22 February, 1767
The Artemis
CATRÌONA POV
"Catrìona," I heard Jamie say, joining me in the infirmary as I crushed up more dried herbs, and I glanced up at him from my work. "There's a ship havin' been spotted, an English Man-o-War. Captain Raines believes they're short-handed, and they may press some of the men te service."
"What? They cannae do that," I said incredulously. "Can they?"
"Aye, they can, te any man of British citizenship," Jamie replied, and I scoffed.
"Whether we're willin' te be a British citizen or no'," I said. "They'd better not press ye, or my son."
"They verra well might, and if they do, Catrìona, I need ye te promise me somethin'," Jamie told me. "I need ye te promise me ye'll continue onto Jamaica and find Young Ian."
"How long would they press ye fer?" I asked him.
"I dinnae ken. Catrìona, please. Promise me," he asked again, and I let out a huff.
"Fine, I promise ye, but I'll be no good at it without ye. I dinnae ken anythin' aboot the Indies save fer a lot of Spanish," I told him. "And I've lost much of my Spanish over the years."
"Ye'll do fine. I ken ye will. Ye managed te find me traversin' the Highlands while burstin' wi' child," Jamie replied with a smile.
"Prepare te be boarded!" I heard a muffled cry from the deck.
"Best I go up there," Jamie said, glancing in the same general direction.
"I'll go wi' ye. Let them try te poach ye," I said, pulling off my apron to reveal my growing belly. I easily must have been somewhere between three and four months, but judging on my size, I would have to guess four. God, I hoped it wasn't twins again, having to deliver Brian right after Archie was painful and exhausting. Jamie and I then went up to the deck together, where Captain Raines was speaking to an English sailor wearing a captain's hat.
"A pleasure to meet you, Captain Raines. I am Captain Thomas Leonard of His Majesty's ship, the Porpoise ," the English captain, Captain Leonard, was saying to Captain Raines as we arrived.
"Yer the Captain?" Captain Raines asked him, glancing at this rather young man curiously and taking note of the symbols on his coat.
"Er… Acting Captain, formerly Third Lieutenant," said Leonard, and Captain Raines scoffed.
"Ye've barely worn yer stripes in, lad," said Captain Raines, and Leonard seemed to stamp his foot in annoyance, almost.
"I am the most senior officer left alive on my ship, Captain, and I demand respect as an officer of the Royal Navy," Leonard snapped at him. "Now for the love of God, have you a surgeon on board?" I could see Jamie out of the corner of my eye turn his head as if to tell me to keep quiet, but he was too late.
"That would be me," I said, stepping forward, and Captain Leonard looked at me with wide eyes.
"You? A woman?" he asked me.
"You, a Third Lieutenant?" I shot back.
"Fair point," he said to me. "What do you know of ship's fever? We have suffered an outbreak of an infectious plague."
"Good God, man, and ye've brought it here?" Captain Raines exclaimed with distress.
"It's imperative ye dinnae touch anyone while on board, Captain. Ye shouldnae have come at all," I said to him somewhat sternly, crossing my arms across my chest.
"I had no choice, Madam! The Captain and two senior lieutenants have died, as have the ship's surgeon and the surgeon's mate. Of our entire crew, nearly half of them have fallen ill and half of those men have departed this earth," Captain Leonard told me.
"Have ye any symptoms yerself?" I asked him.
"Thankfully, no. I have kept well clear of the ill. The ship needs some sort of figurehead, at the very least, and we have a very important guest aboard our ship who must be kept entertained," Captain Leonard replied.
"Are ye here te press men, then?" Captain Raines asked this young captain.
"Heavens, no. The last thing I need is more mouths to feed," said Captain Leonard. "If you might provide medical assistance, however… What, might I ask, is your name, Madam?"
"Doctor Fowlis," I told him, giving him my maiden name, and Captain Raines looked first at me and then at Jamie curiously, who gave him a look as if to tell him to hush up.
"You call yourself a doctor?" asked Captain Leonard.
"I've the education and the degree," I told him. "Just because I've a cunny between my legs doesnae mean I dinnae have it."
"You must forgive me, Madam - er, Doctor Fowlis. You must have been very fortunate to find a mentor to educate you in medicine," said Captain Leonard. "Still, I have no time for credentials. I must have your help."
"What are the symptoms?" I asked him.
"Well, it starts with griping pains in the belly, which then leads to terrible vomiting, and the afflicted complain of fever," said Captain Leonard.
"Aye, sounds like ship's fever," said Archie, suddenly chiming in.
"Oh, tha's dreadful," said Caoimhe, who had joined him.
"Where the hell did ye two come from?" Jamie asked them.
" Ist , all of ye. Have they a rash on their stomach as well?" I asked Captain Leonard.
"Why, yes," he answered.
"What aboot the blazin' shits?" Archie asked him, causing the young man's little cheeks to turn red.
"Oh, yes… That, too," said Captain Leonard.
"I think I ken what it might be, but I'll need te examine them first te be sure," I said.
"So you'll come?" asked Captain Leonard with hope.
"Ahem. Excuse us a moment, gentlemen," Jamie growled, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me over to where he stood with Archie and Caoimhe. "Are ye mad? Ye cannae set foot on a ship wi' the plague. And you carryin' a bairn!"
"It's just typhoid fever, I'm immune te it," I said to him.
"Typhoid? Ye mean typhus?" asked Caoimhe.
"No, or rather, no' what ye both mean by it anyway. They willnae ken how te stop it, but I do. All I need te do is show them and they'll have no further need of me. I'll be right back here, safe and sound," I told them all.
"I can go with her, Da," said Archie.
"Absolutely not," I told him firmly. "I have immunity but you dinnae. No one will be steppin' foot on that ship but me."
"Ye willnae go alone!" Jamie hissed at me quietly.
"Then I'll go, and ye willnae say no te me, Auntie," Caoimhe told me.
"Aye, I will. No ," I told her. "Ye'll stay here."
" No ," said Caoimhe, mocking me, and then she pulled away from our group. "I'll fetch yer bags, Auntie, and we'll go on over te the ship."
"Caoimhe!" I called after her, but she was quick to go down into the infirmary, and I let out a firm huff. "She's no' goin'."
"Neither will you," Jamie told me.
"Jamie, I swore an oath te help people. 'I will prevent disease whenever I can, fer prevention is preferable te cure'. It's called the Hippocratic Oath, and it's ancient, but no less bindin'," I told him firmly, and he let out a huff.
"There'll be no talkin' ye out of this, will there be?" he asked me. "Verra well. I've sworn an oath now and then myself, and none of them lightly. I imagine ye dinnae take yers lightly, either."
"Ye've grown both aulder and wiser," I told him.
"Well, I'll no' be takin' my eyes off tha' ship until ye return," he replied, giving me a soft smile, so I stood up on my toes to kiss him.
"Thank ye. I love ye, Jamie. I'll return shortly," I said, turning around to see Caoimhe already standing beside Captain Leonard preparing to board the plank. "And you willnae be leavin' this ship, Caoimhe Fowlis."
"Too late, I'm on the plank!" Caoimhe called back to me as she climbed up onto the plank and crossed over to the Porpoise , and I let out a huff.
"Goddamn that girl's stubborn personality," I hissed under my breath, following her onto the ship. "Wait a minute. In the bag, there's cloth masks. Put one on, yer no' immune as I am."
"Aye, Auntie," said Caoimhe, setting the bag down on a barrel and opening it, finding the mask and putting it on by tying it behind her head.
"I am pleased to have you both here, Doctor Fowlis, and Miss Fowlis. Is this your daughter, Madam?" Captain Leonard asked me.
"My niece, actually, wi' all the stubbornness of her father, who is my brother," I told him, giving Caoimhe a look.
"The sick are down below here, in the hold," said Captain Leonard, leading me down the stairs to the hold, which reeked of illness, vomit and feces.
"Christ," said Caoimhe, trying not to retch.
"Aye, it's verra awful," I said in agreement. "Remain there on the stairs, Captain Leonard, and ye as well, Caoimhe." I approached one of the sick men, who lay in a hammock dripping with liquid shit. "Caoimhe, bring me a lantern."
"Aye, Auntie," said Caoimhe, bringing one over to provide some light.
"Hello, there. I'm Doctor Fowlis. What's yer name, laddie?" I asked the sailor, who smiled weakly.
"Laddie? Ye flatter me so, ma'am," said the older Irish sailor. "It's Michael, ma'am."
"Michael, may I have a look at yer belly?" I asked him, and he nodded. I raised his shirt and gently palpated it, finding it to be quite rigid, and noticed the telltale petechial rashes of Typhoid fever. "Thank ye verra much, Michael." I reached into my pocket with my clean hand and pulled out an alcohol bottle, pouring a little on my hands as I returned to Captain Leonard with Caoimhe on my heels. "It's as I suspected. Typhoid."
"Our surgeon said it was called ship's fever," said Captain Leonard.
"Aye, it's similar. It's a form of typhus as opposed te typhoid. How ye contain it is different," I told him. "The men need te be washed and laid where they can reach fresh air. Lyin' in their own shite will cause sores te open and become infected. Ye dinnae want tha'."
