We trekked a few miles to where we could see the shore, and then we strode along it until we were certain no one followed us. A while later, we found a cove hidden away from the rest of the coastline.
“I think it’s safe for us to rest now,” I said.
She was stumbling again, and my walk had long ago turned into a hobble.
Cecilia stretched her back. “It’s still your turn to sleep.”
I was too tired to argue.
I fell asleep quickly. I woke when the sun turned the sky from gray to blue and the sand from silver to gold. Cecilia had fallen asleep right beside me, and our cloak-wrapped shoulders touched.
Had I been meant to wake up and keep watch? Or had she fallen asleep accidentally? For a few moments, I didn’t dare move for fear of waking her. I sensed no imminent threats, and given the chain cutting into my ankle, I wouldn’t have a better line of sight unless I took Cecilia with me.
Besides, the view right where I was had significant appeal. Never before had I had so much time to study a woman from so close. Her dark lashes rested on sunburned cheeks, her eyebrows made perfectly arched crescents, and her relaxed mouth begged to be kissed.
I kept my hands to myself. I didn’t want to. A few times, I tried watching the waves instead, but sleeping Cecilia kept drawing my eyes. I wanted to wake up next to her every morning, without the need to keep my hands to myself.
Eventually, she made a small noise that was part moan and part sigh, and her mouth pulled together. I sat so she wouldn’t open her eyes and be alarmed to find me right next to her. Or had she intended to lie beside me? I glanced back when her breathing changed.
She blinked, then sat up suddenly. “Oh no. I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep.” She put a hand over her mouth, then slowly let it fall. “I’m so sorry, Rasheed.”
“No one robbed or murdered us. No harm done.”
“But someone could have.” She shook her head. “I was cold, and you were only using part of your cloak. I was just going to pull it around my legs, but I must have drifted off. Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I didn’t wake up much before you did.” That was stretching the truth, though not by all that much. “And I wasn’t sleepy anymore. No reason not to let you sleep.”
“I ought to be flogged for falling asleep while on watch.”
I’d never been flogged before, but Gil and Eudocia had, and I knew a little of their pain. It wasn’t something I would wish on anyone, certainly not on Cecilia. “Flogging is a little harsh, don’t you think?”
“Falling asleep while on watch is a serious crime. If I did that on a ship, we could run aground on rocks or be boarded by pirates or drift off course.”
“Good thing we aren’t on a ship, then.”
“You should be angry with me. Anyone else would be.” She frowned and pulled her hair together, smoothing it into one thick strand.
“Maybe I would be if we were on a ship and if you weren’t injured and hadn’t had to run for your life two nights in a row, and if you’d had normal meals and plenty of clothing to protect you from the wind. But you’ve had a rough few days.”
“So have you, yet you still managed to stay awake when you said you would.” Her hands made small, frustrated movements.
“Let it go, Cecilia.” I put a hand over hers, and hers stopped their fretting. “We all have moments of weakness. At least yours didn’t hurt anyone.”
She swallowed but stopped arguing. The morning light lit her face, and even with the red tint on her skin from too much sun, she was exquisite. I ran my hand along her hair, from the top of her head to her jawline. Her eyes searched my face, then settled on my mouth. An intangible force pulled me closer to her, just a bit, and I felt something that could best be described as a smolder in my chest. The attraction shouldn’t have been so strong, not when I’d known her only a handful of days, not when I’d known from the start that she was promised to someone else. Yet the feeling existed outside my control. It tugged and teased and grew stronger with each hour spent at her side.
I wanted to kiss her, badly. But I wasn’t sure I could control flames that strong. The last time I’d kissed a woman promised to another man, I’d created ripples that were still being felt. Kissing Cecilia now, while she was vulnerable and chained to me, would be a moment of weakness on my part, one that might cause harm.
I let my hand drop away, and Cecilia’s eyes fell to her lap. Had she felt the same fire I had? I didn’t want to scare her or hurt her feelings. Would a kiss change the way she viewed her betrothal? Make the promise of happiness outweigh the pull of duty? Or would it cause her regret and more heartache?
The silence between us quickly grew awkward. I didn’t know how long it might take us to find the Sea Maiden, but I didn’t want what remained of our time together spoiled. I caught sight of the linen we’d wrapped the chestnuts in. “You managed to hang on to our food even while being chased by Catalans? That’s impressive.”
Her lips quivered, then pulled into a smile, one that looked a little forced. “I know you’re very fond of raw mussels, but perhaps the variety will do us good.”
