Lull Before the Storm

Dear Victor

I hope this finds you well. Can you believe it has been three years? Three years since I sailed on the HMS Surprise. I know you said that I would forget all about the Surprise and her crew in no time, but I haven't. I still miss it. Sometimes I dream about sailing again, with all the people I grew to love on that ship. But never mind. I hope things are going well for you in Brazil. I know you said in your last letter that you were terribly busy, but if you could spare the time, please come home. Aunt Jane asks me to tell you that we need your help. Things are getting worse here. The war still goes on, and if the rumors are true, the French army is getting closer. And they aren't the least of our worries. There are all kinds of bandits and robbers. Our villa is endangered almost nightly. Some of them are just desperate men, but some are hardened criminals who try and break into the house. This happened just the other night, poor Aunt Jane was terrified. Luckily I am still very handy with a gun, but I had to shoot at least three men before they withdrew and left us alone.

This is happening more and more frequently, it can't go on. Please come home, Victor.

Your sister,

Violet.

Violet laid down her pen and reread her letter. It seemed short and brusque, but it would have to do. Perhaps now Victor was understand how dangerous it was here and come home. Although what good would he do? Jane often talked about how much safer it would be to have a man around the house, and Violet held her tongue. Personally she felt that Victor would be less than useless. Unless he had suddenly acquired defensive skills in Brazil, which she doubted, he could not shoot, could not use a sword, and if the house was laid siege to, would be most likely to hand over his sister and aunt to the attackers if it would save his own life.

Violet sealed the letter. It was just over a mile to the nearest town, where she could send off the letter. On the long, dark, dangerous nights, it seemed much, much more than a mile to the safety of the town. Not that the town was so safe nowadays. With the advancing soldiers and increasing lawlessness, more and more people were leaving. Occassionally Jane talked about leaving, and that always sent a cold chill of fear down Violet's spine. She was twenty-one now, and her parents had no legal hold on her. Still, there was that familiar old fear.

It was a warm, hot day, and Violet walked briskly, letter in hand. The road was wide and dusty, with trees either side. She loved this walk, it gave her time to think. She looked down at her letter. Not that it will do any good. She thought cynically. Victor had ignored all their previous requests for help, preferring instead to talk at length about his important work and how much he enjoyed it, and how busy they all were out there. Violet still asked for him to come home, more at her aunt's insistence than from any desire to see her brother. 'We were so close.' she said to the sky. It was hard, so hard, to realise that her beloved twin brother was not the noble, courageous young man she wished he was.

A rustle in the undergrowth woke her from her reverie. There was not a hint of breeze in the air. Violet walked a little faster. The town was in sight, and she reached it with no trouble. Before she left for the return journey, she slipped into a small, dark shop, and purchased a pistol and a dagger from a sour, disapproving little old man, and set off home.

The town was well out of sight, and she was two-thirds of the way home, when two men stepped out of the undergrowth and stood in front of her.

'Stop there, missy.' a tall man, standing in the middle, commanded. Violet was vaguely surprised to find that he was english.

'I'm afraid I can't, sir.' she replied, trying to sound unruffled. 'I am expected home.' she slowed her pace, but continued walking towards them.

'I would advise you to stop, madam.' the tall man snapped angrily, taking a step toward her, 'or your old aunt will suffer.' Violet stopped at about twenty paces away. 'What have you done to my aunt?' she asked with deceptive calmness.

'Nothing yet.' he smirked. 'But we know you have lots of money and jewels and what not. If we don't get what we're after, we'll cut your throats. So if you know what's good for you,' he continued, dropping the facade of politeness, 'you'll behave.'

'Are you going to move?' Violet asked sweetly. The tall man glared viciously at her, withdrew a small knife, and advanced. Quick as lightning, she raised her pistol in her left hand to eye level and shot him once in the chest. The tall man gaped at her in surprise, before slumping to the floor. Both the two remaining men rushed towards her, and Violet dispatched the next with a single shot. The third one decided that he would do best to leave her alone, and ran into the undergrowth. From the safety of the trees, he threw a large stone at Violet. It grazed the side of her head, and she ran all the way home.

'Violet!' Jane gasped in horror. 'Your head!'

Violet gingerly dabbed at her head. 'What? Oh. It's not as bad as it looks. I 'll take care of it later.'

'What happened?'

Violet explained, trying to gloss over the worst parts of her attack. Jane Tavers' face grew graver and graver. 'This is the final straw.' she muttered. 'I'm sorry, Violet. We have to leave.'

Violet felt as if an icy dagger had been plunged into her heart. 'But...'

