Trafalgar Boone and the Children of the Burnt Empire

by Geonn Cannon

  “My goodness,” Dorothy said. “You look amazing.”

  “Thank you, Lady Boone,” Trafalgar said. “I must confess I was a bit worried you would be scandalized.”

  Dorothy gestured her inside. “Me? Heavens, have you met me? It will take more than a haircut to drive me to the fainting couch. Although I must say that I hope you have a sizable collection of hats once winter arrives. London can be unforgiving to the bald.”

  “I’ll have to shop for some.” She entered the room and noted the tidy bed, the cluttered desk. “I haven’t been to see Cora yet. Do you think she’ll be appalled?”

  “She’s spent more time in Africa than anyone else in the Society.” Dorothy reclined against the desk, arms crossed over her chest. “I may know you better, but she knows the culture. Unless this is merely your way of coping with the fact we’re at sea.”

  Trafalgar smiled. “No. It’s a decision that has been a long time coming. Since you brought it up, I’m doing fine with the ocean.” She glanced at the porthole and moved to take a seat on Dorothy’s bed. “I’m a bit uneasy that we can no longer see land, but perhaps I won’t notice as much if I remain below decks.”

  Dorothy said, “And it’s no different than being on an airship above heavy cloud cover.”

  “That actually helps. Thank you.”

  Dorothy dipped her head in acknowledgement, then gestured at the desk. “As you can see, I’ve spent the majority of the trip going over these journals. Neville is quite a character, don’t you think?”

  “Very excitable.” Trafalgar smiled. “He was so careful and studious until he reached the jungle, and then he became like a schoolboy.”

  “Yes, exactly!” Dorothy laughed. “I respect a man who finds joy in his work. It doesn’t all have to be stuffiness and weighty words. Desmond truly appreciates being in a strange, mysterious place.”

  Trafalgar tensed slightly. “You mean Neville.”

  “Of course.”

  “You said Desmond.”

  “No, I...” She stopped herself before the lie was fully formed. Her shoulders sagged and she moved to sit beside Trafalgar on the bed. “Crumbs. Yes, I do see something of Desmond in Captain Neville. Perhaps I’m merely projecting my own unsettled thoughts onto his writing.”

  Trafalgar said, “No, I had the same thoughts when I went through the journals. I didn’t want to say anything for fear of unnecessarily invoking them.”

  Dorothy sighed. “I suppose racing to Neville’s rescue is my way to karmically make amends for the fact I couldn’t save Des. I promise I won’t allow it to interfere with my common sense. If you think it is at any point, you have my permission to give me a swift kick.”

  “Literally?”

  “Figuratively.”

  Trafalgar clicked her tongue in disappointment. Dorothy shoved her shoulder, and they both laughed. Dorothy draped one leg over the other and rested her hands on them.

  “I admit, I’m a bit more lonely than I expected.”

  “That’s never been an issue for you,” Trafalgar said. “Even on missions where Beatrice remained home, you had no problem finding companionship. If the other passengers aren’t receptive, perhaps Miss Hyde would be amenable to your company.”

  Dorothy said, “It’s not a lack of interest. Except on Cora’s part... she’s actually only interested in men, as boring as that sounds. But I haven’t pursued anyone. To be honest, I... I’m not interested in dalliances. I’m confident I could find someone willing to share my berth if I put a bit of efforts into it. But despite that and despite knowing Beatrice doesn’t mind the fact I occasionally wander, I can’t bring myself to want to. Even though I’m lonely.”

  “You’re lonely for her. That’s not a weakness.”

  “Well, it’s certainly not a strength. It’s awfully awkward, to be quite honest.”

  Trafalgar smiled. “You’re maturing. You want to settle down.”

  Dorothy sneered.

  “Or,” Trafalgar corrected, “you’ve discovered that of all the women in the world, there is only one beguiling enough to be worth your time and strong enough to keep up with you no matter where you may end up.”

  Dorothy nodded slowly. “That I believe I could accept. Thank you, Trafalgar.”

