Sea of Fire (36 page)

“You son of a bitch.” Christian strained against the ropes tied around him. His fists were clenched.

“I’ve been called worse,” Maguire said, unmoved. “But I don’t understand why. You see, I’m not that bad a person. I’m not mean, nor am I violent unnecessarily. I didn’t kill Adam or Edward—-just did away with them.”

“Sending them to prison was the same as sentencing them to death,” Christian angrily stated. “Without outside assistance, they’d eventually die.”

“My point exactly, and what happened to Robby,” Maguire said.

“What prison are they in?” Walter asked.

She was sure Walter had asked only to take Maguire’s attention from Christian. Despite what Maguire had said, he was like a volcano ready to erupt.

“New Prison,” Maguire told Walter, “But none of you will get to see them again.”

Next instant, Maguire yelled out, “Where the hell is Roderick? I don’t want to be here till morn.”

Roderick’s timing was perfect. He entered the room even as Maguire was shouting.

Roderick stepped back in disbelief the moment he saw the three of them. “Bloody hell. What are they doing here?”

Maguire briefly explained to Roderick how he had found them prowling the grounds, and next said, “Prepare them for the
Aurora.
Watch them closely, too. I don’t want them to try any pranks.”

“Walter is betrothed to my sister. Can we spare the man for her sake?” Roderick did not beg, but flatly asked.

Maguire thought a moment. “He can stay here with you until I get back. We’ll discuss it then.” Apparently, as an added thought, he said, “And, you better both be here.”

Roderick didn’t appear offended. “I will be,” he simply stated.

Maguire snapped his fingers. Lewis stepped from the shadows. He handed Maguire a revolver.

* * * *

The ship’s boat bobbed unmercifully in the water. Elizabeth’s stomach roiled. Never had several miles seemed so long. Maguire made Christian row, and with each dip and
pull he performed with the oars, she came closer to upheaving her dinner. Had this fact not upset her so, she would have been terrified to be on the water. Not even the knowledge that Maguire planned some dramatic end to their life concerned her now. Perhaps the man would shoot her to put her from her misery.

“You’ll do better when we get to the bigger ship,” Christian suggested.

“I don’t care,” she moaned in reply from her position across from him.

Maguire laughed. “We’re almost there.” He sat with his pistol aimed at Christian’s head. Lewis sat behind Christian with his weapon pointed to his heart.

In another ten minutes, they linked up with the
Aurora.
Someone on board the ship dropped a rope ladder. Anxious to leave the smaller ship’s boat, she stood on wobbly legs. This, combined with the choppy sea nearly tossed her overboard, but Christian instantly caught her and guided her to the rope ladder.

“You’re going to have to help, Elizabeth. The ladder is unsteady. We both need two hands to climb up it.” Christian lowered her booted feet to one of the lower rungs of the ladder. He still held her upper torso. “I’ll be right behind you so you won’t fall.” He helped her place her hands on the ropes.

She clung to them and hung in place for a moment. As sick as she was, a glow on the water near the hull of the ship caught her attention. “Go back,” she said with panic in her voice. “The ship is on fire.”

“Get your arse up the ladder,” Maguire ordered. “Either that or drop dead into the sea, but you’ll not return to this boat.”

“The ship is on fire,” she yelled, thinking perhaps she should drop into the sea. It would be quicker than to burn to death.

“The ship is not on fire, Elizabeth. It’s only a glow. Please, my love, move up the ladder.”

It took a great deal of her strength, but she did as Christian asked for his sake. The instant her legs touched the deck, she was overcome by the urge to lie prone and she collapsed to the floor.

Christian lifted her and held her to him like a limp doll.

“Please. Let me lie,” she begged him. “I’m dying.”

He lifted her and carried her to an open section of the deck where she could lie down. “You’re not dying. You’re simply seasick.”

Maguire walked over to them. “Get her up.”

“Why didn’t you kill us when we were at the ruins?” Christian said. He knelt by her side. “Why cart us to your ship?”

“Get her to her feet,” Maguire ordered.

Christian obeyed, and she stared at him. If she were to throw up, she’d do so on him.

