The First Sin

by Jessica Brawner

  Charles waived his hand in what he hoped was a casual manner, as he seethed inside at the presumption. Bad enough to be saddled with a priest who was likely a spy, now the man was ordering about the crew from Charles’s own quarters.

  “I feel that perhaps we have gotten off on the wrong foot, Captain. I am only here to help and to council if needed. Clément is most disturbed by this theft, and it is more a reflection of his temperament that I am here, than any commentary on your skill.” The man looked sincere; Charles would give him that.

  Nodding Charles poured himself a cup of wine from the ewer. “Father Michael, being recalled to Rome, whether it be for censure or to add you to my crew has ensured that I have lost several days in the pursuit of Captain Jac. We must make up that time quickly if there is any hope in catching her. There is already a spy among my crew. If you are truly here to help, then I will accept your assistance gratefully. If you are here to spy, then kindly stay out of the way so I can do my job.”

  Father Michael smiled into his cup. “Perhaps I can be of some assistance in the matter of the spy among your crew. Put about that you don’t trust me, and you dislike the interference of my presence – both of which I assume are probably true anyway – and I will ferret out who among your crew is the spy. It will keep me out of your way, give me something to do, and perhaps ingratiate you with the rest of the crew more thoroughly.”

  Charles gave the priest a sidelong glance. “Why would you volunteer to help me? That is most certainly not why the Holy Father sent you.”

  “The Vatican is full of intrigue, my son, and building alliances is sometimes all that keeps one alive. We could be powerful allies in protecting the church. Or perhaps I want to see what you are capable of, so I can report back. Or both. At the moment, my reasons are my own.” Father Michael took another sip of wine, and his gaze never wavered from Charles’s own.

  “Very well.” Charles said, not feeling that he had much choice. “Find the spy, and I will find Captain Jac, and we will see where this all takes us.”

  Jacqueline

  Pain can be a great motivator. I hurt. All of me hurt. I opened my eyes to find the world tilted at a crazy angle. My brain centered itself on the greatest regions of my pain: my arm, my side, my head. My eyes refused to focus; everything seemed blurry and distant. I touched my forehead with my good hand, and it came away sticky with blood. Moving my other arm I nearly passed out with pain. I took a few deep breaths trying calm myself.

  I was upside down, still in The Inara’s harness. The straps bit into my shoulders but kept me from falling to the ground ten or so feet below. One arm felt broken, I couldn't tell how badly. When I reached to touch the area of pain on my side, I felt a slow seeping of blood. Wrapping my good arm through one of the straps I braced my feet and pulled the emergency release for the harness. I felt the harness release, and as carefully as I could, righted myself. I dangled briefly before letting go and falling to the ground. I landed hard, and blacked out.

  I woke with the sun noticeably higher than before—a shaft of light had briefly blinded me. Blinking and groaning I rolled over. I staggered to my feet with the help of the tree. The effort left me sweating and nauseous.

  I appeared to be in the middle of a forest. There wasn't a path as far as I could see, and The Inara was at least ten feet up in the tree, hanging pitifully upside down, one of the wings broken at a crazy angle. A few items from her saddle bags had fallen to the ground. I spotted my towel a few feet away, and one of my knives beside it, along with a few other odds and ends.

  Working one handed with the knife I cut the towel into several long strips. One of these I wound around my midsection, trying to put pressure on the wound in my side. I could do no more than tuck the ends in. I took the second strip and wound it around my broken arm, trying not to look at the jagged fragments of bone sticking out from the skin. Creating a sling without assistance was beyond me, so I draped the other strip of towel around my neck and tried to stand again. The blackness at the edges of my vision threatened to overwhelm me, and I closed my eyes, willing the world to stop spinning.

  Staggering from one tree to the next, I tried to stay on my feet going in a vaguely east direction. I hadn't made much progress when I heard voices. Stumbling, I slid to the ground, my back against the tree.

  "Hey Belkin, any luck with the mushrooms?" A cheerful voice cried out.

