Winds of Fate [Books IV - VI]

Chapter 182.2: Changing Course

~*~

Everyone has been so full during that day's lunch that they could barely eat tonight. Some of the men have actually gone to sleep, and Eleanore ends up helping Obbie and Dante pack the leftovers so they can be used for breakfasts and lunches in the next days. Anton waits patiently for her... and much to his surprise, Uriah suddenly appears and sits down across him.

"I believe her," the old captain says with a raised brow and a glass of rum in hand. "But now, it terrifies me more, Del Santo." Uriah worriedly looks over at him. "Because of her past... we all saw it with our own eyes. They... they gave her a command. Most probably, and that command from those gods made Nellie here question everything about them." As the old captain unravels it himself, he rubs his white beard, "And her wandering led her to this. The Lord we all have heard of. I, me self, am not really confident... I try to pray... I do pray, and I believe but..."

Anton crosses his arms over his chest and nods. "Sí?"

Uriah waves a hand and sighs deeply. "Well, look at me, this old and I have not changed much at all... But... enough about me fears for me own soul." He nods at Eleanore's way, where she is laughing with Dante behind the counter. "I fear for her. These... entities have betted on her, lent her their 'magic,' coached her, brought her into this war directly, Antonio... and now, she is leaving them all. These are old beings..."

Lo sé. I know. Anton holds his breath and places his fists on the table. He had warned her. The very first night that dark spirit, the Aztec deity, visited her... He looks away. "If only I can hide her away." Anton sighs. "Maybe we should no longer continue this mission."

Uriah hesitates. "Errrr..."

"Perhaps those relics are meant to be there. At the end, she will only be harmed." Anton presses the bridge of his nose. "Thibaud was right. What if she is still being deceived into a trap?"

"But will she stop now? She has gone this far..." Uriah asks, "There is another thing. Antonio... what about..."

And the old captain no longer puts words to it, just sighs deeply and pats his own chest.

"I don't care about my blasted heart," Anton firmly says, breathing deeply, "Let me be damned alone if it means she lives and all of you are spared."

"Antonio..." Uriah shakes his head sadly. "My boy... think deeply about this and advise her, will you?" He fidgets and pats Anton's shoulder. "I am still finding the words for her. You... talk it through. I worry for this lass. She is in great danger now more than ever."

And yet her hope is in El Señor. "Uriah."

"Aye?"

"Perhaps this is what it means to believe," he says with a sigh, "believe, in what we cannot see."

"Believe..." Uriah echoes thoughtfully as he stands up and nods. "Believe."

~*~

They return above deck, to their cabin, only to find Torkin and Poco asleep and snoring together in Torkin's basket by the window sill, where the moonlight shines over them, glistening on the little white puppy's soft white hairs. Poco fits in it, surprisingly, and Torkin rests atop him. Eleanore smiles as she kisses them both good night.

However, Anton cannot be as happy, with Uriah's words circling over and over in his head. He closes the door behind him, and nearly speaks, but as he turns... his wife is in the middle of undressing herself in the dark.

And she cannot reach the laces behind her.

"Let me," he says and springs to her aid. Eleanore thanks him, but she has chosen the quiet spot of the cabin, starboard, where the soft moonlight could only make her silhouette visible. Anton holds his breath. How he wants to hold her, be with her again, them alone... she braces herself on the wall. But duty comes first, por supuesto. He pulls at the laces expertly. Lenore... Anton languishes as the stays loosen and mark his own fingers. We don't have all the time in the world.