Page 111 of Valour

Hester’s eyes burned, and she looked to Septimus. His sapphire gaze held a determination she knew she could never break. Wouldn’t want to break. She closed her eyes, fists clenched, teeth gritted.

And she resolved herself. She would let Septimus come. They would fight together, should Orcus find them. And they would give him Hell. Septimus tugged at the tether between them, and her eyes snapped open. She fixed him with her most devilish grin.

“Come along then, my lord. It wouldn’t do to keep these fine folk waiting for our rescue.”

27th April 1916, Elephant Island

Charlotte’s thoughts never strayed far from wondering how Hester, Septimus and the small crew fared. The gales blowing across the island were ferocious, the sea swollen and angry.

Charlotte sat beside the blubber stove, skinning a penguin, huddled in her coat against the raging winds. Rufus, Valerie and Arnold sat around her, and Mei was crouched by the stove, cooking the one hot meal they were allowed each day.

“I think I’d like to just lie down and die,” Rufus said, curling up on the ground.

Charlotte raised her eyebrows. He didn’t even seem to be joking. “Come along now, Rufus. Hester will be back in a month, and we can go home. Trust in the captain.”

Rufus only sighed.

Charlotte glanced at Arnold, who shrugged. It was harder than she had imagined to keep everyone’s spirits up on this Godforsaken island. And if it was this bad already, how much lower could everyone get?

There was a clatter of the frying pan. Mei collapsed to the ground.

Charlotte leapt to her feet. “Oh my word. Arnold, quick. Help me.” She raced to Mei’s side, propping her up. Mei groaned, her eyes flickering. The cook was usually so stoic. “You’re going to rest. You’ve done such a wonderful job taking care of us all.”

Arnold helped lift Mei, and between them, they half dragged, half carried her to her tent. As they entered the tent flaps, Charlotte called over her shoulder, “Rufus, make the dinner. You’re on cook duty until Mei is better.” Perhaps having a job to do would raise his spirits.

“Yes, Boss,” Rufus said, leaping into action to save the frying pan from the ground.

Charlotte settled Mei down in her sleeping bag. She knew the crew were weak. Knew death from exposure was a real concern, but this brought the risks into stark relief.

“I could carry on, you know, Boss,” Mei said, her face clammy and pale.

Typical Mei. “No. Not until I say you can. You stay here. And I won’t hear another word from you, do you hear?” It sounded like her voice, but the words seemed stronger. No one would die on her watch.

“Yes, Boss.” Mei closed her eyes, and Charlotte backed out of the tent to find Valerie standing outside, her medical bag in hand.

“I’ll check her over,” Valerie said, ducking inside.

28th April 1916, Southern Ocean

One wave, then another. Over and over.

Hester hung onto the tiller as the Tempest rose up the crest of a monstrous wave, the fury of the wind shredding at the sail they had already reefed twice. They hurtled down the other side, crashing into the trough, water spraying over the bow and freezing immediately on the decks. The sails flapped in the relative calm of the valley, and Hester’s belly unclenched. She groaned as the cycle started again.

Under the foredeck that had been hastily built in the days before they left Elephant Island, Peggy, Frank and Winston sat, attempting to light the stove for their evening meal of hot hoosh and biscuits, the one bright beacon of cheer in the punishing days that ran into one another.

Septimus’s hulking form sat amidships, trimming the sails. He looked back at her, his mouth a grim line, beard and moustache frozen with white crystals of ice, but his eyes blazed with pride.

She shifted her blistered hands on the tiller, finger joints aching, crooked in place.

“How do you fare, my lord?” she asked, the gale stealing the words from her cracked lips.

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ve been better, but at least the view is good.”

She huffed a laugh, wishing he would come and sit by her, wishing they could be dry, and warm and well-fed—she stopped her thoughts in their tracks. It was no use thinking such things.

The wind built, raging around them, and suddenly, there was a voice by her side.

“I’m glad you did not leave your mate behind.”