my chest.
"But what if Archie's right aboot a storm?" asked Marsali uneasily. "There's no escape. We'd drown out here."
"Marsali, there is no need to fear," Fergus told her.
"Aye, there's many anomalies at sea," Caoimhe told her. "When the winds die down and the sea goes calm before a storm, it's on an isle, and it can be a wee bit harder te see the storm comin'. Here, at least, I imagine we'll see the clouds well before there's any danger."
"Not like that'll make a difference. We'd still be sittin' ducks," said Archie.
"Yer not doin' anythin' fer my nerves, either of ye!" Marsali snapped at them.
"There will be no storm," I told the younger generation. "Look above us, and at the horizon at all sides - there's no clouds te be had! And the clouds are moved by the wind, so when the clouds do return, so will the wind, and we'll be well out of the way of any storm tha's te come."
"Yes, so you see? It is best not to worry, mon chérie ," Fergus told Marsali, who huffed.
"I should have never let ye talk me into this, Fergus. I should have stayed hame where I dinnae have te be on this giant floatin' tree branch!" she snapped irritably.
"Aye, ye shouldnae have. I told ye it was a dangerous journey," Jamie told her firmly. "It makes me glad we didnae let Brèagha convince us te take her along."
"Bree would be losin' her mind, she would, trapped here in the middle of the sea," said Archie.
"So we are trapped?" Marsali asked, her eyes wide with fear and worry.
"Marsali, why dinnae ye come wi' me, hen? I've got somethin' that'll settle yer mind," I told her, ushering her to come with me, but she sent me a filthy glare.
"I'll do no such thing, ye damned witch! Ye'll no' be givin' me yer potions!" she snapped at me.
"Marsali!" Jamie scolded her sharply.
"I thought I told ye te watch what ye say te my mother!" Archie snapped at her angrily.
"Archie, settle down!" Jamie snapped at his son.
"Auntie's 'potions' - and they're no' potions, they're regular herbs that yer mother has likely given ye - have cured the sailors of many ailments in the last month!" Caoimhe snapped at Marsali in my defence.
"All of ye, hush up," I told them. "Times are tense, I understand tha', but ye dinnae need te get all riled up! The more ye panic, the more stressed ye'll be. We just have te keep our heads, or we'll all lose them."
"Sorry, Mama," Archie said apologetically to me, but he still glared at Marsali.
"Fergus, why dinnae ye take Marsali back te her cabin? I'll prepare a tincture fer her nerves," I said to Fergus.
"I'm right here, ye ken, and I'll no' be drinkin' anythin' tha' yer hand's touched!" Marsali snapped at me in a panicked haze.
"Come, mon chérie ," said Fergus, taking Marsali by the arm and leading her away.
"I'll no' do it, Fergus. She'll poison me, curse me, cast a spell on me!" I heard Marsali snap at him as Fergus led her away.
"Milady would do no such thing, Marsali," Fergus told her, leading her down into the cabins.
"Seems she's gone a wee bit stir crazy," said Caoimhe.
"She's frightened. I imagine the lass hasnae really experienced much of the sea," I told her. "It's a verra different world, the country and the sea."
"I cannae imagine myself livin' anywhere but by the sea," said Caoimhe with a soft sigh. "I should have just touched the damned horseshoe."
"You not touchin' the horseshoe has nothin' te do wi' this," I told her. "Trust me, yer uncle and I have had rotten luck all our lives. This is no surprise, is it, Jamie?"
"Aye, I suppose no'," said Jamie with a soft sigh.
"I'd better go and prepare Marsali's tea," I said, and then I went down into the hold, where my infirmary was, to prepare the tea.
23 January, 1767
ARCHIE POV
It had been days now, and the winds still hadn't returned. Archie sat up in the crow's nest with a spyglass looking out at the horizon to see if there was anything - another ship also trapped in the doldrums, clouds in the distance indicating a storm, or anything else. Far away, maybe five degrees north of them in latitude, dark clouds could be seen, but they didn't appear to be moving towards them at all. Archie lowered his spyglass and let out a sigh, leaning against the edge of the bucket of the crow's nest and staring out at that faint dark line.
