The Nightingale

Chapter Eleven

By the time Natasha reached the shore, she was soaking, shivering and even more exhausted. The boat that she had used earlier in the afternoon to travel to shore with Alexander and Jack had still hung partially down the side of the ship, and she had managed to work the ropes enough to get the boat within feet of the water before they stuck, suspending the small rowboat over the rocking waves. Natasha threw her legs over the side of the ship then, and, while holding on to one of the ropes to keep the rowboat flush against the side of the boat and scaled down its side, wedging the tips of her fingers in between planks of wood and walking her fingers down the boards to find knots that she could grab hold of. It was more challenging than any tree she had scaled, and by the time her feet landed in the swaying rowboat, her arms were shaking, her fingers pink and indented from gripping the smallest of edges.

With no other means to close the distance between the rowboat and the dark water, she took her sword in one hand and her dagger in the other, slicing through the ropes as evenly as she could. The drop had nearly tipped her over and the contact with the ocean had filled her boat with water that almost sank her as she tried desperately to scoop some of the water out from around her feet. More so, she was sure that her efforts to get overboard, the splash she had created, and the curses that followed as the icy water soaked through her clothes would have garnered the attention of somebody on board, but nobody came, leaving her to take up the oars and clumsily maneuver the small boat forward.

The effort it took to row herself to shore left her sweating, her arms quaking with fatigue every time she tried to move the oars. When trying to get out in the shallows to pull the boat up the sand she had fallen in, drenching herself completely in cold salt water. Her cloak now hung heavily around her neck and shoulders, weighing her down as she moved, and water sloshed through her boats with each step that she took as it slowly seeped out through the new leather as she made her way up the beach before pausing to turn around.

Looking back at the massive ship looming in the dark, she had doubts about whether or not she would be able to get back on her own. With the idea of turning back seeming almost as daunting as pushing on, Natasha moved across the sand towards the only way she knew how to get back, the same cave that she had escaped through, running for her life.

It didn't take long for her to realize that path was no longer an option. As she approached the tunnel she had used she found it blocked by jagged rocks and boulders, none of which would come away no matter how much she tried to move them.

Hopelessness growing in her stomach, Natasha exited the cave but veered left this time, looking for another option. The beach on the other side was more rock than sand, and cliffs rose up in front of her, looking difficult to climb but not nearly as impossible as the mountains on the other side. Taking her chance, Natasha began to slowly scale the mouth of the cave, climbing the rock covered hill feeling thankful for the boots Anne had given her as their soles, despite still saturated with water, gave her necessary traction. They provided a small enough amount of grip that let her climb more easily than she had anticipated, adrenaline working through her system to override the pain she felt spreading from the tops of her fingers throughout the rest of her body, and she found herself atop the hill in less time than she had expected.

At the top of the mountains she paused once again, turning back to the ship she had left behind as she worked to steady her breath. Beyond her, the ocean and beach sprawled out, the massive ship still rocking lazily in the waves. For a moment, she believed she saw movement onboard the dark ship, a distant flicker of a lamp moving across the deck, but the longer she watched the vessel the more she thought it was her nervous mind playing tricks on her. For a moment longer, she watched it wistfully, wondering if this night would be the last she would see it, the last she would have spent with the men who saved her life. Although she had not known them long, she was indebted to them for saving her life, and for showing her even the smallest corner of the world beyond her little village, and if she didn't make it back, she was immensely thankful for the opportunity to escape that they had given her.