chapter 19

A gentle knock on the door startled Morwen from her thoughts, her mind replaying the conversations from earlier.

The door creaked open slowly, a long shadow casting against the far wall. There in the dark of the doorway, stood Malachi.

Captain Malachi stepped into the room, silently closing the door behind him. His gaze wandered across the small room, taking in the battered, but well-maintained furniture and the sparse decorations that adorned the walls. He cleared his throat, forcing the awkward silence to crack. "I know we haven't had much time to talk," Malachi paused, running a hand through his hair. Morwen's dark hair hung over her pale cheeks, her eyes focused on him. "Yes."

"Indeed," Captain Malachi agreed. Silence fell between them again, each battling their nerves and feelings. Malachi shuffled in place, thinking of something else to say. Morwen sighed, preparing herself. "We have met before the battlefield, haven't we?" she questioned, clasping her hands over her knees and folding her legs beneath her. "Indeed" echoed Malachi, then changed his tone. "We have."

Morwen cocked her head at him and lowered her lashes. Malachi waited, tension twisting in his chest. "The first time, You were there at the summer festival in Idrea," she replied. "You were watching me from the shadows."

Morwen's lips parted and parted as she drew in a shaky breath. There it was. The truth revealed in the dim candlelight. "And after that?"

Malachi felt his stomach flip flop as he felt the wave of truth knock him off balance. "I...I found you. Many times." he replied.

"Were you there during the attack?" she asked.

"Not exactly." he took a step toward the bed.

"Not exactly?" she queried.

"I had departed shortly after the party ended. "I had been summoned back to Vara'ack." he took another step closer, placing himself within arm's reach. "I wasn't there when the attack happened."

Morwen felt her shoulders relax with relief, the man standing before her was not responsible for the slaughter of her village.

Malachi struggled with what to say next. "There's more, isn't there?" she asked, her voice breathy and on the edge of begging. Her eyes searched his face for an answer.

Malachi inhaled a deep breath, "Yes, there is more."

"I don't understand. Why did I see you in my dreams?" she pleaded, a tear rolling down her cheek. "How can you haunt me?"

"It's not like that, Morwen." Malachi struggled to control the waver in his voice.

Morwen stood up in one fluid movement and paced toward the window, throwing it open, and felt the night's cooling breeze on her skin. She took another deep breath and turned back to face Malachi. "Tell me how?"

Captain Malachi felt the lump in his throat thicken, threatening to choke him. "I...I don't know, we are connected."

Morwen's face transformed into a determined glare as she pressed further for answers. "I have seen you in my dreams before, we talked. It felt so real." her voice trailed off as the memories washed over her, and heat crept up her neck.

Malachi pushed aside his concerns as he struggled to make sense of the odd events. He considered telling her about the kiss he had stolen from her in the dream world and how he wanted to grab her in his arms again. No, that will only further complicate things, he thought.

Malachi changed his tactic and shifted uncomfortably.

"You should learn how to use this." He said running his fingers along the blade of the sword lying on the table beside the bed.

" What?!" Morwen yelped.

"I can teach you, I am pretty good with a sword you know." Captain Malachi explained as she hesitantly sat down on the bed. Malachi spent a few minutes showing her the proper way to hold the weapon and to keep the sharp pointy side away from her delicate flesh. Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her and adjusting her grip. He moved her fingers in place, his touch surprisingly warm on her skin. Once he was sure she had the basics down, he handed the sword back to her and helped her up off the bed.

In one quick motion, he backed up a couple of steps and raised his blade, adopting a defensive stance. They danced around each other, and a playful grin creased his lips. Captain Malachi could not help but feel aroused watching Morwen move, knowing the strength behind her beautiful movements. After a moment, he swung at her. Feeling the tip of his blade flick at her legs. If she was faster and a good fighter, she would have avoided that. Morwen held her stance as Malachi raised his blade to swing once again. The light reflecting off her face in a glimmer and soft hues.

This time she sidestepped his cut and moved in closer. Captain Malachi's eyes widened in delight. Pleased to see her adapt her strategy. Again, his body bumped into her, intentionally. Keeping his sword hand still, his free hand darted to her hand gripping the sword. Securing his hand over hers, he nudged her with his body, forcing her other arm forward. In one swift motion, he disarmed her and stepped into her space. This time there was no sword between them. Only inches separated them and Morwen could feel her heart thumping in her chest, her blood rushing in her veins.

"See?" Malachi tilted his head, leaning closer. "Easy to disarm you."

She nodded her head in affirmation.

"Again, and this time hold tighter." His eyes locked with hers, their fingers intertwined over the sword. Captain Malachi couldn't help but flash a smirk at her as she twisted her wrists.

Their feet shuffled back and forth, his hips bumping against her side. Their swords clashed, sending sparks through the air. Finally, Captain Malachi managed to capture her sword with his blade. Holding both their swords steady, Malachi backed away.

