“Your backside looks good in candlelight, Nico, I must say,” Elinore giggled.
“I bet you say that to all the sailors,” Fallon said as he poked the flames.
“Only to the ones who promise to marry me,” Elinore replied. “Speaking of which, perhaps we should open the wine and talk about the wedding.”
This is the moment he’d been waiting for, dreading actually, a moment when the night could grow colder. He sat at the table and faced her.
“When are you thinking it should be, love?” he asked, and something in his voice put her on notice that the conversation could take a turn she wasn’t expecting.
“When do you want it to be?” she asked, suddenly wary. “Do you want it to be later?”
“Maybe late June, I think,” he said, trying to sound normal. “When it’s warmer and the flowers are all blooming.”
“Late June is fine, Nico. But something is on your mind that you’re not saying. Tell me. Do you still want to be married?” She held her breath.
“More than anything in my life,” he said, and said it like he meant it. She exhaled.
“But…?” she asked.
“No, no but,” he said, unconvincingly. “I’m just worried about Caleb Visser, I think. He’s been on my mind a bit. That’s all you’re seeing.”
“What are you worried about, Nico?”
“Ahem,” he began.
“Ahem,” again.
Then: “I have been reading quite a bit about the Barbary situation. It’s very complicated and could be extremely dangerous. I hope Caleb knows what he’s getting into, is all. He’ll probably be fine and it will all turn out well, but… well, that’s it.”
There, it was out. He’d said it out loud and now he winced in the darkness, afraid to look at the woman he loved for fear she knew what was coming next.
“And…” she said. Wanting him to get it all out, whatever was bothering him, put it on the table next to the wine and cheese. Come on, Nico.
“And, I’m worried that he’s a cod fisherman, really, and not prepared for what he might find over there. It… it could be beyond him, all alone like that.”
“You want to take Caleb to Algiers to get his father, is that where this is going?” she asked, knowing that’s exactly where it was going.
A silence. The fire glowed red and the wine stood unopened on the table.
“What about the wedding, Nico?” Elinore asked, barely masking her sadness.
“If I start now I believe I can be back in plenty of time for the wedding,” answered Fallon, knowing full well that Elinore knew that wind and sea were unpredictable. But, in truth, he was worried about missing Visser in English Harbor more than he was worried about missing the wedding. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been, and it was not something he wanted to admit to Elinore. But ships came and went from English Harbor frequently and Visser could get lucky and find one quickly and then finding him on the Atlantic would be difficult, if not impossible. As with so much at sea, there was not a moment to lose.
“Nico,” said Elinore, a sadness in her voice now. Her mother was long dead and her father would be useless to help her plan a wedding. Fallon wasn’t supposed to be going anywhere. “There are a million details to a wedding. I thought you would be here to help me. I always imagined it would be fun to plan it together.”
There was nothing he could say to that, and he didn’t try. Whether he would actually add anything to the planning or not was really beside the point, and he knew it.
“Tell me why, Nico. Why do you have to go?” she asked with full eyes.
It was a simple answer, and yet it wasn’t. Fallon would be putting himself and his crew into danger, perhaps grave danger. He now knew enough to know that much. But the problem was that Caleb Visser didn’t know what he didn’t know. He could be innocently sailing into the maw of the lion on a noble mission to save his father, and everything in Fallon’s body said that neither of them would come back alive.
“It… it’s what I feel I should do,” he said simply, knowing it was inadequate but absolutely true. “I promised Caleb when we rescued him that he would find his father. And that I would stand behind him. Frankly, I never expected he would find his gold.”
Elinore stared at the ceiling. This is not how she imagined the next few months would go. Fallon had been away so much, and now he was choosing to go away again. And who could know if he would even be back by their wedding day? That sent her lower still and tears ran down her cheeks and into her ears. She was about to get up and get dressed to leave when she looked at him sitting at the table looking sadder than she’d ever seen him. Terribly sad, and naked.
