Read Online Northern Lights Trilogy by Lisa Tawn Bergren - Free Book Online
Authors: Lisa Tawn Bergren
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The ship seemed enormous down here, and not the least bit comforting. The huge cargo hold rose up through a portion of all three decks and was filled with crates and barrels and trunks of various sizes. She was at the bottom, with the stairs rising not far from her perch. The wide-stepped staircase led up to the huge cargo hold doors that allowed sailors to load and unload the
Herald
. The candle shed little light, and a shiver ran down her back as she squinted, trying to peer into the farthest reaches of darkness to reassure herself.
How she longed to climb the stairs, bang on the doors, and surprise them all with her presence! But no, she told herself, she must stay put until she could hold out no longer. By then, it would be impossible for Peder to turn the ship around.
She shivered again and raised her candle in search of the other trunk of clothes Vidar had smuggled aboard with her. Tora discovered it two chests over and immediately rummaged through it for her cloak and some of the food she had hidden there. The night watch, which she assumed she would hear, had not begun clanging their bells, her only way to ascertain the time. She assumed it was about noon and time for lunch. She would call it that, anyway, until she knew better.
Nothing in her life had tasted better than the remains of Elsa’s wedding feast, which Tora had smuggled away with other precious stores. Yesterday it had tasted dry and flat; today it was like manna from heaven, as Mama would say. The thought of her mother brought Tora up short. She was sorry to cause her pain. But Papa was getting his just desserts. The old man had forced her to this. Yes,today, her first day of freedom and new life, all food tasted like manna.
After supper on the second day of their voyage, Peder pushed away his inexpensive porcelain plate and Cook, a man whom Peder liked to joke had come as cheap as the dinnerware, immediately cleared it away. Peder watched the old Chinaman move, his feet shuffling along, as Karl and Kristoffer debated the profit potential of different cargoes and Stefan—Peder’s steward—looked on. Although his cooking skills left something to be desired, Cook was indispensable. In all the ten years Peder had traveled with the man, earlier as second mate, then as first mate, and now as captain, he had never known him to show up late from port or shirk his duties in any way. One thing he would grant, Chinamen knew how to pull their weight.
Peder glanced down the elegant mahogany table to his wife, who watched Karl and then Kristoffer speak, seemingly delighted by their banter. She was a quick study, and he could almost see her mind working as she considered first one man’s comments and then the other’s. When either man glanced at her, Elsa nodded politely, obviously listening, but not intruding.
He watched as Karl glanced at Elsa and saw his first mate do a double take. Peder smiled. He knew that Elsa’s unfaltering blue-eyed gaze was enough to make any man take a step back. Her eyes begged one to stare back into them, as if one could ascertain his future simply by staring into their blue depths. “Gypsy eyes,” Peder had whispered to her during their first night together. She had demurred, calling Tora the gypsy. But underneath the blond halo that glistened in her hair from the cabin’s candlelight chandelier, she was a gypsy. And Elsa’s eyes were only the beginning of her siren’s call for him.
As Elsa dropped her gaze in embarrassment when Karl did not look away, Peder cleared his throat. For an instant, he thought he saw a guilty look cross Karl’s face as he glanced up at him, butimmediately dismissed the idea. He knew Karl had always had a mild crush on Elsa. What man in Bergen who knew her had not? But Karl was Peder’s best friend. He knew his bounds.
“We need to review our supplies,” Peder said to Karl and Kristoffer, returning to the conversation at hand. “I want to know before we near Scotland if there has been
Herald
. The candle shed little light, and a shiver ran down her back as she squinted, trying to peer into the farthest reaches of darkness to reassure herself.
How she longed to climb the stairs, bang on the doors, and surprise them all with her presence! But no, she told herself, she must stay put until she could hold out no longer. By then, it would be impossible for Peder to turn the ship around.
She shivered again and raised her candle in search of the other trunk of clothes Vidar had smuggled aboard with her. Tora discovered it two chests over and immediately rummaged through it for her cloak and some of the food she had hidden there. The night watch, which she assumed she would hear, had not begun clanging their bells, her only way to ascertain the time. She assumed it was about noon and time for lunch. She would call it that, anyway, until she knew better.
Nothing in her life had tasted better than the remains of Elsa’s wedding feast, which Tora had smuggled away with other precious stores. Yesterday it had tasted dry and flat; today it was like manna from heaven, as Mama would say. The thought of her mother brought Tora up short. She was sorry to cause her pain. But Papa was getting his just desserts. The old man had forced her to this. Yes,today, her first day of freedom and new life, all food tasted like manna.
After supper on the second day of their voyage, Peder pushed away his inexpensive porcelain plate and Cook, a man whom Peder liked to joke had come as cheap as the dinnerware, immediately cleared it away. Peder watched the old Chinaman move, his feet shuffling along, as Karl and Kristoffer debated the profit potential of different cargoes and Stefan—Peder’s steward—looked on. Although his cooking skills left something to be desired, Cook was indispensable. In all the ten years Peder had traveled with the man, earlier as second mate, then as first mate, and now as captain, he had never known him to show up late from port or shirk his duties in any way. One thing he would grant, Chinamen knew how to pull their weight.
Peder glanced down the elegant mahogany table to his wife, who watched Karl and then Kristoffer speak, seemingly delighted by their banter. She was a quick study, and he could almost see her mind working as she considered first one man’s comments and then the other’s. When either man glanced at her, Elsa nodded politely, obviously listening, but not intruding.
He watched as Karl glanced at Elsa and saw his first mate do a double take. Peder smiled. He knew that Elsa’s unfaltering blue-eyed gaze was enough to make any man take a step back. Her eyes begged one to stare back into them, as if one could ascertain his future simply by staring into their blue depths. “Gypsy eyes,” Peder had whispered to her during their first night together. She had demurred, calling Tora the gypsy. But underneath the blond halo that glistened in her hair from the cabin’s candlelight chandelier, she was a gypsy. And Elsa’s eyes were only the beginning of her siren’s call for him.
As Elsa dropped her gaze in embarrassment when Karl did not look away, Peder cleared his throat. For an instant, he thought he saw a guilty look cross Karl’s face as he glanced up at him, butimmediately dismissed the idea. He knew Karl had always had a mild crush on Elsa. What man in Bergen who knew her had not? But Karl was Peder’s best friend. He knew his bounds.
“We need to review our supplies,” Peder said to Karl and Kristoffer, returning to the conversation at hand. “I want to know before we near Scotland if there has been
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