Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

JULY 29TH, 1666

H enri blinked slowly from his place at the far end of the infirmary as Logan entered, followed by a tall stranger carrying an expensive looking leather bag. Logan strode over to Old Joe, the Siren 's doctor, looking annoyed and had a quiet word with him. The stranger remained near the door, his eyes shyly but keenly sweeping over the patients.

Old Joe had given Henri something for the pain, but it was mostly just making him drowsy and a bit nauseous. Other people were being tended to before him. Open wounds took precedence over burns. He knew that, but it didn't lessen the pain. The burns on his leg were screaming, and there was a deeper pain radiating up his leg that he didn't want to think about just yet, all of it only slightly dulled by the drug.

Logan finished speaking to Old Joe and stepped back over to the door.

"Everyone, this is Mister Beckett," he said in a voice clear enough to carry through the room but not loud enough to wake the patients who were already sleeping. "Our captain has come to an agreement "—there was a strange emphasis on that word, but Henri couldn't place why—"with the captain of the Kraken , and they have loaned us their fancy ship's physician as part of it." With that, Logan gestured the physician forward and left.

Mister Beckett remained at the door for a moment, his fingers twisting the handle of his leather bag nervously. Then he stepped over to where Old Joe was cleaning a wound.

"Where would you like me to begin?" he asked politely, looking over the stooped man's shoulder.

Old Joe looked up from his work with rheumy eyes, as if he'd already forgotten why the man was there.

"Anywhere, anywhere," he muttered, flipping one bloody hand dismissively. A drop of blood flicked off his fingers to land on Beckett's cheek. "I already bandaged most of 'em. The ones that survived anyway." The last words held a not so subtle accusation, as if Beckett himself was personally responsible for the actions of the Kraken 's captain and crew. Beckett stepped back, then seemed to find his resolve and made his way slowly from bed to bed, checking on Old Joe's work and assessing the most dire cases. Henri watched him between heavy eyelids as he made his way closer. There was a faint smile on the man's face as if he was pleasantly surprised, or mildly amused, by the old ship doctor's work. He adjusted a few things here and there. And finally he made it to the hard cot where Henri lay.

Henri blinked up at him, trying to focus on his features through eyes bleary with pain and whatever drug Old Joe had given him. The doctor had a round, pleasant face, framed by sandy, brownish-blond hair that fell over his forehead. He was tall. Probably even taller than Henri's considerable height and his skin was paler than any seafaring man had a right to be. He was the cleanest person in the room by far, as if he'd spent the entirety of the battle safely tucked away like a pearl in an oyster shell. In contrast, Henri and the other Siren crew members were streaked with gunpowder, ash, and blood.

Unfortunately, Henri was intimately familiar with the infirmary after a battle. He'd always been a bit accident prone, and living on an active pirate ship only exacerbated that. His mother had never wanted him to follow in his parents' pirating footsteps, but they were both gone now, and he was here.

Henri's mother would have scolded him if she saw him in this state, lying on a cot in the belly of a pirate ship, all drugged up against the pain, his clothes fire blackened around the edges. He was sure a few of his locs were singed at the ends too.

Beckett tilted his head, hazel eyes meeting Henri's brown ones, gaze soft but assessing. Then he saw Henri's leg.

"Good god man, have they not even cleaned this?" Shocked, he took in the raw burns across Henri's skin between the scorched edges of his pant leg. He reached out, fingers hesitating for just a moment before prodding the edge of one of the burns on Henri's shin.

Henri hissed in pain, and Beckett's gaze flicked back to his face.

"Broken too, I reckon. We'll have to clean and splint it carefully if you don't want to have a limp. I think there will be some scarring though."

He retreated to grab his bag and a pot of boiled water. He set both to the side and pulled out a pair of wicked looking sheers. Henri flinched, remembering for the first time that this man was technically an enemy.

