A Leap of Faith (The Hands of Time: Book 2) (10 page)

Alec sat down on a fallen log, trying to get his bearings.  The forest around him felt sinister and alive; the leaves rustled above his head as an owl hooted somewhere in the distance.  Small animals darted here and there, breaking twigs or moving branches.  Alec heard a howl somewhere not too far off.  There were wild animals in the forest, ones that wouldn’t hesitate to pounce on a boy and tear him to shreds.  The wolves never came near the house, but they were out there, in the darkness; waiting. 

They had been searching for hours, but there
was no sign of Finn.  If they’d set out during the daytime he would be able to track him, to follow his path, but right now, whatever trail he left was lost in the darkness and trampled by numerous feet.  Alec had two men with him, as did Charles.  He refused to go with his brother after the accusations he made.  Alec felt a wave of fury build up inside him.  As if it wasn’t bad enough that his brother thought him a fornicator and a murderer, Valerie had heard the whole thing.  Did she really believe that he was capable of such things?

She had seen you kill
Finlay;
a voice inside his head reminded him.  That had been completely different, but killing was killing.  Alec still mourned his brother every day.  He would have never let him die, had he thought there was even the slightest chance of clearing him of the charge of treason.  “I wish you were here Finlay.  I miss you so much,” whispered Alec into the silence of the night.  “If you are out there somewhere, please help me and lead me to the boy.”

Alec got up and joined the other two men
, who just finished having a piss and were talking quietly among themselves.  “I think we should continue north,” Alec said.

“Mr. Whitfield, if we go any f
arther North, we will be entering Indian Territory.  You know full well how they deal with white men.”  The two men hung back, looking fearful and unsure. 

“You are probably right.  Finn wouldn’t have come this far anyway.  We need to spread
out so we can cover more ground.  Stanley, you go east and I will go west.  Bixby, retrace our steps and see if we missed anything.  Search under every bush, in every ditch, and look up at the trees.  Maybe he climbed up to get away from something.”  Alec turned and walked off into the trees.  He had to find Finn, and he had to find him alive.  If anything happened to him, Valerie would never recover.  She was probably going out of her mind, desperate for news.  He hoped they’d find Finn soon. 

Alec searched in vain for another couple of hours, but he found nothing.  He was tired and thirsty
, his chest aching with worry and fear.  He wasn’t Finn’s biological father, but he loved the boy from the moment he first held him in his arms when he was born.  He was his beloved brother’s son, and he would gladly lay down his own life to save his.  Where could he be?  He must be hurt if he didn’t come home.  Alec began walking again, calling out every few minutes and listening for an answer.  All he heard were the sounds of the forest coming back to life with the arrival of dawn.  The sky was beginning to grow lighter in the east and soon the sun would be fully up.  Valerie would be frantic by now.  Alec hoped she managed to get some sleep, but he knew better. 

Louisa opened her eyes and lay without moving.  Her ears were ringing; her vision slightly blurred.  The ceiling seemed to be strangely close to her head, every whorl and nick visible in the wood.  She tried to remember what happened, but nothing came to mind.  She felt as if her head was wrapped in cotton wool.  She saw movement out of the corner of her eye as Agnes’s anxious face came into view.  The girl was saying something, but all Louisa saw was the opening and closing of her mouth.  The girl looked dreadful, her hair coming out of her cap, her bodice ripped and soiled. 

Louisa closed her eyes again and waited for the ringing in her ears to subside.  It was replaced by another sound that she
couldn’t quite place.  It was the sound of quiet drumming.

“What is that?” she asked, finally finding her voice.

“’Tis rain, Miss.  It’s been raining for a while now.  ’Tis really coming down.  Can ye move?  I was afraid to move ye.” Agnes gripped Louisa’s hand, as if trying to tether her to reality. 

Louisa slowly realized that her head was
, in fact, under the table where she fell and tried to sit up without hitting it again.  Agnes brought a cup of water to her lips, urging her to drink.  She took a sip and looked around.  Slowly, memory began to return and Louisa shot upright as she remembered the dead corsair.  There was no one there now, but there was a dark stain where the man had fallen; her own dress stained with ugly brown splotches of dried blood.  She was about to ask Agnes what happened when Christopher Sheridan appeared in the doorway.  His face and hair were dripping rainwater, his upper arm bandaged with a dirty blood-soaked cloth, but the look of relief on his face was unmistakable.  He sank to his knees next to Louisa, caressing her face. 

