by C. C. Wiley
“First, I cannot marry your son because he has not asked me. And,” she said before Lady Mary could interrupt, “you may not want your son to wed me once you hear of my strange quality.” She took a deep breath and began the tale of what disturbed her sleep most every night of her life. “That,” she added at the end of her tale, “is why James cannot set sail without me.”
She waited in the silence of the room. They had returned to the chairs by the fire, their pitcher and mugs empty of ale, the food brought in by young Mille untouched. The fire in the hearth shimmered in Lady Mary’s eyes.
She stood abruptly and held out her hand. “Come child, you’ve not a moment to waste.” Calling out for Mille, she had the servant begin to gather up the food in the tablecloth. Before sending the girl off to do her bidding, she scribbled a note and handed it to her with more instructions. “We’ve fine baskets woven here in Mallows Marsh, but I fear ’twould be too bulky an item to carry,” she muttered to herself.
Terrwyn watched her warily. Did Lady Mary mean to send her out into the wilderness? Perhaps tell James she ran from him? Though she knew she’d taken a chance in revealing her secret, she had not figured to be run off in the middle of the night. The thought of James not in her life wrenched her stomach.
“Come. Come child.” Lady Mary motioned with an urgent wave of her hand. She pulled her up the stairs and into her own bedchamber. A great chest stood against the wall. She opened the double doors and peered inside. Her head shoved to the farthest corner of the interior, she dragged out a pair of leggings and an old leather jerkin. The clothing sailed in the air and landed on the master bed.
“I know you cannot want to wear men’s apparel already, but they’ll be there should you need them.” Lady Mary stuck her head back in the chest and came out with a dark brown woolen day-gown. Satisfied with her selection, she flipped it on the bed to join the leggings and jerkin.
“I haven’t a gambeson to fit you.” She snapped her fingers. “But cotton shirting will make a layer underneath the leather.”
Terrwyn blinked. Was his mother now speaking to her instead of to herself? “I have the clothing I came with.”
“Oh, well—no, dear, you don’t. I cannot lie to you. It stank beyond repair. Fact is, it had to be burned.” She tilted her chin, daring Terrwyn to challenge her. “Besides, you would not want to wear it again. Leastwise not in closed confinement. And I don’t want my shipment damaged by the stink.” She lifted her shoulders expressively. “There you have it.”
“Confinement? Do you intend to imprison me?”
Lady Mary stared at her as if she had grown two heads. “Are you daft, my dear? Of course not!”
“Then what is all this?”
“Your travel clothes, my dear. I aim to help you steal aboard my own ship that is sailing for Cardiff within the hour.”
Terrwyn squealed and threw herself into Lady Mary’s arms.
“There now, child, ’tis best you get a move on.”
A knock came at the door. Mille handed her mistress a note and, after bobbing a curtsy, ran off with her lady’s response.
“My son is throwing a spanner in our plans. He unwisely wants to set sail while it is still nighttime. I’ll stall them as long as I can.”
Terrwyn picked up the pair of leggings.
“Nay, don the gown, my dear. If James sees you before you set sail for England, he’ll be too busy ogling you to yell overmuch.”
A leather satchel lay on the bed. Terrwyn quickly folded and shoved the rest of the clothing inside. James’s mother held out a heavy black cloak for her. The interior was lined in a wondrous thick layer of fur.
Lady Mary held a lantern overhead and led her down the stairway to a side door. The stone panel swung in when she lifted a lever beside it.
Encased in darkness, they descended into a tunnel that led them beneath the castle. Lady Mary worked to keep the flame in the lantern from guttering. The sound of dripping water echoed against the moss-covered walls. The cool, damp air made Terrwyn shiver despite the heavy cloak about her shoulders. She was beginning to think she had stepped into a faerie’s maze and would never return.
They came to stop at a wide stone slab flooring. Another lever was lifted and the door swung in. A lantern hung from a post at the door. Outside, the moon shone brightly; the stars twinkled over their heads.
