The ship looked a little like a knarr, a versatile vessel with a deep enough draft that it could navigate the open waters of the ocean but not so deep that it couldn’t also navigate the shallower coastal waters and rivers. It was sleek and clinker-built, with overlapping planks of polished wood held together with thick iron studs. A large single, square sail flew from the mainmast and if the construction hadn’t given it away, the sail would have. This was not a Scottish ship, but a Scandinavian one, a design whose roots lay in the Viking raiding ships that had once harried this coast long ago.
The crew worked in silence, their movements almost mechanical as they set the sails and adjusted the tiller. The only sound was the gentle splash of water against the hull and the occasional shout from Alice Brewer as she yelled commands. Molly watched them all with a sense of dread.
As time passed, it became colder and darker, until finally the sky bled into pitch blackness and even the stars were lost in its depths. Molly kept her eyes on the shore sliding by on each side, searching for any landmark she could recognize but it was too dark to see much. She had no idea where they were or how far they had traveled; she only knew that they must be somewhere close to their destination because now and then she noticed that Alice Brewer was peering intently towards something off in one direction or another, and then barking orders.
Eventually Molly noticed that the ship was turning and coming closer to the riverbank. She sat up a little straighter, looking around. Dark shapes loomed out of the gloom and Molly realized they were ships, lots of ships, all large and sleek, clearly sea-going, and of a very different design to the one she was on.
Then she noticed something else: a complex of buildings hugging the dark shore with a series of landing stages jutting out into the water. A flotilla of small boats was crossing the water between the building and the ships, their decks piled with cargo.
Understanding crashed in on her. Those were Earl Sinclair’s warehouses and it didn’t take much creativity to imagine what was contained in the cargo crates being loaded onto the ships.
Alice Brewer’s ship dropped anchor and a small boat approached out of the darkness with its single lantern shining like an eye in the night as it came alongside. Molly watched as a man climbed aboard and her heart skipped a beat when she realized it was Earl Sinclair himself. He wore fine clothes befitting his station and he moved with agility despite his age.
He did not look happy. He fixed his formidable glower on Alice Brewer as she strode to meet him.
“Ye are late. Didnae ye get my message? We need to move forward the schedule.”
“My apologies, my lord. We ran into a wee bit of trouble.”
“Trouble? What sort of trouble? If ye have been seen—”
“Dinna worry,” Alice said, raising a placating hand. “We took care of it.” She nodded towards the mast and Earl Sinclair turned and saw Molly for the first time. He strode over and squatted onto his haunches so he could get a look at her face. He hissed out a breath and spun towards Alice as he rose to his feet. “What is the meaning of this? Ye have freed a prisoner that I specifically ordered be locked up! If ye think ye can—”
“We didnae free her,” Alice cut in. “Nor was she locked up. She was about to escape from the Pinnacle—along with yer son.”
“Conall?” Earl Sinclair said, his face going white. “He escaped?”
“Seems ye underestimated him, my lord. And his desire to stop us. His loyalty to the Order of the Osprey is greater than his loyalty to his family. Sad really, when ye think about it.”
Earl Sinclair’s lips tightened into a thin line, and his eyes narrowed. “I see. And where is my son now?”
Alice waved a dismissive hand. “Dinna worry. We didnae hurt him but we did make sure he canna interfere in our plans. We left him tied up back at the Pinnacle.”
Earl Sinclair’s face contorted in anger. “Ye fool! Do ye have any idea what that boy is capable of? He could ruin everything! And why did ye bring Lady Molly? She’s a member of the Order of the Osprey too ye know!”
Alice’s expression darkened. “Whatever else she is, she’s also yer son’s doxy—and our back up plan. I made it clear what would happen to her if he or the Order should try to interfere.”
Earl Sinclair scowled. “Then we need to move fast. Get the cargo on board and set sail. We canna risk being caught.”
Alice nodded and turned to her crew. “Ye heard the man. Let’s get moving.”
They scurried to their tasks with renewed urgency, loading the crates of cargo onto the ship.
Molly’s heart pounded with fear. She felt like a pawn in a game she didn’t understand, caught between powerful forces that were determined to use her for their own purposes. She wanted to scream for help, to fight back, but she knew she was outnumbered and outmatched. Her only hope was to stay alive long enough to figure out what was going on and find a way to escape.
It didn’t take long to provision the ships. When he was satisfied, Earl Sinclair barked orders and the flotilla of smaller boats moved away to allow the bigger ships to turn downriver and continue their journey. None carried any lights and, despite her predicament, Molly couldn’t help but be impressed by the skill of the pilots to navigate these waters in the darkness. The rest of the ships fell into formation behind the lead ship and they sailed in silence towards the open sea.
Molly shivered in the cold air and shifted, trying to find a position where the rope around her middle didn’t bite into her skin. Earl Sinclair paced back and forth on the deck, muttering to himself under his breath and occasionally glancing over at Molly with a look of anger and frustration. Alice Brewer stood at the tiller, her eyes fixed ahead and her face set in grim determination.
Molly felt like she was in a dream, one where everything was dark and terrifying and she was powerless to stop anything. She thought back to Irene MacAskill’s words.Are ye willing to take the path that will lead ye there? If ye do, then perhaps ye will discover the path ye were born to tread and the one who will walk it with ye.
This couldn’t have been what she meant. This couldn’t have been the reason she was sent back here. It made no sense.
Molly’s exhaustion started to take its toll and she felt her head nodding despite the uncomfortable position she was tied in. She tried with all her might to fight it, knowing that if she fell asleep, she would be vulnerable and at the mercy of Earl Sinclair and his crew or might miss some vital bit of information that might help her.
But despite her best efforts, she eventually succumbed to her fatigue and drifted off into a troubled sleep full of dreams of sinking into deep, dark water.
When she woke, the sun was shining brightly and the ship had stopped moving. She looked around groggily, trying to get her bearings, before realizing that she was no longer tied up and the rope that had bound her was lying limply on the deck beside her. She sat up, rubbing at her aching limbs. Earl Sinclair stood over by the rail whilst Alice Brewer stood talking to the helmsman at the tiller.
