Chapter 17: Ambush (2)

“An ambush? By who?”

“I don’t know. There’s no time. Hurry.”

Urged by Mary Read, Claire stepped into the corridor. The interior of the ship was eerily silent, contrasting with the sudden commotion. Claire looked down at the floor and frowned. Droplets of blood trailed a path toward Elpian’s cabin.

“With this much blood loss, he’s likely already…”

He trailed off. If Elpian hadn’t been attacked on the ship but had bled like this all the way from the harbor, there was little chance of survival.

“I don’t think it’s all the Admiral’s blood.”

“What?”

“Anyway, let’s just go, Claire.”

Mary Read pulled his arm again. Giltre, following behind, gave him a push, and before Claire could catch his bearings, he was swept into Elpian’s room.

“I’ve brought the doctor.”

Three or four men standing around the bed turned toward them simultaneously. Two were unfamiliar faces, but one was all too recognizable.

Miguel, his eyes bloodshot from crying, glared at Claire and shouted, “Unbelievable! How can you leave the Admiral to him? I won’t allow it!”

Flustered and emotional, Miguel didn’t just stop at words; he stepped forward and tried to shove Claire out. Dazed as he was, the action sparked Claire’s temper.

“I never asked to be put in charge! If you want me to leave, I’ll gladly walk out.”

“Miguel, back off. You’re not a doctor; what do you plan to do? Let the Admiral die?”

“I’d rather kidnap another doctor from the shore than trust this quack!”

“You idiot! You think a random man we snatch from land is more trustworthy? Shut up and move!”

Mary Read shouted back on Claire’s behalf. Giltre stepped between the two bickering pirates.

“We don’t have time for this. More importantly, Miguel, did you see the attacker?”

“No. I was monitoring the ship from the crow’s nest!”

Giltre turned his questioning gaze to the other men. One of them answered.

“We don’t know either. We were drinking in the hall of the ‘Three Cogs’ inn when the Admiral suddenly stumbled in, covered in blood.”

“Was he alone? Did he say anything?”

“He was alone. He only managed to say, ‘Back to the ship, quickly…’ before losing consciousness. He looked to be in critical condition, so we brought him back immediately without asking questions.”

Giltre listened and then lightly pushed Miguel aside with a grim expression.

“It’s too dangerous to entrust him to a local doctor when we don’t know who the attacker was. Besides, there’s no guarantee the Admiral would last that long. For now, we have no choice but to trust Claire.”

“But—!”

“That’s enough. Do you want him to die? A doctor from Oxford doesn’t just let people die. Where in this tiny corner of a harbor are you going to find a physician of this caliber? We’re the ones who should be begging him to save the Admiral.”

Miguel bit his lip and retreated. Once the atmosphere settled, two burly men standing near the bed spoke to Giltre.

“This harbor might not be safe for long. It’s better to set sail immediately.”

“Since the Admiral is in that state, you should make the call, Navigator.”

Giltre pondered for a moment before nodding.

“Robert, head to the harbor now and gather the rest of the crew. Attackers might still be lurking, so everyone take your muskets. We sail the moment boarding is complete. Gregory, have the gunners provide cover from the deck. Load the cannons.”

At the clear orders, the two men sprinted out of the cabin. Giltre’s deep gaze turned to Claire.

“Claire, I’m trusting you.”

His gray eyes held a complex light that a single sentence couldn’t fully express. He patted Claire’s shoulder and left the room.

Claire frowned as he looked at the reclining Elpian. From his black hair and pale skin down to the hem of his clothes, the man was stained red, as if he had been born from a pool of blood.

Mary Read clung to Claire, who was standing frozen. “Claire? Save the Admiral, please. I beg you.”

Tears welled in the eyes of the usually stouthearted Mary. Claire slowly pried her hand from his sleeve and spoke quietly.

“I’ll do what I can.”

At the vague answer, Mary Read looked even more ready to cry. Claire walked toward the bed. Miguel glared at him with murderous intent as he approached.

Ignoring him, Claire looked down at Elpian’s face, which was as lifeless as a wax mask, and muttered, “You probably got into this mess doing something wicked again. Serves you right.”

The words were barely out before Mary Read let out a short scream. Miguel had leveled his pistol at Claire’s head.

“Don’t even dream of anything suspicious. I’ll be watching your every move. If you let the Admiral die, you’re finished.”

The silver-etched muzzle was barely ten centimeters from his head, yet not a single ripple of fear appeared in Claire’s eyes.

“Just shoot.”

At Claire’s calm response, the muscles in Miguel’s face twitched. Mary Read let out an even louder cry of distress, but Claire continued unfazed.

“You seem to be mistaken about something. I am a top-tier physician. I do not perform surgery while being treated like this. If you won’t move that, pull the trigger now.”

Miguel’s flustered face was reflected in Claire’s blue eyes. His hand trembled for a moment before he eventually bit his lip and lowered the gun.

“Go and fetch some clean water.”

Miguel spat out a quiet curse at Claire’s command but obediently left the room. Claire then turned to Mary Read.

