The Deep (19 page)

When he finally returns home, I have put my
time to good use by putting on a kettle to make tea. Saul has
evidently been on a hunt, because he’s clutching two dead rabbits
in his hands. Or maybe they ran into one of his traps. He’s not
carrying a weapon.

His eyes scan me inquisitively. “What’s
wrong?” he says. Apparently he can tell that I’m upset.

“Finn is dead.”

Saul puts the rabbits down on the table where
two steaming mugs of tea are waiting. “How?”

“He drowned,” I whisper.

I know Saul is afraid of water. It took both
of his parents. Yet, he dove into the sea past the surf to get my
shawl without hesitation.

“He walked into the sea just like that?” He
stands beside me and picks up one of the mugs. “Good. That means he
solved his own problem.”

“I guess.” His cold, harsh words make me
flinch. Finn and he have been neighbors for quite some time, after
all. “And Bram won’t be back either, I think. The Bookkeeper told
him to get off the island.”

“What, like right now?”

“No, that’s impossible. But he’s expected to
sail out with the next available ship going to the Other Side.”

Saul nods briefly. “Well. You want to help me
skin those rabbits?” His mouth curls up in a teasing grin when I
bite my lip. Though I love hunting, I’m not a big fan of the
inevitable work afterwards. Saul knows exactly which chores I
hate.

“I can get some fresh carrots from the
garden,” I hastily suggest.

“You go and do that,” he says amusedly.

Saul’s garden is overflowing with ripe
vegetables, so I decide to pick some spinach too. As I dump some
leaves into the basket I brought along, I’m softly humming a
wistful tune. It makes me realize I feel at home here way too much.
It’s as if Saul is a part of my family. He’s like the brother I
never had. No, not like a brother. I know I don’t really believe
that, but I push the truth I can’t accept far away.

“You got another knife?” I ask when I’m back
at the table. “I need to scrape off the carrots.”

Saul glances up. “In the cabin,” he replies.
“In that chest under my bed. They’re a bit blunter than this
one.”

We prepare our meal in silence. Saul gets a
bigger cauldron from Bram’s hut – the priest won’t be needing it
anymore, he says – so we can make a lot of stew at once. He hands
me a basket of potatoes and pours the two of us another round of
tea.

I watch him as he rinses the rabbit blood off
his hands in the bucket on the table. A strange feeling of
confusion nestles in my stomach. Why does this guy fascinate me so
much? Is it because he has managed to heal me despite his own
wounds? Is it because he terrifies me but shows me his soft side
every now and then? I honestly don’t know. He calls to me like the
light in the watchtowers used to try to draw in the Fleet that
never showed – the glow is alluring, but I won’t come closer than
this.

When Saul suddenly turns his head and locks
eyes with me, I stare at him as if frozen. The ghost of a smile
dances around his lips.

“Sorry,” I mumble, flustered. My knees feel
weak.

“For what?” he asks.

“I didn’t mean to gawk at you.”

“So why did you?” he comments shrewdly.

I glare at him. “Because you… I don’t know,
actually.”

Saul doesn’t respond, but I can’t help
noticing he’s slowly inching closer. “You stare at me a lot,” he
continues calmly, as though the observation isn’t embarrassing at
all. “You do it when you think I can’t see.”

“No, I don’t.” I’m lying, and I can’t lie
without blushing, so I stare doggedly at my feet.

He slowly breathes in and out. “Look at
me.”

Gingerly, I raise my head.

“Do I remind you of him?” he says, so quietly
that I almost can’t make out the words.

“Who?” My voice is too hoarse. He knows that
I know fully well who he’s talking about.

Saul takes another step forward and stands
there, his face just a few inches away from me. “Yorrick,” he
mumbles.

My cheeks burn. “No. Absolutely not. You
don’t even look like him.”

He nods, a tired smile tugging at his mouth.
“Maybe that’s a blessing.”

I blink dazedly. “W-why?” I stutter.

Saul leans into me. “You would have felt
guilty otherwise,” he whispers. His warm hand softly caresses my
cheek before he captures my mouth with his.

