Élisabeth held the railing even tighter as the ship rose and plunged on a swell.
“I danced with Rémy in the churchyard once. Did I ever tell you?”
Marthe frowned. “Yes, you did.”
“We could not risk being seen together so we stayed late after Mass. We only spun around the grounds twice, but I will hold the memory in my heart forever.”
A tear hovered at the edge of her sister’s eye. No sooner had the fat drop started its journey down her cheek than a sailor sprang forward, pushing a dirty handkerchief towards Élisabeth.
“Take this.”
It was Michel, the youngest of the sailors, and the only one who did not seem to delight in trying to frighten them. Élisabeth shook her head and wiped her tears on her sleeve.
“Everyone finds it hard to leave home,” he said gently, pocketing the grey cloth. “You’re not the worst I’ve seen.”
“Who was the worst?” Marthe asked. She cocked her head to one side, hoping to distract Élisabeth from thoughts of Rémy Delaunay.
Michel broke into a wide grin. “Once a girl jumped into the sea as we were setting sail. She thought she could reach the quay somehow. The captain had me fish her out with a net and keep her below deck until she came to her senses. Damn near drowned, beg your pardon for my language. Now the captain likes to get underway while everyone’s asleep or eating. Girls are easily spooked, he says, so it’s safer for everyone this way.”
“Did she live?”
“Oh, aye, she did. I looked out for her after that. I grew quite sweet on her, truth be told. Called her my mermaid, and that made her laugh. Justabout the prettiest sound on this earth, my mermaid’s laugh.” The cabin boy squinted as he gazed out across the waves, as if searching for a tail fin in the deep black waters. “I tell you, if I hadn’t been bound to this ship by my term of service… I might have signed up for a piece of land near Québec myself so I could marry her.”
“Pfff.” Marthe could not stop herself from scoffing. Another fool looking to make a love match. She shook her head, then clutched at the railing as a gust of wind caused the ship to list to one side. When she steadied herself again, she asked, “Where is your mermaid now?”
“She married not three weeks after we came ashore.” His grin slipped into a melancholic smile. “It was to be expected. She was so lovely, I knew she’d be married straightaway. I’ll look for her when we dock at Québec, though. Who knows. I might be lucky and she’ll be a widow by now.”
As the boy continued to inspect the sea, Élisabeth followed his gaze. The pair looked so mournful that Marthe wondered if she should clack their heads together to knock them out of their misery.
“You girls will get offers right away too,” Michel said, suddenly sanguine again. “You won’t be in Québec more than a week before you’re spoken for, I reckon.”
“We’re not stopping in Québec,” Marthe said, correcting him. “We’ve signed on for Ville-Marie.”
“Why ever for?”
The surprise in his voice unsettled Marthe. She and the other Montréalistes had been asked this by others: Why Ville-Marie? Why not the relative safety of Québec, where the city’s walls offered protection from Iroquois warriors bent on breaking the truce and attacking the settlers in their sleep? Élisabeth glanced at him, then turned back to the sea. The sun had slipped behind dark clouds and the wind was growing stronger.
“My sister says it’s the holiest place in the New World—maybe on earth,” Marthe began, but she could not keep the disdain from her voice.
Élisabeth cut in. “Our whole lives the village priest told us stories about the missionaries’ work in Ville-Marie. Some Sundays he read us the Jesuits’ accounts of their travels. We heard how the missionaries devote themselves to the glory of God, saving souls in the wilderness all while surviving untold hardship—ice and snow, starvation and torture…” Élisabeth shivered as if someone had just walked over her grave. “Imagine surviving simply through holy deeds and divine will? I think… I think… miracles must happen in such a sacred place.”
“We have set sail in search of a holy miracle, you see,” Marthe said sarcastically.
The cabin boy looked at them doubtfully. “I imagine the first settlerswerevery pious. Though it has changed quite a bit in thirty years.”
“What do you know about Ville-Marie?” Élisabeth said.
“I’ve seen a lot of New France. And what I know of Ville-Marie is not so heavenly, I’m sorry to say. It’s a wild frontier town, filled with fur traders and plenty of wolves.”
“Wolves!” Élisabeth exclaimed. The ship rolled again and she struggled to stand upright. Marthe put out a hand to steady her.
“Not actual wolves. At least I don’t think so. It’s just what they call the men there.”
“The men are called… wolves?” Marthe asked.
“Oh yes. From the governor on down. There are rumours, so you must take care. I’m glad my mermaid went to Québec after what I’ve seen of Ville-Marie.”
Marthe opened her mouth to press him for more details, but Rose and Lou came dancing over to join them. The wind was whipping Lou’s hair so much it seemed as though snakes were writhing on her head.
