Rogue Wave (The Rogue Wave Series Book 1), page 16
Catherine tried working with as much efficiency as Doc had. She glanced up at Benjamin briefly. “It’s nothing new, I’ve seen you stitch the men up a couple times.”
“I suppose.” Focusing her attention on the sailor laying limp in front of her was different. Doc had been standing right next to her and guiding her the entire time. Those wounds were minor and not life threatening. Jim could have easily died from this injury if it had cut a bit deeper. Even with his cut being cleansed and stitched, infection was still a very real danger.
She finished up and tied off the last stitch. Benjamin let go of Jim’s shoulders and went to assess the next sailor that was sitting on a table nearby. This sailor was holding his side, blood seeping between his fingers. Catherine quickly wrapped the bandages over Jim’s head and shoulder. She picked up the needle, putting it aside to be cleaned and used again later.
“Catherine, a musket ball grazed his side fairly deep.” Benjamin explained.
Catherine removed the man’s hand from his wound, causing more blood to flow out.
“Right, let’s get that shirt off of you and clean up the wound.” Not bothering to wait for the man’s response, she grabbed a small pair of suture scissors and cut the shirt away from his body. Catherine did not want him lifting his arm too high for fear it would tear the wound even more, not to mention the pain it would cause him.
“There,” she said soothingly, “it is almost cleaned.” Pouring a bit of vinegar water over the wound, she grabbed for the needle. As she bent over, the sailor rested his forearm on her shoulder so she could see the wound. Benjamin made a move to hold onto the man but the sailor simply shook his head, dismissing Benjamin. The man flinched slightly when the needle punctured his sensitive and raw flesh, but relaxed once she continued. “I am sorry if it is causing you more pain.” She said sympathetically.
“Nah Miss, I have had worse injuries and you are far gentler than that old Doc over there.” He commented loud enough for Doc to hear. Doc merely scoffed and continued working on a more serious musket injury.
Catherine smiled as she wrapped up the sailor’s side. “You are all set.”
“Thank you, Miss.” He said, stepping onto the floor and grabbing his weapons.
“Where are you going?” She demanded.
“Back up top, they need as many men as they can get.” He said, nodding to the next group of injured sailors that piled in.
Catherine was speechless. “He will open his wound again, surely he cannot go back up.”
“He will be alright, this is what happens every battle, some that cannot fight but are not gravely injured will help us down here as well.” Benjamin assured her.
Men were bleeding and groaning about the now crowded room, some were already unconscious. She tried picking out the men that needed more urgent care.
The afternoon and night blurred together. She quickly lost count of how many men she sewed and bandaged up. A few lucky ones had simply been knocked unconscious and had been brought down to keep them safe until they woke. Men came and went, Catherine tried to keep her mind off Lucas and desperately tried to do her best for the sailors that needed her help. With every sailor she fixed up; her confidence rose.
An extremely pale man was laying on one of the tables, blood trickling out from what looked like a musket shot in his stomach. She checked his breathing and pulse, like Doc had taught her. She gasped; he felt cold and there was no pulse. She looked up; Doc was now standing next to her.
“I am sorry, Miss Catherine.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “You go see to our other patients.”
Feeling herself sway, she glanced around the room once more. Most of the men had been fixed up and were either laying down resting, unconscious or they had been bandaged and had simply headed back through the hatch.
Catherine walked over to a man that was laying on one of the many tables, clutching his leg. “Here let me have a look,” She whispered. The sailor nodded in response. “Red, isn’t it?”
“What’s that?” He replied gruffly.
“Your name, it is, Red, isn’t it?” Catherine asked a bit louder.
“Aye, that it is.” He groaned as she cut away more fabric to access his wound.
“Doc, will you come over here?” She called out, glancing up at Red who was laying back with his eyes closed. He probably knew the musket ball had not gone clean through and therefore needed to be removed. Doc explained how a ball was to be taken out but she had never done it and was not entirely sure she wanted to do it alone.
“The musket ball did not go through his leg, it will have to be removed, I think.”
