The Dreamer (The Fall Series)

by Abbey, May Nicole

  *** *** ***

  The next day, I did not seek out the duke as I normally did. I stayed strictly in my cabin, not bothering to go to breakfast. And when I couldn’t stand the stifled, stuffy atmosphere of my cabin any longer, I ventured out on deck for a brief breath of fresh air.

  Almost immediately, Charles appeared and approached me, and warily, I watched him draw near.

  He stood next to me, and with a great deal of politeness, he inquired how I was, his hand joining mine as it rested on the railing. I instinctively drew it away.

  Wordlessly he reached out and captured my hand, not allowing me to elude him. “This shall not do, petite,” he chided, squeezing my hand.

  “Charles, about yesterday … I’m sorry, I ….”

  “Hush. No need to explain.” His blue eyes were very understanding and a little sad. “It is not the first time a man has been rejected by a woman, nor the last. I cannot make it more than it is.”

  “But I didn’t mean to hurt you. Nothing like that had happened to me before, and I was so confused. I spent the rest of the night regretting every word I said. I was so silly.”

  “What do you mean, child?”

  I spoke slowly, keeping my gaze on our clasped hands. “I mean that love is not pure fantasy. It can’t be, not the way it is so universally understood, crossing times and cultures and barriers as it does. My hypothesis was wrong. I was overreaching. Love is real and it is necessary. It’s just ….”

  “Yes? It’s just?”

  I looked at him now. “It isn’t for me. I am designed for bigger things. You don’t know how frustrating it is to have accomplished all I’ve accomplished and not be able to tell a single soul about it. To have to hide it when it’s so earth changing, so jaw dropping, so big.”

  He smiled softly. “You are unlike any other woman I’ve ever known. Strong and independent, intelligent and confident, who shows me things I have never known before.” His grip tightened. “Tell me who you are. Tell me something. I must know.”

  I hesitated, feeling sudden exhilaration at the idea of telling someone the truth whether they believed me or not. Throwing caution to the wind I said, “I am a professor, a researcher. I had a dream, a dream that captivated me and crowded out all else.”

  “A dream, child?” he repeated, a little confused. “What dream?”

  “A dream of falling. I dedicated my life to going back in time, and I did. I was born in California, in the country of the United States of America in the year 1986.”

  His eyes became sharp. “Pardon?”

  “Nineteen hundred and eighty-six. That’s when I was born. It is now 1714.”

  He gripped the railing and turned to the water, his knuckles white. And then his head dropped to the railing.

  I stepped forward in concern. “Charles, I ….”

  But just before I touched him, he glared. “You spiteful, little minx!”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “If you didn’t want to tell me about yourself,” he said bitterly, “you could have kept your mouth shut. These feminine games don’t appeal to me.”

  “But it’s not a game.”

  He stepped forward purposefully, and I instinctively shrank from him.

  “Land ho!” came a shout from above, and both of us jerked to attention. Men came running from every crevice, appearing on deck as if out of nowhere. The duke turned and walked towards the bow of the ship. I followed after him.

  “Land? Where be the land? Do ye see her?”

  “The treasure! The treasure!”

  Shouts echoed around me, but I was nearly deaf to them, straining and craning my neck to get a glimpse of it.

  A man pointed in front of me. “Thar she be! I’s seein’ ‘er first! I see ‘er!”

  A cacophony of jubilation erupted, and I fought my way to the front of the ship, exuberance and a strange sort of relief coursing through me.

  I saw the duke up ahead, his bright, curly head bent to peer through a telescope, and I elbowed towards him.

  “Do you see it, Charles? Are we really there?”

  Finally I reached him, and I narrowed my eyes against the bright light of the sun. Gazing out to the ocean, I thought I saw a tiny black dot in the distance. Mount Vernon Island. We were finally there. After so much work, so much effort and anguish. All my life I had been working for this single moment. I wondered if this is what climbers of Mt. Everest felt when they finally got a glimpse of the summit.

