Page 29

Set Sail

Adelina strolled along the cobbled path of a small, quiet village. Golden tinges of the setting sun glowed from behind the houses, stretching into a deep purple, then into dark blue, where stars came to life with the first touches of night.

Damir had taken the horses to the stables and paid the stable hand to keep quiet about their whereabouts before they settled into the inn for a few days before continuing their journey south, closer to the ports.

Almost a month had passed since their wedding, and she’d begun to enjoy her life on the road.

There was something comforting about their adventure—or at least, that’s what she called it.

With a swirl of her finger, she relit the dwindling fire torches, no longer needing to utter the spell in order to use her magic .

She met Damir outside the tavern.

“I got some needles and thread from the market before they closed.” She jostled the paper bag in her hand.

Along the way, their clothes had torn on brambles and branches. All four of Damir’s shirts were dotted with holes, and so were hers.

“I’ll start the mending in the morning,” she said as he guided her inside the fire lit tavern.

A bard performed a song while strumming a lute. Patrons sat around tables, beers in hand and laughing.

She smiled, leaning into her husband’s side as they watched from the back of the room. The crackling flames in the hearth warmed her stiff fingers. Taking off her cloak, she draped it over her arm and listened to the bard’s melodic tunes.

A servant carrying a platter of steins, weaved through the crowd towards them. “Care for a drink?”

“Why not?” Damir smiled, handed one to Adelina, then clasped the last one. “Here.”

He placed a couple of coins on the platter.

“Thanks, kindly.” She returned the smile, then made her way around the tables, collecting empty steins.

A chair dragged across the floorboards as a patron rose, swayed, then ventured outside. The rich aroma of roasted meats wafted through the tavern as staff served bowls of food to some of the seated patrons. Adelina’s stomach rumbled.

“Should we order something to eat?”

“Good idea.” He led her to an empty table at the back by the window .

A single candle was positioned in the centre, its light flickering and casting a glow over the wooden surface.

They sat, and while he beckoned the server, Adelina propped her elbow on the table, rested her chin on her palm, and listened to the bard.

∞∞∞

Adelina woke in the middle of the night—silver moonlight streamed through the gap between the drawn curtains of the tavern room. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Padding to the table between the armchairs, she lifted the jug and peered inside. Empty.

She glanced over her shoulder to Damir, who slept soundlessly between the white sheets.

Throwing a blanket around her nightgown, she carried the jug out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Deep voices echoed from downstairs. There was something familiar about that clipped, rumbling tone, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying from her position. Holding her breath, she edged across the floorboards.

“I require information about a woman and a man I believe are travelling through these villages. Mark my word when I tell you I want nothing but the truth.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Filip .

She pressed herself against the wall, hoping to be swallowed by the shadows of the landing .

“Filip does not give empty threats,” the other man sneered. Pyotr.

What in the realm was Pyotr doing with Filip and his guards? Was it possible they knew she was here with Damir?

The innkeeper mumbled something in response, but she didn’t linger to listen.

Pressing lightly on her tiptoes, she re-entered her chamber and locked the door behind her. After placing the jug on the cabinet, she rushed to Damir’s side and shook him awake.

“Wake up, my love,” she whispered.

He jolted and his eyes flashed wide open. “What is it?”

“Filip—he’s downstairs. We need to go. Quickly.” She spun on her heel, threw on her clothes, then grabbed their bags.

Within minutes, Damir was dressed and peering out the window.

“What are you doing?” she said.

“Looking for a way out.” He unlatched it.

“We can’t jump,” she gasped.

“There’s a ridge right outside—we can walk along the roof to the end of the building. I’ll find the safest way for us to jump down. Pass me those bags,” he urged.

She handed them to him, then peered out of the window at the stone ledge. Sucking in a deep breath, she climbed onto the sill, poked her legs through, then eased herself onto the ledge.

Dropping behind her, he followed her along the rooftop. She shuffled each step with consideration and thanked the gods it hadn’t rained .

“Over there.” He pointed to the edge of the roof at the end of the L-shaped building.

Some of the tiles were old, chipped, and weathered, yet none slipped loose under her feet as she made her way across the top. She ignored the tight knots in her stomach and her sweaty palms.

Other than a hoot of a nearby owl, the small village was silent. When she reached the edge of the roof, she lowered herself into a seated position.

“The vines?” She glanced over her shoulder to Damir.

