alive. Part of her wished she’d killed them.
“Quick.” Valc pulled her along.
She followed as fast as she could, and the monk was behind them. Both men had drawn daggers, watching over their shoulders. A monk with a weapon?
They made quick progress to the river. She could hear the splashing against the side of a ship or a boat, and then they were suddenly in the open. There was a short, narrow deck in front of them, with poles to tie off ropes, and long poles to push off the dock.
Valc and the monk hugged the wall. Cadha leaned around just a touch. She could see the edge of the long, narrow riverboat on the other side of the dock.
“There’s no one on this next boat,” she whispered.
The men looked at each other and nodded. They ran around the mooring posts and jumped over to the other dock. Valc motioned for Cadha to follow, and she jumped edge to edge, just as she’d sailed so many times off the hill at Hoorn onto Papa’s ship.
Only this time, she couldn’t tumble to the ground and be held safe in her father’s arms. This time, she had to keep running.
They ran up the small gangway. The boat wasn’t as deep or wide as Valc’s small trader. She wasn’t sure the riverboat was seaworthy, and it could only have ferried the men if they’d stayed in moving water, it was so flat on the bottom. Yet being on the solid deck eased her fear that it could at least take them away from this awful place.
They pulled up the gangway and used it to push away from the dock, then dropped it into the water. Valc and the monk picked up the poles that lay on the deck and pushed themselves out into the river.
“We’re going the wrong direction,” Valc said once they were into the current.
The monk took the long pole from Valc’s hand. “Let the river carry us where it needs to go.”
“But we can’t go back into England.”
“We won’t be on the river long enough to make England. We just need to get out of the city.” The monk walked to the back of the boat and lowered the rods into the water, pushing them along to even quicker speed than they had been making.
“What do you plan to do when we get out of the city?” Valc asked.
The monk waved him off. “Go, tend to your wife. Once we’re out of Berwick, we can find a ship that will take us where we need to go. I know some traders who dock in Edinburgh. We can be there by nightfall.”
Cadha’s head was spinning. They were in Berwick? Wasn’t that Scotland? And wife ? What had Valc done? Valc came to her side and put his hands on her, checking her arms and legs.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” He stopped at her wrists and looked them over.
“Your wife?” she whispered. “And who is that monk?”
“There’s much to tell you.” Valc dropped her hands and gripped the back of her head. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her with a ferocity she could only understand after having been spared from death on more than one occasion.
The hard seat of the riverboat cut into her back and her wrists still ached and she smelled vaguely of fish and sweat and perfume, yet every part of her body sang with anticipation when he touched her. She gripped the sides of his body with her legs.
Valc groaned in the back of his throat and angled his head, forcing her mouth open, taking his kiss deeper and harder.
“You are distracting me, Valc,” she said between furious kisses.
“Stop talking,” he ordered and something tingled in her belly.
“Stop, Valc. Tell me whatever it is you need to say.”
His eyes held a dark sheen when he finally looked at her. “I don’t want to talk.”
He leaned her back onto the seat and placed one hand under her head, steadying himself atop her. The aliveness returned to her skin and her body woke again.
The monk cleared his throat and punted at the river with the long pole. Cadha peered up at him and pushed at Valc’s chest.
“We have to talk,” she said.
Valc blinked and chewed on his lower lip. “You’re right.”
“Quick.” Valc pulled her along.
She followed as fast as she could, and the monk was behind them. Both men had drawn daggers, watching over their shoulders. A monk with a weapon?
They made quick progress to the river. She could hear the splashing against the side of a ship or a boat, and then they were suddenly in the open. There was a short, narrow deck in front of them, with poles to tie off ropes, and long poles to push off the dock.
Valc and the monk hugged the wall. Cadha leaned around just a touch. She could see the edge of the long, narrow riverboat on the other side of the dock.
“There’s no one on this next boat,” she whispered.
The men looked at each other and nodded. They ran around the mooring posts and jumped over to the other dock. Valc motioned for Cadha to follow, and she jumped edge to edge, just as she’d sailed so many times off the hill at Hoorn onto Papa’s ship.
Only this time, she couldn’t tumble to the ground and be held safe in her father’s arms. This time, she had to keep running.
They ran up the small gangway. The boat wasn’t as deep or wide as Valc’s small trader. She wasn’t sure the riverboat was seaworthy, and it could only have ferried the men if they’d stayed in moving water, it was so flat on the bottom. Yet being on the solid deck eased her fear that it could at least take them away from this awful place.
They pulled up the gangway and used it to push away from the dock, then dropped it into the water. Valc and the monk picked up the poles that lay on the deck and pushed themselves out into the river.
“We’re going the wrong direction,” Valc said once they were into the current.
The monk took the long pole from Valc’s hand. “Let the river carry us where it needs to go.”
“But we can’t go back into England.”
“We won’t be on the river long enough to make England. We just need to get out of the city.” The monk walked to the back of the boat and lowered the rods into the water, pushing them along to even quicker speed than they had been making.
“What do you plan to do when we get out of the city?” Valc asked.
The monk waved him off. “Go, tend to your wife. Once we’re out of Berwick, we can find a ship that will take us where we need to go. I know some traders who dock in Edinburgh. We can be there by nightfall.”
Cadha’s head was spinning. They were in Berwick? Wasn’t that Scotland? And wife ? What had Valc done? Valc came to her side and put his hands on her, checking her arms and legs.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” He stopped at her wrists and looked them over.
“Your wife?” she whispered. “And who is that monk?”
“There’s much to tell you.” Valc dropped her hands and gripped the back of her head. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her with a ferocity she could only understand after having been spared from death on more than one occasion.
The hard seat of the riverboat cut into her back and her wrists still ached and she smelled vaguely of fish and sweat and perfume, yet every part of her body sang with anticipation when he touched her. She gripped the sides of his body with her legs.
Valc groaned in the back of his throat and angled his head, forcing her mouth open, taking his kiss deeper and harder.
“You are distracting me, Valc,” she said between furious kisses.
“Stop talking,” he ordered and something tingled in her belly.
“Stop, Valc. Tell me whatever it is you need to say.”
His eyes held a dark sheen when he finally looked at her. “I don’t want to talk.”
He leaned her back onto the seat and placed one hand under her head, steadying himself atop her. The aliveness returned to her skin and her body woke again.
The monk cleared his throat and punted at the river with the long pole. Cadha peered up at him and pushed at Valc’s chest.
“We have to talk,” she said.
Valc blinked and chewed on his lower lip. “You’re right.”
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