My heart skips a beat. Even though I saw it
coming, it still takes my breath away with surprise. And fear. And
happiness. I don’t push him away when he loops his arms around my
waist and deepens the kiss. Instead, I respond to his kiss with
fire on my lips, and my body shivers with desire when I hear him
moan softly, his breathing speeding up. Holy Annabelle, this is a
bad idea. A
very
bad idea.

The carrot knife clatters down on the table
as my fingers trail down his spine. His lips open mine and I can’t
help myself – I melt away in his arms.

When I finally break away from the kiss, Saul
looks at me from up close, his hand tenderly stroking my arm.

“You make me feel like I could be good,” he
whispers.

His words move me deeply. “But you can,” I
say hotly.

He emits a bitter laugh. “No, not
really.”

“That’s what you said about Ben. And he
started a new life, too.”

Saul pulls me into a warm embrace, his mouth
against my forehead. “You give me hope. Beautiful girl from Hope
Harbor,” he says at last.

I feel myself blush. “I’m not that beautiful.
I bet you had prettier girls in that manor of yours. Different girl
every night.” A hint of jealousy stabs at my heart.

He sighs deeply. “Yes, but that was
different.”

“Why?”

“That wasn’t friendship. It was just
sex.”

His vulgar words make me self-conscious. “I
don’t do that sort of thing if I’m not in love,” I mutter.

“I know.” Saul strokes my hair. “You’re a
good person, Alisa. I get it if you just want to stay friends. Or
maybe not even friends.”

I gaze up, straight into his dark,
self-doubting eyes. “I think we’re more than just friends.”

“Yeah.” He looks serious. “Me too.”

I want to tell him what else I think – that
this is not a good idea. That it will only lead to heartache. But
the words blow away in the wind coming in from the sea to whisper
over the clearing. If I’d been serious about keeping my distance, I
would have had to step away from Saul a long time ago. “I’m
scared,” I say instead.

“Me too,” he admits without blinking.

“Of what?” I stare at him in surprise. Saul
doesn’t strike me as the type to scare easily.

“Of losing this. Like I partly lost Ben. He
was the only person I ever cared about.”

I slowly snake my arms around his waist and
press a kiss to his cheek. “Maybe we should just take it day by
day. You won’t lose me that quickly. I’m Ben’s messenger, remember?
I come here every day.”

Saul suddenly chuckles. “Yeah, Ben made sure
of that.”

“Huh?” I blink my eyes.

He dips his head and mumbles against my
mouth: “I asked him to write me back every day, Alisa. Because I
knew you’d bring me his letters. Ben isn’t such a chatterbox by
nature, you know.”

“What the…” I stare at him indignantly.
“You mean you weren’t looking forward to hearing from Ben at
all?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Of course I was. I know
Ben wanted to keep his distance, but he’s always so willing to be
helpful to me. This way, I got mail from him every day and I got to
see you as a bonus. Two birds with one stone, is what we call it
over here.”

My jaw drops. “You are way too good at
manipulating people, you know that?”

“I do know that.” He shrugs. “How do you
think I managed to become leader of the manor house? Max and Cal
are both stronger than I am. I’m just a lot smarter.”

I don’t know what to say, so I decide to say
nothing. Instead, I lean my head against his chest and close my
eyes when the scent of cooked rabbit and herbs drifts into my
nostrils. In my mind’s eye, I can almost imagine how
picture-perfect homey we look, standing together like this – if
only the whole thing wasn’t so wrong.

Saul lowers his head to give me a gentle kiss
on the mouth. “Shall we…” he starts out, but he never gets to
finish his sentence. The words lodge in his throat when we hear
agitated shouting in the distance. The clamor sounds like it’s
caused by scores of people. And they don’t seem to be very
happy.

“What the deep is that?” I hiss.

“Another revolt?” Saul wonders aloud. He
takes my hand and pulls me along. “Let’s go to the square. I think
that’s where those people are.”

After we’ve crossed the clearing, made our
way through the forest and left the graveyard behind us, we stop on
top of the hill bordering on the village hall, our eyes wide as we
take in what’s happening below.

The angry mob in the square consists of about
a hundred Hope Harborers with sticks, burning torches, axes, and
rocks. And heading the troupe is Phileas, a wild look burning in
his eyes.