  "No, something's got Daisy spooked today. Can't get her to focus at all," a male voice replied.

  They were close by, so I pulled myself into a small hollow nearby to remain unseen. They sounded like farmers, but I was loath to reveal myself. The choice was taken from me; a small pig came to the edge of the hollow and began squealing.

  "Sounds like Daisy's found something!" one of the men shouted.

  "Let's go see what she's got. I thought she'd be done for the day what with that commotion around dawn."

  I saw two shadows moving at the top of the rim, coming to find Daisy. The pig, seeing me, or perhaps smelling blood, came to investigate. I felt a nose rooting around in my side and tried to push her away.

  "What have we here?" One of the shadows blocked the light, and I opened my eyes to see a beard covered face staring down at me.

  "Help?" I asked weakly before fainting.

  I woke sometime later in a rough bed. Daisy the pig was asleep in a pen across the room, and there was a woman standing in the doorway regarding me with disapproval.

  "I have set your arm and bandaged it. It's probably for the best that you slept through it. The wound in your side needs stitches, though."

  I nodded, wincing. I had a splitting headache and tried to sit up. She pressed me firmly down against the bed. "Stay here. Let me look at the other wound."

  One handed, I raised my shirt, carefully looking at the ceiling, or anything other than the wound in my side. I couldn't tell, but it felt fairly serious. Looking it over, she nodded and tsked. "Yes, I must take care of this as well."

  She handed me a smooth piece of bone about six inches long. "Bite down. This will hurt." She washed it first in salt water, and I screamed. The salt burned and stung down to my very core. Then she sluiced it with fresh water. I could see the blood running freely, staining the water red, as well as the cloth she used to stanch the bleeding. She took out a needle and thread and eyed me briefly.

  "Do I need to have them hold you down, or tie you to the bed?" She held up the needle glinting in the light.

  The pain from the salt got worse, and I felt sure I was going to black out again. "You will not need to hold me down. I've been stitched before."

  "I can see,” she grudgingly replied, “but please hold on to the bed board at least. I don't want your hands to get in my way."

  It hurt. The gash on my side turned out to be both longer and deeper than I expected. As she stitched me up, between gasps of pain I asked about where we were.

  "Currently you are in that idiot's cabin." She nodded her head in the direction of a closed door. "That idiot of course is my husband, Belkin. He claims our pig found you in the woods." I started to nod in agreement and thought better of the idea. She didn't seem at all pleased at my being here.

  "And where is here?" I asked, counting beams in the ceiling to take my mind off the stitching.

  She looked at me strangely. "You don't know?"

  "My airhopper crashed not far from where your husband found me. I have no idea where I am."

  She patted my cheek. "Oh, you poor dear. You are on the Isla de Ponza. And from the look of it, likely to stay here for a while. That arm has a nasty break, and the bump on your head is quite large. Not to mention," she gestured down at the gash in my side. "It is a good thing my Belkin found you. I expect you would have bled to death if he had not happened upon you."

  "What was he doing in the forest?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the pain.

  "He was looking for mushrooms. Our Daisy has a nose for them. It's the wrong season, but once in a while she'll find a late b
loom of them. They are quite tasty in fish soup."

  She stopped talking for a bit, concentrating on her stitching. The needle felt like a fiery hot poker every time she took a stitch, and I was missing Henri's painkillers by the time she was done, but the stitches were small and neat and held the flesh together.

  "You rest. My Belkin will go see what he can salvage from your air carrier and be back before dark."

  "What … what is your name?" I managed to ask through the haze of pain.

  "Oh, I am Donna Maria. Now you sleep. We will talk more later." She held an evil smelling concoction to my lips until I sipped it and fell back into restless dreams. I had vague memories of waking thusly several times, but everything was hazy and unreal, and every time her vile concoction was at my lips. Monsters chased me through my dreams wearing Charles's face. I heard voices speaking a dire language I didn't recognize, and then I was dropped into a clear and terrifying dream. I stood in a temple of pale stone. A great seal covered the floor, etched in the sandstone, with markings highlighted in gold. There was a horrific cracking sound and the great seal was rent down the middle. Dust and fire swirled around me, and through it all I could see the head of a great beast rise, first one, then two, continuing until six foul creatures stood upon the stone. My heart thudded in my chest, and I fled the sight, but no matter which way I turned, six beasts with glowing, fiery eyes followed me.

