by Toombs, Jane
Faint shouts came from behind them, and Adrien urged their horse on faster. Looking back, Romell saw lights bobbing. She clung to Adrien as they clattered into the streets of Amoy, racing for the wharf.
When the dark bulks of warehouses loomed ahead, Adrien slowed, letting the horse pick its way between bales until they saw the moon glinting on water.
Dismounting, Adrien helped her off the horse. Romell stood holding the reins while Adrien stooped to untie the rope of a rowboat.
A man rushed out of the shadows, shouting in Chinese. Moonlight caught the sheen of his knife blade.
Instantly, Adrien brandished the sword, Even in the dim light, the gems on the hilt gleamed. The Chinese halted. Adrien pointed emphatically to the boat, then to the horse.
"Fan-qui," the Chinese muttered, retreating.
Romell threw the reins toward the man and ran to Adrien.
"Get into the boat," Adrien told her, and she clambered in. Adrien cast off and began to row furiously.
"We'll have to pick the nearest junk," he said. "That sailor will have the whole rat pack after us.
Soon Romell heard men calling to one another and then the splash of oars from the direction of the docks. Adrien pulled harder. Just as the half-moon vanished behind a cloud, the prow of the row boat bumped into a dark mass that loomed up before them.
"Have to hope no one's aboard," Adrien muttered.
He tossed up a line, then again and yet again until the rope caught. He swarmed up the rope, then told Romell to tie it about herself and hauled her aboard.
She tumbled onto the deck, but was up in an instant, looking about. She saw a dark figure appear behind Adrien and cried out. Adrien turned toward her, then gave a strangled shout and fell forward as the man jumped him. She heard Adrian's sword clatter to the deck and lunged for it, scrabbling desperately, hearing Adrien struggling with his unknown assailant and the increasingly louder shouts of their pursuers.
Chapter 30
Romell heard grunts and the thud of blows as she crawled about the deck searching for the sword Adrien had dropped. Finally, her fingers touched the curved blade, but before she could get to her feet, there was a shout, instantly choked-off, followed by a loud splash as something went over the side into the water ... or someone!
She started to call Adrien's name, then put her fingers over her mouth. If only she could see!
"Romell?"
"Oh, thank God! Adrien!" she cried, rising and groping toward the sound of his voice.
"We'd best make certain he was the only man aboard," Adrien warned.
She pressed the sword into his hand and, clutching his sleeve, followed him. Inside the tiny bamboo cabin, the stub of a candle guttered in its shielded holder. Adrien found a fresh taper and lit it, pressing it into the soft wax of the spent candle. Picking up the holder, he reconnoitered the junk. They found no one else aboard.
"Time to weigh anchor and be off before the others get out to us." Adrien eyed Romell. "I must depend on your help. Do as I tell you."
“Give me a moment," she said. "And the dagger."
Romell cut off her robe below the knee with the kris and hacked off each sleeve above the elbow.
"There. Now I'm ready for orders, Captain."
In the next half hour, Romell raced from one task to the next, never quite sure if she was doing exactly what she should, while Adrien busied himself here, there, and everywhere. In the end, they found themselves out of the harbor, heading into the China Sea.
"You can rest a bit," Adrien told her. "We're all right for the moment. I don't know what we'd have done if the moon hadn't come out again." Hand on the tiller, he stared up at the half circle, then frowned. "Still plenty of clouds."
Romell looked at the sky, then back at the port of Amoy, where tiny lights bobbed in the dark. Were the lights closer?
"Adrien," she said, "I think they're coming after us."
He whirled around. After a moment, he nodded. "Douse the lanterns," he ordered. "We'll be harder to find." He glanced upward again. "Those clouds may be just what we need. They'll be blind without the moon."
As Romell blew out the lantern candles, she tried to put away her fear that this ship was too tiny to brave the ocean waves. Their junk was built exactly like the one that had brought her to China, but was much smaller. Still, she was with Adrien, and he knew what he was doing. She smiled. With Adrien--what lovely, lovely words. Spray blew into her face as the junk sped along on the dark water, seeming to follow the trail of pale moonlight. They'll never catch us, Romell told herself, laughing aloud in exultation. We've escaped! We're safe!