“Who in Dark Father’s name is that?” Saul
whispers. He has pulled me behind a tall tombstone to stay out of
sight and is craning his neck to look around the gravemarker,
observing the small army that has gathered in front of the village
hall. Phileas is clearly in charge.

“T-that’s the man who sabotaged our
shipbuilding efforts,” I stammer.

“Well, it looks like someone blabbed about
the secret shipyard.” Saul’s mouth is set in a hard line. “But this
time they won’t lay a finger on those ships. They’ll have to get
through me first.”

“You want to try and stop all these people by
yourself?” I ask nonplussed.

“No.” Saul takes my hand and we retreat into
the woods. “We’ll circle the village and go to the youngster
school. We can get help there. Those few assistants working for the
Eldest won’t be able to stop those attackers.”

“He’s not even there himself,” I falter. “He
went to the harbor with the Bookkeeper to show him the new
ships.”

We run as fast as our feet can carry us.
Tears burn in my eyes as I run down the forest path. According to
Saul, this road leads us past the village and connects with a
smaller track leading up to the manor house. How has Phileas found
out about us building ships here? Someone must have betrayed us.
But this time, he has really gone too far. If Phileas attacks this
side of the island, he’ll be thrown into jail. Nathan won’t
tolerate this.

I know my way around the manor house thanks
to the grand tour the Eldest gave me. Saul goes straight for the
main doors and bursts into a classroom on the left. I follow him
and stare into the faces of about thirty flabbergasted students and
four teachers.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a
dark-blonde teacher with a moustache finally protests. “You’re
disturbing our class.”

“The village is under attack,” Saul pants,
completely out of breath. “By Fools. They want to destroy the
ships.”

“They’re in the central square now,” I add.
“Please help us.”

The teacher gets up immediately. “Leave
everything on your desks,” he tells the youngsters. “We need to get
to Newexter right now.”

“But not before we grab some weapons,” Saul
says, turning toward the students. “Pete, Han – you’re the best
archers. Take Rio, Mia, and Luke to grab some stuff, they aren’t
bad either. Obi, you grab some spears and clubs and distribute them
among the rest. This is a group hunt, got it?”

I’m surprised at how efficiently Saul manages
the children, but even more amazed at how well they all listen.
They might still see him as their leader. It helps that he knows
his former subjects’ strengths – he knows exactly what to leave in
whose capable hands. They get up in one movement and rush toward
several rooms in the house to do what Saul ordered them to do. In
no time we are all outside on the lawn – thirty heavily-armed
soldiers ready for battle. We might be few compared to Phileas’s
army, but they weren’t carrying any hunting weapons, as far as I
could tell.

“The first thing we do is lure them away from
their goal,” Saul addresses the group, his eyes scanning the crowd.
“This is not just a Hope Harbor project, it belongs to all of you.
All of us. You have worked hard on these ships, and so the last
thing we need is for some Fools to torch them out of spite.”

“How do you intend to distract them?” the
girl he called by the name of Mia asks.

“We circle the village and attach from the
north,” Saul replies. “They’ll probably think the shipyard is up on
the northern beach. “

“But that’s where Newmanor is,” one of the
teachers protests.

“Cal and Max are strong enough to defend
their new settlement,” Saul argues. “Besides, it’s even better if
they join the fight.”

“Should we just ward off the attack?” another
boy inquires.

“No.” Saul clenches his fists. “These people
will only stop this madness if we show them we mean business. Shoot
to kill, and make sure every shot counts.”

My breath hitches. I know Saul is right, but
I know the attackers personally. Admittedly, I wouldn’t weep if
Phileas ended up with a spear lodged in his back, but there are
less militant people among his followers huddled together in the
village center. One of the younger Phileans used to be my
classmate. The grocer always sells us dried mint leaves at a
discount.

“Please,” I beg him softly as we take off
again, the entire group on our heels. “Let’s just scare them off.
Those people don’t all deserve to die. They’ve just been revved up
by Phileas and his stupid ideals.”

“They should have thought about that before
coming here,” Saul replies unrelentingly. His jaw is tense, and his
hands around the bow and arrow he’s grabbed are so tight that his
knuckles have turned white.