Draco A Medieval Scottish Roma - Jayne Castel Page 0,73

low in the water.

“Take off your cloak,” Draco shouted over the thunder of surf pounding against the rocks. He heard the edge to his voice, betraying his worry. “This will get rough … and if you go overboard, a cloak will only drag you down.”

Face pale and taut, Gavina did as bid. She then gripped onto the edge of the boat as seawater sprayed over them both.

Taking his own advice, Draco shucked off his cloak too, and then he propelled the boat into shore, catching a wave.

The roar of the sea swallowed up Gavina’s cry of fright. The wave lifted them high, and suddenly the cliff walls were racing toward them. They rode the wave in, and then Draco let go of the oars, lunging for Gavina instead.

His hand clasped hers. “Jump!” he yelled. “Now!”

The wave surged onto the rocks, bringing the small wooden craft with it.

The boat splintered, and its occupants flew forward, rolling over the wet, seaweed-strewn rocks.

Freezing water surged over them, dragging them back out to sea. Draco grabbed the edge of a rock, his boots digging against the lip of another boulder, while Gavina clung to his hand.

The strength of the retreating wave pulled at them both, but he managed to drag them to safety.

They were both gasping for breath, seawater dripping off them, when they climbed up the rocks. And there, a few feet away, the rope ladder hung, awaiting them.

“I never want to get in a boat again,” Gavina managed through chattering teeth. “Never!”

Draco put an arm around her shoulders. “Come on.” He gently pushed her toward the ladder. “The others will be waiting for us … let’s go.”

XXX

NOT SIMPLE AT ALL

GAVINA FUMBLED A little when she attempted to climb the ladder. The chill of the water and fright of being ejected from the boat and nearly swept out to sea had made her shaky. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself upward, her gaze trained upon the cliff wall.

Don’t look down.

Going up was just as frightening as the descent had been. Even more so, for she wasn’t looking forward to clambering over the ledge at the top.

“That’s it,” Draco called up. “Not much farther … just a few more yards.”

His voice steadied her. Forcing herself on, Gavina continued to climb, and a short while later, she reached the ledge.

“What now?” she called down to Draco.

In answer, he gave a shrill whistle, the sound carrying above the rumble of the surf below, the cry of gulls, and the thunder of the assault on the castle.

Glancing up, she spied a strong male hand, which had just appeared over the ledge.

“Take it!” Cassian Gaius’s voice echoed down to Gavina. “I’ll pull you up.”

Gavina hesitated. She was reluctant to let go of the rope and grab the captain’s hand. What if she pulled him off the ledge and they both fell to their deaths?

“All’s well, Gavina,” Draco reassured her, his voice closer now. “Take his hand … Cassian will look after you.”

His words gave her the courage she needed. Taking a deep breath, Gavina let go of the ladder with her right hand and stretched it up. Cassian’s hand clasped hers, the strength of it making her catch her breath.

A moment later, she was being pulled upward, as if she weighed nothing, up and over the ledge to safety.

“My Lady!” Aila was there at Cassian’s side, her hands reaching for Gavina and pulling her away from the edge.

Gavina staggered away on wobbly legs, turning to see Cassian help Draco up over the stone shelf.

A few feet away, standing before the archway to the dungeons, Maximus and Heather looked on.

“Well?” Cassian asked, facing Draco as he climbed to his feet. “Was the wise woman any help?”

Draco’s face shuttered. Watching him, Gavina’s breathing quickened. So much had happened over the past night. How could they possibly explain things?

“Yes, we’re fine, thank you. And yes and no … in answer to your question,” Draco replied, meeting his friend’s eye.

Cassian frowned. “What kind of answer is that?” he asked.

“An honest one.” Draco’s voice was strangely subdued, his dark eyes still wary.

“What did she say?” Heather stepped forward, her gaze seeking Gavina’s. Since Draco was speaking in riddles, she clearly hoped the lady would give a clearer answer.

Gavina tensed. Suddenly, she was loath to share what had happened in Stonehaven. It seemed too personal, too raw, to talk about just yet.

But Heather’s gaze was imploring, hopeful. Gavina didn’t have the heart to deny her.

“In order for the curse to be broken, Draco and

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