by Monica Hahn
He gestured for Mikel to come to him, and Mikel did so, keeping a wide berth between Catarina and the mob of angry men.
When Mikel was close enough to be heard without shouting, he said, “This isn’t right, Captain. We can’t let her die.”
Tarik put a hand on Mikel’s shoulder and leaned in. “Of course not, lad. I have a plan. Go get the book.”
“What book?” Mikel, asked a bit confused.
“The captain’s book,” Tarik said. “I need it to perform the wedding.”
“What wedding?”
“Your wedding,” Tarik said. “You are marrying Catarina and then she won’t be an unmarried maiden anymore, the superstition won’t apply and she’ll be safe from this ridiculousness.”
“But…”
“Or they can toss her overboard,” Tarik said. “Or she can jump overboard. As your wife, the men will respect her.”
Mikel nodded. He passed Catarina over to Tarik, and left to fetch the book. Tarik put Catarina on her feet, but with his arm around her for support.
Catarina looked stunned. “I can’t marry him,” she said.
Tarik raised a brow. “He’s an excellent lad,” he said. “And you will be safer with him than any other man on this ship. You will marry him, or you can jump overboard before he gets back.”
“I’m sure he’s a wonderful person,” Catarina said, not sounding convinced at all. “But I’m engaged to someone else. Someone I promised my parents that I would wed.”
Tarik sighed. “So you can marry your fiancé later, love. Just pretend to marry Mikel now, so that we can get on with sailing the ship.”
“It’s a pretend wedding?” she asked, sounding relieved.
Tarik rolled his eyes. “It solves a problem.”
She nodded and composed herself.
Mikel found a willing enough bride waiting for him a few seconds later. Although he may come to regret this later, it was the only solution now. Tarik informed the hostile crowd what was planned, and they calmed down.
Everyone gathered around below deck for what was surely the oddest ceremony ever to take place on the Quest. Tarik managed the unfamiliar words with the help of the hastily found book. The bride’s teeth chattered with her response while Mikel answered with a clear voice. And then it was done, and all of a sudden the wind died down and they climbed back on deck to see the clouds part and the waves still.
“Unbelievable,” Tarik said, as his superstitious crew cheered, convinced that the wedding had saved them.
*****
Later that night, after Mikel had endured toasts to his happiness and some ribald teasing, he staggered to Tarik’s cabin. Tarik scowled at Mikel when he entered. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Retiring for the night,” Mikel said.
“Not here, you aren’t,” Tarik said. “You’re a married man.”
“That was for show,” Mikel said. “I barely know the girl.”
“You’re still going to share her cabin,” Tarik said. “Otherwise the men will riot.”
Mikel sighed, knowing it was probably true. At this point, any hint of something amiss could set them off. And after everything that had happened today, Catarina would probably be safest under his watchful eye. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it. “Why would you do this to me?” he asked. “I’m too young to be married.”
Tarik laughed. “It’s not like I would trust a gently born lady to anyone else on this ship,” he said.
That was true, and the thought made Mikel shudder. “Well, what am I supposed to do with her?” he asked.
Tarik shrugged. “Whatever you want to, lad. She’s your wife.”
Mikel thought about protesting further, but there wasn’t really any point. So, he went back to his cabin. He knocked quietly on the door, but there was no answer, so he walked inside. Catarina was sleeping on the bunk and he didn’t have the heart to disturb her. He ended up stretching out on the floor between the bunk and the desk. It was a small space, and he wished that there was room to hang a hammock, but there wasn’t. The bunk was big enough to fit two people, but he had a feeling that Catarina would not approve, and he liked his ears intact. Besides, there had been a moment earlier, when he had stopped her from throwing herself overboard, that she had fluttered like a bird in his hands, and then given him a pleading glance from her light blue eyes, and he was lost. He had fallen in love, right then and there. And damn Tarik for being right, love wasn’t for those afraid of pain. So, he was going to sleep on the floor and take comfort in the soft sighing sounds that his wife made.
Chapter Thirteen
Catarina woke up the morning after her fake wedding and stretched luxuriously. It was not an enormously large bunk, but being able to stretch out after being chained up in the ship’s hold was wonderful. And she was clean, and comfortable, and the blanket didn’t smell horrible. She smiled, and turned over on her side, then gave a small squeak of surprise as she finally identified the faint sound as snoring. As in, Mikel was snoring as he lay stretched out on the floor beside her bunk. It was literally the only place in the small cabin where he could stretch out at all, and it didn’t look particularly comfortable. Yet he was sleeping, if the faint snoring was any indication.
Catarina was grateful to Mikel. He had been nothing but protective towards her since their first meeting, and had even gone so far as to marry her in a pretend ceremony, but this was taking it all a bit too far! How was she possibly supposed to sleep with a strange man in her bedchamber? Even if, technically, it was his cabin. Was there really no other place on a large ship that he could find to sleep?
Mikel must have felt her accusing gaze, because he woke up with an immediate awareness, blinking once and then seeming completely alert. “Good morning!” he said, with a smile.
“Good morning,” Catarina said, with no smile.