* * *
We walked most of the day, talking of things other than near kisses. The sun hung low on the horizon when we walked around a cove and found a galley dragged partway onto the beach. Cecilia halted, and then a smile lit her face. “It’s the Sea Maiden.”
My emotions pulled two different ways, like the waves that washed onto the sand and then retreated. Real rest and real food would be welcome. Constant pain tormented my leg, and the linen we’d wrapped around the chain that still clasped my ankle hadn’t stopped the chafing.
But I’d enjoyed conversing with Cecilia. We’d talked for hours, and though we’d had a few awkward moments after I’d almost kissed her, our time had never turned dull. Her uncle was a fool not to listen to her—she was wise and thoughtful, empathetic and practical. Part of me wished we would find Eudocia but that Signor Querini would remain missing. It was a sinful wish, and no doubt, my feelings of jealousy were sinful too.
Aban saw us first. He waved from the deck, then called to someone out of sight. Bertaldo appeared soon after, and both men climbed from the boat onto the sand.
“Cecilia, you are alive!” Bertaldo embraced his niece. “We feared the worst.”
She explained what had happened, and her uncle listened but turned to me, almost to verify her words. I would have walked away so he would have no choice except to listen to her and accept her version of events, but we were still chained.
“Where are Gil and Sebastie?” I asked.
“Looking for you. As is a portion of the crew. We sent out as many people as we have horses. All are to return by dawn. If we hadn’t found you by then, we planned to explore other options, though I doubt any of them would have worked. Bargaining with the Turks.” He huffed. Then he softened and placed a hand on Cecilia’s shoulder. “I am glad you are safe. Let’s see if we can get those chains off.”
We stayed on the beach while members of the Sea Maiden’s crew brought tools to shore. When one of them pried the cuff from my ankle, I felt relief but also the smallest hint of regret to have the tangible connection between Cecilia and me severed.
Food followed. Biscuits and cheese and dried herring, as much as we wanted. Aban sat beside me, but he did not speak. Some of the crew returned, and others were sent to round up as many members of the search party as they could find. The sailors built a large fire, in part to help everyone find their way back. Cecilia returned to the Sea Maiden, and most of the rest of us bedded down on the sand for the night.
“Rasheed?” Aban’s voice pulled me back to wakefulness just as I was about to drift to sleep.
“Yes?”
“I am glad you were not sold into slavery.”
“As am I.” Was he softening? I’d hoped for an improvement in our relationship, but we’d been apart only a few days. I didn’t know how long his goodwill would last, but I would do my best to match his efforts. “And I’m glad to find you safe, glad to see you again after so many years. I didn’t mean for my actions to hurt you, back before I left Valencia.”
“I realized that when Gillen told the story. He was right. Zubiya’s likely punishment would have been unjust. Your punishment was unfair, but there was kindness in what you did for her. You shouldn’t have had to leave.”
“Well, there’s no going back now.”
“No. Not for either of us. It is strange for me here. You and your friends see the world differently than I do.” He shifted in the sand. “I think when I came here, I wanted to find a brother who was a better version of myself. Someone with all my strengths but none of my flaws. Someone who was the man I wish I could be. But that wasn’t fair. You are different from what I expected, but maybe I should not have made so many assumptions. And maybe your ease with women is not as sinful as I first thought.”
I gazed up at the stars. He might think differently if he knew how much I’d ached to kiss Cecilia that morning. “Father believed that nearly everything about women was sinful. He was wrong.”
Aban kept quiet for a while. Maybe he was going to argue on our father’s behalf. “Mother was not sinful.”
“No. She just forgot her oldest son, but that wasn’t her fault. That was tradition and circumstances she didn’t initiate.”
His voice was hesitant. “I don’t think she forgot you. When I said she never asked after you, I spoke the truth. But I think it was out of fear, not because she didn’t care. She listened to Zubiya. And sometimes I saw her speaking to the Christian caravans that traveled through, but only when Father wasn’t around. I suppose she went against his wishes, but how can a mother loving her son be sinful?” He pursed his lips, the expression similar to our mother’s when she’d been deep in thought. “I hope she still loved you, because that makes it more likely that she could still love me, even after all I’ve done.”
He couldn’t have known how much peace those words brought me. Being disowned by my family was the most painful experience of my life. But now I had Aban back, and he no longer seemed so hostile, and I had the hope that my mother hadn’t completely rejected me. I fell asleep thinking of her.
I woke when the sun peeked over the horizon, driving away the gray and turning the sea that brilliant blue-green.
“You must have had quite the adventure not to be up at first light.” Gil hunched over the fire, coaxing new flames to catch a pile of logs.
“When did you get back?” I pushed myself up so I was sitting.
