Moonlight Rebel Read Online Free Page B

It never occurred to her to think that he might be frightened as well. Fear was an emotion she attributed to herself and other people. She considered her father to be a little above the realm of normal people, always brave and strong, never at a loss for a course of action. She adored him.
    She slipped her hand into his, unmindful of the first mate and the others on the dock. She needed to draw on his strength and to feel protected by his presence.
    "Looks like your brother couldn't make it." The first mate's voice broke their moment of privacy. His eyes searched the area as he spoke.
    "He doesn't work for himself. His time is not his own." Still, Stefan looked around again, hoping against hope.
    But it was the first mate, not Stefan, who was rewarded with a familiar face. "Ah, here's my friend now. We'll take care of you."
    He pointed off into the distance, and out in the shadows, Krystyna thought she could see the form of a man sitting on top of a coverless wagon. She watched him approach as she wondered at the mate’s choice of words.
    "We'll take care of you," he repeated, and she thought she detected a bit of an accent. A Polish accent. But if that were true, wouldn't he have approached them sooner, on the ship, and made himself known? She told herself that she was just homesick and searching for someone from home. The crew members hadn't been Polish, and there was no reason to believe that this man was either. It was just her imagination.
    Krystyna looked toward her father. His florid face was pensive. He doesn't trust this man either, she thought. With mounting apprehension, she looked around for the captain, who had been making transactions not too far away from them only a few moments ago. But he was gone.
    Having kept his word to Kosciusko and delivered them safely to their destination, the captain felt his job was done.
    He left, giving the two passengers no more thought than he would his cargo. His responsibility there was over as well. What he needed now was to make his way to the tavern and sample his first brew and his first woman in weeks. There was no room in his mind for any other details.
    As the man in the wagon approached and came clearly into view, illuminated by the full moon that broke through a hole in the misty haze which engulfed the harbor, Krystyna found herself repelled by what she saw. And what she smelled. The man had not bathed in months, she guessed. Even in the cramped quarters aboard ship, she had managed to bathe, albeit taking great pains to do so. How could anyone allow himself to get into such a state? she wondered as she looked at the man's unkempt clothing. He was wearing what appeared to be the tanned skins of animals. He looked like a savage to her.
    Krystyna glanced uncertainly toward her father and missed the wink that went between the man in the wagon and Peter, the mate. The former patted his breast pocket reassuringly.
    Suddenly, the first mate took both Krystyna and her father by the arm and boldly escorted them toward the wagon. He grabbed Krystyna firmly by the waist and deposited her into the back. With a leer on his lips he took no trouble to hide, his hands slid down to her legs as be made a show of tucking them further into the corner.
    "See here!" the Count began indignantly as Krystyna shrank back from the man's touch. It brought back the revulsion she had felt the evening Andrej had tried to force himself on her. Instinct drove her away that time too. She looked at Peter with growing distrust and fear.
    "Only being helpful to the boy, sir," Peter said cheerfully, his hands on the Count's shoulders, ready to push him into the wagon.
    "But you have no idea where we are trying to go," the Count protested. He checked an urge to jump from the wagon and flee with Krystyna.
    But it began to move as Peter hoisted himself up next to them. "I have a rough idea."
    There is no way he can know of our destination, Krystyna thought. Her father would not have told him or the captain.