Draco A Medieval Scottish Roma - Jayne Castel Page 0,61
her companions were now watching her. She was terrified of climbing down from here, especially as the crash of the surf seemed even louder than the roar of battle at present. Would that little boat even still be intact or tied to its moorings?
“Draco’s right, My Lady,” Aila murmured, casting a worried look toward the edge. The rope ladder hung just below it, although Gavina wouldn’t see it until she hung herself over the side. She broke into a cold sweat at the thought. “Ye don’t need to go.”
Gavina straightened her spine and gathered her failing courage. “I do,” she replied with a shake of her head. “If Draco and I haven’t broken the curse, we must find out why. The wise woman will need to see both of us.”
“Dusk is around an hour away,” Cassian interrupted then. “If you’re going to make your move, it must be now.”
“I’m ready,” Draco grunted, moving toward the edge.
“Once you’ve concluded your business in Stonehaven, don’t try returning in the dark,” Cassian warned. “The surf is rough down there in all weathers … and the rocks are perilous. Wait till dawn … we’ll be waiting for you.”
Gavina swallowed, grateful for his practical advice. She then nodded, for she didn’t trust her voice not to betray her. On shaky legs, she moved closer to the edge, watching as Draco lowered himself over. He paused there while his feet scrabbled for purchase.
And then he disappeared from sight.
Gavina’s heart began to pound so fast she started to feel lightheaded.
Merciful Lord, am I capable of this?
“Your turn, My Lady.” Cassian was at her side then, guiding her by the elbow. “Take hold of my hands, and I’ll lower you over. Draco will be waiting on the ladder below.”
XXV
TO THE ROCKS
THE CLIMB DOWN to the rocks was terrifying. Gavina resolutely didn’t look down, concentrating instead on the rope ladder she clung to and the rock wall of the cliff-face.
If she let her gaze drop to the foaming water and the jagged rocks below, her heart would surely fail her.
As Cassian had promised, Draco was waiting for her below the ledge. Clinging to the rope with one hand, he’d taken hold of her right leg with the other, guiding her foot onto the ladder.
“Climb down slowly,” he’d warned her. “The rope’s slippery … and it’s a long way to fall.”
Indeed.
Rung by rung, she made her way down the ladder, the blood roaring in her ears. The boom of the waves against the rocks below grew louder, and the damp spindrift surrounded her, rising up from the crashing surf.
They were almost there.
“Can ye see the boat?” she finally called, still not daring to look down.
“Yes … and it appears intact.”
Relief flooded through Gavina at this news.
Her feet hit stone then, and her knees almost buckled in relief.
An instant later, Draco was at her side, supporting her. “You did well.” His breath feathered against her ear. “That was quite a climb.”
She glanced up at him, expecting to see mockery in his gaze. However, to her surprise, she saw none.
Taking her hand, he led her over the slippery, seaweed-covered rocks to where the tiny rowboat had been wedged in, just above the tideline.
Relief filtered through Gavina when she spied two oars sitting in it. However, although made of sturdy oak, the craft was tiny—big enough to take two, and no more.
“Help me drag it out to the water,” Draco instructed, grabbing hold of the prow.
Gavina hurried over to him, grateful that under her woolen cloak she’d dressed in men’s braies and a lèine belted at the waist. There was no way she’d have attempted the climb down the cliff-face in her usual attire.
She too gripped the prow, her fingers digging into the wood, and together they dragged the craft down to where waves pounded the rocks.
“Getting this boat out beyond the breakwater will be … interesting,” Draco observed. “You’d better get in … and hold on tight.”
His words didn’t reassure Gavina. She too had been wondering how such a small craft would handle the rough waves, yet she did as bid, climbing into the boat and clinging to the sides as if her life now depended upon it.
Draco shoved the boat into the waves and leaped in.
Icy water showered Gavina, soaking through her cloak immediately. She gasped, her grip tightening till her fingers ached.
Draco moved swiftly, gripping the oars and maneuvering the tiny craft through the breakwater.
She didn’t speak, preferring instead to let him concentrate on keeping the rowboat upright.