Chapter 15
North Sea Firth
They left the keep at dawn and rode northeast
along the southern shore of Silver Water Loch, Laird Owen and Niels
in the lead, Alina on Etain and Roark on Beasty behind them, and
one of the laird’s men named Liam driving a wagon laden with
barrels of whisky, batts of wool, and crates of cherries behind
them. Grant and a fourth man named Duncan were riding rear guard.
Alina, traveling as Al, wore the linen tunic and breeches Brianna
had given her, along with the otter cloak. Her hair was braided and
tucked tight under a woolen cap.
Roark too wore a woolen cap over his auburn
waves and a scarf around his neck, which could be pulled up over
his nose to hide his freckled face. But there was no hiding his
eyes, which Alina sought and held every chance she got.
The past three days and nights had been
bittersweet. They’d enjoyed a close contentedness, petting and
kissing, walking and talking, eating and sleeping together, doing
everything but. They’d even taken baths together, giving
Alina a new appreciation for why her parents enjoyed bathing
together so much.
Saying her good-byes to Lady Siusan, Agnes,
Cullen, and Rose, who’d given up chasing Roark after the night
Alina sang “Somebody,” had been gut-wrenching. They’d all been so
welcoming and gracious, and had accepted her. She would never be
able to repay their kindness, though she intended to do her best.
Which was why the wagon carried two barrels of whisky bound for Sea
Ridge. She’d meant what she’d told Owen about her father being
interested in trading for the spirits, and looked forward to
opening a trade line between them.
They left the shores of Silver Water Loch by
midmorning, and by midday made the Long Loch, which looked more
like an inland sea than a lake. Long, wide, and deep, the loch ran
ten leagues south to north, where it joined the mouth of the North
Sea Firth, Owen explained. He also told them of a giant sea
creature as big as a small ship living in the loch’s depths that
could sometimes be seen breaching the shallows, its shiny,
grey-black body undulating in the wind-blown waters.
“Could it be whales?” Alina asked him.
“Nay, lassie.” Owen shook his head as Niels
rolled his eyes behind his laird’s back, causing Alina to stifle a
laugh. “It’s never been seen coming up for air or blowing like a
whale.”
“Have you ever seen it?”
“I’ve not,” he admitted. “It’s mostly
fishermen or shepherds who’ve spent their lives on or near the loch
who have.”
“Along with faeries and unicorns,” Niels
added sardonically. “A direct result, I would say, of spending so
much time staring at the water.”
The men all laughed, yet Alina kept an eye on
the loch’s murky waters all the same. Her father, who was not a
fanciful man but had sailed much of the known world, had often told
her there was more and stranger things in it than anyone knew.
By late afternoon, when they’d reached the
loch’s northernmost point where it emptied into the firth, she’d
yet to see anything resembling such a creature, though the search
had helped keep her mind off this being her last ride through the
countryside with Roark.
They arrived in the port town of River’s
Mouth in the late afternoon, where it was decided she and Roark
would share a room with Owen at the inn, while the four men would
share another, taking shifts two by two between resting in the room
and staying with the wagon outside the inn’s stable.
Liam and Duncan took the first shift, while
the others went to their rooms. Almost as soon as she stepped into
theirs, Alina pulled her cap off and let down her hair, scratching
her overheated scalp. Owen left the room to meet with Niels and
Grant downstairs to sup while Alina and Roark hid out in the room.
Owen would bring up their supper later.
The door had barely shut behind Owen when
Alina flew into Roark’s arms and his lips were in her hair.
“I thought he’d never leave,” Roark whispered
huskily. “I’ve been aching all day to hold you and kiss you.”
She nuzzled his neck, breathing him in. “I’ve
been yearning to be held and kissed by you all day.”
He tilted up her chin and grinned. “I love
you, my lady owl. No matter what happens, never forget that. Never
forget me.”
Alina gazed into eyes the color of rain, eyes
that poured love sweet and bitter into hers. “I could never forget
you, sir stag,” she whispered fiercely. “You are the air I breathe,
the heat of my sun, the earth I stand on, the blood in my veins.
Your love has kept me going when it felt like all was lost. It’s
what will keep me going forward from here. What will keep me hoping
and believing we’ll be together again, whether in this world or the
next. For this moment in time, your love is all that matters to me
here in our own little world.”
“A world without consequence or
repercussion.”
She nodded, smiled, and shut her eyes tight
against the welling of hot tears. As soon as Owen walked back into
the room with their supper, their wonderful little world would give
way to the real one. The one where they’d soon be parted. For how
long, neither of them knew.