In spite of her hurt and anger her heart went out to him. Perhaps he really could be back in time if he left right away. And maybe, in the scheme of things, planning a wedding didn’t compare to what he felt he had to do to protect their friend.
“Perhaps I could wait a few days, Elinore, and we could begin plan–”
“No, Nico, you have a ship to get ready to sail,” Elinore interrupted, raising up on one elbow. “So I have a better idea. I’m going with you to English Harbor. At least we’ll have a little more time together and I can ask Paloma to help me plan the wedding. She’s the one person I can think to ask.” It was true that Elinore and Paloma were great friends. No doubt Paloma would be more than happy to help.
But … was all Fallon could think to say, and then he thought better of even saying that. Elinore was giving him what he needed, as she so often did, and asking very little in return. He looked at her with love and astonishment. He could see she was obviously disappointed, but she had fought for clear air, and instead of making it difficult for him, she’d made it easy. Somehow his deep appreciation and respect for her went deeper still and when he opened his mouth no words would immediately come.
“Don’t,” she said, holding up a finger. “I will never keep you from doing what you think is right. Just take me along on the way, please. Include me in your heroic ideas, Nico, if we’re going to have a life together.”
And then she opened her arms and pulled him back to the bed again and very soon Fallon couldn’t imagine sailing to English Harbor or anywhere else without her.
TWENTY-SIX
TWO DAYS OUT OF BERMUDA LITTLE EDDY STEPPED OUT FROM HIS hiding spot in Loire’s hold and climbed up the ladder into the sunshine. He’d finished all the food and water he had brought aboard and was hungry and thirsty. He was also quite pale from sea sickness, but otherwise seemed none the worse for his time below decks.
Aja and Caleb Visser were thunderstruck.
“Little Eddy!” Visser exclaimed. “What on earth? You’ve been hiding below this whole time? Come here then!” Little Eddy walked rather forlornly towards the binnacle, his head down, expecting a tongue lashing or worse. But rather than berate the boy, Visser stared at the bedraggled youth a few moments, and then hugged him.
After getting past the shock of finding a stowaway on board his ship, Aja could only shake his head and smile. Not so long ago he’d hidden aboard a ship just like Little Eddy had done. He knew the fear of being found, the lonely blackness of the hold and the nibbling of rats as you slept, although if he’d been found he would have been killed. Or worse.
“Little Eddy,” Aja said to the boy, who was still embraced by Visser, “how on earth did you get aboard?”
Little Eddy smiled brightly, for it certainly appeared he was not going to be punished, at least not immediately.
“I just swam out to the ship, sirs!” he said, relieved. And then he added, “My mum knows I’ve gone.”
This was certainly true, as far as it went, so Little Eddy felt he was not actually lying. And then he quickly added, “I’m old enough to be on my own!” before anyone had a chance to question him about his mother. A clever boy, Little Eddy.
“All well and good, young man,” said Visser, not unkindly. “But then why not simply ask to come along?”
“I was afraid you’d say no,” an
swered Little Eddy in a flash. “I want to be a sailor!” Answering the question of why he’d left home before it was even asked.
Aja and Visser looked at each other, then at Little Eddy, and then back to each other again. Aja shrugged first. Well, what was to be done? It appeared they had a new hand on board to English Harbor.
Little Eddy was fed by the ship’s cook and given a hammock to sling below decks. He already knew most of the men from time spent working on the ship, and they winked to one another when the boy came by, for many of them had gone to sea the same way. At the same age. For the same reasons.
“What do you think, Aja?” asked Visser as they walked around the ship together later that evening. “I assume you’ll take him back with you to Bermuda?”
Aja was wondering the same thing. And, once again as he did with every situation at sea, he asked himself: What would Fallon do? He had no real answer, but his instinct told him to take Little Eddy back home. He couldn’t very well leave him in English Harbor, alone. Meanwhile, the boy would be put to work.
