by Adair, Mary
"They are using Dawn as bait to get Raven. The sheriff was holding Raven when Dawn was taken from Dunmere. He was accused of stealing a horse. I have no idea if he will be able to break away. I felt it was my duty to stick with Dawn. Now, from what I've overheard from the bastards holding her, the chief is gettin' restless. I fear their plans may change at any moment." "Who is the chief?"
"I can't say. 'E doesn't come to the warehouse. Bein' only myself, I was afraid to leave and follow one of the guards for fear Dawn would be gone when I returned. Even knowing I had to take that risk to come 'ere for help has me afraid that she will be gone when I return."
"Then make haste to get back. Someone will contact you before nightfall. And, Mr. Thorton, be prepared for anything."
"Yes'm, I will be lookin' for the young men you mentioned."
Thorton opened the door and collided with Fredrick. Stepping back quickly, he bobbed and stepped to one side. When Fredrick failed to move, Thorton blustered in impatience. "Move aside, man. I ain't got tha time to play patty cake with the likes o' you." Fredrick stepped casually into the room and Thorton pushed past.
"He's in quite a hurry," Fredrick said to Sara.
"As he should be." As she left the room in a near run, she called over her shoulder, "Please tell Mark in the stables to go fetch Davie and Tom. It's an emergency. He must find my brothers and report to me immediately."
Chapter Twenty-four
Raven walked into the stable where he found the magistrate in deep conversation with the blacksmith. Eyeing Whipple, Raven tossed a gold coin to the smith, who caught it in mid air. "I'm here to collect my horse and I'm in a bit of a hurry."
The hefty man examined the coin, stopping himself just short of clamping down on it with his teeth. "Right away." Pocketing the prize, he hurried off to do Raven's bidding.
The magistrate crossed his arms over his impressive girth. His waddle resembled a plump duck as he shifted his weight to plant his feet firmly in what Raven was sure the man meant to be a show of authority. Unfortunately, for the magistrate, the effect was more comical than authoritative.
"Heard ye were ill. I hope not to hear no untrue rumors 'bout the treatment ye received while in my care."
"Of course not, Whipple. I'm sure, had I collapsed while staying in your residence, you would have been most attentive to my health. As attentive, shall we say, as you were to my lockup?"
The magistrate bristled, but took control of his reaction easy enough. "Aya, 'ere's the smith with yer horse." He put a finger to the tip of his tricorn and nodded briskly. "Good day to ye then. I hope ye find yer way home without difficulty."
"Oh, rest assured, Magistrate. I will find everything I seek without undue difficulty."
"Ur-hum, yes, of course." His features flushed, Whipple cleared his throat and waddled toward the door. "Good day to ye, Smith."
"Good day to ye as well, Magistrate." The smith led Eagle to where Raven waited. "Well, 'ere be your horse, sir. 'E healed quite nicely, 'e did." He patted the horse's neck. "Will there be any thin' else?"
Raven fixed his gaze on the smith. He was pleased to see the effect of his glare reflected in the other's eyes. "Only answers to a few questions." The smith glanced toward the stable doorway. "I want to know the name of, and where to find, the man who accused me of stealing Sir. Richard's horse."
"I will tell ye the same thing I told that young travelin' companion of yours. I don't know 'is name." The smith stiffened his spine, but took another glance toward the doorway.
Raven looked as well. They were alone.
The smith took a step closer as he lowered his voice. '"E's not from 'round 'ere. Right after 'e made his accusations to the Magistrate, 'e saddled up and said 'e was headed for London. Sir Richard came and collected is horse as soon as 'e heard 'bout it. 'E told the Magistrate 'e wanted the man found, but 'e be long gone by now."
"Did you tell my...brother anything else?"
"Just that ye was locked up safe and sound in the Magistrate's own house. Oh, and one other thing. 'E wanted a description of the scoundrel. I told yer brother the bloke was a small man with a ruddy complexion and hair to match."
The events leading up to his being shot came back to devil him. Could the smith be referring to the same highwayman he and Dawn had dubbed Fox? "Where did my brother go?" he demanded. The heavy cloak of premonition closed in tightly about him.