“Is something amiss?” he asked, his genuine concern touching. “Did you sleep well?”
“Well enough,” Catarina said.
“Then what’s wrong?”
Catarina felt petty for caring about convention, and guilty for feeling petty, which made her tone sharper than she intended. “I didn’t realize that it was necessary to guard me so closely,” she said.
“Did you expect me to lie in the corridor, outside the door, so as to preserve your modesty?” he asked, his tone a bit mocking.
Since the thought had crossed her mind, Catarina just glared at him.
“I’m not going to be any more uncomfortable than necessary,” Mikel said. “It’s bad enough that I’m sleeping on the floor, but I happen to like the privacy of my cabin.” From the emphasis he put on the ownership, she could tell he felt quite strongly about it.
“Do I really need guarded at all?” Catarina asked, much more mildly.
Mikel gave a snorting laugh. “Considering the events of yesterday, I'm surprised you would need to ask that.”
“You’re saying that I’m not safe on a ship that you help command?”
“No,” he said. “You’re not.” His uncompromising words reminded her of the fragility of her situation. As nice as it was to be rescued, she still wasn’t completely safe yet, and she may never be. Although he might just be trying to frighten her, and succeeding.
He must have seen that she was frightened, because he lightened his tone and tried to jest with her. “Of course,” he said, “it might be that I’m guarding the ship from you.”
She managed a wan smile. He stood up, wrapping the blanket around him and sat on the edge of the bunk. He was disturbingly close, and although she knew he just meant to offer some comfort, she instinctively scooted back a bit.
He extended a bare arm from the blanket and touched her shoulder slightly. “Catarina, I’m sorry that this is the way things happened, and that you ended up here, on a ship with men that I don’t completely trust. It is necessary for me to spend my nights here in order to ensure your safety. That’s non-negotiable.”
She scooted further
back, more a rejection of his words than his touch, but he withdrew his hand and the blanket slipped a bit. She could see that his chest was bare also, and a horrible and amazing thought crossed her mind. “Are you naked?” she asked, without censoring herself.
“Yes,” he said, matter of factly. “I sleep naked.”
“Oh,” she said, faintly. “Well, I would really prefer that you didn’t. I mean, at least if you’re going to sleep here, in this cabin, with me, I’d rather that you didn’t. That you were clothed.”
His lips twitched, but his eyes stayed locked on hers until she lowered hers in confusion.
“I sleep naked,” he said. “And I prefer to be no more uncomfortable than necessary. So, I can sleep on the floor, you can sleep on the floor, or we can both sleep on the bunk. Those are your choices.”
Catarina stared at him in surprise.
“And you should be grateful you’re getting a choice!” he finished.
Catarina didn’t mean to cry. She really didn’t. At this point, it seemed manipulative, and she preferred reason to manipulation. But, she couldn’t help it, as he reminded her again of the complete powerlessness she felt in this situation. She was grateful she was getting a choice. He was considerably bigger and stronger than her, and could easily force her to be anywhere. For him to give up his bunk for her and choose to sleep on the floor to protect her was really incredibly sweet and generous of him. So, she cried. She turned to face the wall, pulling the blanket over her head, as if without seeing her face, Mikel wouldn’t figure out from the sound of her sobs and from her shaking that she was crying.
“Oh, luv, now don’t cry,” he said, rubbing her back. “I didn’t mean for you to cry.”
“I know,” she said, crying harder.
“I’ll wear a nightshirt,” he said. “If I can find one…”
For some reason this struck Catarina as amusing, and her tears switched to laughter. She unburied her head and turned a tear stained face to see the alarmed look on Mikel’s face, which made her laugh even harder. She knew he must think that she was unhinged, but she was overwrought with all the emotions and excitement of the past few days, and the thought of him asking any of his shipmate buddies for a nightshirt to borrow after they knew he had just gotten married seemed incredibly funny.
Mikel threw up his hands in exasperation when he realized that she was now laughing, and the blanket slipped down to his waist. Catarina had seen bare chests before, but few as amazing as his, and never any that close. He was bronzed and chiseled, and even the various scars didn’t detract from the absolute perfection. The sight of it shut down any inclination to either laugh or cry, and she went still and silent instead, and finally realized she should probably stop staring. She raised her eyes to Mikel’s face, to find a faint emotion there.
He wrapped the blanket around himself again. “I apologize,” he said, stiffly. “I forget that a lady like yourself probably hasn’t been exposed to such a disgusting spectacle as my scars before. I will definitely clothe myself in the future.”
“Not on my account,” Catarina said, before she could stop herself. She bit her tongue, hard, and then spoke again when she thought she could say something ladylike. “I mean, please do on my account, but not because I’m disgusted. You’re beautiful.” Okay, so that last part wasn’t particularly ladylike, but she didn’t like that Mikel would possibly think that he disgusted her. The opposite, in fact. Not that she wanted him to know that she was extremely attracted to him, either. But it was a shame that he didn’t know he was beautiful.
He grinned at her, and her heart stopped. “Of course I am,” he said, but she could tell that he didn’t really believe it.