As she gazed at the moonlight on the water, it was blotted out. Darkness shrouded the sea and ship except for the single candle in the shielded holder at Adrien's feet.
"Don't worry," Adrien said. "I think we're past the shallows and the compass will keep me on course."
"Compass?" she asked.
"A thin iron fish floating in water, sealed under glass. The fish's head points south. Chi, the pirate captain of the junk that brought me to Amoy, showed me how to use the instrument."
"Oh, Adrien," she said. "You're so brave— masquerading as a pirate, sailing to China. I thought I might have to live and die in China. Instead, you came to rescue me." She stood next to him, barely able to see his face in the tiny light.
His left arm reached out and drew her closer, and she leaned her head against him.
"I'll never let you go again," he vowed.
Romell shifted her position to cling to him, the deck rolling and pitching underfoot so badly she had trouble keeping her balance. He bent to kiss her, but as their lips met, the junk shuddered. Adrien raised his head, his grip slackening. Romell became aware that the spume blowing over the side was stinging her face.
Spume? Or was it rain?
Adrien dropped his arm from her waist. "We've got to reef the sails and quickly," he said, raising his voice above the whine of the wind.
After he'd tied a rope about her waist for safety, Romell hurried to do his bidding, thankful that she had watched Ying's men at work aboard the other junk. She did the best she could with the sails, then made her way back to Adrien, taking up the slack of the rope, bending double against the wind.
"It's a typhoon, isn't it?" she shouted.
"Yes."
The wind built to a crescendo, the junk staggering under its force, until Adrien could no longer control the tiller. Rain mixed with spume stung their exposed skin. Adrien urged Romell to her knees and, roped together, they crawled across the heaving deck to the tiny cabin.
Once inside its shelter, they were protected from the lash of the wind-driven rain. Romell pushed wet hair from her face and shivered in her soaked robe.
"There's an extra shirt in here. I saw it when I found the candles," Adrien said, and she turned toward the sound of his voice, unable to see him in the complete darkness. The junk tilted, throwing her onto her side.
"Damn!" Adrien exclaimed. A moment later, she felt his hand touch her, then he thrust dry cloth into her hands. "Put it on," he told her.
Romell slipped out of her robe and pulled the cotton shirt over her head. It came to mid-thigh, and she huddled gratefully into it.
"What about you?" she asked Adrien.
"I'm wearing the bunk cover," he said. They staggered into one another as the ship rolled steeply.
Adrien caught her and they sprawled onto the floor. Waves pounded against the hull and the timbers creaked and groaned in protest. The wind howled, and Romell heard an ominous splintering of wood. She clung to Adrien thinking that this was the end, that the little ship could never withstand the storm's fury.
"At least we're together," she said aloud, then realized her words were drowned by the typhoon.
"There's nothing I can do," Adrien told her, speaking into her ear. "We're at the mercy of the storm."
"We'll come through!" she cried fiercely, suddenly unable to accept facing death when she wanted so desperately to live—
to live with Adrien.
"The ship can survive the storm," Adrien agreed. "These junks are fashioned to withstand typhoons. But we may fetch up on a reef at any moment. No ship can survive a battering on the rocks."
She buried her face in his neck.
His arms came around her and he raised her face to his. When their lips met, the world was erased for Romell. There was no storm, no boat, no danger. Nothing existed but Adrien, his mouth, his hands, his body pressing against hers.
"Adrien," she murmured. "Adrien."
His fingers touched the bare skin of her thigh where the cotton shirt had ridden up. Flame shot through her. She pushed away the coarse cloth that covered Adrien and stroked his skin, running his fingers over his back, down his arm, across his stomach. He lifted her shirt higher until he touched her breasts.
Romell pulled away from him to yank the shirt over her head. If we must die, she told herself, at least I'll have known Adrien again. Then she was back in his arms and could think no more. All was feeling.