Morwen smiled in triumph, her heart fluttering wildly.

Captain Malachi couldn't stop the image from forming of her gasping and writhing under him in the throes of passion.

Morwen licked her lips subconsciously, her throat dry and hoarse. The sight caused a thrill to shoot through the warrior. A low growl escaped his lips, his desire taking the fore. Captain Malachi dropped his sword to the ground in a noisy crash. Morwen stepped back, placing her own weapon carefully on the floor.

"What's wrong?" Her eyes travelled from the bulge in his pants, to the stony expression on his face.

"You." He growled, running his fingers through her short dark hair, forcing her eyes to meet his.

There was something animalistic, almost predatory about his actions.

Morwen swallowed hard as her face flushed. "What about me?"

"I should go, it's late." He said turning, his hand dragging along her cheek and drifting down her soft neck. Heat crackled between them, the tension palpable.

Captain Malachi jerked his hand back as though he'd been burned by the dark-haired woman's touch.

"We will talk tomorrow to make plans about our journey," Malachi said.

"Ok..." she mumbled as he left the room.

***

Captain Malachi led the way, his form a silhouette in the early dawn light.

They crept towards the docks, careful to avoid detection. A hazy mist clung to the ground, the sun just beginning to burn it off. The fishermen were out preparing their wares, too preoccupied with readying for the day to spot the small group as they made their way toward a ship near the end of the docks.

"Malachi, wait," Zack called, his voice low and urgent. The captain froze in his steps.

Zack surveyed their surroundings and turned his head towards a nearby ship, "There," Zack said nodding in the direction of the vessel. It was medium sized ship that did not stand out from the other vessels, In thick white letters read "the Black Moon" across the bow.

They made their way quickly towards the boat, Captain Malachi checking back on Morwen, who was lagging behind. She looked flustered and winded, probably due to her lack of sleep the night before. Not wanting to cause suspicion they moved faster. The group stood huddled near the gangplank.

There were no signs of anyone on board, a single lantern hung unlit atop a post, swaying in the brisk, morning breeze.

Zack tugged at the rope, tugging the gangplank, before running across the narrow board. "Wait here," he whispered, disappearing into the hold of the ship. Malachi grabbed the plank and held it stable. Zack appeared again, climbing up the gangplank.

Malachi held his breath and kept his gaze trained on the path behind them. Morwen placed a hand on the captain's shoulder, gripping his shirt as if to pull him behind her for protection.

"The ship is empty," Zack whispered, relief coating his words.

"Ships have captains and crews, they all eventually show up," Malachi said, the hint of suspicion still lingering in his voice. Zack's posture remained ridged. His eyes scanned the horizon, looking back on their path, the fear of being followed nagged at his sense of self-preservation.

Morwen cleared her throat and stepped forward. "Shall we get on the ship? We wouldn't want to leave port without saying goodbye to the crew," she said gesturing toward the gangplank and moving toward the opening.

"So," Morwen began as she walked the deck.

Malachi looked up from his work and then toward the sun, high above them. "We should have a course plotted soon and we will be sailing south," he replied.

Morwen turned toward the dock and said, "Have you ever sailed before?"

Malachi chuckled at her. "Yes, Miss Morwen, I have," he stated. Morwen stood silent. She knew she had never seen a ship before and they didn't have a crew, the idea of commandeering one to sail away on did not sit well with her.

However, there did not seem to be any other choice. They watched the horizon grow smaller with each passing minute, the small crowds below getting smaller.

"We should probably come up with a new name for the ship, if anyone recognizes it they will send guards and soldiers after us," Zack said with a serious look on his face.

Morwen smiled and nodded in agreement. Captain Malachi rolled his eyes and turned to walk away.

Captain Malachi stalked across the deck, he had shed his uniform shirt. Dressed in a breechcloth and breeches, his strong tan chest dripping with sweat as he pulled on the rigging of the sails. Morwen watched the muscles of his back ripple as he moved. He turned, he gave her a dimpled smirk. Morwen blushed, her lips curling into a smile.

From across the deck, Morwen saw Zack looking at them and walked over. She saw a worried look flash across Zack's face and said, "Everything alright?"

Zack tried to mask his concerned expression.

"I still don't know how to feel about him," he said, motioning towards Malachi.

"I think he's good. War can make a man do things he would normally never do," Morwen said, trying to convince Zack.

Zack took a deep breath and crossed his arms. "For now, I will accept your judgment on him," he said.

"Well, there isn't much else you can do," Morwen said chuckling under her breath.

The day stretched on as their minds and bodies were busy with work. Once the sun began to hang lower in the sky, they found their way below deck. The hold of the ship was a large, cavernous space lined with stacks and stacks of cargo. Off to the left side, there was a stack of storage bins, similar to barrels but long and narrow. These must be the gun decks, Morwen thought.

