Blood Knot

Chapter One:

Avoca groaned as another huge wave crashed upon the side of the merchant ship, making her little cabin sway and her stomach lurch uneasily. She lay on the straw mattress, one weak hand grasping at the dagger she wore at her belt. The great vessel creaked, grunting under the pressure of the uncontrollable sea and piles of goods. Avoca's head echoed the pain, and she turned on her side. She needed sleep, to regain all her lost strength and to forget the discomfort of the journey. But sleep wouldn't come to her. The ship drove into the water once again and Avoca felt her breakfast coming up. It was all she could do to rush to open the cabin door, grappling with the handle. She forced the food back down, refusing to succumb to the weakness as she stumbled onto deck, and threw up over the side.

Her breathing slowed and she closed her eyes, letting the cool afternoon breeze ruffle her soft chestnut hair. The salty water sprayed up on her face, and her throbbing headache eased off for a moment. Avoca sank to the deck, curling up with her knees under her chin. She sat like that for a moment, before feeling eyes upon her. A boy was peering down at her from the rigging. Hand flying to the dagger, she stood in one fluid motion. Then the boat rocked and she promptly fell over.

She was sprawled on the deck with the boy chortling down at her. Gripping the railings, she heaved herself up to a standing position. A dangerous glint came into her eyes as she glared up at the boy. 'What do you want?' She said. Her voice was like an icicle; ice cold and piercing. He sobered up pretty quickly.

'Nothin', captain said t'come check on ya. Tis bad luck to die on board he says.' He grinned at her a little nervously. When she said nothing his grin faded. 'Well, erm, I'll go tell 'im yer not dead,' he said with an agitated laugh.

Avoca continued to stare at him with her cool grey eyes, taking in his gangly frame and acne riddled face. He squirmed self consciously. The corner of her mouth turned up and she turned her back on him. Leaning on the thick wood railings, she stared out to sea, hating the water, hating the turquoise colour and the suns beating down on the back of her neck. Her head was throbbing again, and she was, above all, hating how weak the sea sickness made her. She lowered her head into her arms, pressing her fingertips into her temples. She was startled to hear a small cough.

'Are you still here?' she snapped, not taking her head from her arms.

'Well, er, Avoca, that's how ye say yer name right?' he said looking for confirmation. She raised her head and stared at him, expressionless.

'Erm, the weathers lookin' good tonight and the crew are havin' a bi' of a drink an' stuff, and erm, I was wond'rin', erm-'

'You're rambling,' Avoca said. 'Stop.' She lowered her head again.

'Right, sorry.' He looked abashed. 'Do ye wanna join us in the drinkin'? I mean, it perks ye up a bit and it'll put warmth in yer bones. It'll make ye feel better and you won't be so weak-'

Without any warning Avoca was pressing him against the side of the ship. They were so close it would have been intimate if not for the dagger that threatened to slice open the boy's throat. Her lips were twisted in a sneer, her breath was warm against his skin. The young sailor was petrified into stillness, not moving with shock and fear of the cool steel at his neck. His flesh felt thin and papery compared to the merciless sharp edge of the dagger. Avoca looked down to see beads of crimson already glittering on her silver blade.

'What did you say?' Her voice was soft and deadly, making the boy whimper.

'I don' know!' he said.