Bastian's brow furrowed. The ocean was less guarded than he'd thought it would be. Normally, there would be sentinels, both large and small, stationed along the coasts of his islands.
He sighed and turned to Hugh who was attempting to make out the horizon through his spyglass. The rain was making it difficult.
The crew was working around them. They'd only been at sea for two hours now. Commandeering the Venerable had proven more dangerous than they'd thought, and blood had been spilt.
He sighed and looked back over his shoulder. He couldn't see Bell Island, but he knew very well it was in that direction. He now wished that he had something to remember her by.
"Captain, the channel should be fifteen leagues northeast of here."
Bastian nodded. The crew, though they were loyal to him, had not yet been told of his identity. They knew him only as "captain". If this mission did not go well and they were captured, it would be best if they truly did not know who he was. He and Hugh had determined to reveal it to them when they were much further out to sea.
A young crew member took a few steps up the stairs towards the helm. "Mr. Kevah. The men are organized and ready."
Hugh nodded to the man and then looked to Bastian. Bastian nodded tiredly, the rain had long drenched his hair, but he would not go below decks, not until they'd made it out of Cadarama safely.
He closed his eyes for a moment as a burst of guilt submerged him. Releasing a slow breath, he swallowed and turned to face his crew.
Hugh, who was his first mate aboard the Venerable, his most trusted man and he'd also sailed with him many times as his personal servant. The helmsman, he was familiar with, Rodas. He'd been at the helm for the majority of his voyages. And the rest of the crew were strangers to him.
Hugh stood on the opposite set of stairs that led up to the helm, the crew stood on the deck below.
"We've begun this excursion in hopes that we can free our country from the traitorous Lords, and return it to the proper royal line. It will be dangerous, I will not lie," He trailed his eyes over each of the men, content with the determination he found in their eyes, "The Great Sea is known for its beasts and storms this time of year, but we will survive it, and save our country."
The men cheered and Bastian sighed tiredly. He'd captained his ship few times, most times a well-known, trustworthy captain of the Cadaraman navy would captain the Venerable.
"Captain, should you be standing in the rain?"
He turned and saw Hugh standing with his hands behind his back, his eyes staring at the sea ahead of them. Bastian was leaning against the port rail, his outer coat was drenched, his hair sopping wet. He wiped the locks away, he wasn't used to his hair being this long.
"I will stay above deck until we make it through the channel." He answered, staring at the man. Hugh had left his wife behind, did he regret it?
"I see, captain."
He turned away and Bastian called him back, "Hugh."
"Yes, captain."
He huffed; annoyed at his new title but asked the question tearing at his heart, "Do you… regret leaving your wife behind?"
Hugh's eyes widened briefly before he composed himself, "I… No, captain. I don't think she would enjoy being aboard a ship for so long. She's, uh.. she's been happy on Bell Island."
Bastian nodded and returned to staring at the stormy sea.
Hugh nervously opened his mouth a few times before he said, "I believe it was the right decision, captain. She'll be well looked after."
They both knew that he wasn't speaking of his wife, but of Bastian's.
Bastian didn't make any indication he'd heard him and only lowered his eyes in thought. He knew she would be hurt by his leaving without a farewell.
Night fell and he stayed by the helm, his boots knocking on the planks as he paced slowly. The rain had slowed, graciously, and every now and again the clouds parted and they could navigate more easily.
He knew attempting to sleep was pointless, which made guilt settle in his mind, how was she sleeping? Was she cold like always? He could picture her in their bed, her wrists curled and her nose ice cold. He stopped in his pacing temporarily before starting up again.
Dawn began creeping in and he bowed his head in exhaustion. But he could make out the silhouette of Bobian, which meant they were near the channel, and would no doubt breach it within the hour.
Hugh arose soon enough, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. The ship began to wake and was filled with a humming tension that caused Bastian's foot to tap incessantly.
Lord, he was a nervous wreck!
Just as the tip of Bobian became clear, the waves and winds turned against them and caused their speed to diminish greatly.
He clenched his fists angrily, but knew that he couldn't fight the sea.
"Captain! A ship off the starboard stern!"
Bastian spun on his heel and ran to the starboard—or right—side of the ship. Sure enough, he could see a small dinghy struggling in the rain and waves. His brow furrowed, if the Lords sent a ship after him, it would not be one of such size.
He heard Hugh gasp next to him with the spyglass to his eye.
"What is it?" He asked, apprehension and impatience swirling in his eyes, but his voice was even.
"It's…" He glanced away from the spyglass and looked at Bastian in shock before covering it. Clearing his throat he darted his eyes to the crew before speaking, "It's… your wife."
Bastian blinked a few times before he fully registered his words. Hydrangea? He didn't have more then one wife, so… what the hell was she doing there?
"Weigh anchor!" He called and Hugh repeated it for him. The crew began scrambling to pull the sails up and lower the anchor.
He stormed to the starboard rail and watched as the dinghy slowly made its way towards them. He could see two figures aboard the ship, both looked female, and one looked to be his wife.
As soon as she stepped on board he grabbed her, gently, but with pressure, by her shoulders. "What are you doing here?"
It had been hard enough to leave her behind, now she shows up and he had to send her back?
She smiled and laughed breathlessly, "You forgot to say goodbye."
His brow creased when he realized her condition; her dress was soaked along with her hair and her eyes looked dazed and giddy. And the most jarring were the bruises on her neck and face.
He took a step closer and sniffed her breath; no trace of alcohol.
"She was drugged." A female voice stated from behind him. "Just made it past the shipyards when something nicked her arm."
He narrowed his eyes at the woman and pulled Hydrangea closer. The woman's head was concealed by a scarf and she wore the clothing of a cabin boy.
He felt Hydrangea snuggle against him. He smiled softly and picked her up.
"Where are you going?" Hugh asked nervously when he saw he was headed for his cabin, a lazy Hydrangea in his arms.
"My wife is in need of some assistance. You're in charge." He said matter-of-factly then shut the door.