Further in, underneath the quarterdeck, a series of wooden ladders lined the inner walls of the ship leading down to a second level. The lower holds were smaller than above decks but the ceiling was significantly higher, allowing the passage of tall wheeled wagons.

Morwen spotted a small stairway heading even further downwards, "We should check down there," she called out to her companions.

Captain Malachi eyed the winding staircase before them and followed Morwen below deck.

"It smells like leather," Morwen wrinkled her nose as the scent engulfed them. The hold was dark and stale, and her boots echoed as she walked.

Boxes were lining the hull and the small storeroom was chock-full.

"I have an idea," Morwen said, her eyes sparkling in the darkness as she flicked a match alight. She lowered it toward a glass lantern, it sparked as the flames kissed the oil-soaked wick, illuminating the small cabin in warm yellow light.

"Ooof," Malachi's foot connected with an upturned bucket on the floor, sending it careening into the wall. "There are some bolts of cloth stacked back there. We could use them as an extra disguise."

Morwen pondered his idea for a moment before turning back to the small storeroom and pushing aside a barrel.

"Hey Zack, I need your help," she said as a faint grunting emerged from behind the bulkhead. "Here, see that line of wood on the floor. Help me lift it up."

Captain Malachi rushed over and reached across Zack to help Morwen. Together, they lifted the makeshift hatch and ducked under the low opening. Morwen twisted and bent her slim body into the confined crawl space, lantern in hand. At the end of the room stood a small cabinet.

"Look what I found!" Morwen's face beamed as she emerged from the cramped space. Her face was dusted in a fine layer of cobwebs and flakes of old paint.

She clutched the black leatherbound logbook, brimming with excitement. "Let's see who our secret benefactors are."

The wind was brisk as they made their way above deck. Sunset was closing in fast.

The colors of the sky just starting to merge and Morwen held her hand up to guard her vision.

Captain Malachi's gaze was transfixed on the horizon as the sun rested on the sea.

Gold rays glittered, fire cast shadows, and Morwen drew in a sharp breath as the sun set, casting the world into darkness.

He met her gaze as the temperature grew cool, the breeze kicked up and the ocean began to turn angry.

Morwen's gaze raked along the dark rolling waves, her dark hair was wild around her head, "I don't know much about sailing, but it looks like a storm is coming," she said softly.

A slight smirk tugged at Malachi's lips. He pulled off his jacket and sauntered towards the helm, an aura of calm emanating from him. He gazed upward, letting the droplets roll over his face, before letting his eyes fall on the slender, dark-haired woman watching him from the opening in the quarterdeck. "You are mistaken, this is the calm before the storm." He turned the wheel sharply, a loud metallic whining noise emanating from the grooved ring they used to move it.

Morwen watched in awe as the ship rocked precariously on the waves. She could feel the vessel giving into the force of the water surrounding it. The weather outside was not fit for anyone to be standing deck, she realized, so Morwen made her way down, below the safety of the quarterdeck, seeking out their small sleeping space.

The ship was tossing violently as the storm raged, the wood of the boat creaking and swaying, rocking Morwen about.

Exhaustion settled in Morwen's bones. She peeled away the clothing clinging to her body and perched on her cot to unlace her boots. Cool, salty air rushed in to fill the dead quiet space, sending a shiver through Morwen's petite body. Her fingers slipped, icy and numb.

She paced her breathing, closing her eyes and imagining herself warm.

She awoke in their cabin to Malachi's frame outlined against the porthole.

"Is it still raining?"

"If anyone is after the ship it will be hard to follow in the storm." He said walking towards the door. "did you find anything in the ledger?"

"Not yet," Morwen replied, pulling herself up off her cot and joining Captain Malachi in the hall.

They made their way into the galley kitchen of the ship. It was situated immediately next to the cabinet storeroom, and they heard the faint but unmistakable sound of scurrying feet. Morwen leaned in close as Malachi placed his mouth close to her ear.

"I think we have an uninvited guest." He whispered, barely audible over the rolling thunder of the storm.

A rat scurried out from behind a barrel, its dark wet fur covering beady, shrewd eyes.

Malachi cocked his arm back and started to launch the knife towards the vile pest.

"Wait," Morwen shot a hand up, narrowly grasping his wrist. "Don't kill it."

They sat alone and waited, the pitter-patter of rain drowned out their conversation. Morwen glanced over the log book and made a surprised noise.

"Oh my..."

"What?" Malachi asked startled.

She turned the book towards him, pointing to the scrawls on the pages. "Take a look."

"I don't know what that means," Malachi muttered, confused.

