Chapter 24

I t was no hardship to discover if the vessels of The Great Mercia Shipping Company arrived after Georges departed Grimsby on the day past, their hulls washed dark green, flags depicting a peregrine falcon, and sails crisply white.

Neither having anchored in the harbor, the possibility they would remain missing darkened Amaury’s mood. For that, he told himself he had survived far worse and would survive even more.

It is not for you alone to survive, he reminded as he moved among those who plied the waterways and others who required the services of wind- and salt-bitten men. Fira and those who risked coming alongside you must survive.

“Think elsewhere,” he muttered as birds shot their shadows over the wooden walk.

“Chevalier?” Fira said, and he realized she was no longer at his side. Silently rebuking himself for his lengthening stride straining her healing legs, he slowed .

As she drew level, she said, “Where are you to think if not here?”

Lord, did you gift all women with keen hearing? he sent heavenward as he looked to dockside taverns, inns, and shops engaged in brisk trade with the sun at its zenith. She is just like Alainne who ? —

Wrong. Fira was different. Though at times he resented his wife’s ability to work him around to her way of thinking even when he knew it was wrong, he had loved the pretty and kind of her. Though Fira was not without guile, as evidenced by duping her family for being overly protective, she was…

What? Refreshingly unrefined?

“Where are you to think?” she pressed.

He glanced at her and saw she raised eyebrows above spectacles she had donned to look nearer upon the simple meal they ate before continuing to the docks. “Best I think distant from guilt of no benefit to those I promised much and who may now be lost,” he said.

She drew a slow breath. “Perhaps they will?—”

“My lord!” Donal who had trailed them with Georges and Raoul appeared on his opposite side.

For how breathless he was, Amaury halted. And saw the grinning lad’s eyes were on the estuary’s distant mouth.

Hopeful, Amaury followed his gaze to ships coming out of the east as if from France. Though they appeared destined for the Yorkshire side of the Humber and were too distant to identify their flags, unquestionably it was The Pleiades and Orion’s Song .

What he did question was the reason the smaller vessel’s mainsail was down. If damaged in a squall, likely his crew was intact. If pirates were responsible, possibly not. And were the ships in the hands of predators, all the more reason to put in on the northern side of the estuary rather than venture farther to Grimsby for the wine awaiting transport.

“From their northwesterly course, I wager their destination is Ravenser Odd,” Raoul said as he and Georges came alongside. “As it will be quicker for them to reach those docks, whatever befell them can be rectified sooner.”

“Providing our men yet crew them,” Georges voiced what Amaury did not, then grimaced and added, “Regardless, this is a thorn in your boot.”

It was, though not because the ride around the estuary would take well over a day. Since a vessel could be hired to make the crossing in far less time, of greater import was the reputation of the town on that hook of land.

The good of that reputation was Ravenser’s location allowed weary seafarers to sooner disembark and partake of food, drink, lodging, shops, and masterful ship repair. The bad of it, though said to be exaggerated by other port towns envious of its prosperity, was higher crime requiring much vigilance by officers of the law.

Exaggerated or not, as the town was nearer the sea and, therefore, Scotland, it was likelier to be infected by Les Fléaux than Grimsby. Hence, a quandary for Amaury, the need to keep Fira safe vying with reaching his ships and ensuring the safety of his men.

He looked to her and, from her intense regard, guessed she delved what was spoken, and confirmed it when she said, “Since you cannot delay, you will have to take me with you.”

She could not know how much danger that might present, but considering all she had endured and from which she was not fully healed, she should balk. But not Fira Wulfrith. So now the question of whether he could keep her safe.

Confident of the weight of the purse on his belt, he looked to the docks where dozens of vessels awaited their next voyage. Most were exclusive to navigating the estuary, but there were ships whose greater length, width, and depth required harbor anchorage.

Though Amaury’s party must only cross the estuary, since a ship captained by one of good repute offered greater protection, he said to Georges, “To sooner reach Ravenser, we need a ship that can depart within the hour.” He nodded at a nearby tavern whose front told it was for those who did not need to scrape the bottom of their purses to satisfy thirst and hunger. “You know what I require.”

As his man swung away, Amaury instructed Raoul and Donal, “Return to the stable, collect our packs, and see to the quartering of our mounts.”

They departed without asking how long the horses would require such. The same as he, they knew what awaited them across the estuary was questionable. Thus, the stable owner would be paid well and, if funds proved insufficient, would be compensated later with extra coin or possession of what was deemed abandoned.

When Amaury and Fira were all that remained of their party—two among scores traveling the dockside street—she said, “You are taking me with you.”

He inclined his head. “I dare trust no other with Baron Wulfrith’s sister.”

She opened her mouth, closed it.

“Oui, lady?”

Fira stared into a face whose scarring was more visible for sunlight running pale lines above lengthening whiskers. What she nearly expressed before realizing it would sound self pitying was she would not be his problem much longer. Instead, she said, “Will you tell how your face, hands, and other unseen places were scarred—what was done you that had to be ages worse than anything I have suffered? ”

A flush rendering the marks more visible, he rumbled, “May you never know,” then crooked an elbow. “You set the pace, my lady.”

She knew she was to place a hand on his arm as would a respectable maiden. However, wanting in the years ahead to better remember this walk beneath a bluing sky and sparkling sun, and betwixt the sound and sight of soaring birds and movement of water that traveled the world, she hooked an arm through his.

“A slow pace,” she said, and gasped when he hastened her to the side to avoid a lad running toward them, threaded sausages flapping behind him like the tail of an excited dog.

Unsurprisingly, the thief was pursued. Surprisingly, his pursuer was a girl near his age whose eyes flashed and braids flapped. For an apron marked by brown that was surely crimson before drying, likely she was the butcher’s daughter.