"What are ye doin', Cousin?" Archie jumped a little and nearly dropped his spyglass over the edge of the crow's nest, then turned around to see Caoimhe's head popping up over the other side.
"Caoimhe? What the hell are ye doin' up here? Get in here before ye fall!" Archie exclaimed, helping her into the bucket and widening his eyes at her clothes. Was she wearing breeks ? "What the hell are ye wearin'?"
"Breeks. I made 'em myself. They're so much more versatile, especially fer climbin' te such heights. Men cannae look up my skirts," she said playfully.
"They're really no' appropriate fer a lass. Ye can see all of yer curves! Yer father would lose his mind if he saw ye in these," Archie said to her, but she scoffed.
"Oh, why's everraone who wears breeks regularly have te give their opinion when a woman wears them?" she asked. "Now, as I've asked once already, what are ye doin'?"
"I was lookin' te see how far the doldrums extend," Archie told her, turning his attention back to where he had seen the clouds. "Quite far out north of us, there's clouds, but they're movin' north, no' south."
"So there's wind that way? Can we no' just head out tha' way?" Caoimhe asked him curiously.
"How? We dinnae have any wind here," Archie asked her.
"Oars, ye fool. I imagine we can make some from the wooden crates in the hold," she answered him.
"They wouldnae be strong enough te move the whole ship, and ye'd need more than two," Archie replied.
"Oh, aye? No shit, huh?" she asked him, and he rolled his eyes. "I'm no' as naive as ye think I am, Archie. I'm a learned lass. I've read Shakespeare enough times te recite them from memory."
"It's not enough te be learned in books, Caoimhe. Ye must be learned in the world as well," Archie told her.
"Aye? And how do ye expect a lass te do tha' when there's men like ye who look at a lass and think her incompetent?" Caoimhe asked him.
"I never said I thought ye incompetent," Archie began, but she interrupted him.
"No, but ye think me naive and foolish. I hear it in yer tone of voice. With Auntie Cat fer a mother, it amazes me tha' yer even capable of thinkin' such things aboot a woman," Caoimhe told him a bit sharply.
"I think ye naive because ye've no' been out in the world much, save fer this ship, and I think ye foolish because ye do reckless things and act like ye have the knowledge of the world," Archie told her. "It's no' because yer a woman. Ye challenge people who could kill ye, Caoimhe, and ye do foolish things such as wearin' breeks and travellin' from Barra te France and hidin' in a bleedin' barrel te stow away onto a ship."
"Well, then I'm not so naive anymore, am I? Foolish, fine, but no' naive. Ye dinnae ken what I've experienced. Ye've hardly been back te Barra since ye went te join yer father in England," Caoimhe told him, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning against the wall of the bucket.
"Has somethin' happened te ye that I dinnae ken aboot?" Archie asked her curiously, and she didn't answer him. Instead, she turned her head and looked out at the horizon. There was a very soft breeze in the air, but not one nearly strong enough to carry the ship, but it did move her blonde hair just a little.
"I've always wanted te be a bird," she said. "They can fly high, go wherever they want, dinnae have te experience the judgement of men."
"But then there's mad lassies like you who catch them and try te use them te fly," said Archie, chuckling a little, and Caoimhe smiled and shook her head.
"I admit, tha' was silly," she replied. "Still, it'd be so freein' te be a bird, wouldnae it?"
"They're no' so intelligent, though," said Archie. "Birds arenae learned in Shakespeare."
"Well, then I guess I'd be the first," said Caoimhe in a playful tone. "God, I hope we get the winds back soon. I do love the sea, but I miss the land, and I miss seein' the birds and hearin' the waves crash on the stones."
"Ye can have all that again when we return ye te Barra," said Archie, and Caoimhe's smile faded a little.
"Aye," she said, a bit melancholic. "Back home, where I'll spend the rest of my life as some man's wife bearin' God kens how many children and then die young. Sounds like a dream."
