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The Smell Of The Sea
It was fully dark when Mandeville lifted Adelina from her horse. She’d lost track of how many days they’d been on the road and had no inkling of where they were, except she was closer to her final destination. As her feet touched ground, she inhaled deeply. Born and raised on cliffs overlooking the Narrow Sea, she immediately recognized the tang of salt in the air. “Are we near the sea?” she asked.
“Heysham,” he replied. “West of Lancaster.”
With her limited knowledge of northern geography, she’d thought they would pass through Lancashire’s market town. Mandeville apparently sensed her confusion. “We proceed by boat from here. I’m assured it is faster than going overland.”
Adelina had lived her entire life by the sea, but she’d never trusted the deep, dark waters off the coast below her home. Since they were children, Terric had always mocked her fear of water. “Is it safe?” she asked, despising the tremor in her voice. Mandeville had continued his somewhat flirtatious behavior but she still couldn’t fathom if he was friend or foe. She supposed some women might be flattered by his flirting but it failed to arouse her interest.
“Probably safer than tackling the hills,” he replied with a hint of nervousness, “though it is the Irish Sea. However, we’ll apparently be sailing close to land.”
Adelina sensed the major too was reluctant to complete the journey by sea which did little to calm her own apprehension.
Over the course of the long trek, the soldiers had become very efficient at quickly pitching the three tents. Adelina and her maid had fallen into the habit of eating their evening meal in the company of the men. When Mandeville informed them he alone would sail with her, Adelina felt a peculiar sense of loss. She didn’t know anything about the men who’d traveled with her but they’d seen her safely delivered this far.
Glenda became strangely silent when she learned of the seven-hour sea voyage ahead.
Later that night, staring into the darkness of the bell tent, Adelina realized this would be the last night spent in her temporary lodgings. What had initially seemed an outrageously uncomfortable inconvenience now felt like home. On the morrow, she’d be delivered into the hands of an elderly baron who’d already buried three previous wives. Fretting about the fate of those three women kept her awake most of the night.
* * *
Roland was sailing in unfamiliar waters. When they finally sighted land after proceeding north east from Ellan Vannin, he assumed they’d finally reach the Cumbrian coast. Marguerite had provided a detailed description of the inlet that led to Ravenglass but was it north or south of their location?
Close to shore, a number of small vessels indicated there might be a fishing village nearby. “Hail them,” Roland told Terric.
His cousin waved his arms above his head until he caught the attention of a fisherman in one of the boats. “Ravenglass?” he shouted, hands now cupped to his mouth.
“Saint Bee’s,” came the hoarse reply as the fellow pointed south. “Ravenglass.”
“Obliged,” Terric hollered, giving a final wave.
Roland turned the galley south, hugging the coast until they finally came to a silted estuary. “This must be it,” he shouted, elation bubbling in his veins. “Strike the sail.”
Terric slapped him on the back. “We did it.”
Roland saw a mixture of hope and fear in his cousin’s brown eyes. “I give you my word,” he said hoarsely. “I will see Adelina safely delivered.”
Terric nodded. “I’ve never doubted it.”
They clasped arms as the rowers took up the oars to bring them into the estuary. Roland was relieved Terric seemed to be at peace with his plans for Adelina. Now, he could concentrate on getting the galley up the inlet to Ravenglass without running aground on the sandbanks.
* * *
“I will not board that flimsy craft,” Glenda insisted, fists firmly planted on hips. “Nor will my mistress.”
Adelina didn’t blame her maid. The longboat bobbing in the waves of a large bay wasn’t what she had envisaged for the voyage.
“Lady Adelina’s belongings are already on board and she will sail with us,” Mandeville countered, sounding bored. “However, if you wish to remain here…”
Glenda eyed the dozen or so local oarsmen aboard the longboat. “Ye canna abandon me here.”
Mandeville didn’t reply, making it clear the maid’s ultimate fate was none of his concern.
Pouting mightily and muttering under her breath about God having created the sea for fish not folks, Glenda hoisted the satchel’s strap over her head and climbed aboard.
Preferring not to watch the boat rocking from side to side as Glenda staggered to find a place to sit, Adelina turned to the soldiers who’d escorted her. Mandeville had formed them up into a line standing to attention as if they were seeing off the king himself. “My thanks to you all for keeping me safe,” she said. “And for feeding me,” she added to the cook.
To a man, they looked downcast. “I know you were all just doing your duty,” she assured them.