“You are all right.  Thank God.  You hit your head hard when you fell down.”  His eyes were full of warmth
, and suddenly Louisa started to cry.  Great sobs escaped her as she clung to Christopher.  All the fear she had felt poured out of her, making her feel cleansed and free.  He just held her close, his lips warm against her cheek.  “You are safe now.” 

Christopher lifted Louisa off the floor and sat her on the berth, taking a seat next to her.  She leaned against him, letting him hold her and comfort her.  Christopher drew her to him with his good arm and kissed the top of her head.  “It’s all over.  We beat them off.”

“What happened?”  Louisa wasn't sure she really wanted to know, but she had to ask.

“
We were overrun and outnumbered, but men do heroic things when fighting for their lives.  Our sailors fought bravely, but we were losing, and fast, until Mr. Willis had an idea.  He is a clever lad, that one.  Their ship was very close to ours, but lower in the water, so Mr. Willis and Mr. Coyle threw several barrels of burning pitch onto their deck.  The barrels smashed as they hit the deck, spreading the fire.  Mr. Willis said he got the idea from fire ships.  As the fire began to spread, they were forced to retreat.  The reverend’s prayers must have been answered, since the wind began to pick up, and we were able to gain speed, leaving them behind to put out their fire.  Captain Fellowes has been seriously wounded.  He’s in his cabin with Mr. Willis.” 

Christopher winced as he moved his injured arm
, but his eyes never left Louisa’s face.  “How do you feel?  Does your head hurt?  Can you see normally?”

“I think I
’m all right.  Just a bump.  It’s a little tender, but nothing more.  Are you in pain, Kit?”  She realized what she called him as soon as the name left her lips, but she didn’t care.  She wanted to call him that. 

“Not anymore.” 
His kiss was gentle and sweet, full of longing and promise.  Kit pulled away and smoothed a stray lock away from her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb.  “I must tell you something, Louisa.  We suffered a lot of casualties, but the worst part is that they took Miss Collins and her mother.  The women ran up on deck during the fighting, and were gone before anyone could stop the pirates.  They just dragged them to the other ship.  They’re gone.”

“Kit, we must get them back.  We can’t just leave them to their fate.”

“I’m afraid we must.  Captain Fellowes is the one who makes the decision, and he is not in favor of pursuit.  We lost a lot of men and will be sailing with a skeleton crew as is.  The ship suffered a lot of damage.  The carpenters will do what they can, but we’ll have to stop for repairs in the West Indies.  We’ll never make it to America in this condition.  We’ll be limping into port.”

“We can’t just give up on them.  They must be terrified.  Those poor women.
  What will happen to them?”

“They will be sold to the highest bidder at the slave market, but I doubt they will be killed.”

“Will they be raped?”  Louisa asked, horrified.

“Most likely, but their fate will still be better than that of the captured men.  They
either put them to hard labor, or turn them into galley slaves.  There is no fate worse than that.  The slaves are chained to the benches, forced to row for years without leaving their spots.  They hardly sleep, and are given just enough food to keep them alive.  Their life expectancy is very short once they are sold to the galleys.”

“That’s absolutely barbaric.”  Louisa felt more tears slide down her face.  The thought of the Collins women on that ship was terrifying.  She couldn’t even begin to imagine what they must be feeling.

“We have to go back for them.  Please.”  Louisa was pleading with Christopher through tears.

“I agree with you, but it
isn’t my decision to make.  I am not the captain.  Captain Fellowes must do what’s best for the passengers and crew, and in this case, it’s to sacrifice a few to save many.  I must go up, Louisa.  The men will be ready for burial at sea.  Do you wish to come up and pay your respects?”  Kit rose unsteadily to his feet, holding out his hand to her.  Louisa took it, and followed him out of the cabin and up the steps. 

Fifty
-two bodies were laid out on the deck, ready for burial.  About thirty were corsairs, dressed in colorful kaftans and flowing pants.  Their white turbans were still on their heads, a stark contrast to their dark skin.  The bodies of the English sailors were stitched into sacking and laid out separately.  Louisa looked around, but couldn’t tell who was missing.  The rain was coming down hard; the sails overhead taught and flapping in the gusty wind that was taking them further and further away from the pirate ship and their captives.

  Louisa
watched as Reverend Blackley stepped forward, his prayer book in his hands.  He waited silently while several sailors tossed the corpses of the corsairs overboard before beginning the funeral service.  It was brief and poignant, bringing nearly everyone to tears.  The bodies of the English sailors were consigned to the sea one by one, as their names were recited.  Louisa wiped the tears from her eyes, saying her own prayer and asking God to have mercy on their souls.  Her dress was soaked, her hair plastered to her face, but she didn’t care.  At this moment nothing really mattered. 