“Pay attention, now. I brought you to the ship, because I wanted you to see the results of Elizabeth’s fine artwork. I’m rather proud of my operation, but I can’t tell too many people about it.” He laughed and continued, “In fact, I’m the reason for this delicious rumor that spread like wildfire up and down the eastern coast.”

“What’s that?” Christian asked.

“The tale of the red glow. Come. I’ll show you.”

They followed Maguire down several decks to the water level of the ship. She could not stand on her own. Closer to the bottom of the ship, the motion was greater. God in heaven, all she wanted to do was be left alone.

Maguire walked over to her and raised her chin. “Look around you.”

She struggled to hold her head up.

He walked over to a coal fire nestled in a bed of sand. He motioned to one of his men, who apparently guarded the fire, to step aside.

“Coal fuels the fires to make the molds for the counterfeit coins which are based on Elizabeth’s excellent drawings.” He walked over to several large open slots on the starboard side of the ship near the deck ceiling. Identical slots matched on the port side. “These slots are for ventilation and for the heat to escape. Though they are strategically placed to prevent fires, it is still risky. We have someone on watch at all times during operation. The red fiery heat casts a glowing reflection unlike lantern light onto the water and gives the illusion the water is on fire. ‘Tis not a bad omen at all except for you.” He laughed and continued. “The best part, though, is that since our counterfeiting takes place on the ship, and we’re never in one place, we’re impossible to track.”

“We’re both impressed,” Christian said.

Maguire’s eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips in a scowl before he ordered, “Take them to the upper deck. I’ve grown tired of them.”

They made their way back up and once they stood outside under the moonless night, Maguire said, “I’m not a cruel man. I’ll give you a choice. You can jump overboard and try to swim to shore, though it’s much too far and the water is much too cold for you to survive. Or, you can end it faster. I’ll shoot you.”

She would have chosen to be shot, but before she could speak out, Christian said, “We’ll take our chances swimming.”

“At least let me die quickly,” she whispered to him. “I can’t swim.”

“I know,” he answered back. “Leave it to me.”

“I must say I’m surprised,” Maguire said. “Very well. Heave-ho. Overboard with you.”

“Any decent man would at least let us have one last meal in privacy,” Christian taunted Maguire.

“And we both know I’m a decent man,” Maguire responded. He told one of his seamen, “Take them to the galley. Let them help themselves; however stand guard outside the door. When they have had their fill, make sure they haven’t absconded with any of our knives or the like.”

Christian carried her as they followed the man to the galley.

“I can’t eat, Christian. I want this miserable feeling to end, and it will the minute we hit the water. You know I can’t swim.”

“Sh—say no more until we’re left alone.”

The minute the galley door shut behind them, Christian practically dropped her to the floor. She heard him bang the cabinet doors open and closed.

She tucked her legs up close to her stomach and lay down on her side on the floor. “Surely, you can’t be hungry at a time like this.”

“Nay. I’m not.”

“Come here then.”

When he continued his search, she said, “Christian, please. I’ve something I want to say to you.”

He came and knelt beside her. “What?”

“Our lives will be over soon. If I weren’t so sick, I’d be hysterical. Even so, I want you to know I love you.”

He placed his hand on her back and rubbed a circle. “And I love you.”

“You do?” she said, and raised her head a bit from the floor to see if he meant it.

“I do, but I haven’t given up yet. We’ve got so much to live for, and I’m not about to lose it all now.” He stood and resumed his search through the cabinets and rest of the galley.

She lowered her head to the cool spot on the floor and inwardly smiled. At least she would go to her sea grave with the knowledge that he loved her. As quickly as she thought it, she wondered if he had told her he loved her because they were doomed. “You weren’t just saying that because we’re about to die, were you?”

“Nay,” he answered and returned to her side. “Sit up and watch me,” he said.

She still had her doubts, but glanced up at him. He held a huge jar in his hands. “What is that?” she asked from her prone position.

“Lard. Now, sit up.” He helped prop her up against a leg of the heavy galley table.

“Oh, Christian. I can’t. The nausea is worse this way. Can’t you tell me why you’re holding ajar of lard while I lie here?”

“Nay. Damn it. Sit up and watch me.” He roughed her a bit by the shoulders. It jolted her into staying in place.

