Chula’s booming voice and the pounding on the door brought Camilla out of bed as if it was on fire. The first light of dawn barely seeped through the drapes, and she shook her head to clear the last traces of sleep, wondering if the noise had been a dream. “Miss Camilla, wake up! Dere’s a bloody big ship right outside de reef, an’ two more besides! Dey be warships!” “Warships?” She snatched up a robe and pulled it on, then flung open the door to see the big man standing there, fully armed, with concern etching his features. “What? A warship is where?” “Come see, Miss Camilla!” He pushed past her and thrust aside the curtains to her balcony. “You can see de bloody great t’ing from here!” He waved an arm at the towering mangroves guarding the western side of Scimitar Bay, and over their tops Camilla could see the fluttering pennant and white skysails of a ship. “Bloody big ship! An’ two more, not so big. De smaller ones’re anchorin’ right at de seaward end of de channel, but dat big ‘un’s jus’ hove-to, ‘bout half a mile off, like it be waitin’ fer somet’in’.”
