by Amanda Scott
Hugo chuckled. “I’m sure there is much more to this tale, which you can tell me later, but I’d agree the notion to take it was not altogether daft. It should at least prevent his following you until he can find another ship.”
“He may just commandeer one of those in the harbor.”
“Concern yourself with that when it happens,” Hugo recommended. “In the meantime, tell me how we are to load our crate. It’s gey heavy.”
Giff appealed to Maxwell, who assured him that the pulleys and lines at the stern port, used to load cargo from a wharf, could likewise load a crate from a small boat. Informed that the crate was particularly heavy, Maxwell said that if men could row the crate out and help steady it from below as it went up, they could load it.
“My lord Fife particularly requested the stern port,” he said. “We used it to load provisions in the harbor, and its pulley system worked well then.”
It did so again, and in less time than Giff had thought possible, the heavy crate was safely loaded, forty-eight Sinclair oarsmen had boarded with arms and gear, and Hugo was ready to rejoin Rob in the boat to return to the Lestalric shore.
“We’ve hung one of our cobles where their towboat was, and given you sea rations but little other provision for this lot, as we’d expected your merchant ship to be fully stocked,” Hugo told him. “Do you have supplies enough for the journey?”
“In troth, I don’t know,” Giff admitted. “The captain said that Fife’s men had loaded provisions and gear, and since he would require a crew of forty or more, I’m guessing we must have food other than salt beef, and plenty of water. If I’m wrong, we’ll find it all as we do in the Isles, by putting in to shore and hunting for it.”
Taking a sizable package that Rob handed up to him with a smile, Hugo gave it to Giff, saying, “Michael and Rob thought you might like a Norse flag and a Sinclair banner to fly. They’ve also contrived a new name board for your ship, which our lads have hung for you over the one that reads Serpent Royal.”
“I hope they’ve not named it The Devil’s Own or some such thing.”
“Nay, to suit your Norse flag, you are now Ormen Lange, or Long Serpent.”
“That was a good notion, the name board, and I thank them for it, but I wish they’d known to bring me more brogac. I gave Maxwell all I had.”
“One assumes that you believe you can trust the man,” Hugo said.
Giff nodded, smiling grimly. “If I find I can’t, I’ll hang him. But he gave me his word, and I do believe he is a man of honor.”
Hugo shook his hand. “I ken fine that you know what you’re about on the water, Giff, but Scotland’s destiny rides with you now, so take great care. You are sure to encounter storms ahead of one sort or another.”
“Aye, but you know what they call me,” Giff said. With sober intensity, he added, “Find her, Hugo. I must depend on you and the others for that, and, I own, even knowing you as I do, it goes right against every instinct to leave you to do it.”
Hugo promised they would do all they could, and with that Giff had to be satisfied, knowing well that he could delay no longer.
They were soon under way, and he took the first opportunity to talk to Maxwell. “Now that Fife won’t need the aft cabin, I mean to take it for my own use. You’ll keep the lad with you, of course.”
“Thank ye, sir,” Maxwell said. “I’ve sent him below to help the men stowing the gear. Even on a ship this size, there’s little room for a grown man to move about down there without clouting his head on a beam, and most o’ your men ha’ height.”
“Be sure they keep weapons, shields, and any gear they need regularly in their spaces between the benches as they would in a war galley,” Giff said. “You’ll act as my captain, but you’ll consider me ship’s master. I want a course set to take us north, but keep us away from the coast for a time. And if you’ve any notion how we can alter the look of this ship, pray make any suggestion that occurs to you.”
“Ye’re expecting pursuit.”
“Fife will be on our heels as soon as he can be, and he’ll be in fine fury.”
“He’s always said he’d go north, but why should he assume that you will?”
“I cannot tell you the whole, but you ought to know that he seeks something he believes we may have. And he’ll do whatever he must to find it.”
Maxwell gave him a look, and Giff knew he was wondering about the crate in the stern hold. However, the Sinclair men aboard knew it for Sinclair property and would keep watch. And Hugo would have made sure that none were spies.