"I 'aven't seen the lad after that. I can tell ye that Grandpa 'as been lookin' everywhere for 'em. 'E seems to 'ave just disappeared. I'm thinking 'e took off in search 'o the one that stole the Lord's mare. That be four days ago. I'd be a mite worried about the boy meself, but it's gettin' late." The smith nodded toward the door. "You'll not be able to find anything in the dark. Would ye like for me to keep your 'orse one more night?"
Raven snatched the lead rope held firmly in the smithy's grip. "I thank you for your information, but I have at least a couple of hours left of daylight and I intend to make full use of them."
With a touch of annoyance sneaking into his tone, the smith answered, "Very well, sir. It will only take me a moment to saddle 'em up for ye." He stubbornly held onto the rope.
It wasn't Raven's intent to insult the smith who had only been courteous since his and Dawn's arrival. With an effort, he softened his tone. "That won't be necessary. Thank you. I can manage. Just show me where to find my tack."
The smith released the guide rope and pointed at a far wall. "It be right over there. Just help yerself. I trust ye can pick yer own out from the others."
Raven nodded his thanks. He scanned the well-stored, well-organized saddle and tack. In no time Eagle was saddled and ready to go. He rubbed the horse's forehead and scratched his ear. "This will be a hard ride, old boy. I know you want to find Dawn as much as I do." The horse whinnied and threw up his head, then settled his nose back into Raven's hand. "Good boy. We're off then." He gave Eagle one last hefty pat to his strong neck and then painfully swung himself into the saddle.
***
Raven pushed Eagle hard. Just before nightfall, he found the first campsite. Of all the campsites he'd passed, he knew this one was intended to be found by him. He ran his fingers along the chipped bark of the old elm where Dawn had been chained. At its base were stones arranged in the manner of the Cherokee. Clearly Dawn wanted him to know that it was their campsite. He studied the arrangement of small stones. At this point, she must not have known where she was being taken. It was also obvious to him that she was unaware she was the bait.
He walked from the tree to where the fire had been built. Several paces from the fire, back toward the tree, rested another small pile of stones. It was clear to Raven this was as close as Dawn was allowed to come to the camp. Anger stirred in his gut. His little warrior had not been allowed close enough to the fire to feel its warmth. He struggled to control his anger.
He studied the campsite further. It had been several days since they had camped here. He was lucky that no one else had used it. Though the signs were cold, they were everywhere. It was meant that he read them. And read them he did. He could see where the horses had been tied, where Dawn had been dragged away from the second small pile of rocks, and where she had clawed the ground trying to return to them.
By the marks in the soil and loosened grasses, she had fought hard in her effort to reach the message she had left for Raven. He squatted down and read the stones. They were taking her to London, to a place near water. He placed his hands on his head and gripped his hair with tightened fists. He squeezed his eyes shut as he cursed, "Damn, damn, damn!"
A lingering mixture of anger and fear burned in the pit of his stomach. He sought to put himself in her place, to read her thoughts. She must have been crouched here trying to stay warm, listening, hoping to catch some clue as to where they were taking her. What she heard was exactly what they wanted her to hear.
They were taking her to the docks, to a warehouse, no doubt. He resumed his study of the stones and then raised his gaze to stud
y the campsite from Dawn's perspective. Before they left this site, she knew she was nothing more to their plan than bait. She no longer wanted him to find her and so was about to scatter the rocks when her captor drug her to her feet and toward the horses.
She wasn't allowed to ride. She was forced to run behind. No doubt it amazed her captors that she was able to keep up. His chest contracted. At some point, even his Little Warrior would have collapsed. Did they drag her along?
Granny's words echoed in his mind. "And ye must hurry. Raven. She would be finding ye, ye know that. And I be just as sure ye know she would pay any price to keep ye safe. "
Raven growled in rage. He threw back his head as all the pain and guilt flowed from his body in an anguished cry that sent the birds in flight and the forest animals fleeing in fear. All the pain he had suppressed these past years surfaced to torment him. His Little Warrior needed him and he had failed her. Men treated her as an animal. He must find her. The evil men who trapped her would pay.
