The Queen's Admiral

Chapter 29: Isabel's Gift

My hands trembled as I read those last words.  A grim picture of a vulnerable, depressed Admiral Westergard was the last thing I expected from Admiral Rochport's memoirs.  The horrors of his time as a slave were described so vividly I felt my throat tighten.  And what about the girl Isabel? Could it be possible that she was the same Isabel that captivated me with her smile and was now sleeping just a few decks above me?  I blinked back the tears and read on...

 

10th of July

That Southern Isles usurper must have been made of tougher stuff than I gave him credit.  For a week I waited for the report that told me of his death, but it never came.  This morning, I went down to the docks and found him not just alive and breathing but already sitting up on his bed and occasionally limping about in makeshift crutches.  His face and body still bore scars, but otherwise his appearance was greatly improved.  The nurse in charge told me he was doing well and was on the road to recovery.  She gave glowing reports that he was always polite to the staff and spent most of his time with little Isabel. 

The nurse let me observe him from a distance.  I watched him tend to Isabel who lay on a cot.  He seemed to be telling her a story for her eyes looked upon him with wide-eyed fascination. 

He began to sing.  His voice didn't have the same power as I remembered but he still maintained a melodious tenor that echoed through the tents.   It was like a siren song for it seemed to call a number of the medical staff and a few patients to peer in and watch.  He sang it in a foreign language that I was sure nobody in the tent understood.   But the melody and his expression brought forth emotions in me that reminded me of the saddest moments of my life.  It made me recall the day I was told my only son perished in the same ship that took the life of my king and best friend.

I noticed that I was not the only one who was touched for I saw that all around me, people were blinking back tears. 

"Prince Charming has done it again," the young nurse I was speaking to said as she dabbed a handkerchief to her eyes.  He's been doing that a lot.  It helps her sleep."

"Prince Charming?" I asked curiously.

"That's what we call him," replied the nurse.  He refuses to tell us his name.  But that little girl keeps calling him "Prince" and he is quite the charmer so we sort of just stuck to that nickname.  He has such devotion to her.  For the first few days we thought he wouldn’t make it. He’s cracked several ribs, torn a few ligaments and has multiple contusions.  But he’s a fighter.  I think the girl helped him more than any medicine could.  I think she’s the only reason he made the effort to live.  Do you know him Captain Rochport?”

“Yes,” I replied.  “I don’t want to alarm anyone, but he is a criminal.”

The nurse looked shocked.  “I didn’t realize.  He looked so harmless.  Have you come to arrest him?”

“I was going to but I don’t think he’s going anywhere in his current state.”  I watched as he tucked Isabel in like a gentle father.  “And he’s not inclined to hurt anyone so I’ll let him be until he fully recovers.  I don’t want to frighten anyone so please don’t tell anybody yet what I told you.  But I will have a guard stationed nearby at all times.”  I paused to watch Isabel breathe evenly in sleep and the man beside her gave a fervent kiss on her forehead.  “What about the girl, Isabel?  How is she?”

“She caught a fever two days ago,” the nurse replied.  “It seems to be an infection.   She’s not getting any better but we’re hoping he’ll do the same wonders for her as she did to him.”