Her breasts against Adrien, his mouth on hers, tongues touching in intimacy. Then the tremor within her as his lips traveled along her flesh until he traced her nipples with his tongue, the feel of his hot hardness along her groin.
Romell ran her hand over Adrien's back, along the curve of his hip and down, to touch the velvety softness that topped his manhood.
"Romell," he breathed into her ear. His hands caressed her thighs, probed gently between them, and she gasped with pleasure. Then he was above her and she arched upward, wanting him, understanding fully at last what it was to want the man you love.
He entered her, holding her tightly, not moving. She could feel him inside, not only where he touched her but with every part of her. She pushed against him and he began moving gently, each thrust a fresh excitement.
"Adrien," she moaned.
"I love you," he gasped, thrusting harder and faster. "I love you."
"Love," she murmured. "Love. . . ."
Warmth built in her, flowing out along her legs, up into her breasts. She wanted him to go on forever, to never stop—she and Adrien together. The warmth turned to fire, blazing until she screamed out and clutched him as spasms shook her, going on and on until she thought she'd die from the pleasure.
At last she felt him shudder, heard him cry out, and she suddenly understood that he must feel what she did. Tears stung her eyes as she clung to him until he lay spent above her. Only then did she hear the noise of the storm again—and the terrible grating noise from somewhere under the ship.
"Adrien, oh, Adrien!" she cried. "We've waited too long."
With a grinding jar, the small junk shuddered and yawed markedly, not recovering. Romell gasped, expecting at any second to feel the waters of the China Sea close over her head, but though the ship canted forty-five degrees to port, it remained afloat. Romell and Adrien slammed up against the bamboo wall of the cabin.
"We’re aground," he said.
She became aware that the timbers of the junk were creaking loud enough to be heard above the shriek of the storm—an alarming noise. The ship trembled and made no headway.
Adrien helped her into a more comfortable position next to him, feet against the wall, bodies slanted upward along the deck.
"We can do nothing now but pray," he said into her ear.
She took his hand and they lay side by side. She listened to the protesting ship, to the murderous drive of the storm, and anger began to build in her. They had come so far to find one another again. She had overcome danger and degradation while Adrien had braved perils of his own for her sake. What lay ahead for them now but death as the junk broke apart on the reef and cast them into the sea?
"No!" Romell wasn't aware that she'd shouted her protest aloud until Adrien spoke:
"What did you say?"
She turned to him, nuzzling her face into his neck. "We shan't die!" she told him, her pulse racing with rage.
Adrien answered by pulling her closer and kissing her. As his hands caressed her bare skin, her fury changed to wild excitement. She reached out for him, touching him everywhere in a frenzy of desire. In their unheeding passion, they rolled in a tangle against the cabin wall. Romell found herself above Adrien and laughed in exhilaration, everything forgotten but the, feel of his flesh against hers, the breathless urgency to meld with him, to become part of him.
She guided him into her and was swept out of herself to ride violent crests of passion. There was nothing tender about this lovemaking as they rolled and pitched in their own storm of feeling.
When at last they lay spent, Romell gradually realized that she could see the outline of Adrien's face. The wind moaned evilly about the cabin, but in the light of early dawn, the sound was less threatening. Adrien stirred and began to untangle himself from her.
"I think the storm's blown out," he said. "I'll see where we've gotten to."
Romell turned over to watch him crawl up the slanted deck to the cabin door. Would he look out on a gray and confused sea, with the junk caught fast on one of the thousands of reefs lying in wait to destroy any ship venturing into these waters? He reached the door, pulled himself through and disappeared from sight.
"Romell!"
Hurriedly she donned the shirt and scrambled up to the door and peered out. Adrien stood holding the rail on the high side of the junk. She climbed to his side, clutching the rail. When she could see over the side, she cried out, "Oh, Adrien!"
Though dirty clouds roiled overhead and a fine mist wet her face, breakers rolled in white rows onto a sandy shore so close she could see the coconuts in the palms.
