For Sue Vincent’s weekly Thursday photo prompt.
Richard’s gaze sweeps the horizon. No sail breaks the monotony of blue sea and sky. The morning is calm after the squally winds of the night, a good day for a sea crossing. Yet fear squirms deep in his gut, a great worm stretching. The pools left by the outgoing tide glitter with reflected sky and he dare not look into them. It is her face he is afraid to see, the judgement, the eyes hard as stones. Her face will tell him more surely than any wreckage, any washed up timber and broken spars that there will be no sail on the horizon.
The sea is calm. The air is still, storm forgotten. He watches, waits for the sail to breach the blue like a great white bird making for the shore. He waits until de Cogan comes to find him. He turns at the sound of boots on the slippery rocks and has no need to ask. He sees the quiet commiseration in his captain’s eyes and he knows. The robin-child did not outfly the storm.