In The Arms Of My Pirate

Scars of the Past

"Have you lost your mind?" Dr. Green hissed.

Charles gestured for him to lower his voice, leading the doctor away from the sleeping woman.

"The crew still haven't fully accepted you as the captain," Dr. Green continued. "You must give her up to the crew to gain their trust."

"No," Charles snapped. "Not an option."

"But if they discover her—"

"I will not see a repeat of Cape Hatteras," Charles shook his head. "Will you?"

Dr. Green's gaze dropped to the floorboards. Charles knew that his companion also struggled to deal with the horrors they witnessed that night a year before.

"They will do far worse to us if they discover that we've hidden a woman from them aboard the ship," Dr. Green sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"She knows something about my sisters." Charles looked over his shoulder at the young woman.

Even dressed as a man, with dirt and grime smeared across her cheeks, she was stunningly beautiful. It was a miracle that she hadn't been discovered already. How long had she been masquerading as a boy?

"I understand your pain," Dr. Green's voice rose with panic. "But I don't want to die. I'm sorry. I have no choice. I have to tell the crew—"

Before Dr. Green could turn to leave, Charles grabbed him around the throat with one hand.

The man's eyes widened and he clawed at Charles' fingers. "W-what are you--?"

Charles tightened his grip, anger burning through his veins. "Do not think our shared history makes us friends," he growled. "I will not hesitate to silence you for good."

Dr. Green struggled to swallow, his face paling even as Charles continued to cut off his air supply. "F-for a w-woman—?"

Charles shoved the man back against the door, the wood groaning. "For this one."

The silence drew out between them until Dr. Green finally gave a tiny nod.

Charles released him and the man slumped against the door, holding his throat and coughing.

"Don't get any ideas, Green," he warned, pointing a finger at Dr. Green's face. "I will not lose this chance to find the truth about my sisters."

"You'll get us both killed," Dr. Green coughed.

"I'm already dead," Charles said, his voice hollow. "Help her, or I'll throw you overboard."

Dr. Green threw a wounded look at Charles but picked up his medical bag. He examined the unconscious patient while the captain looked on, hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

"She has torn the flesh quite badly," Dr. Green muttered. "And that metal is filthy. The infection was swift."

"Can you do anything?"

"I can clean and dress the wound," Dr. Green said, peering over the rim of his glasses to get a better look at Palmer's wrist. "Give her something for the fever. With a few days' rest, she may recover."

"She doesn't have a few days," Charles growled. "Not without raising suspicions among the crew."

"They already think you have a soft spot for the lad," the doctor agreed, rifling through his bag.

Charles pondered for a moment, rubbing his thumb across the worn leather of the hilt. "We'll put her on navigation duty. Do what you can."

Silently, the doctor cleaned the wound with a bottle of rum. Palmer was in such a fevered state that she merely winced at the pain, her eyes remaining closed. With the angry red sores cleaned, Dr. Green smoothed a chunky green salve over the wound and wrapped it tightly with strips of bloodstained cloth.