The Wild and Lonely Sea

by Isobel Robertson

  Red’s anger seemed to drop out of him instantly. He frowned down at Lisbetta and Moira, who’d pulled themselves up to lean together as they sat on the hallway floor.

  “Ye’re right, Cormac. I’m sorry. I just didnae want to believe he was really as bad as all that. After all, he treated us well enough for a time. But ye have to decide, Cormac. Ye cannae just walk away from Sigurd and hope for the best. Either ye fight alongside him, or ye fight against him. Pick one or the other and get ready for battle.”

  Cormac sighed. “Ye know he’ll be back. And I’ll be ready to stand against him. There’ll be no dead children here.”

  Red patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. “Then I’ll leave ye all to recover, whatever’s happened here.”

  “You won’t stay for a drink?” Moira asked, struggling to her feet.

  Red shook his head. “I was at Kitty’s before that damn ship appeared. I’ll head back there now afore she kicks me out for good.”

  “Ye were with Kitty at this time of night?” Cormac said, raising an eyebrow. “Is there a proposal coming, then?”

  Red laughed roughly. “Don’t be such an idiot. Ye know how I feel about marriage. And who would want anything serious with Kitty? I’ll be paying her for her time. That suits us far better.”

  He turned and walked off down the street, kicking angrily at a pile of rags as he went, disappearing into the darkness.

  "He's an idiot," Cormac said. "Kitty would marry him in a moment."

  Lisbetta sank back down onto the floor, leaning against the banister and tipping her head back to gaze at the ceiling. One piece still hadn’t fallen into place What hadn’t she seen?

  “There was some strong magic mixed into that fire,” Moira commented. “Do selkies work with fire?”

  Lisbetta shook her head. “What use would we have for fire magic underwater?”

  But not all selkies stay underwater, a quiet little voice said, somewhere deep in her brain. Some selkies spend their time drifting backward and forward through the boundaries.

  “Erlend.”

  She sat bolt upright, eyes wide, her head spinning.

  “What?”

  Moira and Cormac both turned to her at once, their eyes full of concern.

  “It was Erlend,” she told them. “One of the most powerful selkies. He wanted to marry me, and I left. I felt his magic tonight. He was the one who let those selkies cross the boundaries.”

  She sat for a moment, trying to untangle her thoughts. Weak from the loss of magic, ready to collapse, she still had to think.

  “He’s been working with Sigurd all along,” she told them. “It was his magic on the Golden Lion in Glasgow. That ship didn’t come here to punish you. It was here for me. Erlend wants to make me pay for refusing him, and he has the gold to hire his own human army.”

  *****

  Chapter 10

  Lisbetta woke slowly, her head pounding and her mouth so dry she could barely swallow. Her arms and legs felt weak and exhausted, and she didn’t want to even attempt standing. How much magic had Moira taken from her? It seemed impossible that any human could handle so much power, and yet it had happened.

  The murmur of voices drifted up the stairs and she frowned. Had Red returned already? Judging by the light outside, morning hadn’t passed yet, and she would have expected everyone to still be in bed after the events of the night before.

  “She’s sick,” Moira said firmly, her voice nearer the stairs now. “You can come back tomorrow and talk to her then.”

  Someone else said something; an unfamiliar voice, and words that Lisbetta couldn’t quite make out. She could amplify it with magic, but even the thought was exhausting. Hopefully she wasn’t missing anything too important.

  “Yes, I promise she’ll still be here,” Moira said, sounding impatient and perhaps a little angry. “Now leave my house. I have an invalid to care for. If you want to speak to my brother, you’ll have to come back later.”

  More muffled noise. Then the front door shut and silence fell.

  Lisbetta struggled out of bed, her legs so weak that she had to clutch at items of furniture as she walked, just to stay upright. She made her way downstairs sitting down, shuffling down one stair at a time. It was undignified to say the least, but she couldn’t waste her strength when she might need it at any time to confront Erlend.

  “How much did you hear?” Moira asked, glancing up from stirring her pot as Lisbetta entered the kitchen. Her little cat, washing itself by the hearth, ignored Lisbetta entirely.

  “Not very much,” Lisbetta said. “My senses are as weak as the rest of me.”

  Moira patted her shoulder a little awkwardly. “Of course. I’m sorry I took so much, but I couldnae do that without you. You’re very in tune with the weather.”

  “I know. What’s happened?”

  “They’re trying to arrest Cormac for smuggling, seeing as there’s no evidence for piracy and everyone who came to investigate seemed to lose interest.”

  “Can’t you just keep doing the same thing?”

  “I dinnae know.” Moira focused on whatever was in the pot, stirring it hard as the flowery fragrance filled the kitchen. “The entire customs office seem to be involved in this one. I cannae enchant everyone for ever. We might have to do this in more normal ways.”

  “What did those men want?”

  “To talk to you. They seem to be convinced that you know something about Cormac’s cargo, seeing as you came with him from Glasgow. I’ll try to keep them away from you. They’re no’ always kind to strangers, especially those with no family or support.”