CATRÌONA POV
When I returned to my cabin after spending the day in the infirmary, I found it empty, so I went looking for Jamie up on the deck. I found him leaning against the bulkhead looking up at the clear sky up above us, a quarter moon illuminating him. I smiled to myself, then climbed the stairs to the upper deck. He heard my footsteps and turned his head to look at me as I embraced him and kissed his cheek. "Is it really just you and me?" I asked him, and he smiled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
"Aye," he said, kissing me. "You and me, and the man in the moon." He kissed me again, then turned me so that my back was against his chest and wrapped his arms around me, kissing my cheek again.
"Aye, it's a bonny sight up there," I said. "Ye ken, it'll be a Scotsman who takes the first steps up there, aboot… two hundred years from now."
"A Scotsman, aye?" Jamie asked me, and I nodded.
"His name will be Neil Armstrong," I replied. "Well, no' really a Scotsman. He'll be from America and he'll do it fer America, but it'll be a Scottish name associated wi' tha' fer all of time." Jamie chuckled warmly, then bent his head to kiss my neck again as his hand ran over the slight curve of my belly.
"Would ye look at tha'," he said. "I can feel the bairn already."
"No ye cannae," I said with a laugh, covering his hand with mine. "It's much too early."
"Is it? Ye'll be verra nearly three months gone, no?" he asked me, and I shrugged.
"This bairn could have been conceived at any point between November and early December," I told him. "It's hard te say. My period has always been irregular. I'm most definitely two months, at least, but… if it is closer te when we first laid together, I suppose I could be close te three months."
"I do feel a wee bump where there wasnae one," he replied. "We'll be together fer this one, always. No leavin' it behind or givin' it te yer brother fer safety. This bairn is ours , and we will raise it together until it is grown and leaves us."
"We'll no' have much time fer us," I said.
"There will always be time fer us," he replied.
"I cannae help but… be afraid I'll be an awful mother. I mean… the longest I've ever had a child wi' me was seven years. I've just realised that I had Maevis fer as long as I had Archie… Seven years. I never saw any of them as teenagers."
"Yer no' missin' much," Jamie replied with a soft chuckle. "Archie was trouble. No' too mischevious, but he verra nearly could have gotten himself into trouble. And Brèagha despised me, wouldnae listen te me."
"I would have liked te see it at least," I said, resting both of my hands on my belly. "Ye cannae hear me yet, my bairn, but yer father is here te witness this. I will never leave ye, no matter what happens. I will see yer raised right, and by me , and yer father. No one else. War, nor redcoats, nor anythin' else can tear us apart. I promise ye this, now and forever."
"Aye, and I do as well," Jamie chimed in, covering my other hand with his so that one of his hands, covered by mine, and one of mine, covered by his, touched my belly.
"We'll be the best parents together, I think," I told him. "The parents we should have been te Archie, Brèagha and Maevis. I wish we could have been better."
"Aye, I wish the same," said Jamie with a soft sigh.
"We will be now, at least te Brèagha and Archie. Soon as we're back in Scotland," I said, and then I let out a soft sigh, looking back up at the moon. "If only Maevis could be here… She and I used te love goin' out late at night te look up at the moon. She used te have this chart where she had all of the information aboot the moon phases and how it affected people and plants and the like…"
"Ye miss her," Jamie said, kissing my cheek where a tear had fallen from my eye.
"Terribly," I whispered, leaning back into Jamie's arms as we both stared up at the quarter moon, both of us deep in thoughts of our lost daughter.
30 June, 2154
Maidie's Flat, Edinburgh, Scotland
MAEVIS POV
The quarter moon was bright and brilliant over the city of Edinburgh, and it was the only thing visible with the city lights blocking out the stars. Maevis let out a soft sigh, thinking of when she was younger and she and her mother would stand outside of their home on Barra and look up at the moon. Her phone buzzed, and she drew her attention away from the moon to her phone, where a text message from Elton popped up.