  “My pleasure.” She stood. “With that, I shall leave you to... however you decide to spend your time. I noticed you haven’t been to bed yet.”

  “We’ve only been at sea for a few hours.”

  “Yes, and it was a very early morning for us both. You deserve a nap, Lady Boone. It will be a few days before we arrive. You should take the time to relax.”

  Dorothy said, “I think I’ll take your advice. And I may even follow your lead.” She reached up and touched her red curls. “It would save me so much time in the mornings...”

  “No,” Trafalgar said without hesitation. “You would look atrocious without hair.”

  Dorothy swung her foot at Trafalgar, who deftly avoided the kick by dancing closer to the door. She waved over her shoulder as she fled the room, shutting the door behind her before Dorothy could launch a second attack.

  Chapter Five

  Cora Hyde didn’t sleep for the first three days of their journey. She wasn’t surprised by that fact, and had actually expected her anxiety to be far worse. Sleep had been elusive since her disastrous final mission to Khirokitia. The darkness of closed eyes reminded her of those caverns deep beneath the surface of the world where she’d lost three young women. Ada, Martha, Nellie. A bloody rope was enough evidence to deduce what happened to Ada, but the other two... gone with no trace, vanished because she lacked the courage to go back into the dark to find them.

  Logically, she knew that going back into the caves would only have resulted in her own demise. That knowledge did nothing to assuage her guilt. The girls had been so very young and excited at the opportunity to join her in the field. Mere students whose parents couldn’t even bury remains because no one was capable of venturing back to retrieve whatever might have been left behind.

  Her stay at Wraysbury Hospital had done wonders to raise her spirits from suicidal to mere depression. She could function. She could dress, fix her hair, put on a good enough performance to stop her friends from looking at her like she was fragile. The pain was still there, but it was manageable. Once the haze lifted, she realized Dorothy Boone was the one person who never treated her as broken or looked at her with pity. That was why Cora chose to come along on this mission. She believed herself ready but, just in case she wasn’t, Dorothy was the one person she trusted to not think less of her, and to pick up her slack if necessary.

  When she finally emerged from her room on the fourth day, she found Dorothy and Trafalgar in the ship’s grand dining room. They were seated close enough to the bank of windows to see the ocean, but not so close to suffer from a chill. There were already plates in front of both of them, but they seemed to be closer to the beginning of their meal than the end.

  Trafalgar gestured for her to join them and Cora apologized for cloistering herself. Dorothy waved off the apology.

  “You’ve been under tremendous strain. Choosing to come along with us was a big step. Take as much time as you need to process what it means.” She gestured at the seat across from her. “The waiter should be back in a moment if you’re hungry.”

  “Thank you. I’m famished.” She took in Trafalgar’s shaven pate as she sat down. “A bold new look, Miss Trafalgar. It’s incredibly striking.”

  Trafalgar smiled. “Thank you. I was inspired to commemorate the start of this expedition.”

  “Not to mention we’ll be deep inside a tropical rainforest,” Cora said. “I’m certain Dorothy and I will be envying your lack of hair by noon on the first day.” The waiter appeared as promised, and Cora put in an order for an extremely modest breakfast. When he was gone, Cora faced her friends again. “What have I missed? I assume the two of you haven’t been resting on your laurels this whole time.”

  “Hardly.” Doroth
y sipped her tea. “We’ve determined the name of the guides Captain Neville’s men used from his earliest correspondence. Our first order of business upon arriving in Belém will be finding those guides and learning more of what happened once Neville entered the jungle.” She speared a piece of her egg and brought it to her mouth, then paused before taking her bite. “Now there is a slightly uncomfortable topic that must be brought up before the mission gets underway.”

  Cora smiled knowingly. “The fact that you and Trafalgar are in charge and I am merely a glorified assistant?”

  Dorothy’s smile was bashful. “I apologize. I certainly don’t think of you as my subordinate in any way. But--”

  “But in situations such as the one we’re about to embark upon, it’s necessary to have a clear chain of command. I haven’t been in the field lately, so it only makes sense that I defer to you.”

