“Beggin’, pardon, Cap’n, but it’s about time someone did for Old Nick.”
“That it is, lad,” Robbie said. “Anyone else?”
No one stepped forward, so with everyone where they needed to be, we cast off from the Heart and set sail for Auvienne.
Offering to put wind in the Lady Emma’s sails would have been a step too far, so I went and sat on the forward hatch and concentrated on not being seasick while searching for any sign of magic. Corwen came and sat with me. Jim leaned against the rail, staring out across the ocean.
“You think there might be a problem?” Corwen asked.
“I don’t know what’s in Walsingham’s book, or how well Old Nick can translate the code. At the very least he might have a warning system set up.”
“Will you be able to dismantle it if he has?”
“It depends what it is. There’s something in Aunt Rosie’s notebook about neutralizing a spell—in effect, scrubbing it clean and washing it away.”
“You know how to do it?”
“In theory.”
Theory was put to the test soon enough. At the first sight of Auvienne on the far horizon, I felt a tremor. I grabbed Corwen’s wrist and squeezed, not having any breath to explain what was happening.
He put his warm hand over my cold one, effectively lending me strength for what I had to do.
I knew of only one method to wash it away. It took precious minutes for me to manipulate the cloud layer and call a downpour as dense as any tropical storm. A satisfying band of rain stretched across our horizon. As the heavens opened, I felt the effects of Old Nick’s spell dissipating. I could only hope I’d caught it in time.
Auvienne was a small island, richly wooded on steep slopes leading down to coves with golden beaches and sheltered bays. Ravenscraig, on the southern tip of the island, had been established by buccaneers almost two hundred years ago. They’d taken advantage of its natural deep-water harbor overlooked by a flat-topped hill and had built there. Those first wooden shanties had gradually been replaced, and now there was a long wooden quay and a series of buildings tucked into the foot of the hill, net sheds, fishermen’s dwellings, and warehouses.
Above it, the town was fortified. A single street, known as the Stair, zigzagged steeply up to an arched stone gate. The town itself had a stout wooden palisade to the landward side. A promontory outside the walls contained gun emplacements, three batteries of carronade, a mixture of twenty-four and thirty-two pounders. I knew all this from my last visit. Nick might have changed things, but I doubted he’d removed any of the fortifications. He had a reputation for never tapping a small nail with anything less than a sledgehammer.
“Time to go below,” I said to Corwen. “We’ll have to wait it out until dusk and then make a move.”
Our clothes had begun to dry on us and had started to rub in all the wrong places. In the hold, without a fresh breeze, my stomach began to roil.
Jim joined us. “Robbie’s going to talk to a few old friends. Or maybe friends is not the right term, but they’ve certainly no love for Old Nick.”
We waited in the depths of the hold as the Lady Emma docked, not a moment too soon as far as my gut was concerned. The creak of her timbers, the calls of the sailing master and the responses of the sailors gave way to the sounds of the dockside and the screeches of gulls in search of fish heads. We settled down to wait three hours until darkness allowed us to climb the Stair into town.
The sound of shouts on the dockside and rough voices overhead broke our calm.
Lazy Billy ducked down the aft companionway. “Old Nick’s men are searching all newly arrived vessels,” he said, and ran back up to the deck.
Our sailors were hiding in plain sight as part of the crew, but Jim and I were easily recognizable and Corwen’s silver hair was distinctive enough that he would certainly be recognized on second viewing.
Corwen couldn’t hold an illusion for long, especially for three people.
“Get up on deck with the sailors, Corwen,” I said. “You can use illusion to blend in.”
“Not without you,” he said.
“I’ve got Ross,” Jim said. “I can make us both invisible if we’re close enough.”
I could make us invisible as well, but it always drained me. I needed my wits about me, so I’d have to trust Jim on this.
“Mind how close, close is, pirate.” Corwen turned and raced up the companionway after Billy, already looking like a dark-haired Spaniard in sailor’s slops.
“I’ve been looking for an excuse to do this,” Jim said and pulled me against the bulkhead, so close to him that I felt the outline of his body, leaving me in no doubt as to what he was thinking.
“If Corwen doesn’t call you out for taking liberties with his wife, I might do it myself,” I said.
He chuckled softly. “Is it too much like old times?”
“Once, Jim. I came to your bed once, and that was before I knew Corwen.”
“Ah, but I’ve kept it in my memory, and my heart, for a long time.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. If I’d known it meant so much . . . ”
“Hush.” He put a finger to my lips.
“Let me apologize.”
“I mean hush, the search party’s coming.”
I pressed myself close to Jim and tried to make no sound. I felt his invisibility envelop us and I concentrated on barely breathing as half a dozen men descended into the hold, three down the forward companionway, and three down the aft.
The Lady Emma’s main hold was copious, but apart from provisions, which showed she’d been about to begin a voyage, there was no sign of stolen goods. This was a pirate vessel ready for a cruise.
I heard the men searching: tapping full water barrels, punching sacks of flour, and taking the lid off barrels of salt beef. I daren’t turn and look. Somehow, I felt as though they wouldn’t see me if I kept my eyes shut. Ridiculous, I know. I buried my face in Jim’s shoulder. Like me, he was barely breathing.