Loire bounded along with a favorable slant of wind out of the northeast, day and night throwing up spray and making good her course to English Harbor. Aja felt he knew exactly where they were, for the noon sights were easy under a beautiful blue sky. Little Eddy worked into the ship’s routine as a ship’s boy, getting on easily with the crew and seeming to relish his adventure. If he was homesick, he didn’t show it.
At last, Loire entered English Harbor under reduced sail and a British pendant, creeping to her anchorage at the head of the harbor near a ship Aja recognized easily, HMS Avenger, 74, Admiral Harry Davies. The last time Aja had been in English Harbor, Beauty had been in the naval hospital there, horribly wounded by a large splinter in her chest, fighting for her life. He had been a recently promoted second mate aboard Rascal, and now he returned in command of a ship! A temporary command, to be sure, but he was standing quite proudly as he pointed out the harbor’s landmarks to Visser and the omnipresent Little Eddy.
He determined to get the anchor down as quickly as possible and then pay his respects to Admiral Davies. The admiral would want to know about Fallon and Beauty, of course, and Aja could make plans to introduce him to Caleb Visser, who would want to ask after a ship bound for Southern Europe.
He looked around at the little harbor, at the homes and shops and government buildings. It was all pleasingly familiar to him. He thought of Paloma Campos here, the beautiful Cuban loyalist whom Fallon had rescued from prison in Matanzas on the eve of her execution. Here, too, were Dr. and Señora Garón, without whose skill and prayers Beauty wouldn’t be alive. So many memories of this place, all happy.
His eyes came back aboard and fell on Caleb Visser standing in the bows of the ship, searching the harbor for foreign flagged ships that might be leaving soon. The first leg of his journey to find his father was complete. He would be understandably relieved and nervous at the same time, for the next leg would take him to the other side of the world. He watched Little Eddy come up from below to see the sights—Little Eddy, who no doubt already thought he was on the other side of the world just being in a strange harbor away from Bermuda. Aja watched him and thought of his own journey to this place, his own wonder at each new harbor.
He ordered the sails furled and the ship drifted to her anchorage not far from Avenger. In very little time the anchor was down and his second independent command was over.
TWENTY-SEVEN
RASCAL PLUNGED ALONG ON A BOWLINE, CLOSE-HAULED ON LARBOARD, for the wind had stubbornly come east southeast and remained there day and night. Since English Harbor was almost due south from Bermuda, putting the ship about to tack against the wind and sail on starboard took them further away from their destination. Barclay fretted about it but the wind was the wind and didn’t care about his fretting, apparently. For his part, Fallon had already made plans in his own mind to sail through the Mona Passage between Santo Domingo and Porto Rico to get into the Caribbean Sea. They were making leeway to the west anyway, and they were sailing as fast as they could.
When Fallon had explained the situation on the Barbary coast to Beauty while still in Bermuda, at least as far as he knew or guessed it, she was in full agreement to leave at once. The ship was well stocked from their fast passage from Boston, and within twenty-four hours Beauty had everything else aboard that was needed.
Fallon and Elinore were to be found either walking on deck or, if thrashing to windward became too wet, snuggled on the stern cushions in his cabin. Elinore talked about the wedding often, trying to engage Fallon in planning, if just a little. But Fallon mostly nodded yes and was content to spend much of each day dozing in Elinore’s arms. Beauty kept the ship moving without his help, knowing there was important business being done down below.
Rascal ate up the miles, always and forever on larboard, and the men grew accustomed to it and tended to lean a certain way, walk the decks a certain way and even eat and drink a certain way, for there was no tacking to relieve the angle of the deck. Still, the ship’s routine was in full effect and the hands went to their duties with unquestioning obedience.
