Another New World (Closed)

"Gentlemen," he said, exasperated at their lack of faith in him, "I've studied the charts! There is another new world, and it's just waiting there, a land of green and gold, for whoever is first to break through the ice."

They were, clearly, still skeptical. The room was filled with great minds, leading thinkers of the age, and he respected their opinions. But he also knew in his gut that he was right. The shifts in winds, the change in currents... all signs pointed to more world to be discovered. An unfortunate incident with privateers near the Strait of Gibraltar had caused him to miss the opportunity to discover the New World, where the British worked even now setting up colonies and making use of the land. He would not miss the opportunity again.

"Charles," a white-haired and heavy-set man, William DeLouse, said with a sweep of his hand over the maps and charts laid out before him, "It's possible, but I just don't believe it's there. And even if it is, what of the ice? How do you plan to get through the ice in one piece?"

Murmurs of agreement fluttered around the room, many of the other dozen or so men nodding and looking expectantly for an answer. At the question, the paces of Charles Wallace ceased, and he turned to the seated men. In his eyes a light shown that was not there moments before.

"All I have, gentlemen, are my guts and my God." He paused, making eye contact with each as his eyes swept from one to the other. "And the Annabelle Lee."

Perhaps, in the shock of his announcement and the debate on it's merit that followed, they had forgotten about his ship. Now, they were thinking of nothing more. She was as fine a vessel as any they'd ever seen. Large and strong, seaworthy beyond measure, but still agile and quick as the wind. Her crew was well-trained, her captain experienced. Some may claim there were better ships on the water, but one fact was under no dispute: None were more beautiful.

The Annabelle Lee was his trump card. Let Columbus have his Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria. All Wallace needed was the Annabelle Lee, and the deal was sealed. He watched them, one after the other, as they made up their minds.

"Okay," DeLouse said after looking from man to man and receiving a nod of agreement, "We'll support your trip. The same cut as always." With that, he stood from his seat and offered his large hand to the Captain, who smiled broadly and clasped it firmly.

"Deal."

The deal with DeLouse and his group was struck just as fall began to make it's way into winter, the gold and yellow dropping away to stark white and frigid temperatures. On land, there were few things Charles Wallace enjoyed more than a comfortable chair in front of a glowing fire, and a fine brandy swirling in his glass. This winter, however, there was precious little time to enjoy such pleasures.

The work of getting a ship and crew ready for a journey like the one Wallace had planned was almost as hard as the trip itself, and it was for this reason that he'd decided to take the full of winter to complete it and set sail at the first sign of spring. At the age of 42, Wallace was a Captain of extraordinary experience and skill, and gathering a crew of well-trained men was little trouble. He was a large man, broad-shouldered with large, calloused hands and shoulders well-muscled from a lifetime of work on the open sea. Though clean-shaven on land, once out to sea he would allow his beard to grow until the end of the trip, when he'd spend fine coin on a skilled barber to shave it off. Distressingly, a beard that was once as dark as the thick hair atop his head was starting to show more and more grey each time he grew it in. Time caught up to even the strongest of men.

As was his job, DeLouse squabbled over the cost of most issues Wallace brought to him throughout the winter, and in a small handful of instances was able to approach a vendor or merchant himself and get the price lowered. Both men knew, though, that in the end Wallace would have access to whatever he needed, and more than a little of what he only wanted. It was in the interest of both men, as well as the rest of the investors in this expedition, that it succeed, and almost to a man they trusted Wallace's judgment on these matters. He was the Captain, they were the money men, and each played the parts they were assigned.

December wore into January, and all too soon the New Year was upon them. Spending some of the coin that had otherwise been designated for the upcoming trip, Wallace rented a fine basement tavern for a night and threw a fine party for his crew, new and veteran alike, and for their women, those that had them. Wallace himself came alone, for he only had one true woman in his life, and she sat in the harbor patiently waiting for him.

Spring.

Winter had thawed away earlier than expected, and Wallace was thankful for it. His preparations were finished even before the early change of seasons, and then it was simply a waiting game. The crown did it's best to keep the harbor clear and open, thickly-hulled boats breaking apart ice floes and doing their best to keep them from gathering against the docks, but they often seemed drawn there as if by magnets, making the battle an often losing one.

Standing now on board the Annabelle Lee, the day was bright and clear, the waters smooth and welcoming. The Captain's heart thrummed in his chest, his body full of a nervous, excited energy. The gold pocket watch spent no more than three full minutes nestled in the small pocket in his vest before it was out again, opened, consulted, and replaced. The wind was blowing fair and true, stretching the sails taught and pulling the ship slowly, surely away from the land.

At the railing, the crew stood waving their hats, final goodbyes to wives and children, mothers and fathers, friends and strangers. Charles Wallace had shaken hands with DeLouse, stepped on board the Annabelle Lee, and not looked back since. Even now, as they cleared the dock, his eyes were steady on the open waters ahead. No hesitation. No regrets. No looking back. He'd see them all again when he returned, triumphant, discoverer of new and plentiful lands. Now, though, he was the only place he wanted to be, with the only love he'd ever truly had, doing what each of them was made to do, with whom each was made to do it with.