by Jody Hedlund
He was trying to reassure me, but my body tensed with increasing anxiety.
“He’s an intelligent man.” Irontooth lowered the paddle back into the water, steering the boat so the stern faced the open sea. “And he’ll find a way to escape.”
Felicity squeezed my shoulder. “He saved our lives. And if he ends up in danger because of it, we’ll find a way to help him in return.”
I nodded. Of course we would. But even as the words formed on the tip of my tongue, emotion flooded me so strongly I wanted to weep. I couldn’t abide the thought of leaving Mikkel behind at the mercy of the Inquisitor. It was the same feeling I’d had when I left Ruby, but this was worse.
Shouts and the pounding of footsteps sounded from the wharf as two figures emerged from the darkness. At a distance of at least a hundred feet from the shore, I couldn’t see their faces, but I recognized Mikkel’s broad shoulders and muscular frame.
“Stop!” I called to the rowers, relief pouring over me. “’Tis them. Go back.”
In the same instant, more shouting and the clanking of armor rose into the night air, telling me it was much too perilous to return, that we needed to continue with all haste.
As if recognizing the same urgency, Mikkel dove into the water. Gregor leaped in after him.
Although Irontooth and the others hadn’t made an effort to return to the shore, at least they’d stopped rowing. Now the boat bobbed against the gentle waves, and we stared at the sea, waiting for Mikkel and Gregor to appear.
Lantern light flooded the wharf, revealing half a dozen soldiers and the Inquisitor, who was wheezing for breath.
At the grasp of a hand against the stern followed by Mikkel hoisting himself up, I released my pent-up breath and scrambled for him, grabbing his arms and assisting him over the edge. Once securely inside, he reached back for Gregor. Together we hauled him into the boat.
“Go!” Mikkel’s breathing was labored. “We have no time to waste.”
Irontooth, Toad, and Humphrey had already begun rowing again, and Gregor immediately joined them. From the shore, the shouting continued. The Inquisitor and his men had commandeered two vessels and were already inside and pushing away from the wharf.
They were following us? I’d thought once we were on the open sea, our primary worry would be evading Loch Ness. But perhaps that wouldn’t be our greatest challenge on this crossing.
“You’ll need to watch the sea for the creature,” Mikkel instructed me as he took the position on the opposite side of the boat, already scanning the water. The darkness obscured his features, but his commanding presence calmed my fears. Mikkel wouldn’t let anything happen to us.
I turned my attention to the sea too. But I prayed that since it was early in the night, the creature was not yet prowling about the Channel.
The torchlight from the Inquisitor’s boats flickered behind us. Every time I glanced toward them, the flames were closer. With six or more men rowing each boat, they could go faster. As if realizing the same, Mikkel grabbed an oar and began to row, still attempting to stay on the lookout for Loch Ness. I did the same, knowing we had to remain well ahead of our pursuers.
As we neared the middle, my arms burned with the effort of rowing, and yet the torchlight drew ever nearer. It wouldn’t be long before they were within range to accost us with arrows.
Mikkel darted another look over his shoulder toward the oncoming boats. “Faster. We need to go faster.”
Judging by the grunts and heavy breathing from the others, they, like me, were doing as much as they could. But it simply wasn’t enough. The Inquisitor would catch up to us before we reached the island, and we would have to battle his men in hand-to-hand combat on the open sea.
“Loch Ness is near.” Felicity’s warning rang above the thudding of the waves and the rustling of the wind. “There.”
Mikkel ceased his rowing and stood, his spear in hand. He followed Felicity’s line of attention.
At a whizzing in the air, I called out, “An arrow! Take heed!”
Thankfully, Mikkel had already crouched, and the arrow overshot the boat. As he rose again, another arrow pinged against the wood.
“Stay down,” I urged.
But Mikkel raised his spear, his focus on the water.
My heart drummed a warning. He’d placed himself in too much peril all day long. And it was catching up to him.
Something collided with the boat, rocking it so that Mikkel lost his balance. His arms flailed as he attempted to keep his balance. But at another hard thwack, he toppled over and landed in the sea with a splash.
“No!” I scrambled toward the side, panic racing through me. “Mikkel!”
He broke through the surface, spluttering and coughing. I leaned over and held out an arm. He started to swim toward me, but a second later, something long and black twisted around him and dragged him underneath the surface. He disappeared, leaving only bubbles and ripples behind.
Chapter
15
Mikkel
A slippery body wrapped around my legs and dragged me down, farther away from the shimmering light on the surface. As I struggled against the eel-like creature, its clutch tightened with each movement. I had mere seconds before its hold would be too secure for me to free myself.
Though I hadn’t been able to access my knife, I’d managed to hold on to my spear. I couldn’t see through the blackness, but I took aim at the long coil wrapped around my thigh just above my knees.
As the spearhead sank past a scaly layer and penetrated into the flesh, the pressure against my legs loosened enough to yank myself free. I propelled myself up toward the light, kicking my legs and windmilling my arms in an effort to get away.
With my lungs already burning from the lack of air, I couldn’t let the serpent entangle me again, or I wouldn’t make it. I pumped my legs harder as the creature’s long tail slithered around me. Calculating the direction of its movement, I jabbed at the creature again with my spear, this time dragging the blade along its length.
