Owned by the Ocean (17 page)

For five days
he skipped dinner, taking a small amount of food from the kitchen
and eating it alone up in the crow’s nest. Karl, for once, didn’t
interfere with Brant’s self-imposed exile. Matthew’s infection
raged on and he was becoming weaker and weaker with each passing
day. Brant begged the doctor to do something, anything to get him
better but he would only shake his head and say they were already
doing everything they could. The alcohol was killing everything,
bacteria good and bad, and yet the infection raged on. “What about
heat?” Brant asked one day. “Could we not kill the infection off
for good with heat? Cauterize the wound?”

The doctor
nodded. “We could, but I’m worried the infection will get locked
inside then. Cauterizing is best done before infection sets
in.”

“
So we have to continue to allow the wound to drain and hope
that one day the infection will die?”

“
It’s largely up to Matthew now. His body has to do most of
the fighting. We’re keeping it as clean as we can.”

“
He isn’t strong enough to do that anymore. He’s weaker every
day.”

“
I don’t think he’ll make it. I’m sorry, Captain.”

Brant shook
his head. “He’ll make it. You are going to do everything you can.
Try something new and get that infection killed. He’s going to make
it.”

“
It’ll be nothing short of a miracle if he survives
this.”

“
Miracles happen every day. Make me a miracle,
Doctor.”

The doctor
threw up his hands in frustration as Brant walked out. Never before
had Brant asked the impossible of anyone in his crew. He always
expected their best work but never the impossible but Brant
couldn’t have the boy die on his ship. He couldn’t accept that
there was nothing left, that someone so young would leave this
world because of the cruelty of man.

* * *

Catherine knew
little of what was occurring around the ship since her boredom had
yet to force her out of her cabin at any time other than dinner.
The captain's absence at dinner the past few days did not go
unnoticed, and was a welcome relief from the usually tense meals
they shared. But, after a week of obvious avoidance, Catherine was
beginning to feel like his absence was a personal affront. And, as
much as she hated to admit it, she was beginning to feel lonely.
So, gathering her pride she left the safe confines of her cabin and
found the quarter master, Karl.

“
What is wrong with the captain?”

“
What do you mean?”

“
He hasn’t been to dinner in over a week. Have I done
something to upset him?"

“
Nay, tis nothing to do with you, ma'am. The captain be a bit
on the low side because that boy they rescued off your ship be on
death's doorstep. Doc says there ain’t nothin’ he can do anymore
and that boy be too weak to fight off infection on his
own.”

Catherine
nodded soberly, but inside she was churning. She hadn't even
afforded the boy a second thought since their rescue. Everything
had been about her, about wearing stolen clothes, eating bad food,
and eating dinner in the company of sailors. She hadn't once
stopped to wonder about the welfare of the boy, and here he was
dying while she complained of trivial things. “Can I see the
boy?”

Karl nodded.
“Not much can make things worse now. Come with me.”

Karl led
Catherine to the small room where she stood looking at the boy. He
was pale, sweaty and breathing heavily. A lump grew in her throat
as she tried to swallow down the tears that welled up. He was too
young to die. He had barely lived—had so many years ahead of him.
“Please bring me some clean water and a cloth,” she instructed as
she sat down on the small stool next to the boy. Karl nodded and
left to get what she had requested.

Catherine
reached out and gently brushed the boy’s hair away from his face.
Drawing back the blanket she gingerly removed the bandage. The
wound was inflamed and oozing and it smelled a bit of rotting
flesh. Karl returned with the water and Catherine gently cleaned
the boy’s face of sweat. “What is his name?”

“
Matthew.”

“
Can you get the doctor for me?”

Karl trotted
off and came back moments later with the doctor.

“
Can I help you?”

“
What have you been cleaning the wound with?”

“
Alcohol.”

“
Let’s try salt water.”

“
What?” The doctor looked thoroughly confused.

“
When my father was in Spain one summer someone had tried to
kill him. His wound became infected and the doctor there cleaned it
with salt water.”

The doctor
nodded thoughtfully. “Well it can’t cause any harm, I suppose. The
boy is already going to die if something drastic doesn’t happen.
I’ll go boil a pot.”

Catherine held
the boy’s hand until the doctor came back. As they waited for the
water to cool off a bit Catherine continued to clean off his face.
“If this doesn’t work how long do you think he’ll have?”

“
It’s hard to say. Maybe a day or two, maybe a
week.”

The doctor
handed Catherine a cup full of salt water and a rag and she took it
nervously. She had never treated anyone with a wound before. She
had only ever seen her father being taken care of and now she was
to do the job of a common nurse. Taking the rag she dipped it in
the water and gently dabbed it on the wound, cleaning away the
oozing liquid. Matthew began to moan but he was too weak to
fight.

“
The doctor never dressed my father’s wounds. He said fresh
air was the best thing for infection.”

“
Very well. I’ll watch him to make sure he doesn’t touch
anything then. We’ll try this treatment for a little while and see
if it shows any improvement.”

Catherine
nodded and exited the cabin. She needed to get out of the stuffy
room and into fresh air. Taking deep breaths she looked up at the
crow’s nest and wondered if the captain was up there. She couldn’t
see anything from her location so she went back into her cabin and
locked the door—once again successfully cutting herself off from a
world that she wanted nothing to do with. Sitting down on a chair
by the window that looked out the rear of the ship towards the open
ocean Catherine pulled out a book and read until dinner time.

* * *

Brant went
down to check on Matthew later that day and was surprised to see
that there was no dressing on his wound. “Why did you do this?” he
asked, pointing at the wound open to the air.

