Dawn on a Distant Shore (37 page)

In the darkened
sleeping cabin Hannah put Lily down in the cradle and covered her carefully.
Then she inched back to stand in the shadows near the door. She had left it
standing slightly open, so that from this angle she could see only a bit of
Curiosity's back and half of Giselle Somerville.

"I waited until
the doctor came up on deck," Giselle said.

"You don' trust
him, then."

A surprised laugh.
"Do you?"

Hannah wished to see
Curiosity's face, but then her long silence told quite a lot on its own.

Giselle's expression
was calm, too, as if they were discussing nothing more than the possibility of
a summer's outing. When she spoke her voice was very cool.

"You must pardon
my confusion," she said. "It was my impression that you were on this
voyage against your will."

Curiosity laughed, but
there was nothing cheerful in the sound. "Oh, you got it right. I never
did think to cross this sea. Never even cared to lay eyes on it. My mama
crossed it in chains when she weren't much older than Nathaniel's Hannah. Made
a slave of her, and she died a slave."

Hannah hugged her arms
closer around herself, afraid to breathe lest she miss even a word. From Giselle
Somerville there was no sound at all, but Curiosity seemed not to notice.

"Now, I been free
some thirty years," she continued. "My children were born free. I
s'pose somewhere deep inside I had "free" mixed up with
"safe." For a woman most especially it ain't the same thing, though,
is it?"

A flush was rising on
Giselle's neck. "No," she said. "It is not." She lowered
her gaze and then raised it again, so that Hannah realized suddenly what a
strange color her eyes were, violetlike in the very white face. She said,
"I am offering you an opportunity to get away."

Curiosity leaned
forward without any warning and simply thrust the sleeping Daniel into
Giselle's arms. Giselle let out a startled sound, and for the first time real
surprise showed on her face.

"Look at that
child," said Curiosity. "Pretty, ain't he? But he's made of blood and
bone. Look hard and think about this: if harm come to any of these children I
will have to answer to Nathaniel and Elizabeth, just as sure as one day I will
have to answer to my God."

"Take him
back," said Giselle, her voice trembling with outrage. "
Take him back."

When Curiosity had
done just that, Giselle said, "That was a very silly thing to do." Her
eyes blazed now, all her calm indifference gone. Her gaze flitted back to
Daniel and her color rose another notch. "Am I a young girl to lose my
wits over an infant? Did you think I would offer up some great secret with a
child in my arms?"

"My," said
Curiosity softly. "What a fuss over a little baby. As if you ain't never held
one before."

Giselle Somerville
froze, her face suddenly very still. "What do you mean by that?"

"Why, nothing at
all," said Curiosity. "What did you think I meant?"

After a moment Giselle
smiled. "I understand that the safety of the children is paramount. Listen
now and I'll tell you what opportunity I can offer, and you may take it or
leave it as you wish. It might be as much as a day from now, but sooner or later
a small ship will anchor nearby flying a particular signal flag. When that ship
is in sight, I will create a diversion on board and slip away to meet it. It
will all have to happen very quickly, for when this vessel shows itself the
Osiris
will be very close at hand."

Curiosity let out a
little laugh. "So, we are stopped to wait for the
Osiris
after
all."

"Yes. Of
course." Giselle was not in the least embarrassed to have been caught in a
lie.

"Well then,
missy, tell me this. Why would we want to run off, just when our people about
to catch us up?"

Giselle sighed.
"You mustn't forget what you know of Moncrieff. He will wait for the
Osiris
,
of course, but he is not enough of a fool to let Nathaniel Bonner get within
rifle range. No, the minute we see the
Osiris
within reasonable
distance, we will sail off again for Scotland."

"Now, wait a
minute," Curiosity said. "Seems to me you and Moncrieff been workin' together
for some time now. How does he fit into your little plan?"

Giselle's mouth pursed
with irritation. "I should say rather that Moncrieff was working for me,
although he did not realize it. It suited me to let him think that it was all
his plan, when in fact-- well." She pushed out a small breath. "I had
business to see to, and it suited me to use him."

