When four bells of the forenoon had pealed, Charles led me from the great cabin to the weather deck and to a hatch just forward of the mainmast, outboard the cargo hatch. I had often seen the men use this and the similar one on the port side, but I had not asked where they led. I followed Charles down, descending many more steps than those which lead to the cookery or to bosun's stores. But these were so steep, we had to turn and take them backwards. We arrived in a long, narrow space with huge guns ranged along the seaward side and the ports open to allow light.

At the forward end, two groups of men were gathered, and as we walked toward them, I saw that one group was heaving lines through sets of blocks to move a gun to jut through its port. It was then I realised the other guns were also drawn forward with their barrels thrust out the open ports.

Charles pointed to the canvas bundles hanging on pegs all along the bulkheads. "This is where many of the crew choose to sleep, their hammocks slung from gun barrel to gun barrel. In all but stormy weather, when they are battened shut, the opened ports allow better light and fresher air than in the messes forward, and the pitching into the seas is much diminished here."

I nodded, examining the space and thinking about the lack of privacy. Would have been far more difficult than in my closet. Though, possibly with most of the hands here, the forecastle messes would offer more. I shrugged the thought away, it being meaningless to me now. So very meaningless.

Charles' voice interrupted my thoughts, "Hoy, Gunner. Appears you are near ready."

"Aye, Sir." A man stepped forward from the group. "The experienced ones showed the new hands how to proof the powder, worm, load, tamp and wad the barrels, and to fill the priming quills and prick the charges. The new watched the first five, then they done all the rest. Now they're as good as any aboard." He turned and pointed to the team heaving lines. "We're just presenting the last two to the ports, Sir."

"Excellent! What I wish to have you show next is the importance of timing. Teach them to sense the ship's motion."

"Aye, Sir. My thought was that I will fire the first three to show them the difference, then they can each practice as we move aft, a gun at a time."

"A fine way to proceed, Gunner. Send a hand to inform the Watch Officer that I have ordered firing to commence. Then when he returns, fire when you are ready."

"Aye, Sir. Tell the Watch Officer. Then fire when ready."

As Gunner turned back to the group, Charles directed me aft, past eight or ten guns to one across from the ladder. "We will watch from here. Remember to put your fingers in your ears and open your mouth each time you see the linstock approach a fuse."

"Linstock? What is this?"

"A long stick with a piece of treated cord wrapped around it, the end glowing in a slow burn." He pointed. "There, Gunner is striking a flint to one now."

I watched until it began to smoulder. Then as the final gun carriage was pulled to the bulkhead and its lines secured to huge rings there, I remembered what Father had said about the dangers of a loose cannon. My mind drifted to him.

Charles tapped my shoulder and said, "Ears and mouth."

I plugged and opened just before a massive blast shook the ship, and I felt a blow run through my body. As Charles unplugged his ears, I did the same, and I followed his point out the port and listened through my ringing ears to what he said, "That was fired high, and it would have no effect but to waste powder and a ball."

"So, fired when the ship was rolled to port, then?"

"Yes, exactly. Timing the roll of the ship is essential. Too high and the ball soars over the target. Too low, and it plunges into the sea. There is a small angle which allows the ball to skip across the sea's surface and strike the target at or near its waterline. A bit higher, it flies directly to the hull, and a bit higher still, it tears through the sails and rigging."

We watched the next shot throw up a huge splash of water not a hundred yards away. Then half a minute later, as the third ball threw up a long series of splashes while it skipped across the surface of the ocean, Charles said, "That is the easiest of the effective shots to achieve, and it loses very little speed as it skips."

"And aiming the guns? How is this done? They all appear hauled tight to the bulkhead."

"Aye, that aligns them square to the ship's axis, and the aiming is done by steering. Up top, we have sets of sights, and the helmsman uses them to align the ship square to the target."

"So, timing is important with this, as well."

"Exactly! Fire only when the roll and the yaw are both aligned with the target." He pointed to the guns. "We look along the barrels to see when the aim is true."

After two more guns had been fired, Charles spoke with Gunner, then he led the way up the many steps. Two more shots resounded in the shaft as we climbed, and I was thankful for the diminished sound. On deck, the cracks were still loud, but now not as sharp, and they added less to my headache.

I followed Charles as he continued aft and up the steps to the quarterdeck, and when we arrived, we were greeted by Mister Cogswell, who had the watch. Mid Edwards was leaning far out over the rail, and I surmised it was to see the flash of the next gun.

"We can watch the skipping balls from there," Charles said as he raised an arm and pointed. Then as we arrived at the rail, he swung his arm as if to cast an object. "Have you ever skipped stones across the water?"

I nodded, my throat constricting and my eyes watering. As I wiped the tears, I said in a croaking voice, "In happier times with Chris, Anna, John and Maria." I could not stop the sobs which followed, and through them, I uttered, "And with Father."

I placed a hand on my lower belly as I looked up into Charles' eyes. "Please, pardon. This is my difficult time."

He winced as he laid a gentle hand on my shoulder and said, "You go below now, Boy, and tend to your..." His voice was masked as two more guns cracked in near unison.

I watched the two lines of splashes in an instant make it all the way to the horizon. Then seeing Edwards had turned to stare at me, I tilted my head toward the hatch and said, "Aye, Sir. To my matters below."

Below, I took my sewing and sat by the windows, hemming our new Calicut bedsheets and chewing on a piece of bark to ease the sharpness of my headache and of the one in my belly. The cracks from the guns were now less jarring, and I no longer dreaded the next one.

While I stitched, I pondered Edwards and his strange behaviour. Had he seen my tears? If he had, what were his thoughts? I shrugged. But tears are not unusual for boys not yet of age, and he is close enough to that to still know those times.

Then I remembered Father admonishing Chris and telling him that strong men don't cry. Had Edward's father said the same to him?

But Charles had cried during our first embrace. Does this mean he is not strong?

Are tears of joy and those of relief the same as tears of anguish? I think not.

I looked up from my sewing and my thoughts when I heard Charles descending from the quarterdeck, and as he rushed across the cabin to me, he said, "I am sorry, Camille. It would have been noticeably unusual had I left before the firing had been completed."

He knelt beside my chair and cradled my face with his hands as he kissed my forehead. "I must remember to not stir old memories."

"No, it is fine. The problem is mine; I need to learn how to respond." I tilted my head up so our lips would meet.

When we parted from the kiss, Charles asked, "What is the flavour I taste?"

I pointed to the jar on the chair beside us. "Willow bark steeped in brandy. Ruth told me chewing a piece would ease my headaches and monthly cramps, so I bought three of these."

"Does it work as well as her other counsel?"

I giggled. "It seems to. My aches are becoming less sharp."

"What may I do to comfort?"

"It is wonderfully comforting to know that you are aware and that you care."

Charles nodded as he caressed my cheeks. "Mother forever told me about the care and concern that she craved from a man, wanting me to grow into one who would offer these to a woman."

"Then, you must not ever disappoint her." I tilted my face up for another kiss.