He sat on the spot where Dawn had rested, but he could not feel her warmth. He touched each stone, rubbed it dry between his fingers.
Tonight he would prepare himself. Tonight he would pray. As Dawn had admonished him not so long ago, he would bare his feet and dance. He would center himself—tomorrow he would find the men who dared take Dawn from him.
***
The dark sky gave way to golden streaks of dawn as Raven waded into the small pond near the campsite. Throughout the night, he'd prayed. He no longer doubted what Dawn had always known. He had been such a fool.
He raised his arms high to the sun and spoke his prayer with strength and purpose. He was ready now for whatever followed. His spirit and his body were one. For the first time in his life, he had no doubt, no fear, not even anger.
With calm efficiency he inventoried his gear. The saddle would stay, as well as the saddlebags and most of their contents. He re-dressed his wound before he pulled on his buckskins and tall moccasins. The herb for Lady Montgomery went into a pouch, which he strung about his neck. He slipped a long knife inside his moccasin and whistled for Eagle.
The horse had not wandered far and answered the call, his muscles quivering in anticipation of the ride he knew was to come.
Raven grabbed a handful of mane and swung himself onto Eagle's back. At the answering pain in his side, he pulled the buckskin aside and looked at the bandage. His wound had pulled open and a red stain slowly spread across the white cloth. He pressed his fingers to the bandage to stem the flow.
Bending low, he spoke to Eagle, "Carry me to the outskirts of London, boy, and then I'll leave you to rest and to graze until I return" He positioned himself and then pressed with his knees. Eagle sprang forward and stretched out. They would be outside London by nightfall.
Chapter Twenty-five
Sara smudged soot onto her cheeks. She took one last look into the mirror to assure herself that she looked the part of a street urchin. She left her room and hurried toward the kitchen. When she entered, Fredrick, her brothers and Mark, from the stables, were already assembled and awaiting her arrival. Davie jumped up and ran to her.
With cold fingers, he clasped her hands. His gaze, filled with a frantic mixture of fear and hope, darted back and forth across her features. "You know where she be, don't you? You wouldn't be dressed like ye are if ye didn't know something."
Sara took a deep breath to steady her own nagging fears. "Yes, I do. They have her hidden away in a warehouse on the docks. I want you and Tom to get ready as quick as you can."
"I be goin' as well, Miss Sara," Mark stammered with uncertainty.
"Have you been on the streets before?" she asked.
"Of course," came his indignant answer. "I 'ave been goin' out with Tom and Davie since Miss Dawn came up missin'. We been out every night, we have. I wanted to be the one Lord William sent to look for 'er, but he said I was too young. But I'm not! Tom and Davie and me, we figured we'd hear somethin' if we just went out there and kept our ears open. So that's what we been doing."
Warmed at the depth of their concern, Sara said, "I didn't realize. All right, then, we'll leave by the back gate."
"I will go as well, Sara," Fredrick said stiffly, as he stepped forward.
"No, you mustn't." Sara turned down his offer, but hurried to soften the rejection. "I appreciate you wanting to help, but you must stay here and look after the Ladies."
Frederick's voice took on a softer, almost pleading tone. "But who will look after you and the boys? I can't allow you to go alone. It's much too dangerous."
His words touched Sara. As long as she had known him, he carried his stiff pride as if it were a shield. Now as she gazed into his aging eyes, she saw true concern for their well-being. "We've been out before, as you well know," she reminded him of the scandal she and Dawn had created among the stiff and proper servants.
A small smile touched his lips. She realized, though he had showed no reaction at the time, that he secretly enjoyed all the fuss. The smile soon vanished to be replaced by a look of worry. "But this time you will be walking in on a pit of vipers," he spoke softly, his troubled eyes pleading with her for understanding.
The three boys shuffled nervously as they peered past Sara and Fredrick. Davie began, "Ah, Sara..."
Sara raised a hand to silence her younger brother. "All the same, you must stay here and watch after the Ladies. Besides, who said we were going to walk right in? Do you think I would endanger my brothers? Have some faith in me, Fredrick." She smiled at him. "Look at you. You would stand out as plainly as one of the Ladies on the docks at this hour of the day."