Curiosity might have
spoken, but Giselle held up a hand to stop her. "If you leave the
Isis
with me we can signal the
Osiris
to stop and take you on board. Given the
fact that Carryck wants the child, there is no doubt that they would do
so."

"And we'd still
be on our way to Scotland," said Curiosity.

Giselle spread out her
hands on her lap. "Yes," she said simply. "But with Nathaniel and
Hawkeye watching over you, Moncrieff would not dare approach the
Osiris
to get you back, and thus you would all be together. Which seems to be the thing
you want most." She said this as if it were a mystery to her, and vaguely
amusing. She looked at Daniel.

"He's very dark
haired, isn't he?"

Curiosity shrugged.
"It ain't a surprise, looking at his folks."

Giselle looked away
suddenly. "If you do not care to come away with me, then a word of
warning."

"We cain't pay
you for your advice, Miz Somerville."

The younger woman
looked more annoyed than disappointed at this interruption. A frown line etched
its way down the pale brow. "Carryck wants this boy badly," she said.
"And there are others who will want him, too."

"Those Campbells,
I suppose," said Curiosity.

"I pity the man
who underestimates you." Giselle laughed. "Yes, the Campbells. It
suits them best that Carryck is without a male heir, and they will do what they
must to keep things that way. Do I make myself clear?"

Curiosity said,
"You do. And now let me speak plain, miss."

"I don't suppose
I could stop you," said Giselle with a half-smile that was meant to
disarm.

"I'm wondering
about you, how desperate you are. Who this man is you're running off with, and
what he's got in mind for these children. After all, they are worth something
to Carryck, or to those Campbells."

Giselle rose slowly.
She walked to the window and stood for a long minute watching the sky. With her
back still to Curiosity she said, "I could tell you any number of stories
that might satisfy you. Perhaps I should tell them all, and leave you to sort
out the truth. But in the end there is only one thing that matters: you can
take these children and get off this ship and away from Moncrieff, if you care
to."

"Is that so. And
I suppose you ain't ever heard tell about folks jumping out of a frying pan right
into the fire." Curiosity was rocking quietly now, one hand stroking
Daniel's back in a small circle.

Giselle turned from
the window. "You have no reason to trust me. Just the opposite. But let me
tell you something about myself, and perhaps it will change your mind." She
crossed her arms below her breasts and dropped her gaze to the floor. When she raised
her head, there was a glittering in her eye. "My mother was French, of
good family but modest resources. My father regretted the union. He speaks of
it as unfortunate and untimely, an indiscretion. He divorced my mother under
English law and sent her home to France. I have not seen her since. I do not
even know her real name, or if she is alive. Perhaps she has not survived the
Terror in France. But I do intend to find out, and the man I am meeting will
take me there. It was my one condition."

Curiosity made a
sound, but Giselle Somerville held her off with a raised hand.

"Please. I would
much prefer your silence to your sympathy. Now, you can take that story and
make of it what you will. I will send word when the time comes. It may be quite
soon, or it may not be until tomorrow night. You will act according to your
best judgment."

When she was gone,
Curiosity said, "Come on out here, child, and talk to me. What did you think
of that little story of hers?"

Hannah said, "She
never met your eye. I think she was lying."

Curiosity grunted
softly. "Maybe. Even if she weren't, it still don't sit right, none of
it."

"I don't think we
should go with her," said Hannah. "At least, not unless we get a good
look at the ship."

Curiosity got up with
a groan, and shifted Daniel to her shoulder. "That's just what we'll do,"
she said. "But pack the basket, just in case."

At dusk Hannah could
stand it no longer, and she went up on deck. She found a spot at the rail where
she thought she might not be in the way. The sailors ignored her; after a while
she began to relax, to take some pleasure in the fresh air and the wind. There
were fishing boats in the distance, and she wondered what kind of life it would
be to live on the water and to learn to read it as her people could read the
sky and the mountains.

