As I approach the door, the sound of muffled voices and a light groan seep through the wood. I still, trying to listen more closely, the sound comes through the door again and panic for Lyra seizes me.
Is she ill? Surely, no one would dare harm her after today’s show of punishment from the Captain.
Without pausing to even consider what I will do if someone is hurting her — I don’t even know where my dagger is from earlier — I push the door open quietly and step inside.
Our candle resting on the small table has burned low, wax pooling at the base. Lyra’s dress lies discarded on the floor, a pair of men's breeches and a dirty shirt alongside it. Two bodies writhe under the sheets on Lyra’s bed and I blink rapidly in the dim lighting, trying to focus. Lyra’s tight curls peek from under her partner, but I can’t make out who has joined her. The sound of muffled giggles and moans of pleasure mingle with the creak of the ship. I have clearly walked in on a consensual romantic embrace, but it’s too late for me to retreat. As soon as the door scrapes in closure the bodies freeze on the bed.
“Lyra – what is this?” I ask in a hushed tone. I’m in no place to scold the girl for seeking pleasure with someone, but I am fearful of what the Captain will do if he discovers the jewel he has purchased has been tarnished by another.
“Oh! Oh, Andromeda, um… well…” Lyra stumbles for words as she pulls the shoulders of her shift up to cover her breasts. Her partner has still not turned to face me so I move closer, holding the candle I’ve now pulled loose from the table close to view his face.
Shocked at the sight of familiar messy, mousy brown hair, I gasp, “Charlie!” The boy turns toward me, eyes downcast, holding his hands across his – breasts?
“You’re –?” I start. “You’re a girl!” I exclaim in confusion, looking between the two young women.
The gleam in both their eyes almost makes me laugh. They look both chastened as well as thrilled that they have fooled me for this long, like a joke shared between children hiding things from an oblivious parent.
“Aye, Missus. I am. It’s not so easy to find work on the ships as a girl though, so I have to keep up appearances, you see.” Charlie gives me a wry smile, ever the little sparrow.
“And the Captain? Does he know?” I ask, still looking between them.
“Oh yes, Andromeda. Of course! Captain Lennox assigned Charlie to be our cabin…um, attendant… specifically because of her sex. To make sure no one would harass us,” Lyra explains.
“I see. How… thoughtful… of him.” I truly don’t know what to make of this revelation. I stoop to retrieve Charlie’s shirt and toss it to her while I return the candle to the table. “I’m sorry to have… interrupted… ”
“Don’t be silly! This is your room, too, Andromeda. We just thought, since you were with the Captain and all, that you might not come back tonight, you see. Oh, Andromeda, are you all right? Truly?” Lyra asks, looking over me.
Lennox’s oversized coat still hangs from my shoulders as I sit down on my bunk. Lyra climbs out of bed to sit by my side, sweetly holding my hand.
“Yes, Lyra. I am.” I grasp her hand tighter and smile at her and Charlie in turn. “He didn’t… he wasn’t able to succeed in his attempts. Thanks to you and Charlie. Thank you both for helping me.”
“I’m so sorry it happened, Missus. But I’m glad you took care of the bastard,” Charlie replies, her normally upbeat tone cold. A bruise darkens her cheek from the attack to match my split lip.
“So am I, Charlie. Now if you both don’t mind, I’d like to go to sleep.”
Shrugging out of the Captain’s coat, I lay it across one of the chairs and adjust my coverlet while Lyra says goodbye to her lover. She floats back to her bed and snuggles in without another word. Once she settles, I blow out the dwindling candle, my mind racing over all of the new revelations.
Chapter 12
The next day is spent cocooned in my cabin, curled under the coverlet and Lennox’s heavy coat with my journals and thoughts, but as the night comes and goes, I refuse to allow myself any more time to retreat inward. I will not be broken by the actions of the foul men whose bodies now drift in the sea.
The following morning I’m informed by the boatswain, Pike — an older, dark-skinned sailor with rings climbing his ears and one in his nostril — that we are pulling into port today before setting sail across the ocean. He hands me a note with familiar green wax sealing it, explaining that the Captain has a few requests for me to pick up from the apothecary in addition to my own needs. He also hands me my dagger with a smile. It has been sharpened and shined to a brilliant gleam, and its weight in my hand once more is a relief.
Once I have securely pocketed the weapon, Pike reminds me to be sure to visit the apothecary on the street where the brothels are located. As if I could forget the danger of selecting one of the shops in the more respectable part of town, even in an unfamiliar city. The King has all but outlawed women from utilizing healing herbs and knowledge, so the only places we can purchase these items, without being questioned by Blackwell’s men patrolling the streets, are the less lawful areas.
Instructions delivered, Pike hands me a pouch full of coins to use for my purchases before he resumes his work, inspecting the ship for any last-minute repairs before we return to sea. The purse feels much heavier than I will need for the errand, but I tuck it in my other pocket for safekeeping.
The wax seal pops as I slide my finger beneath it, and a stained page falls from the center to land at my feet. Before reading the list written in the Captain’s script, I pick up the page from the floor. The list I had stashed in my dress pocket before Crewes accosted me is smeared and crumpled from the struggle, but gratitude swells in my chest that the Captain thought to retrieve it for me — I won’t have to waste time taking inventory again. His list is short, but includes an odd request: black walnut hulls. Climbing the stairs to the main deck as we prepare to dock, my mind races through the uses for these items until I recognize where we are.
Sweat prickles across my skin as my heart skips erratically in my chest, and my breaths become shallow when I view a newly erected cathedral on a hill. Mountains topped in light snow and pines rise in the North behind the construction. The land around it is scorched; all the trees that once stood here have been either cut down for the cathedral’s construction or burned to ash. My mouth is bitter as I hold back tears at the sight of the scarred city of Athene. My home.
The remains of the temple I called home for years have been razed to make way for the King’s new religion. The sacred grove where I participated in the rites and numerous other ceremonies over the years is char.
Breathe. No one knows you here anymore, I tell myself over and over as we inch closer to the town.
Sooner than I wish, the gangplank is lowered and men begin to gather chests and barrels to carry down, ready to sell or trade for new cargo.
“Do you need assistance finding your way, Mistress?” Erik asks me as he towers above me, watching over the men working. He must have confused my hesitation to disembark as fear of getting lost in the streets. He doesn’t realize I am afraid of being lost in my memories instead.