Two men were loading a boat with supplies. Though it was smaller than some merchant vessels, the pinnace would do well for the channel’s shallower depths. It hung low in the water, loaded with their shipment of goods. The masts stood like two fingers pointing to the heavens above; folded canvas rested neatly at the wrists, waiting to be unfurled once they were underway.
“This is Captain Barragh. He will take good care of you. He knows you are my precious cargo and will transfer you to the larger ship in Cardiff.” Lady Mary leaned over and whispered, “I cannot explain it, but I frighten him.”
“Welcome aboard,” he snapped.
Terrwyn eyed the rotund man. His weathered face did not show any signs of welcome.
Lady Mary kissed Terrwyn’s forehead. “Don’t be afraid. Your bow and quiver are in the lower deck where you will be hiding. A small packet of food is there as well. Remember, James sails on this ship as well. Do not move from your hiding place lest you are discovered.”
“This way, my lady,” Captain Barragh said.
Onboard, Terrwyn stopped to wave and heard Lady Mary say, “Go with God and return to us soon.”
At the sound of James’s voice, Terrwyn forgot she was no longer wearing her leggings and turned too quickly. She caught herself before she fell into the dark hole leading to the deck below.
They were underway and sailing through the channel’s choppy currents. Terrwyn swallowed the building nausea. Terrified from never having sailed in more than a small carroche basket to catch fish on the River Usk, she looked forward to when they pulled into Cardiff’s port.
Captain Barragh scowled at her every time he came below deck to check on her. She would be happy to be free of the angry, sun-scarred man. She had a feeling he’d be just as relieved when she stepped off his ship and he handed her over to another.
Soon the rocking began to soothe her weary bones. How long it had been since she slept solidly? She blinked, trying to shake off the heaviness that came with the ship’s gentle sway.
She went over Lady Mary’s instructions. Captain Barragh would see to her transfer to the Genoese Queen. The Queen was a large merchant ship, a carrack. She would know it by its four masts standing out from the crowd of smaller ships and fishing boats. It was carrying blue woad dye and other spices to Southampton. James, too, would be on that same ship, but if she kept to herself, she would not be found until they were far enough out of Cardiff’s port.
When the door to her cramped quarters opened, Terrwyn stood and grabbed the bow and arrow she kept ready at all times. The captain scowled at the weapon in her hands and shoved an hourglass toward her.
“Be ready when the sand empties.”
Wearing the cloak Captain Barragh demanded she put on, Terrwyn stumbled over ropes and pulleys as she clambered down to the dinghy below. Though she felt like a wraith moving over the water in the dinghy, she surely did not feel graceful.
Why she’d heeded Mary’s instructions to wear the confining gown was beyond her understanding. The persuasive woman must have caught her by surprise.
The captain and his shipmates hustled her out of the dinghy and onto the planking leading up to the merchant ship. Terrwyn paused to count the tall masts. One, two, three and four.
“Come on with yerself,” Captain Barragh said.
When the bag of gold coins passed between the men, Terrwyn grew anxious. There had been talk in her village that women were sold as slaves—some used for household labor and others as whores until they died. She glanced back at the town of Cardiff. A few buildings still held the scars from Owain Glyndwr’s attack on the town. Blackened spires thrusting into the
sky were all that remained of the wooden structures. That was in the year 1404, just five years before her brother was abducted. Her stomach twisted at the thought that perhaps her father had been one of his followers. ’Twould explain the king’s decision to reduce the family’s title and take away their land. She had been a child of eight years. No length of searching would help her remember if her father had gone off to war.
She pulled her shoulders straight. Well not this time. She would stop her father’s madness. “Thank you, Captain Barragh. I will certainly inform Lady Mary of your good service.” She held out her hand to the gentleman standing beside the captain. “I’m Mistress Terrwyn Frost.”