'No buts, Violet. I love it here even more than you do. Don't forget, this has been my home for at least fifteen years. But I will not risk your safety any longer. A ship leaves for England tomorrow at dawn, but we can take our places on it tonight. We leave in an hour.' with that, she swept out of the room, leaving her niece breathless at her rapid decision-making.

This is familiar. Violet thought miserably. She and her seasick aunt were crammed into a small, draughty cabin with all of their luggage. Her aunt was lying down, groaning quietly under her breath. The ship, a merchant ship, was lurching and rocking, although the sea was reasonably calm. 'It's been like this for days now.' Jane Tavers moaned.

'I know.' Violet sighed. 'It shouldn't be. I'm going to go on deck to see what's wrong.'

Once on deck, she stood by the rail and stared out to sea, breathing deeply. The violent motion of the ship didn't bother her, but the breeze coming across from the west was damp and cold. It spoke of storms over the horizon. And the wind was blowing them this way. Hmm. If we don't slow our pace, she thought, frowning to herself, we risk running onto a reef.

'Now, now, what are you doing up here?' the captain's voice interrupted the thoughts. 'It can be dangerous. What if you fell overboard, madam?'

'I can swim, sir.' Violet replied coldly. She and Captain Allistair did not see eye to eye. He was a arrogant, greedy man, with florid complexion of a habitual drunkard and perpetually smelt of strong whiskey. He had charged Violet and her aunt an exaggerated price for their tiny room, and terrorized his pathetic group of sailors. She couldn't help comparing him in her mind to Jack Aubrey.

'Hmf.' he snorted disdainfully.

'Looks like a storm is coming.' Violet continued. Allistair sniffed the air elaborately. 'No, I don't think so.'

Violet gritted her teeth. He was humoring her. 'Look,' she pointed a slight haze around the distant horizon.

'Hmm.' Allistair shrugged. 'Don't worry about it.'

'But if a storm is coming, surely we should slow down, and take in the sails?'

'Really? Well thank you, madam, for you expert opinion. Why would we do that? Do tell.'

'Because if we don't, when the storm hits, we'll be blown right onto those reefs ahead.' Violet pointed.

Allistair laughed quietly. 'When the storm hits? Don't you mean if? I don't believe it will hit us, even if there is a storm. I mean, there's not even any breeze now!'

'Haven't you ever heard of the lull before the storm?' Violet snapped, losing her patience.

Allistair laughed complacently and patted her cheek before walking away.

Furious, Violet returned to her room. It's so unfair. I can sail better than him, I know it! What kind of sailor can't even read the weather signs? A blind man could tell that a storm is coming! Just can't bear to take any advice! She sat down heavily on the bed, seething. She was forced to seethe quietly, since her aunt was now asleep. Jack would have listened.

The rocking of the ship intensified. Violet felt herself tensing up. The breeze was gradually turning into a howling wind. She heard sudden, worried activity on deck, voices shouting orders. She reached over and shook her aunt by the shoulder.

'Hmm..wha...what is it, dear?' Jane murmured sleepily.

'Be ready, Aunt Jane.'

'Ready for what?'

At midnight, some six hours later, above the screaming of the wind and the sound of ripping sails and splintering wood, Violet felt the ship give on last lurch, and shuddered to a painful, noisy halt as it impaled itself on a reef below the surface of the water. Violet and Jane Tavers were ready. Even so, the ship sank far quicker than Violet had anticipated. Only five people made it on to the lifeboat. Violet, Jane Tavers, a young sailor of fourteen years old, Jacob, and two brothers, James and Harry. The five people watched the ship sink ponderously to its watery grave through the veil of rain.

'Great.' Harry grumbled. 'Now we're stuck. We need a miracle.'

A miracle was exactly what they got. Not an hour later, Jacob spotted a ship on the horizon. They shouted and screamed, wildly waving their arms, and the ship headed straight to them, much to their delight. The ship loomed right over the tiny lifeboat, and one by one, the wet, miserable, bedraggled occupants climbed aboard. Violet brushed her wet hair out of her eyes and behind her ears, and hitched up her skirt so that she could climb the rope ladder.

'Be careful!' Jane called up anxiously. Violet focused on climbing. She was bone tired. It took all her strength to haul herself up to the next rung. As the reached the top, her foot slipped on the wet rung and she nearly fell. She saved herself, and as she reached for the next rung she felt a strong, rough, warm hand grasp hers, and lift her up over the rails to safety.

'Thank you,' she mumbled, and looked up at her saviour, and her jaw dropped. For he was smiling down at her, rain dripping into her eyes. 'Thank you, Captain Aubrey,' she said.