"We can lay them out on the deck," said Captain Leonard.
"That'll work. They'll also need a liquid diet, lots of boiled water. It's likely they became infected through a contaminated source, usually food or water. Best te sterilise yer water supply. Unfortunately, yer likely te run out of drinkin' water. What's yer destination?" I asked him.
"Jamaica, Madam. We shall be there in four weeks' time," said Captain Leonard. "Do you think we shall make it in time?"
"I dinnae ken fer sure," I said with a soft sigh. "Unfortunately, much of yer sick will die, there's no way around it. The hope is that ye can contain the spread, but ye'll have te prepare yerself. It'll get a lot worse before it gets better."
"Perhaps we can stay a little while te help ye organise yerselves?" Caoimhe chimed in, and I sent a glare in her direction. "Or I can. My aunt is expectin', ye see."
"Caoimhe," I warned her.
"Whatever assistance you can render us, I will be eternally grateful," Captain Leonard said to us both, and I let out a sigh.
"All right. Then we'll need a dozen of yer healthiest crewmen. I want cloth masks made fer everraone, boiled daily," I told him.
"It will be arranged. Mr. Pound!" called Captain Leonard, making his way back up the stairs.
"Will ye stop suggestin' things and puttin' yerself in places ye've no business, Caoimhe? I've a mind te thrash ye, I have," I said to her in a sharp hiss.
"We can help these men, Auntie. I've been wantin' te learn aboot healin' fer a while. Ye've said it yerself, it's aboot savin' lives. So what if they're English?" Caoimhe asked.
"Oh, ye think tha's what this is aboot?" I asked her. "No, there isnae anythin' we can do fer these men save fer-" I was interrupted by a pair of feet pounding down the stairs and was joined by a young lad who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen.
"Good day to you, ma'am. Elias Pound, at your service," he said to me, giving me a salute. "Captain Leonard has gone to check on our guest. He's informed me you're a surgeon, Madam?"
"Eilidh Fowlis," I said to him, and Caoimhe looked at me funny. "This is my niece, Caoimhe. She'll be assistin' me."
"A pleasure to meet you both, madams," said Elias Pound to us both. "I am informed by the Captain that I am to fetch you whatever it is you need. What may I assist you with?"
"Fer starters, we need the deck cleared. The sick men will need te be brought up. Let me have a look and see where the best area is," I said, making my way up the stairs. "I also want masks made fer everra healthy man before we start, and a bucket of pure alcohol, if possible."
"We have grog, will that help?" asked Elias Pound as we made our way up the deck.
"No, that isnae pure enough. Perhaps I can set up a distillery, if ye have the proper equipment," I said to him.
"As a matter of fact, we have two men pressed into service from Old Tolbooth in Edinburgh who were jailed for distilling illicit whisky" said Elias Pound. "I can employ them to distill pure alcohol."
"That would be perfect," I told him as I examined the deck. "What of the masks?"
"If ye have any cloth, thread and a needle, I can make them," Caoimhe chimed in.
"We have plenty of muslin available," said Elias Pound.
"Excellent, boil it first, dry it on the deck and then cut them up," I told them both.
"Consider it done, Madam," said Elias Pound.
"Perhaps I should go back over and tell them it'll take a wee bit longer, and get a wee bit of my garlic supply. Garlic has excellent antibacterial benefits," I said.
"Oh, the cook should have plenty," said Elias. "I'll lead you to the Galley." I glanced briefly at Caoimhe, then the two of us followed him to the kitchen, where the cook was hard at work preparing a meal. "Mr. Cosworth, I would like to introduce Madam Fowlis, the surgeon who will be assisting us in this epidemic."
"Not just now, I'm busy preparing the Governor's meal," said Mr. Cosworth, the cook. "Howard, chop faster!"
"Aye, sir," said a young lad by the name of Howard, cutting garlic faster.
"I dinnae care if yer preparin' a meal fer the king. We've go' sick and dyin' men, and if everra man on this ship dies, ye'll have no one te cook fer," I told him sharply, and he froze, lifting his head to look at me and narrowing his eyes.
"I'll not have a woman in my kitchen," he growled at me. "Or a Scot. Lost my leg fighting you bastards at Culloden."
"Sorry fer yer leg, I was a healer on the Scottish side. Had ye been brought te me, I probably could have saved it," I told him. "Now, I'll need boiled water, and lots of it. Best ye boil the whole water supply, it seems the men are sufferin' from an ailment that comes from contaminated sources."
"Captain's orders, Mr. Cosworth," said Elias. "Do as the surgeon says."
"Hmph," said Mr. Cosworth. "Once I've finished the meal."
"The sooner, the better. Ye can boil water alongside of it," I told him, and suddenly, the ship jolted, and I had to catch myself on the wall.
"What the hell?" Caoimhe exclaimed. "Are we movin'?"
"We'd better fuckin' not be," I growled, leaving the Galley and storming up to the deck, finding that we were pulling away from the Artemis. I looked up at the wheel, where Captain Leonard was steering the ship. "Oi! What the hell do ye think yer doin'?"
"Lay aloft and set the fall across. Haul in the special halyard!" called Captain Leonard to his men.
"Oi! I'm speakin' te ye! Answer me, ye bastard!" I shouted angrily up at him.
"I am in urgent need of your services, Madam!" Captain Leonard shouted back down to me.
"Well, turn back then!" I snapped back at him.
"You said yourself, Madam, we must make haste," said Captain Leonard. "I have assured your husband that I will provide you with suitable accommodations when we arrive in Jamaica."
"Ye cannae just kidnap me like this!" I shouted again.
"To tell you the truth, Madam, I am desperate. You may very well be our only chance and I must take it," Captain Leonard told me. "Both of our ships are sailing to Jamaica. You will be returned to your husband in due time."
"If he rips yer face off fer this, dinnae come cryin' te me. I'm pregnant, fer Bride's sake. I've go' herbs on the ship that I need!" I exclaimed, and Captain Leonard glanced down at me, paling when he noticed my condition.
"I… I apologise, Madam. I have failed to notice your condition," he said. "Still, we must make haste. You will provide your assistance along with your niece, as you have said you would."
"I said I would help ye, no' do it all fer ye," I growled at him. "Ye can give my niece and I yer quarters then, since ye insist on kidnappin' me. I'll no' have my niece lyin' near these men wi' only a single door between them."
"As you wish, Madam," said Captain Leonard, and I huffed and turned back around, finding Caoimhe behind me.
"Well, I guess yer gettin' the adventure ye wished fer," I said to her.
"It'll be all right, Auntie. We'll do good fer these men. Yer the wisest healer I've ever seen, even wiser than Mistress Thora," she told me.
"Tha's because I trained Thora," I told her. "Too well, apparently. She's replaced me completely. Oh, nevermind tha'. Get te work on those masks. Have the fabric boiled first and dried, I'll see te the alcohol distillation."
"Yes, Auntie," said Caoimhe, leaving me to go and find Elias. With a heavy sigh, I glanced up at the Artemis , which was quickly shrinking. There was no way they'd be able to catch up with a Man-of-War, the Artemis was scarcely even half its size. Jamie was going to be devastated, and then pissed at me for even getting on this ship. God, how could I be so stupid? Now I had no idea when I would see him again…
The Artemis
JAMIE POV
Jamie watched the Porpoise carefully after Catrìona had left, keeping a close eye out for the red of her hair. It had grown quite a few inches since January, and the red portion reached the bottoms of her ears. Soon, it would be long enough for her to cut off the brown, and then she would have her beautiful, luxurious bright red hair again. Hearing a bit of noise, Jamie glanced down to see Fergus carrying a bowl of herbs, of some type, which caused Jamie to raise his eyebrow in confusion. "Where've ye come from, lad?" Jamie asked him, startling him a little.
"Oh, from the cook, Milord," Fergus answered him.
"The cook? What dealin's have ye wi' the cook?" Jamie asked.
"Rosehips, cloves, lavender and orange peel," Fergus replied. "It is a potpourri for Marsali. My room with Archie is beginning to smell like the ship's bilge."
"No thanks te ye and yer cannon arse," Archie chimed in from nearby.
"You contribute just as much," Fergus told him, teasing him back. "Anywho, I thought it might impress her."
"Why do I get the feelin' it's me yer tryin' te impress, lad?" Jamie asked him curiously.
"Oi!" Archie suddenly shouted, followed by a loud crash. Jamie looked up at the Porpoise , noticing that the plank between the two ships had been pulled away by the sailors on the ship.
"Stop!" Jamie shouted at the ship, leaping over the bannister of the upper deck and landing on the lower deck. "Stop! After them! Raise the sails, fer Christ's sake!"
"They have Hell's own journey ahead of 'em, Mr. Fraser," said Captain Raines from up above.
"They have my wife! Yer surgeon, I might add!" Jamie snapped at him.
"They will provide her wi' lodgin' when they arrive in Jamacia and ye can have her back when we arrive," Captain Raines told her.
