Esther's Innocence

by Benjamin Boswell

  Oluchi stepped forward and his fist lashed out, catching Ikenna in the side of the mouth, knocking him to the ground, his mouth bloody.

  “Enough!” roared Amadi, standing abruptly, “Oluchi, get out! Keobere-osote Ikenna, you will maintain a civil tongue or I’ll let Oluchi cut it out the next time, do you understand?”

  Ikenna brought his shackled hands up to his mouth and said a muffled, “Yes, sir.”

  Oluchi looked at Ikenna with death in his eyes, then turned and walked out.

  “Do you have anything else to say?” Amadi asked Ikenna, gruffly as the keobere-osote got up from the ground.

  “No sir, like I told you last night, I only gave her what she asked me for,” Ikenna replied.

  A pit opened in her stomach. He sounded so convincing, so sure—almost like he believed it himself. Esther had already been convinced that Captain Amadi wouldn’t believe her. Now that Ikenna seemed so convincing and so sure in his testimony, she began to believe and be very frightened that Captain Amadi would let him go—especially given the fact that Amadi already thought she was telling stories about jumping off of airships and grandiose assassination plots.

  “All of the relevant evidence has been gathered and presented to me,” said Captain Amadi, “I have heard testimony from each of you, or your representatives, independently and together. Now you have heard them from each other as well. I have one question left for the accused.”

  Esther’s tension rose with each passing second and she held her breath, waiting.

  “Keobere-osote Ikenna,” said Amadi, “if she came to you voluntarily, then why did you disarm her by taking her knife from its scabbard where it was secured, and throw it down the hallway?”

  There was silence for a moment and Esther looked at Ikenna. He had a blank look on his face, like a child caught in the act of stealing a cookie.

  “I…uh…,” he stammered, “I was afraid…uh…in case she didn’t like…,” he trailed off when he saw the hard look in Captain Amadi’s eyes.

  The Captain’s shoulders sank as if a huge weight had been placed upon them. “I find the accused guilty as charged,” he said, “The accused will be stripped of all rank, rights, and privileges and discharged from service, to be held on the Merchant Ship Ngozi, until such time as he can be remitted to a prison work camp, where he will remain until his debt to society is repaid. In addition, Ikenna has forfeited any pay he would be entitled to for this voyage, therefore, we are providing his entire pay to Miss Esther Kelley as restitution for what he has done. Because the accused maintains that the act was consensual, no other crimes of a sexual nature have been recorded in his records, and there were no other direct witnesses of the crime, this court acknowledges that there remains a degree of error or uncertainty even though no reasonable doubt exists. Therefore, the sentence of castration is suspended at this time, as set forth in the law.”

  “But sir,” Ikenna yelled in protest, “I—”

  “That’s enough, Ikenna!” interrupted the Captain, his voice stern, “Do not think for a moment that because I suspended the last sentence that I believe for a second that you didn’t do exactly what she said you did.” The Captain was almost yelling now as he pointed his finger at Esther. “The law suspends that last sentence to protect the rare occurrence when an innocent is convicted, but I don’t believe you are innocent. I only recognize that I am human and fallible. Therefore, we will follow the law to its letter.”

  Ikenna blanched at the Captain’s angry tone, then looked down at the ground dejectedly.

  “Remove the prisoner and return him to the brig,” said the Captain.

  Esther realized that she had been holding her breath and gasped for air, her legs shaking so badly that she almost fell. The two guards escorted Ikenna from the room.

  Nkiru turned to her and gave her a hug. He believed me. It was as if a huge burden had lifted from her shoulders. Ikenna would not go free. She was stuck on the same ship with him for the time being, but he would not go free.

  Captain Amadi came up to her and she could see the sorrow in his eyes.

  “Esther,” he said, “I cannot express to you the sorrow I feel for what happened to you while you were onboard my ship. It was my responsibility and I failed to keep you safe.”

  Esther started to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but Amadi held up his hand.

