‘Do you know what it stands for?’ I ask, though I suspect the letter means as much to the woman as it does to me. My suspicion is confirmed when she shakes her head.
‘OK,’ I say, after a moment’s thought. ‘There’s a harbour several miles south-west of here. I think we should go there, see if anyone’s heard of this ship and maybe then we’ll find someone who knows you.’
The woman’s eyes widen further, which I didn’t think was possible. ‘You’ll come with me?’
‘Of course. I can’t exactly leave you on your own now, can I?’
To my surprise she throws her arms round me. ‘Thank you, you’re my saviour.’
I say nothing and hope my cheeks aren’t burning too much. I’m no saviour.
Gathering up her things, I offer to carry the baby, but she refuses to be parted from the child for even a moment. Instead I take her arm and support her weight, for her body is battered and bruised and walking is clearly difficult.
Until now she’s had her back to the scene of the attack, and she cries out when she sees the corpses of those not as fortunate as herself. I guide her away from them, avoiding the blood that’s both pooled and spattered across the ground.
We don’t talk much on our journey, and I’m glad of the silence. The guilt I’m experiencing is unbearable. Because of what I achieved descending the mountain, I grew overly confident. Thought I knew more than I did. And when I tried to weave magic I can’t control, I only succeeded in damaging this poor woman. My guess is that the strength of her love for the child meant that the minute I’d restored enough of her life for her to survive, she broke free of me and returned to her body – before I could finish the spell. Not that there’s any guarantee I could have even finished it properly. I should have listened to Tomas – he always was wiser than I.
Now my arrogance has left her mind empty and I have no idea whether she’ll ever recover those memories.
I try hard to silence the voice whispering that even without any knowledge I was still able to bring someone back from the edge of death, that such power was within my grasp. I try to ignore that my body feels oddly hollow now the magic has subsided, that I want more than anything to feel that heat again.
We reach the harbour by early evening, and I’m instantly wary of any guards. The good thing about travelling with another woman, though, is that I don’t look so much like a fugitive, and the handful of guards who are stationed at the town’s entrance barely give us more than a cursory glance.
Still, the last thing I want to do is draw too much attention to us, and so I take the woman directly to the harbour itself. The quickest way to find information is to ask someone, but there’s the chance of being recognised. I target an older woman selling fish. She’s more likely to take pity on my injured friend than anyone else I can see, and less likely to know my face.
‘Excuse me,’ I say with as much warmth as possible. ‘Can you help us?’
Her eyes instantly narrow with suspicion. ‘That very much depends.’
I keep my smile bright. ‘Have you heard of a ship called The Black Nightshade?’
There’s nothing friendly in the shift of her features. ‘Who wants to know?’
I change tactic and drop both my smile and my voice. ‘My friend was attacked on her way here. She has no memory of who she is. The only item on her person was this.’ I hold out the worn piece of paper and the old woman considers what I’ve said.
‘What’s your part in all this?’
‘I found her on the road. I’m just trying to help.’
The old woman fixes a hard gaze on me. ‘Why?’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘I could hardly leave her to fend for herself, could I?’
‘You don’t want money?’
I shake my head.
‘Good, cos you won’t get any. That’s Raoul’s ship. He’d more likely skin you than pay you.’
‘Raoul?’ The mysterious ‘R’.
‘You’ll find him in the tavern. And you best be as honest as you say you are, missy, or he’ll have your head.’
Great. Though her warning doesn’t scare me, the last thing I need is another problem.
I thank her for her time, then guide the woman and child towards the inn.
Before we enter, I squeeze her arm. ‘Does the name Raoul ring any bells?’
She shakes her head; she’s like a rabbit caught in a trap.
‘Don’t worry. Just let me do the talking.’
I’d rather not venture into a tavern, which is likely to be as full of bandits as it is sailors. I hope I look as far from the Viper as I think I do.
No one glances up at our entrance and I feel some tension slip from my shoulders. I scan the room for someone who might be a captain that commands such respect and fear. Seated in a far corner are a group of men and women who, while laughing and drinking, are alert. One man stands out from the rest. From the way he holds himself and the way the others act round him I can tell he’s important – and dangerous. His skin is as black as his clothes, thick hair runs like ropes down his back, and the fire in his eyes blazes so fiercely I can see it even from this distance. Raoul.
‘Stay here,’ I say to the woman, who’s hovering nervously by the door. ‘If anything bad happens, run.’
This is possibly the wrong thing to say because she looks ready to flee right now, but I give her arm a pat and then head towards the table where the group is sitting drinking.
When I approach, several of the men stand up, hands on the hilts of their swords. Raoul waves them down, deeming me no threat.
‘Gentlemen, that’s no way to greet a lady,’ he says, flashing me a smile that has no warmth in it. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Are you Raoul?’
‘Seems to me if you’re asking, you already know the answer.’
‘Does this mean anything to you?’ I hold out the letter and watch as his face changes, real emotion replacing his façade for a moment.
He’s on his feet with his knife at my neck in a heartbeat.
‘Where did you get this?’
‘Let’s all just calm down, shall we?’ And I press my own blade firmly at his guts, just so he knows I’m no pushover.
He releases me and we both hold our hands up to show willing.
‘Tell me where you got that.’
‘It belongs to my friend.’ I gesture towards the door. ‘Do you know her?’
Raoul’s face lights up now, and I see a look I recognise. Love. He starts towards her. ‘Lilah!’
But the woman, whose name is apparently Lilah, steps back, cradling the baby close to her. Raoul hesitates, turning to me with uncertainty.
‘She’s had an accident,’ I say, and gesture for Lilah to join us, which she does with some reluctance. When we’re quietly seated, with Raoul’s crew surrounding us, I resume the story.
‘And you don’t remember anything? You don’t remember me?’ Raoul sounds hurt as Lilah shakes her head.
‘I don’t even know the name of the baby.’ Her voice trembles.
‘Bay,’ Raoul says. ‘Our child is called Bay.’
Oh, this is messy.
Raoul turns to me. ‘She was supposed to meet me here this morning. We’ve been waiting for her.’