The door burst open and Fern leaped to her feet, ready to run and flee whatever was about to attack. As her sleep filled eyes adjusted to the moonlit room, she saw that it was Ensign Jones who had hurled himself through the doorway, his eyes wildly going back and forth scanning the darkened room.
“What's wrong?” she asked.
“I'm sorry ma'am but the Captain is needed urgently.”
He scrambled toward a switch and light glared down upon her as she blinked from its shocking appearance. His eyes were still flitting around the room and she realized he expected the Captain to be with her.
“He's in there.” Fern pointed with one hand, covering her eyes with other, as she watched the stumbling Ensign Jones make his way to the bedroom door.
He didn't need to open it because it swung open as he was about to push and he almost landed in the arms of the Captain. The Captain grabbed his collar and pulled him into the room with him, abruptly shutting the door behind them.
Fern could only make out the Captain's lowered tones and the pleading voice of the young ensign but didn't understand what was said. She heard the Captain murmur something else and the Ensign ramble into a long spiel that Fern could make no sense of, no matter how acutely she tried to attune her ears.
The door was thrust open and out came a pale Ensign Jones, he was trembling as he rushed past Fern barely even noticing her presence. He left so quickly that he didn't even close the door behind him. A practise she noticed everyone on the ship adhered to. Quietly she moved across the room and closed it, glimpsing the last of his fleeing body as he exited the corridor.
Making her way back to the sofa, she sat down, and pulled the blanket over herself as if she hadn’t left it. The bedroom door opened and out strode the Captain his face stern for a few seconds but soon turned into a forced smile as he looked at Fern.
“I have had some unfortunate news Fern.” He came toward her as if he were about to protect her with his life. “A member of my crew has been injured by one of the land creatures. They are abominations but these things hide themselves so well during the day that they’re hard to track and kill…I would like to kill them all, they are such a travesty against nature.”
He sat next to her, holding her hand, gently stroking it as he spoke. “I must leave you alone for a short time. I have a request to make. In fact it is more than a request; it is something that you must obey.” His eyes hardened briefly and then he smiled at her again. “No need to become so pale and silent. You are in no harm as long as you listen to what I say and abide by it.”
He gazed toward the door as if the terrible creature he talked of would suddenly tear it asunder to get them. His voice softened, coaxing as he raised his hand to her face, sliding his fingers gently down her cheek to her jaw and beneath where he raised her slightly drooped head.
“You must not under any circumstances leave this room. You mustn’t allow anyone in other than me. When I leave you will lock the door. On my return I will knock once and call Fern and then knock twice and call Fern. On the second call you will let me in.”
His eyes held hers and she felt a cold chill run through her, making her shudder. He misunderstood and thought it was fear she felt and pulled her into his arms. With his face in her hair, she could hear him breathe, heard him sniff her scent, making her feel a different discomfort.
“You are safe in here but only if you stay in here. Don’t be inquisitive; even though it is in your nature…do not! That is a warning Fern, a very serious warning, that must not at any costs be disobeyed!”
He held her away from him and searched her face for her understanding. She nodded as fervently as she could and he gave her a smile as he dropped his face toward hers and placed a kiss upon her cheek.
“See, I can be a gentleman Fern. I am your gentleman and you are my lady. Stay a lady Fern, do what your gentleman asks.”
“I will,” she whispered, lowering her head for in case more unwelcome kisses came her way.
“Good girl.”
She was surprised at how fast he was across the room and out the door. Staring at it, she heard him shout back to her.
“Lock the door Fern.”
Running as quickly as she could, she hastily locked it; she didn't want him to return for a long time. Leaning close to the switch, she flicked it and was enclosed in darkness. Her eyes quickly adjusted and with the help of the moonlight, she moved back to the sofa. Sitting, she pulled her legs up to her chest onto the seat and she rocked back and forth. Her emotions were terribly unsettled. Trying to calm herself, she started to hum an old tune that she used to sing with Oak. What was wrong with her? Yes, there was commotion on the ship, but what had that sensation been the cold chill and feeling of dread?
She knew it was not that late into the evening and she had only slept for an hour if that, but she had already had dreams. They were dreams of violence. She dreamt she was running through the camp and everyone else was running too. They were all screaming in fear with terror in their hearts, desperate to escape. What had they been running from? Shaking her head she continued to rock, she quieted her questions.