"Damn you!" Archie shouted at him. "Topmen! Away aloft! Make sail, won't ye?"
"Belay that order!" called Captain Raines to the men, confusing them further. "Set main sail only."
"They've taken my mother, damn you!" Archie spat at him fiercely, expressing an anger and a fury that Jamie had never before seen on his son.
"Christ, Archie," he said, truthfully a bit afraid of the lad. Normally, Archie possessed the docile nature that he shared with Jamie, but in Jamie's moments of anger and passion, Archie had displayed his great grandsire's ability to remain calm. However, it was clear from the vicious-looking snarl on his face that he certainly possessed the fire of his mother's spirit as well.
"Aim fer south-west," Captain Raines ordered his men, ignoring Archie, and the men lowered the sail to about two thirds of the way.
"That isnae enough sail! We'll never catch them!" Archie shouted up at him, then looking back at the Porpoise . "They're gettin' away, damn ye!"
"The Porpoise is carryin' sick wi' more dyin' everra day. Captain Leonard requires a surgeon fer the duration of its journey and is makin' headway at full sail te ensure the shortest possible journey," Captain Raines said calmly, which only seemed to annoy Archie even further.
"Then why cannae we? " he spat at Raines.
"What ye see is all the sail we can safely carry in this wind. Lest it's escaped yer notice, lad, we arenae the size of a Man-o-War," Raines told him. "Dinnae fash, ye will find her safe in Jamaica."
"And ye agreed te this, without consultin' me - her husband ," Jamie snapped at him. "She's carryin' a bairn, fer Christ's sake!"
"When the Captain of a seventy-four asks ye fer a surgeon, ye give him a surgeon. I have more than yer wife te think aboot, Mr. Fraser," Captain Raines said to Jamie, who scoffed angrily.
"Like hell ye do," Archie snapped, turning back around to look at the Porpoise. It's close enough fer me te swim te, Da. I can make it."
"Archie!" Jamie growled at him, grabbing his shirt and tearing it when Archie tried to run for the bulkhead.
"Mr. Warren!" Captain Raines exclaimed, but Mr. Warren was already hard at work restraining Archie while some of the other men pulled out their swords.
"Let my son go!" Jamie snapped at Mr. Warren. "Tell yer men te scabbard their blades!"
"Put 'em away, men," Captain Raines told the sailors.
"At the verra least, keep me in sight of her, man!" Jamie practically begged him.
"We'll sail at our own pace, Mr. Fraser, and no faster than is safe," Captain Raines said firmly to Jamie.
"Bastard!" Archie hissed at him. " A mhac na ghalla! "
"Mr. Warren, take Young Mr. Fraser below," said Captain Raines to Mr. Warren, who began to drag Archie away.
"Mama!" Archie shouted, fighting against Mr. Warren and trying to keep the ship in sight.
"If ye lock up my son, ye'll have te lock me up as well," Jamie said to Captain Raines fiercely.
"Suit yerself, Mr. Fraser," said Captain Raines, waving him off and turning away from him. Damn bastard, allowing the English to steal away Catrìona. God, she should have never gotten on the damned ship! He couldn't wait to see her until Jamaica - who knew how long it would take the damn Artemis to arrive? What if it was months? What if she went into labour and died bearing the child? What would happen to the child? God, the very thought of losing her made him see red all over again. This would not be the last he would see of her. He would make damn sure of it.
The Porpoise
CATRÌONA POV
"I need more room te house the infected," I said as the healthy sailors, along with their masks that they were not happy to be wearing, laid the sick sailors out on the deck.
"Is this not enough?" one of them snapped at me. "You've already taken over the entire deck!"
"They must be kept apart, no' touchin' one another," I told him, turning to make my way back down into the hold, where other sailors were taking down soiled hammocks. "These'll need te be cleaned and sterilised. Boil them in seawater, it'll be fine. Everra surface must be cleaned so it would be best if the deck down here is cleaned wi' soap and hot water followed by pure alcohol."
"A waste of a drink," said one of the sailors.
"This sickness is passed from man te man by contaminated food or water or infected urine and shite," I told them, and one of them called Mr. Jones scoffed.
"Then we're all dead. There's shit everywhere, in case it has escaped your notice, ma'am," said Mr. Jones rather snidely.
"Thankfully, this is mostly vomit, Mr. Jones. Still needs te be cleaned," I told him. "Back te work, then."
"Hmph," said Mr. Jones. "Lady doctor telling me what to do."
"What was that?" came the voice of young Elias Pound from behind me.
"Nothing, sir," said Mr. Jones.
"It's Captain's orders, Jones. You're to do as the doctor says and pay her every respect," Elias said to him.
"Good on ye," said Caoimhe, already hard at work mopping part of the deck.
"Mistress Fowlis," said another sailor, bringing me a bucket of pure alcohol. "Where should I put this?"
"There, on the hook," I said, and the sailor hung it up for me.
"That was quick, Mr. Sullivan! Thank you for your quick work," said Elias.
"Aye, thank ye verra much. I've a job for ye. Make sure no man walks in or out of here without dippin' their hands here in this bucket. Alcohol sterilises the hands, kills any bacteria tha' may be on them," I told him, looking into the bucket and finding a very small amount of alcohol. "Where's all the rest gone?" Mr. Sullivan belched rather loudly, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Sorry, Mistress," he said, a bit slurred. "Couldnae see it go te waste."
"This is fer hands, and hands only. Alcohol this pure can kill ye. Mr. Jones, get this man some bread and lie him down on the deck, will ye? He'll be awful sick in an hour or so," I said to Mr. Jones, who huffed, but agreed. I let out my own frustrated huff, making my way to a porthole and pushing open the window. "We need air in here. Open all the windows."
"Auntie," Caoimhe said to me, approaching me and lowering her voice. "Why'd ye give them a false name? Should I have done so?"
"No, hen, yer fine. I did so because not only has yer uncle been up te shady shit in Edinburgh, and no' te mention, as far as I ken, I'm still wanted as the Red Witch," I whispered back to her.
"Oh, aye, I forgot aboot tha'," Caoimhe replied. "Why did ye choose that name? Eilidh." I smiled softly.
"It was my mother's name - yer grandmother," I told her, giving her a soft smile, but she raised her eyebrow at me.
"Sure yer all right, Auntie?" she asked me.
"Aye, I… I miss my mother. And yer uncle," I said, glancing out of the porthole and seeing the Artemis off in the distance. "We're but miles apart and yet… it feels like fifteen years."
"I couldnae imagine the pain of bein' separated from the love of my life fer fifteen years," Caoimhe replied. "I see it in Daddy when he thinks of Mama, but I ken seein' it on others doesnae compare."
"No," I said softly. "It doesnae." Though I ached to be in the arms of my beloved Jamie once again, I was glad he wasn't anywhere near this plague ship. He was safe on the Artemis , even if it meant the pair of us were separated. I rested my hand on my belly, hoping that Jamie wasn't too angry with me for boarding this ship.
24 February, 1767
CAOIMHE POV
"Er… Miss Fowlis?" said Mr. Pound behind her, and Caoimhe stood up from tending to one of the sick sailors.
"Can I help ye, Mr. Pound?" Caoimhe asked him from behind her mask.
"I've managed to secure a hat for both you and your aunt. The sun can be quite unforgiving on those of us with paler skin," said Mr. Pound a bit meekly, handing Caoimhe a hat.
"Oh, tha's verra kind of ye, Mr. Pound. Thank ye," she said, putting on the tricorn hat proudly. "I understand there's a wee bit of discontent wi' the half rations of ale?"
"Of ale? Oh, the grog. No, it was not the most popular decision," said Mr. Pound with slight discomfort.
"Would they prefer te die instead? As Auntie says, Mr. Cosworth's pomander of herbs willnae stave off the Typhoid," Caoimhe told him.
"Your aunt is quite knowledgeable," said Mr. Pound with a smile.
"Here, I've brought some food fer the sick," came Auntie Cat's voice as she brought over a bucket full of a foul-looking milky substance and another carrying empty tankards. "There's more te bring up but ye can start wi' this, Caoimhe."
"What is it?" Caoimhe asked with slight disgust.
"A pap of scalded goat's milk and pounded biscuit," Auntie Cat replied. "Did ye ken there's a goat on this ship? Or rather, a few of them. There's a woman down in lower hold wi' several."
"Goats on a ship?" Caoimhe asked, accepting the two buckets from Auntie Cat.
"One mug per man. I'll be back in a bit wi' more," Auntie Cat replied, heading back down to the kitchens once again.
"Looks awfully delicious," Caoimhe said sarcastically, then she set down the bucket on top of a barrel and, using the ladle, scooped some of the milk and biscuit mixture into the tankards. Once she had filled all of the tankards and placed spoons that were also in the bucket inside of them, she turned to Mr. Pound. "Would ye mind helpin' me?"
"Of course," said Mr. Pound, accepting a tankard and bringing it to one of the sick sailors. Caoimhe knelt down to one who was easily her father's age, bringing a spoonful of the paste-like mixture to his lips.
