Page 79 of The Stag & The Owl
“Hello, the camp,” a man’s voice called fromthe road.“It’s Niels and Grant, Laird Owen’s men.We come asfriends.”
Roger’s men looked to Roark, who relaxed hisstance as two men on horseback rode into the clearing.
“Is it Alina?”Roark asked as theydismounted.“Is she all right?”
“The princess is fine as far as we know,”Niels said, nodding to Roger’s men, whose stances had relaxed, ifnot their grips on their weapons.“Last we saw, she was sailingsafely away on theTrade Wind.”
“Then what are you doing here?”Roark said.“Not that I’m not glad to see you.”
“Laird Owen wanted someone at your trial tospeak for the MacLeods,” Niels said.“So here we are.”He held hisempty hands up to Roger’s men, palms up, as did Grant, though theyboth had short swords sheathed at their waist belts and long swordson their saddles.“We’re not here to interfere with you takingRoark back to your laird.In fact, our laird’s expressly forbiddenit.”He lifted his chin toward his and Grant’s bulging saddlebags.“We’ve brought extra food supplies.Figured yours were growing thinby now.”
Scott sheathed his long sword and stepped upto Niels.“I’m Scott,” he said, offering Niels his hand.“Welcome.”
***
Alina was perched in the crow’s nest of theTrade Wind, scanning the open sea with Roark’s spyglass andseeing nothing but the late morning sun’s light reflecting off thewater.Lowering the glass, she stared out over the vast expansewithout really seeing, her gaze as vacant as the hole in her chest.She missed Roark so much her heart actually ached.She’d heard ofpeople and animals dying of a broken heart, but had never reallybelieved it possible.Now she knew it was.
She’d almost called out for the captain tostop the ship and let her off at least ten times before they’dsailed out of the firth and into the open sea.To find a port townand beg, buy, or steal a horse and go after Roark.To try to gethim free of Roger’s men.Yet she’d ended up clamping her mouth shutevery time.
Going after him, trying to free him, would’vegone against his given word.She wouldn’t do that to him.Worse, ifshe did try and got caught and hauled back to Roger, theneverything they’d done, everyone they’d asked favors of, would havebeen for nothing.So, she’d said nothing.
She’d paced the ship’s deck like a madwomanfor the first day, and climbed up to the crow’s nest the second,and that’s where she’d been every day since, searching the sea andmissing Roark.
If she closed her eyes, she could see hisshining like rain in moonlight, pouring heat and desire into her.She could see his slow, easy, melting grin, could feel his stronghands roaming over her skin, his hot, throbbing cock filling herbody and soul.
She could hear his deep, resonant voicetelling her he loved her.Only her.His lady owl.Then she wouldsqueeze her eyes tight to keep her tears from spilling.Tears thatwouldn’t do her or Roark any good.If theTrade Windmade itto Sea Ridge in good time, she could sail back to the North Shorewith her father and defend Roark against Roger.If the winds didn’thold and they didn’t make it back in time…
Alina shook her head and looked steadfastlyeast, refusing to even consider what could happen.She couldn’tbear to think of a world without Roark in it, even if it wasn’twith her.
She laid a hand over her barren womb, thegrief she still felt at the loss of a babe she’d never had nearlydoubling her over.She knew if, by some miracle, Roger let Roarklive, he would likely be forced to marry Gwyneth.It would beGwyneth who bore his children.Yet as much as that possibility toreat her, at least he would still be alive.That was whatmattered.
She glanced down at the captain and crewgoing about their duties.They’d all been nothing but polite andaccommodating to her the four days they’d been at sea, and hadturned a corner of the hold into her own private little antechamberwith a hammock she’d gotten little sleep in.She sighed, wonderingif she’d ever sleep well without Roark next to her again.The lastthree nights at Silver Water Keep, when they’d been able to sleepthrough the nights together, had been a wonderful gift.One shesilently sent out her thanks to Laird and Lady MacLeod for.
Lifting the spyglass, she put it to her eye,scanning the sea without really expecting to see anything, butneeding something, anything, to occupy her mind.A dark spotblinked in and out of sight to the northeast and Alina held thespyglass steady, watching as the spot slowly grew in size from ablack bobbing blob to the solid mass of a ship’s hull with whitesails overhead.She started to call down to the captain and thenstopped and refocused.There were two smaller ships flanking thelarger one.
“Captain Wallis,” she yelled and pointed.“There’s a trading ship flanked by two long-boats heading our wayfrom the northeast.”
“Longboats?”he yelled up at her.“Northernlongboats?”
Alina took another look through the spyglass.“By the looks of them, aye, Northern long-boats.”Warships.
“Have they seen us?”
“I don’t know.I can’t tell.”
The captain gave orders to turn theTradeWindsouth.Alina watched with growing dread as the ship andthe longboats turned south as well.
“They’ve not only seen us,” she called downto the captain.“They’re coming after us.The longboats are gainingon us.”
TheTrade Windwas already at fullsail and was still no match for longboats being oared by ten andtwo burly Northmen, especially when the wind chose to die down to agentle breeze.
“Damnation.”What was it with the wind onthis cursed sea?
The longboats were closing in fast enough shedidn’t need the spyglass to watch them.Below her, the crew startedreadying for a fight, bringing up long and short swords andpositioning themselves along the rails with bows and arrows.Alinapalmed the hilt of her waist blade, a paltry weapon against a manwith a sword, though it would at least give her the choice oftaking her own life before a marauder was able to climb the mast tothe crow’s nest.She could still end up a slave in some king’shousehold, or more likely held for ransom once the Northmen foundout who she was.Either way, she would lose her chance to saveRoark.
She put the spyglass back to her eye andfocused on the man standing at the prow of the nearest longboat.Abig, barrel-chested Northman with short-cropped hair and a squarejaw whose gaze was as sharp as honed steel even from adistance.
“Uncle Bors?”