On the third day at sea Fallon took a stroll around deck to satisfy himself that all was well. Always alert for any unrest in the crew, he chatted amiably with those on watch and knew that everything was as it should be. Beauty seemed happy enough, as well, reveling in Rascal’s performance as she continued to coax every ounce of speed out of the ship just as she had when racing skiffs on St. George’s harbor. It was simply the way she liked to sail; in fact, insisted on sailing. And Barclay was allowed on deck more often by Colquist, walking with the aid of a cane to keep his balance, getting on well enough, it seemed. The carpenter had made a special wooden shelf and attached it to the binnacle to hold the slate so Barclay could write upon it with one hand when he was able to resume most of his duties. So it was a happy ship that bounded along like a hound after a rabbit.
“Nico,” said Barclay after Fallon had taken a noon sight and they had conferred on their position. “I believe we will sight Porto Rico’s western headland tomorrow morning and slip into the Mona Passage by noon. You are familiar with the Mona Passage, I know, having sailed through it a number of times.”
“Yes,” said Fallon. “I have been through it before. But no matter how many times I’ve sailed it I must say it has never been the same passage twice. Why I don’t know.”
“It is a strange body of water, without question,” said Barclay. “Not always dangerous, but far from certain. The currents sometimes run against the wind in winter and produce high seas. And the wind can be northeast to southeast, or both in a day!”
Fallon had experienced the high seas in the Mona Passage and knew that, although it was ninety miles wide, it could be treacherous for an inattentive captain. He had known of sailors who said the land on either side of the passage shook on occasion, with coconuts falling from the trees. Whether from the wind or something else, they couldn’t say. But Rascal had sailed through before without incident so at least part of the reports about the earth shaking and mysterious currents he put down to myth.
Late that afternoon Beauty joined him and Elinore for dinner and, as always, it was like family.
“Beauty,” asked Elinore while the wine was being poured. “I would like to ask you a question, if I may.”
“Anything, Elinore, as long as it’s not about Nico. Because if you ask me about him I’ll ask you about him and we both might end up knowing more than we wish we did.”
They all laughed at that, not least because it was probably true.
“I want to ask if you’ll be my maid of honor, Beauty,” said Elinore with a smile.
Beauty was thunderstruck.
“Why, I’ve never been called a maid, or even a maiden,” she said, smiling herself. “And yes, it would be an honor. So I accept, Elinore! Thank you.”
A careful observer might have noticed the emotion in Beauty’s voice and Elinore, of course, was a careful observer. F
or Fallon’s part, he was just happy Beauty had said yes. It was another wedding detail taken care of, albeit an important one for Elinore.
The next morning Porto Rico lay off the larboard bow as Barclay had forecast. He was quite proud of himself, and accepted Beauty’s and Fallon’s congratulations for the accuracy of his navigation.
It was a beautiful morning, warm and clear, and a shout from the masthead directed the crew’s attention to a pod of humpback whales sounding not a cable’s distance away. It was a glorious sight, their bodies arching magnificently and the spray from their blowholes shooting fifty feet in the air. Everything seemed wonderfully right with the world as Fallon looked around the deck before going below to have breakfast with Elinore. Soon Beauty would be loosening the sails just a bit to bring them into the passage and he planned to be back on deck for that. He had just turned to go below when a hail came from the lookout.
“Deck there!” came the call. “Looks like a ship’s boat off the starboard bow!”
Beauty and Barclay had just been conferring at the binnacle and Beauty reached for her telescope as Fallon joined them. Nothing was to be seen yet from the deck, of course, particularly a small boat on the water.
“Fall down to leeward, Beauty,” said Fallon. “Let’s see what we have here.”
Elinore had been below but heard the lookout’s hail and came on deck, standing unobtrusively off to the side. This was Nico’s business and it wouldn’t do to get too close. Besides, she enjoyed watching him do his captain’s work.
After another quarter mile the bobbing boat could be seen from the deck, off to the southwest, but no one seemed to be aboard. It was not completely unknown to come across a ship’s boat adrift; there could be plenty of explanations for that. But, of course, the fact that this was the Mona Passage added a layer of mystery which Fallon fought not to think about.
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