"The
Indian," said a man's voice. "Come to worship the settin' sun, are
ye?"

The first officer
stood, hands folded behind him and his chin pressed to his chest. Mr. MacKay
was a big man, heavily built with a seaman's squint, a great shelf of a jaw, a
high sloping forehead, and a nose so short and mean it looked like it was
trying to burrow back into his skull. But it was his eyes that worried her,
alive with a moody curiosity that made her sorry to have come up on deck.

And no one else about,
and no way to get past him unless he let her go.

"Sir?"

"Have ye been
baptized in Christ?" He spoke so softly that she had to strain to hear
him.

It was a simple
question, and she did not want to answer it. But by his expression she knew
that she had no choice. "I was baptized, sir."

His eyes narrowed.
"Is that so? And wha guid man came among the savages to save ye from eternal
damnation?"

Hannah pressed her
back harder into the rail. "I don't remember him, sir. I was very small. A
Jesuit, I think."

The long face flushed
such a deep shade of red, and that so quickly, that Hannah's unease was pushed
aside with the thought that Mr. MacKay might be suffering a stroke before her
eyes.

His mouth twisted with
disgust. "Papists among the savages. Aye, and I heard tell o' sic travesties.
And the puir wee babbies, have they been damned wi' ye?"

Hannah looked about
hoping for a friendly face, but the sailor at the helm was watching the horizon.
Mr. MacKay was waiting for her answer, and so she shook her head.

"They are not yet
baptized, in any faith."

"Ach. There's
hope, then. Now you listen to me," Mr. MacKay began, in a more kindly fashion.
""The angels shall come forth, and take out the wicked from among the
righteous, and will cast them into the furnace of fire; there shall be weeping
and gnashing of teeth."" He thrust his face forward, within inches of
her own. "It's no' in your nature tae understan' the Holy Scripture--savage
and female, ava--but it's my duty tae tell the truth and shame the de'il. Lass,
ye're bound for hellfire should ye no' see the error o' yer ways."

"I must go,"
Hannah said, and her voice cracked. "I must go back to the Hakim
now."

"The Hakim. Anither
infidel." Mr. MacKay shook his head. "Innocent babes among the
heathens. Can a guid Christian stand by and watch?"

Hannah's blood beat
heavy in her ears, but she made herself speak up. She said, "Stay away
from us. Stay away from us all, or I'll tell Captain Pickering."

Mr. MacKay sucked in
his lower lip and pushed it out again. "And does it matter, wha ye tell?
The Almighty kens aa, and sees aa, and ye canna run fra' him tae yer Captain Pickering.
"His wrath is poured out like fire, and in the end ye will
burn.""

He rocked back and
forth on his heels, his mouth pursed thoughtfully. "Noo, tell me, lass.
Will ye be saved fra' yer infidel ways, ye and the wee ones wi' ye?"

"Mr. MacKay,
sir!" the bosun called. "The helmsman needs a word wi' ye, sir!"

"Hear me
now," he said, peering closely at her. "It's up tae ye whether the
babbies burn in hell. We'll talk agin."

Hannah forced herself
to breathe in and out as he walked away. When she could make her legs obey her,
she went below. And wondered if she would ever come back on deck again.

The
Jackdaw
was
seventy-five feet of hard-worn oak and peeling black paint, but as the St.
Lawrence widened toward the open sea something became clear to Nathaniel: the
schooner might have seen better days, but she still loved the wind and the wind
loved her back. It was true that they were twelve hours behind the
Isis
,
but there were other truths, too, and he didn't have to reach far for them:
they had an able captain who would stop at nothing to earn his prize, and while
the
Isis
idled along like a fat cow for home, the
Jackdaw
was a
cougar of a ship, fast and lean, carrying no cargo beyond provisions for a skeleton
crew of thirty, ammunition, and the monumental force of the Bonners' combined
fury.