When an inky cloud filled the water around me, I knew I’d injured it. Even then, I didn’t let down my guard and launched upward with every ounce of my strength. As I broke through the surface, I gasped for air and filled my lungs just in case the creature snagged me again.
Through the rivulets of water cascading down my face, I glimpsed the torchlight from the Inquisitor’s boats, which were much too close.
“Mikkel!” Pearl stretched out over the water, both arms extended.
Fear constricted my throat at the visualization of the creature slithering underneath the vessel, thumping it, and toppling Pearl into the sea. Skillful though she was, she wouldn’t have the strength to free herself from Loch Ness. And even if she did, I didn’t know if she could swim. Not many could.
“Get back!” I shouted at her. I’d rather Loch Ness take me down again than put Pearl at risk.
She leaned out farther, this time holding out a paddle. “Grab on!”
The first of the boats drew up alongside ours, and shouts rose into the air as Irontooth and the others readied to fight the Inquisitor’s men.
At the bump of scaly flesh against my legs, I braced myself for another attack. But the sea serpent glided past, heading in the direction of the boats.
Suddenly desperate, I swung my spear at it, hoping to make contact, needing to distract it and keep it away from Pearl. But the weapon only sliced through the water.
“Hurry!” Pearl called, thrusting out the paddle again.
Once more, all I could see was her plunging into the water and into Loch Ness’s clutches. “Get back into the boat!” I made swift strokes toward her.
She glanced over her shoulder and ducked, an arrow narrowly missing her neck.
As I reached the edge of her paddle, I wanted nothing more than to carry her off to Scania and make sure she was never in this kind of position again. Helplessly, I took hold of her offering and used her strength to add to mine. Within seconds I was at the edge
of the boat.
Sudden screams pierced the air. Loch Ness must have knocked another victim into the water. It wasn’t Pearl, and I prayed it never would be.
“Praise be.” She grabbed my arms and helped haul me into the boat.
I was tempted to berate her, but one of the Inquisitor’s guards had fallen overboard, and his comrades were distracted by trying to save him and stave off Loch Ness.
“Let’s be on our way!” I called to Irontooth. I needn’t have said anything, for he was already rowing. The other men were doing the same. I found a paddle and joined their efforts.
The screaming behind us grew wilder and more panicked before gurgling swallowed it. The remaining guards were shouting at one another to return to shore while the Inquisitor bellowed at them to follow us.
I didn’t glance back to gauge their decision. Only one thought pounded through me—that we needed to take advantage of their distraction and put as much distance between both the Inquisitor and Loch Ness as possible.
My pulse slapped in tempo with each stroke, until at last the torchlight as well as the voices faded into blackness. Even then, we didn’t slacken on our pace. We rowed silently and swiftly, the whistle of the wind urging us onward.
Through it all, Pearl remained at her oar without resting. I appreciated her tenacity. Most women would have given up. But she was a strong woman, one I could admire. If only I didn’t want to strangle her for taking so many risks.
Hours later, without any further encounters with the Inquisitor or Loch Ness, we arrived back at camp and were forthwith surrounded by everyone clamoring to hear about our adventures.
With Felicity at his side, Irontooth was all too willing to provide the details, including the daring rescue of the women at the town center, our race through town, and my escape from Loch Ness.
He made me out to be more of a hero than I wanted. As I tried to answer questions and deflect the admiration, I caught sight of Pearl sneaking away into our cave. From the way she’d lurked at the edge of the gathering and from the tension radiating from her body, she was upset about something.
Was she angry with me? And if so, why? If anyone should be upset, I was more justified than she was.
Excusing myself from the fire pit, I stalked into the cave, my footsteps heavy, my body weary, and my heart burdened.
The light from a lone candle revealed Pearl kneeling in front of an open sack, stuffing food and clothing inside. At the crunch of my steps, she cast me a glance but continued her efforts.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I am readying to leave for Warwick.”
“I’ll go alone without you, as you are too reckless and will get yourself into trouble.” I hadn’t heretofore considered going alone, but the words spilled out, the culmination of my fear from the past twenty-four hours. I’d had to stand aside and watch her put herself into harm’s way too many times, and I didn’t know how I could bear it again.
“Reckless? Trouble?” She sat back on her heels, her eyes widening upon me. “And how many times did you just defy death? If anyone is reckless, ’tis you.”
“I had everything under control.” At least, most of the time.
“As did I,” she retorted saucily as she turned her attention back to her packing.
“I want you to stay here. And I shall go to the queen and appeal for Ruby’s release into my care.” I was putting all my faith in my power as the future king of Scania. I’d give her an opportunity to forge an alliance with Scania in exchange for Ruby. How could she turn it down?
“The queen wants me and will not be satisfied until she has me.”
“Then all the more reason to remain behind.”
Pearl stood then and spun. “This is my battle, not yours.”
“The day we spoke our vows to each other, your battles became mine.”
Pearl tilted her head, regarding me with serious eyes. “I do not know what the queen intends, but she will not rest until she has what she seeks.”