“You’re fully provisioned,” a voice said. “Didn’t you leave port three days ago? What are you doing back again?”
Robbie responded. “Damned American Navy vessel out there looking for something. I didn’t intend to be what they found. Those things usually hunt in pairs.”
The questioner gave a noncommittal grunt. “No one else spotted anything.”
“It was only this morning. How many vessels have you had come into port today?”
Another noncommittal grunt.
“Be sure and tell Cap’n Thompson. He’ll want to know.”
We heard feet retreating up the companionway, but we didn’t move until Corwen rejoined us.
“They’ve gone.”
Jim released his hold on the invisibility spell before he released his hold on me, leaving Corwen in no doubt as to how close we’d been. I saw the smirk on Jim’s face.
Corwen sighed. “Now’s not the time, Mayo. Stop playing games.”
Jim gave a deep throaty chuckle.
“Shall I call him out, Ross, or would you rather do it yourself?” Corwen asked. “Pistols or rapiers?”
“I’ll think about it.” I gave Jim a little push and took the hand Corwen offered.
* * *
Robbie and ten of his crew went ahead of us into the town. Jim, Corwen, and I waited and left the Lady Emma an hour after full dark, hooded and cloaked, walking with half a dozen of Robbie’s sailors who appeared intent on finding the nearest tavern. Billy, Windward, and the Greek had sauntered up to the town an hour before us, acting as if they owned the place. Their destination, like ours, was the Golden Compass, once Jim’s home on land. It was the largest of Ravenscraig’s many whorehouses and taverns. An unambitious man could have lived well on the profits alone, but Jim had always had ambitions, and so, obviously, did Nicholas Thompson.
&
nbsp; Our plan was simple—kill Thompson and let Jim take back Ravenscraig so that we could grab the book and sail back to England.
I was sure Thompson would have more magical wards in place, so we needed caution in our approach.
The Stair was steep and narrow with not a step in it. It was too steep for regular horse-drawn vehicles, though pack mules could make the journey.
A series of staged platforms up the rocky cliff face with wooden cranes offered an alternative way of sending cargoes up and provisions down, using counterweights and a clever system of pulleys. A series of ladders linked the platforms, and I tilted my head back to get a better look, wondering if the ladders might be a potential exit if things went wrong during the takeover.
“That was my idea,” Jim said. “The pulleys, I mean. Can you believe they used to bring goods up with slaves?”
I could believe it, but I knew Jim had freed the slaves on Ravenscraig many years ago and, in turn, had acquired loyal free citizens.
As we approached the top of the Stair, the gate, set into a stone archway between two buildings, stood open.
“Wait.” I put out a hand to stop Corwen and Jim. “Is there a way around it?”
“What’s wrong?” Corwen asked as the rest of our company kept on walking.
“There’s some kind of barrier in place.”
“What does it do?”
“I don’t know whether it’s a warning or some kind of active trap.”
“Billy, Windward, and the Greek must have gone through,” Jim said.
“Or else they’re lying dead somewhere.”
“We didn’t hear any kind of commotion.”
The first of our party reached the gate and set off a clanging alarum.
Two soldiers emerged from the door on each side of the gate.
“Weapons, lads,” the officer said. “Collect them on the way back down.”
We hurried to catch up, and divested ourselves of cutlasses, pistols, and knives.
“You can keep one eating knife each,” the officer said. “No blade longer than six inches.”
The officer handed our eating knives back to us after we’d passed through the barrier.
“Oh, great,” Jim muttered. “I’m going to start a revolution with a single item of cutlery.”
“I suppose we have to assume most of the people who don’t live here have only one knife, too,” I said.
“While Old Nick’s guard will have swords, pistols, and probably muskets or rifles, too,” Jim said.
“So let’s go shopping for more weapons,” Corwen said. “Where’s the armory?”
We caught up to the sailors from the Lady Emma. “Before you go on your way, lads,” Jim said, “tell us what’s changed since I’ve been gone. Where do the off-duty guards sleep?”
“The whorehouse that used to be the Blue Ball is now exclusively Captain Faraday’s, and the Pineapple is where Captain Buller’s men are billeted. The rest are in a new barracks building behind the Compass.”
Damn. We hadn’t counted on the off-duty guards being so close to the Golden Compass. We really didn’t want to kick over a hornets’ nest.
“What about the girls who were at the Blue Ball?” Jim asked.
“Oh, they’re still there, providing the usual services, only now, I hear, they’re not being paid for it.”
We let Robbie’s lads go on into the town. Their job was to shout loudly for Jim if he managed to oust Old Nick.
“The Blue Ball it is, then,” Jim said. “See if we can attract the attention of Kitty Little.”
“Who?” I asked.
“She was the Blue Ball’s madam. I doubt she’ll like her girls not getting paid for services rendered.”
“How are we going to get in?”
“We’re not. There’s a privy behind the building. We’ll wait for one of the girls to come out.”
