The Ships of Aleph Read Online Free Page B

moment I thought she had not understood me. Then she whispered, ‘Merel’.
    I wanted to ask where she came from and how she had got here, but first I wanted to put her at her ease. ‘Are you hungry, Merel?’ I asked. She looked like she would benefit from a decent meal.
    She nodded.
    ‘I have food. You can share it with me.’
    She relaxed a little, then asked, ‘What is this place?’ She had a strange accent, with longer vowels and a downward intonation even when asking a question.
    ‘It’s where I live,’ I replied, not untruthfully, then added, ‘But you are welcome to share what I have.’
    My answer appeared to satisfy her, but my mind raced as I led her downstairs. I made myself stay silent, and gestured for her to sit. I got down utensils for the two of us, and we broke bread and ate. She held the bread close to her mouth and tore lumps off with her teeth.
    Finally I could resist no longer. ‘Where are you from, Merel?’
    ‘My village is on the Coast of Shoals, but ...’ she looked down for a moment, long dark eyelashes dipping over pale cheeks, ‘ ... I was taken by sea-raiders. How long ago, I cannot tell.’
    The Coast of Shoals is a fascinating place; many writers have investigated its mysteries. I said, ‘I would love to hear tales of your homeland, Merel.’
    Again the downcast eyes. ‘If you wish.’
    Something in the way she spoke pricked at me. Carefully I asked, ‘Did the sea-raiders ... keep you on their ship?’
    She nodded, and the flush of colour to her cheeks confirmed my suspicions. I felt my own face grow hot. I stood up. ‘I will find you something to wear. Wait here.’
    I knew the other rooms had items similar to those I would expect to find, so I looked in my sister’s clothes-chest. I came back with a tunic and skirt to find Merel sitting where I had left her. She appeared more relaxed. I decided it was not unreasonable to ask one more question.
    ‘Do you know how you got here?’
    She frowned. ‘I’m not sure. They kept me below-decks most of the time. I think the ship got caught in the Current, and there was a storm. I heard them shouting, and the ship was tossed around. One of the water-barrels came loose. The last thing I remember was seeing the barrel heading towards me. I closed my eyes ... and woke up here.’ She turned to me, and I tried not to look at the curve of her throat, the warm, soft skin leading lower. ‘Can I really stay?’
    ‘Of course. You can have the room you woke up in if you like.’
    She smiled, which made her look even younger. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
     
    ***
     
    I got little study done that day. I told Merel we were alone here, and she would be safe provided she stayed near the village, information she accepted without question. When I mentioned I had work to do she said she would be content by herself. As far as I could tell she meant it, so I returned to my books. But my mind kept coming back to my visitor, both to the many questions her unexpected appearance raised and to the simple presence of a living, breathing woman.
    When I returned to the cottage she asked, shyly, whether she might get clean. She had seen the tin bath hanging in the outhouse and wished to use it. I saw no reason why not, and we heated water on the stove. When the bath was full I muttered an excuse about unfinished work and went out. I paced the bounds of the village as night came on, trying not to think of Merel, naked in the warm water.
    I returned to find her already abed, for which I was grateful. She had even managed to empty the bath by herself.
    I slept badly that night, and once thought I heard Merel cry out. I nearly went to her, but remembered the sting of trackleburs on my skin, and disciplined myself to remain in my room.
    As dawn lightened behind the shutters, I resolved to consider my visitor as a source of information, a living book, though also to treat her gently, for she had obviously suffered at the hands of men. Having categorised her to my