Booked an Airbnb in Stornoway for us. It's £50 a night so if you could send me £50 or pay for the tickets to Stornoway, I'd appreciate it.
Together, the two Fowlis twins were planning on going to Stornoway to the museum that had an exhibit on the paintings of B. Fraser, and Maevis was looking forward to seeing and learning a little bit more about her sister.
Sure. I'll get the train, bus and ferry tickets. Meet you in Perth tomorrow at around 9. Train leaves here at 8.
Brill. See you then.
The train would take four hours to arrive in Inverness, and then they would catch a bus to Ullapool where they would then catch a ferry to Stornoway, where the museum was located. The museum was the Lady Ashburton Museum of Art, dedicated to Louisa Baring, Lady Ashburton, who was an art collector from Stornoway in the Victorian era. She had, evidently, purchased a lot of the works by B. Fraser, and when she died and her collection had been sold to other dealers in London, Stornoway reached out for most of the B. Fraser works, wanting to keep them in the isles. The museum had a few works that she had collected in addition to B. Fraser, but of course, Elton and Maevis only cared about their sister's work.
When they arrived in Stornoway, it was already nearly closing time at the museum, so the siblings got settled in their Airbnb and got dinner from a local restaurant. Early the next morning, they went to the museum, finding themselves both in awe of the vast collection of work by B. Fraser.
"In here is work by the Hebridean artist kent as B. Fraser. She was a painter from the Isle of Barra, though no' much is kent aboot her beyond where she was from and what she looked like," the curator of the exhibit announced to a tour group that was going through the exhibit, and she pointed out the portrait that Maevis had seen on Tom's PowerPoint. It was much bigger in person, and Brèagha stood next to an easel with a paintbrush in her hand, appearing to look into a mirror as she painted her portrait. "This was painted in 1767, when Miss Fraser would have likely been in her twenties, judgin' by her appearance in the painting. It seemed as if one of her favourite subjects te paint was the landscape, and second te tha' was this red-headed young man." She next pointed to the painting that Maevis had seen of Archie, and then noticed that there were actually several paintings depicting Archie at various ages. "Art historians suspect tha' he was a lover of hers." Maevis couldn't help but snort quietly.
"More like her brother, but sure," she said quietly.
"However, the paintings found in Kisimul Castle ceased after the year 1770. We dinnae ken if Miss Fraser died, was married and left, or painted under a new name. There has been no B. Fraser found in any documentation - at least that I ken of - indicatin' that she lived at the castle, save fer these paintin's," said the curator.
"But there are," Maevis interjected, drawing the crowd's attention to her, and Elton's eyes widened a little. "Oh, I… I've been doing some research. I love B. Fraser's work. Apparently not all that long ago, a hidden room was found in the Laird's bedchamber in the castle and inside of it was a family bible. I looked through it thinking I might find something interesting and was surprised to see a Brèagha Fraser being listed as having been born in November of 1746."
"A Brèagha Fraser?" asked the tour guide with wide eyes. "Why, that would be remarkable if tha's true! Where did ye find this document?"
"The National Archives," Maevis answered her. "It's faint, but her name is there."
"Brèagha Fraser," said the curator with awe, looking up at the self portrait of Brèagha. "Four hundred years and we never kent this bonny artist's name…"
"Are ye makin' this up?" Elton asked her in a hushed whisper.
"No, it's true. It's how I found out she was born in November aboot seven months after Culloden," Maevis whispered back to him. When the curator left to make some calls to the National Archives about confirming Maevis's claim, Maevis went around and looked at some of the other portraits. There was one of a gruff-looking brown-haired man titled 'Ronald' at the bottom, and another of a fair-haired young girl holding a red-haired infant on her lap. The fair-haired girl had beautiful silvery eyes, quite a lot like Mama, and the red-haired infant had the prettiest green eyes Maevis had ever seen. Next to that portrait was one of a brown-haired young man with a brown-haired woman, evidently a couple, according to the pose. The placard next to it said:
CILLIAN FOWLIS AND HIS WIFE, MAGDALENA
c. 1766
Cillian Fowlis, the Ninth Laird of Kisimul, pictured with his wife, Magdalena, who was pregnant with the pair's first child, Gilda. This was the official wedding portrait of Fowlis and his wife.