"I'll have to cut away your pant leg," Beckett explained. Henri stayed tense but nodded to show he understood. Beckett's straightforward demeanor put Henri a bit more at ease, despite his current circumstances.

"What's your name? Mine's Robin."

Henri opened his mouth to speak but found his throat unbearably dry and raw. All that came out was a pathetic croak.

"Smoke inhalation too." Robin Beckett shook his head. He left for a moment and returned with a cup of water. "Can you sit up?"

Henri was able to raise himself to his elbows, the fracture in his leg flaring painfully with every movement. Robin hovered like a worried hen, then seemed to decide something. He cupped the back of Henri's neck with one hand to steady his head as he held the cup up to his lips. Henri took a few grateful gulps before collapsing onto his back once more.

"Henri," he managed to rasp.

"Okay, Henri." Robin's voice was deep and gentle. "Here's what we'll do…"

The physician expertly cut away Henri's pant leg up to his thigh, leaving him feeling a bit exposed. But as soon as Robin touched a damp cloth to the burns to begin cleaning, Henri forgot all about modesty. Excruciating pain shot through his raw nerves as Robin meticulously cleaned the burns and set about picking bits of scorched sailcloth and pant threads away from his skin with tweezers. He spread a bitter smelling ointment from a jar over the skin and bandaged it thoroughly.

Then it was time to set the bone.

"This will hurt badly." Robin warned him, handing Henri a leather strap to bite down on.

Robin grasped his leg. Henri's fingers gripped the edge of the hard cot and he nodded. With a deft movement Robin realigned the bone. Pain, as deep and terrible as any he'd ever experienced shot up Henri's leg. And everything went black.

When Henri came to, Robin was sitting beside him, dabbing his forehead with a cool damp cloth. Henri's eyes fluttered open, and the physician's face was the first thing he saw. His gaze flicked down to where his leg was neatly splinted with two pieces of wood that snugly fit the contours of his leg from ankle to just below the knee.

"Water…"

Robin seemed almost startled that Henri was awake but fetched a cup of water swiftly. He helped Henri sit up with a firm hand on his back. Henri's head swam with vertigo, but he managed.

"Don't you have other patients?" Henri asked when he'd managed to get his voice back. It was still raspy and smoke damaged.

"I attended them already. You were out for quite a while."

Henri's eyes swept through the small infirmary, realizing that about half the injured men were no longer there, and neither was Old Joe. Apprehension spiked in his gut as he remembered that despite Robin's gentle demeanor, he worked for the Deep Water Demon.

"Old Joe is resting, and the others have been patched up and sent back to their quarters." Robin explained quickly, seeing Henri's perplexed expression. He was only one of four patients now, the other three sleeping. His face heated.

"There's no shame in passing out," Robin assured him, seeming to read his mind once again. He frowned. "A broken leg is no small thing. You'll be out of commission for months. I hope your captain is the patient sort."

While some pirate captains would ditch injured and non-useful crew members at the first opportunity, the Ghost Hawk, despite his fierce reputation, was not like that. He cared for his crew like family. Better than family, for Henri was the only pirate among them who had been raised well and with love. One had only to look at Old Joe, a man who was well past his prime as a doctor, to realize that. Soon enough it would be the crew taking care of Old Joe, not the other way around, and they would be happy to do it.

Captain Rowan had been searching for a replacement doctor at every port for a while now, so Old Joe could enjoy his retirement. But not just any old sawbones would do. Rowan wanted someone competent and caring. Someone who wouldn't be quick to condemn an injured man. Someone who actually washed his hands with some regularity, which was a concerning rarity in the seafaring world.

Henri let his gaze sweep over Robin when the man wasn't looking. It seemed that they had found one such physician, if only temporarily.

Before he could respond to Robin's worries, another man he didn't know swept into the room. Robin scrambled to his feet as the man made a beeline for him.