His chest puffed out, making the ruffles on his shirt even fuller. The red satin belt around his middle stretched, threatening to burst from the pressure. He took her fingertips, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “I am Russo, Captain of the Genoese Queen.”
Terrwyn peeled her fingers from his grasp. “I understand we will soon set sail for England. If you’ll direct me to my cabin, I’ll settle in until we are underway.”
She lifted the hem of her gown, marched past the two captains and ignored the stares she left in her wake. She stopped only when what appeared to be a first mate or something refused to let her cross onto the deck. Saints’ bones, how was she to know whom to turn to? She had never been on a merchant ship before in her life.
Terrwyn jumped when the captain grabbed her elbow. “You will follow my orders and do as I say, when I say. Sì?” He led her to the small cabin where she would be staying until they landed and nearly threw her into the cramped quarters.
Terrwyn shoved her hair out of her face. She rubbed her arm, certain a bruise would soon form. “Aye. But I won’t be made a prisoner, Captain Russo.”
“I cannot guarantee your safety if you do not listen.” He pointed his thick callused finger at her. “You will stay in here at all times. Unless you are looking to whore yourself out, you will keep the hood of your cloak over your head. You understand. Sì?”
“I cannot go out on the deck?” The dank cabin was the size of a cupboard. A small window no bigger than her fist was shuttered closed. “What if I need to gain a breath of fresh air?”
He waved his hands in the air. “Bah! This does not start well. I can tell you are stubborn donkey. It is madness to keep you on my ship.” After searching the folds of his doublet he held out the bag exchanged between captains. “Here. Take the coins and be gone with you. Peace on my ship is too important.”
Terrwyn flipped down the hood and took the cloak off. When he saw the bow and quiver strapped to her shoulder, his bushy gray eyebrows rose over cold narrowed eyes.
“Nay. Here I will stay. You won’t even know I’m aboard your ship.” She dropped her satchel on the little bed and neatly folded her cloak. She turned, arms crossed, and waited. The captain would have to physically pick her up and toss her off his ship. She prayed he would not have to. She now had two men to save.
“Please, signorina, you be a good girl. Eh?”
“It is signora, Captain Russo. Signora Frost.”
A look of confusion washed over his face, but he shrugged. “I’ll let you out for a breath of air once when we are underway.”
He took out a key and before she could object, he closed and locked the door.
The ship pitched and rolled on the currents. She found a small blade James’s mother must have tucked in the satchel and used it to pry open one of the shutters. After stacking several boxes on top of each other, she climbed up to look out. A fine mist swirled through the window. Once Captain Russo deemed the conditions were acceptable the ship shuddered and swung about. With the sails set, they were underway.
A few hours later, Terrwyn began to pray that she might die.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Terrwyn squeezed her eyes shut. She could not believe a ship that heaved itself from one side to the other, then bucked up and down, would survive the weather. She was certain they were all going to die. She wished it would be soon.
“’Tis a coward, that is what you are,” she scolded herself.
Oh, if only James were here. He would help keep her mind busy with something else besides the way her stomach churned every time the ship shifted direction. The walls of the exterior shook when wave upon wave slammed into the hull.
“Lord above,” she groaned into the slop bucket the shipmate had brought to her after his first visit to her quarters.
He had muttered, “Verde,” and shaken his head. He returned with a bucket and wet rag and touched his face. His pity lasted long enough for him to lock the door behind her.
Verde. Aye. She translated the word when Captain Russo came down to see for himself. Evidently she was an unusual shade of green. Another roll of the ship and she swore as her stomach tried to come out through her back. Though this time she noticed he did not lock the door behind him. She would have laughed if she had the strength.
Her cheek pressed to the wooden flooring, she shoved her hair off her face. Cursing under her breath, she prayed for the seas to calm. James was somewhere on the ship and she had to find him before they docked in Southampton.
She released her death grip on the slop jar. Sliding to one hip, she steadied her head and waited for the room to stop tilting.