“Aye, you are right.” He said, quickly examining the injury. “Best get to it, I will assist you but I want you to do it, you need to know how.” Doc explained. Catherine glanced nervously from Doc to Red.
“Do not worry yourself, lass. Red is a tough old bugger and will hardly feel a thing.” Doc reassured her, handing her the bowl with instruments and bandages.
“Right then,” Catherine exhaled and began to cleanse the wound. She hesitated before grabbing the scoop and hook that was used to grip the ball and bring it out. With a steady breath, Catherine slowly and as gently as she could felt around the small, and perfectly round wound for the musket ball. Red laid perfectly still, sweat beading down from his forehead, just below his hair. If she did not see the steady rise an fall of his chest she would have thought him dead. Catherine moved the hook and scoop in a bit further, finally feeling the hard ball at the tip of the tools.
“I found it.” She stated, not sure if she was telling herself, it was nearly over or if she was letting Doc and her patient know. Carefully, she pinched the musket ball between the hook and scoop and drew it out from the wound. She dropped the ball in the bowl with a clink. Doc quickly covered the wound with a bit of lint to stop the blood that was flowing from it again. Both Catherine and Red let out a sigh.
“Well done, very well done. I could not have done it better myself.” Doc said, “Now, finish closing up the wound and…” Doc fell to the ground as an ear ringing shot blasted through the surgery. Catherine dropped to the ground next to Doc who laid there bleeding from the arm. Catherine bit back fear as her vision blurred with tears.
“Doc, oh please, Doc.” She choked out. She ran her hands along his face and pressed her hands against the bleeding wound.
Another shot rang out and she heard a body fall to the ground. “Stay down, Miss Catherine.” Doc groaned, lifting his other arm up and grabbing hers.
Sobbing with relief, she knew that Doc was alright. Daring to glance under the table she gasped as Benjamin narrowly dodged a blade that was swung at his chest. He stepped back for a moment before lunging forward, his own sword driving through a man’s stomach. Benjamin did not pause for even a second, he swung around, his sword meeting the other sailor’s blade.
Catherine was terrified. She looked around for a weapon, surely one of the injured men brought a musket down. Lucas had given her one but she had set it down at the table she had started at, across the room. All she had was the small knife and that was going to do no good.
There was a grunt, followed by the sound of another body hitting the ground. She looked back; afraid she would see Benjamin lying lifeless on the ground. She raised a hand to her mouth. Benjamin had killed the last man but was heading for the hatch, his sword drawn.
Lucas and Alaric needed Benjamin below to look after her and Doc, in case something happened to them and Thomas’s men got below. If his men had come for her, that meant something had to have happened to Lucas and Alaric. Catherine’s heart leapt to her throat. She grabbed a handful of lint and pressed it firmly to Doc’s wound. She checked his breathing, it was slow but steady, he had become unconscious. “I will be back, please be alright.” She whispered to his still form.
Catherine stood up and rushed for the hatch, she needed to see if Lucas was injured or worse. Yanking the hatch open, she sprang onto the deck. It was a blur of men swinging swords and muskets going off. Thomas stood a few feet from the hatch, his musket raised. She turned to see who he was pointing it at.
Catherine screamed as the shot fired. Benjamin’s eyes widened, he put his hand over his chest where the ball had entered. He staggered backwards, his eyes meeting hers before he fell over the railing and into the waters below. Catherine had tried running to him, but an iron grip wrapped around her arms and body. She heard a chuckle in her ear that made her skin crawl and felt the cold metal of a musket barrel against her cheek.
Lucas grinned as the shots from Thomas’s ship fell short and splashed into the sea. He knew that Thomas was in such a rage that he would not have full control of his ship or his crew. Lucas signaled and gave the order for the crew to steer the ship around.
“Fire!” He bellowed, glancing at Alaric. Thomas would not allow his ship to be destroyed, he would attempt to board The Trinity before that happened. Lucas did not want to see his ship damaged either and did not want to risk a stray cannon ball blasting through the surgery. He would let Thomas board The Trinity. Lucas and his crew would be ready for them.