  Dorothy visibly relaxed. “I’m glad we’ve gotten that taken care of. The last thing we need is a miscommunication in the jungle.” She scanned the room and lifted her hand to summon the waitress. “Now our only order of business for the rest of the trip is simply to enjoy ourselves. Sleeping in comfortable beds, eating wonderfully catered meals, wearing freshly-laundered clothes. I don’t know how long we’ll be away from civilization, but I have little doubt we’ll soon be missing luxuries like this. Let’s not take it for granted.”

  Trafalgar lifted her glass of juice, and Cora lifted her drink to tap it in a toast. Dorothy did the same, then moved the glass so she could get a refill from the just-arrived waitress.

  “To the comforts of modern life,” Dorothy said.

  “And to roughing it,” Cora added, “and coming out stronger the other side.”

  Dorothy nodded her approval and they all three took a drink. They had two more days left on the ship, and Cora was determined not to waste another second hiding in her cabin.

  #

  The ship arrived in Brazil on schedule. Dorothy took Trafalgar onto the deck as they pulled into the harbor so she could point out Neville’s ship, the Herald, still awaiting the return of its crew. It had been stuck there for a year, most likely a bane to the dockmasters, and she could only hope it wasn’t forced to remain there much longer.

  Most people in London likely thought of South America as a completely wild and uncivilized place, as Dorothy herself had believed until she began planning this trip. But the port city of Belém was a booming metropolis, still flourishing from the rubber trade which had injected the modern world into this most remote of places. Developers had struggled to turn this place into a place of profit, even laying a railroad through the wilderness. The reports she read indicated nature had fought to reclaim its dominion at every turn, but eventually Man won out, as it tended to do with depressing regularity.

  Dorothy was among the first people off the ship, stopping after she stepped off the gangplank to acclimate to solid ground. She put on her sunglasses to examine the buildings near the harbor. Cora put a hand on Trafalgar’s elbow to steady herself.

  “Are you all right?”

  Cora smiled self-consciously. “Land legs. I forgot what it was like to spend most of a week on a ship and then return to land.”

  “Your mind needs a moment to catch up with your body.” Trafalgar patted Cora’s hand, adjusting her posture so they looked like friends linking arms instead of one person providing support for another. “Take as much time as you need.”

  Dorothy stood a few paces ahead of them. The majority of their luggage was scheduled to be delivered to their hotel, but she’d kept the heavy leather bag containing Neville’s journals. She took out one that she’d perused on the ship and flipped it open to a hand-drawn map of the town. The captain had helpfully only written the names of the necessary landmarks - docks, market, hotels - and it didn’t take long to get her bearings. The town stretched to the south, following the jagged coastline, and their destination was due east of the docks. She looked back to make sure her companions were ready before she gestured to the road.

  “We’ll most likely find our guides close to the edge of town. Shall we walk or take a tram?”

  “I think walking would serve us best in terms of reclaiming our equilibrium,” Cora said. “If Miss Trafalgar is kind enough to provide her arm for a bit longer.”

  Trafalgar smiled and patted Cora’s hand. “For as long as you need.”

  Dorothy touched the brim of her hat to them. She led their trio through the bustling streets. Trafalgar’s head drew a handful of curious looks, but no one in the group commented on the attention she was receiving. They paused only long enough for Dorothy to buy bananas, one for each of them, which they ate as they followed the rudimentary map through the narrow streets of Old City to a small brick building with a large window looking out at traffic like the eye of a cyclops. Dorothy squinted at the jumble of words painted on the glass.

  “My Portuguese is rustier than I’d like to admit, but I think this is the place.”

  Cora had long ago found her stability, so she released Trafalgar’s arm to follow her and Dorothy inside. The shop’s front room was a welcome respite from the humidity. Dorothy removed her hat and used it to fan her face as her eyes acclimated to the darkness. She moved to stand closer to the circulation of a ceiling fan, which teased her hair away from her face. Cora ventured even further and craned her neck to look up a flight of stairs to the second floor.