  “Oh, Charles, let me see through the telescope.” I turned to him, and reached my hand out expectantly. But he didn’t hear me. It was too loud, and there were too many voices.

  “Isn’t it beautiful? Land. After all this time. It seems like forever since I’ve been ashore. Do you remember? It’s the furthest west island. There’s a cluster. Four. I’ve shown you the markings. The difficulty is over. The map is very clear when you know the symbols. There will be so much, I’m sure.”

  Maharahi’s entire fortune. Priceless items that haven’t been seen by human eyes for thousands of years. Oh, what secrets will it contain? Answers to the mystery in which he is shrouded. Why are he and his entire fortune here and not in Egypt? How did writings from the future find their way into the past? How did it happen? Why did it happen?

  “We mustn’t forget the sarcophagus. It will be the most important of all. We will watch the men as they load it. Not a piece must be lost. It’s all priceless beyond measure. I will enter first. To catalogue and record it all so that an inventory can be made, and we will be able to keep track. Charles. Let me see it. Give me the telescope.”

  Again, I held out my hand to him. But still he did not turn to me. I put my hand on his arm, but he spoke to the man on the other side of him. It was Marshall Looper.

  “Charles?” I clutched the material of his jacket and tugged him.

  He pulled away from my grasp, never looking at me. The men were surrounding us, crowding in closer and closer, jostling my arms and shoulders, their voices loud and piercing. My heart began to race, though I wasn’t sure why. I knew that once the duke looked down at me, once his eyes were on me, everything would be fine.

  I took hold of him once more with both hands, yanking him forcibly. “Your Grace!”

  He tried to shrug me off again, focusing on that stupid telescope, looking through it like it was the only thing in the world. It was as though I had ceased to exist. As in a terrible dream, I had faded away and disappeared. I began to claw at him frantically with hands that trembled, crushing the beautiful material of his expensive, immaculate jacket.

  Finally he responded. He violently jerked away from me, making me stumble, though I didn’t fall. “Take her down below,” was all he said, putting the telescope back up to his eye, not a single look in my direction.

  Suddenly there were hands on me from all sides, calloused, filthy hands, and I couldn’t breathe. The world seemed to whirl all around me, spinning and spinning so that I couldn’t gain my balance. I was pulled away, and I struggled against all those hands, the faces close, the sneers I’d seen from afar before me now. “Charles!” I screamed. “Charles! What are you doing? You said you loved me. You said I was safe. Please!”

  Finally, he turned and looked at me. He raised his hand and the men stopped pulling me away. I gulped, my breathing harsh and erratic, and suddenly it was the only sound to be heard. The men were silent and watching their leader, waiting for orders.

  “Charles,” I whispered, “I beg you, say something comforting ….”

  He approached me, dark, vacant eyes scanning me, appraising me. I hardly recognized him now. As though in the blink of an eye he had become someone new, as though a mask had slipped off his face, revealing someone else all together. His charm and grace had disappeared. His features that had been so captivating and delightful were heartless and arrogant and ruthless now, as though nothing, no supplication or cry for mercy could move or touch them. All these weeks, all these experiences were with a man who did not really exist at
all. I trembled as I watched him approach, not knowing what to make of this dark stranger.

  He reached out, and I flinched when he touched me. He stroked my hair with his thumb and forefinger, as he would examine the mane of a horse he considered buying. His eyes scanned the length of me. “Don’t touch her until I come down.”

  He turned away again, and I was dragged below deck.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Notes: Unexpected alteration of circumstances. Researcher notably discons … disconcert …

  I am in peril! I am terrified!

  I was left alone in the hold, a small iron cage in the bottom level of the ship. The cage was so low that if I reached up, I could brush the bars with my fingertips, and so narrow that, if I lay down, I could do the same thing. I was in complete darkness except for a narrow shaft of light across the room where the ladder stood.