  “Please,” he said, “let me continue. Our purser will withdraw the coin from our treasury to pay you Ikenna’s forfeited wages, as was stipulated in my verdict. You and I will discuss my own responsibility later, but right now, my wife Adaeze is dying to see you. She couldn’t come see you before because, as Captain, I have to remain fair and unbiased, and if she had come to you last night, or this morning before the verdict, it would have appeared to the crew that I was biased,” the captain gave her a little half-smile, “It will be many nights before she forgives me for allowing this to happen to you—and for my insistence that she wait to see you.”

  Esther nodded. She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts, then looked up at Amadi. “Onya-Ugbo—Captain. I understand the responsibility that a Captain has for those onboard his ship. But I also understand that there was no way you could have known that he would do this beforehand. Like you said, he had no record of such crimes. As much as I feel like blaming you for what he did to me, it would be…wrong of me to do so.”

  “It is gracious of you to say that,” Amadi said, “Regardless, I am responsible for the conduct of my crew and I will provide you some form of restitution. It will not be enough, but I will do what I can.”

  With that, he walked over to the door in the aft wall and opened it. Adaeze, resplendent as ever, stood on the other side, her right hand to her lips, biting her fingernails in a very un-Adaeze-like fashion. She looked up and saw Esther, and—with tears in her eyes—she hurried over to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. For a moment, Esther froze in panic as Adaeze’s arms wrapped around her own, pinning them down and her mind flashed back to the assault. Adaeze must have felt her tense up because she quickly let go and stepped back.

  “I’m sorry,” said Adaeze, “I shouldn’t have hugged you like that without asking you first. I just…” Her voice trailed off.

  Esther took a deep breath and forced her mind back to the present. It took a lot of effort, but after a moment, she was able to look into Adaeze’s eyes and give a brief half-smile. Then she stepped forward and gave Adaeze a quick hug.

  “It’s all right, Adaeze,” she said as they separated, “It’s just…going to take me some time.”

  A tear dropped free of Adaeze’s eyes as she nodded, and she held a hand to her lip to stifle her crying. “Please let me know if there is anything I can do, alright?” Adaeze asked.

  Esther nodded, then turned to go. Just before she left the office, she turned back to Adaeze, then looked at Amadi.

  “There is one thing you can do for me, Adaeze,” said Esther.

  “What’s that?”

  “Forgive your husband,” said Esther, then turned and walked out.

  - - -

  It had taken a lot of hand gesturing, but Esther was finally able to convince Nkiru that she was all right and just wanted some time to herself for a little while. Esther didn’t really want to be alone—not when she was still onboard the same ship as Ikenna—but she just didn’t want Nkiru to feel like she needed to be at Esther’s side every moment. Joel and Mac had left earlier to begin preparations to leave as soon as they reached Deyr.

  For the moment, Esther stood alone on the deck, crewmembers moving round about, seeing to various tasks. Esther noticed that she was gripping her dagger so tightly that here knuckles were turning white. She forced herself to let go of it and just breathe. She should be focusing on what she was going to say to the Hadiqan officials in Deyr. She didn’t want to spend her time and energy focusing on trying not to panic if someone gave her a hug. Or calming down from nightmares. Or what it would mean if she missed her next monthly cycle. Oh heavens! Wh
at would she do if that happened? What if there was a child?!

  Her heart was beating rapidly and she started to sway on her feet. Esther closed her eyes and tried to clear her thoughts as best she could. She took deep breaths, counting each inhalation and exhalation, until her racing heart slowed down. It took several minutes, but she finally felt like she had it under control. When she opened her eyes, she felt a little better. It was then that she noticed Oluchi up near the bow of the ship, leaning against the solid railing and staring off into the distance.

  Esther walked along the deck until she stood next to him. He turned and looked at her, his eyes unreadable as ever. They stood in silence for a moment. Finally, Esther spoke, “I wanted to thank you, Oluchi…for making Ikenna stop saying those awful things about me in Amadi’s office. I know that it will probably get you in trouble, but it meant a lot to me.”