"There ye are, this should go down nicely," she said to the man. "I ken it doesnae taste verra good, but it's food, aye? Food ye'll not vomit up."
"Th… thank ye… Mistress…" said the sailor weakly.
"Of course," Caoimhe replied sweetly. Once she'd finished with the sailor, she stood up and noticed that Mr. Pound seemed to be keeping as great of a distance as he could from the sailors while feeding them, and she chuckled and put her hands on her hips. "Ye can touch the sick if necessary, Mr. Pound, but ye must take care not te touch yer face, yer claithes, or anythin' really 'till ye've washed wi' the alcohol."
"Of course, Miss Fowlis," said Mr. Pound a bit shyly, causing Caoimhe to giggle again.
"How auld are ye, then? Ye look verra young," Caoimhe asked him. "I'm nineteen."
"Sixteen, Miss Fowlis," Mr. Pound replied.
"And it was… Elias, wasnae it?" Caoimhe asked, and he nodded. "Mine's Caoimhe. Can I call ye by yer name?"
"Oh, the Captain wouldn't like it, Miss Fowlis," Mr. Pound said to her. "It isn't said in the Navy."
"Well, I'm not in the Navy, am I?" Caoimhe teased him. "Fine, I'll be verra Navy in public but wi' us workin' in close quarters, it becomes quite a tongue twister te say 'Mr. Pound' and 'Miss Fowlis' all of the time, doesnae it?"
"I… I suppose so, Miss Fowlis," said Elias, glancing nervously over his shoulder for Captain Leonard.
"How long have ye been at sea, Elias?" Caoimhe asked him as she bent down beside another sailor with a mug of the gruel.
"Since I was seven, madam," Elias answered her. "My uncle is a commander on the Triton which allowed me to go aboard and become a sailor."
"Wow, tha's quite a long time ye've been at sea," Caoimhe told him. "I grew up on the Isle of Barra in the Outer Hebrides. I wasnae a sailor, but I met many. I'm the daughter of the Laird of Cìosamul, ye ken."
"The what?" asked Elias, raising an eyebrow.
"Have ye never been te Scotland?" Caoimhe asked him.
"Once, but I never left the ship," said Elias, and Caoimhe chuckled gently.
"Well, Barra's in Scotland. It's where I'm from," she told him. "What brings ye here on this ship?"
"Oh, I joined the Porpoise for this journey alone. We have a very important passenger onboard and I was enlisted to assist his passage across the sea to Jamaica," Elias told her.
"Who's this 'verra important passenger'?" Caoimhe asked him, standing back up right as Auntie Cat emerged from the kitchens with more gruel, removing her glasses and wiping a bit of sweat from her forehead and face.
"I'm told three more men have come down wi' Typhoid. They're bein' brought up now," Auntie Cat told them, turning as one of the sick men was brought up to the deck.
"That's Jim Quigley!" Elias exclaimed, recognising the young lad. "He's a friend. We come from the same town."
"Oh, puir lad," Caoimhe said as Auntie Cat directed the men carrying Jim Quigley.
"Lay him down here, and get him some water. And wash yer hands wi' alcohol. Dinnae touch anythin' else until ye do," she ordered the men, who seemed agitated by her directives.
"The men dinnae like my aunt, do they?" Caoimhe asked Elias with amusement.
"I do not believe they enjoy being ordered around by a woman," said Elias. "Your aunt does not act very ladylike."
"Auntie's never been kent te take any lip from anyone, especially men. It's how she gets things done, she says," Caoimhe replied to him.
"Caoimhe," Auntie Cat said, drawing Caoimhe's attention to her. "Keep feedin' the men. I need te have a word wi' the Captain."
"Yes, Auntie," said Caoimhe, getting back to work.
CATRÌONA POV
I went up to the First Mate's cabin, where Captain Leonard was residing since giving up his quarters to myself and Caoimhe, and knocked on the door. It opened, revealing a perplexed Captain Leonard.
"Doctor Fowlis. Is there a problem?" he asked me.
"No, no problem at all. I just need te see the surgeon's logbook," I told him. "I need te pinpoint the infection, now that I've got it contained, fer the most part. The only way te stop it is te figure out how it started."
"Of course. Right this way," said Captain Leonard, leading me back to the Captain's Quarters and going to the desk. He pulled out a key ring, then picked out a specific black pewter key and inserted it into the lock on one of the drawers, opening it and pulling out a journal. "I have my own log as well, but this is just as detailed." He opened it up to the date '21 January 1767' and laid it down in front of me.
"Four weeks ago was the first reported case?" I asked him.
"Yes, I remember exactly who it was who fell ill first. It was a man by the name of Ben Cole," said Captain Leonard.
"Ben Cole," I repeated, scanning the log for the name, then found it and read it aloud: "'Reported sick this mornin'. Headache, bellyache, dry cough, persistent fever'."
"And then Steven Cory had the same later that same day. Two fell ill the next day," Captain Leonard told me as I skimmed the log.
"MacMorrow, Entwhistle, same symptoms, same… What is that? This symbol here?" I asked him, pointing to a small symbol that looked a little like a 'v' with an 'x' in between the lines.
"Oh, that's the symbol of the Carpenter's Guild, Madam. The carpenter's crew belonged to them. Cory, Cole, MacMarrow and Entwhistle were all in it," Captain Leonard explained to me.
"I see," I said, drawing a conclusion from this. "Did they eat in the same room, perhaps? Remember I've said it can pass through contaminated food."
"Oh, they messed in the carpenter's store on the orlop," Captain Leonard replied.
"Hm," I said, not knowing exactly what an 'orlop' was but knowing Captain Leonard would likely show me anyway. "Well, I need te speak wi' the survivin' men then, find out how close their contact was."
"Certainly, those names will be here," said Captain Leonard, pulling out another journal from the drawer and opening it to a list of all the names of the crew members, pointing out the ones with the Carpenter's Guild stamp beside their names - they also had a 'DD' next to their names.
"Wha's tha' 'DD' mean?" I asked him.
"Discharged Dead, ma'am," said Captain Leonard.
"All of them?" I asked with exasperation.
"Yes, ma'am," Captain Leonard replied.
"I said survivin' men, Captain, no' the deceased. I cannae speak wi' the deceased," I said a bit irritably.
"Oh, but there is one remaining, now that I recall, and he never fell ill," said Captain Leonard, my slight flying over his head. "Joe Howard."
"Howard? Ye dinnae mean the one in the Galley, do ye?" I asked him, my eyes wide with surprise.
"He was reassigned on account of the deaths, ma'am, weeks ago. And he's never fallen ill," said Captain Leonard in his own defence.
"Christ," I growled, throwing open the door and running out to head down to the Galley. In there were Mr. Cosworth, the cook, and Mr. Howard, who very well might have been Patient Zero. "Mr. Howard!"
"Yes, ma'am!" exclaimed Mr. Howard, turning around to look at me.
"Not just now, Scot. We're busy preparing more of your gruel. A crime against man, it is," growled Mr. Cosworth.
"Mr. Howard, step away from the food and dinnae touch anythin' ," I said to him, noticing that Captain Leonard, Caoimhe and Mr. Pound were all behind me. "I need te see him in a separate room away from everraone, especially the food. This room needs te be cleaned thoroughly."
"What is the meanin' of this?" growled Mr. Cosworth angrily.
" Ist ," I hissed at him angrily. "Mr. Howard, have ye any nausea? General discomfort? Fever?"
"Er… No, ma'am, I feel fine and dandy," Mr. Howard told me with confusion.
"As you can see, Madam, Mr. Howard has not taken ill," Captain Leonard told me.
"But he's the common denominator," I told him, beckoning Mr. Howard to follow me. "Wi' me."
"The what?" asked Captain Leonard.
"The source of the disease," I told them all, and Mr. Cosworth scoffed.
"She's speaking gibberish!" he growled.
"How can I be the source of the disease?" asked Mr. Howard with concern. "Am I going to die?"
"No, ye'll be fine, but I need ye away from the food. Now, please," I ordered, but he didn't budge, and instead looked to Captain Leonard for an explanation.
"Please explain, Mistress Fowlis," said Captain Leonard, and I let out a huff.
"Ye can still have the disease without showin' symptoms. It's called bein' a carrier," I told them all. "Ye have the bacteria inside ye and can spread it easily."
"This is madness," said Mr. Cosworth. "She already has me dedicating all of my pots to boiling water and damned hammocks, we're on half rations of grog because we have to wash our hands in alcohol, and for what? Men are still dying!"
"Because the source of the disease is servin' food, ye gabbot!" I snapped back at him.
"Captain! I'll not give up my one remaining galley hand on account of a cursed woman's foolish notion!" Mr. Cosworth spat at me, and I scoffed.
"Ye will, and yer verra lucky ye havenae fallen ill, bein' in such close quarters wi' Mr. Howard," I said back to him rather viciously.
"A man is either sick or he is not, and Howard is as well as anyone can see!" snapped Mr. Cosworth stubbornly.
"Just because it is beyond yer comprehension, ye big daft fool, doesnae make it any less dangerous," I spat at him.