  I wrenched myself out of the dream, breathing heavily. My eyelids felt heavy as lead. I could make out the hazy shapes of Donna Maria and Belkin arguing. Donna Maria was gesturing angrily towards me, and Belkin was wringing his hat in his hands. I closed my eyes again, willing the pounding in my head to stop. I fell back into troubling dreams where a foreboding Charles held me in chains with Donna Maria forcing foul smelling drinks down my throat.

  I woke up. My head felt clearer than it had in days, though my arm was still excruciating, and my side still throbbed. Moving my broken arm hurt, but I slid it over until I could feel the inside of my good elbow. My tracker was still intact, David had programed it so The Indiana could track me, if they were close enough. With light examination using my good hand, I could tell the bump on my head was somewhat smaller, and while still nauseous, I was hungry. There didn't seem to be anyone in the cabin with me at the moment, so I tried to sit up slowly and look around. Daisy's pen was empty, and I could see the cabin wasn't quite so small as I first thought. It was a small room, with a stove in one corner beside an open hearth, and a hand pump with a spigot directed inside for water. I was lying on a box bed, the only other piece of furniture in the room was a small table with two chairs. There appeared to be a door leading deeper into the house, and then the door leading out to the yard that I had seen when I first awoke. Looking down, I could see daylight between the floorboard, which were none too close together. There was a crawl space beneath the house, probably for the pig during the hotter months.

  I heard voices outside arguing. Standing slowly, I inched my way over to the window beside the door. David and Henri were standing in the yard arguing with Donna Maria. Relief made my knees go weak at the sight of them.

  Moving slowly, I unlatched the door and opened it, staggering into the yard.

  David spotted me in the doorway first, pushing past Donna Maria. "Jac! Oh my god! You're hurt! What happened? This woman swore you weren't here and wouldn't let us in."

  "Captain. Let me have a look at you, then we'll get back to the ship. She clearly didn't want to tell us you were here, but I have no idea why." Henri gestured to Donna Maria who was glowering from the yard.

  “Señora these men – they are ruffians! You must not go with them. They appeared out of nowhere and they do not look trustworthy.” Donna Maria scowled at the two men.

  "Donna Maria, I assure you they are quite trustworthy. They are members of my crew, and I am very happy to see them. Now that they are here, can we pay you in some way for your trouble? You and your husband have been very generous."

  She perked up a bit. "You have used up all of my medicines and my resources. Belkin has had to go seek work elsewhere because we had not enough to eat with you in the house."

  I coughed into my fist. I didn't think I had been there that long, nor had I eaten anything but that vile potion, but I was hardly going to argue. She had saved my life. "I am sure we can adequately recompense you for your troubles, Donna Maria. Shall we bring back food and medicines from our ship?"

  She got a crafty look in her eyes I didn't like. "Perhaps you could take me to your ship and I could pick out what we best need?"

  "We will go and return with plenty of supplies to feed you and your husband," I replied.

  She harrumphed. "You will leave, and not return and we will starve."

  Still dizzy with pain and sweating with the effort I coughed again. "That seems unlikely. Henri, how far is the airhopper?”

  “Too far for you to walk, Captain. David and I put her down in a clearing not far from the wreckage of The Inara. Given that you can barely stand, I don’t think you could navigate the path through the forest,” Henri replied, eyeing me critically.

  "David, can you get The Thorin and bring her here, so that the Captain can get safely aboard?” A part of me was surprised at the normally quiet Henri taking charge with authoritative efficiency.

  Henri did not wait for David’s reply before turning to me. “I must look at your wounds. I'm sure Donna Maria, has done a most excellent job, but as your physician I need to look at them immediately."

