The Dreamer (30 page)

But all I said was, “Yes. He said you saved them. Thank you.”

“They were scattered all over the floor in your cabin on the
Nine Sisters
,” he said. “I hope I was able to find them all.”

“I think you did, yes. I went through them last night. I’d forgotten just how far I’d come, how much I’d written. And I’ve seen the treasure. Have you? Well, of course you have. It really has happened, hasn’t it, Captain … I mean Mallory. We did it. Do you remember when we first discussed the possibility? You’d said it was madness. But I said you’d be convinced despite yourself. And you were. You thought it was impossible, but it happened after all. Isn’t it amazing?”

“It really is,” he answered. “And I — .”

Someone called to him from a distance. “I need to go,” he said.

“Alright.”

He hesitated. “I’m glad you’re safe again, Rachel.”

“Thank you. You too, Mallory. More than I can say.”

He smiled slightly, clenched his fist, and then was gone.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Notes: Researcher recovering adequately from recent distressing events. Still struggling with distracting lethargy. Not an uncommon symptom of post-traumatic stress syndrome.

Much to do concerning Maharahi treasure: cataloging, recording, and reimbursing debts to authorities. Calculating worth nearly impossible.

Collection of leather pads coiled up and preserved among artifacts. Monetary value negligible. Retained for subsequent study.

Questions still unanswered. Why was it there? Who buried it? Another time-traveler? But how? Why the map and the key?

The work ahead seems tremendous and overwhelming.

Though interesting and invigorating, of course.

Our journey to the nearest shore was brief and completed within days. We satisfied all the debts Mallory and the crew had accrued in securing a ship and provisions, weapons and ammunition. News of the treasure had spread, and so when we arrived, an assembly of people had gathered excitedly. We shook hands and smiled and spoke to the crowd. Every walk of life attended, the story of our adventure appealing to all and everyone. Who could resist? Pirates, treasure, murder, betrayal. The mysterious woman. Added to that, the news of our victory and how Mallory had accomplished it brought on great jubilation and awe. The famous Duke of Norcross, the capturer of pirates and master of the sword, was a villain. And Mallory Tucker, of humble birth and common stock, had out witted and defeated him. And Fredrick did his part in describing the victory with such flair and glamour that it could easily be understood why the story caught hold with such force.

“We must have you at our next party,” declared an overweight woman with an array of plumage on her head. She looked like a fattened turkey. “All would love to hear of your adventures.”

“Oh, yes. Here is my card,” said another, a man who was tall and muscular as a horse. His nose was wrinkled, as though he smelled something funny. “A small assembly of scholars would love to hear ….”

“Miss Madera. Captain Mallory Tucker. An honor to finally meet you.” This from a slight, mild mannered man with a sallow complexion and a regal air, beside him a young woman too small for her dress, her eyes older than her age.

Invitations were extended all night long, but we accepted none of them. We spoke and explained and laughed with the people, but we were too busy to do anything but arrange for our passage home. With so much wealth in tow, strict precautions had to be followed.

Rumors spread quickly, and before we knew it, the entire port was abuzz with the news, and it was rapidly spreading. Word was sent to England to expect us.

An armed escort accompanied us back, complete with guards and generals. True to his word, Mallory gave full credit of the discovery of the treasure to me, and I was allowed to catalogue and evaluate the artifacts almost exclusively and at my leisure. Scholars and political leaders marveled at my knowledge and training, asking before we left port for England if I would consider returning to teach and lecture, and perhaps write a book about these astounding experiences. I was vague in my answers, and absolutely silent regarding my own history. I wanted my research and work complete and free of errors before I came forward with the truth, knowing controversy would surely follow. I only replied there were numerous possibilities for the future. We returned to the ship, which was now fully provisioned, and we headed to England. The guard on board knew me by sight, and I had full rights and access to the gold and treasure. I spent most of my days down there.

My dreams were coming true right before my eyes. Sometimes I had a difficult time believing it.

There were mountains of work to be done, and it was a little daunting. I spent my time in the treasury room almost exclusively, only emerging to the surface for food and slumber. Though, truthfully, not all of my day was spent in actual work. Once in a while I found myself, paper in hand, pencil poised above it, simply lost in thought, far away from the Maharahi family and ancient artifacts. These things seemed like child’s trinkets at times, only a representation of meaning, that the true meaning, the real purpose, was still waiting for me.

I couldn’t understand it. I had changed history. I had all the proof and influence I needed to convince those in power. What more was there? I had it all.

The captain and I saw little of each other. We were both wary and guarded, conversation stilted and difficult. That strange shyness that had appeared at his kiss now consumed me whenever I saw him. I felt I was transparent, that my confusion was written all over my features, and I tried my best to hide my unsure feelings. I became awkward, didn’t know what to say or where to look when he drew close to me, large and muscular and overwhelmingly masculine. The smallest details fascinated me, the shape of his eyes, the scar at his throat, even the wiry hair on his arms. Never before had I been so aware of him. His every look, every movement, seemed poignant and virile, and it embarrassed me.

We saw each other at meal times, our places still side by side. He would politely enquire about the treasure and any new discoveries, smiling slightly as I spoke, once saying, “You’ve finally achieved your life’s ambition. You are to be envied.”