"We must believe her," said Captain Leonard. "She is the surgeon, she must know what she speaks of. Master-at-arms, take this man into custody."
"What have I done?" Mr. Howard exclaimed as he was led away.
"Wash yer hands after!" I called to the master-at-arms.
"It is not to punish you, Mr. Howard, it's to keep the other men safe," said Captain Leonard, following behind them. I started after then as well, only to be stopped by Caoimhe.
"Auntie, what's happened?" she asked me.
"Mr. Howard there is the source of the illness. He's wha's called a carrier, meanin' he has the illness without presentin' symptoms," I told her.
"How did ye find that out?" she asked me.
"Turns out the first te fall ill were the carpenters, and then when all but Mr. Howard died, he was sent te the galley, infectin' all the other men. Wi' him no longer preparin' food, the others should be safe," I explained to her.
"That sounds mad," Caoimhe replied, a little taken aback by this news.
"Aye, it feels mad, but it's the truth. However, tha' means that even we could be at risk, so yer te report any symptoms te me at once, is that understood?" I asked her, and she paled a little.
"Ye mean… I could fall ill?" she asked me.
"Aye, it… it's possible. I hope no', but it's possible," I told her, and then I rested a hand on her shoulder. "Dinnae fash, ye'll no' be joinin' the other men if ye do fall ill. I've a few tricks up my sleeve te ward off illness in those I love." I gave her a soft smile. "Bet ye wish ye stayed behind now, dinnae ye?"
"Surprisin'ly, no, not one bit," Caoimhe replied, shaking off her nerves with confidence.
28 February, 1767
The Artemis
ARCHIE POV
It had been six days since the Porpoise had stolen Mama away, and both Archie and Da were trapped behind bars to keep them from starting a mutiny. While Da was originally calmer than Archie, he had grown anxious in the passing days and became infuriated by the fact that Captain Raines dismissed his and Archie's concerns. "In here, and dinnae let them out. Captain's orders," came Mr. Warren's voice, and both Archie and Jamie looked up in their cell to see who was visiting them.
"Daddy!" Marsali exclaimed, running to the cell and falling to her knees. "They wouldnae let us see ye till now!"
"Marsali!" Da exclaimed when he saw her, glad to have company that wasn't Archie's sulking broodiness.
"Milord, Archie, how are you, then?" Fergus asked them. "It looks very close in there, no?"
"Aye, just a bit," Archie grumbled bitterly. "Can ye see the Porpoise still? Soon as I'm free, I'll be swimmin' out there te rescue Mama and Caoimhe."
"Dinnae be a fool, ye will not!" Marsali snapped at him.
"No, they are no longer in sight," Fergus told them, and Da growled angrily.
"Damned bastards," he growled.
"I, fer one, dinnae miss the company of tha' witch," said Marsali rather smugly, and Archie narrowed his eyes at her. "Caoimhe, sure, she was verra kind, but wi' the witch gone, maybe ye can go back te Ma, Daddy."
" Enough !" Archie snapped angrily, causing Marsali to let out a squeak as Archie shoved his father aside and grasped the bars to get as close to Marsali as he could. He grabbed her pinafore and yanked her closer, causing her to let out a shout again and alarming Fergus.
"Archie!" Fergus exclaimed, trying to pull Marsali free, but Archie's grip on her pinafore was firm.
"Dinnae call my mother a witch again, damn it! Ye have no idea what my mother is like, nor do ye ken at all what went on in the marriage bed between yer mother and my father!" Archie growled furiously at her.
"Archie, let go of her at once!" Da ordered him, grabbing Archie and forcing him to let go of Marsali, who stumbled backwards in terror.
"My mother is a good woman! Yer mother nearly had her killed! I bet ye didnae ken tha', did ye?" Archie demanded of her, and Marsai gasped.
"My mother would never do such a thing!" she snapped at him. "Isnae tha' right, Daddy?" Da didn't answer her, and her expression changed. "Isnae it? Daddy!"
"Yer mother did try te kill Catrìona, Marsali," Da told her calmly. "It wasnae long after we were first marrit… Yer mother was a jealous wee lass, and Catrìona was wi' child - carryin' Archie, as a matter of fact. She… tricked my wife into goin' te the home of a woman bein' arrested fer witchcraft and was arrested as well, then testified against her at the trial. She verra nearly succeeded, had I no' come and rescued her."
"No… No, my mother would never do such a thing. She said she was a witch, and tha' she stole ye away from her!" Marsali cried out.
"I hardly kent yer mother. My wife didnae 'steal me away', nor is she a witch," Da told her, his voice heavy with longing for his wife.
"See tha'? Yer mother's no' so innocent at all!" Archie snapped at Marsali, absolutely fed up with the lies Mrs. MacKimmie had told her daughters.
"Archie, be quiet," Da told him.
"It cannae be true! She said ye loved her, Daddy! It cannae be true!" Marsali cried, her voice cracking, and then she got up and ran out of the room, leaving Fergus behind.
"Must you be so cruel to Marsali?" Fergus asked Archie with annoyance, and Archie scoffed.
"Ye've heard some of the shite she said aboot my mother. Have ye no respect fer her? She took ye in as her own son and this is how ye thank her?" Archie argued back.
"You are distressed about Milady's disappearance," Fergus said to him with narrowed eyes.
"Enough, lads!" Da snapped at them both, silencing them, and then he went back to the bars. "Fergus, I need yer help. Get me the keys."
"The keys, Milord?" Fergus asked him, raising an eyebrow.
"Aye, the keys! Have ye forgotten yer a pickpocket? I need out of this hold at once. I lost Catrìona once, more than once, and I'll no' lose her again."
"Milady will be safe, Milord! You have told me that it is impossible for her to get the disease!" Fergus told him, but Archie scoffed.
"Disease is nothin' fer my mother, but there's more than disease on tha' ship. She's surrounded by men, as is Caoimhe," Archie told him.
"Have you doubt in Milady's strength and skill? I have seen her fight off men many times," Fergus told him.
"Aye, I've no doubt aboot her strength, but I've my cousin te think aboot as well," Archie replied.
"I am no' fond of the idea of men tryin' te have their way wi' her, so get them. Get the keys from Raines, set us free. We'll take the ship and set all sail," Da ordered him again.
"Mutiny?" Fergus asked him. "Milord, it will not work. The crew is not yours. They will not follow you."
"Some will," Archie told him. "Dumez and Girard have loyalty te Cousin Jared, no' Raines."
"Aye, they've been in Jared's service fer a long time. We'll also have Willoughby, Lesley, Hayes, and Duncan. Count us three, and we've nine in total," Da chimed in.
"Nine against the whole of the crew. We will lose," Fergus told him, trying to reason with the Frasers, but due to concern for the welfare of their beloved mother and wife, they were blind to reason.
"Convince more, then," Da told him.
"Manzetti will come our way, he's a great respect fer Mama," Archie said.
"No. You both have forgotten reason. The Porpoise is easily several days ahead of us. We will never catch them," Fergus told them both.
"Then we'll abandon Jared's wine," said Da.
"Aye! An empty ship runs faster," Archie chimed in. "We'll catch them in no time."
"And then what? You wish to battle against a Man-of-War?" Fergus asked the two of them.
"We'll get te tha' matter when we catch them," Da told him.
"No," Fergus said again. "I love her, too, truly, but she would think you both fools for putting yourselves in danger for her sake."
"She'll no' think we're fools!" Archie snapped at him.
"She will!" Fergus told him, and Da scoffed.
"I see I was right te withhold my blessin' from ye. Proves ye dinnae ken what love is," he said bitterly.
"You do not mean that, Milord," Fergus told him, obviously hurt from this remark.
"How can ye say that?" Da asked him incredulously. "If ye did ken what love is, ye would move heaven and earth, risk arrest and death, even Hell! Ye'd do it as easily as ye breathe, as if it were natural! And ye'd set Archie and me free from this cell te help us rescue the woman we love from her kidnappers! Until ye risk all, ye cannae speak of love!" He sat back down and looked away from Fergus, desperate to escape and swim to the Porpoise himself. Seeing the frenzied desperation in his father's eyes, turning him into a desperate, frightened animal that Archie had never seen before, made him start to reconsider his position. God, Mama would kill them both for starting a mutiny on a ship just to get to her. And Captain Raines had a point… Both ships were destined for Jamaica, meaning when the Porpoise arrived, she would be settled and waiting for the Artemis to arrive.
"Milord," Fergus said quietly.
"Get me those keys, lad," Da said sharply. "Help me break free and I'll give my blessin' fer ye te marry Marsali." For a moment, Fergus was quiet, considering Da's offer quietly, and then he steeled his face and shook his head.
"No," he said firmly. " No. I will not be bribed with your blessing. As there are men on the Porpoise , there are men on this ship, and if we start a mutiny, they will throw us all overboard. There will be no one left to protect Marsali."
"Then we'll succeed," Da said to him.