It was the next portrait that caught Maevis's eye next - it was of a beautiful fair-haired woman with brilliant green eyes and a beautiful smile on her face. Her hand was resting over her swollen belly and she seemed very happy in her portrait. She looked very similar to the fair-haired girl in the other portrait, so the red-haired infant must have been the child she carried in her belly. What had happened to this beautiful woman? Maevis's eyes glanced at the placard next to it:
PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN WOMAN
c. 1767
This woman is speculated to be the wife of Cailean Fowlis, Eighth Laird of Kisimul, and the mother to Cillian Fowlis. There are no records listing the name of Cailean Fowlis's wife, but there are letters indicating that her name may have been Sorcha, or something similar. She died in childbirth shortly after this portrait was painted.
"Sorcha," Maevis muttered, pronouncing it like 'sore-cha'.
"Sor-a-ka," Elton corrected her, standing beside her. "It's like the Gaelic form of 'Sarah', I think. I dinnae really speak much of it, but I ken a word or two."
"I don't think that's her name. It doesn't look like it fits her," said Maevis, crossing her arms across her chest.
"She's been dead fer four hundred years. I dinnae think she cares what ye call her," Elton said to her, and she huffed a little.
"Elton," Maevis said, lowering her voice. "Tha's our aunt. She married our Uncle Cailean."
"Ye ken, I'm still havin' a tough time believin' tha'," Elton replied, equally quietly.
"Well, believe it or don't, but it's the truth," Maevis replied, and then she glanced back around the room at other paintings done by their sister. "I wonder why Brèagha stopped painting in 1770… "
20 February, 1767
The Artemis
CATRÌONA POV
What became days of no wind turned into weeks, and without the wind, there was little relief from the heat. We began lowering the rowboat down to get a little bit of relief from the sea, which was also warm, but still cooler than the air, but with the blazing heat and lack of cloud cover, the water evaporated off of our skin quickly. With the lack of rain, we began to run low on fresh water, and some sailors began drinking the saltwater from the sea. This was especially bad because they started to hallucinate from all of the salt they ingested, which made those who had yet to drink water from the sea anxious and fearful that an illness was among them. Soon, it turned into mass hysteria.
"Damn it, the water supply's gone!" cried out Mr. Warren. "Bilge water's gotten into it!"
"Ye've got te be mad!" Archie exclaimed as he opened up another barrel of water, gagging at the foul stench that began to emit from it. "Christ! Everra one's run afoul and stinkin'!"
"Dinnae touch it, it'll be filled wi' disease," I said, taking the cover from Archie and putting it back on the barrel. "Blessed Bride."
"Salvage what ye can, perhaps the top row's been spared," Jamie said to Mr. Warren and the few men that were with him.
"Perhaps we can boil the rest, but it'll have te be a hell of a lot of boilin'," I chimed in, sighing heavily as we watched the men and Archie going through the barrels. "We'll have te pray fer rain."
"Do any of yer pagan gods or goddesses provide rain?" Jamie asked me quietly.
"There's a god of thunder, but I dinnae ken if we're under his jurisdiction," I said with light sarcasm.
"Perhaps a god of the sea then," Jamie said. "Maybe he can give us wind, at the verra least."
"We'll go te half rations fer the men as well," I heard Captain Raines say, who had come down to inspect the water, and the men groaned in frustration.
"I've a better idea," said the Irishman Bailey. "We find the Jonah who's brought us ill luck and we throw him overboard!"
"Aye," said the other men in agreement.
"Get back te checkin' the barrels, men," Captain Raines ordered them. After they had checked the barrels, it was determined that only five were salvageable, and the cook got to work boiling the other ones. "Five unspoiled barrels."
"It willnae be enough," said Jamie with a defeated tone.