She smiled at Adrien and he grinned back. "Where are we?" she asked. "What land can this be?"
"Who knows?" Adrien answered. "The typhoon could have driven us anywhere. We'll go ashore as soon as the sea calms."
Romell, close beside him, sensed the tenseness of his muscles and looked from the palm trees to Adrien's face.
"You believe we've traded a wrecked ship for something equally dangerous, I can tell. What difference does it make if we're years waiting for rescue. There'll be coconuts and fish and--" Her voice trailed off as she remembered there would likely be natives, too.
He turned to look at her. "We've no way of knowing what kind of people live here, whether they're peaceful traders or cannibal headhunters. About all I am certain of is that it's an island."
As Romell scanned the island with a look of desperation, the sun broke through the thinning clouds and bending palms beckoned in the fresh breeze. Beneath her, the junk's slanted deck lurched under the pounding of the waves breaking over the coral reef. Wood splintered menacingly. Romell clung tightly to the rail.
"We'll have to leave the junk at once," Adrien warned. "She's breaking up."
He bound the Chinese sword with silk from her discarded robe and, using her belt, tied the sword to his waist. The kris he strapped to his bare chest. Clad only in sailor's pants, he wrenched a smashed plank free from the deck and, after following it over the side, raised his arms to Romell.
"Watch out for the coral, it's sharp," he cautioned.
With each of them grasping the plank with one arm, they half-floated, half-swam toward the shore. Soon Romell felt sand underfoot, and they stood and waded through the surf onto the beach.
"Look!" she cried, pointing beneath the palms. "Boats."
"Outriggers," Adrien said.
They scanned the beach to either side of them, shading their eyes against the glitter of the sun off the sea.
"They're coming," Adrien said, jerking his head to the right.
He unwrapped the sword and hefted it, then handed Romell the kris. Holding the dagger in her hand, she watched the tiny dark figures move toward them along the sand and waited, with a stab of panic, for the eerie wail of the Southland: "Cooo-ee!"
Chapter 31
The natives came toward Romell and Adrien without any cry, without any sound at all. Adrien pulled her to his side. This isn't Southland, Romell
told herself, yet the silent approach of these people was as frightening as anything that had happened to her there. Closer and closer they came, until Romell could see that the two dark and nearly naked men in the lead were armed with spears.
Adrien stiffened and Romell gripped the hilt of the kris tensely. One of the group running toward them shouted then:
"Holandes! Holandes!"
The two men with spears halted abruptly. A man behind them hurried forward, and Romell blinked disbelievingly at the sight of breeches and a shirt. Beside her, she heard Adrien sigh.
"Ingles!" he called back. "Ingles!" He lowered the tip of his sword until it touched the ground. Two more men dressed in shirts and breeches—white men—stepped around the spear carriers and approached Adrien. All three of the men stopped a few yards away. Adrien spoke to them in a language Romell didn't understand. She stood her ground firmly, staring over their heads, though perfectly aware how they gaped at her, dressed as she was, the shirt plastered wetly to her body and her legs exposed to mid-thigh.
"Esposa," Adrien said with great firmness. "Mi esposa." He put his arm about her.
The three white men bowed, and the one in the middle replied to Adrien at some length. When he finished, Adrien nodded, then urged Romell forward as the men turned to go back the way they had come.
Romell and Adrien walked along the beach, escorted by the natives and the three white men. Although Adrien carried his sword casually, she could still feel the tension in his body. What had the man told him? She could ask Adrien, of course, but she felt disinclined to draw any more attention to herself.
They came around a point of land, and Romell drew in her breath. Drawn up on the sand of a narrow bay, a ship lay on its side.
"Oh," she said. "They were wrecked too."
"No." Adrien's response was terse. "That's a Spanish merchantman careened for scraping and repairs."
Spanish! Were they, then, in the Philippines?
As they neared the ship, Romell noticed a tent fashioned from canvas. As she watched, a woman came around the tent, shading her eyes and peering at them.
