fell like rain, landing on the deck below. Barren thought about telling him to stop, but he guessed after having the pirate go after a blanket for Larkin, it was probably best to let him chop away at the stick, or he might find the knife in his back.
“Anyone following us yet?” Barren asked Leaf.
“Not that I can tell,” replied the Elf. He gazed around him one last time, not needing the aid of a spyglass. His Elvish sight was far superior to anything manmade.
“Has she said anything?” Barren nodded toward Larkin. She remained against the wall of the ship where Barren had left her after the attack on the Cliffs. Remnants from the previous day still adorned her. Bits of flowers were tangled in her hair. Loose curls fell around her face, and black smudges beneath her eyes. Her dress, dirty and tattered, was spread out before her, and the jewel-toned fabric shimmered in the sun. To his annoyance, Barren still thought she was beautiful.
“Not a word,” said Leaf. “She’s barely moved, and more surprisingly, she hasn’t complained. If I couldn’t hear her breathing, I would assume she was dead. You might want to feed her, though. She is looking pale.”
Barren watched her again; she didn’t look up. It was as if she were deliberately trying to stay focused on anything but the pirates. Barren took another bite of his roll.
“I still marvel at how my brother managed to become engaged to her.”
“I am surprised, too,” replied Leaf. “But only because she would not let him have his way so easily. Perhaps she will be good for William...she might put him in his place.”
“Blasphemous words, Leaf,” said Barren. “Suggesting that anyone can be happy with William Reed. Besides, if she is so independent in thought, how did she let herself be directed into a marriage she did not want?”
“You are not a part of their world, Barren. The only aspect of her life she has no control over is who she marries. Who she loves, well, that is a different story entirely.”
“To marry William would be a waste.”
“I must remind you that Larkin is half-Elf,” Leaf’s sea-green eyes were on her now. “And she can hear every word we are saying. Now...the bread?”
Barren looked down at his roll again. He grabbed the canteen of water sitting next to the helm, and moved away from Leaf. His boots thudded against the deck but even then, Larkin didn’t look up. Barren stood before her for a moment, waiting to see if she would acknowledge him, and yet again, she didn’t move. So the pirate knelt to meet her gaze—her eyes seemed to simmer, and despite the fury aimed at him, he smiled.
“Here,” he held out a piece of bread for her. “Eat.”
She hesitated for a moment and then took a bite of the bread as he held it to her mouth, chewing slowly. After she swallowed, she met his gaze.
“You can untie me. I’m not going anywhere.”
“How can I trust you when you attacked me so viciously last night?”
She smiled cynically. “I can’t swim.”
He didn’t want to believe her, but he remembered her saying that her father refused to let her go to the shore for fear pirates might abduct her. If that were true, why then wouldn’t he teach her how to swim? He took a knife from his boot, and, placing a finger through the ropes around her wrists, he lifted her hands to him. He studied her face for a moment before slicing the ropes and letting her hands fall into her lap, hoping she wouldn’t slap him. “Here,” he handed her the bread. “Eat, then.”
Larkin still stared at him fiercely, nibbling at the bread. Barren laughed at her. “It’s not poisoned, I was eating it.”
When she took a bigger bite from the roll, Barren was satisfied. He rocked back on his heels. “So where did you learn to fight like that? Seems strange that someone like you would have such skill.”
“What do you mean someone like me?” Larkin snapped.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean,” Barren said blandly.
“Anyone following us yet?” Barren asked Leaf.
“Not that I can tell,” replied the Elf. He gazed around him one last time, not needing the aid of a spyglass. His Elvish sight was far superior to anything manmade.
“Has she said anything?” Barren nodded toward Larkin. She remained against the wall of the ship where Barren had left her after the attack on the Cliffs. Remnants from the previous day still adorned her. Bits of flowers were tangled in her hair. Loose curls fell around her face, and black smudges beneath her eyes. Her dress, dirty and tattered, was spread out before her, and the jewel-toned fabric shimmered in the sun. To his annoyance, Barren still thought she was beautiful.
“Not a word,” said Leaf. “She’s barely moved, and more surprisingly, she hasn’t complained. If I couldn’t hear her breathing, I would assume she was dead. You might want to feed her, though. She is looking pale.”
Barren watched her again; she didn’t look up. It was as if she were deliberately trying to stay focused on anything but the pirates. Barren took another bite of his roll.
“I still marvel at how my brother managed to become engaged to her.”
“I am surprised, too,” replied Leaf. “But only because she would not let him have his way so easily. Perhaps she will be good for William...she might put him in his place.”
“Blasphemous words, Leaf,” said Barren. “Suggesting that anyone can be happy with William Reed. Besides, if she is so independent in thought, how did she let herself be directed into a marriage she did not want?”
“You are not a part of their world, Barren. The only aspect of her life she has no control over is who she marries. Who she loves, well, that is a different story entirely.”
“To marry William would be a waste.”
“I must remind you that Larkin is half-Elf,” Leaf’s sea-green eyes were on her now. “And she can hear every word we are saying. Now...the bread?”
Barren looked down at his roll again. He grabbed the canteen of water sitting next to the helm, and moved away from Leaf. His boots thudded against the deck but even then, Larkin didn’t look up. Barren stood before her for a moment, waiting to see if she would acknowledge him, and yet again, she didn’t move. So the pirate knelt to meet her gaze—her eyes seemed to simmer, and despite the fury aimed at him, he smiled.
“Here,” he held out a piece of bread for her. “Eat.”
She hesitated for a moment and then took a bite of the bread as he held it to her mouth, chewing slowly. After she swallowed, she met his gaze.
“You can untie me. I’m not going anywhere.”
“How can I trust you when you attacked me so viciously last night?”
She smiled cynically. “I can’t swim.”
He didn’t want to believe her, but he remembered her saying that her father refused to let her go to the shore for fear pirates might abduct her. If that were true, why then wouldn’t he teach her how to swim? He took a knife from his boot, and, placing a finger through the ropes around her wrists, he lifted her hands to him. He studied her face for a moment before slicing the ropes and letting her hands fall into her lap, hoping she wouldn’t slap him. “Here,” he handed her the bread. “Eat, then.”
Larkin still stared at him fiercely, nibbling at the bread. Barren laughed at her. “It’s not poisoned, I was eating it.”
When she took a bigger bite from the roll, Barren was satisfied. He rocked back on his heels. “So where did you learn to fight like that? Seems strange that someone like you would have such skill.”
“What do you mean someone like me?” Larkin snapped.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean,” Barren said blandly.