by Chloe Carley
As another sail flew free, his arm snapped out to stop the flailing rope from whipping into Rachel’s face. It coiled backward like a snake before lunging forward with renewed ferocity. It lashed against his skin, biting deep. A jolt of pain shot through his body and a trickle of scarlet mingled with the rainwater, but he found his senses numbed by the expression on Rachel’s face. She looked up at him with grateful eyes, her eyes wide and fearful. He could see she was trying her best not to show her terror and for that, he admired her all the more. This was no mean feat for anyone, let alone a young lady who had never done anything like this in her entire life.
“Are you well, Miss Faulks?” he asked.
“Yes, I think so. I have managed to free some of these ropes.”
“You are doing splendidly, I may assure you of that. Without you, this would be taking far longer and time is something we currently have little of.”
She smiled anxiously. “Thank you.”
Seeing something out of the corner of his eye, his attention turned toward the turbulent ocean that surrounded them on all sides. Another wall of bitter, black water was rushing toward the bow at breakneck speed. The tips frothed like snapping jaws, the thunderous roar of its approach rattling in Noah’s ears. There was no time to clamber back down the rigging and get Rachel to safety.
“Whatever happens next, hold tight to me. Do you understand?” he said swiftly.
She nodded uncertainly. “Yes.”
“Hold fast!” Noah bellowed to the other sailors in the rigging as the wave surged ever closer. Offering a look of apology to Rachel, he leaned over her and pressed her back against the broad mast, his arms wrapping tightly around her. Protecting her with his entire body, he twisted two stray ropes from the mast around his hands and pulled them taut, using them to brace himself and Rachel against the onslaught. Her arms slipped around his neck, her pantalooned legs gripping his waist as he held her in position. It was entirely improper, but there was nothing else he could do to ensure her survival.
“Take a breath,” he told her, whispering in her ear. Beneath his chest, he felt her lungs draw in a deep inhalation mirroring the movement of his own.
The wave hit them before he could say another word. It barreled into them like a blockade of icy stone, slamming into Noah’s body with all its might. He felt himself knocked sideways prompting him to pull harder on the ropes, every fiber of his muscles screaming with the exertion to remain right-side-up. He would not let go, not while he had Rachel to protect. She was depending on him.
Another wave followed a moment after the first had subsided giving Noah a few seconds to catch his breath before the wall of water enveloped them once again. It battered him, slamming hard against the Emerald in its attempt to sink the vessel and drag it down into the depths. The cold cut deep, his body shivering, his palms burning as the ropes dug into his calloused hands. Still, he would not relinquish his grip. Only when the second wave ebbed did he allow himself to move. Rachel’s arms and legs still clung tight to him as he sat up slowly, keeping one arm around her as he held her in his lap for a moment. She was shaking violently, her face buried in his shoulder as though she did not dare to look up for fear of what she might see.
“We must descend again,” he said softly. “We have done all we can with the sails. Now, we must find somewhere to wait out the storm. There is nothing else for us to do.”
Rachel would not release him. “Take me back down,” she murmured. “I do not think I can endure the climb.”
“You have made it this far, Miss Faulks. I have faith that you will make it back down to the deck and I shall be by your side at every step. I will not leave you by yourself, I swear it.”
She pulled back slightly and gazed into his eyes. “I do not have the strength, Mr. Sharpleton.”
“Oh, I believe you do. You had the strength to come up here of your own volition and determination to help us cut these sails free. You have the strength to do a great many things and this return journey to the deck is only the smallest of them. You can do it, Miss Faulks, I know you can.” He would have attempted to carry her back down, but he doubted his own strength. His hands were blistered and bleeding from the way the ropes had dug in and his muscles were already aching. He did not think he could hold her in his arms and get them both safely back down, not now.
“You think so?”
He nodded. “I know so. You must do this for those poor creatures in the Empire Suite who are no doubt frightened half out of their minds. They need you to assure them that everything is going to be all right. Nan will need comforting, too, for she likely has no idea what is happening. Did you notice her when you came out of the suite?”
“I confess, I did not. The last time I saw her she was sleeping soundly in her bedchamber.”
“Then you must do this before another wave carries us off and they are left to fend for themselves,” Noah urged.
A look of steely determination settled across Rachel’s face as she began to shuffle back across the beam to reach the center mast. Noah followed her, keeping his wits about him in case she slipped. After so much, he wasn’t about to lose her now. Onions was already on the rigging, his hands stretched out to help Rachel down onto the ropes below. At least he had not been taken by the last wave, either, though the same could not be said for many of the sailors who had been darting about on the deck and had clambered about the masts. The Emerald’s numbers had dwindled again. From his high vantage point, he could see bodies floating in the water that had flooded the staircase and he noted several still shapes across the wooden planks directly beneath.
Several minutes later, with his hand steadying Rachel between her shoulder-blades, they reached the relatively solid ground of the Emerald’s top deck. “Rouse the captain if he is not already awake,” Noah instructed Onions. He nodded and sprinted off towards the captain’s quarters on the other side of the ship. Noah, meanwhile, took up Rachel’s hand and dragged her towards the safety of the Empire Suite. There, he closed the door behind them and set her down in one of the armchairs. The fire had long since gone out and many of her belongings lay scattered about the room where the ship had tipped them out of place.