  I sat down on the small, soiled pile of hay in the corner, my knees refusing to support me, and my breathing came in short, erratic intervals as I trembled. I pressed my back up against the iron bars and watched the men withdraw, sending me leering looks of anticipation. And when they finally disappeared up the ladder, their thick boots echoing in the distance above, instead of easing, my breathing became even shorter and quicker. So fast and so short, in fact, that I hyperventilated and blacked out.

  I awoke not many minutes later. I didn’t have to recall the circumstances. I awoke to see those iron bars above me, in that dark stench, and the fear almost overwhelmed me again.

  I sat up, taking deep breaths, and began to examine my cell. I gripped the iron bars in every direction and shook them, testing for weakness or breaks. But they were sure.

  I stood up and began to pace, examining the room. It was damp there below, moldy, slimy and foul, with a stench that assaulted. A rat scurried across the room, and I shrieked. The sound echoed around me.

  This was all my fault. I had no one to blame but myself. I could have been in my classroom hundreds of years in the future, blandly teaching a group of indifferent students, anticipating nothing more unpleasant than a night of insipid papers and a bad cup of coffee. But I had fought and worked and manipulated until I had gotten my way, oblivious to the possible perils I might have to face. Or rather … I thought of them and then dismissed them as inconsequential and insignificant compared to the pursuit of truth.

  The duke was a villain — something worse than a villain! Marshall Looper was a villain. He lied and killed and stole openly, almost flauntingly. Yet Charles Dubois was something more, something far worse. He smiled, and drew one close to him, and made promises and was kind and gentle. He knew how to manipulate, and he was without conscience.

  There was a sharp noise in the distance, something that had fallen up above, and I started at the sound. I stepped back, but those iron bars pressed into my back.

  I couldn’t get a hold of myself. I couldn’t reason away my reactions and fear. I knew what was coming. I knew what was in store for me. A calm, cool assessment could have aided in the forming of plans, a means of escape. But I could think of nothing concrete, nothing solid. All that mattered was that I was in danger.

  I took a step, and my dress caught on a jagged piece of iron and tore, and I caught it up quickly with my hands to disengage it. I examined the tear distressfully.

  It was ruined! Ruined!

  What would the captain say now? He would never again look at me the way he’d done in that shop all those weeks ago, almost like he was afraid to touch me … though after that he had turned and left me without once looking back.

  A lump formed in my throat and my eyes began to burn. I swallowed, forcing down the surge of bitterness, regret and terror with monumental effort. I blinked and rubbed my eyes.

  I would not succumb! I would not give in!

  I sat down and withdrew my notes, but my hands shook so much it was too difficult to write. I am in peril …. I tried to record, but the pencil broke and tore through the paper, and the words merely looked like illegible scratches. With a surge of impatience and fear, I threw the papers on the floor, and they scattered at my feet.

  Hours passed and it grew dark as I paced and wrung my hands and started at every sound. The ship came to a stop. I paused and listened. There was commotion up above. Men shouted, and I could hear the scrape of the longboats being dragged into position and lowered. With cold, clammy hands, I gripped the iron bars, pressed my face against them, oblivious to the oily grime, and waited.

  It grew quiet. And I knew we were at the island.

  *** *** ***

  I finally slept, and my dreams were tormented and terrifying, and I ran and ran from the evil men chasing me. There were crowds of them, and they seemed to multiply as I raced. I saw the university up ahead, and the church steeple just beyond it, and I was relieved and hopeful to see it, knowing I was finally safe.

  But when I reached the steps, the men did not stop, and they pursued me all the way up to the top. They took a hold of me and held me, and I turned to see the duke standing there smiling. But it was not the beautiful smile any longer. It was wicked and frightening.

  “You cannot go back,” he sneered.

  “Captain! Captain!” I cried, looking for him.

  The duke laughed. “You are alone.”

  Arms pinned me down, and I could not move. I thrashed about, and then opened my eyes.