"Well, dinnae give up hope yet. There were clouds closer than they had ever been these last few weeks," I said, and Captain Raines let out a sigh.
"Losin' the wind happens, of course. Cannae do much aboot tha' but wait fer it's return, but no' without water or ale," he said, and then he glanced up at Jamie. "So who should we blame?"
"Blame?" Jamie asked him, raising a single red bushy brow.
"There's no one te blame. The bilge water spoiled the barrels. It's no one's fault," I said to him.
"Said nothin' of fault, madam. I asked who we should blame," said Captain Raines, looking at the incredulous looks on our faces. "Come now. We've been weeks without wind."
"What's yer meanin', sir?" Jamie asked him cautiously.
"The men are callin' fer a Jonah," said Captain Raines, and I raised my eyebrows at this.
"Ye mean te say the men want someone te throw overboard?" I asked him. "And ye'll let them?"
"I may not be able te stop them," Captain Raines replied.
"No. Tha's insanity," I said with a scoff.
"I've only so much at my disposal te keep order. This isnae a Royal Navy vessel, madam. I cannae flog the men if they disregard my authority. They must believe that I'm doin' all I can on their behalf, else we'll have a mutiny on our hands," Captain Raines replied.
"Well, ye'll no' be throwin' any of my men overboard, Captain. Nor will ye be throwin' any of my family over," Jamie told him with a slightly threatening tone.
"I think it best if we dinnae throw anyone over," I said.
"Dinnae be naive, Mistress Fraser. We must come up with a solution, and quickly," Captain Raines told us, and then he left the two of us alone.
CAOIMHE POV
A bit anxious, Caoimhe was down in the kitchens helping to boil water with a few of the men, who were discussing who they believed to be the cause of their ill luck. "I saw the frog's lassie touch the horseshoe," said one of them.
"Aye, as did I, and the frog did as well," another replied.
"What of the wee stowaway, aye?" asked one of the sailors, glancing up in Caoimhe's direction.
"What?" Caoimhe asked, noticing that all of them were looking at her. "Of course I did. I'm no fool." Well, she did touch it, albeit not at the start of the journey.
"Hmph," said the third. "Well, I saw all those accompanyin' the supercargo touch it too, save fer one."
"Then the Jonah should be afeared. He'll no' be long fer this world," the second answered him. Suddenly, a muffled shout could be heard from up on the deck, and the three sailors glanced up at the door.
"Aye, and there he goes!" said the first sailor, and the three of them jumped up and ran out of the door to join the shouting on the deck.
"Shit," Caoimhe muttered under her breath, dropping her bucket of bilgey water, picking up her skirts and running up to the deck. A crowd had already formed, and Caoimhe joined Marsali and Fergus as they stared upward in fear at someone on the batten above them. "What's goin' on?"
"One of the men did not touch the horseshoe," said Fergus, directing Caoimhe's attention to the man on the mast - it was Hayes, one of Uncle Jamie's men.
"They arenae even sure," said Marsali rather quietly. "They're out fer blood."
"Jump, you stupid dog-faced Scot!" shouted one of the sailors.
"Over the side wi' him!"
"Rid us of this curse!"
"Leave me be, ye bastards!" Hayes shouted back down at them.
"Jump!"
"Prepare te meet yer maker!"
"Oh, God, what'll Uncle Jamie do?" Caoimhe asked them quietly. "How did he even get up there?"
"He scurried up like a mouse to escape the sailors," Fergus answered her, and then he lightly gasped. "Is that Archie? Or Milord?" Caoimhe looked up at the batten, where a red-haired man had joined Hayes on the batten holding an outstretched hand to him.
"Get back! " Uncle Jamie's voice suddenly roared from the crowd, urging the men to move away from the mast, and then he turned and looked up at the batten, his eyes widening when he realised it was his son up there. "Archie!"
"Come on, man, take my hand!" Archie shouted, having to raise his voice to be heard over the crowd.
"Are ye mad, Mac Ruadh ? They'll cut my throat!" Hayes replied back to him. "If I'm te die, then I'll die by my own hand!"
