Captain Of His Soul
By Marcher
gama39@austarmetro.com.au

PG13

I'm on high ground
Put this weight down
Of one thing you can be sure
On the ocean ships are sailin'
But I don't need them anymore
(Steve Prestwich)

Chapter 1  ~  Quarrel In The Car

Evelyn sat in the front seat of her brother's car while her angry husband steered the vehicle though the crowded streets in the direction of the Fort.  The mood between them was hostile and frosty.  Quite an achievement, given the stifling heat of the midday sun.

Neither had spoken a word to each other since, in her opinion, he had rudely escorted her from the Museum's Library and ushered her into the waiting car.  She sat, arms folding tightly across her chest,  fuming at his actions.    There was no,  'by your leave' or 'Evelyn, I'm concerned about you.'   No, he just barged in mid way through a discussion with the Curator,  grabbed her by the arm and led her from the building.  To complicate her fury, he hadn't even had the decency to offer an excuse for the embarrassment he had caused, nor any suggestion of what she might say to her employer the next day.

She ventured a stern look in his direction and snapped, "I suppose an apology is too much to ask for?"

He took his eyes from the road for only a moment, but it was long enough to relay a look of positive anger and dissent.  Without so much as a word he had relayed his message and Evelyn had received it loud and clear.  She was in serious trouble with this one!  She dared not admit the fatigue which now hovered over her in case it produced a barrage of rebuke from him, something she was certain she could not tolerate right now.

She leaned her elbow on the door, letting her head rest in her hand as the journey home continued on silently.  She had never seen Rick this angry in their short marriage and was at a loss as how to handle him.  When she had slipped away this morning, she had imagined him being slightly annoyed at her, but overall he would have understood her reasons. Perhaps even sympathized a little with her plight.   She couldn't have been more wrong!  What she had mistaken for gentle firmness,  was in fact his final word on the subject.

The car glided to a halt and with a turn of the key, the engine ceased it's rumbling.  Rick pushed his door open so fiercely,  it almost swung back onto his knees.  She sat soberly and watched him walk around the front of the car to her door.  Their eyes met briefly and Evelyn took the opportunity to sneak in a tender, apologetic glance, but to little avail.  Rick grunted and with an irritated sigh he firmly grabbed the door handle and opened it wide enough for her to exit the vehicle.  She struggled a little with the awkwardness of the angle, prompting the automatic response from him to take her hand and guide her carefully over the curve.  She smiled her thanks, but Rick's expression didn't offer any hint of him relinquishing his ire.

"I see the Legion's back in town."  Evelyn commented on noticing the familiar uniform worn by two young men on the opposite side the street.

O'Connell looked, but merely grunted.

Annoyed, Evelyn pushed the car door shut with a bang, "Is this to be the extent of your conversation for the remainder of the day?"

"Just go inside, Evelyn!"


***


Jonathan met the angry couple at the door of their quarters just as a disgruntled child pushed his way between his legs making a bee line for his parents.  Rick scooped the toddler up and pushed the door wider in order to pass his brother-in-law.  The icy mood of the moment settled quickly over Jonathan and he made his excuses to leave, muttering something under his breath to do with the common lack of appreciation offered for the endless times he'd inconvenienced himself at O'Connell's insistance.

Evelyn stood on the threshold and stared about the room in despair, "Am I to be permitted to leave again?  Or do I need to follow orders and stay put until you command otherwise?"

"This isn't a joke, Evelyn!" Rick stood at the window, still carrying his small son, and watched the two Legionnaires across the way.

"It's not a sentence, either!" argued Evelyn, although the desire to sit had become overwhelming and she was losing the inclination to argue with him.  Alex began to fidget in his father's arms and Evelyn walked over to take him.  For convenience however, she sat on the large window sill to be able to take the full weight of the child in her lap.  Furthermore, it delayed her husband's recognition of just how exhausted she was.  Rick quietly stepped away from the window and poured two drinks.  A whiskey for himself and a tall glass of water for his wife.  He placed the glass beside her and walked away, sipping gratefully from his own nectar.

Evelyn let out a short gasp and Rick spun around to see her holding her hand to her lips as she stared down onto the street.   "What's wrong?"  He was still considerably angry with her, but when he spoke now his voice adopted an element of concern.

"Down there."  She pointed to the street, in particular to one of the Legionnaires who was haggling with a merchant.

Rick stood by her side and shook his head, "What?"

"That's him!  The taller one!"  She looked up at her husband, who was still none the wiser for what she was talking about. Evelyn placed the boy onto the floor and quickly rose from the ledge for fear she might be seen.  "That's him, Rick!  The one who came here while you were in Syria!"

O'Connell leaned into the window and studied the man carefully.   His eyes squinted in an attempt to get a better view of him, "I don't know him."  He looked back at his wife, "You sure it's him?"

"Yes, I'm sure!"  Evelyn was agitated and wringing her hands.  That was enough to convince Rick.  He tilted his head to swig the remainder of his whiskey and put his glass down.