Sometimes he would ask how long I thought I’d be working that day, and then tell me of his own plans, painstakingly explaining what he’d be doing himself and where I could find him if I ever needed him. “Though the likelihood of that,” he once added quietly, “is quite remote now.”

I did not try to communicate my confusion to anyone. From my own mouth I had declared the relevance and importance of the Maharahi treasure. Since I’d first heard of it, I had deemed it the answer to everything, to why I was here and what I was meant to accomplish. Now that the professed desire had finally bloomed to healthy fruition after so much heartache and struggle, how could I express anything but utter pleasure? I would look an ambivalent fool. It was all I had. And it was all I needed, I told myself firmly.

I thought often of John’s sacrifice, the reality that he had died so that I could live. I determined I had to live, really live well, with deliberation and purpose despite any difficulty, in honor of him. It was a weighty obligation, and I couldn’t dismiss it. My life was set on a course now, not altogether different than the one I’d been on. After all I hadn’t been so bad before. But perhaps just blind. Now I determined I would open my eyes and take my steps with deliberation with goodness in mind, eternity in mind. If there really was something after this life, I must live now so that I might have some hope of reward then, and keep my promise to the old man and see him again if I could.

*** *** ***

The weeks passed, and soon we were entering London. I remembered how it had looked the first time I saw it. The dirt, the poverty, the corruption. Evidently, we were expected, and long before we reached port an assembly had gathered to celebrate our homecoming and welcome us. We could hear people cheering all the way to the ship. City officials awaited in order to congratulate us for our discovery and send word to the king of our arrival and the details of the gold. The
Thrasher
was brought close to shore. It was unable to approach the dock with the enormous burden of the gold and treasure weighing it down, so we had to board the longboats and row to port. Most of the men stayed aboard the ship, uneasy, I’m sure, in any legitimate English port – and with good reason.

Fredrick sat beside me sulkily, threatening all sorts of outrageous retribution if the Lord Mayor dared to attempt to exalt him with a position of authority. “You think I’m not above bodily lifting the man and depositing him in the drink? Well, just see.”

“Fredrick, I’m sure it’s enough for them to simply pardon you,” I tried to assure him. “They’d deem it a great honor. It’s most unlikely they’ll consider rewarding you further. You won’t really pick up the Lord Mayor and throw him in the ocean, will you? Even if he’s impertinent enough to offer you a reward? I think you’re joking, but sometimes you do the most outrageous things. And a great deal of my future security rests in the events of the next few hours.”

“Bah!” he said dismissively. “Mallory is quite capable of looking after you. You need nothing from these knaves.”

I bit my lip and my eyes found Mallory, who was watching me, his gaze as grave as ever.

“You’re sure we’ve been pardoned, Captain?” Duncan asked Fredrick, his index finger pulling at his collar in the timeless gesture of nervousness. “We’re sure about this?”

“Eye, lad. As long as we have the gold, we are as safe as priests. I’m sorry. I would have prevented it if it were possible. I don’t like this ending for you. Forgive me.”

Our boat bumped up against the dock, and I was helped ashore courteously. Mallory himself alighted and took my hand, his fingers warm and firm. His touch sent a thrill of pleasure through me that I found difficult to squelch. I looked up at him instinctively and found his eyes on me. Hastily I looked away, and he silently drew my arm through his, and we walked to those waiting for us.

A cheer erupted from the crowd and we were drawn onto a make-shift stage. Fireworks exploded when we reached the top of the platform, and I cried out delightedly. A man in dirty, frayed clothing winked at me from the crowd.

“Is all this for us?” I asked in awe.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” said Fredrick, looking green.

I looked up and found Mallory with a worried frown.

“What’s the matter?” I asked him.

“Those fireworks are awfully close to the ship,” he said.

“So? It won’t hurt any of the men on board.”

“It’s not the men, it’s the gunpowder I’m worried about.”

“Oh, Captain,” I said with a dismissive gesture. “A falling ember would have to descend hundreds of feet without extinguishing, land precisely on the ship, in precisely the right position to fall through the door and then down on through the hatch below … 
and
strike just the right spot, assuming of course, that just enough gunpowder had spilled in just the right proximity to the remaining kegs. The chances are not only slim, they’re astronomi —”

I was interrupted by the explosion.

*** *** ***

Consumed with smoke and flame, the
Thrasher
groaned and tilted and began to sink. I watched the priceless treasure begin to vanish, my brows raised only slightly, as though in mild surprise.

Men cried out and jumped overboard as she went down, various parts of their clothing aflame. Though I was told later that, miraculously, everyone had made it out safely.

After a stunned moment, those around me leapt into action. Mallory demanded the long boats be released from the docked ships and sent to retrieve the survivors. Women screamed, someone was crying in the distance. The welcoming officials stood with mouths hanging open, as if rooted to the spot.

Young Duncan turned to Frederick. “Captain?” he asked faintly.

Fredrick watched the sinking vessel, which contained the treasure: everything upon which his pardon depended. And then he turned to Duncan, not looking particularly concerned. “It’s time we go, lad. It looks to be we’ve worn out our welcome.”