“Good idea. You climb down first, then I’ll pass you the bags,” he said.

She nodded once, spinning around, and gripped the thick vines. With her foot, she tested the strength of the vines before making her descent.

Leaves and flower buds brushed against her. When she was approximately a foot above the ground, she dropped into the mud.

“I’m ready,” she whispered, stretching onto her tiptoes and holding her arms towards Damir.

Kneeling on the roof, he lowered the bags to her, one by one. Once she’d piled them on top of each other, he hurried down the vines.

“This way.” He grabbed their belongings. They kept within the shadows of buildings until they reached the stables. The stable hand was already on his feet, wiping his bleary eyes.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” Damir said. “We must go at once.”

“Be quick about it,” was all the man said as he stood at the entrance, keeping watch.

Inside, Adelina and Damir saddled up as quickly as their sweating hands could manage .

“Up you get.” He offered her a leg up onto her mount, then fastened her luggage to the back of the saddle.

He turned to do the same with his own bags, then lifted himself onto his horse. With a click of his tongue and a gentle shake of the reins, he rode on to the cobbles, Adelina following.

“Thank you.” Damir nodded to the stable hand.

“Wait.” She raised her hand, and with a swipe of her finger, flushed out the lights from the lantern.

In the darkness, they cantered away from the village, leaving Filip and Pyotr behind.

Trembling, she fought to steady her ragged breaths. They’d been close enough to catch her, to imprison her once more.

Clutching her cross amulet, she thanked the gods they’d escaped in time.

∞∞∞

“Tell me where they are.” Filip slammed his fist on the bar—his patience wearing thin. “Adelina Orlova and Damir Litvin.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t have no customers under those names,” the innkeeper’s wife said casually as she wiped the wooden countertop with a cloth.

“You are certain of this?” He narrowed his gaze on her and kept his voice stern.

“Yes, sir. We keep a ledger of all our customers, and they ain’t written on today’s sheet, nor any day this week. I’ll fetch you the book for inspection, if you like,” the woman said, unphased by his tone.

“All right, bring it to me now.”

She shrugged one shoulder, disappeared into the back room, then returned with a large, leather-bound book. Placing it on the countertop, she flipped it open, then spun it around to face him.

“See, no Orlova or Litvin,” she said.

Tracing his finger down the pages, he scanned each name. He turned the page to the previous day. He raised a brow.

“There. I’ve found them,” he said, more so to himself than anyone else. “I recognise the handwriting—it’s Damir’s. I’ve seen enough of his letters to know. Alyona and Kirill Sirodov—an alias, no doubt.”

“You think so?” Pyotr peered over his shoulder. “Let me take a closer look at this. Remember my days as your ledger clerk? It was part of my job to check for counterfeits.”

“No need.” Filip waved a hand to Pyotr. “I might’ve burned the letters, but I recall Damir’s writing style. The Rs have long tails spiking across the page, and some of the Is are not dotted. He has a certain enthusiasm.”

“It’s the personality of the handwriting.” Pyotr chimed. “If you’re certain this is Damir’s, then you’ve found him.”

Filip gave Pyotr a sideways glance. “I much prefer you sober.”

Pyotr’s lips tilted into a fraction of a smile.

“Which room did you assign them?” Filip asked the innkeeper .

The woman returned her gaze to the ledger. “Says here second floor, third room on the right.”

“Guards,” Filip spun around, “Check the room, ensure this lady is telling the truth.”

At once, the guards dispersed through the tavern, ascending the stairs.

“Hey, you can’t barge through here like you own the place,” the innkeeper’s wife complained. “It’s the middle of the night and we have guests upstairs asleep. You’ll need a warrant.”

Filip mindlessly handed her a pouch of coins. “Enough to keep you quiet?”

She eyed the money, then wrapped her fingers around it and she disappeared into the kitchens.

A while later, the thundering footsteps of guards drew closer as they returned to the restaurant area.

“Well?” Filip asked.

“No trace of the girl, sir,” one said.

“They can’t be far—search the village.” Filip marched out of the tavern, then scanned the nearby buildings. She was within his grasp, so close.

∞∞∞

At dawn, Damir and Adelina stopped at the top of a hill overlooking the busy docks and shipyard of the village named Bolvas. The stench of fish wafted on the breeze. She could only imagine the unpleasant smell when they rode closer.