"We will not ," Fergus told him sharply. "They will kill us, and Marsali will be alone. I will not send you, nor Archie, to your deaths. I know it means you will not give me your blessing, but you asked me if I would move heaven and earth for the woman I love. I would, and I will, even if it means I cannot marry her." He paused, leaving Da to stare at him stunned into silence. "I do this for you as well, Milord." With that said, Fergus stood and left, leaving both Da and Archie alone in the cell. Archie let out a soft chuckle.
"Good on him, kennin' wha's best fer us fools," Archie said, and Da turned on him next.
"What do ye mean? That ship kidnapped yer mother, lad," Da said to him sharply.
"I ken. I saw it happen. We'll be no good te Mama dead," Archie told him.
"So he's turned ye, has he?" Da asked him. "Turned my son against his own father."
"No, he made me see reason. Now, quiet yer sulkin', I'm takin' a kip," Archie told his father, laying down in the tight cell and leaving his father to brood in silence.
2 March, 1767
The Porpoise
CATRÌONA POV
I bent over the body of one of the men and pulled out of my pocket a small mirror I had asked Captain Leonard for, holding it underneath the man's mouth to see if the mirror fogged up. It did, which meant he was still breathing, albeit slowly, so I patted the man's shoulder as I stood back up. "It'll all be over soon, a leannan ," I told him quietly, then I glanced up over the body of the lad who was from the same town as Mr. Pound, who, along with Caoimhe, was stitching up the muslin bag that the dead were wrapped in before being buried at sea.
"The last stitch must go through the nose, Miss Fowlis, to ensure that he's dead," Mr. Pound was explaining to her. "'Tis always done by a friend."
"Tha's verra thoughtful, if no' a wee bit morbid," Caoimhe replied. She then stood and joined me by my side as Captain Leonard led the ceremonial part of the sea burial.
"Ship's company, off hats," he said, and everyone, including Caoimhe and I, took off our hats. I had tied back my hair, and because the red was growing in quickly, I was able to, for the most part, conceal a lot of the brown. I had been cutting at it regularly, in case my hair got too long, and the red was now nearly to my chin. A few more weeks of growth and I'd likely be able to cut off the brown entirely, leaving me with my normal, natural red hair. "In the midst of life, we are in death," Captain Leonard began, starting with the prayer. "Of whom may we seek for succour but of thee, O Lord, whom for our sins are justly displeased? Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts…"
I began to tune out, glancing up at the sky and closing my eyes so I could give my own silent prayer. Blessed Brigid, care for these children of Earth. Blessed Rhiannon, see that these poor souls do not suffer any more than they have. For those that are suffering, see that they fall into a deep, eternal slumber. Merry meet and merry part, and merry meet again. Blessed be.
I was started by the sounds of gunshots, as the healthy men performed a three-volley salute, bringing me back to the present. "Our father, which art in Heaven," continued Captain Leonard, and then a chorus of voices, including Caoimhe's beside me, followed in prayer.
"Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us for our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever. Amen."
"Amen," I said quietly, watching as they dumped five bodies, one by one, into the sea.
"Back to your duties, men," said Captain Leonard, and the men dispersed, including Mr. Cosworth, who approached me as I put my hat back on my head.
"Five dead. That's more than yesterday," he said to me. "And What are you doing about it? Boiling water and washing hands." He scoffed. "There'd better be fewer in the days to come is what I say… Doctor ."
"Is tha' a threat?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow curiously.
"Of course not," said Mr. Cosworth rather bitterly, and then he glanced at Caoimhe before he limped away, his wooden leg tapping with every step.
"Ye go te bed. It's gettin' late," I said to Caoimhe, noticing how the sun was nearly below the horizon.
"Do ye need anythin', Auntie?" she asked me, but I shook my head.
"No. I need te do one last check of the sick, but tha's aboot it. I dinnae need yer help wi' that," I told her, sending her off. I went back to the man I had seen before, bending over him and using the mirror to check for his breathing, but it no longer fogged up. I let out a sigh, wiping the mirror with an alcohol-soaked rag and placing it back in my pocket. "We've another deceased right here."
"Yes, ma'am," said the men, coming to cover him up. With a hopeless feeling weighing down my heart, I climbed up to the top deck and leaned against the banister facing the stern, closing my eyes to the wind. I didn't know how long I was up there, but I was soon joined by another set of footsteps and felt a presence beside me.
"You must be the surgeon Captain Leonard has recruited," said a regal-sounding voice, and I opened my eyes to see a very clean, well-put-together man with fair hair that I had never seen before. I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Aye," I answered. "And ye are?"
"Oh, Lord John Grey, madam, Governor of Jamaica," he told me. Grey? Had I heard that name before? Or seen this man's face before? It was a bit dark, so it was hard to tell for certain.
"Ah, so yer the important passenger," I said. "Rotten luck, gettin' transported on a plague ship, aye?"
"Yes, it is a bit of a disappointment," he said to me, clasping his hands behind his back. "And a true shame. I witnessed the funeral for those five poor souls. I cannot imagine dying of this dreadful illness."
"Then ye should probably go back te wherever ye've been hidin'," I told him casually.
"Gosh, I am so tired of hiding away and not being allowed to go outside, at the very least," he said to me with some exaggeration. "Tell me, Mistress…"
"Fowlis," I finished for him. "And it's Doctor, actually. I've a degree and everrathin'."
"Doctor? You?" he asked me with surprise.
"Aye, I ken it's so hard te believe a woman can have enough brains fer it, but I worked hard fer my title, and I'll no' be disrespected," I told him a bit firmly, and his cheeks flushed.
"Of course not, madam. I am terribly sorry for the offence," Lord Grey told me. "Doctor Fowlis… Is there a secret to remaining so calm in the face of so much death?" At this, I sighed, looking down at the waves of the ocean beneath the ship.
"Desensitisation," I told him. "I've seen a lot of death in my time. I was a healer durin' the Uprisin' fer the Scottish side, and then when I went te the colonies, I… served as a healer in the war there as well."
"I see," said Lord Grey, a strange look crossing his face. "You… You did not happen to be at Culloden, did you?"
"I wasnae there, no. Had I been, I'd have been killed. Surely, ye recall what Billy the Butcher did te the people of Scotland in the days followin' Culloden," I said to him, and he nodded.
"Yes, I… have heard a thing or two," Lord Grey replied. "Sorry, it's just… You seem strangely familiar, like I've seen you before."
"I cannae say the same," I said, though there was something about him that was strangely familiar.
"Hmm, I am certain it'll come to me in due time," he replied, and then he sighed. "I suppose I should return to my cabin. It was nice to get a breath of fresh air, for once. It has been a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Fowlis."
"A pleasure te meet ye as well, Lord Grey," I said, nodding to him as he bowed, and I watched him walk away. Lord Grey… Huh. He looked a little young to have fought in Culloden, but perhaps he was a lad that was with the English army. Perhaps his face or his name would come to me in due time.
7 March, 1767
I wiped more sweat from my brow as I stood over a pot of boiling water, stirring in hammocks to sterilise them. God, it was getting so hot! We must have been close to Jamaica at this point, or at least somewhere in the Indies. My attention was drawn from the pot when a young man came running up to me with an urgent look on his face. "Beggin' yer pardon, Madam. Another man's been taken ill," he said in an Irish accent.
"All right, take me te him. What's his name?" I asked, pulling out my smaller notebook which had the names of the surviving crew in it and crossed out names of the deceased.
"It's Mistress Johansen's husband, ma'am," said the lad, leading me out of the galley which, thankfully, wasn't occupied by Mr. Cosworth, and down to the orlop - which, by this point, I had learned was the lowest deck of the ship.
"Tha's the husband of the goat keeper, aye?" I asked the young lad.
"Aye, the gunner," the lad answered me, leading me to the sick man in question. He was lying down on the ground with his wife hovering over him in a panic shouting in what I assumed was Swedish.
" Hjälp honom! Hjälp honom, han dör! " she shouted at me with desperation.
"Shh, Shh, I need ye te relax. I dinnae speak Swedish. Do ye speak English? Ah…" I said, recalling that Sweden was one of our allies in the second rebellion but not remembering much of the Swedish class I had taken. " Prata de… English?" I asked her, knowing full well it was wrong.
"Ah, ah, English! English! Ja , I speak," she said to me, pinching her fingers together to indicate that she spoke a little.
"Good, good," I said, examining Mr. Johansen.
"No breathing!" Mrs. Johansen exclaimed.
"Yes breathing, verra slow," I told her as I held the mirror to his mouth and noticed it fogging up, and then I rolled him onto his side - as he was on his back and nearly choking on his own vomit. "How long has he…" I froze when I saw a knocked-over jar beside him that had been revealed when I turned him over, and then I picked it up and gave it a sniff, smelling the alcohol inside of it. "Oh, of all the bleedin' stupid, foolish things te do…"
"Madam?" asked the young lad behind me.
"Half of the men on this fucking ship are dyin' of Typhoid and this bleedin' fool has almost drank himself te death on the alcohol that I need te stop the goddamn fever from spreadin'!" I snapped angrily, then noticed the shocked expression on the young lad's face. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just so angry!"
