Little Wolf - Slow Updates

Chapter I

"Why are we sailing to France," Declan looked over to Fortuna.

Both men were on the upper deck, the sun bright on their faces and the scent of the salty North Sea penetrated their noses. The Captain's face was serious, eyes scanning the coastline of Dunkirk.

"We need men," the man answered. "I can't steer her to the South and stay ahead of the English fleet without help."

Fortuna pointed at the second mast from his ship. "That sail is torn. I can't make speed with only the other two."

Declan's eyes scanned the sail before his gaze travelled back to Dunkirk. He didn't like the fact they had to stop. Lord Fisker wasn't far behind them although they hadn't seen the fleet carrying the English flag behind them, Declan knew they were there somewhere.

He rubbed his hands through his hair, but nodded. It wouldn't be a bad thing to stop and find some more men first. Provisions. Clothes. Lord Fisker and his generals wouldn't anticipate Declan making a stop in France.

"Fine," he replied after a while. "We'll make a stop and get what we need."

Fortuna his hand patted Declan's shoulder and the man smiled. "Good. We need a route to the South. The South is big, friend. We need to know where we're going."

Declan shrugged. "I don't know where my son's being held," he admitted.

"Cuba," the voice of Elizabeth pierced the air and both men turned around to face her.

Face still pale, but at least there was forming a blush on her cheeks again after she took some rest. Declan walked over her, pressed a kiss on her head before he gazed down at her.

Liz read his mind and nodded towards the door that led them below deck.

"She's sleeping," she answered the question he didn't ask. "Kate's with her."

"Cuba," Fortuna said. "That's a long way, my friends."

"That's where the fields are. We'll have the most chance of finding him there."

Her voice carried the stubbornness and made Declan's lip curl up in a faint smile.

"Cuba it is," he said and turned to face the coastline of France again. "How good is your French, Fortuna?"

The captain laughed while he made his way towards the steering wheel.

"Oy, as long as those Frenchies understand the word Whiskey," McTaggart intervened, appearing from below deck.

"McTaggart! Get the ropes unknotted," Fortuna's voice boomed over the ship and the Scotsman grumbled, but obeyed.

Declan locked eyes with Liz before he pulled her a bit closer to him.

"How are you feeling?"

She shrugged silently before her gaze found Dunkirk in the distance. "I'm fine," she replied with a faint grin, "The dizziness stopped. The pain is bearable."

Declan lifted a brow while he scanned her frame. He had seen how she walked up to the deck, still stiff in her movements and the way her features sometimes showed a flash of discomfort made him think the pain of birth was still costing its toll on her body.

"You should rest," he said, voice firm while his hand caressed her back, "I will wake you when we're ported in Dunkirk."

Her gaze travelled up to meet his and to Harp's surprise, Elizabeth nodded.

"I will," she said, before he felt her soft lips on his cheek. "But, not before you tell me where Charlie is."

'Shit' - he thought. Declan had tried to push the subject of Charlie away until Liz felt better.