Chapter Eleven
A long low fog obscured the coast, so the ship hove to and dropped anchor well out to sea. Pandy had watched the crew lower the remaining skiff before securing a great panel of rope webbing to the railing and dropping it over the side. She and Harad were to descend to the tiny craft below by scaling the crisscrossed lines. Two seamen scrambled down before them and waited, while others shipboard held the skiff’s bow and stern lines to keep the small boat from drifting. The tiny craft jounced against its tethers, responding to the sea and the impact of the sailors jumping onto it. As each one arrived, he paused, feet spread, knees bent and arms outstretched, until the boat’s motions subsided and he was able to stand easily. When the two grasped the mesh by its bottom and were holding it securely, they signaled those above.
“Would you like some help?” asked Harad, close enough that Pandy could feel his breath hot against her neck.
She bunched up her shoulder and squirmed away. When she turned back to look, his face was scant inches from hers.
“No, thank you,” she replied with as hard and as angry a look as she could muster, pushing him away. “I can manage just fine on my own.”
He grinned and began to reply, but before his lips could form the first syllable, Pandy, wearing her mother’s pack, grasped the ship’s rail and scampered up, arriving on her knees. Maintaining her grip, she dropped onto the ship’s outboard trim. As Harad snatched at her hand, she dropped onto the mesh and began climbing down.
“Stay away from me,” she warned.
Harad straddled the railing and started after her. With every foot she descended, Pandy grew less certain, increasingly afraid because the outcomes she saw constantly shifted between what would happen if she maintained a steady descent and the consequence of losing her footing or becoming entangled.
Over the preceding days, the crew had watched over her. Even the captain seemed inclined to be charitable, waiving the fee for her passage and ordering the bosun to insure her safety. While the captain expressed doubts as to the wisdom of putting her ashore, he could not keep her aboard indefinitely. So, even though he gave Harad a distrustful eye, he elected to accept the stranger’s assurance he intended to help her.
“She will be fine, Captain,” Harad had promised. “I will look after her as if she were my own.”
Pandy knew the sailors below would guard her until they reached shore, but visions of the journey ahead, more chilling than the morning’s icy breeze, added to her fear. Glimpses of the day’s possibilities and the almost real sensation of Harad’s grasping hands, drove her down the ropework. Ever faster she went, eyes flicking from the skiff’s moving deck to Harad’s boots closing in. Struggling to keep the rucksack shouldered, aware of increasing condensation on the mesh, she feared the possibility of a catastrophic fall almost as much as she feared Harad catching up with her. Halfway down, stretching for a rung, Pandy’s foot slid into space. She shrieked as fingers, numbed by the morning chill, struggled to hang on.
“Take my hand, darling,” came his syrupy voice.
Pandy gasped.
“You don’t want to fall, do you?”
Looking up, she saw his hand reaching out for her. His toothy smile and piercing eyes leered at her. Like a wolf, she thought, and Harad’s smile widened.
“Like a wolf?” he said. He laughed and Pandy froze. “Yes, my dear,” Harad said. “I know your thoughts.” When she did not respond, he added, “You might as well let me help. You can’t get away. I can follow you anywhere.”
Terrified, she tore her eyes from his and assessed the distance to the bobbing deck below, barely hearing his next remark.
“Thinking of jumping? I wouldn’t advise it. You don’t want to injure your pretty self, do you?”
All it took was his fingers brushing hers. She let go and braced for the impact that never came as four strong hands arrested her fall. The sailors righted her with care and set her down gently.
“Gracious, little one! Are you all right?” the older one asked.
Grasping his collar with both hands, she pulled him close and whispered. He eyed her for a moment, then nodded.
“We can do that, Missy. Have no fear.” He looked aloft, and his voice became gruff. “Better come down before we shove off,” he said, then turned back to Pandy. His scowl became a smile and his tone softened. “Let me take that,” he said, easing the pack from her shoulders and seating her on a thwart spanning the boat’s hull. “You will ride to shore by my side,” he assured.
Once Harad boarded, the seamen wasted no time getting under way. Over Harad’s objections, they seated him behind Pandy, his back to both her and the shore, and handed him a pair of oars.
With three men rowing, they made good time. The air was light, so the sea undulated gently. Nonetheless, the skiff reacted to the water far more than Pandy would have liked. While the ship had knifed smoothly through all but the severest chop, the tiny boat rose and fell with the slightest provocation and her stomach grew queasy. Suspecting Harad might be part of her distress, she focused on the hilltops poking through the mist—the only stationary objects in a vast sea of motion—trying to ignore both her nausea and her fears.
At one point, Harad glanced over his shoulder.
“You’re as green as a tesberry,” he laughed.
“Shut it,” Pandy’s new ally ordered.
His shipmate added, “I wish we could accompany them ashore.”
“But you can’t,” Harad sneered.
“I’ll tell you what I can do,” said the man beside Pandy. “If you don’t put your back into your rowing and keep your mouth shut, I can toss you overboard.”
Outmatched by the larger pair, Harad closed his mouth and returned to his task. And though he was facing away, Pandy imagined she could feel his thoughts fixed upon her as every stroke of the oars carried her closer to shore and her next critical moment.
The sound of hull scraping sand, followed by a thud, announced landfall. The seamen bounded into the water and grabbed the hull.
“Out with you,” the younger one snapped at Harad. “Help us beach her.”
When Pandy started to rise, her ally raised a hand.
“Keep your seat, Missy. The water’s too deep yet and you’ll catch a chill. I’ll carry you ashore when it’s time.”
Despite his assurance, her fear continued to mount, and her breathing grew shallow and quick. Try as she might to see past this minute, the future came as a jumble of vignettes, each one as likely as the next, and she wanted to cry. When, at last, her ally lifted her and her pack, holding both above the water, he said softly enough only she could hear, “Don’t fret, now. You’ll be all right. When I set you down, don’t look back. That man will not follow you. I promise.”
“But where do I go?”
“Do you see that little rill pouring down the rock face?”
Pandy looked to shore at a steep wall of rock. Beyond the narrow, almost non-existent stretch of sand, the coast rose to near vertical, fading into the mist in all directions. Low clouds concealed the summit and she felt as if the world were suddenly very small indeed. Uncertain what she was looking for, she scanned the cliff’s rough, almost black surface until she discerned a fissure with a narrow silver ribbon cascading down. She nodded and looked into her friend’s deep brown eyes.
“I know,” he said. “It looks awfully steep, but it can be climbed. My daddy and I did just that when I was a lad—more than once, I might add.” He glanced at the pack she had brought adding, “Although, I don’t know how you will manage with all that gear.
“Now that I think of it, take a minute to look through whatever is in there and take out only what you can put in your pockets. Be quick about it, then go.”
Although her hands shook, Pandy started rummaging. After a minute, she tightened her mouth and looked up at him.
“There’s nothing I really need.”
“Then leave it all. Keep climbing and don’t look back,” the seaman cautioned. “You might not see a pretty sight.”
In that instant she understood what he intended, because she could see herself climbing her way to safety. She shut out what would happen on the beach and gave her ally a smile.
“Thank you,” she said.
He kissed her forehead and whispered a few more instructions.