So Worthy My Love by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss Page B

skimmed through the water she could see the black bulk of the shore on either side. The tall shadows of the sail and the men were silhouetted against the quicksilver shine of the river, and behind them a mottled wake stretched out into darkness. As the night aged and the constant creaking of the mast lulled her senses, Elise dragged the fur robes close over her shoulder and, having some assurance that the men were on a specific mission and not intent upon rape or murder, finally yielded to sleep.
    It seemed only a moment later when a dull thump disturbed Elise’s slumber, and her eyelidsflicked suddenly open. She stared aloft where the twigs and branches of a huge tree formed an airy canopy high above her small, floating bed. Beyond the far-reaching limbs, low clouds of a dreary gray hue scudded across the bleak sky while brisk breezes rattled the branches, tossing them to and fro. Leaves were whipped into a frenzied flight and, in jubilant freedom, pirouetted before her captive gaze, before slowly settling in a zigzagging descent and coming to rest upon her furry robes. The swirling, strengthening gusts cavorted like some mindless, invisible sprites through the woods, scudding over the river and rippling the surface with its breath. Secured by the long painter, the boat skimmed sideways over the water until it bumped against a fallen log, then as if beckoned, it drifted back to the reeds growing alongside the bank.
    On another day Elise might have enjoyed the interlude, but awareness of her circumstances dispelled any leisured thoughts of pleasure. The snoring cacophony of the two men rent the peace of the morning, bringing a reminder of her captivity. She bit her lip in anguish as she tried to move, realizing the struggles of the past evening had left her unmercifully stiff and sore. She stretched carefully until her aching muscles began to loosen and she could lift herself to a sitting position. Her gaze immediately found Fitch sleeping on shore beneath the very same tree which sheltered her. The man had removed his jerkin and spread a cloak beneath him as protection against the damp chill of his leafy bed, putting the leather jerkin to use as a pillow beneath his head.
    Almost lazily her eyes followed the long painter from the prow, moving upward along its taut line to a spot where it was double-looped around an overhanging branch. There it had been tied back upon itself to keep the boat some distance from shore. Except for the growing wind it might have remained where the men had planned it to stay.
    Her gaze continued to trace the path of the rope from the knot, down along a loosely dangling dip, back up into the tree near the crotch of a limb where she spied Spence. He had obviously drawn the last watch and had climbed into the tree where he could keep an eye on her from above. He had wrapped the loose end of the painter several times around his ankle to further secure the boat lest he should doze, and apparently had felt safe enough to fall asleep on his perch, for his snores rivaled those of his earthbound companion.
    Elise studied her choices. If she managed to climb from the boat when it bumped against the fallen log, her ankle was just sore enough to prevent her from fleeing swiftly on foot. To escape in the boat was her best choice, but even if she managed to extricate the rope from the branch, there would still be Spence to contend with.
    Even as she watched, fate took a hand and set in motion a chain of events that would have astounded a casual observer. The wind had risen, and the current swung the boat outward until the painter stretched tight. The well-chafed branch could no longer stand the strain and suddenly snapped with a splintering c-r-r-a-a-c-k. The broken limb plummeted into the water, freeing the knot. The boat shotoutward into the stronger current, and Elise seized hold of the sides as the wind filled and then took aback the loosened sail. As she was the only weight aboard and situated well