"I agree with Sara."
Sara spun toward Lady Gaylord.
"You must stay and watch after Lady Montgomery. She mustn't know the house is empty or where we have all gone. Do you understand?"
Fredrick looked helplessly at Sara.
Sara wasn't sure she understood Lady Gaylord's intent, but the pit of her stomach knotted into full alert. "What are you saying, Lady Gaylord?"
"I'm going with you." Lady Gaylord squared her shoulders and stood firm. Her short stature and ample girth did nothing to diminish her regal appearance and her determination showed in her posture and on her face
"Oh, no you're not." Sara's surprise caused her to speak without thinking. Though her words gave Lady Gaylord fair cause to discharge her for impertinence, she could not allow the good woman to accompany them to the rough warehouse district. The air in the room was thick with tension. Lady Gaylord could never blend in with what they were about to do. A woman of her station would stand out like a lighthouse beacon. She couldn't chance Lady Gaylord drawing attention to them. There were too many lives at risk here.
In her desperation, she spoke firmly, "Lady Gaylord, please understand, you must stay here where it's safe."
Lady Gaylord drew in her breath to answer, but Sara silenced her. "No," she raised a hand, "Not another word. You must know I will do whatever is necessary to keep you here and out of harm's way. William could not bear it if anything were to happen to you."
Lady Gaylord's lips pinched together in a tight little knot and Sara wondered at her own startling response to her employer's intentions. Lady Gaylord clasped her hands together in front of her and wiggled her plump little body in an impatient gesture. She raised her chin high as if to issue an order.
Fredrick stepped back as Lady Gaylord puffed like a mother pigeon about to do battle. "You dare to order me about in my own home?"
Sara noticed the hardness in Lady Gaylord's voice, but the situation had progressed too far for her to back down. "You presume to put yourself, Dawn, myself and," she pointed to the door, "those brave young men into danger? I won't have it. Do you not remember Captain Brown saying that one of his men was found with his throat cut from ear to ear?"
Lady Gaylord's anger cooled as she considered Sara's words. "Hmm, I see you are set in this, and maybe for good reason," she acknowledged generously. "I'll not trouble you further." Lady Gaylo
rd glided toward the parlor.
The corner of Frederick's mouth twitched. "You mustn't concern yourself with Lady Gaylord at the moment. I will handle things here." He motioned to the door. "You had best be on your way."
She turned to her brothers and Mark. One look at the boys and she knew she was doing the right thing about her ladyship, but her doubts plagued her about placing the boys in danger. Covering her uneasiness, she ordered briskly, "Out with the three of you. Get ready and meet me at the gate in fifteen minutes. If you're not there, I'll leave without you."
When Sara and the boys had gone, Lady Gaylord glanced down at the note held tightly in her hand. She walked swiftly to the hall table and placed the paper back where she had found it. Nodding to herself, she smiled. She knew exactly where that warehouse was located.
***
Sara gripped the rough, damp tiles as she and Tom crouched on the rooftop across from the warehouse. The night air was thick with the combined odors drifting from the Thames and the filth-laden street below. The usual organized bustle of the day slowed to the stumbling, brawling activities of the evening. Drunken sailors clung to damp walls as they shuffled from one alehouse to the other. Prostitutes called out, advertising their trade. The meager light from the street lamps battled against the settling fog and smoke as the lamplighter made his way along the gloomy street.
"Calm down, Sara. Davie will be just fine," Tom whispered and patted his sister on the shoulder.
She lay on her stomach, frozen in place. Fear almost sucked away her voice as she watched Davie in stunned disbelief.
"What is he thinking of?" She shivered when Davie darted across the street, walked up to the door and then called out. A burly, angry looking man came into their view and waved his arms threateningly.
"Please, kind sir, 'ave you a few pence to spare? Me mother's sick and me and me sisters 'ave no food." His small, thin frame and pitiful voice must have convinced the large, brute of a man.
To Sara's surprise the man pulled a small bag from the waist of his britches and fumbled to open it. His grumbling could easily be heard by Sara "You just be sure ye spend this on food, you scrawny little beggar."