Dandelion bounded up to his mistress, barking loudly as he licked her hands and face in eager happiness at her return. Wasting no time, Noah ran through to the spare room and retrieved the cage with the parrot inside and the small box that held Peridot. Praying that Rachel would understand and forgive him later, he took them out onto the main deck and carried them to the gunwale. There, he opened the cage door and set the jeweled parrot free. Spreading out it’s vibrant wings, it raised up on a current of stormy air and disappeared into the darkness. Peridot watched the parrot go before giving a soft chirp that sounded almost like comprehension. Turning its tiny black eyes toward Noah for a moment, it hopped onto the edge of the box before flying away, seeking its own survival amongst the throes of the tempest.
Keep them safe, Lord, for they are your creatures, he thought silently, before returning to the Empire Suite. He left the cage and the box by the door and went back into the spare bedchamber. There, he brought out the cages that remained and set them against the wall for a quick escape. There were four lifeboats on the ship—hulking wooden vessels that needed to be lowered into the water. He thought about the closest one, which sat just to the right of the suite’s front door. Ordinarily, it needed several men to lower it into the water, but he was no longer sure how many sailors remained on-board. Plus, he could not be certain what kind of success they might have if they took one of the boats onto stormy waters like this. He resolved to wait it out unless providence forced his hand into action.
Chapter Nineteen
Rachel and Nan huddled with Dandelion in the lounge of the Empire Suite using an upturned armchair to shelter them from any falling objects. Although, most of their belongings had already tumbled from the shelves and cabinets that lined the room. From the relative safety of a wooden crate that Noah had found to put Rac
hel’s pets inside, the monkeys and sugar gliders chirped in a panic while the fruit bat flapped its wings wildly. They could scent the danger in the air.
“How can we survive this, Mr. Sharpleton?” Rachel whimpered as Noah continued to layer old clothing across the bottom of the suite door. Water was seeping in through the tiny gap for the deck beyond was getting battered by charge after charge of determined waves.
“I have endured many storms before, Miss Faulks. We will make it through this,” he assured, though his shoulders seemed stiff and his eyes would not meet hers. “Might I suggest that you pray for us while I consider our options?”
She nodded and took Nan’s hand, the two of them murmuring prayers beneath their breath as Noah stood and looked out of the suite window. Rachel couldn’t help but peer in his direction, trying to make out what he was looking at. A few stragglers hobbled about the flooded deck, but they were broken men, desperately trying to lash crates and cannons down before the sea carried them away. Noah seemed sad, leaning against the wall for a moment as though catching his breath. His whole body sagged, which worried Rachel. Is there no hope for us? Is that what this means?
Rachel screamed as lightning struck the central mast, her eyes darting toward the unmistakable flash. A deafening crack followed, fortified by the sound of splitting wood. Through the glass pane, she saw the first flickers of fire rising up from the spot where the lightning had struck. Even with the rain pouring down, it would not be doused. Before she knew what was happening, the central mast seemed to grow closer and bigger. It was falling straight toward them.
With an almighty crash, it powered into the roof of the suite, the windows smashing upon impact. The wind howled through the gap and clawed at the faces of Rachel and Nan as they huddled even closer into the armchair. Dandelion bristled on her haunches, growling at the fallen beam.
“We have to go,” Noah said firmly, turning around. His face was as white as a sheet, his brow beaded with sweat.
Rachel stared at him. “Go? Where can we go? We are stranded in the middle of the ocean on a ship that is breaking into pieces!”
“Precisely and that is why we must abandon it. Without the mast, the Emerald will lose her balance. You see how she is rolling violently from side to side?”
Rachel nodded.
“Eventually, the water will tip her too far one way and she will not rise again,” he explained. “I would not put either of you through that. So, we must take one of the lifeboats before it is too late. Come, we have to depart this instant, for I do not know when the vessel may begin to sink.”
“Well, Miss Faulks, you heard the man,” Nan said, with a comforting smile. “We’d best be getting ourselves out of here. You’ve got a new life to get started with and I’ve got my boy to find. I ain’t staying on no sinking ship if those are my options.”
Rachel bit her lip. “Yes, you are quite right. We must go.”
Noah opened the door of the suite and let in a turbulent roar of wind, rain, and salt water, the whole ocean churning around the ship. The waves only seemed to be getting bigger, shooting up from the black waters like jagged mountain ranges. How they could survive in a much smaller boat, Rachel was uncertain. However, she did not like to ask Noah for he already seemed much too preoccupied with getting them off the Emerald.
“That blackguard,” Noah hissed under his breath, as he reached the lifeboat closest to the suite.
“What is the matter, Mr. Sharpleton?” Rachel asked.
