“Thank ye,” Nathan said, and neither one of them could believe the kindness of the gesture coming from him.
Nathan closed and locked the door, sniffing at the item curiously. He had a water skin hanging from his wrist as he turned the chunk of whatever it was over in his hand. He held it out toward her, curious and expectant. One look told her that it was ginger root, and she happily accepted it. Though it would befar better if it had been steeped into a tea of some sort, she was willing to take what she could get.
Slowly, Freya started to suck on one of the ends, chewing it where she could, as best as she could. Nathan opened the water skin, and winced.
“That cannae…” He muttered before bringing the water to his nose once more. He eyed the opening as if looking into the darkened skin would somehow tell him what was actually inside. Then, he took a drink and made a face. “That’s nae whisky… and it’s nae water…”
He shook his head, showing just how disgusting he thought the contents of that skin were.
Freya managed a weak grin. “It’s tae keep the water clean.”
“Clean? It’s like a child got into their faither’s whisky supply.”
Another wave of nausea hit, but it was already so much better because of the ginger root alone.
“I’m sure he means fer ye tae drink this… but I’m nae so sure.” Nathan said as he sat back down beside her, holding out the water skin. If she was being perfectly honest, that sounded absolutely terrible. But she accepted it anyway—and was rewarded by Nathan’s body sliding into the bed behind hers.
His warm hand spread over her belly, and he gently pulled her back against him, surrounding her with his warmth. It was almost more soothing than the ginger root was. She sighed deeply, biting off a piece of ginger and chewing it into a pulp slowly as she allowed her eyes to close. For the first time all day, it didn’t feel like she was being hurled around by the sea, but rather it felt as if she were being gently rocked in Nathan’s arms.
Nathan never thought that she would be quite this happy to have her feet on solid ground. If not for himself, then for Freya, who had suffered so much throughout the short journey. Ever since the captain had given her the ginger root, she had begun to feel better, her spirits had lifted and the sickness which had gripped her had slowly subsided, but she had spent so many hours in agony that seeing her so spry now that they were on solid ground was a pleasant surprise. It seemed to him that the moment her feet had touched land, she had swiftly recovered, all her past suffering forgotten.
They immediately headed toward the markets when they disembarked. On the off chance that the crew was questioned by the soldiers who seemed to follow them around everywhere, they didn’t want them to point out where they could be easily located.
Nathan led Freya, following the sounds and the flow of people, knowing they needed more supplies for their journey and to purchase two new horses. He didn’t know if he was home or anywhere near it—the mainland was large, after all. And yet, hestill looked around, trying to place his surroundings, trying to provoke any sort of memory that could be arise.
Since he had somehow found himself in Freya’s village, it was more than likely this was the place from which he had originally departed. The docks, the market—all of it may have very well been familiar to him, but none of it sparked anything. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t recall ever having been there before, and the only way he knew how to get to the market was by observing the locals.
If he were to pass by something or someone, and instantly remember who he was, would he be the same person? The same loop of concerns that played inside Nathan’s head over and over again, but it was different now that he had kissed her. In the short time he had known her, Freya had become everything to him—a savior, a friend, a lass he desired. He was well aware that he had become too attached, too fast, but she was all he knew. In this foreign world, she was his only anchor.
Thus, he didn’t know what he would do if he remembered something that would prevent him from being with her. He didn’t even know Freya’s own feelings on the matter but losing her—losing the only constant in his life—seemed too painful a thought to Nathan.
From the corner of his eye, he could tell Freya was staring at him, though he couldn’t quite decipher her expression without turning to look at her fully.
“If ye keep looking at me like that, I’m going to get very self-conscious,” Nathan said. They had nearly finished collecting their supplies now, everything stored in the large leather bag, and the pair of them were starting to make their way toward the stables.
“I just?—”
“I ken the meaning of yer ‘just’ lass,” Nathan said, unusually terse. He had a very good idea of what it was she was thinking, as he was thinking the same thing. The more he tried to force his memory, the more his frustration got the better of him. “If I were tae remember anything, I swear ye would be the very first person tae ken.”
Freya curled in on herself slightly, as if the severity of his tone had upset her, and he immediately regretted getting short with her.
Nathan stopped walking and sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, lass.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose firmly. “It’s just that none of this feels any more familiar than anywhere else we’ve been. I feel like I’m daeing something wrong. Like there’s this part of me locked away and the key is just out of me reach. I cannae think of what I could be missing… and it’s giving me a pounding headache.”
Freya’s expression softened and she reached forward, fishing into her medicinal bag for something Nathan didn’t recognize before handing it to him. He nodded once, thanking her under his breath and continued forward, staring at the bit of light-colored wood in his hand with some curiosity, wondering how it could possibly help him.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, one that felt more oppressive than any other ever had between them. Nathan had half a mind to apologize again, to promise Freya he would try harder to remember, but there wasn’t much else he could do. His growing frustration at remembering nothing only served to agitate him even further and he feared that the moment he opened his mouth to speak, the wrong thing would come out.
They arrived at the stable and purchased the last two horses available, though Nathan was not particularly impressed by the one allotted to him. It was large enough to carry him, but it had none of the beauty and grace of the one he had purchased from the man he and Freya had met on the island. If only there had been a way to bring it with them, Nathan would never have parted from that steed. As it was, they saddled up the horses with their supplies. But, before they could leave, Freya asked the stablemaster one more thing.
“Dae ye happen tae ken anything about a ship that left fer the Island of Rum about a month ago? And got caught in a storm?”
The man in front of her shook his head, though he did the kindness of taking a few minutes to really consider it at least, unlike the people at the market stalls. They had all been so instantly dismissive of them and the questions they had been asking.
“Are ye sure?” Freya asked again.
“Come on, Freya.” Nathan said, pulling her by the arm softly toward the two waiting horses. If the man was not going to speak, then there was little to do short of bribing him or threatening him, and despite Freya’s success at the card table, Nathan didn’t want to spend their coin that way—and though he could certainly threaten the man, he doubted it was something Freya would appreciate.
When they were close enough to the horses, he lifted her by her waist to help her up on the saddle. Slipping the reigns around her hands, she looked down at him as he gave her an almost nervous smile.