  He looked at her a moment, then nodded and replied, “You are welcome.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Men like him are what wrong with world.”

  Esther nodded, leaning her elbows on the railing. After another moment, she spoke, sharing thoughts that she hadn’t felt she could share before. “I should have been more careful.” She paused. “I shouldn’t have joined the keobere-osote for their classes. I shouldn’t have let myself be so vulnerable…I should have fought more. I should have been ready, I—” Suddenly, tears were streaming down her cheeks and she shook her head in disgust at herself. She was crying again! She was so sick of crying.

  Oluchi turned to her and took her gently by the hand.

  “Esther,” he said in his accented Hadiqan, “This not your fault. Never think that. You are strong and wise and smart.”

  “No I’m not, Oluchi,” she said, pulling he hand away and wiping her eyes. “If I were stronger, I could have stopped him.”

  “No, Esther,” he said, “You could not. Sometimes things happen that we cannot change. You are strong. This not your fault. You wise to join keobere-osote lessons. You did nothing wrong, so do not blame yourself. This Ikenna’s doing, not yours. Remember what I told you. Even best warrior cannot know and do everything. Best warrior surround himself with good people. I sorry this happen to you. I sorry we not there when this happen. But we here now. Protect you now. Help you now. This not your fault.”

  “Thank you, Oluchi. You and Nkiru’s friendship and support means more to me than you can possibly understand.”

  Oluchi nodded, then sat up and slapped the railing.

  “Now,” he said, smiling, “I think it time to show you how use your dagger and my throwing knives, yes?”

  Esther wiped the last of her tears and managed a half smile. She couldn’t help it, his broad smile was infectious.

  - - -

  Esther spent the next several hours learning how to properly use her dagger. Oluchi taught her several different grips, the angles of attack, how to stand and move, and the areas of the body that she should target. They practiced attacks and defenses over and over. He was a skilled teacher.

  While practicing some of the moves, she had tried to attack him, but he deflected her blow, and she ended up pinned against the side railing, their daggers locked directly in front of her face, with his well-muscled forearm pressed up against her chest. She was amazed at how strong he was. It was then that Esther perceived him as an attractive young man about her own age. She suddenly felt flushed and knew her face was turning red. Oluchi stepped back and she dismissed the thought as they started the drills again. Now is not the time for more childish fantasies, she thought. She was already conflicted enough with possible feelings for the young doctor, and so soon after what had happened the night before—she was an emotional wreck.

  Fortunately, there was plenty to distract her from her feelings and emotions. Oluchi showed her how to use a throwing knife and they practiced throwing them at a target he setup on the deck. Her coordination was good and she hit the target more often than not, but she was going to need a lot of practice if she was going to be any good. The distraction felt good and Esther felt much better the more she practiced.

  Someone called down from the rigging and other crew members repeated the call. Esther looked over to see what was going on.

  “They say they have sighted land,” Oluchi said standing next to her. “Come, help me put equipment away. We will be at Deyr soon. You must go prepare.”

  It didn’t take them long to gather and stow the knives, targets, and other gear that they had used to practice with. Esther went below to her cabin to put the few belongings that the Easterners had given her into a bag. One nightgown and a few changes of undergarments and socks were all that she had besides the clothing she was wearing. Joel, Mac, Geoffrey, and Baird had done the same and she could hear them standing in the hallway discussing what they were going to do when they reached Deyr.

  “So it’s pretty straightforward then, right?” said Joel, who for some reason still seemed hesitant to step into a leadership role over the group of survivors. Why he would feel that way, Esther didn’t understand. Back on the Nautilus, he was always very confident and had taken charge of the crew easily when the situation called for it. Esther began to think that maybe she made him uncomfortable.

  “We’ll tell the Hadiqan officials in Deyr about the assassination plot,” continued Joel, “then we try and find transport back to Ardmorr. Esther will be able to pay her own passage with the coin she’ll be getting out of Ikenna’s earnings, but the rest of us may have to work for our berths.”