  I had been dreaming, but the arms pinning me down were real! I fought against them, and cried out, but a large hand covered my mouth, effectively silencing me.

  “Stop it, Rachel! It’s me,” the man fiercely whispered in my ear.

  I stilled instantly.

  He loosened his grip on me, and I turned to find him kneeling beside me, two or three men in the distance.

  “Captain!” I threw myself into his arms.

  “Hush! There are three men still up there,” he whispered sharply. “We need to move quickly.” But he didn’t move immediately. First, he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly and buried his face in my hair.

  “I didn’t know what I’d find when I came down here,” he said.

  There was a quiet cough in the distance, and he pulled away from me, though he didn’t release me. He helped me to stand and drew me out of the cell, the door now ajar.

  He looked very different than I remembered. He had a beard for one, as though he hadn’t shaved at all since I’d last seen him, and his clothing was changed, too. No longer was he in his expensive captain’s jacket and breeches. He wore a loose white shirt and short dark pants that looked similar to Looper’s, though without the stripes. And his eyes seem to have aged ten years in these weeks we’d been apart, the lines around them etched more deeply, more strain and fatigue in them than ever before. I wondered if he’d been ill.

  Life sprang into me. I could feel strength and courage flowing into my very bones. Suddenly, I knew I could conquer anything.

  “Captain,” I whispered as he pulled me up the steps, his eyes careful and wary. “The duke is a villain.”

  “I know,” he answered, not looking at me. “Now hush.”

  “He brought me here by force. The pirates bludgeoned and kidnapped me. I didn’t choose to come. I didn’t defy you. And, I’m awfully sorry for what I said to you before!”

  “Quiet!”

  I silently followed him to the upper level of the ship, through the empty sleeping quarters for the crew. Rows of hammocks stretched across for miles it seemed. I couldn’t take proper measurements, of course, under the circumstances.

  His hand never released its grip, and I had to hurry to keep up with him. The other two men were tall and dressed similarly to the captain, though it was too dark to see them properly. We reached the other end of the room and the captain pushed me up against the wall while he peeked around the corner of the open doorway. One of the other men went through, but the captain motioned that we would wait.

  “He had the map, Captain,” I feverishly explained. “At first I refused to help him. I told
him that I wouldn’t cooperate. But then he tricked me, tricked me. He told me he was working with pirates for the greater good. And I was so stupid. I believed him. And then when we reached the islands, he turned on me. They put me in the hold. A-and look … the dress you gave me is ruined!”

  But it seemed as though he wasn’t listening to me, just examining my face carefully, as a doctor would a patient to be sure that she was, indeed, as well as she claimed. And then he reached up and brushed my cheek with a calloused finger.

  The man returned immediately thereafter and motioned us up the second ladder. We quietly ascended, and I found myself in the night air, the stars shining brightly overhead. I tightened my grip on the captain’s hand, and absurdly, I felt like laughing, a frantic delight swelling through me.

  We quickly made our way to the railing, and below I saw that there was a row boat waiting for us, two more men already seated and holding the oars. Long ropes connected to iron hooks hung from the railing of the ship, and silently I was commanded to shimmy down.

  I climbed up to the top of the railing and began to carefully swing my leg over the side of the ship, holding tightly to the coarse rope with damp palms.

  But just when I was about to swing my other leg over, there were shouts in the distance and the explosion of a gun, and the three men around me sprang into action.

  A cloud moved in front of the moon at that moment and the world went black. I teetered up at the top, unsure of what to do until the captain shouted at me, commanding me to go. I swung myself over the side just as two men, locked in a clash of swords, crashed into me, and I lost my grip and fell off the side of the ship.

  I felt an explosion of pain followed by freezing darkness.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Notes: All is well. Please disregard prior emotional collapse. Prolonged doubt and anxiety the only explanation. Lab studies of hormone levels might be helpful, though impossible considering the period.

  It is good to see the captain again.

  As a case study, of course.