I started across the cave, rounding the hearth that was cold and lifeless. As I approached, Pearl crossed her arms as though to shield herself. From what? From me?
Surely she sensed my loyalty to her by now. “I’ll not let her have you.”
“You may not have a choice.”
When I stopped in front of her, I wanted to wrap my arms around her and hold her tight, especially when she turned the full force of her gaze upon me, her green eyes so luminous and beautiful above the line of her veil. I started to reach for her, but she held up a hand. “I shall not let you touch me and attempt to mold me into doing as you wish.”
“I only do so because I care about you.” The words slipped out before I could filter them. Nevertheless, once spoken, I was relieved she knew the truth.
Her eyes flickered with accusation. “You could have died today.”
I took a step closer so I almost touched her, but I refrained. “Does that mean you care about me too?”
“It means pack your bags swiftly if you do not wish for me to leave you behind.”
Although she might not admit she was beginning to care about me too, I sensed she’d been as worried about me during the battle with the Inquisitor and Loch Ness as I had been about her.
“We’ll rest a few hours,” I insisted. “Then we’ll start off before dawn.”
She took a breath as though she might protest, but then she nodded. “Very well.”
We stood face-to-face, neither of us moving. My fingers itched with the need to reach for the strings of her veil. I wanted to untie them, let the silk fall away, and prove to myself and to her that whatever deformities or scars she was hiding didn’t matter. I’d failed to convey that after our kiss and wanted to make up for my mistake.
Although I wanted to accept her and value those blemishes because they were what had shaped her into the strong woman she’d become, was I truly ready to see her flaws? Could I do so without reacting? I wanted to think I could, but was I strong enough?
Even as I longed to break down the last barriers that stood between us, I knew that for now, the veil could keep her safe from recognition, especially as we traveled into Warwick amongst people who would more readily identify her as the princess she was.
Furthermore, I wanted her to be the one to remove the veil of her own free will. And I sensed she would only do so when she felt as though she could trust me completely. After all that had happened with her mother, her trust was the one thing that would be hardest to earn but would also be the most valuable.
Thus, I would bide my time and leave the veil in place.
Chapter
16
Pearl
The voyage to Warwick took longer than I wanted. But I respected Mikkel’s desire for caution. We sailed south in the calm waters of Oceanus along the coastline of the Great Isle, making our way at night and then finding secluded places to hide during the day.
Before departing, Mikkel and I had approached Irontooth with our plans. Though Mikkel reassured our leader he’d return within a month to finish his Testing, I’d sensed resignation from Irontooth, as though he realized, just as I did, that this new mission made the rescue of the women from Fife look like child’s play.
Even so, Irontooth had insisted on giving us a purse of silver that we could use to purchase supplies and food along the way. I privately vowed to repay Irontooth someday for his kindness, though I knew not how.
A week passed by the time we docked at the Cambrian Lowlands in Warwick. There Mikkel secured mounts from local sheep farmers. Then we set out with all haste to reach the woodland that bordered the mountains, anxious to find cover within the forest.
During our journey, whenever we needed anything, Mikkel insisted that Gregor and I wait in hiding as he conducted the bargaining. While he didn’t say so, I knew he was afraid people would take more notice of me because of my veil and Gregor for his scars. And we didn’t need any undue attention. He also insisted I wear my veil to hide my identity as P
rincess Pearl. I understood his reasoning and agreed, but a part of me wondered if he was glad for the excuses, so he could put off looking at the real me for as long as possible.
Had I only imagined the desire I’d seen in Mikkel’s eyes our last night on the Isle of Outcasts? I’d almost believed for a few seconds that he didn’t care anymore what I looked like, and that he might even reach up and remove my veil.
“I care about you.” I hadn’t imagined his words, and they stayed close to my heart. I cared about him too, and as we traveled long hours, I cherished him all the more for our easy conversations as well as deep discussions. Though we shared many things in common and our friendship deepened, I couldn’t squelch my growing disappointment that he showed no interest in seeing behind my veil.
Whenever I thought about the kisses we’d exchanged that night in Fife, I wanted to pull down my veil and show him he had nothing to be afraid of. But the longer he delayed initiating the removal, the more I resolved to wait to reveal myself to him until he asked it of me, until he was ready to accept me completely for who I was as a person and not for how I looked.
Another week elapsed before we reached the foothills and the more populated area of Warwick. Each passing day brought an increasing sense of unease. Though we didn’t meet many people, those we came across were frightened, withdrawn, and even hostile. Towns were quiet, and the fields to the southeast lay deserted of the many peasant laborers who worked them in the summer.
By the time we were a two days’ ride from Kensington, my apprehension had only grown.
“I do not understand,” I said, as I rode next to Mikkel. The village we’d just skirted had been abandoned. The thatched huts were dark, doors open, shutters broken or hanging by one hinge, and garden beds overgrown with weeds. “’Tis as if a plague has struck the people.”
“No one has made mention of disease.” Mikkel’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the darkness of the surrounding countryside. Always alert, Mikkel used the scant light from the stars and moon to guide us. From behind, Gregor, too, was ever aware of our surroundings.