"I've heard many such things before, Madam, but never from a gentlewoman!" he exclaimed with surprise, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Och, laddie, ye flatter me. I'm no gentlewoman, trust me," I said to him. "What's yer name, laddie?"
"O'Hara, ma'am. Gerry O'Hara," the lad called O'Hara told me.
"A pleasure te meet ye, Mr. O'Hara. Would ye mind fetchin' me fresh water and some bread? We need te flush this alcohol out of Mr. Johansen's system," I told him.
"Aye, Madam, I will," he told me, and then he rushed off. I then turned my attention to Mrs. Johansen, who seemed very confused.
"Mrs. Johansen, yer husband has alcohol poisonin'," I said to her, and she became alarmed.
"Poison?" she said with alarm.
"By drink," I said, pointing to the jar. "He did this te himself."
" Dumma fåne !" Mrs. Johansen snapped, smacking her husband lightly. "You kill yourself!"
"Mrs. Johansen, dinnae fash, he'll be all right," I told her, trying to calm her down.
"He will wake up?" she asked me with concern.
"Aye, he will," I told her with a smile. "Mrs. Johansen…"
"Annekje," she said to me with a smile, and then she pointed to herself. "My name."
"Ah," I said, and then pointed to myself, giving her my false name in case anyone was listening. "Eilidh."
"Ee-lee?" she asked me, and I nodded.
"I'm Scottish," I told her. "It's like Ellen."
"Oh. I am Sweden," she told me kindly.
"I've heard it's verra beautiful," I told her. "I wanted te thank ye fer yer work wi' the goats. What yer goats provide fer us is keepin' the men alive."
"I keep do?" she asked me.
"Aye, keep do," I told her just as O'Hara returned with bread and a little bit of water. "That isnae enough water, Mr. O'Hara."
"It's all they'd give, ma'am. They say the supply's low," O'Hara replied, and I huffed.
"Well how do they expect me te help these men if I cannae give them any water?" I asked. "I'll need a word wi' the Captain. Will ye stay here and monitor Mr. Johansen?"
"Aye, ma'am," said O'Hara as I made my way back up. I passed a secluded area and stopped, then backtracked and looked at a pile of crates, which was covered by a white cloth with a red and gold symbol on it. I slowly approached the cloth and picked it up, realising that it was actually a flag with a golden crest topped by a regal maroon crown and featuring a red rectangle with seven golden crowns along the border and another white shield in the middle, with five blue symbols inside of it. This wasn't just any flag - this was the flag of Portugal.
As I made my way back up to the top deck with the flag in hand, I spotted Captain Leonard at the helm, then made my way up the stairs. "May I speak wi' ye, Captain?" I asked him, and he looked at the flag in my hands curiously.
"Wherever did you find that?" he asked me.
"In the hold," I told him. "Why do ye have this?"
"Three weeks ago, we boarded a Portuguese frigate in search of a surgeon," Captain Leonard replied to me.
"Was it a ship called the Bruja ?" I asked him.
"I wouldn't know, Madam," he said to me. "If you don't mind, I am quite busy just this moment." I let out a huff, then left him alone and made my way to the Captain's Quarters to look through my herbs for a bit of peppermint for the headache I was getting from all this. I paused for a moment, then remembered that the captain's log was in a locked drawer inside of the desk in that very room. I approached the desk and knelt down to inspect the lock, then pulled a pin out of my hair and unfolded it so I could attempt to pick the lock. It took several moments of finagaling the pin until I finally felt the lock move into the unlocked position, then opened the drawer. I pulled out the Captain's log and set it on the surface of the desk, flipping through until I found the mention of the Portuguese ship.
"Portuguese frigate…" I muttered, and then I huffed. "The Caçador . Damn it." I sat down in the chair with frustration, then happened to notice the entry about the encounter with the Artemis. A few days after the Porpoise had encountered us, there was a mention of the name 'Malcolm', and curiosity got the better of me as I read it: 'Harry Tompkins, able seaman, tells me Alexander Malcolm, wanted seditionist, was seen onboard the Artemis. I've deduced that he means the man I met, James Fowlis, husband of the surgeon we have acquired, obviously going by an alias.' "Oh, fuck…" I muttered quietly to myself. This meant that Captain Leonard knew that I was lying about my name. Granted, he still didn't know my true name, but he knew very well that my name wasn't Eilidh Fowlis. A knock at the door startled me and I slammed the log shut, throwing it back into the drawer and closing it as quietly as I could.
"Mistress Fowlis?" came a voice from outside. "It's Mr. Pound, he's been found ill, ma'am, and in dire need of your assistance."
"Just a moment!" I called, inserting the hairpin into the lock to lock it again, and then I shoved it into my pocket.
CAOIMHE POV
Caoimhe had been the one to find Elias, who had been unaccounted for since early that morning. When she found him, he appeared to be very sick, pale and febrile, and lay in a rather large puddle of his own vomit. Soon, Auntie Cat came, having been summoned by one of the sailors Caoimhe had sent to find her, joined Caoimhe at her side. "How long has he been like this?" she asked Caoimhe quietly and calmly.
"I dinnae ken. I've only just found him," Caoimhe told him. "He's so young, Auntie. He cannae die. Cannae ye save him?" Auntie Cat laid her hand on Elias's sweaty forehead and he stirred slightly, but didn't open his eyes.
"Blessed Bride," she muttered. "He's the fourth new case today… I should've thought findin' the carrier would end it, but I suppose the incubation period varies from man te man." Auntie Cat looked up at the sailor who had gone to fetch her. "Tell me, do ye ken of a sailor by the name of Harry Tompkins?"
"Tompkins? Yes, I know him. What of him?" asked the sailor.
"I believe he might be the second carrier. Find him, have him wait fer me in a private room. Dinnae tell the captain yet, I dinnae want te stir up trouble like wi' Mr. Howard in the galley," she told him.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and then he went off.
"How did ye find out Mr. Tompkins was the second carrier, Auntie?" Caoimhe asked her aunt.
"I dinnae think he is," she replied, and then she lowered her voice. "However, he's identified yer uncle as a seditionist so I need him alone te speak wi' him, find out what he kens. I saw it in the Captain's log." Caoimhe gasped a little, then glanced around her.
" Is Uncle a seditionist?" she asked.
"Remember I said 'shady shit'?" Auntie Cat asked, and then she looked back down at Elias. "Christ, poor lad… We'll need te get him up wi' the others, it's best we keep the sick all together."
"Cannae he stay here where it's quiet and he's alone?" Caoimhe asked.
" A leannan , it's best we keep the disease confined te one area of the ship. I'll go and send some men down te bring him up. Stay with him, and keep him on his side. We'll do what we can fer him but I'm afraid there isnae much we can do," Auntie Cat told her, and then she, too, was gone, leaving Caoimhe alone with Elias.
"Ye'll be all right, Elias. Trust me, I will not let ye die," Caoimhe promised him, grasping his hand tightly in hers.
CATRÌONA POV
I made my way to a storeroom, where the sailor I had sent after Mr. Tompkins was waiting outside. "He's in there, Mistress," he said to me.
"Thank ye kindly," I said, going inside. Inside of the room was a very scraggly-looking man with long, matted hair, burn scars on his face and one blind eye - the same blind man that had burned down the print shop, perhaps? "Mr. Tompkins, thank ye fer comin'," I told him, closing the door behind me.
"Not like I had much choice," Mr. Tompkins snapped at me, and then he narrowed his one good eye and smirked at me. "I ken who ye are, Mistress Malcolm. I could see yer husband on the ship. Hard te miss, wi' that bright red hair, aye?"
"I imagine so," I said, crossing my arms across my chest. "Now, yer te tell me exactly what ye ken aboot my husband."
"Or what? Ye'll cut off my arm?" he asked, and then he let out a laugh. "Go on, kill me then. I'll thank ye fer it! After the month I've had, I'll be more than glad te see the inside of a casket! Five months ago, I had both feet on land, workin' fer His Majesty's Excise fer Sir Percival Turner. I followed a lad from the docks te Mr. Malcolm's print shop, and I uncover a treasonous plot, dinnae I? Only the wee shite throws hot lead in me face, and I'm nearly burned alive! I make it out of there, scarred fer life, and I inform Sir Percival of the matter. I reckon I'm fit te be promoted. Instead, I'm pressed into service on a ship full o' disease. So go ahead, aye?" He stretched his neck. "Here's me neck. Put me out of my misery!" I couldn't help but scoff at this man's sob story.
"I jus' might," I said to him in a threatening tone. "Too bad fer ye, my husband cannae get arrested on Captain Leonard's word alone, nor Sir Percival's, nor yers ."
"Ah, tha's where yer wrong, lass," said Tompkins in a taunting tone. "They have him now, and warrants fer his arrest fer murder and high treason."
"Murder, aye?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, aye," said Tompkins. "Guess what they found the day before the press gang got me? In a cask of crème de menthe it were, wi' a bullet hole in his chest."
"Guess they werenae Scotsmen," I told him. "My husband didnae kill tha' man."