  “I can’t just be dragged in for questioning, can I?” Lisbetta said, the feeling of bound wrists and the darkness of Sigurd’s ship flashing through her mind. In this state, she could hardly defend herself.

  “We’ll make sure you aren’t,” Moira said. “Now sit down and eat something. You’re shaking like a leaf. There’s oatmeal ready for you on the table. I kept it hot. Take a swig of whiskey from the tankard as well. You look like you need it.”

  Lisbetta had nearly finished the oatmeal, which was indeed still hot, when Cormac appeared at the back door.

  “Climbed over the wall,” he told her with a grin. “Didnae fancy running into those gentlemen who visited earlier.”

  “You can occasionally be intelligent,” Moira said dryly. Her voice sounded amused, but Lisbetta could see the trace of a worried frown on her brow. There were too many enemies coming at them all at once. Even someone as strong as Moira must get tired eventually.

  “Aye, occasionally,” Cormac said, his voice just as dry, and one eyebrow lifted. “Moira, could ye give me a moment with Lisbetta, please? I have something I want tae discuss with her.”

  Moira tilted her head, her lips slightly parted, before shrugging one shoulder and backing towards the door.

  “As you wish, brother. I’ll be nearby if you need me.”

  Her cat scuttled out to stand by her feet and she shut the door behind it, leaving Cormac and Lisbetta alone in the kitchen. Cormac stood by Lisbetta’s elbow, looking down at her as she self-consciously wiped her mouth free of the last trace of oatmeal.

  “I have a suggestion,” he said at last. “At the moment, the King’s customs officer could call ye in at any moment for questioning. He’s a fair enough man, generally, so I wouldnae usually worry too much. But, last month, a girl went in there tae be asked a few questions, and she never came out. She was a beggar girl, with few friends or family, so no one made much of a fuss. But Moira didnae like it, and neither did I, so I asked some questions. It’s all just guesswork, but it seems that one of the new men working there has a taste for helpless women.”

  “Like Sigurd’s men.”

  “Close enough,” Cormac said. “I know that ye’re a long way from helpless, but I dinnae want ye to be forced into a difficult position just because ye’re associated with me, not when ye can’t go home yet.”

  “I don’t know if I can ever go home.”


  “Exactly. Ye could find yourself in difficulty if ye’re accused of witchcraft. Ye ken how much I worry about Moira.”

  “What’s your suggestion?” Lisbetta asked, toying with the handle of her spoon. She seemed to be finding it hard to breathe, all her attention on the rough woodgrain of the table. Cormac’s voice sounded very distant.

  “Marry me.”

  “What?” Her voice came out weak and breathless, a helpless little squeak. She tried again. “What do you mean, marry you?”

  Her voice came out a breathy whisper, catching in her throat. Her vision blurred a little. She must have drunk too much of the whiskey. Or had it been brandy? Thinking straight seemed to be far too difficult.

  “Ye could marry me,” Cormac said, reaching forward as if to touch her face, then abruptly pulling his hand back. He looked away, as if the words had finally broken whatever strange spell had hung over them.

  “I’m sorry,” he said turning away. “I shouldnae even suggest it. Ye’re clearly far above me. Ye could do far better once ye got home.”

  “Please, don’t,” Lisbetta said, reaching her own hand to touch him, resting her fingertips gently on the back of his shoulder. “You must have had a reason for suggesting it. Explain to me.”

  “If we marry, then ye’ll be my wife, and forbidden to testify against me. The law will have to leave ye alone. I cannae keep ye safe from all the magic and the pirates and this Erlend ye spoke about, but I can keep ye safe in this one small way.”

  Marry? Only a few days ago, she had been prepared to turn her life upside down to avoid marrying Erlend. How could she marry this near-stranger?

  But then she thought of the darkness she’d lain in, deep in the hold of Sigurd’s ship. All the stories of witch-burnings and seal-hunts flashed through her head. This wasn’t her world, and she didn’t know how to survive in it alone. The dangers seemed to pile up higher every day. If her strength didn't return soon, she'd be entirely helpless. But here, in this house, with Cormac beside her and Moira's magic around her, the fears seemed to fade away.

  “Yes. I’ll marry you.”

  He spun right round, staring at her, his eyes wide and confused.

  “Ye’ll marry me? Ye mean it?”

  Lisbetta cleared her throat a little, and ran her hand through her hair. “Yes. If you really want to marry me, that is.”

  The smile that split across his face lit him up so warmly that it made Lisbetta’s skin tingle like magic.

  “I ken we only met a few days ago,” he told her. “But aye, I really do want tae marry ye. I’ll take care of ye and treat ye well. I’m no’ a rich man, but I have enough, and I’ll give ye everything ye need.”

  Lisbetta sat back in her seat, her mouth dry. She hadn’t expected this when she left with him. But what had she expected? Nothing on this adventure had turned out to be what she imagined. She picked up the pewter tankard, gulping back a splash of burning whiskey and fighting back the cough.

