There was another moment as William's words sank in, then Anne spoke. Then she squeezed his hand. "And your family too, I hope?"
William couldn't help but smile. "Yes. You and this ship have given me a new purpose."
The sound of boots slamming against wood above them took them away from their reminiscing. After a moment, Alexandre, Victoria, and Christina all entered the room.
Alexandre and Victoria wasted no time in preparing to treat Anne's wound. Alexandre first grabbed scissors and went to Anne's injured leg.
"And how is le patiente?"
Anne lifted the gin bottle in the air. "Excellent," she said before taking another drink.
"I see you've started already. How thoughtful."
Alexandre began by cutting away Anne's clothes from the wound. Using a deft hand, he cleared the area around the wound and then took away the pieces that had became stuck to the skin as the blood dried. After a few careful minutes, however, Alexandre stopped and stepped back slightly.
"What is it?" William asked.
Alexandre stayed still in thought. His face scrunched and deadly serious. "Victoria, prepare for amputation."
The words sent a wave of shock through William's system. Anne and Christina both looked just as shocked as he.
Christina, already in hysterics over being entranced, looked ready to burst into tears again. "Why?" was all she could muster.
"The damage is too severe. Bone fragments entered her muscle. It is impossible to remove them all. They will, at best, cause paralysis. At worst, rot."
Alexandre retrieved a sizeable curved knife and a thick piece of wood. He handed the wood to William. Victoria was shuffling around the small room, gathering things they would need after the amputation was complete.
There was no way around this, so William steeled himself. Alexandre was a consummate professional, unparalleled in the study of medicine. If he said they needed to amputate Anne's leg, there was no use arguing. Anne would survive this, there was no way she wouldn't.
William looked down at Anne. "Take another drink, Captain."
Anne, she too nearing tears, took a long drink of the gin, then handed the bottle to William. William set the bottle aside and placed the piece of wood in her mouth.
"Hold her steady, all of you."
Christina and Victoria both came to the table and put all their weight down on top of Anne to hold her still during the surgery. William placed his hands on her shoulders as he stared down at her.
Deep in her eyes, he could see fear. It was rare for her to be afraid, let alone show it, and if he were honest with himself, he too was afraid. She needed strength now more than anything else.
She lifted her head up and looked at her injured leg, part of which she was about to lose. "No, Anne," he whispered softly. "Look into my eyes." She laid her head back down, and tears streaked her face. "It's going to be all right."
16. Nassau
Edward hadn't slept properly in days. His body felt heavy, as though he were thirty feet below the sea. Moving, breathing, just existing, was gruelling and painful. He wanted it to end. And so, Edward did the one thing that helped him sleep and made him feel less pain, less leaden, less everything: he drank.
It didn't matter when; Edward drank all hours of the day, and it showed. His speech slurred from time to time, he lost his sea legs, and the cloud the booze gave him sapped his strength.
Strangely enough, his fighting ability had improved. Because of various blunders during his shifts, as well as a few misunderstandings on Edward's part, he brawled with a few of the crew. The drink helped him withstand even more punishment than he already could and made his movements unpredictable. His opponents hadn't known how to handle him under normal circumstances, and the drunkenness only made him more dangerous.
Herbert caught Edward after he had taken a rest. He was still dealing with the effects of having drunk the night before but was no longer intoxicated.
"Edward, this must stop," Herbert said.
Edward's head pounded in his ears, and his stomach lurched with each movement. "This is far too early for such talk, Herbert. Let me eat and drink, then we shall discuss whatever it is that must stop."
Herbert scowled. "It is precisely the drinking that I am referring to," he said. He glanced around him, then moved his chair closer to Edward before speaking in a whisper. "I know that you are mourning the loss of John. I know you two were… closer than you previously thought, but if you continue this, then—"
"What? I won't be in well enough shape to kill more of my family?"
Herbert's face went stark white and his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. "Keep your voice down, you fool!" he whispered harshly.
Edward didn't feel the same urgency as Herbert's tone called for, but he didn't say anything else. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his flask.
Herbert reached over and swiped the flask out of his hand. Edward tried to grab it back, but Herbert kept it out of reach. He put it in the secret compartment of his wheelchair.
"Give that back," Edward said.
"That's going to get us both killed."
Edward, his head still pounding, tired, body aching, was like a packed cannon, and Herbert was the linstock. It only took a touch for him to explode.
He reared back and punched Herbert square in the jaw. Herbert spilled out of his chair and tumbled to the deck.
Edward picked up the wheelchair, not bothering to check if Herbert was all right, and tried to open the secret compartment. "How do you work this thing?" he muttered to himself.
Herbert punched Edward on the side of the knee. He collapsed and fell to his knees, grimacing in pain. Herbert pounced and wrapped his arm around Edward's neck to choke him. Edward pulled against Herbert's arm, but Herbert's grip was secure.
"There's lead balls ready to fire
