With his legs spread out for balance, he waited until she drew her arms within his. Then as she grasped the net again, he leaned back, pulling her body off her feet as she held on. Despite herself, she began to laugh. ‘Well, that’s one way to catch fish, I suppose.’
As he’d hoped, she was then able to pull the net back into the boat. There were only small fish within the net, but he found a few oysters as well, which Caragh saved.
Over the next hour, he instructed her on baiting the hooks and setting the fishing lines. The activity seemed to take her mind off her fear, especially when they caught a few small fish. But the longer he watched her, the more his chains irritated him. He wanted to control the sails, to command the sea and catch the fish. Standing around in chains only simmered his resentment more.
After she let down the fishing line, Caragh tucked a strand of hair over one ear, suddenly appearing nervous around him. ‘Will we catch any more, do you think?’
He shrugged and stared at the horizon.
She sent him a look and then deepened her voice, as if mimicking him. ‘You couldn’t catch a minnow, Caragh, as weak as you are.’
In her own voice, she continued the singular conversation. ‘I know that, but I am trying.’
‘Not enough,’ she countered, pretending to be him. ‘And if you don’t catch a fish, I’ll toss your useless body overboard and sail away.’
He stared at her in disbelief of what she was doing. ‘You’re mad,’ he muttered.
‘And you’re in a foul mood,’ she shot back.
‘Because you’ve chained me. Do you think I should be happy about this? Do you think I should be talking with you about fishing and the weather? I’m still your prisoner because you won’t trust me.’
‘I have no reason at all to trust a man who wants to kill my brother,’ she countered.
‘I might not kill him.’
‘Might not? If anything at all happened to Elena, he’ll take the blame for it.’
‘And it would be well deserved.’ He knew Caragh wanted to protect the boy, but seven and ten was old enough to understand the consequences. ‘He can’t hide behind your skirts for what he did.’
She glared at him. ‘And now you understand why I’m reluctant to release your chains. The moment I do, you’ll go after Brendan.’
‘He will answer for what he did, Caragh.’
She stared out at the calm waters of the sea, dismay lined upon her face. ‘Then I have no choice but to come with you. For nothing I say will change your mind.’
‘I am a man of actions, not words.’
‘I’m aware of that.’ Imitating his voice again, she added, ‘Warriors don’t talk, Caragh. They kill people. And I’m quite good at killing things.’
‘Good at killing things who talk too much.’ But there was a glint of humour in his eyes. The line was starting to pull, and he went to stand against her. His back pressed against her own, to lend his strength.
Caragh linked her arms with his and gripped the fishing line, leaning back. ‘Something is biting.’
Styr pulled hard, helping her with the fish. The line moved violently and Caragh gasped as it cut into her palm.
‘Don’t let the line go,’ he commanded. ‘Keep a steady pressure upon it.’
He continued pulling, and Caragh began talking again, encouraging him to help her. At last, she guided the line into his hands and used a hand net to bring the fish into the boat. It was a large flounder, the length of her arm.
At the sight of the fish, she let out a cry of exultation. ‘We did it! Styr, we have food!’ She was laughing and crying at the same time. Her joy was so great that she threw her arms around his shoulders, embracing him hard.
He stood motionless, startled by her. The reckless gesture was something Elena never would have done, and he didn’t know how to respond.
But his body knew. Though the embrace was brief, he’d felt the touch of her breasts against him, her hips pressing close. The spontaneous affection meant nothing, but it was as if she’d awakened a part of his spirit that had been shielded for a long time. It was rare that anyone had touched him in such a way, and he was so taken aback, he returned to his seat at the rudder.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just that I’ve never caught a fish this large before.’ Her face was flushed with excitement as she stored the fish in a corner of the boat.
Styr grunted a response, and ordered her to set out another line. She did, and while she worked, her joy spread over her face. The sunlight gleamed upon her brown hair, and when she looked back at him, her smile slid beneath his defences, diminishing his dark mood.
He turned his gaze back to the sea, a sense of guilt permeating his conscience. It had been a long time since any woman had smiled at him. Especially when he’d done so little to deserve it.
‘Are you still afraid of the sea?’ he asked.
Caragh shook her head, her smile remaining serene. ‘I suppose it’s not so terrible. The weather was bad that day, and my father never should have gone out.’ Her gaze drifted towards the water, and she let out a sigh. ‘I miss him terribly, and it hurts to think of losing him.’
She glanced back at him and sent him an apologetic smile. ‘I shouldn’t have touched you, I know. It was too impulsive of me.’
He said nothing, half-afraid she would see how it had affected him. If he weren’t bound to Elena, he might have enjoyed the embrace, pulling her closer. But honour demanded that he leave this woman alone, that he lock away any attraction he might feel.
She knelt down on the boat, the blue dress damp from the sea. ‘This fish means life,’ she admitted. ‘It may seem like nothing to you…but it’s everything to me.’
‘It’s enough to last us the journey, if we preserve it.’ He needed the reminder of his purpose, and she nodded.
‘We’ll find them, Styr. And perhaps, when you return, we can make peace between our people, even after all that’s happened.’
‘No,’ he responded. He couldn’t remain here, not so close to Caragh. The contrast between this woman and his wife was dangerous, for although he’d done nothing wrong, he sensed that staying near her would be unwise. ‘We’ll settle elsewhere.’
Her expression dimmed, and she turned her attention back to the fishing lines.
They caught five more fish before returning to shore. Caragh was exhausted, but her spirits had never been more joyous. There was food, such as she’d never seen in months. Not only enough for herself, but also enough to share with the others. The sun had drifted lower in the sky, and Styr shadowed her as she brought the largest flounder back to her home. Though she doubted if anyone would try to steal the fish, she also knew that many had become desperate—particularly Kelan. She hoped to ease their hunger by gifting them with some of the extra fish they had caught.
One by one, she visited the other families, and seeing their elation at the food lifted her mood even higher. Iona’s husband Gearoid gave her a small keg of mead in thanks. Though she protested, he refused to take no as an answer, and balanced it on his shoulder as he struggled to bring it to her home. Styr was waiting by the fire, and when the old man saw him there, he blinked.
‘Are ye well enough, Caragh?’ Though he kept his tone calm, she didn’t miss the worry in his eyes. None of them had agreed with her decision to chain Styr; they’d wanted him dead.
‘I am fine. And were it not for this Lochlannach, we’d still be hungry this night.’
Gearoid didn’t seem comfortable leaving her, but Caragh opened