Raven Quest (23 page)

Hearing a bawdy song, she saw men in a taproom that was leaning back from the street. Rum streamed out the door, but the drinking, gambling, and whoring continued.

A soldier came around the side of a building. He looked as if he was walking in his sleep, but he held his sword out in front of him.

Nathan lowered the man's arm slowly. “Friend, we are all in this together.”

The man's face wrinkled as he began to weep.

Another soldier appeared from around the debris. Looking at the first soldier, he cursed before turning to them and asking, “Where were you when it hit?”

“On the spit by Fort Charles,” Nathan replied.

“Is it still there?”

“Yes. The walls are cracked, but it still stands.”

The soldier closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “At least one of them didn't sink into the sea.”

“The other forts are gone?” Rory gasped. Without the king's men, what was left of Port Royal would be an easy target for any pirate.

“Aye. Gone with all inside their walls.” He straightened and asked in a sterner voice, “Where are you bound?”

“We're looking for a woman who worked at Yellow Hal's place.”

“Yellow Hal's place?” he repeated, his voice faltering on each word. “It's gone.” He glanced at the harbor where the waves were still too high and crashing over broken houses.

“We know that,” Rory said, wondering if they all looked as lost as these soldiers. “Do you know where survivors are going?”

“Some told me they were heading toward the synagogue on New Street. It's still above water.”

As Nathan continued to talk with the soldier, Rory turned to Ernest. “We'll find Olive.”

He tried to smile but failed. “I should have asked her to go with me before we left. I could have asked the cap'n to bring her with you to the
Vengeance.
At the time, I thought having her aboard would jeopardize our chances to find the gold.” His second attempt to grin was more successful, although pain still dimmed his eyes. “Now you can see why the cap'n and I get along so well. We both make the same stupid mistakes. We thought the gold was the most important thing in our lives.”

“He still does.”

“Does he?”

Rory faltered, for she had no answer but a question of her own. “If he does not want the gold, then why did we chase Yellow Hal back here?”

“He does want the gold. For you.”

“I don't want that gold. It's cursed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rory! Ernest!” called Nathan. “Let's check the synagogue.”

Grimly, Ernest nodded.

Rory understood his despair. It was hard to believe anyone had escaped alive. Rushing to Nathan's side, she reached for his hand, then pulled it back. A captain did not hold his cabinboy's hand.

The synagogue was surrounded by a sparkling collection of broken glass. The roof hung at a dangerous angle, so no one was going inside. A man stood outside with a stack of books beside him. At first, Rory thought he might be the rabbi but then heard him giving orders in the name of the lieutenant governor of Jamaica, John White, who had assumed control of the island after the governor's death at the beginning of the year. The King's House, where the Council usually met, must be gone.

Nathan went to him, stepping over sheaves of papers that somehow had been saved. “Are you in charge?” he asked.

“I am Cruikshank, the lieutenant governor's assistant.” It was somehow comforting to see that, despite the destruction, the slow-moving wheels of government continued to turn. As if he sat in a fine chamber instead of standing on the street, he asked, “Who are you?”

“Nathan Lawler of the
Vengeance.
”

“Captain, you'll have to find your ship by yourself. I have no idea where anything is now.”

“My ship is fine.”

Cruikshank's eyebrows shot nearly to his dark hair. “It is? Where is it?”

“By Fort Charles.” Before Cruikshank could ask another question, he said, “We're looking for a friend.”

He snorted in disgust at what he clearly considered a foolish question. “Good luck.”

“We were told folks were coming here,” Rory said.

“Some are. Others are going to Dr. Heath's house.”

“Dr. Heath?” asked Ernest.

Rory put her hand on his arm. “Dr. Heath is the rector at St. Paul's.”

“The rector?” Nathan asked, smiling. “He's still alive?”

Not sure why he was smiling, she turned back to Cruikshank. “Are you certain of that? St. Paul's is gone.”