“Will you tell me where we’re bound, sir?” Maxwell said.
“Sinclair Bay in Caithness,” Giff replied, seeing no reason to say more.
Maxwell nodded and went to the helm to give the proper commands.
They had been at sea for some time without incident when Giff saw young Jake pop up from the stern hatchway, his face nearly white. His sweeping gaze found Giff near the mast and, darting around men and over gear in his way, the lad skidded to a halt in front of him, saying, “I told ye we’d boggarts below!”
Suppressing amusement, Giff said, “I do think you ought to recognize the normal sounds aboard ship by now.”
“I do,” Jake said indignantly. “I been on ships now two years, since me mam died. I ken fine that the wind be still a-blowin’ and a-cryin’, for I can hear it, but if it ha’ found a way to thump a portion o’ the underdeck, as well, I dinna ken how.”
“Mayhap you missed a rat or two,” Giff suggested.
“Nay, then,” Jake said, eyes wide. “It’d be a fearsome big rat!”
“Where, exactly, did you hear this thumping?”
“Astern, it be,” Jake said, nodding. “I’m thinking that boggart’s in the wee hold under ’is lordship’s cabin, ’cause ye canna reach into it from the underdeck. But me da’ says I’m no’ t’ go in that cabin anymore. Nor I dinna want to, any road.”
“Show me,” Giff said. He recalled the trapdoor Maxwell had pointed out by the washstand in the aft cabin. Doubtless, Fife had wanted his personal provisions close at hand. A jug of whiskey to replace his brogac, or a barrel of wine would be a nice find. One never knew when such a thing might prove useful.
Sidony was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. She had come wide awake this time, and although great commotion had wakened her, she had recognized none of a number of loud male voices. She had easily recognized the motion as that of a galley or ship, but believing that de Gredin had put her aboard Fife’s boat, she had feared drawing attention to herself.
For some time now, though, nature’s ways had been making her steadily miserable. She still felt sick from what-ever de Gredin poured down her throat, but her more urgent concern was an increasingly desperate need to relieve herself.
She tried to call out, but her throat was too dry. So she pounded the side of her prison with her fists, now bound in front of her. Nothing happened for some time. Then heavy footsteps overhead startled her into immobility. Next came the metallic sound of a heavy latch or bolt being moved. The lid opened up, and dim gray light outlined a dark figure bending to hold it.
“What the devil are you doing in there?”
The anger in that welcome, familiar voice shook her, but her need filled her thoughts to the exclusion of all else. She said, “Pray, scold me later if you must, but get me out of here! I . . . I need a pail or something of its ilk, and quickly!”
With relief, she heard him snap, “Jake, fetch a pail! Hurry, but do not say a word to anyone about what we’ve found!”
Then strong, warm hands caught her under her arms and hauled her out, and she saw to her astonishment as he set her on a sort of shelf bed and began to untie her hands and feet, that she hadn’t still been in a box at all. A portion of the floor in the tiny room had folded back from the boxlike space underneath.
Giff sat her up and gripped her arms. “How the devil did you get in there?”
“Please, sir, I’m very glad to see you, but
if that pail doesn’t come . . .”
He strode to the door, saying, “Thanks, Jake, shut this door, and mind, not a word.” Then he came back, the blessed pail in hand, as the light dimmed even more.
“Sakes,” she said, nearly in tears from the pain and frustration of trying to stand up. “I don’t think I can.”
His voice was gentle, almost tender, as he said quietly, “Let me help you.”
She had no choice, because her hands ached from pounding, and pins and needles shot through her feet when she tried to make them support her.
The procedure that followed was embarrassing and awkward, but all that mattered was finding relief. So she gritted her teeth, let him help, and the relief when it came brought the tears she had suppressed earlier.
Silently, he helped rearrange her clothing. As he did, she realized that the pale light entering the chamber came from a round hole a foot or so wide over a narrow table in a nook, with a hinged shutter latched back on the wall beside it.
