True to his word, we left with the tide that night, sails set toward Oak Isle and her not-so-secret secrets. Unfortunately, Tristan had been right to worry about the wind. As we came up on our two-week mark, we were only a little less than halfway from our destination. Nerves were on edge, everyone wondering just how far Randall had gotten in his work. It didn’t help me to know that he would make it all the way to the bottom before we got there.
“Samantha,” Tristan said one sunny afternoon with hardly any wind. “Have ye practiced yer swordplay lately?”
“No,” I answered, caught off guard. “We’ve been busy doing other things. Like trying not to drown and burn to death on a sinking ship.”
The men around us laughed, razzing Tristan some as he came to stand by me, holding out a sword.
“Ye need to practice every day. Especially if yer wanting to go ashore when we reach Oak Isle.”
“You know I’m going ashore,” I replied, a bit more forcefully than I intended. My overboard incident was still a touchy subject, though I’d forgiven him, finally. He was only trying to protect me, as stupid as I thought it was.
“I know ye are,” he laughed, staring me in the eye. “That’s why I want ye to practice.”
Nodding, I took the blade from him, testing its weight in my hand.
“Adam taught ye some, aye?”
“He did.” A prick of hurt and sadness touched my heart as his face swam before my eyes, smiling, as he so often had.
“Let’s see what ye remember then.” In a flash, he stepped forward, swinging his sword up and holding it beneath my chin. Clicking his tongue, he shook his head and backed away. “Ye’ve got to be faster than that, Sam.”
“Perhaps she has not been attacked suddenly before, Capitán,” Alfonso offered from the sidelines, grinning excitedly. “Look at her! She has such a sweet spirit. She does not expect someone to attack her out of the blue.”
“Thank you, Father,” I called, laughing. “Teach me how to be faster.” Urging Tristan forward, I did my best to keep up with him, happy to find that I remembered a lot of what I’d previously been taught.
“Not bad,” Tristan spoke, beaming at me. “We’ll make a fighter out of ye yet.”
Swept Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book One) Page 62
