Page 4 of The Sea Witch
Everyone turned to regard the brigantine, where a lantern drifted back and forth across the upper deck, and another figure stood at the head of the lowered gangplank.
“Two men,” Jane said acidly. “A trusting lot, to keep so few on watch.”
“This isn’t Boston or Charleston.” Alys studied the ship. “Not much fear of piracy here in Norham. Yet we’ll need surprise and silence—and I’ve got a plan to give us both. Gather close and listen.”
There were gasps and more uneasy murmurs as she explained her scheme, yet Polly and Cecily nodded as Alys detailed what would be required. Slowly, the other women added their own nods.
“We’re in agreement, then?” Alys looked at each of them in turn, making certain she took everyone’s opinion into consideration. “No going back after this. Either we succeed, or this is the end of our freedom—and our lives.”
A moment’s silence fell, followed by a whispered chorus of “Aye.”
“We trust you, Alys,” Cecily said, pinning up her hair.
Alys breathed in sharply. “That might not be wise. You trusted me when you asked me to teach you to sail, and behold, we’re about to become fugitives.”
“Better fugitives than anyone’s forced peon.” Polly’s mouth twisted. “They tell us it’s for our own good, but they say it with their boots on our necks.”
“Or their fists in our faces.” Jane touched her jaw.
Red glittering sparks curled out from Polly’s and Jane’s chests. Sparking magic rose up in the other women, sharp and fiery-hued from their anger, casting long dancing shadows against the walls of the dock’s warehouses.
“Time for our fury later,” Alys said tersely. “Right now, we’ve got to dim our light. Keep unwanted eyes off us.”
The magic faded, leaving them in the darkness of the wharf.
“We won’t be dim for much longer,” Alys assured them. “Those swimming with me, our skirts have to come off.”
A moment later, the group broke apart. Without long skirts hampering their movements, Alys and five others slunk to the dock’s edge before slipping into the water. The cold stole her breath, but the welcome embrace of the sea gave it back. It was a homecoming after the fear and sharp edges of fleeing the village.
She gave one quick wave to those remaining in the shadows ashore.
Alys and her allies softly paddled around the ship’s hull. Her movements were hindered by the coil of rope she’d draped around her arm and concentrating on not dropping the knife held between her teeth. Yet, she’d started swimming when she was a small girl splashing in quiet marshy inlets, pretending to be a mermaid. Even then, being near the water had gathered currents of gleaming energy around her legs—until her mother had slapped her face, saying that no one could ever,eversee Alys in the water, if that kind of magic happened when she swam.
But the warning wasn’t enough. Tonight, Alys was condemned as a witch. Anger kept her from being paralyzed by fear as she swam as quietly as possible.
Moving through the water, more and more power surged into her body, brought forward by seawater and all the living beings that dwelled in its depths. Just as they had when she’d been a girl, glimmers formed around her body as she swam, currents of stars within the water. She swam faster, and kept to the far side of the ship away from the night watch.
The brigantine creaked and groaned as it slept at anchor. It was a beauty of a vessel, well-maintained and, from the looks of things, recently careened so that all the barnacles and seaweed had been cleaned from the ship’s bottom. She would be a lovely thing to command and take far across the sea, to places Alys had only dreamt of.
If Alys lived. Now, she set her mind and muscles to climbing up the ship’s starboard side, which was hidden in darkness. Like spiders, she and the others scaled upward, finding handholds where they could to haul themselves higher and higher, until they all reached the gunwale at the top of the hull.
Holding tightly as her heart pounded in her ears, careful to keep from being spotted by the watch, she peered over the rail. She pulled more magic from the night to swath her and the other women in darkness, hiding them.
A man in the loose clothing of a merchant seaman slowly paced the length of the upper deck, holding aloft a horn lantern, while a second watch stood at the top of the gangplank. Though their faces were indifferent, ignoring the sentries’ threat would be a fatal mistake.
“Avast,” the one stationed by the gangplank said as steps sounded on the wooden board. “Who goes there?”
“Only a concerned villager,” Cecily answered, coming up the ramp. Light from the horn lantern gleamed on her freckled pretty face as she climbed the gangplank. She smiled winninglyas she nodded toward the covered basket on her arm. “A long and hungry night you have of it, lads, so I’ve brought you bread and cheese from my own larder.”
As she spoke, the other sentry neared her, his expression both cautious and curious.
“Cap’n wouldn’t like us having grub when we should be keeping watch,” the first man said.
Cecily laughed with the same laugh Alys had heard her use when accompanying her father on visits around the parish. “As if there’s harm in taking a small bite. I’d wager you’ll be sharper with a morsel of food in your bellies. Come, I’ve good cheddar and bread made with the whitest and finest of flours.”
While Cecily chattered, Alys and the other women noiselessly pulled themselves over the gunwale and onto the upper deck. They slunk toward the watchmen, whose backs were turned and were far too absorbed in a winsome local girl to notice half a dozen wet, anxious, but angry women creeping toward them, leaving gleaming wet footprints upon the planks.
“Here,” Cecily said brightly. She opened the basket. “Have a look for yourself.”
