Page 22 of Valour

Charlotte propped her hands on her hips, her cheeks rosy. “He’s no lord of mine, and so we shall not turn back.”

Hester beamed at Charlotte. Proud. She was so proud.

And now to have some fun with him. She willed the seawater to evaporate, to condense in the sky and join with the fog. Huge cumulonimbus clouds formed above the Intrepid, building and building.

Raising clouds was different to bringing on the wind. The clouds needed a lighter touch, a coaxing, whereas the wind needed a strong hand, or it would become unwieldy and grow a mind of its own.

The clouds grew darker. Oh, she would make it rain so hard. Maybe even a spot of lightning. A gale? She’d make it so miserable he’d have to give up and turn around.

She beckoned to the winds, the clouds growing darker still. Lightning flashed.

Hester took up the flags again and signalled Y-O-U-T-U-R-N-B-A-C-K, then stuck out her tongue. “I hope they could see that from so far away.” She looked back through the spyglass to see Septimus hurl the flags to the deck, just as the heavens opened, rain pelting the ship. Septimus disappeared from the bow, running for the wheel. One of his sails ripped under the conjured wind. His bellowed orders floated across the sea. Hester cackled again, just as thunder boomed. The wind rustled her hair, playing with the strands.

“Gosh. That storm came in quickly,” Charlotte said, staring aghast at the Intrepid, thrown around by ever-growing waves. “And yet, it seems so calm over here. Isn’t weather strange?”

“So strange,” Hester said with a grin.

“Will it hit us next?”

“Oh, I don’t think so, somehow.”

“Do you think he’ll keep following? What will he do if he catches up with us?” Charlotte asked, her hands twisting together.

What would he do? Hester was curious. Would he make his threats about scuppering them again? Would he follow through with it? “I’m not sure, but we will deal with him if the time comes. We cannot let these men walk all over us, can we?”

“Certainly not,” Charlotte said.

1st October 1914, Argentinian coast

The captain sat cross-legged right at the back of the ship, polishing an already gleaming flintlock pistol, the crew sitting around her, faces uneasy in the growing darkness. Charlotte had seen Ernie’s hunting rifles mounted on the wall but had never seen a pistol. Something heavy settled in her stomach.

The Argentine coast passed along to their right, the city of Buenos Aires looming before them, and the Intrepid was behind. It had not been delayed much by the storm. Had, in fact, gained on them.

Hester spoke, “When we dock tomorrow, I want Charlotte, Betty, Peggy, Arnold and Valerie to go ashore and procure fresh meat, vegetables, rum and more tinned food. Understood?”

“Aye, Captain,” the crew replied.

“The rest of you—stay behind and guard the ship with me.” Hester looked down the barrel of the gun, one eye squinted. “I’d suggest you prepare your weapons. As a precautionary measure, of course.” Hester turned to Charlotte, her lips tight. “If it comes to a fight, the fastest way to take someone down is a blow to the temple, jaw or behind the ear.”

Charlotte swallowed hard. Thunder rolled overhead, and she jumped. Marjorie pressed closer, quivering, tail between her legs.

“When do you think the Intrepid will arrive?” Charlotte asked, twisting her hands in her lap.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t arrive directly after us.”

“What will happen?”

“It’s hard to say, but I will invoke the Right of Parley. And if I can’t talk my way out of it, I’m a damn fine shot,” she said, grinning, though Charlotte thought the sentiment didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Don’t worry about a thing, Boss. It’s all under control.”

But Charlotte tossed and turned in bed that night. Hester wasn’t someone she was prepared to give up so soon. She had never met anyone like her, and she understood now why her crew was so loyal. Charlotte would have followed Hester to the ends of the Earth after only knowing her for four months.

Unable to sleep, she rose from bed and padded down the corridors to the galley, a very rotund Marjorie beside her. She found Arnold boiling the kettle.

“Tea?” he asked.

“Yes, please.” Charlotte slid into a chair and ran her hands through her hair. Perhaps a hot drink would settle her.

“Can’t sleep?”