She had to stop herself from trying further to convince him. That wasn’t what she needed to do right now. She took a deep breath and tried to think of Stefan instead. She couldn’t exactly picture his face very well. It had been too long since she had seen him, and the harder she tried to bring an image of her fiancé’s face into focus, the more his features morphed into Mikel’s. And, although she had never seen Stefan’s chest, she was pretty sure it wasn’t bronzed and chiseled. But, he was her fiancé, because she was engaged to him, and she was going to marry him, and it would take a lot more than a beautiful chest to shake her resolve. She resolutely turned to face the wall.
“Catarina?”
“I’m waiting for you to leave so that I can arise,” she said.
“Oh, of course,” he said. “I’ll be out directly.”
Catarina felt the lack of warmth as he stood up from the bunk, and heard the rustle of the blanket being dropped to the floor and then more rustling sounds as he dressed. She heard the thump his boots made as he tugged them on and stood up, but during the whole ordeal she kept her eyes tightly closed, resisting the temptation to sneak a peek.
“I’ll be waiting outside to escort you to breakfast,” Mikel said, and then the door opened and closed.
Catarina released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and shook her head.
*****
True to his word, Mikel was waiting for her when she emerged from the cabin, in a respectable amount of time. She was wearing the other dress that he had procured for her, and she looked beautiful in it, although the fit could have been a bit better. It was also too fancy for daytime wear, but he wasn’t too worried about her being overdressed.
He offered her his arm and she took it. “Does the crew all eat together then?” she asked, when they were partly to the galley.
“Yes,” he said. “And so do our guests. We currently are hosting Mr. Freyer, whose goods we are transporting. He is traveling with some associates.” Mikel didn’t mention that it was these associates that had endangered her life yesterday. He had already had a word with Mr. Freyer about that.
“How lovely,” Catarina said. “Is that usual, to have merchants travel with their goods?”
“Not at all,” Mikel said. “Which is why Mr. Freyer is paying a very high rate for the privilege. And Tarik explained that it was his goods that were guaranteed to arrive in safety, not himself necessarily. That conversation went well!”
Catarina laughed. “I would think so.”
They could hear the sound of lively conversations a ways from the galley, along with the clinking and clanging of dishes and utensils. Meals tended to be boisterous. Mikel was a bit worried that Catarina would object to the level of uncouthness exhibited. Everything stopped when he stepped through the doorway with Catarina. It was alarmingly quiet. Catarina took a look at the men straddling benches, in the act of shoveling food into their mouths with no regard for basic sanitation, and smiled brightly.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” she said, her voice perfectly cultured.
There was a mumbling of returned greetings, and she picked her way through the tangle of tables and chairs to a partially empty table. Mikel followed her there and held out a chair for her, brushing the crumbs off of it with a handkerchief he pulled out of his pocket, then used the same piece of linen to wipe the tabletop for her. Conversation had resumed, although to a much quieter extent, but nobody said anything at the table Catarina was now sitting at. Mikel went to get her a plate of food, and she looked over her tablemates.
“I’m Catarina,” she said, “And you are?”
“I’m Joey,” said a large man with a shaved head and one huge gold earring. “And this here is little Teddy.” He laid an affectionate hand on the shoulder of the teenage boy beside him. The other occupant, an older man with a wiry build and a pointed beard, nodded to her. “I’m Gerald,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Mikel returned then, with two brimming plates of food and sat beside her in the last available chair. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I got you some of everything,” he said.
And it certainly looked as though he had. They ate well on the Quest, apparently, and Catarina was certainly hungry. “I appreciate it,” she
said, and then began eating.
“You’re a very pretty lady,” Teddy said. He hadn’t stopped staring at her since she had sat down.
She smiled at him, and Mikel frowned. “Teddy, are you flirting with my wife?” he asked.
The poor boy blushed even brighter, and Catarina laid a hand on Mikel’s arm.
“Don’t tease the lad,” Joey said. “He’s just speaking the truth, is all.”
“It’s not like he told her that her eyes shine like sapphires, or her skin is flawless and her features like that of a porcelain doll,” Gerald said, his own eyes shining with mischief.
Mikel frowned deeper.
“You don’t approve of your friends saying pretty things to me?” Catarina asked, biting back a smile.
“No!” Mikel said. “I don’t.”
He leapt out of his chair and climbed onto it. Joey obligingly banged his mug on the table and the room quieted down as everyone looked at Mikel expectantly.
“Nobody says pretty things to my wife!” he said, loudly. Then, as he started to step down, he changed his mind. “And nobody says ugly things to my wife!” he said, even more emphatically.
“So, we don’t speak to her at all?” someone asked.
“Exactly!” Mikel said. Then he looked at Catarina, who was shaking her head and shook his own head. “No, you can speak to her. Polite things, only!”
“As long as we can look at her,” someone said.
“No looking!” Mikel said. “Or, at least, no leering. And, absolutely, under no circumstances, is anyone allowed to touch my wife.”
Teddy tugged at the hem of Mikel’s pants to get his attention. “What if she was about to fall overboard?” he asked.
“It’s a valid question,” Gerald said. “What if she needs assistance of some kind?”