"The warrants say otherwise," Tompkins replied snidely. "I've told the captain I recognised the man. He'll write a report soon as we arrive in Jamaica."
"I'll talk him out of it," I replied firmly.
"Captain Leonard's a verra ambitious man," said Tompkins.
"And I can be a verra convincin' woman," I said to him with a warning tone, and Tompkins smiled at me.
"Yer more than jus' 'Mrs. Malcolm', arenae ye? Coulda sworn ye had brown hair, last I saw ye," he told me maliciously. "Red hair, like Mr. Malcolm… Yer the Red Witch, arenae ye?"
"Keep threatenin' my family and ye'll find out," I warned him.
"Ferocious fer a woman," he said to me. "As I've said, Captain Leonard's an ambitious man. He wants the Admiral te give him command o' his own ship, ye see. Little chance, o' course. But … if he brings in a wanted seditionist, hmm… it just might. Wager he'd no' be talked out o' tha', Red Witch. Authorities will be waitin' fer yer husband when he comes te fetch ye in Kingston. Then he'll be hanged, and so will ye, when I tell him who ye and Mr. Malcolm really are." I didn't react emotionally, but I leaned back and crossed my arms across my chest.
"Mr. Jones, this man is the second source of the fever," I announced to the man outside, and then I leaned back in closer to Tompkins. "I wouldnae get too close te Mr. Howard, lest ye want te catch the disease. He's the real source. Be a shame if ye caught it."
After threatening Tompkins, I went down to check on Mr. Johansen, as it had been a couple of hours since I left him, and found him a bit febrile, but conscious on a cot and no longer vomiting. "Glad te see yer feelin' better, Mr. Johansen. Best ye dinnae try that again, aye?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow.
"Ah, no," he said to me tiredly, and I chuckled lightly.
"Best ye get some sleep. Ye'll feel rotten so ye'd best sleep through it," I told him, standing up fully and letting out a sigh as I slowly passed Mrs. Johansen and her goats.
"Oh. Sad, you?" she asked me, stopping me in my tracks.
"Huh?" I asked. "Oh… Aye, a wee bit. My husband is… goin' te face trouble when we arrive in Jamaica and I've no way te warn him. In fact, they might use me as bait."
"Oh," said Mrs. Johansen sympathetically. "I help."
"Tha's verra kind of ye, but I dinnae see how ye could," I told her, and she pointed to her goats.
"Goats need grass. We reach island soon. Goats need grass to make milk for men. We close to land, you jump," she told me, and I raised my eyebrows.
"Jump?" I asked her, and she nodded.
" Ja. You jump," she replied. "Two day, we near land. Captain say so. You jump night before."
"Two days," I said, nodding subtly. "I'll think aboot it. There's my niece te consider."
"She go with," said Mrs. Johansen. "Two night. You meet me on back. I show you."
"All right, all right," I said, nodding to her. "All right… Thank ye, Annekje."
8 March, 1767
It was late, and Caoimhe had just come into our quarters and was changing out of her dress when I decided to broach the topic with her. "Caoimhe… We have te leave this ship."
"Wha's that, Auntie?" she asked, turning to look at me.
"We need te leave this ship," I told her. "As soon as we can. We need te find a way te get off this ship and get te Jamaica before this ship and warn Jamie aboot the fact tha' there's now a warrant out fer his arrest."
"How are we goin' te do tha'? We're in the middle of the ocean, Auntie," Caoinhe told me.
"Mrs. Johansen, the gunner's wife and the goat keeper, says we can jump off the ship tomorrow night before it makes fer land so her goats can get grass," I told her, and she raised her eyebrows at me.
"Jump off the ship? Auntie, are ye mad?" Caoimhe asked me in a hushed whisper.
"I'm more desperate te see yer Uncle safe than I am concerned aboot my life," I told her. "Caoimhe, I have te at least try."
"But yer with child! What if it hurts the bairn?" Caoimhe asked me. "Uncle Jamie would be furious wi' ye fer doin' this!"
"Yer uncle understood when I bedded the king of France te free him from the Bastille," I told her, and her eyes widened.
"Wh- ye laid wi' the king of France?" she asked me with utter shock.
"Years ago, and it was pathetic," I told her. "Look, Caoimhe, my mind's made up. We must do it. We must get off this ship." She was quiet for a moment, as if deep in thought, before she spoke again.
"No, Auntie. One of us must stay," she told me. "I'll stay, throw off suspicion, say ye must have fallen overboard or that I dinnae ken where ye've gone. Or even tha' ye've taken ill and yer no' te be seen. It'll throw suspicion off ye."
" No. No, Caoimhe. I'll no' be leavin' ye behind!" I snapped at her, but she gave me a firm look in response.
"Aye, Auntie, ye will," she said. "There's still sick men on this ship. They need someone te tend te them. I cannae in good conscious abandon them. Ye must, fer Uncle Jamie, but I dinnae need te."
"There's so many men on this ship, Caoimhe. Without me here, what if they harm ye?" I asked her with concern.
"My hope is they're grateful te me fer helpin' them," Caoimhe replied. "You go. Let me handle everrathin' here." At first, I didn't make a sound, debating with myself in whether or not it would be wise to see Caoimhe alone without me. She would be delivered to Jamaica, where we would eventually reunite, if I succeeded in finding Jamie, but what if something happened to her in the meantime? Cailean would never forgive me if I allowed his daughter to be harmed. But at the same time, Caoimhe was so grown, so independent… She reminded me of myself when I was her age, and how I never let anyone try and tell me what they thought was best for me.
"I see ye in Caoimhe easily. She's the mischief of her father and the looks of her mother, but she has yer spirit. If she didnae have that, I would have ordered this ship te turn around the moment I realised she was onboard."
In the words of Jamie himself, Caoimhe had my spirit. If any man tried to lay a hand on her, I had confidence that she would be able to handle herself. And knowing that Captain Leonard was a gentlemanly type, and knowing that he wanted to be given his own ship, he would not allow any harm to come to her, and if he did, I would make an accusation against him claiming he allowed my niece to be raped by his men.
"All right," I said. "I'll trust ye. I'll see ye in Jamaica, then."
9 March, 1767
I met with Annekje on the stern of the ship, along with Caoimhe. I was still hesitant to leave her behind, but she continued to assure me that she would be perfectly fine. "Go, Auntie. Uncle Jamie needs ye," she told me. "He needs ye a hell of a lot more than I do just now."
"Aye, I ken. I just worry aboot ye, Caoimhe," I told her with a soft sigh, holding her cheek in my palm. "Ye remind me of myself when I was yer age. If I could do it… then I ken ye can as well. But fer God's sake, Caoimhe, be careful. Now is no' the time te be reckless. Keep up wi' the alcohol washin' and make sure te boil yer masks frequently."
"I will, Auntie. Anythin' else?" she asked me.
"Captain Leonard will likely interrogate ye, askin' ye my whereaboots. He kens who I am, but he doesnae ken my true name. Make sure it stays tha' way. Dinnae lie te the English, just… scew the truth, a wee bit. Only say what is necessary. Ye dinnae ken where I am, which is true. Ye suspect I might've jumped, but ye dinnae ken where I am. Tha's the truth as well," I told her, and she nodded.
"Promise me ye'll be careful, Auntie. Can ye fall in such a way that doesnae hurt the bairn?"
"I can tuck my skirts up a bit te provide some extra paddin'," I told her, and then I embraced her firmly. "Please be careful, Caoimhe. I ken ye will, but mind yer surroundin's at all times. Now go, I dinnae want te arouse suspicion. I'll see ye in Jamaica, aye?" She pulled back from our embrace and nodded.
"I'll see ye in Jamaica. I hope ye find Uncle Jamie quickly before ye get there," Caoimhe said to me, and then she was gone, leaving Annekje and I alone.
"Must jump now," Annekje told me after a moment. "Water move, it take you Co-Burn. Here raft. It help you float." She picked up the floatation device she had made out of pieces of wood and rope and tossed it overboard, the makeshift raft floating on the waves. "Must go, or husband hang."
"Aye, I ken. Thank ye verra much, Annekje, fer everrathin'. Now I must ask one more thing of ye… Will ye look after my niece fer me?" I asked her.
" Ja , I see after girl," she said, and then she gestured to the water. "Go!" I nodded, then climbed up and stood on the bulkhead of the ship. Down beneath me was the inky blackness of the sea, and off in the distance, I could see the dark, looming outline of an island nearby - Hispañola, on the unpopulated side so we didn't risk infecting anyone when the ship came ashore for Annekje's goats to feed. I was somewhat fearful, and mindful of the child inside of me. If I hit the surface of the water the wrong way, I could lose my child, and losing my child could potentially kill me. Not to mention, I would likely bleed a great deal, attracting sharks and anything else that wanted to dine on me. Dinnae worry aboot that now… Focus on Jamie. Yer doin' this fer Jamie…
"Oh, Blessed Bride," I muttered quietly, and then I took a deep breath, removed my glasses and tucked them safely in my pocket so I wouldn't lose them, and jumped from the bulkhead, plunging into the inky blackness of the sea.