She put it down to the excitement of the day, so much had happened and so much more was to happen, but what? Pleasant dinners? Keeping the Captain's lust at bay? It was too much to think of. She wanted to surrender to the dark in the hope that sleep would eventually take its hold and drain her body of the tension that held her. Perhaps, even keep allayed her tortured sub-conscious. She lay her head down, pulling the blanket around her as tears flowed down her cheeks. Sleep took its hold as she escaped to blankness.
**********
When Elm stepped out of the boat he came face to face with a Lakeller. The boy grabbed his tied hands and pulled him toward another crew member. Both were burly, it seemed all the Lakellers were. Their life, Elm gathered, involved one of strength, heaving and hauling chains, lines, carrying goods. Their every day involved tasks that took muscular attributes to perform. He looked at the stocky boy before him, his hazel eyes, dark pulled back hair and crisp uniform. He held a stern expression of authority.
“Are you the one who saved Madden's life?” the boy demanded.
“Yes,” replied Elm studying him and thinking that this boy was more than he seemed.
He could hear Gisburn still quietly sobbing as he was being led away. He was insisting he should stay with Madden and the other boy's low voice was telling him he couldn't. His attention was brought back to the person before him as he spoke.
“It may have all been in vain but I thank you.” The boy made a quick assessment of him before he continued. “I am Captain Laroche, welcome on board my ship, the Genoa.”
He put out his hand to shake Elm's and as Elm placed his tied hands forward the Captain bellowed.
“Release this boy's hands.”
One of his officer's hastily ran to them, brandishing a knife that he quickly slit the ropes with.
“He is to remain tied.” Pine's voice rose above the commotion. “He is a possible traitor and therefore untrustworthy. He may try to escape.”
He strode toward them, the moonlight glinting from his determined eyes. The three huge ship masts cast shadows across the deck, one of them obscuring the expression on the Captain's face but Elm saw a spark of anger; it quickly diminished becoming no more than a shadow itself. It was replaced with a smile and the look of someone wise talking patiently to his student.
“My crew are on deck at all times. They watch the boats. This boy cannot leave unless he plunges into the waters of the lake, where as you know he will not come out alive.” Holding Pine’s stare he continued with a deeper and more menacing tone. “I will not have him restrained on my ship.”
He stood before Pine, the two burly intimidating boys seeming to stare each other down. Pine's challenge still hovered upon him, his tightened jaw twitched slightly as he looked upon the condescending smile of the Captain.
It was Pine who bent his head slightly forward as he conceded to the Captain. “Then he will remain free and I will adhere to your request. I will myself, personally make sure that he does not overstep his bounds.”
Pine bowed his head once more in a gracious manner and the Captain grabbed his hand brusquely and introduced himself. “I am Captain Laroche, welcome to the Genoa.”
“I am Pine and these are my defenders. We will all abide by your rules upon this ship.”
Pine's gaze was cast about the ship and crew, taking in the hurrying Lakellers as they quickly and proficiently bustled about the deck. He pulled his eyes away and back toward the Captain.
“I am very glad that you have come to our aid Captain. We are all thankful for this passage across the lake and in such a splendid vessel. I admire how efficiently your crew have come together to get ready for the journey.”
Pine gave an appreciative smile as the Captain's smile broadened. Elm could see that Pine's diplomatic comments had already gained him good stead with the Captain. Bitterly, he chewed upon the fact. The Captain grabbed Elm’s hand, his hand was hot upon Elm's cool one and Elm was once more aware that there was more fire and energy within this boy than was obvious.
“And what is your name?”
“I am Elm.”
“Elm, I don't know your circumstances but my rules will be obeyed and followed directly. Any noncompliance, no matter how slight, shall result in that person no longer being on board my ship. I don't care if we are near land or far out in the lake. Their presence will no longer frequent my ship.” Emphasis was placed upon the last sentence as he watched Elm’s response.
Elm nodded his head in acknowledgement and satisfied the Captain dropped his hand and gave all his attention to Pine. Lifting his hand once more he slowly and deliberately placed his palm upon Pine’s shoulder diminishing Pine’s appearance of control, like a wolf would take down an opponent to be alpha male. All Pine could do was be acquiescent as he waited for what the Captain had to say.
“I request Pine that you make that fact known to all of your defenders.”
Pine once more bowed his head in subservience and the Captain gave a sound of approval. Turning he made his way toward Madden, who was being attended to by the Chief Surgeon. Two Lakellers were stood waiting beside him for instructions.
Elm decided there was a lot more to the Captain and he was determined he would make sure he found out further information about him. Elm watched as the Captain went down on his haunches to look at Madden. The Chief Surgeon was shaking his head and Elm felt a shriek inside him at the thought that after all he had done, that Madden might still die. Striding over, ignoring Pine's grasp upon his arm and tearing away from his hand, he made his way to the Chief Surgeon.