"No, man, but you are! Ye havenae cursed us, Hayes!" Archie shouted back.
"Even so, we'll run out of water in days and die!" Hayes snapped at him, holding onto the batten for dear life.
"No, we willnae! I promise ye!" Archie begged him, but it seemed that Hayes was too in a panic to comply.
"Jump, Jonah!" shouted one of the sailors.
"Aye! It's either ye, are all of us!" shouted another.
"Oh, te hell wi' all of ye, ye blood-thirsty cretins!" came Auntie Cat's sharp voice cutting through the noise.
"Get back, Mac Ruadh . I have te do this!" Hayes shouted to Archie.
"Like hell ye do! Yer no' goin' te jump, man!" Archie said to him as Uncle Jamie began to climb the mast as well to join his son.
"Hayes!" he said. "Dinnae listen te them! Remember at Ardsmuir, when it was us against them. It is so now!" Uncle Jamie said to him, but Hayes only shook his head in a panic.
"Jump! Just jump, already!"
"The whales are waitin' fer ye, Jonah!"
"If ye jump, then we'll be in right after ye!" Archie said to Hayes rather urgently.
"Aye, and if my husband and my son go in after ye, they'll be hell te pay both in the sea and on this ship!" Auntie Cat called up to them.
"Let him jump, damn it!" shouted one of the sailors.
"Oh, enough out of ye!" Auntie Cat snapped at the man.
"Jonah! Jonah! Jonah!" the men started to chant, and Hayes could be heard letting out a cry as he tried to stand up on the batten and face the sea.
"Hayes!" Uncle Jamie and Archie shouted together over the cries of 'Jonah', and then they were all silenced by the sudden ringing of the ship's bell. Everyone froze and looked up to see Mr. Willoughby standing there beside the bell, a calm, peaceful look on his face and a stack of papers in his hand.
"Spare us, Chinaman!" spat one of the sailors, and Mr. Willoughby seemed to ignore him.
"I was born Yi Tien Cho in Guangzhou, the city of rams," Mr. Willoughby said, his voice carrying across the ship.
"Keep te yerself, Chinaman!" snapped another sailor, who Mr. Willoughby also ignored.
"I was found early to have skill in composition - to make images of my brush resemble ideas that dance like cranes within my mind," said Mr. Willoughby, continuing on. "I became known as fung-wong … a bird of fire."
"Wha's he on aboot?" Marsali quietly asked Fergus and Caoimhe, and Caoimhe smiled as she watched Mr. Willoughby's performance.
"His poems," said Caoimhe quietly as Auntie Cat joined them, curiously looking on at Mr. Willoughby.
"My poetry came before eyes of Wan-Mei, the emperor's second wife," Mr. Willoughby continued. "She ask me to join her house in Pekin - Imperial City."
"Mr. Willoughby, stand down," said Captain Raines.
"Let the man speak, will ye?" Auntie Cat snapped at him.
"It was great honour," Mr. Willoughby continued, seemingly addressing the sky rather than the men. "My name is inscribed in Book of Merit. But there is one important condition. All servants of royal wives must become eunuchs."
"Wha's a 'eunuch'?" Marsali asked quietly.
"I'll tell ye later," Auntie Cat answered her.
"I think it's when a man gets his bollocks cut off," Caoimhe told her, and Auntie Cat hissed at her to be quiet, while Fergus gave a rather horrified look.
"It was most dishonourable to refuse emperor's gift. It was a death sentence, and yet, I had fallen in love…" said Mr. Willoughby, pausing for dramatic effect.
"Wi' the emperor's wife?" asked one of the sailors, and Mr. Willoughby shook his head.
