Sequel to CAPSIZE
The adventure continues as Celia finally escapes Elizabeth's iron grasp, but the horrors that await the recently free, seemingly happy couple surpass their expectations.
Set in 1500s America
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Death aboard a vessel was never pretty, that was something Celia should have expected.
Yet, Celia held Harry's hand with a constricting grip as she watched Daniel's body be heaved overboard by crewmen. It hurtled down to the water with a woosh. A splash followed. The crowd dispersed. No prayer, no fond words, no remembrance of the man he was. Just the removal of his decaying body.
"We must move on," Harry said.
Celia gazed out at the horizon. The sun sunk below the sea, transforming the colorful sky that was once painted with wisps of orange and pink to a murky darkness. She wiped away a tear that had found itself rolling down her cheek. "In my time of need, he was there. Always."
"I will be there for you, Celia." His statement came out almost as if he were trying to convince himself rather than her.
She closed her eyes briefly and inhaled slowly. Her curls danced in the wind as a gust of crisp sea air blew away her fear. She reopened her eyes. Stars shone bright over the ocean. Combined with the moon, they casted light onto the ship. She shifted her body towards Harry and dropped his hand. "You may not have been ready for the commitment that our union brought last year, but you need to be now."
"We are close to Virginia. That can be our fresh start," Harry said, his voice strewn with hope.
Celia lacked the optimism that he seemed to always contain. "I need you to love me as much as you love the sea and the freedom that comes with it, and I'm not so sure you can do that. Not for me, at least."
"How could you say something like that? You're my wife, the mother to our child."
"Look at where we are," she said plainly.
His features fell. "I will be a better husband. After our time in Virginia, we will return to England. Live near your sister, perhaps. I will get a practical job, one that allows our family to prosper together."
She searched his emerald eyes, desperately wanting his statement to be true. "Promise?"
Celia's words hung in the air by a thread, dangling in front of Harry's eyes. He studied them carefully before forming the words on his lips. He had to be sure. She knitted her brows together at his lack of response. He noticed this and scrambled for words.
"I promise, my dear."
✿
On occasion, Celia thought could hear the low voice of Daniel echoing in her ears. She would whip around to find no one. Her heart would sink every time.
Without Beatrice's company, she felt empty. Daniel filled that void, only to be removed in an instant by a series of convulsions, an unknown ailment that would render its victim lame or mute or dead. Andrew claimed it to be rare, only having seen it a total of three times in his life. The victims shared a common thread of symptoms; the slurring of words, drooping lips, and convulsions.
Celia found herself thanking God that he went quick. There were horror stories of plagues spreading throughout the ships en route to the New World that took their time taking the lives of passengers. Slowly working their way through the veins and poisoning organs one by one until the body could take no more. At least Daniel's death was fast and, as far as Celia knew, painless.
Standing on the bow of the ship with her hands wrapped tightly around the splintering railing, she squinted her eyes as she looked into the distance.
It had been one month since Daniel had passed. Harry had kept his promise to be a better husband, spending more time with his daughter and cherishing his wife every chance he could get. Celia was thankful for this, but as a blurry mass of greenery manifested in the distance, worry slithered its way to the forefront of her mind. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, but the land was still there, its size growing as the ship cut through the water and sailed toward it.
Pushing away the doubt that afflicted her, she whipped her head around to face the deck. "Harry!" she shouted.
He stood on the weather deck with a map in hand. At the sound of his name, he looked up. Celia smiled wide, her eyes glittering in the sunlight that broke through the puffy clouds. Rolling up the map and stuffing it into the hands of the quartermaster, he strode across the deck and stood beside Celia on the bow. He took a brass telescope out of the pocket of his coat and extended it to its full length. As he held it up to his eye and spotted land in the distance, his lips curled into a smile, revealing his teeth and carving out dimples in his tanned cheeks.
He collapsed the telescope and shoved it back into his jacket pocket. With his hands now free, he turned to Celia and cupped her face. Attacking her in a kiss, butterflies erupted in her stomach. Taken back to their victory against the Spanish on the Golden Tide, Celia smiled against his mouth and wrapped her hands around his waist. Their bodies were closer than they had been in days. Celia felt happy again.
She pulled away from the kiss and smiled up at him. "A fresh start," she said softly.
He nodded and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "A fresh start."
✿
The boat reached the shore by noon. Men began to push a wooden wheel, cranking it around and around until the clanging of the iron chain sounded and the anchor lowered into the water with a splash. It slowly sunk to the bottom of the ocean.
Celia stood beside Ana, who held Nerissa in her arms, on the weather deck. They watched as another group of men readied the lifeboats. A pair handling the first boat nodded to Harry.
"Ready?" he asked as he neared Celia, his strides long and brisk.
She nodded. He extended his arm and offered his hand, which she took with her own. They walked across the deck to the lifeboat and settled themselves inside. Ana joined them with a firm grip on the child.
A crew member then hopped inside, an oar in each hand. He handed one to Harry and took a seat next to him.
The two men holding onto the ropes that secured the boat whistled, sending two more men running over to them. Slowly, they began to release the rope and lower the boat into the water.
Celia sat across from Harry. She anxiously tapped her fingers against the side of the boat. He noticed this and reached for her hand, placing his atop her's to stop the constant drumming. She flicked her eyes upward and mustered a tight-lipped smile. He nodded assuringly.
The boat finally came in contact with the ocean. With a splash, water sprayed the passengers, misting their bodies. Harry and the unnamed man began to row the boat toward the island, slicing through the gentle waves that aided in their attempt to reach land.
Once close to shore, Harry and the man leaped out of the boat and into the water. Curling their hands around the wood, they heaved the boat onto the sand.
Celia rose to her feet and inhaled the air, allowing the wind to brush through her hair and tickle her cheeks as it welcomed her to the New World. She placed her hand in Harry's palm and stepped onto the sand, her feet sinking into the soaked land as the water lapped against the shore.