Roark wrapped his hand around the back of her
head and pressed her forehead to his chest, his lips moving
wordlessly in her hair. They stood there holding each other, chest
to aching chest, heart to breaking heart, until a knock on the door
broke their bittersweet reverie.
***
Alina quickly tucked her hair back up under
her woolen cap and Roark held the door open as Owen walked in,
followed by two maidservants carrying trays laden with bowls of
stew, half a loaf of bread, three cups, and a pitcher of ale. As
soon as the maids left the room, Roark slid the bolt shut, Alina
tossed her cap, and Owen lay down flat on his back on one of the
two beds in the room with a groan.
“Ahhh. A full day in the saddle takes a
greater toll on me than it used to,” he said. He closed his eyes
with a heavy sigh and was snoring lightly before Roark and Alina
had swallowed their second spoonful of mutton stew.
They ate and drank in companionable silence,
the stew under-salted and the ale flat, but it filled their bellies
and revived them after a long day on the road.
When they were finished, Roark set the empty
tray of dishes outside the door and shut and bolted it. He sat down
on the edge of the bed and patted the space beside him. Alina sat
next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his
arm around her and held her close.
“Come with me,” she said.
“You know I can’t.”
“I know you won’t.”
It was the same argument, and it would end
the same way it always had. It wasn't that he didn’t want to go
with her. He did. He wanted to be with her more than anything. But
he needed to settle things between his family and Roger’s
first.
“Ali girl, I—”
A knock at the door had Roark and Alina on
their feet and Owen sitting up quickly enough to prove himself a
light sleeper.
“Who is it?” Owen demanded.
“Niels.”
Owen nodded to Roark, who opened the door to
Niels.
“Your gang of three is downstairs in the
common room,” Niels said to Roark. “They’ve been bragging about how
they’re working for this Laird Roger’s men directly and asking
questions about what we’re doing here.” He glanced over at Owen.
“My first inclination was to tell them to fuck off, pardon my
language, lady. But seeing as how we’re trying to keep our presence
here nice and quiet like, I told them we’re here to load up a trade
ship with our whisky and wool. They pushed, wanting to know whose
whisky and what ship.” He shrugged. “That’s when I told them to
fuck off, pardon my language, lady.”
Roark chuckled, Owen shook his head, and
Alina laughed out loud.
“What was their response to that?” Owen
asked.
Niels grinned and tugged on his beard. “They
sized me up and decided their three against my one wasn’t the odds
they were looking for, so they took themselves back to their table
and commenced to drink and brag about how they’d beat back the ten
men who’d stolen their valuable prisoner.” He winked at Alina.
“Anyway, whilst they were drinking and bragging, I went on over to
the stables and warned Liam and Duncan they’d likely be having
visitors as soon as our friends got drunk enough to be stupid
brave.”
“Think they’ll try to steal anything?” Owen
asked.
“Nah. They’ll likely poke their noses around
and ask the lads questions they’ll get no answers to. Though it
wouldn’t surprise me if they showed up at the docks tomorrow.”
“With or without Roger’s men?”
“As much as they were blabbing about
everything else, the one thing they didn’t say was where Roger’s
men are. ’Course, they may not know. Want me to ask around?”
Owen nodded. “Aye, I do. Tell Grant and the
others they’ll be rotating shifts between the three of them, two on
and one off at a time. I want you rested up for tomorrow.”
As soon as Niels left the room, Owen went to
his pack and pulled out his short sword, stuffed it under his
mattress with the hilt sticking out, shifted his waist belt so the
blade was center of his belly, checked his boot blade, and lay down
on his bed, fully clothed and with his boots still on. Roark did
the same with his short sword and blades, as did Alina. Then they
set their backs against the wall and sat sprawled on their bed
shoulder to shoulder.
“You should get some sleep,” he said,
wrapping his arm around her and tucking her in to him.
“So should you,” she said, leaning her head
on his shoulder.
“We both should,” he agreed.
“But it’s our last night together. For a
time.”
Roark hugged her even closer. “Ahh, Ali
girl,” he said, his voice cracking. “Your optimism is one of the
myriad things I love about you.”
Alina sniffed and nestled her nose into his
neck. “I refuse to believe the fates brought us together only to
lose each other forever.”
“I believe in making our own fate, my lady
owl. If we hadn’t, you’d be sailing for the desert lands and life
as a pleasure woman instead of sailing home to your family, and I’d
be making arrangements to marry Gwyneth rather than going back to
confront my family and hers.”