  “Hello?”

  “Olá, hello!” The man’s voice echoed from somewhere to their right. A few moments later a door opened and he stepped into view. His black hair was shaggy and unkempt, but the bushy mustache covering his upper lip was meticulously groomed. He wore a faded pink shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal the tank top underneath. He held out large hands and smiled at them.

  “Americans?”

  “British,” Dorothy corrected.

  “Even better. God save the Queen, and all that.” His speech was suddenly colored by a British accent, thought Dorothy couldn’t say for certain whether that had changed after his first brief words. “My name is Marco Eiriz, you can call me Eiriz. It’s a much more interesting name.” He moved to the desk in the corner and cleared off a precarious stack of maps. “How may I help you ladies?”

  “My name is Dorothy Boone. This is Trafalgar, and the woman by the stairs is Cora Hyde. We’d like to employ you as our guide.”

  He sat down and nodded. “You’ll do no better than me, my friends. My family has called this city home for over seventy years. I know it like the back of my hand. Old and new, I can show you the best we have to offer.”

  Dorothy said, “I’m certain you could. But I meant we need you to be our guide into the forest.”

  For the first time, his expression wavered. “An expedition? Where...” He looked toward the door. “How many will be in your party?”

  “Just us.”

  “Just the three of you. You three... ladies.”

  Trafalgar said, “We’re quite capable of handling ourselves in extreme situations.”

  “I’m sure you are, miss.” He stood again. “This isn’t a matter of... look... I’ve taken a half dozen groups into the jungle. There are obstacles you’re most likely unaware of. It’s not just the heat and the wildlife. Although the heat and the wildlife are both enough by themselves to dissuade you. The wasps alone...” He shuddered at some memory. “No matter how clear a path may seem, you will require a machete to hack through vines that hang in your way. I’ve seen men collapse from exhaustion, too weak to lift their arms to wipe away their tears.”

  “Then I suppose we will need to hire a few of your friends to provide the grunt work.”

  Eiriz sighed and put his hands on his hips. “They won’t be cheap.”

  Dorothy said, “And I am not poor. We’re not flighty women off on a lark, Mr. Eiriz. We are here on behalf of the Royal Geographical Society in an attempt to discover the fate of Captain Neville and the men of his expedition.”

  Eiriz stood up straighter. His face
betrayed no emotion, but that was enough to give Dorothy a clue of his inner turmoil.

  “Neville?” he said.

  “That’s correct.” Dorothy held up the journal. “We know that he came here and hired you. His correspondence mentions you by name, Mr. Eiriz. Of course we’ll pay you the going rate for your services. All we ask is that you show us where Neville was heading the last time you saw him.”

  “I can do better than that, Miss Boone.” Eiriz’s entire body sagged, as if he had just released some tension within himself. “I can take you to where we buried them.”

  Chapter Six

  While Eiriz gathered a small group of men to accompany them into the jungle, Dorothy took Trafalgar and Cora aside to discuss whether their mission had come to an unexpectedly sudden end. “It’s not the outcome we were hoping for,” she whispered, “but the potential for this was always there. We could get Mr. Eiriz to explain the circumstances and take that story back to London.”

  Cora said, “Certainly some of the men have families. They deserve to know their fathers or brothers or sons are resting somewhere more dignified than some unmarked grave in the middle of uncharted wilderness. I’m aware that I am the most fragile of our group, but I elect that we continue onward. If we cannot bring back their bodies, the least we can do is pay our respects at the site.”

  “I agree.”

  “We have a consensus, then.”

  Trafalgar looked toward Eiriz and Dorothy followed her gaze. He was seated with his elbows on the desk, one hand covering the lower half of his face. His good humor had faded, and he seemed to be genuinely haunted by what he’d revealed. Dorothy walked closer and he straightened a little, though his shoulders remained slumped.

  “I spoke to the men, and they’re supplying the boat. We’ll be ready to leave within the hour. It shouldn’t take us long to reach the site.”