He removed the lid from the jar. The smell of hog fat wafted through the air. That was it. Her stomach rumbled. There was no holding back. She turned away from him. Her dinner finally left her.

“Thank God,” Christian said, totally unaffected. “You should feel somewhat better momentarily. Now watch.”

She turned her back to the offensive mess on the floor, wiped her mouth with the hem of her cloak, and obeyed.

Christian tossed off his coat, waistcoat and shirt and began to smear the lard all over his body. Not a part of his torso from his waist up remained untouched by the lard. He replaced his shirt and waistcoat, but left his coat where it was on the floor. “I want you to do the same all over your body while I finish with my lower half. Don’t miss any parts. Also do your feet.” He set the jar on the floor between them so they could share it.

“Why? I don’t want to. This stuff smells and makes me feel sick again. Besides, what good will it do anyway? I can’t swim, but if I could the icy-cold water would kill us first.”

“Damn it, woman. Will you never stop questioning me? I can swim, and the reason I want you to grease up is to protect us from the water. The layer of grease will help us retain our body heat. Sailors have been using this trick for years.”

A brief hope passed over her, but once
again
turned to doubt. “That’s great for you, but I still can’t swim.”

Angrily, he grabbed the jar from the floor, dipped his hand into it and dug out a gob of the lard. “Remove your cloak, shirt and breeches.”

“Nay.” She gripped the front of her cloak closed.

“You can smear this on you, or I can, but I assure you, you will be greased.”

A loud bang sounded on the galley door. “Ye’ve got ten minutes, and Maguire wants ye back on deck,” a gruff voice spoke through the door.

“For me, Elizabeth. I love you.”

She gazed on his handsome face and ripped off her cloak and clothing. She took the gob from his hands with one of hers and began to smear it all over her body. He proceeded to do the same with his lower half.

When both of them were completely smeared with the lard, even their faces, they got dressed. Her nausea returned to her. She returned to her prone position on the galley floor while Christian rummaged through the cabinets once more. “Now, what are you searching for?” she asked.

“A short candle. Ah, I’ve got one.”

“Why?”

He stepped over her to get to several storage bins just beyond her. She raised her head to watch him. He lit the candle and placed it in one of the bins. He left the lid slightly ajar for air to circulate. “Are you trying to start a fire?”

“Aye. That’s exactly right. I want that son of a bitch Maguire caught” He helped her to her feet. “I’m hoping the fire slowly spreads before the crew can douse it. Then it will cause enough damage to catch the attention of someone along the shore, despite it being the wee hours of morn.”

He led her to the door. If the guard were to check the
galley, at a glance, he’d not notice the candle in the closed storage bin. It would be too soon for anything to burn and catch his attention. More than likely, he’d spot the mess on the floor first anyway. Between that and the odor of hog fat, any smell from the candle would be minor.

“I’m scared,” she said. With death near, fear instantly replaced her seasickness.

Christian had reached for the door latch and let go. He hugged her to him. “I know, but remember I’ll be with you.”

He was trying to comfort her. She loved him with her whole heart for it. Yet, this fact did not dismiss her fears. She suddenly grew cold and started to shake uncontrollably. Christian said naught. He opened the door to the guards.

One briefly perused the galley. The other made a face, and said, “Ye made a right big mess, ye have. And ye stink, but I still have to check ye.”

He did so with no struggle from them and motioned them to go above deck. It was at this point she determined, she would maintain her dignity. “I’d like your assistance until we’re in front of Maguire. At that point, I want to stand by myself. I’ll not let the man strip me of my pride.”

Christian squeezed her to him and kissed the top of her head. “Keep your spirit.”

Moments later, they stood on the deck under a moonless sky. The glow from the coal fires illuminated the water. She was petrified.

“I trust you found the coffer plentiful for your last meal,” Maguire said. “As for the lard, that old sailor trick won’t spare you from your icy death. We’re too far from shore for anyone to successfully swim.”

“Lower the plank!” he shouted to a crew member.

The seaman obeyed.

Maguire said, “You know I don’t believe in killing unless I have to and even then I try to be merciful. Go to the
plank. At anytime you decide you’d rather be shot, I’ll have one of the crew do you the favor.”