To None But Me

His Raven

The weather stayed calm—calmer than normal for this time of year, but the crew dared not complain, a suspicious lot. Most were Scotsmen, a few Frenchmen scattered amongst their ranks, and all had varying ideas as to what constituted luck—ill or otherwise. Some sneered at their captain for allowing so many women on board, but they were soon quelled. Marriages between prostitutes and criminals, it seemed, only perpetuated such deplorable acts, and the quarters below deck were rife with fights.

The majority of the crew, though, were happy enough to have willing women so nearby. Erik watched it all unfold with disdain, staying close to Captain Robert Cameron and his first mate, Charles Ross, as much as was possible. Both men seemed to favor Erik more each day, and after a fortnight, he was invited to dine with the Captain that evening.

To be fair, Robert Stuart Cameron found Erik's young bride quite enchanting, and yearned for time in which to spend in her presence, as he'd only seen her just the once. Erik had been rather excellent at keeping her hidden away, but he couldn't blame him for doing so; every man that had witnessed her little jaunt onto the main deck that fine morning had bolstered the story until it seemed to be of mythic proportions.

Erik had married an Irish faerie queen, they said.

Robert scoffed at such proposals, yet secretly he believed there to be some truth to such tales; being from the Highlands, he was as superstitious as they came.

The captain of La Belle was in his late forties, and had been sailing since he was a boy. In that time, he'd never once sought to marry, for doing so meant he'd be giving part of his soul to a land-bound creature, and much like Erik, his spirit belonged to the sea. It was lonely at times, to be sure, the long nights spent alone in a cold bed, but every so often God would grace his life with a striking woman, and he would appreciate her from afar.

He'd come to France often throughout his maritime career, and had made rather solid connections with the more elite of society. It was helpful during their Scottish Rebellion of 1715, just a few short years ago. Discontent with how that rebellion had panned out, he'd gone in search of more money France had to offer, a patriot to his very core.

Sitting at the head of his dining table, he ensured his staff supplied him with the finest whisky on board, as well as an array of meats and delicacies. He wanted nothing more than to see Erik's bride give a true smile, for he knew that upon seeing that, he could last another forty years alone at sea.

***

The sky, Brigid thought, was rather dreamy tonight. The waters were calm, the clouds a brilliant yellow and blue and orange tinged with the faintest hints of pink. Her small window offered her enough of a glimpse to satisfy her curiosity day by long, dragging day. Erik often left before sunrise, and came back well after sunset. She was just as happy to be alone, even if she was cooped up, for she knew the alternative would mean her being put on display for the crew.

She'd already rifled through the trunk numerous times, her heart racing each time she did so at the prospect of being caught. Her searches never turned up anything of worth, though—nothing damming enough to pin on her broad shouldered husband. There were a few trinkets, weapons of all sorts, and clothes for the both of them, which was all rather mundane.

In short, Brigid was left with more time alone than anything, which forced her to reflect upon her life until this point. Her heart and head were in Ireland, as they always would be, and she knew she'd make it home, damn the consequences. There was something nagging at her, though, something persistent and aggravating and turning her mood more and more sour each day.

Erik would often leave before she even woke, and arrive back when she was already fast asleep. He never touched her, he never climbed into bed with her or attempted to get to know her any better. Perhaps he was exhausted, she thought, for he seemed to work hard enough to keep the entire ship running by his strength alone.