Herotica 1 by Kerry Greenwood

Author:Kerry Greenwood [Greenwood, Kerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780994353825
Publisher: Clan Destine Press
Published: 2016-03-06T13:00:00+00:00

And so it has been. There is nothing I miss. There is nothing I need. And I lie every night in silk, next to the most beautiful creature in the world, whom I shall love until I die.

Usually linguists are not this lucky.

CASTAWAYS

QUEENSCLIFF 1821

There was a wall of water, there was fire, a huge explosion that split the sky and then – nothing. I thought I had died and was rather looking forward to Heaven, assuming that I had qualified for entrance, when suddenly every muscle, every nerve, every bone in my body hurt. I screamed in agony. I heard someone whisper, close to my neck, ‘Thank you God, thank you God, thank you, thank you, thank you Jesus, God have mercy, Christ have mercy,’ and I thought perhaps that it was an angel. That was appropriate language for an angel, certainly. Except that we were in Heaven, where there is no weeping, and hot tears were falling on my face.

I grasped with both hands and got an armful of human. A man, shoulders, torso, chest to my chest, mouth to my mouth. He was still muttering prayers. He slipped a hand onto my chest and felt for my heart. I tried to speak and croaked.

‘Alive?’ I asked.

‘Yes, thank God, I thought I was alone,’ he answered. ‘Are you much hurt? Can you sit up?’

He was kneeling beside me. He put both arms around me and hauled me into a sitting position. The world spun and rocked and resolved. I blinked. The sea. It was lumpy and dangerous and scattered with debris. A beach. Unmoving shapes lay scattered along it. Oh. Dead sailors, come to port at last. And me and this young man the only survivors, castaway on an alien shore. No wonder he had been praying. At least now there were two of us.

‘All dead?’ I asked, leaning my forehead against his shoulder.

‘So far,’ he said.

‘We must have hit the powder magazine,’ I reasoned.

‘And it exploded,’ he agreed. ‘Roebuck broke her back and sank in a moment, the Royal Fortune burned to the waterline and slipped under. We must have been flung into the air, through that rip and almost up onto this beach. The others have been washing ashore all morning. Come, I’ve found a source of fresh water.’

He helped me to my unsure feet and conducted me across the sand as devoutly as if I was a dowager great aunt with a fortune to leave to an attentive great-nephew. I staggered. I still had both boots on, but my shirt had gone with my hat and my breeches were in rags. My skin felt tight, but moving at least reminded me that I was not, in fact, dead. His hands on me were sure and gentle.

Before us was a grove of trees, a stretch of green and a falling stream of water. A pleasant sight to my dry, red, salt caked eyes.

‘I forget my manners,’ I croaked. ‘Your name, sir?’

‘John Laurence,’ he replied. ‘And whom do I have the honour of assisting?’

‘Second Lieutenant Evan Purcell.

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