“I am sure he can be saved.” Two sets of eyes looked up at him and the Captain slowly raised himself to eye level.
“Go ahead Elm, go with my Chief Surgeon and help him save the life of my Chief Petty Officer.”
Looking down at the Chief Surgeon and the boys at his side, the Captain commanded. “Take Madden to the surgery. Dr. Consilla, take Elm with you.”
Dr. Consilla was upon his feet and looking briefly toward Elm to whom he nodded, he requested, “Follow me.”
The doctor quickly strode after the crew members carrying Madden. Elm waited for no-one’s permission to leave the deck. He knew Pine was not fool enough to go against his attempt to save Madden's life and he also knew he would be quietly seething at his budding relationship with the Captain. They were both on an equal standing now and Elm liked the better odds.
He heard the dropping of the square sails on the masts as he hastily travelled across the deck. He was aware of the shadows they cast before him, like the old chess boards in the camp. His thoughts roamed. Was he nothing more than a pawn moving toward his opponent or was he a knight fighting for his queen? Was Fern his queen? He knew he loved Fern; there was no-one else that sent his blood pressure high. No other that he wanted to watch constantly, fascinated by her every move.
When had he realized he was jealous of Oak? Oak, who could have her, but shrugged her off like she was falling snow. He didn't know when the jealousy had started, perhaps long ago, he couldn't remember. Was he fighting for his clan or was he fighting for Fern's love? For once Elm queried himself and his goals. He would do what was right for his clan he concluded, they needed change, they needed freedom and he would give them that.
He was going down steps and turning to more steps where he walked along a corridor following the blue uniformed shoulders of Dr. Consilla. The corridors were well lit and he was glad when they finally turned into an open door and a brightly lit room containing a metal table on which Madden was being placed. Looking around the room, Elm heard Dr. Consilla direct the two crew members.
“Clean off the blood and take off the rest of his clothing. I need to wash my hands.”
He saw the doctor walk to a sink in one corner and turn the water on. The others approached wetting towels and quickly turned, moving to the table where they cleaned Madden's wounds. The doctor had washed his hands and handed Elm a bar of soap, so he quickly washed and followed the doctor to the table. The doctor looked expectantly at him and he realized it was now time for him to take action.
Although Pine had taken his sword he had left him with his woven bag. Reaching inside he took out the small bag of niaphron root powder. Checking Madden he noted that the wounds were clean but still bleeding, the shoulder had a puncture wound, the arm a tear where the canine tooth had ripped through. Pouring the niaphron powder onto both wounds he waited and was gratified to see bubbles and the bleeding stop. Dr. Consilla was leaning over him, looking with interest at what he was doing. They both raised themselves upright together and Elm could see the question in the doctor’s eyes.
“It is the powder from the niaphron root. We stumbled upon its healing properties a while ago and have carried it with us ever since.”
The doctor nodded his head in interest. “We shall see whether he pulls through, he’s lost a lot of blood and will be at risk of infection but we are lucky enough to have antibiotics. I’ll give him an injection.”
Elm’s eyebrows raised in admiration. “You know about antibiotics and how to give injections?”
Dr. Consilla smiled, his face changing as his old memories returned to him. “My father was a doctor. When it was realized that I had potential in the field I was sent to the hospital to work with him.”
Elm gave him a look of surprise. “But you would have been so young?”
The doctor gave an understanding smile. “The Regime wanted those that were useful to be put to work immediately and to be honest I was glad to be able to leave the house everyday and not study at home. The hospital was fascinating and although I was terrified at first, my father was very supportive and eased my worries. He was always at my side and consoling when there were bad situations.”
Elm’s interest was sparked even more. “What were the bad situations?”
He watched Dr. Consilla’s face darken for a moment until he quickly slid the thoughts he’d had away. “They’re over; we don’t need to bring them up.”
Dr. Consilla strode to a large unit that was built into the wall. He went to the drawer and pulled out a syringe, then going to the cupboard above he pulled out a small bottle of clear fluid. Taking the cover off of the syringe needle he inserted it into the top of the bottle.
“I’m concerned about the puncture wound. They’re difficult to heal, prone to infection and usually need to be drained, but the amount of blood he has lost worries me the most. He’s very weak and our efforts may still not help him survive.”
He was drawing from the upside down bottle, taking the amount he required. Elm watched as he placed the bottle back into the cupboard. He’d noticed how the doctor had quickly changed the conversation.
