well, to all those that reviewed last chapter, here's an erik clone for y'all!
omg, another chapter! sorry for the lengthy wait time. junior year of high school is rough. but i'll try to have the next chapter up this weekend. there's a half day tomorrow so i'll devot my time to getting you another chapter, but i think you'll like this one
Chapter Three
The sea winds whipped the small island of Port Royal, as if threatening it to dare and stand so proud against the vast, engulfing sea and the mighty winds. But it was the wind that held pride, for it couldn't stand to see the puny rock immune its devastating power that it reaped upon sailing ships.
Walking the streets of Port Royal, Christine welcomed the wind blowing on her face. Well, usually. Today, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her. It had been with her since she left the docks. On her way out, she had seen a wild haired man, dressed in worn clothes and a tri-corner hat. But in the shadows, she hadn't been able to make out his face.
Glancing behind herself for what seemed like the hundredth time, she surveyed the busy street. Nothing. But sometimes, she caught a glimpse of a dark shadow with wild hair dodging out of sight.
Christine sped up as she reached her street, home in sight. It was a plain, white stucco house with brown beams, small, but big enough that four people could live comfortably inside. The window shutters were thrown wide open and smoke was steadily rising in a thin, grey curl. It was heaven.
On the back of the house however, was the smith, which was on a completely different street. And quite different from the cozy house. Rough, and made from brown wooden boards, the smith was a workplace and nothing else. Uncle James and Will knew that. While they spent most of the day there, they always came home for dinner, then later for supper and stayed the rest of the night.
They would be in the kitchen now, waiting her arrival. She would be safe from whoever the wildhaired man was, just in the presence of her uncle and cousin.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Christine thought she saw the shadow again. Running now, Christine reached home in a matter of seconds, tearing the door open and rushing into the kitchen. Aunt Margaret was in the kitchen, and gave a huge jump as Christine clambered in.
"Now, what's gotten in to you?" she reproved, taking in Christine's wild hair, heavy breathing, and panicked eyes. "You look like you've seen a ghost!" Suddenly, her eyes widened and Aunt Margaret let out a huge gasp. "Have you been attacked? Has some man hurt you?"
Christine opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off when Aunt Margaret's meaty arms engulfed, cutting off her air. She felt strong, yet gentle hands stroke her hair, their owner making quiet shushing noises. "There, there, my love. Its alright."
Smiling slightly, Christine pulled out of Aunt Margaret's steal embrace, only because she had built some muscle (albeit invisible muscle) while working with Piangi. Looking her aunt directly in the eye, she said in a soothing voice, "Nothing has happened to me. I was merely a bit spooked after one of Piangi's stories. And I most certainly did not want to keep you waiting for your fish." Christine grinned at her aunt in full humor, hoping that the deep worry lines would recede from her beloved aunt's face.
But Margaret would not be fooled so easily.
"Do not even try to fool me with false tales of sea lore's and fish. You are not one so easily frightened by tales." She was hysterical now, pacing the kitchen and wringing her hands. "You are not telling me the truth, please what happened?"
The pleading in the older woman's eyes completely undid her. Christine firmly grasped her aunt's hands and looked her straight in the eyes, youthful brown meeting wise grey. "I think I was shadowed by a man, a suspicious looking man. I saw him at the docks and I occasionally caught a glimpse of him as I came home. That's why I was so scared." Christine noticed her aunt's terrified expression, terror that went so much deeper than just of a man stalking a pretty girl. To appease the terror, she added, "It was probably a product of my overactive imagination."
"Yes, that must be it." Aunt Margaret didn't sound very convinced, in fact, she was acting rather scatterbrained, as if in a false show of belief. To elevate this uncharacteristic display of nervousness, Christine said in her most cheerful voice, "So, where are Uncle James and Will?"
"Oh, they are at the fort doing repairs. They won't be back until supper."
Christine froze in the process of fixing herself a light sandwich. Uncle and Will, not at home? The thought filled her with a sort of vulnerability that consumed her. Oh, Christine knew how to take care of herself, as she had learned swordplay and marksmanship alongside Will, but the presence of the two men always filled her with a calm sense of protection. It was rather unnerving not to have them around.
Aunt Margaret didn't seem to notice Christine's woes and before either could open their mouths, there was a knock at the door.
Surprised, both women raised their heads and went to the front door. Aunt Margaret got there first, so Christine was forced to stay behind her as the caller was revealed.
She opened the door, and there stood a man.
A man in dark, worn clothes.
A man with long, wild hair.
The man from the port!
He was tall, well over six feet. He was broad shouldered and Christine could tell that strong, rippling muscles hid beneath his jacket. He wore a leather mask covering the right side of his face, which intrigued Christine. Perhaps he's the Sea Ghost! Christine thought with a silent giggle. But it wasn't the mask that intrigued Christine the most, it was his eyes. Beautiful, sea green eyes that bore such wildness and intensity that Christine felt a sudden nakedness, as if her soul was bared for all the world to see.
Of course, that could just be because he was looking directly at her.
Aunt Margaret noticed the stranger's gaze and coughed rather loudly saying, "Sir, may I help you?"
"No madam, you cannot. But I believe that this young lady can." Oh God, his voice! Christine had never heard such velvety richness in all her life. His voice reeked of power and was absolutely bursting with seduction. So sensual was his voice that Christine gasped ever so slightly. Aunt Margaret didn't notice, but the man did.
And his eyes were still locked with hers.
Annoyed, portly woman irritably replied, "Sir, I do not like this tone of yours and I would be grateful if you would leave my niece alone." Erik finally tore his gaze from the lovely girl and glanced at the short woman before him. Niece? Well, this makes things interesting. He raised his visible eyebrow and made his intentions known. Well, not all of them. "Madam, I do not intend what you assume I do. I merely would like to be directed to a tavern where I can stay the night and I believe your niece could help me with that." Erik drew his gaze back to the girl, pleased to see the look of wonder on her face.
"You're that man that was stalking her! I swear I will bring every soldier in town upon you and have them hang you from the nearest tree!"
Aunt Margaret's yelling brought Christine out of her trance like state. She couldn't let her do this! Christine had to know who this man was, even if it meant lying to her aunt and complying with his request. Her curiosity had been aroused, and not even the danger of going to a tavern with a strange man could control it.
"Aunt Margaret, stop this! This is not the man I told you about." Christine turned from her aunt before her shocked and hurt face would weaken her resolve. Turning to the man, she drew up to her full height, which was very diminutive compared to him, and said, "I will help you find your tavern sir."
Leaving her shell-shocked aunt behind, Christine walked out the door and left headed out with the man. As he looped his arm into hers, Christine noticed he wore and smug and triumphant grin.
What have I gotten myself into?
what a cliffie! laughs evilly you better review if you want that next chapter! you see, i found that bribing works! go enjoy those erik clones!