"With woman. All woman," he answered. "Beauty blooming like lotus flowers, taste of breasts like apricots… The scent of a navel in winter, the warmth of a mound fills your hand like ripe peach." Some of the men made noises of agreement, while Marsali, Caoimhe and Auntie Cat wore mild looks of disgust on their faces. "I fled on the Night of the Lanterns, when streets are crowded and guards distracted. As fireworks shot from palace roof, I left my house. I disguise myself as traveller, and was nearly caught when they saw my fingernails." He showed them his fingernails, which were unusually long. "They are fingernails of a Mandarin. Soon, I manage to escape and I destroy my fingernails, then stow away on ship destined for far away land, farthest from China. I come to a place where golden words of my poems are taken as clucking of hens, and my brushstrokes for their scratches. For love of woman, I am come to a place where woman is not worthy of love, to a place where woman is coarse and rank as bears, creatures of no grace."
"Does he forget there's women of the land he speaks of here?" Marsali asked quietly, slightly offended.
"He speaks of whoores, hen," Auntie Cat told her.
"Then I suppose he's partially right," said Marsali, and Auntie Cat narrowed her eyes at her.
"And these woman disdain me as a yellow worm, so that even lowest of whores will not lie with me," said Mr. Willoughby. "By not surrendering my manhood, I have lost all else. Honour… Livelihood… Country. Sometimes, I think… 'Not worth it.'" Suddenly, he threw up his papers, and as if by magic, they suddenly caught the wind, fluttering away in the breeze. The sails puffed up and overhead, there was a small rumble of thunder, and then it began to rain down upon the ship as the wind began to carry it once more. The men cheered and began to dance in the rain, some of them getting to work rigging the sails.
"We have wind!" shouted Captain Raines. "Man the sheets, lads! Aloft, topmen! Lay out and loose the fore topsail! Man halyards and sheets!"
"Hold the wind!" shouted one of the sailors. " All of the wind!"
"Christ! It's a miracle!" Marsali exclaimed, holding her hands palm up and sticking her tongue out to catch the rain. Soaked to the bone and happy about it, Caoimhe made her way to Mr. Willoughby.
"How did ye ken, Mr. Willoughby?" she asked him.
"Yi Tien Cho," Mr. Willoughby - or rather, Yi Tien Cho - corrected her. "When seon tin jung fly high, it mean the air light, Xiuying . Dry, no rain. When they fly low, it mean air is heavy. Rain come, and with rain come wind."
"When the what?" Caoimhe asked, looking to where Yi Tien Cho was pointing, and she saw, close to the surface of the sea, little white birds hovering above the ocean. "Albatross," she said with a soft smile. She glanced up again as Hayes, Archie and Uncle Jamie came down from the batten, careful not to slip on the wet wood. With joy, Auntie Cat threw her arms around Uncle Jamie and kissed him, then embraced Archie as they celebrated the rain and wind. It truly was a joyous day, as death by dehydration would not be coming to the Artemis today.
22 February, 1767
JAMIE POV
The sound of a cannon's boom echoed off in the distance, and Jamie came out of the hold to look and see what it was about. Off in the distance, there was a large ship with many sails, and Captain Raines was looking at it through his spyglass. "What is it, Captain?" Jamie asked him.
"British Man-o-War," Captain Raines answered him, lowering his spyglass. "Been on our stern fer more than five hours how, and closin'." Another cannon blast, and the smoke of the cannon could be seen on the ship, which flew the Union Jack from its mast.
"They're firin' at us," Jamie said with mild alarm.
"No, signallin'," said Captain Raines. "They mean te board us." He handed Jamie the spyglass and he put it to his eye to look at the ship in the distance. "Ye can see from her riggin' they're short-handed. They may need men. Ye ken they have the right te enlist any British subject they choose, whether they're wi' the service or no'. That's over half the men, includin' you and yer lad."
"Aye," said Jamie a bit uneasily, lowering the spyglass. That meant that Fergus, Marsali, Catrìona and Caoimhe were safe, but he and Archie, as well as all of his men and quite literally any of Captain Raines's men, could be forced into service.
"Return the salute and heave to," Captain Raines ordered Mr. Warren.
"Aye, Captain," Mr. Warren replied, and then he turned to look down at the men. "Return the salute! Heave tip te windward!" Jamie kept his eye on the ship. If he was pressed into service, how would he be able to find Young Ian?