The planks slammed against the railing, allowing the men to swarm over the deck. Swords clanked against each other and muskets fired. Lucas kept an eye out for his men, trying to make sure that the injured were made to go below. Many of his crew had been through countless battles with him. They all knew each other well, their strengths and weak points. Alaric stuck close to him like they had since they were young lads, they watched each other’s backs, and always kept each other in sight.
He scanned the deck for Thomas. He had spotted him at the railing as they neared but he had disappeared as soon as the ships got close enough to board. He figured the coward all but ran off to hide until the battle ended.
Lucas swung around, blocking a blow from a large sailor, his body covered in markings. He wore an old torn up vest, his lips curled up in a vicious sneer, showing several gold teeth and several missing ones. The sailor’s blade came down heavy against Lucas’s, causing his hands to ache. As the blade rose once more, he prepared himself for the blow. Only this time he slid to the side, drawing his blade against the man’s exposed stomach. The sailor dropped to the planking of the ship, his blade slipping from his limp fingers. Lucas exhaled, he drew his musket and fired at a scraggly man that stood above Eddie. The man fell forward, nearly landing on Eddie. He shoved the man aside and stood up, nodding his thanks to Lucas.
Lucas tucked his musket back away, lunging at another sailor. The blade sliced easily through the man. There was a hiss behind him, swinging around he saw four men coming at Alaric. His arm was bleeding and tucked against his side. “I’ll take the smaller one.” Lucas grinned.
“No mate, you got the smaller one last time, it’s your turn to take on the behemoth this time.” He pointed his sword at a very large man in the middle of the four men. “Don’t fret, the large ones are always slower.” The large man snarled at them, charging forward with as much force as he could. Lucas and Alaric leapt apart, causing the big man to fall between them and onto Lucas’s waiting blade. Alaric lifted an eyebrow to Lucas, “Perhaps a bit too easy. Maybe the others will give us more of a challenge.”
Lucas turned to the three remaining sailors, opening his arms wide, “Let us see what you’ve got, lads.” A grin spread across his face as the three sailors eyed them, an equal amount of caution and fury flashing in their eyes. Lucas adjusted his grip on his sword and readied himself for the attack.
The three men sprang forward in one fluid motion, swinging their blades. Lucas knocked the blade from the smaller, rat-faced man who quickly drew a musket. He fired it. Despite being so close, missed his mark. Lucas brought his sword down against the sailor’s chest. He turned to the side to avoid being stabbed by the other man’s blade but was not quite fast enough. The blade sliced through the tender flesh of his side. His shirt draped open, the warm, sticky blood trailed down his side, soaking the edge of his breeches. He sucked in a breath at the sting. He rushed his blade forward at the same time Alaric did, the sailor’s eyes grew wide. He dropped to the ground when they withdrew their blades.
“You had better get that arm looked at.” Lucas nodded to his friend’s bloody arm.
“Your side is far worse; I will not go below until you do.” Alaric challenged.
“Very well, looks like we both will be bleeding the rest of the fight.” Lucas slapped Alaric on the shoulder, causing his friend to wince.
A shot fired behind them, followed by an ear piecing scream. The two men whirled around; Lucas’s breath caught. He took a step forward.
“Let her go, Thomas!” He bellowed. The battle around them coming to a complete halt.
Thomas laughed. He kept an eye on Lucas as he bent his head down, burying his face in Catherine’s hair that hung down past her shoulders. Lucas growled and took another step forward, careful not to move too fast. He was not sure how far Thomas would go. He did not put it past the man to use the pistol that sat up against Catherine’s cheek.
“Not another step.” Thomas pushed the musket harder against Catherine’s face, causing her to squirm. “She’s not bad at all, Harding. I see why you want to keep her to yourself.”
“You lost Thomas. Release her. You are outmanned and we both know your crew holds no loyalties towards you.” As he said this, Ethan stepped forward from the crowd of men, followed by the boy Lucas remembered from the brig.