“She will catch him,” Fira said as she turned with Amaury to follow the chase.

“If he wishes to be caught.”

Hearing a smile in his voice, she looked up. “Why would he want that?”

“For what you did not see.”

“Which was?”

“An expression that told he enjoyed himself. Too, he moves at a speed I suspect requires less effort than that of which he is capable.”

“Why?”

“A pretty lass, is she not?”

“Aye, and angry.”

“So it appears. Though I know the game in which he engages, having played it in my youth and endured my sire’s reprimands before learning how to avoid being caught, I am uncertain about her degree of participation. ”

“If she participates at all,” Fira said as the youths veered down the alley between the shops of a baker and bookseller.

Feeling Amaury’s shrug against her shoulder, she rued it made her more aware of him than she was of all the places she still hurt—and rue as well what she would miss when they parted that she had told herself would be a small loss should her life be solely devoted to recording family history. No longer. Thus, were it possible Amaury wanted her beyond desire and Hector could be persuaded?—

“We shall never know,” he said.

She feared she had spoken her thoughts aloud, and that his answer to becoming more to each other than his unwilling rescuer to her lady in distress, but his attention remained on the youths. However, even had it turned to this woman who twice chased him with kisses, surely he would not wish to be caught by she who dare not risk passing The Falling Sickness to children born of her body.

Desire was not love, and though love could sink roots into such a fertile garden and thrive as she knew from her brothers’ and sisters’ journeys, none had brought to their marriage an ailment so unsightly the superstitious believed it evil.

“Where has your mind gone?” Amaury brought her back to this beautiful day ripe for the spoiling, whether by her efforts or his enemy’s.

She donned a smile. “A place from which I am happy to return,” she said, then for the allure of his mouth, shifted her attention to ships that required small boats to deliver cargo and passengers to deep water berths. “Do you truly believe any will pull up anchor to make so short a journey?”

“For a good sum, there will be takers. Hence, Georges has only to discover which captain is most trustworthy.” He glanced around at the tavern. “Soon we will know, soon thereafter be aboard, and reach Ravenser before mid-afternoon to learn what befell my ships.”

“And if your enemies are responsible?”

“Then even more imperative I get you to your family, which I will see done before setting my mind to other matters.”

“Vengeance,” she said.

He turned in front of her, halting so abruptly she stepped on one of his boots, then drew her out of the paths of others. “Vengeance that charted my course to end Les Fléaux plays no small part, but other concerns propel me. Though still I intend to do what kept me alive for years, reason has become the spur to my flank.”

“Reason?”

“For the safety of those for whom I am responsible, I will do all I can to eradicate the threat to me that extends to them. Should I succeed, my son’s adopted country will benefit, its waterways and shores freed from pirates bent on weakening France and Scotland’s enemy.”

Liking his hand on her arm , she said, “For that, mayhap you will gain my king’s pardon.”

She saw doubt in his eyes, but he said, “Possibly.”

Longing to assure him he was close to putting his life back together and reclaiming his son, she said, “More possible if my family stands behind you.”

He arched an eyebrow, and she noticed in addition to other facial scars, one dwelt among those dense hairs. And wished again he would share how he came by the injuries, including those she would never see.

“After what I brought down on you and the Wulfen patrol, I expect Baron Wulfrith will be reluctant to aid me,” he said.

“As you are Mace’s sire and also descended from the D’Argents, I believe he and the others will support your cause, even if grudgingly until you are known to them. ”

“It sounds you believe I am known to you.”

Holding her eyes to his, she said, “Known well enough I am certain you are a good man despite the darkness you battle.”

His expression softened. “I hope I prove worthy of your faith,” he said, then his eyes strayed to her lips.

Fira’s heart fluttered. “Amaury?” She spoke only his name, but there was so much in it, even she did not know all she asked of him. And further she was lost when he removed her spectacles and tucked them down her bodice.

Raising her face, he said, “Fira.”

She pushed to her toes. This time when his name left her lips, it was all breath she could hardly afford for him initiating a kiss as if he had needed only the right moment and place. Forget the moment was when the fate of his ships was questionable and the place just off the docks in view of any whose business was far different from theirs. What mattered was his kiss and it being far from one-sided—where desire was concerned.

His expanding chest alerting her his arms had come around her, and realizing she pushed fingers through his silvered hair, she told herself it did not matter if desire was the greatest thing he felt. And accepted it as truth until he drew back and set hands on her shoulders to keep her from continuing what he ended. Though such relations were forbidden, Fira wanted him to want her beyond desire. Thus, woe to this Wulfrith who, until he crossed the sea, had mostly accepted her days would be spent among others in love and whose nights would pass slowly in an uncrowded bed.

As she lowered hands bereft of silvered hair, he rumbled, “I ought not have done that.”

Unable to distance herself, she said, “I am glad you did.”

He released her. “Only because you are untried, vulnerable, and regard me as something of a savior. ”

“Nay, because I feel?—”

“What you feel is desire colliding with infatuation, Fira.”

Though she wanted to protest, she sighed and said, “I hope you are right.” And she did lest her life was beset by unrequited emotion.

“I am right. Now can you walk farther, or do you need to rest while we wait on Georges?”

Her legs were tired, but more she disliked the amount of time spent off her feet since leaving the Barony of Wulfen. “Let us continue.”

This time as they advanced down the wooden walk between docks and businesses, he maintained enough distance to ensure not even their clothes brushed as was best for their respective states of desire.

And what he believes mere infatuation my side of it, she thought, then hoped in this he knew her better than she knew herself.

Looking to the vessels in the harbor, Fira considered soon she would be aboard a ship as never before and sailing across the Humber as likely never again. That should thrill, and it did—though barely for lessons learned since she spied on Amaury and Richarde in the wood.