He helped her back to the shelf bed, then bent to rub her right ankle. His hands were warm, but his look was stern. “Hugo and Rob think Fife has you.”
“He nearly did, I think.” Recalling the open hole in the wall and noting another, shuttered one over the washstand against the opposite wall, she said, “May we speak frankly here, or could someone overhear us?”
He followed her gaze and said, “Not through those portholes they won’t, for they overlook naught but water. I expect someone could lie flat and hang over the top of the cabin, but not without others seeing him. So tell me how you got here.”
She told him what she knew, and was surprised that he already knew that de Gredin had captured her. “But he told his men to tell Fife,” she said. “He said the earl would question me. As to how I got here,” she added, “I haven’t a notion. He forced me to drink some horrid stuff that put me to sleep, and when I woke I was in a stable at Leith Harbor, I think. When he gave me more of the stuff, I was sure he meant to put me on Fife’s ship. I don’t know how I came to be on yours.”
“This is Fife’s ship,” he said, astonishing her but sounding angry again.
“Then how did you learn that I was here?” she asked.
Giff grimaced, thinking how easily she could have ended up in Fife’s hands had he not asked Maxwell about finding another ship or had failed to seize opportunity when it beckoned. That her folly and the folly of those who too often ignored her and thus let her do as she pleased had put her in such a dangerous position infuriated him, but knowing that she had been under the floor while he’d been drinking with Maxwell made him shiver. What if she had suffocated or de Gredin’s foul potion had poisoned her?
Were she not looking so fragile, so earnest, and so bewildered now, he would have liked to shake her, hug her, or put her right over his knee. Clearly, he would have to make it clear to her that she could not wrap him around her thumb so easily.
These thoughts all flitted through his head in the instant before he said grimly, “The plain fact is, I did not know you were aboard this ship and might as easily have taken another one instead. Had I done that, you’d be with Fife right now instead of having to deal with me. Have you any idea what he wanted with you?”
Her eyes widened at his tone, but she said, “De Gredin sent him a message to say he could now make Fife’s enemies tell him all he wants to know. If he meant you and the others, he must have thought you’d tell them where the treasure is.”
The dim light made her pupils look enormous. She had lost any headdress she had worn, she had a bruise on her jaw, and her hair was in a tangle. But just being near her stirred his body. That she could so easily affect him under such conditions made him angrier with her and more determined to resist her charms, if only to make clear to her how dim-witted she had been to thrust herself into such danger.
“You were a fool to ride so far from town,” he said roughly, “and a greater one to ride on alone, leaving Ealga Clendenen alone, as well.”
“But I didn’t! I had two men with me, and she kept four with her.”
“Two men! How many did de Gredin have?”
She looked then as if her own temper were stirring, but her voice was as calm as usual when she said, “I didn’t count them. He sent two to report to Fife, kept four with him, and sent the others back to supervise the men with the countess’s carts.”
“And what do you suppose happened to your two men?”
Sidony felt a chill, and her voice sounded small as she said, “I . . . I don’t know. They had no chance to fight, for we were greatly outnumbered. They went back to Isabella’s cavalcade with de Gredin’s men. Surely, those men would not have harmed them, not with Hugo’s men there, too.”
His expression had softened, but it hardened again as she said the last bit, and when she paused, he stood over her and began grimly to shred her character in exactly the way she was sure Hugo would have shredded it, had Hugo been there.
She was only sorry that Giff stopped rubbing her ankles. Feeling had returned to both of them, but his rubbing felt good, and she had not wanted him to stop.
Then, with rising irritation, she realized he was just like Hugo and her sisters, thinking he could scold whenever she did something of which he disapproved.
When she had heard enough of it, she interrupted the flow without hesitation to say, “Did I understand you to say that you stole this ship?”
“Aye, and a good thing for you that I did,” he snapped and went on scolding.
