They slipped out to sea at four in the
morning, leaving quietly just before dawn along with all of the other fishing
boats. They had no desire to attract any unnecessary attention. They had packed a minimum amount of
provisions, along with some army supplies, including two short swords and two
bows. Potentilla had insisted that they take the weapons.
Captain Boris sailed
out to the fishing grounds and then kept going. Three hours out of port and
they were alone, crossing the wide bay. The wind was gusting south-easterly and
they tacked north.
Boris had cleared out
three store room areas and converted them into cabins. They were reasonably
roomy but suffered from a pervasive smell of fish. Dom took the smallest cabin,
Viola and Potentilla shared another one, and Boris was in the largest with his
first mate, Ivor. Kath hid down in the darkest part of the hold and refused to
come out. This was fine by everyone else; she was not on her best behaviour.
They gave her a mattress and some dry rations.
The day was sunny and
Potentilla, with no obvious duties to perform, peeled off her top and lay down
to sunbathe, choosing a patch of the deck where Dom could clearly see her.
Viola, who thought this was both too obvious and slightly unseemly, thought
briefly about saying something to her, but she had no real idea how to broach
the subject or what she would say. Fortunately Dom was studiously ignoring her,
with his head in his mage’s textbook, which, in half-hearted attempt at
secrecy, he had covered in thick brown paper. He had noticed her, of course,
and would occasionally shoot her the most surreptitious of glances. She was
lying half-asleep on her front and there was a small but significant part of
his mind that was really hoping that she’d turn over.
Eventually the
skipper needed Dom and Ivor’s help with the rigging and he was relieved to be
able to escape the elf’s strange, indirect, attention. He knew very well that
if Potentilla ever did try to seduce him that he would be completely unable to
resist; she held a strange, almost hypnotic, attraction for him. He had no
idea, however, whether he wanted this to happen or not. One thing was certain – he had no intention
of encouraging her in any way: this really
would have to be her idea.
***
The moon was full and it filled the boat
with light. Viola was unable to sleep – it was impossible to escape the
radiance except down in the hold, where Kath was fretting and grumbling.
Everywhere else seemed to have portholes or cracks and spaces, which let the
light bleed in. She clambered up to the
deck. Dom was sitting on a barrel and staring out to sea.
‘Beautiful night,
isn’t it?’ she said, softly, as she approached him.
Dom jumped up and
looked round at her.
‘Don’t do that!’ he said, ‘I thought everyone
had gone to sleep’
‘Well, Lieutenant
Potentilla has – I have no idea about Kath – and I think the skipper has too’
‘But not you…’
‘The moon’s too
bright…’
‘Make the most of it
– it’s very dark out here without it’
Viola pulled a barrel
across to where he was sitting. She sat down carefully – she was very grateful
that the sea was so calm; she was certain that she would succumb to seasickness
with even a little more swell. She stared out to where he had been looking.
‘What were you looking
at?’ she asked
‘Nothing… and
everything, I suppose’
Viola considered
this.
‘This is the first
time I have ever been entirely surrounded by sea…’
Dom smiled in the
half-light.
‘So, what do you make
of it, major?’
Viola was taken
aback. ‘Major?’ she thought, ‘what an odd thing to be called’. It still didn’t
sound right at all, and certainly not here. She shook her head.
‘Please don’t call me
that’ she whispered
Dom tried to make out
her expression but it was hard to read.
‘Umm – right… what
should I call you then?’ he asked
‘Call me Viola’ she
said, after a moment’s thought, ‘after all, this isn’t a military mission’
‘Well, it is a much nicer
name than ‘Major’’ he said, grinning.
‘Yes, I definitely
agree with that. I’ve never really got used to it…’
Dom wasn’t really
sure what this last comment meant, but this certainly seemed like progress. Now
it was time to move on.
‘You didn’t answer my
question’
‘About the sea, you
mean?’
‘Yes…what do you
think of it?’
Viola looked out over
the moon-dipped sea. She took so long to
respond that for a second Dom thought she must have dropped off.
‘I’m not really sure
– it seems to go on forever,’ she finally said, ‘and I find that both comforting
and disquieting. Out here, in this moonlight – there’s nothing to get in your
way but also nothing to prevent an endless drift…’
Viola laughed
nervously.
‘That must sound a
bit mad…’ she said, ‘…I had no idea what to expect’
Dom wanted to ask
‘isn’t that what all of life feels like?’, but he stopped himself.
‘I’ve always loved
the sea’ he said, instead, ‘but I suppose that it takes some getting used to’
There was a beat of
time. Dom got up and walked over to the edge of the boat, which was only a few
steps away. He leant over and peered down. Viola stood up and cautiously made
her way over to him. When she looked over the gunwale she could see their
faces, murky and pale in the glassy water.
‘What can you see?’
she asked, but he didn’t answer. The
wind picked up slightly and, as if from nowhere, clouds began to crawl across
the star-freckled sky.
Dom turned away from
the edge and went back to sit on his barrel. Viola waited a few moments and
then re-joined him. They sat in silence as
the clouds began to gang up on the moon. Slowly the light began to fail.
‘Do you miss Ortia?’
‘Yes’ she sighed,
‘all of the time’
‘Do you dream about
it?’ he asked, ‘when I was in Amansk I would dream of the sea constantly…’
Viola froze – why was he asking her about her
dreams? For a second, she felt almost guilty.
‘My dreams are often
a bit strange’ she said, softly, ‘like the one that showed me the fire snakes…’
Dom had to strain to
hear what she was saying. He hadn’t expected this strange change in the
conversation at all.
‘You have the gift of
prophesy?’ he asked, warily, ‘Is that what you mean?’
Viola wished that the
moon had not gone away and that she could still see his face.
‘I have no idea’ she
whispered, ‘but I hope not…’
‘But your dreams;
aren’t they prophesises?’
The night had turned
cold but sweat was beginning to form on Viola’s brow. So, what were her dreams?
‘They’re not
prophesises, they’re messages’
‘Messages? What do
you mean? Messages from whom?’
Viola shook her head in the gloom.
‘I can’t say… I mean
I won’t say… I mean…’
Her voice trailed
off. Dom could feel the tension between
them build. This was obviously something that he should not pursue too far,
however intriguing it was.
‘You don’t have to
tell me… I really don’t need to know…’
Viola relaxed a
little, but part of her needed to say something more. She suddenly felt very
tired and for a second she was unsure of whether she was thinking or speaking. Her words seemed to hover in the darkness.
‘She has always
talked to me…’
Dom remained silent.
More than anything else he wanted to ask ‘who has?’ but he resisted. Viola’s
voice sank down again to a tiny murmur.
‘But why has she
chosen me? I’m no-one and I live in the middle of nowhere…’
Dom waited but Viola
said nothing more. They both shivered in the freshening wind; all traces of the
moonlight had gone.
‘I need my bed’ said
Dom, getting up, ‘and I think perhaps that you do too’
‘What was I saying?’
asked Viola, bewildered. She felt in a strange way as if she had been trying to
betray herself.
‘You were mumbling
something’ said Dom, deploying a small white lie, ‘but I really couldn’t make
out what it was…’
Dom heard her sigh of
relief. For a moment he was unsure whether he was pleased that he’d fooled her
or pleased that he had soothed her feelings. ‘I’d make a very bad real spy’ he
thought to himself with satisfaction, ‘but fortunately my spying days are
over…’
Viola walked past him,
still silent, and then made her way down to her cabin. The block of clouds had
now raced past the moon and it was if a huge torch had been lit up again. Dom
nodded a ‘goodnight’ to the resurgent moon and headed for his bunk.