“
Lady Marshall and I are trying a new approach.”

“
Lady Marshall?”

“
Yes. She came by today and suggested a treatment that she had
seen used successfully in Spain.”

“
I see. And is it working?”

“
It’s too soon to say but we’ll give it a couple days to prove
itself.”

“
And then?”

“
And if it’s not working the boy will die. He’s been largely
unconscious or incoherent for over a week, Captain. He’s on his
last legs.”

Brant nodded.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Brant was
there every day checking in on Matthew and watching him improve.
The saltwater was making a difference, and although the doctor was
happy with his improvements, still gave no promises that the boy
would make it.

Brant avoided
visiting at the same time as Catherine but he noticed her every day
as she made the short walk to the doctor’s quarters below deck.
Brant knew he should thank her for what she had done to help
Matthew even after she had made it very clear she wanted nothing to
do with anyone on the ship but his pride held him back. She had
insulted him, his men, and his profession. She had shown him one
side of her and he had readily accepted it as all there was to
Catherine Marshall but now he was seeing something completely
different. Who was she and was she the spoiled rich girl he’d first
met, or this kind and caring woman nursing a boy back to
health?

* * *

Catherine
walked into the doctor’s quarters two weeks after the saltwater
treatments had begun and greeted Matthew, who was now awake,
sitting up, and more energetic than he had been since he had
arrived on the ship.

“
Good morning, Matthew. How’re you doing today?”

“
Great. Look, it’s starting to close up!” Matthew lifted his
shirt to show off the scabbing wound. It looked like a healthy,
healing wound and it couldn’t have made Catherine
happier.

“
That’s wonderful! Before you know it you’ll be running around
the deck causing all kinds of trouble.”

Matthew smiled
and lowered his shirt again. “The doctor says I still have to take
it easy even though I’m feeling great.”

“
Doctor knows best.”

Matthew
grumbled a little which brought a laugh out of Catherine. She spent
the entire morning with him talking and reading to him. James came
in the afternoon and they continued with their reading lessons that
they had begun before the infection had set in. Brant had stopped
visiting every day since it became apparent that Matthew would
survive and he went back to going about his normal duties. He
stopped hiding up in the crow’s nest and even ate dinner with
Catherine on occasion but he was still refusing to talk to her and
it was beginning to frustrate her.

When she left
Matthew later that day she went in search of Brant and found him
talking with Casper over a map.

“
May I speak with you?” she asked.

Brant looked
up, annoyance written all over his face. “Give me a moment. I’m
busy.”

“
Fine. I’ll wait.” Catherine walked over to the railing
directly behind Brant and Casper and paced back and forth until
Brant came over about twenty minutes later.

“
What would you like, your highness?” he asked, mocking
condescension dripping from his words.

“
First of all, I would appreciate at least some semblance of
respect. My name is Catherine Marshall. If you can’t say miss or
lady then at least just call me Catherine.”

“
Are you dropping decorum?”

“
I’m afraid it’s nearly useless out here, Captain.”

“
And what was it that you wanted, Catherine?” He spoke gentler
this time.

“
I want to break this silence of ours. We had an argument and
it has made life on this ship very difficult and awkward. Can we at
least try and get along for the remainder of the
voyage?”

“
Of course, but you have to be less demeaning to my men. On my
ship there is no social class, just human beings.”

“
I will do my best.”

“
And you don’t wish us dead anymore?”

Catherine
laughed. “Oh, I still think you’re a bunch of common criminals that
deserve to be hung, but I’ll try not to voice that sentiment.”

Brant smiled.
“I can live with that. I’m pretty sure even the king harbors those
feelings. And please, call me Brant.”

“
Does that mean you will be having dinner with me tonight,
Brant?”

“
It does.”

Catherine
smiled and walked away, leaving Brant to do his work. She hadn’t
expected that conversation to go so well. In fact, she had half
expected it to blow up in her face and turn into another argument.
Instead she had been pleasantly surprised by Brant’s civility. He
had struck her as more of a hot head when they had first met, but
then again he confused her more and more each day. One minute he
was a gentleman, the next a rogue, the next brooding and then
suddenly he was friendly. He had too many faces to put a finger on
his personality.

Dinner was an
interesting affair that night. Brant seated her next to him for the
first time in over three weeks and he spoke with her, joked, and
even teased her a little. Catherine tried to carry on conversations
with the other officers. She had already spoken with Karl on
numerous occasions but it was hard to forget her upbringing. She
kept telling herself that it was okay to talk to these men and that
no one would frown on her behaviour, but it was hard to let go of
rules that had been ingrained in her since childhood.

After dinner
Brant walked with Catherine back to her cabin. As he opened the
door for her she turned to him and stopped. “Will you be climbing
up to the crow’s nest now?”

Brant looked
at her questioningly and nodded. “Yes.”

“
Why do you go up there?”

“
To think. It’s the most isolated place I know and the view is
spectacular. Would you like to come?”

Catherine
shook her head. “Maybe some other time. Good night, Captain.”

“
Goodnight, Catherine.”

Brant walked
away leaving Catherine alone in the doorway of her cabin.

Brant found
himself enjoying Catherine’s company now that they had agreed to be
civil and attempt a friendship. Quite often he found himself
getting caught up in conversation with her throughout the day. She
had many questions about the ship and how things were run, which
Brant was more than happy to answer. He was beginning to regret
ever thinking she was uneducated or naïve; it seemed like she
wanted to learn everything she could about her surroundings and he
was quickly beginning to realize through their conversations that
she knew quite a bit about politics and the state of the current
world.