But she could not allow it to continue, because she wanted to know something more. So, interrupting him again, she said, “What are you going to do with me?”
“I ken fine what I ought to do to you,” he growled. “But I’ll—”
When he broke off, looking grimmer than ever, and frustrated, she said, “You cannot take me back, because Fife must be looking for you by now. So how long will it take us to get to wherever you are going?”
He said curtly, “About eight hours, I should think.”
“Sakes, I had no notion we’d been under way so long! Where are we?”
“Somewhere near the mouth of the firth west of the Isle of May, I suspect.”
“Then you must be daft, sir, unless you mean to put me ashore on the Fife coast, and I cannot think you would deposit me in the midst of the earl’s own shire.”
“I was thinking of St. Andrews. There is a good bay there, and—”
“But St. Andrews is still in Fife,” she protested.
“May heaven protect me from educated women,” he growled. “Even so, it is also the home of the Bishop of St. Andrews. He can see that you have all the protection you need to get back to Edinburgh safely. In any event, you cannot go with me. Recall that Lestalric said you’d have to marry me first.”
“I don’t think that can be true,” she said.
“Sakes, lass, you’re aboard a ship with fifty lusty men. Have you any notion what life can be like aboard such a vessel?”
She shrugged. “It cannot be much different from life aboard any other galley. I have traveled before, sir.”
“Aye, sure, to the Isle of Mull to visit your sister.”
“And to the Isle of Eigg to see Donald inaugurated as second Lord of the Isles,” she said with dignity. “Other places, as well.”
“How long have you stayed on any boat during any journey?”
“That is of no consequence,” she said.
“I’ll wager you’ve never been aboard even one overnight.”
“Isobel was,” she said, then realized that fact would not help her.
He said, “Isobel married Michael, though, did she not?”
Falling back to the one factor she knew must weigh with him, she said, “But you don’t want to marry any more than I do.”
“’Tis exactly why I am taking you to St. Andrews.”
Glowering, she said, “I’ve had naught to eat since mid-yesterday, so if you have finished scolding, do you suppose we might find something to e
at?”
He nodded, clearly thinking he had won, and said, “I’ll find you something, never fear, but you stay here. I won’t have you wandering about in front of all those men. You should be glad I’m turning you over to the bishop,” he added, “if only because he’ll be able to find you other clothes to wear. You’d have grown sick of this riding dress of yours by the time we reached Girnigoe, I can tell you.”
Having made all speed to the Harbor of Leith, Fife stood on the shingle and stared at the space where the Serpent Royal had been. His anger had burned from the moment he’d wakened to the dreadful news of its disappearance, but the fury he felt now rendered him speechless.
Beside him, de Gredin stood quietly.
Regarding him with distaste, Fife glanced back to be sure his usual escort was not near enough to overhear, then said, “I wish I could be sure of you. But after your betrayal last year at Hawthornden and your subsequent flight with Orkney . . .”
When he paused, de Gredin said, “I was indeed guilty of a gross act of insubordination when you would have killed Lestalric, my lord. But as I explained before you generously allowed my return to your service, I acted so because you had allowed personal animosity to cloud your customary good sense.”
Fife grunted. He disagreed, but this was no time to gnaw that bone again. “And your reason for running away to the north with Henry Sinclair?”
“Doubtless a mistake, but if you will forgive my saying so, I feared you meant to see me dead for my insubordination and believed I’d stay healthier at Girnigoe. I’d hoped, too, to find an opportunity to explore the Isles of Orkney.”
“Where you say you found nothing.”
“As I said, I saw only the patch where Henry means to build his castle. But Henry and Lestalric are just two of several who must know where the treasure lies.”
“Exactly,” Fife said.
“You are still thinking you ought to have killed Lestalric, but not only would you have aroused the ire of the King, thus endangering his usual compliance to your will, but you would also have angered Lestalric’s friends. The Sinclairs and Douglases are two of the most powerful families in Scotland, my lord.”