There were voices outside her door. Captain Russo was lecturing someone in Italian. She did not want to be the deckhand who was getting the verbal thrashing. She lifted her head when the captain’s victim responded in English. Dear Lord, the sickness must be making her mad. She recognized that voice.
The door swung open as she grabbed the small bed to drag her body up.
“Woman, are you a raving lunatic? What do you think you are doing here?”
Terrwyn started to defend her actions but felt compelled to wait. At that moment the bucket was more important than her pride.
James lifted Terrwyn’s hair and bathed her face. The pitching and rolling had subsided as they moved out of the storm. It appeared her attacks of sickness had lessened. Though her skin was pale as cream, it no longer had the greenish tinge of the English moors. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks.
He worked to support his anger but found it weakened as soon as he saw her wee self tormented by the ship’s movement. He supposed it was a good thing he hadn’t known she had smuggled onto the ship until after they set sail. His conscience would not have allowed him to set her off alone in Cardiff’s port. Nor could he have returned with her to his mother’s home. But damn, he would have liked a choice.
“Water,” Terrwyn pleaded.
“Nay, I have something better for you.” James lifted a flask of wine to her lips. “Captain Russo’s compliments to my shy bride.”
Terrwyn choked on the wine, then swallowed. The décolletage of her gown twisted as she sat up, exposing flesh that made his mouth water.
“Easy, Signora Frost, I would so hate to lose another night of wedded bliss.”
“I never told him we were newly wedded.” Her face scrunched in concentration, she gripped his arm to keep from falling over as the ship took an unexpected roll to the side.
“He concluded that you are too innocent in the ways between and man and a woman and feared our wedding bed. He is also of the opinion you are spoiled and have a sour temper. He pities me.” Grinning despite himself, he laughed at her outrage. He handed her a rag and dried mint to rub across her teeth.
Terrwyn gave her mouth a vigorous scrubbing and spat out the foul taste into the pail. “Suppose he thinks you should beat me?”
“Aye, ’twas his idea at first.” He turned his back to dip the bathing cloth in the fresh water. “Changed his mind when he saw you weak as an infant. He fancies the notion that I have not wooed you enough. And beating you would only thicken your hide and harden your heart.”
Wringing out the cloth, he moved toward the bed where Terrwyn sat. The color had returned to her face. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkled back at him. He ran his finger
over the scooped neckline of her gown.
“’Tis a lovely gown you are wearing. The woodland brown suits you. Though if I were dressing you, I would prefer less material.”
“Would you now?” Terrwyn batted at his hand. “I would not have thought you were a man of high fashion.” She caught his wrist and pulled him close. “Truth be told, there is a great deal I’m thinking I don’t know.”
James lifted her hair and let the tresses float through his fingers. “’Tis a pity, your not knowing your husband.”
Warming to his game of words, Terrwyn slid over, allowing him room to climb next to her. “Hmm, I cannot even speak of your likes and dislikes.”
James stayed his ground and stood in front of her, his thighs braced on either side of her hips. He leaned in and played the warm cloth over her skin. The water streamed from her neck, dipping into her cleavage.
Terrwyn sucked in her breath as he caught her neck with his teeth. He nipped at the tender place behind her ear. He brushed her lips lightly with his, then urged her to open her mouth. When she complied, he slid his tongue in, sucking and diving in for more. He fondled her over the down-soft woolen dress. Rubbing her nipples in circles, he brushed his nails over her aroused flesh.
Terrwyn moved to help James locate the ribbons that pulled the bodice taut around her ribcage. With a gentle tug the bow untied. The bodice slid off her shoulders and down to her waist.
James released her mouth, slowly trailed kisses down her neck and paused over her collarbone. Terrwyn grabbed the back of his head, urging him to the crest of her breast. She arched her back to receive his full attention. James complied with her urging and sucked, scraping his teeth over her skin. His thumb worked her other breast, rolling over her nipple.