Her eyes found Mr. Collins.  He stood, haggard and stooped
, at the edge of the group, his eyes blank and his mouth slack.  His fingers kept pulling at a button on his coat until it came off in his hands.  He looked down at it in surprise, not really comprehending what was happening.  Louisa was about to go over to comfort the man, when his head suddenly jerked up and he looked around wildly.  No one was paying any attention to him.  Mr. Collins pulled himself up onto the railing of the deck and sat there for a moment, as if unsure of what he was doing.  His eyes met Louisa’s for a brief moment, before he fell backward into the roiling sea.  Louisa’s scream was lost in the chaos that erupted, sailors shouting to Mr. Collins to stay afloat.  It took mere moments for the waves to swallow the man; leaving an empty spot where only seconds ago a human being had been. 

Kit Sheridan stood on the bridge, swaying slightly.  His arm was on fire where the corsair’s sword wounded him; the skin uncomfortably tight and swollen.  His sleeve was tinged with blood, despite the driving rain that soaked his shirt and plastered it to his body.  The gash was much deeper than he originally thought, and he bound it with linen strips in an effort to stop the bleeding.  He should have wrapped it tighter, but it wasn’t an easy task with only one hand.  Kit used his teeth to hold the bandage as he tried to tie it.  Giant swells tossed the ship from side to side, making it difficult for him to keep his balance.  He used his good arm to steer, spreading his feet further apart to give himself more leverage against the heaving wood beneath his feet. 

Captain Fellow
es was in his cabin being tended to by young Mr. Willis.  The boy showed incredible courage and ingenuity last night, earning the respect of the crew; however, Kit strongly doubted that he would be able to keep Fellowes alive.  A cutlass had pierced one of the captain’s lungs.  He was gasping and wheezing, his eyes rolling in his head, waiting for death to claim him.  If the captain died, Kit would have to take command. 

He hadn’t been completely honest with Louisa when he told her he
would have gone after the captives.  He felt profound pity and regret, but to risk the leftover crew and their already damaged ship to rescue two women would not be practical.  Even if he could go back and find the pirate ship in this storm, they would still be vastly outnumbered, turning a rescue into a suicide attempt.  Their best bet would be to head for Jamaica or Trinidad, restock and make repairs, before continuing up the coast to Virginia. 

You
would go back for Louisa
, his mind whispered.  Yes, he would go back for her.  He would risk everything and everyone to get her back.  He supposed that made him a treacherous cur to pick favorites, but he couldn’t lie to himself.  He would do anything to get her back.  The thought of Louisa being dragged onto a platform at a slave market, stripped to show her assets, made his blood boil.  He knew full well what happened to white women who were sold into slavery.  They didn’t last long.  Very few of them were ever ransomed.  Most ended up in the brothels or harems, used by countless men until they died a lonely and horrible death.  Mrs. Collins might have a chance of survival since she was older and less desirable.  She might wind up in the kitchens or someone’s laundry.  Anne, on the other hand, was doomed.  The girl was young and fair, and presumably a virgin.  She would fetch a lot at auction, and her owner would most likely not be kind.   

Kit was distracted from his morbid thoughts by the
appearance of Louisa.  She was dripping wet, the bodice of her dress clinging to her breasts, leaving nothing to the imagination.  Her taut nipples were clearly visible through the thin material, and he had to force himself to look up at her face.  Louisa’s hair hung loose, drops of water sparkling on her eyelashes.

“Go down, Louisa. 
You’re soaked.”  Kit didn’t really want her to leave, but he didn’t want her catching her death.

“I came to check on you.  How
’s your arm?”  Her look of concern made him feel a little warmer, and he tried to give her a reassuring smile.

“I am
well.  Please don’t concern yourself.”

“You don’t look
well.”  Louisa stood up on her tippy toes and reached for his forehead.  His skin felt very hot to the touch, despite the cool rain bathing his face.  “You’re burning up.  You need to be in bed, and your wound must be cleaned and disinfected.”

“Disin-what?  It’s just a flesh wound.
  It will heal in no time.”  Kit was lying through his teeth, but he didn’t want to alarm her. 

“Disinfected so that it doesn’t fester.  Come with me, and that’s a direct order.  Who
’s next in command on this ship?”  She looked so determined that Kit nearly burst out laughing.  It had been a long time since anyone cared enough about him to show this kind of spirit. 

“Mr. Prescott is the second mate.  He
’s next in command,” he answered reluctantly.

“I
’ll go get him and bring him to stand shift.”  With that, Louisa disappeared down the stairs, leaving a bemused Kit smiling to himself.