He pointed to a shadow in the water, lit up every now and again by the flicker of distant lightning. Captain Frodsham sat alone in the center of one of the lifeboats, rowing like the devil through the volatile waters. Sailors had swum after him, but they now bobbed lifelessly on the ocean’s surface. He had pushed them back out of his boat in order to preserve himself. There seemed to be blood, too, though she could not make out much in the gloom of the storm. Perhaps, she was simply imagining it. However, it seemed unlikely that these sailors had been unable to swim, yet now they were still in the water. What did you do to them? she wondered in horror.
For a moment longer, Rachel stared in disbelief at Captain Frodsham for he had promised her father that he would deliver her safely to the Americas. And yet, he had not even attempted to come for them—he had not tried to save her, only himself. Please, Lord, help us through this tempest. I pray that you may see us safely to dry land for we are your children and we are scared. Save us, my Lord. Save us.
“I had a feeling he would do something of this kind,” Noah muttered as he moved to loosen the winches that held the lifeboat in place. Through his soaked white shirt, Rachel could see his muscles bulging under the strain of trying to hold the boat single-handedly. He had two ropes bound about his wrists, his entire body shaking as he struggled to lower the boat down into the water by brute strength alone. His features contorted in a mask of pain as the ropes burned his skin, sliding over his wrists like snakes ready to strike.
Darting forward, she gripped hold of the second rope that had bound itself around Noah’s left forearm. The winches were already loosened, so all she had to do was take the strain. Before he could stop her, she unwound the coil from his arm and held on tight. The weight of the boat took her by surprise, her shoes skidding over the planks as her end began to plummet toward the water. In a panic, she braced her feet against the gunwale and pulled back in order to stop the boat’s descent. Somehow, it managed to work. Her end of the boat came level with Noah’s as he lowered it the rest of the way. Working together, they delivered the lifeboat safely into the water below. Now, all they had to do was get down into it. The ropes still held it in place, though it knocked violently against the side of the ship. If they didn’t want it to be smashed to smithereens against the Emerald, they were going to have to move quickly.
“Nan, I’m going to lower you down first,” Noah said, as he moved toward the old woman. He picked her up with gentle care and threw her unceremoniously over his shoulder. She wrapped her arms, upside down, about his waist as he hopped up onto the balustrade of the gunwale and took hold of one of the ropes. Rachel marveled at his agility as he began to shimmy down the rope and into the boat below. There, he deposited Nan, before climbing back up.
“Take the animals first,” Rachel urged, as he took a step toward her.
With a sigh, he took Dandelion next, before darting into the Empire Suite to retrieve the three cages that remained. Rachel counted them as he took them down to the boat, a sudden realization dawning as he heaved himself back up to assist her.
“Where is Peridot? And the parrot?”
He paled. “I set them loose. They are far more likely to survive this by themselves than trapped on this ship with us. Please, you must believe me.”
“You did this terrible thing without consulting me first?”
“It is no terrible thing, Miss Faulks, for they will survive this. You will see that it is so. Now, please, we do not have time to argue about the birds. We must go, this very instant!” His eyes flickered toward something behind Rachel’s head. She turned, her eyes flying wide as she took in the terrifying sight of the upper deck ablaze. Huge flames crackled and licked the wooden structure, devouring it piece by piece. Soon enough, it would start to hunt out fresh prey and come down the steps toward them.
“Very well. I see that you are right, Mr. Sharpleton,” she murmured, her voice trembling.
“Good.” He scooped her up in his arms as though she weighed nothing, advising her to do what she did when they were stuck on the beam. “Place your arms about my neck and your legs about my waist, if you can.” Shyly, she did as he had asked, clinging to him like a monkey as he lowered them both down into the lifeboat. Nan flashed them a mischievous look as they all settled into the smaller vessel.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Noah took to the center seat and snatched up the oars, fitting them securely through the oarlocks before he began to row. He heaved on the oars with every ounce of strength he possessed, pulling th
e boat away from the Emerald and the flames that threatened to engulf the entire thing. The tiny vessel was tossed about like a ragdoll, the water buffeting the sides, while spray splashed across the exposed individuals who sat there. Rachel could not suppress the panic she felt in realizing that this boat was supposed to carry them through the enormous waves that continued to rise up in the near distance.
A voice called out cutting through the roar of the storm. Onions stood on the edge of the Emerald, waving wildly. “Wait for me!” he cried.
Noah stilled the oars for a moment as Onions dove from the side of the ship and swam toward them. With Rachel and Nan’s help, he hauled himself into the boat. He sat back against the stern, his face deathly pale, his lips a curious blue while his forehead was mottled with bruises. Blood trickled down the side of his temple coming from a wound beneath his hairline.
“What happened to you?” Rachel asked as she tore some strips from her petticoat and pressed them to the wound. Nan did the same, the two of them taking care of Onions as Noah resumed his rowing.
“I tried to stop the captain from leaving. I told him there were men who needed help, men who were stuck below, men who needed the lifeboat as much as he did,” he whimpered. “He hit me with the end of his pistol and kicked me when I fell to the ground. Garrick, too, though he got a shot to the head for his troubles.”