  I coughed again, sending a stabbing pain through my side as phlegm rattled in my chest. Donna Maria hmphed. “You will leave and then you will not pay.”

  “We will stay long enough for the airhopper to return, and you will get your payment,” Henri said with patience. “And in the meantime, I must examine the Captain.”

  David looked pained. "Jac, I don’t want to leave you."

  "I will be right here when you return, and Henri will have had time to look me over and see what else needs to be patched up. Please David?" Another coughing fit took me, and the world started to swim. I braced myself against the doorway, willing my legs to hold me upright. The thought of staying here longer was nearly unbearable, but I wasn’t sure I could walk across the small yard in front of the house. Making it through the forest to The Thorin was out of the question.

  He nodded reluctantly. "Donna Maria, I will be back within the hour. I hope you will allow us to impose on your hospitality for a small bit longer."

  She nodded graciously as any queen in a palace, only her eyes showing her avaricious nature. "Yes of course. I will make sure they are here when you return."

  David kissed me on the forehead, then turned and left.

  Henri put an arm under my good shoulder and helped me back into the hut. "Donna Maria, can you please boil some water?"

  "The pan is on the stove, and the water beside it. Boil your own," was her surly reply.

  Henri looked at the squalid conditions within the hut, noting the pig pen and shook his head. "She's charming," was his only comment.

  "Well, she did clean and dress my wounds, and set my arm. At least I hope she set my arm. But she does lack your charming bedside manner. She's been feeding me some foul potion for several days, but I have no idea what was in it." I eased down onto one of the sturdy chairs as Henri put the water on to boil, beads of sweat standing out on my forehead and the feeling of lightheadedness coming over me again. “How is Tyler? Is he?” I feared what Henri might say.

  “Recovering. Though he lost a lot of blood. Everyone else is fine.”

  While the water heated he came to inspect my wounds, unwinding the dressing on my side. It stuck, clotted with blood, and he used a pair of shears to cut away as much of it as he could. "I'll have to soak the rest of it off Captain. It doesn't look good." He waited impatiently for the water to boil, then dipped a cloth from his bag into the boiling water, holding it up to cool briefly. He pressed it against the matted bandage and I hissed in pain, but held
my tongue. When the bandage finally peeled away it revealed a wound some six inches long with a putrid smell coming off it.

  Henri cursed, using some language I was sure he had picked up from Marie. Looking down I could see red lines trailing away from the wound, and a pus filled, festering mass where it was centered. "This is going to hurt. A lot."

  He took a scalpel and dipped it in the boiling water then pressed it against the infected flesh. A line of puss and blood ran out, following the trail of his scalpel. I was sweating and weak, on the verge of passing out by the time he handed me another hot cloth. "Hold this against the wound for a moment. No, don't look at it again," he instructed as I started to glance down. "I promise, you don't want to see it."

  "I'm going to look at your arm next. You focus on holding this cloth against your side, okay?" I nodded, my eyes glazed with pain.

  He unwrapped the bandage and splint around my arm, cradling it gently, pressing the tips of my fingers to see if there was blood flow. The arm looked nasty, a mass of swelling and black and red marks across it. He set it gently on the table. "Don't move, Captain, I want to get a hot cloth for this as well." Returning with a steaming rag he placed it gently over the arm.

  "The arm is not so bad as it looks. I will need to put a proper cast on it when we get back to the ship, but for the time being I will re-splint it. The swelling and marking is normal for what it's been through. The one in your side however is quite nasty."

  He let the cloth sit on my arm for a few moments then removed it, sprinkling a foul-smelling powder over the cuts and the places where the bone had pierced the skin. "Ugh, what is that?" I asked, turning my head away.

  "Sulfa powder. I wish I had something stronger." He felt along the arm gently, nodding. "It was well set, now we just have to worry about keeping it free of infection."

  Dazed as I was by pain, I didn't even bother to curse as he began re-wrapping it. When he was done, he dried the wound in my side and looked at me. "I need to wash this out with alcohol. It's going to hurt."