  “It’s all right, Joel,” said Esther, stepping into the hall with her bag in hand, “There will be plenty to pay passage for us all.”

  “That’s very generous of you, lass,” said Joel, “but I don’t think it will be necessary. There ain’t nothing to do aboard ship as a passenger anyway. We don’t mind working for our passage.”

  “Well, it’s there if you need it,” she said.

  “Alright,” said Mac, bending down to grab his bag off of the floor, “Should we take our gear on up?”

  The others grabbed their own bags and the group made its way up the companionway onto the main deck. They were approaching the Hadiqan coast and Esther could see what appeared to be the structures of a small fishing village. She didn’t get time to study it, however, because a serving boy walked up and beckoned them to follow him.

  They had all assumed that the Easterners would lower them on one of the smaller platforms off the side of the main deck, but the boy led them down the companionway two decks to the same deck that sickbay was on. This time, however, the large panels set in the middle of the floor were folded back and the large cargo platform had been raised even with the floor. Captain Amadi, Adaeze, Chidi, a woman standing next to Chidi whom Esther assumed to be his wife, Nkechi, all stood with a number of officers to the side of the platform. A couple of crew members were placing two trunks on the platform. Several other crew members walked over to Esther and her companions and held out their hands to take their bags. Esther handed her bag to one of them and he walked over and placed them next to the trunks along with those of her companions.

  Captain Amadi stepped over to Esther with a small lockbox in his hand and opened it. It was filled with coins. “This is the forfeited pay that is owed to you as recompense for Ikenna’s actions,” he said, “A midshipman’s rate isn’t very high, but over time and a long journey like this one, it adds up.”

  Esther held out her hand and accepted the lockbox, closing the lid. “Thank you,” she said.

  Adaeze stepped forward. “We cannot give back what has been taken from you,” she said, “but we hope you will accept these gifts as an apology and a token of our good faith.”

  At a signal from Adaeze, a crew member stepped forward and opened the lid of the first trunk, pulling its contents out and laying them on top of the other trunk for everyone to see. The first item was a sword and scabbard. Esther was no expert when it came to swords, but it appeared to be of excellent workmanship. There were throwing knives and target
s to practice on, as well as a couple of wooden training swords. A small case sat inside the trunk. A crewman opened it to reveal a pistol inside. Esther didn’t recognize the design—it wasn’t your typical Wheelock. She looked up at Amadi, puzzled.

  “It is a new design,” he said, “They call it a flintlock. It’s supposed to be easier to use and more reliable. It’s of Hadiqan origin.”

  The crewman closed the small case and placed it back in the trunk, then pulled out a dress similar to the one Esther was now wearing with divided riding skirts. There were also some leggings that looked to be made of a lighter material than the ones she had now. Esther looked over at Chidi’s wife, certain that it had been her who had fashioned the clothing, and nodded a thank you. The items were quickly stowed back in the trunk and the crewman opened the second trunk. This time he didn’t pull out its contents. It was filled with pottery jars.

  “Those jars are filled with nkwụ oil,” said Amadi, “You can sell it in Deyr and it should fetch a decent price.”

  “In addition,” said Adaeze, “my husband and I have decided that every year we will send money to you, wherever you may be, and,” she said, a smile playing across her lips, “if you do not tell us where you will be, then we will simply keep adding to it until we find you. We Easterners have trade networks across the known world and are very good at finding people.” Adaeze’s smile faltered somewhat with her next words. “If there is a child, we will provide additional money or support for it, whether you choose to keep it, or give it up to another family.”

  Overwhelmed, Esther didn’t know what to say. Tears formed in her eyes and it was all she could do to keep from crying. Finally, she was able to speak. “Adaeze, Captain Amadi,” she said, “This is much too generous of you. These wonderful gifts are enough,” she gestured to the trunks, “The money is not necessary. Let’s leave it at that.”