“Oh, great,” Corwen said. “I’ve always wanted to hide in a privy.”
As it turned out, it was a large communal privy with a long board with four bum-holes cut in it. There was a lantern hanging on a hook, but it burned low and gave off a flickering light. The air came in and went out again through two high holes in the wall set opposite each other, but despite the ventilation and the deep pit beneath the seats, it was still noisome.
We heard footsteps outside, too heavy to be one of the girls. All three of us pulled our knives. A six-inch blade wasn’t much, but you could do a lot of damage if you knew where to stick it.
Corwen and Jim each took up their stations, one on either side of the door, while I sat on the far seat. The rough etiquette for using communal privies was that you didn’t look too closely at your neighbors while doing whatever you’d come to do. By sitting there quietly I was next to invisible. As the man pulled open the door and stepped through, he already had one hand on the fall-front of his breeches. Jim attacked from behind, wrenching his head around. A satisfying but sickening crunch told us the rest.
I created a small witchlight, brighter than the lantern, and we checked him for weapons. He yielded a pistol, powder and balls, a bayonet for a musket, and a cutlass.
“Not bad for one man,” Jim said.
“Did you know him?” I asked.
“No. Might have been from Old Nick’s crew. Let’s get him down the hole.”
Each of the four seats was hinged separately. I lifted the end two and Jim and Corwen tipped the man headfirst into the pit. He landed with a squelchy splat and a groan which, since he was definitely dead, must have been escaping air. He also disturbed the contents of the pit which didn’t improve the atmosphere at all.
The next person we heard on the path outside came in calling, “Andrew, are you still in there? It’s your deal.”
This time I stood to one side of the door while Corwen gave a theatrical groan and hunched over his belly, head down in the darkness.
“What’s the matter, man, are you ill?”
As the second man stepped through the door, Jim dispatched him with the bayonet from behind. He yielded another pistol, ammunition, a dagger, and a sword, before joining his friend in the pit.
“Let’s go before someone else comes out to investigate,” I said. “We’ve got weapons now.”
Before we could let ourselves out, lighter footsteps on the path announced the arrival of one of the ladies. I blew out the lantern and we all pressed ourselves to the wall. The woman entered, lifting her skirts. She barely squealed when Corwen grabbed her from behind with one hand over her mouth and nose.
“We mean you no harm. I’ll let you go if you promise not to make a sound. Understood?”
She nodded against his hand, so he released her. I brightened the lantern with a witchlight, making it look like a flame.
“You!” She recognized Jim immediately.
“Are you one of Kitty Little’s girls?”
“I used to be. Kitty ain’t here no more. Ain’t no one lookin’ out for us except ourselves.”
“Where’s Kitty?”
“He took her up to the Compass. Heard she hadn’t pleased him, so . . . you know.”
Yes, we knew. I hoped it had been quick for Kitty Little.
“What’s your name?” Jim asked.
“Bella.”
“Do I take it you’d prefer to get rid of the guards and Captain Faraday, so you can get back to business as it used to be?”
“I would. We all would. Where is he?”
“Who?”
“Captain Faraday, he came to look for Andrew Bonnett.”
“That was Faraday?” Jim shrugged. “He won’t be bothering you again.”
“Good. He was a right bastard.”
“Bella, you would be doing us a service if you went back inside and said Captain Faraday and Mr. Bonnett have gone down the road on business. Make up somethin
g that sounds plausible. Say he ordered strong drink all round and get all those guards as drunk as skunks. Lay ’em out with drink until they’re useless.”
“Are you going up to the Compass?”
“We might be.”
“Are you going to do for that bastard Old Nick?”
“Do you expect us to tell you our plans?”
“I want to know if we’re safe to get our own back on Faraday’s men.”
“Get them insensible on strong spirits. By morning, you should know what’s safe and what’s not.”
“Would it be helpful if I got a message to Lucy at the Pineapple? There’s a whole troop billeted there.”
“If you can do it safely.”
“You say Faraday and Bonnett aren’t coming back?”
Jim jerked his head toward the privy pit.
She grinned. “Best place for ’em. I’ll get a message to the Pineapple, Cap’n. If Old Nick shouts for reinforcements, they won’t be coming from down here.”
Jim kissed her cheek. “Bella, you deserve a place of your own.”
“Don’t forget that when you’re back in charge.”
“I won’t.”
Armed with two pistols, a sword, a good knife, and a bayonet, we made our way up to the Golden Compass.
Lazy Billy was leaning against the wall beside the door with a tankard of ale, looking as relaxed as you please. He sauntered over the road to meet us.
“We had all our weapons taken at the gate,” he said.
“As did we, but we managed to rearm ourselves,” I said.
“So did we.” He drew aside his coat to reveal a cudgel swinging from his belt on a piece of twine.
“Well done, Billy. What’s happening in there?”
“The word is that Old Nick is at home, but he’s got six guards in the corridor outside his rooms.”
“Good job there’s a back way,” Jim said. “We’ll go in from the kitchen. Billy, when you hear a commotion, come running up like concerned citizens.”
I added. “But don’t get yourselves shot.”
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