The Binding

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"You've become quite the little troublemaker."

      Fingers trailed along my skin, light, and fluttering across my ankles. They moved leisurely up to my knees. "More than most of my women, and between us, that is saying something." It was a man.

    The voice was soft, a vague mixture of seduction and threat. I couldn't open my eyes to see, but I could sense the infused, colorful light of his presence. There were other lights nearby, dimmer, less focused— dozens of them.  

    Where was I?

    "I'm fairly certain you can hear me by now. You look like hell." He almost sounded sympathetic but was too amused to qualify. "Your skin's grey, you need to wash your hair, and there is still a large hole in your head over your right eye." He grabbed my left hand and run his palm up my forearm. "You're still cold." The blanket covering me began to rustle and pull away from my feet. He curled his fingers around each of my feet.

    Adrenaline jumped and skittered over my body, and my heart beat wildly.

    My heart beat wildly!

    He moved away from me and walked to the other side of the room. I could tell I was in a small room. His footsteps echoed like the floor was hollow wood, and his voice remained close as if the walls were not far away. He dragged something across the floor behind him and set it near my head. A chair? His hand ran down my hair, starting at my scalp. Then I felt something firm and bristly run slowly through my hair.

    He was brushing my hair?

    The touch was both intoxicating and revolting. After so much emptiness, my body was exulting at the feeling, but I didn't want this man touching me. I just didn't know why.

    He fell into silence. A binding skipped across my ears and down my neck, making the hairs on my arms raise and ripple.

    I felt an intense chill. A dog barked twice, followed by a plaintive and intense whine. I flinched as icy water struck me with a penetrating force. The dog whined again mournfully, mixed with fear and misery. I saw him, crouched low between two wooden crates, his tail pulled between his legs. Water dripped from his fur as he quivered, either from fear or cold, I couldn't tell. I sighed in sympathy, helpless, as the whimpering grew louder. I tried to get my bearings when the ground lurched beneath me. My sense of balance pitched and spun, but I didn't fall. Strange. More glacial water rammed against me from behind.

    I realized everything was moving. I heard men screaming, echoing the dog's cries and wood cracking. Then I knew where I was and panicked. I spun around and stared out over the hull of a ship. Waves crashed against each other, sending massive sprays into the air. More screams pulled my attention from the water, and something loud cracked near my head. A red-haired man, barefoot and skin tinged with blood, appeared from behind the crates, clutching the ropes. The dog lowered himself closer to the deck and scooted toward the man, whimpering in relief and fear. The man crouched, corded muscles twisted, as he gripped the rope with his right hand and clutched the dog to him with his left.

    A man slid, arms and legs flailing wildly, across the deck and slammed into the bulkhead. Someone was shouting something, but I couldn't make out the words over the roar of the waves and the protests of the ship. The deck pitched and vaulted suddenly to the side, vertical to the water. I fell back against the deck. Crates slid down next to me. Instinct took over, and I tried to grab anything to hold on to. I slid and slammed into a wooden post, knocking the wind out of me. The mast? I hovered there for a few moments and watched the man and dog crash against the bulkhead and then spin headfirst over the railing into the water. A second later, I slid around the mast.