“When can he return to duty?”Caleb asked.
“In a day or two, if you cease pestering him.”Brandt took the stool and passed the vial to Alden.
Alden eyed it warily.“What devil’s brew is this?”
“Drink it,” Brandt said curtly.“It will do you good.”
The quartermaster swallowed and grimaced.“Tastes like bilge.”
“Who says it isn’t?”Brandt muttered, a ghost of humor beneath the exhaustion.
As he rose, leaning heavily upon his cane, Caleb saw more than fatigue.The man was breaking, shoulders bowed, hands trembling, the lines of guilt etched deeper than ever.
“How fare the others?”he asked.
“No change.”Brandt rubbed his brow.“I’ve searched every blasted book, tried every remedy.Naught avails.”
Caleb’s hand landed firmly upon his shoulder.“You’ll rest, Doctor.Choose two men to tend the sick and take to your bed.That’s an order.”
Brandt’s mouth opened to protest.
“That’s an order,” Caleb repeated, low but iron.
The surgeon sighed and nodded, limping from the cabin.
“Could be spiritual,” Alden announced once he’d gone.
Caleb glanced over.“You mean the illness?”
“Aye.A curse, perhaps.Demonic.”
“Rot,” Brandt barked from the passageway.“Superstition!”
“’Tisn’t superstition when you’ve seen what I’ve seen,” Alden said softly once the doctor had vanished.
Caleb stared at him for a long moment.“You truly believe that?”
Alden managed a faint nod.“The doctor hides behind his science, same as you hide behind your command.He works himself to death tryin’ to earn forgiveness, just as you do.”
Caleb’s jaw tightened.“Brandt never murdered the innocent.”
“Neither did you.”
The words struck deeper than any blade.Caleb turned to the window, the sea stretching vast and gleaming.The breeze carried through the cabin, filling it with the scent of salt and tar and far horizons.The ocean—wild, unending—was the one thing that still made sense.The one thing that bound him to her.
“You miss her,” Alden said quietly.
Caleb swallowed.“More than you know.”
“Then let her go.If the Almighty wills it, she’ll return.If not, her work here is done.”
But Caleb could not—wouldnot—believe that.
“She found me once,” he said, his voice low with conviction.“She’ll find me again.”
Turning, he left the cabin before Alden could answer, his boots ringing against the planks, the folded parchment close to his heart.
Chapter 28: Portals and Pride