Morwen rose to her feet, "Don't you see?" Malachi stared blankly. Morwen indicated to the text again, "This symbol is a very specific trading sign. And this" she pointed at a series of scribbles. "This means hidden cargo. And finally, the name on this boat: Fresco."

Malachi blinked.

"Mini fortune," Morwen concluded.

"I do believe you are correct, although to what extent," he raised an eyebrow.

Suddenly Morwen's expression changed. She peered downward, following a trail of mouse droppings leading to a trapdoor in the floorboards. Her gaze darted back to Malachi's.

She crouched low to the floor and pried her nails under the hatch. Malachi did the same on the other side of the trap door. They pulled it open, revealing a hollow area beneath. Morwen leaned in with her lantern, the dim flame illuminating a mosaic of glass bottles.

Morwen stifled a gasp. "It's the smuggled cargo," she breathed.

Their gaze fell to the bottles and then to each other.

She reached to touch a bottle when they heard a gun cock, echoing through the silent room.

Captain Malachi lunged to protect her as Morwen pushed her face closer to the hole, squinting to make out the figure from the shadows, the flame dimming. He must have doused the fire, she thought to herself. She leaned back, turning to face Malachi, their breaths heavy and full of anxiety. Their chests heaved, and their eyes locked with the stranger looming below them in the darkness.

Her chest ached as she breathed, unsure of what to do or how to react. The intruder pulled the trigger, forcing the bullet upward into a sack of flour.

Captain Malachi shoved her back as the white powder rained down.

"Stay here," Captain Malachi demanded. She rubbed the dry substance off her hands and stood. She could hear struggling, followed by a loud crash.

"We mean no harm," Morwen said into the darkness. Her heart was pounding rapidly in her chest and she wrapped her arms around her middle. An icy shiver ran over her skin, making the small hairs on her arms stand up.

A crack of lightning flashed, casting the hold of the ship into flickering light and shadows.

She heard someone cry out, it sounded like a woman.

The ship suddenly jerked under them, knocking Morwen off her feet. The impact sent the lantern soaring towards the wall.

The ship tilted sideways as the galley window broke. Malachi reached for her just as her foot hit the edge of a step and she slipped, plunging through the window, screaming. Her fingers grasped and clawed at the edge of the wall, fighting for purchase. Salt and panic burned in her throat, drowning her in its heat. Malachi grasped the back of her shirt, pulling with all his might. The icy waters hit her like a brick wall, painfully cold.

Malachi pulled her back onto the ship, they both lay gasping and writhing, clutching at each other.

"Thanks," Morwen croaked.

"Don't mention it," Malachi whispered, pulling her back to her feet. Their soaked bodies touched, neither one willing to lose contact.

The cabin door swung open, and a bolt of lightning cracked overhead, illuminating Zack's tall, lean frame.

A young woman lay unconscious next to him.

Morwen and Malachi glanced at the unconscious figure, the bags beneath her eyes revealed exhaustion, as were the limp curls of her long black hair.

"Who is she?" Morwen's voice was rough from the salt of the ocean.

"And why was she with the hidden cargo?

"That's a good question," Zack turned the stranger over. "Why don't we ask her?"

"You can't just ask an unconscious woman that."

The stranger stirred and lifted her chin to meet their gaze. Her pale green eyes were small, alert, and defensive.

"Who are you? Why were you lurking in the hold of our ship?" Malachi asked, folding his arms across his muscular chest, eyeing her carefully.

"This ship isn't yours" the girl hissed in a thick foreign accent.

Zack laughed softly and said, "And it isn't yours either!"

Morwen could see they wouldn't get anywhere with this bickering. "Do you have a name or are we just supposed to call you stranger?" She asked gently, trying her best to diffuse the situation and divert the path of the conversation.

"Eira," the girl replied.

"Eira?" Morwen whispered. "What's your surname?"

"Lund," she spat the words out.

Morwen studied the woman in front of her. She was covered in layers of dirt and dust, caked into her clothes and in patches throughout her curly black hair. Clearly, she hadn't seen a bar of soap in a while. What were they supposed to do with her now?

Morwen leaned in towards Captain Malachi and whispered, "We need to find the captain's quarters and try to read the ledger."

The corners of Malachi's lips tugged upward, bringing out the scars on his cheek alight, "

"What do you have in mind? Send her down there until we get where we need to go?"

Morwen rolled her eyes and poked him playfully. "Don't act like you haven't made up your mind about her already," Morwen teased.

" Zack question the prisoner, find out as much as you can," Malachi ordered, reaching for the handle of the next door and stepping in.

Eira tried to spit at him as he left.

"Talk now, or we'll starve you," Malachi called through the crack of the door.

Eira eyed the Morwen standing by the wall and with narrowed eyes looked back at the interrogator standing in front of her. Zack gazed down at her, his eyes met with her piercing green eyes. Her expression twisted, her eyes flashing with contempt.