“About the third watch.”
“And Sebastie?” I looked around and saw him still sleeping.
“We were together. Tracked down what looked like the remnants of a Turkish camp. Found the bodies of one of the Venetians and buried him, minus his foot.”
I stood and stretched. My head didn’t pound nearly as hard as it had over the last three days. My leg held, but a few quivers of pain ran up and down the back of my thigh. “I’m glad you buried him. Cornario. Cecilia will be glad too—leaving the body behind didn’t sit easy with her, but we had no choice.”
I helped Gil stoke the fire, then we spread the burning chunks of wood out so they could die down into something that was better to cook with.
“How’s your leg?” he asked.
I let out a breath and shook my head. He motioned me to the sand, and I lay on my back while he grabbed my leg just above my ankle, slowly increasing his pull in the hopes of easing the pain and making the joint move without so much stiffness. I explained what had happened and why I’d had to desecrate Cornario’s foot. When he finished and I stood, my leg was still sore, but the pain wasn’t as intense as it had been.
Members of the Sea Maiden’s crew brought freshly caught fish, and as the fish cooked, the last pair of searchers rode into camp. Cecilia, her uncle, and the few sailors still on the galley joined the rest of us on the beach. Her hair was tidy again, and she wore a clean gown. Her gray eyes caught mine, and we walked toward each other.
“How are you this morning?” she asked.
“In most ways, I am better than I’ve been in days.”
“But you’re still limping.”
“It will take a while to calm down.” A fortnight, maybe longer, but Gil’s stretching had taken the edge off. “How are the cuts on your legs?”
“Cecilia?” Signor Bertaldo motioned her toward a log laid out as a bench. “Come eat.”
“One moment,” she called to him. “They’re getting better. Thank you, Rasheed, for getting us back.”
“We wouldn’t have made it back without you.”
“Nor would we have been caught.” She went to her uncle but turned back to cast a smile over her shoulder at me.
While we broke our fast with roasted fish, biscuits, and dried figs, the crew members who had only recently returned wanted to hear what had happened. Cecilia told the story, and everyone listened carefully. Like Cornario, the rest of the crew respected her and seemed genuinely glad to see her safe. They trusted her account more readily than her uncle had.
Gil leaned over to me when she finished. “You’re a little more heroic in her version than you were in yours.”
I shrugged.
Gil smiled slyly. “And I know you well enough to know I should believe her.”
“My oldest friend, and you don’t trust me?”
“I trust you to be modest. How’s your leg? Honestly.”
“The worst it’s been in years. But not as bad as it was when I woke up.”
Gil dug at the sand with the heel of his boot. “I’m sorry. I tried to fight them off at the bathhouse. And we tried to find you sooner.”
“I know. I’m sorry our original mission got sidetracked for so long. But we’ll find her, even with the delay.”
“They left on foot.” Gil folded his arms. “They might not have stayed on foot, but if they did, I think we’ll make up for the lost time. And if they don’t have a ship, we’ll be ahead of them.”
I hoped he was right.
“So, chained to a woman for most of three days. I imagine that was a special kind of challenge for you.” He chuckled. “You must be exhausted.”
“I do not like chains, but Cecilia was not a bad woman to be chained to.”
“Cecilia? Not Signorina Bertaldo?” Gil raised an eyebrow.
His teasing was good natured but painful. Cecilia was betrothed. I repeated that fact again in my mind. “I will call her Signorina Bertaldo from now on.”
Gil sobered. “What happened between the two of you?”
I motioned to the fire. “What she told the sailors.”
“That’s not what I mean. The chains may be gone, but there is still a connection between you and her. My eyes may be dim, but some things I can still see.”
Gil would be my ally no matter what, I knew that, but just then, I wished he weren’t so perceptive. “If that is true, I must find a way to sever it.” I cursed my heart for wanting something it couldn’t have. “You should tell her that you buried Cornario. But don’t mention that his foot was missing unless she asks.”
“Is she squeamish?”
I thought back to how she’d reacted to the bodies in the courtyard in Thebes and the way she’d examined the wound on my head. “I don’t think so. But she is compassionate, and she knew the man and his family for many years.” I stood and joined some of the crew who were filling barrels of water from a nearby stream before Gil had the chance to suggest I tell Cecilia about the burial instead of passing the task off to him. Part of me—the weaker part—longed for a reason to talk to her, which was reason for me to avoid it.
As I helped haul water to the ship, I caught sight of her speaking to Gil, presumably about Cornario’s body. She met my eyes and smiled. Heaven help me, she was beautiful in the morning light.