Dr. Consilla went to Madden and inserted the needle in his arm. Elm noted what he was doing; this was a practice that may help him later.
Leaning toward him he murmured, “I am impressed by your knowledge.” Elm figured flattery would serve him best to become friendly with the doctor. “My access to niaphron root powder is my only claim to medical credibility. I'm fascinated by what you're doing doctor, I would like to learn.”
He smiled obsequiously at Dr. Consilla who nodded at him and taking the needle off the syringe tossed it into a disposal unit.
“We use the same syringes as often as possible, they're so difficult to find. I recycle the ones I use, placing them in the autoclave to sterilize them. The needles will be re-used also but we have to use a dangerous substance to make them sterile again. So we wait until we have large batches. We already lost one of our crew due to poor handling of the product; we're even more careful now and only use it when absolutely necessary.”
He went into a different drawer taking out packages, which he carefully opened. “I'm going to put on sterile dressings, again something that we're in short supply of. We're always looking for more but they're hard to find.”
Dr. Consilla carefully checked the puncture wound at Madden's shoulder, cut a piece of dressing and placed it onto the wound. With another clear dressing he stuck it to Madden's skin to cover it.
“Such a difficult place to bandage but the dressing I have here will seal it nicely. The dressing underneath is a silver mesh with antimicrobial properties. I wish we could get more of it.”
He moved on to dress Madden's arm and he cut the silver mesh dressing again being careful as he placed a clear dressing on top of it.
“These dressings should be good for up to seven days and will absorb any discharge, whilst preventing infection.”
Looking down upon his work Dr. Consilla gave a small satisfied nod and instructed the two Lakellers to take Madden to his own quarters.
“Mister Elm would you care to join me for a drink? I think we may have both helped to save officer Madden's life and should celebrate.”
His ruddy face smiled warmly at Elm and Elm found himself nodding in consent even though he was unsure what kind of drink he was about to share.
Dr. Consilla placed an arm around Elm's shoulders and in a conspiratorial tone said, “It’s a fine whisky I managed to get my hands on, a single malt that is ambrosia upon the tongue.” He winked.
Elm was at a loss at what to do so he smiled and added, “I am keen to try it.”
This caused the doctor’s smile to widen more as he pushed Elm out the door telling him to turn left and go to the second door on the right. Elm stopped outside the door and the doctor grabbed the door handle and opened it to a dark room. Flicking a switch, light sprung to life and Elm saw a furnished comfortable room with two closed doors. The room held a desk, table, chairs and a sofa. Closing the door as Elm passed through, the doctor pointed to the sofa. He indicated that Elm sit down, whilst he fixed him a drink. Elm sat listening to the opening of a door, then the clinking of glasses, bottles, and the sound of liquid being poured. Dr. Consilla walked toward him with his hand outstretched, a glass of amber fluid in it, his other hand containing the exact same.
Elm took the glass and sniffed the contents. It smelled like the forest floor after the rain and he found himself feeling quite homesick.
The doctor raised his glass. “To Madden!” He took a swig of the fluid and gave a pleasurable sigh. “Drink Mister Elm, drink!”
Elm took a sip of the liquid. Even though he’d drunk only a small amount he found the fluid took over his whole mouth in a rush on his senses. He felt a little overwhelmed by it and sat staring at the glass in his hand, amazed at what sensations the liquid gave.
The doctor was already taking another drink, so Elm did the same, this time braving a deeper draw upon it. His cough made the doctor laugh.
“It's as smooth as silk! How can you cough at something that slides down your throat like the wind off the sails of the ship?”
“This is a demanding substance. It certainly gives a glorious sensation but I'm only used to water and juice. This is beyond anything I’ve ever tried.”
The doctor sat down with Elm and laughing gave him a slap on the back.
“This is indeed more than any juice or water and will fill you with warmth and happy thoughts.”
“Now that is something I would like!” replied Elm, drinking more of the glowing substance.
He was feeling calmer about things. It was as if his thoughts were taking a rest and letting him just hover in a haze of oblivion. Taking a final large drink he laid his head back and closed his eyes. He could feel the glass being taken from him and his feet being pushed up onto the sofa, but his defender reactions were dormant as was his whole body. There was a distant clink of glasses and then a click, soon after which everything was dark. He knew this even though he never opened his eyes. A door opened and closed and he was surrounded by silence. Inside his head a blurred vision of the forest was before him, as the last residual smell of whisky left his nostrils the image vanished into black.