  “When?” she asked him.

  “Today, if I can arrange it. We’d usually have to read the banns, but seeing as ye have no one to care for ye, I think that everyone will be understanding. Let’s go down to the church and find out right now. Moira and Red can be our witnesses.”

  Today? Lisbetta’s head ached at the thought of even leaving the house, let alone getting married. But Cormac’s infectious enthusiasm teased a little smile out of her.

  “Today sounds perfect. I’ll just need to tidy myself up and get ready.”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll fetch Moira. Perhaps I’ll go down to the church and sort things out while ye bathe.”

  He kissed her on the cheek, then blushed bright red and left the room, a bounce in his step. How could he be so cheerful when he was being investigated for two different crimes and had a pirate gang out to get him?

  “A wedding, then,” Moira said, coming back into the room.

  Lisbetta looked down at her now-empty tankard. “So it appears. Unexpected, I know.”

  Moira laughed. “Only to you. Cormac hasnae been able to take his eyes off you since you arrived. I thought this might be coming. Why do you think I was so angry when I realised what you are? All our stories about selkies have them as wicked temptresses.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  Moira shrugged. “Stories only ever tell half the truth. But let’s get you washed and dressed. I assume you have no trouble washing in cold water?”

  Lisbetta rolled her eyes. “After a lifetime in the sea, I think I can survive.”

  She scrubbed herself down quickly with a bucket of water brought from the pump in the back yard, and then Moira helped her to wash her hair. They dried her again with a shared spark of magic, her red curls settling around her shoulders in soft waves. Moira found a pretty dress for her, in a deep emerald green that she hoped brought out the green tint in her dark eyes. Cormac had seen her at her worst. She wanted him to see her at her best as well - or at least the best she could manage as a simple human. As a precaution, she tucked her sealskin into the bodice of her dress.

  Cormac hadn’t yet returned, so Moira decided that they should just go to the church in search of him.

  Sure enough, he stood in front of the church, arguing with Red.

  “She’s a beautiful woman, I’ll gi’ ye that,” Red said. “But marriage? Ye’re a fool. We dinnae live any kind of life for marriage. And ye cannae just go jumping intae something like this! Ye hardly know the woman!”

  He stopped abruptly when he saw Lisbetta approaching, and bowed to her a little stiffly.

  “Congratulations, ma’am. Ye’ve found yerself an excellent man.”

  “I know,” Lisbetta said, and smiled at Cormac. He smiled back, his eyes crinkling, and held out a hand to her. She took it, and let him lead her into the church.

  The ceremony flew by in moments. A few sentences, murmured over the Bible that the minister held out to them, and they were man and wife under human law. Lisbetta left the church in something of a daze, Cormac’s hand limp in hers. Gentle rain softened her skin, the moisture achingly similar to her home, yet utterly foreign. She almost expected to wake up and find this all a dream. When had she had time to make a decision?

  But it didn’t have to be forever. She would go home soon, and then she and Cormac could forget they had ever met each other.

  “Let’s celebrate!” Cormac said, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing it. He’d tried to kiss her during the ceremony, but she’d turned her head so that he only got her cheek. She smiled at him, but his warm closeness was too much, too unnerving. For a moment, she thought of Erlend.

  What would this have been like if she and Cormac were truly in love? Would they have been arm-in-arm, laughing as they ran down the church path?

  Moira's voice cut through her thoughts, a little more high-pitched than usual.

  “A celebration sounds perfect. Shall we go to the inn?”

  “Might as well get drunk,” Red said darkly, and stormed off ahead of them.

  Cormac let go of Lisbetta’s hand and ran after his friend, catching at his arm and saying something to him. Moira slowed down to walk alongside Lisbetta as they followed along behind.

  “You look like you just had the fright of your life,” Moira murmured.

  “I can’t say I was planning to get married for a long time yet,” Lisbetta admitted. “But your brother is a good man.”

  “Yes. He is. Dinnae forget it.”

  A warning? Lisbetta shot a sideways glance at Moira, but the other woman’s expression gave nothing away. She watched the back of Cormac's head as he spoke urgently to Red. How had she, descendant of warrior queens, come to depend on a single human man?

  They made their way into the inn common room to find that Cormac had already told everyone about the wedding. The air filled with congratulations, and Lisbetta found herself letting every man in the room kiss her cheek while she plastered on a smile.

  When at last she found a seat, the table in fron
t of her was covered in pitchers of beer, and Moira had vanished. A few men struck up a song on a fiddle and pipe, and everyone except Lisbetta burst into song. She sat alone in the corner, sipping from a tankard of beer, and self-consciously smoothing her hair back out of her face. Around her, the men got drunker and drunker. Cormac sat beside her, his arm wrapped around her waist, and his rough stubble scratching her cheek. She tried to smile at him, but her brain was fogged and her face felt too stiff to move. She drank some more beer, and he had gone.

  “Are they here? Cormac and Red? I need to see them.”