“The rector's house is still standing, from what I've been told. If anyone can help you, it will be Dr. Heath. He always hears about everything that happens in Port Royal, sooner or later.” He paused, then said, “Captain Lawler, if there's another tremor, you may consider your ship the property of the government as a refuge.”

“Of course. If necessary, the
Vengeance
is available to help.”

Thanking Cruikshank after he had given them directions to the rector's house, Nathan hurried them toward the other side of Port Royal. Wanting to ask him why he was in such a rush, Rory saved her energy for keeping up with him. This was a part of the city she had visited seldom. Even if she had been familiar with it, many of the landmarks she knew were gone. She had not realized before how she had used St. Paul's bell tower to guide her.

She was astonished to see that the brick houses in this neighborhood were straight, and the fancywork on the metal balconies had not tipped awry like the rest of the city. Yet there was damage. Cracks crawled up many walls. People crowded streets which usually were quiet. Every stoop had people hunched on it. Most doors were thrown open, and the residents were tending to those who had lost everything.

Nathan knocked on a door that was not open. A white-haired butler in immaculate livery drew it back and asked as calmly as if catastrophe did not surround them, “May I help you, sir?”

Rory wanted to hug the tall man. The sight of him comforted her as much as Cruikshank's stacks of papers and books.

“Please convey my respects to Dr. Heath and tell him Captain Nathan Lawler of the
Vengeance
wishes to speak with him about some private matters.”

Matters?
She saw he was smiling again. What else did he wish to speak to Dr. Heath about? The rector could not help them with Yellow Hal and the gold.

“Come in, sir,” the butler said, “and I will see if Dr. Heath can spare a moment to speak with you.”

They were ushered into a wide hallway which ran the length of the house so the breezes from the sea could cool the rooms. Fine rugs covered beautifully polished stone, and a wide staircase led to the second floor.

She turned slowly, staring at everything. She had never imagined anything this lovely could be in Port Royal, for this house surpassed even Padre Fernando's La Casa de las Flores.

The butler returned on silent steps. “Please follow me, gentlemen.”

Nathan smiled as he motioned for Rory to go first. The butler walked toward the back of the house. He held open a door, and they entered what seemed to be the rector's study, for the walls were covered with bookcases. She had not guessed so many books existed in the whole world.

A handsome man with hair as white as his butler's stood and held out his hand to Nathan. His clerical collar and dark shirt were wrinkled, but his voice was sincere as he said, “Welcome, Captain Lawler. I am Dr. Heath. Please be seated and tell me what you have seen.”

Rory realized quickly that the rector knew most of what Nathan was telling him, for he nodded with a distressed expression as he listened.

“It grows only worse and worse as I hear more,” Dr. Heath said. Sighing, he asked, “How may I help you?”

“Two things. First, we are looking for a lass named Olive …” He paused and glanced at Rory.

“Olive Poole.” She hesitated as she glanced at Dr. Heath's collar, then said, “She's a friend of mine who worked at Yellow Hal's place, not far from the king's warehouses on the harbor.”

Dr. Heath sighed again, more deeply. “I hear that area is completely gone. However, I can have a few queries made.” Getting a description of Olive from Rory, with more than a few comments thrown in by Ernest, he rang for a young boy. “See what you can find out before sundown,” he added as the boy ran out of the room.

“Before sundown?” Nathan asked, astonished. “That can't be more than three or four hours from now. That seems an incredibly short amount of time.”

“I don't want the lad out after dark. To be honest, it should not take long to discover if anyone survived down by the wharves. So few did.” He squared his shoulders. “What is the other thing I can do for you?”

Nathan smiled and laced his fingers through Rory's. “We'd like to get married, Dr. Heath.”

“Married?” he asked at the same time Rory did.

She stared at Nathan, who chuckled softly. As he raised her hand to his lips, she whispered, “You want to marry me? You never said anything about that before.”

“We didn't have a minister around before. Will you marry me, Rory?”

“You don't have to marry me.” She drew her hand out of his.