“Mary Read. Go to my room and bring my black leather bag.”

Instead of running off immediately, she hesitated. She, too, was worried about leaving Claire and Elpian alone.

“I trust you, Claire.”

She struggled with herself for a moment before speaking in a pleading voice and exiting.

“…Those words are the very proof of your distrust,” Claire muttered under his breath.

He pulled a dagger from his vest. Holding it aloft, his shadow fell over Elpian’s face.

Those usually cold eyes were hidden beneath lids draped with long lashes. Elpian’s beautiful face looked pale and devoid of life. Without the cynical smirk or the murderous aura, he looked like a completely different person.

Claire couldn’t move easily. He was still wavering, unable to decide what to do with this man.

‘What would happen if I just let him die? Would I be dragged away, torn limb from limb, and hung from the mast?’

It would be a lie to say he didn’t fear death, but he had no particular lingering attachment to life.

Through the gaps in the torn clothing, he saw a firm chest. The man’s heart was right before his eyes. With just a little effort, he could send this demon to hell. Elpian’s life or death rested entirely in Claire’s hands.

Claire gripped the hilt of the dagger Elpian had given him and drew it. The metallic ring was faint, yet it sounded like thunder in Claire’s ears. His heart rate quickened at the temptation before him.

“Sigh…”

After standing frozen in conflict for a long moment, Claire let out a heavy sigh. He swallowed hard and whispered softly.

“This isn’t the kind of revenge I wanted.”

Claire’s blade moved toward Elpian’s body. Instead of carving into white flesh, it sliced away the blood-soaked fabric of his shirt. Claire continued to mutter as if convincing himself.

“Do you think I’d let you die so peacefully, unconscious in bed?”

This wicked man needed to have his eyes wide open, feeling regret for his deeds down to his very bones, before he died. Claire didn’t want to settle his own score by piggybacking on an assassination attempt by some unknown party.

Once the clothes were stripped away, the exposed torso revealed numerous bruises and minor cuts. The most serious injury appeared to be a gunshot wound to the right flank.

It seemed he had been shot from a very close range, as there were scorch marks on the surrounding fabric. Fortunately, the bullet was still lodged inside, meaning the internal bleeding wasn’t as catastrophic as it could have been. The blood covering his body likely belonged to someone else. It was easy to imagine what had happened to his attackers.

As he finished baring the torso, the door swung open with a heavy thud. Miguel had returned with the bucket of water.

Claire wiped the area around the wound with a clean cloth to clear his field of vision, then picked up his blade again. As he probed the flank, a gasp echoed in the room.

“Claire!”

“I’m extracting the bullet. Don’t make a fuss and stay still,” Claire said sharply to Mary Read, who had returned and raised her voice.

The bullet was lodged in the muscle and hadn’t penetrated the internal organs. His pulse was somewhat weak, but thanks to the pressure on the wound, the blood loss wasn’t as severe as it appeared. Still, with so much time having passed, he wasn’t out of danger yet.

As Claire pulled the bullet out and set it on the floor, Mary Read stood behind him, hand over her mouth. The moment Claire began cleaning the bloodied blade with a wet towel, he flinched at a sudden wave of heat.

“What are you doing?”

Right behind him, Miguel was holding a red-hot cauterizing iron. He looked down at Claire as if the answer were obvious.

“Do you intend to brand your Admiral’s body? Get that away this instant!”

Miguel, who had been wearing a smug, arrogant expression, scowled at Claire’s rebuke. As Claire pulled treatment tools from his medical bag, he grumbled fiercely on purpose.

“Sealing a gunshot wound with a branding iron is something only barbarians like you would do.”

Perhaps due to the pent-up resentment he felt, Claire found it satisfying to see Miguel retreat, trembling with rage. Claire disinfected the wound, applied medicine, and then began suturing Elpian’s injuries one by one with cotton thread.

Regardless of the patient, doing the work he took pride in for the first time in a long while made him feel alive. To avoid ruining that feeling, Claire consciously avoided looking at Elpian’s face as he finished the treatment.

“It’s done.”

As Claire stood up, Mary Read approached with a wet towel.

“Will the Admiral live?”

“If he dies, it’s because his own will to live failed. My treatment was perfect.”

“When will he wake up?”

“I can’t say.”

Answering coldly, Claire looked down at Elpian once more. Wrapped in clean white cloth, Elpian’s body was now free of blood and looked orderly.

Though he gave Mary Read a vague answer, Claire had a strange certainty that he wouldn’t die.

‘I don’t know if I’ll regret saving him or not.’

As he muttered bitterly to himself, Claire suddenly became aware of the noise outside. He hadn’t noticed while focusing, but the ship had become quite loud. Shouting, the sound of cargo being moved, and curses drifted through the air. Soon, the rattling of the anchor chains vibrated through the hull.

In the end, he was leaving for the sea again without ever having set foot on land. Letting out a long sigh, Claire looked down one last time at Elpian’s face—which held a peace that didn’t suit him at all—and slowly walked out of the room.

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