"I need you." The man was not as tall as Robin but held an air of elegance and superiority. His black hair was slightly rumpled, but his coat was immaculate, and he wore a large ruby in one earlobe.

Robin frowned slightly, his eyes sliding to Henri then back to the man. His posture straightened up even more.

"Captain," Robin said before the other man could continue. Henri flinched, realizing this was the infamous Deep Water Demon, freely walking around their ship like he owned the place. What kind of deal had Rowan struck? "With all due respect, I have patients to attend to. So unless you've seriously injured this one, I don't have time to care for your conquests," Robin finished.

"Conqu—" Henri choked, sitting up quickly, causing his leg to flare with pain. "What the hell did you do to our captain …" His head swam with sudden dizziness and Robin guided him back down to the cot with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

The Deep Water Demon watched him with sharp mirthful eyes.

"Nothing horrible," he said nonchalantly, "I expect he'll be down to check on you once he can walk again." He smirked at the flare of rage in Henri's eyes.

Then his attention turned back to Robin. "At least give me something for his back. A hot water bottle maybe. Everything seems quite calm now." Robin nodded and busied himself with preparing a hot compress. When the Demon got it in his hands, he swept from the room without another word.

Robin sat heavily on his stool next to Henri's cot.

"That was the Demon?" Henri asked incredulously.

Robin nodded.

"Why's he here?"

Robin looked distinctly uncomfortable for a moment, mulling over how he should answer.

"I, ah… It seems our captains have found a common ground." He sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Being mysterious bastards?" Henri guessed.

Robin's surprised laugh was like sunlight in a storm. Henri didn't know how, but they seemed to have become fast friends. His earlier anxiety dissipated the more he talked with Robin.

"They're lovers," Robin answered after his laughing fit had subsided.

"What?!" Henri's shout cut off with a coughing fit that had Robin rushing to get him more water. Several of the other patients stirred but did not wake. Henri's mind was reeling. He'd never known Rowan to take lovers, let alone his arch rival who he'd been determined to sink to the bottom of the ocean just earlier today.

Before Robin could answer, the door burst open, and Fox barreled through dragging yet another stranger by the hand.

"Henri!" he screeched, before noticing the other patients and lowering his voice. They must have been on some great drugs if they hadn't woken up by now. He stopped beside Henri's cot, his fingers twined with the stranger's. "I'm glad you're okay!" His gaze swept over Henri's bandaged and splinted leg. "Or…are you okay?"

"I'll survive," Henri answered, his brows furrowing in confusion. There was so much happening, and he was so tired. He wished he could go back to his own cabin and sleep for the next week. But Fox's familiar, wide smile was a balm to his pain. His friend's sunshine-y energy could always brighten his mood.

Fox turned to the stranger. "This is my friend Henri," he said, his free hand furling out to present Henri like a kid showing off a particularly interesting rock he'd found. The stranger nodded in greeting, looking a bit overwhelmed by Fox's enthusiasm. Fox turned back to Henri. "And this is my…" He paused for a moment, mouth open. "…Ga?l," he finished.

"Nice to meet you," Ga?l said with a wry smile on his face.

"You too," Henri croaked.

Fox's eyes slid to Robin. "You must be the doc."

"I'm Robin Beckett." Robin held out his hand for Fox to shake, but Fox's fingers were still entangled in Ga?l's, so Robin dropped it.

"We've been assigned to keep an eye on you," Ga?l explained to his crewmate.

"The hardest part is over," Robin said. "That fellow over there has a fever, and Henri will need help getting around and frequent bandage changes. It's mostly just maintenance from here on out." He paused. "Am I staying?"

"Seems like it," Ga?l said. He and Fox shared a look.

"Logan is taking your room for a little while," Fox piped up to Henri.

"What? Why?"

Fox looked at Ga?l again and smiled. A small spark of realization flickered in Henri's mind. It seemed the captain wasn't the only one who had gained a lover from the Kraken .

"Never mind."