The Final Storm

15. Into India!

"Land ahoy! Land ahoy!"

Shouts came from up in the crow's nest, announcing the presence of land. However, they were completely unnecessary. With a gloomy face, I stared at the horizon far ahead. From down here on the deck, the land itself might not be visible yet—but the smoke rising from the land most definitely was. I could practically smell the odour of war in the air.

Heavy footsteps approached and, moments later, the bulky figure of Karim appeared beside me at the railing.

"It has begun."

"Isn't this a bit coincidental?" Frowning, I stared at the clouds of smoke above the horizon. "Why would there be troops rebelling just at the spot where we want to make landfall?"

Karim snorted. "I doubt very much that those are troops. Do you think the sepoys are the only ones chafing under the rule of the East India Company? No, their fate was a relatively kind one in comparison to other people. After all, sepoys are the tools used by the company to suppress the entire continent, and they are still treated relatively well. The common people, on the other hand..."

Karim's face darkened, and he didn't finish the sentence. There wasn't really any need to, though.

"So..." I started in a faux-cheerful voice. "How do you think they will receive three friendly visitors from Britain?"

Karim gave me a look. Previously, I had thought my husband was the unchallenged champion of conveying meaning with silent looks, but right then, Karim almost matched him.

"Ehem...so, we're not just going ashore as we are, then."

"Most certainly not," a cool voice came from behind me. "Which makes it rather fortunate that I have made preparations."

Turning around, I saw Mr Ambrose approach with several colourful costumes in hand, as well as...was that a fake beard?

"So..." Lips twitching, I picked up the giant monstrosity of a beard and held it up to Mr Rikkard Ambrose's face. The picture he presented was...interesting. "You're going to wear this?"

"If the alternative is being lynched?" His icy eyes tried to bore holes into the hands that were holding the massive beard to his face. "Indeed."

I snickered, and my smile widened—until I noticed something he was carrying, and said smile froze.

"Mr Ambrose?"

"Yes, Mrs Ambrose?"

"Why are there three beards?"

He cocked his head. "I believe you are familiar with crossdressing. The answer should be rather obvious, should it not?"

I took a step back. "No. Oh no, no, no."

"Yes."

"No. No, I won't."

"Yes. Yes, you definitely will."

"No. No, there's no way! There's no way you can persuade me to do this!"

"Oh," my dear husband told me, "I am not the one who is going to persuade you."

Then he stepped aside, revealing the door to Adaira's cabin, which opened at this very moment.

***

Adaira yawned and muttered a curse. Today was the day of arrival, and she had promised herself to wake up early! But then, she had ended up unable to sleep for most of the night—and now, judging by the light streaming in through the porthole, she had overslept.

Enough time wasted! Let's get going!

Filled with determination, she leapt up from the bed—then suddenly froze.