Thomas’s eyes shifted between the men. “You and your whore will pay. The deed was a fake. The bitch signed her name and I saw no seal from the Governor on it.” He spat. “You both will get what you deserve. See, the way I look at it is, I kill one of you, the other will suffer as well.” He pressed Catherine’s body closer to him. “Seeing as how I still want a chance to get to know your woman a bit more, I guess it will be you that will die today.” He ran his hand over Catherine’s body. She flinched and tried pulling away from him. Thomas grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back. He raised his pistol from her cheek and pointed it at Lucas.
The men around Lucas raised theirs in unison, the sound of multiple clicks from muskets being cocked echoed, eerily across the deck. “Kill me and you won’t make it off this ship alive. You only have one shot in that musket, that is, if you haven’t already spent it.” Lucas said, his grip firm on the hilt of his sword, the other hand fisted tightly. He took another step closer, the wood creaking beneath his feet.
Careful to keep Catherine in front of him, Thomas looked about the ship. He stepped back, his body hitting against the railing. Shoving Catherine forward, he flipped himself backwards off The Trinity. Lucas bolted forward, gathering Catherine in his arms before she could hit the hard planks of the deck. Alaric and Ethan rushed to the railing.
Ethan fired off a shot. “Damn you!” He yelled after Thomas who was holding onto a skiff that was waiting for him. Ethan threw his musket at the man, causing the water to splash up next to his head. Thomas’s crew rushed from the ship, readying to pull away.
“Are you alright?” Lucas cupped Catherine’s face in his hands, his fingers brushed the tears off her cheeks.
She nodded but quickly shook her head. “I…I am not hurt.” She choked back a sob. “Benjamin, he…” She buried her face in his chest.
“Catherine, what about Benjamin?” Alaric’s voice broke. “Catherine, where is he?” He asked desperately.
Lucas rose her to her feet. “Catherine, what happened?” He asked gently.
“Thomas, he shot him. I tried running to him, but Thomas had already grabbed me.” She put her face in her hands, Lucas’s arms still around her. “Benjamin fell over the railing.” She whispered.
Lucas looked over at Alaric, his face pale. Alaric stumbled backwards as if someone had punched him. He turned to the railing, frantically searching the water for the boy he had taken in and grew to care for just like a son. “Alaric...” Lucas whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t,” Alaric said, shoving Lucas’s hand off him, his voice hard. “Take her below, I don’t want to see either of you.”
Lucas glanced at Catherine frozen to the spot. He looked back to his friend. “Alright,” He did not know what else to say. He knew his friend blamed them. If he had never marooned Thomas, he would have never sought revenge and if Catherine had given him the real deed, he would never have attacked, and Benjamin would still be alive and well.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and check on the rest of the men.” Lucas put his arm around Catherine, leading her to the hatch. He glanced over his shoulder, “I cared for the lad too.” He said, just loud enough for Alaric to hear. They ducked through the hatch and headed towards the surgery.
Catherine’s mouth went dry. She could hardly get the words out to tell Alaric what had happened. Her heart ached. Benjamin had told her how Alaric had saved him and had taken him in. Alaric must be feeling unimaginable pain right now. She blamed herself for not being able to save him, for not being able to stop Thomas. As they made their way down to the surgery, she clutched Lucas’s shirt. She needed to check on Doc and could not bear to watch Alaric stare into the water, hoping to spot Benjamin.
They entered the surgery, Lucas’s arm was still around Catherine, keeping her close to him. Doc was awake again and sitting on the table. He held a fresh batch of lint up to his arm that looked to still be bleeding. Doc was pale, sweat had soaked his hair and shirt. He looked like he was in more than a bit of pain.
“Oh, Doc. I am so sorry. Let me see it.” Catherine said, gently removing his hand and the lint from the wound. Blood trickled from the hole and washed down his arm as Catherine poured the water and vinegar over it.
“What happened?” Lucas asked, his voice sounded strained.
