quarters, he’d given up his attempts to have sex with her, but he never passed her off to any of his men either. A week after that, the warship from Himma attacked, and she found herself rescued in the middle of an otherwise calm night at sea, so much unlike the pirates’ attack on the Georgiana during a frightening storm.
The pirate captain had boasted that the first ship, the one they’d crashed into the Georgiana , had been a stolen merchant vessel they’d taken several weeks prior. No wonder they’d thought nothing of sailing straight up to the Georgiana during a storm and crashing into her. She’d glimpsed their longboats filled with food, spirits, and other goods meant for Geshema Providence.
All the muscles in Meadow’s body were aching by the time the tavern closed for the night. She grabbed a quick meal in the kitchen, helping herself to a shepherd’s pie the cook had saved for her, before she ventured back upstairs to her lonely chamber.
She went through her bedtime routine, donning the new nightdress she’d sewn and brushing out her long dark locks. She washed her face, cleaned her teeth, and settled into her bed, grateful that the tavern owner had been generous enough to provide her with this small chamber. Amidst her grief and all the memories that wouldn’t seem to fade, she valued her solitude and was glad she didn’t have to bunk with another employee.
She opened the window, allowing the warm night air into her chamber. Inhaling the scent of the ocean, she said a prayer for Varron’s soul. Please God, watch over him . Then she spoke aloud to her beloved husband, even though she doubted he could hear her.
“I miss you, Varron, and I’ll never forget you.” She stared at the stars sparkling in the vast black sky above, and at the slightly waning moon, bright and brilliant as it kept watch over the earth.
The sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore below lulled her into a trance, and she soon moved to her bed and crawled under the covers. She closed her eyes and envisioned Varron riding toward her on his horse, the hilt of his sword gleaming in the sun. Oftentimes, if she pictured him in her mind as she fell asleep, she would dream he was still alive.
Exhausted from working sunrise to sunset in the tavern, she drifted into unconsciousness as the warm breeze drifted through her window.
Rather than a pleasant dream about her beloved Varron, she dreamed she was falling into a deep black pit. She held her breath as she kept falling and falling, but the pit seemed bottomless, for she never hit the ground.
Suddenly, a light appeared above her and she stopped falling. She gasped and bolted upright in her bed, fully awake. Breathless from the nightmare, she blinked as her vision adjusted to the darkness.
Her heart caught in her throat when the outline of a huge man emerged, directly in front of her window, blocking out the white rays of the moon that normally spilled across the floorboards.
She clutched her covers up to her neck with one hand, but with her other hand she carefully reached beneath her pillow until her fingers brushed the cool surface of the knife she never slept without. She’d never been happier to have stolen the knife from one of the soldiers aboard the warship than she was now. Perhaps this intruder was one of the customers who’d visited the tavern earlier, drunk and hoping for a quick, easy fuck. Well, he was in for a big surprise.
Clutching the handle of the knife, she held it pointed outward, but underneath the covers so as not to alert the trespasser that she possessed a weapon.
The moment he came at her, she would stab him in the heart.
*****
Varron stared at Meadow as she slept peacefully, wondering what she was dreaming about. She whimpered something he couldn’t quite hear, and he took a step closer. Her arms thrashed around for a moment and then she shot up in bed. Apparently she hadn’t been slumbering as peacefully as he’d
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