The savory scent of fish tickled Cadan’s nose.“How long?”
“Two days,” Pell replied.“I’ll summon Gabrielle.”
Gabrielle?He used her familiar name?
Omphile sat on the chair beside the bed.
Cadan blinked away the fog in his mind.“Nay, not the woman.Summon Moses.”
“In truth, Captain.”Pell scratched the stubble on his jaw.“She knows much about doctoring, especially wounds.She’s been the one caring for you.”
He wanted to curse, to scream.Instead, he settled himself.“You allowed my enemy to care for me?”
“Quit fussing, Captain.Moses kept a keen eye on her.”Pell snorted.“You’re alive, aren’t you?And feeling better?”
He could not deny it.“Moses,” he repeated his command, and with a look of reprimand and a nod, Pell left.
Accepting the bowl from Omphile, Cadan raised it to his lips.“How fares the lady?”
Omphile raised a brow.“Hush now.Thought you didn’t care ’bout her.An’ she fares better dan you, I’d say.”She rose.“Don’t drink so fast.You haven’t eaten in days.”She started to leave but then spun to face him.“Gabrielle’s been a big hep since you were shot, Captain.She’s not your enemy.”
He’d castigate the woman for her insolence…ifhe had enough energy.As it was, he allowed her to leave.
By the time Moses and Pell returned, some of Cadan’s strength had returned.
“Yer wound is healin’ nice, Cap’n,” Moses announced after redressing the bandage.“Lucky ye were.The shot jist grazed yer skull.”He tugged upon the red scarf always tied about his neck—the one he used to cover the mark of his slavery.
“If only it had knocked some sense into you,” Pell added with a grin.
Cadan ignored him.He had too many questions at the moment to deal with Pell’s impertinence.
Gripping the back of the chair beside his bed, he pulled himself up, waited a moment to get his balance, then shuffled to his desk.
Or was it his desk?Documents that had once been scattered now sat in a tidy stack.Quill pens and ink bottles lay arranged neatly to the side.His map had been rolled up like a scroll and tied with a red ribbon while other objects, navigation instruments and trinkets, had been organized according to size, weight, and purpose.Glancing over the rest of the cabin, he saw his clothes had been picked up from the deck, and nary a bottle of rum or glass was in sight.
“Scads!Who touched my things?And where is my rum?”
Moses moved to a sideboard cupboard and opened it.
Pell appeared to be having trouble suppressing a grin.“Gabrielle must have cleaned up a bit while you were sleeping.”
“Cleaned?She’s made a muck of things.How am I supposed to find anything now?”He shifted a stern gaze at Pell.“And why is everyone calling her by her common name!?Am I to discover next that she has taken over the ship?”
Pell chuckled.
Moses set a bottle of rum and a glass on the desk.“I best get back t’ work, Cap’n.”
“Aye.”Cadan popped the cork and poured himself a drink as Moses marched out, no doubt wanting to avoid Cadan’s temper.
“That’s the name she gave us, Captain.”Pell shrugged.“She’s harmless.Been helpful, even in her condition.”He fingered the wooden cross around his neck.
Cadan slapped the rum to the back of his throat and closed his eyes as the liquor warmed its way down to his belly.
He had more important things to deal with at the moment.“Pray, who is sailing the ship?And do not tell me it isGabrielle.”
“Durwin, Smity, and myself.”Pell chuckled as he took a seat.
A wave of dizziness struck Cadan, and he leaned back to sit on his desk.“Where are we heading?And what happened to Allard?”