“
Have to
…” His eyes widened along with his grin. “Are you telling me that you carry my child?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Taking a steadying breath, she whispered, “You didn't know, and you still want to marry me?”

“Isn't that what two people in love do?” His hand curved along her cheek. “Sweetheart, when the earthquake sent us reeling, I feared I would lose the
Vengeance,
the gold, my life, everything. But then I realized, the only thing I would regret losing was you. Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” Tears ran along her face, but she did not wipe them away as she brushed her lips across his. She tried not to touch his broken arm.

Ernest chuckled. “It's about time, Cap'n. I thought she'd have to grow as round as a barrel with that baby before you noticed the cause of her sickness the past week.”

“You knew?” Nathan asked, then laughed and squeezed Rory's fingers.

Dr. Heath looked uncertainly from Rory to Nathan. “I'm afraid I don't understand. You're speaking as if this lad is with child.”

Rory drew off her hat and shook out her hair. “We thought it prudent for me to wear a disguise in Port Royal.”

“Why shouldn't it be safe for you when you're with these two men?”

“I have a vicious enemy. Yellow Hal Warwick.”

Dr. Heath's eyes slitted. “A very dangerous enemy, young lady. Rory, did you say?”

“My real name is Aurora Mullins. My mother was Kassy Mullins and my father Captain Stuart Powell of the
HMS Raven.
My mother was a member of your church, I've been told.”

“Over twenty years ago, I would guess.”

“Yes, she died the day I was born.”

“And a shame it was.”

“You remember my mother?” Her fingers tightened around Nathan's.

“Not well, Miss Mullins, but once having met Kassy, it was hard to forget her. As I would guess it would be hard to forget you. She was not only lovely but quite spirited and unquestionably intelligent. How she loved Captain Powell!” He chuckled. “She actually convinced him to come to church with her a few times. He was a fine man as well. It was a match I was pleased to see, Miss Mullins.” He paused, bafflement wrinkling his brow. “
Miss Mullins,
did you say?”

“Yes, Dr. Heath.” She wished she had known to come to him years ago. All around her had been the answers to the mysteries of her past, but she had never looked for them.

“Here is something you might wish to see.” He reached for a volume behind him on a bookcase. He opened it, flipped through the pages, then returned it and selected another. Thumbing through it, he smiled. “Can you read?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Then look at this entry in the church's records. It's as I thought.”

By the date
July 17, 1670
was written: “Married by special license Stuart Powell, master of the
HMS Raven,
to Kassy Mullins, spinster of the city.”

Rory glanced up in shock. “They were married?”

“I remember it so well because they were in such a great hurry but were kind enough to wait an extra day. Your father was eager to put to sea, and your birth was imminent.”

She nodded numbly. “I was born in July?”

“No, at the end of August.” He paged through another few pages and pointed to a page listing her baptism. “The woman who brought you was insistent you be baptized Aurora Raven Mullins, rather than Powell. I thought that odd, for your father was as excited about the marriage as Kassy. She had been a member of my congregation from the time she arrived in Port Royal as an indentured servant. When she took up with a privateer, I had been concerned, but he was a good man, even though, like so many, he ended up dead.” He smiled. “Perhaps that explains why your mother wanted you to have her name. It would protect you from his enemies.”

“Like Yellow Hal?”

He shoved the book back on the shelf. “Exactly. Now you would like to marry Captain Lawler?”

She nodded, wondering if she could speak her vows past the lump in her throat. As with everything else she had learned in the past weeks, seeing the entry in the book brought her parents heartbreakingly to life.

As Dr. Heath went to get his books and the papers necessary for the ceremony, Nathan stood. “Are you all right, Aurora Raven
Powell?
”

“After all this time, a name shouldn't matter, but it does. All these years I hated my father for leaving my mother. Now, I am learning over and over he loved her and he loved me.” Her grin returned. “Let's not keep our wedding a secret from our child, Nathan.”

“I will make him—or her—a sign to wear around the neck that says: ‘My father and mother are married and love me and each other dearly.' Would that suffice?”