by Kim Allred
"Aye, we'll take him with us. The sea is a good place for him to be." One of the sailors she knew growled out. A few others nodded in agreement.
"What's your plan, lass?" Jamie had kept silent through her story, and she knew he'd want to hear the rest once they were on their way.
"I know more than most of you that Beckworth can't be trusted. My goal is to get to the earl in Hereford. Wherever Finn and Ethan are, they'll eventually travel there. I'm not sure where you plan to dock in England, but I'm assuming Waverly won't be far from the road to Hereford. That means Beckworth and I have a similar goal. If any part of what he's told me is true, he desperately wants to return to his estate."
"And you'll be traveling with the devil himself." Lando shook his head, clearly not liking the plan. He rubbed his chin and glanced at Jamie and then turned to Sebastian. "Could you not talk her out of it?"
The monk shrugged. "You'll have a few days to make the attempt yourself. I've learned long ago to not waste words in vain."
"So when do we leave?" AJ asked.
"We've already dropped our cargo, and the holds are almost refilled," Jamie responded. "As soon as you say your goodbyes to Sebastian."
She nodded. "So soon?"
"Aye. We let you sleep until we were ready to leave. We need to sail while we still have the darkness and the tide." He stood, and the rest of the men rose. They clasped the monk's hand before leaving the room, their voices hushed before disappearing altogether.
"What about Beckworth?" she asked.
"The worthless baggage is with the rest of the cargo. Nicely stored." Lando beamed. "Nothing to worry about."
AJ didn't like the sound of that. It was what he deserved, but she needed him cooperative. But until they were safely at sea, she couldn't argue the precautions. She didn't want him jumping overboard and finding his own way back to England. She nodded. "Can I have a few minutes with Sebastian?"
After Lando and Jamie left, she surprised Sebastian with a tight hug. "Thank you for being such a good friend."
He chuckled. "You and Maire have been the highlight of my life." He tightened his grip on her arms. "I have sent word through the region to see if anyone has spotted Finn or Ethan. If they show up here, we'll find a way to get them to England as quickly as possible. I've also sent two missives with Jamie. One for Hensley and one for the earl to be sent by messenger as soon as you dock."
"Why?"
"It's best to have more than one plan, don't you think?"
She snorted. "I can't argue with that. Our plans always seem to go awry."
"You must be watchful at all times. Beckworth will have his own agenda."
"Believe me. No one knows that better than me. I'm not the same woman who was here before. I'm better trained, and pretty good at taking care of myself. If he can get me into Waverly, this all might be over by the time Finn and Ethan catch up."
11
Finn and Ethan spent the day using the same pattern. Ethan rode ahead with Finn following at the best pace he could manage. During the morning, there were fewer people on the road than they expected. One cart and one single rider, neither seeming interested in Finn, shared nothing more than a small nod as they passed. By afternoon, a few more people had ventured out, but there wasn't a single trace of soldiers. But even with an open road, the going was slow.
They stretched the breaks to every two hours, but by late afternoon, Finn's pain became intolerable. Ethan found a creek a quarter mile from the road and tied his horse behind a small copse of trees. Finn would have fallen to the ground after dismounting if Ethan hadn't been there to catch him. After guiding Finn to a spot by the water, Ethan cared for the horses.
"I know we haven't been moving fast, but we've put some miles behind us. Town is close." Ethan dropped the bag of food and began collecting sticks.
"Aye. I thought there would be more people on the road." Finn untied the makeshift wrap and felt his side. Tender, and when he raised his shirt, the purple marks of a bruise were forming.
"I was thinking it might be better to get some rest now, then push for town. It will be dark soon, and the road should remain clear of most travelers."
Finn leaned against a stump. "I'm not going to argue." He let Ethan refill his waterskin, and he sucked down half the bag. His portion of lamb was swallowed almost as quickly. "Why are you building a fire?"
Ethan fiddled with one of the soldier's packs and brought over two tin cups, a pot, and a bag. "Coffee."
"I thought we'd left the coffee obsession back in Baywood with Stella and Adam."
"If I could have packed the espresso machine, I would have."
Finn laughed. "Then we'd just have to find electricity."
"Feel free to laugh, but once we catch up with AJ, I won't be alone in my madness for coffee."
They stayed for three hours, each getting their share of sleep. Finn couldn't argue Ethan's decision to brew coffee. The smell alone invigorated him. As they rode out, without explanation, a sudden urgency to get to the monastery hit Finn in the gut. He urged his mount on, but the faster pace increased the pain, and he was forced back to a steady, if slower, pace.
Once they saw the dim lights of town, Finn and Ethan decided to ride together. They'd been lucky to avoid soldiers, but town would be a different story. Finn breathed deeply. The smell of the sea touched something deep in his bones, and a sense of home washed over him, relaxing the unease that had been building.
They huddled together where the road split in two and listened for riders. When nothing but an owl could be heard, Finn grew impatient. His side ached from the long day. Their afternoon rest had helped, but the miles on horseback just couldn't stop the jarring impact to his ribs.
"Change of plan." Finn muttered.
"Oh?"
"We've ridden through most of the night. We're still an hour from town, and it's only a couple of hours before first light. Rather than taking the back road, let's walk the horses through the far edge of town. We'll have to go slow, but if we stay away from the docks, we should avoid most of the patrols."
Ethan took a moment, considering their options. "It would save time. The back road is safer, but it's longer." He patted the horse, his eyes searching the darkness, but what he searched for, Finn had no idea. "All right. Same pattern. We move out separately. This time you go first, set the pace. I'll follow close until I see you dismount. Then I'll wait fifteen minutes to let you get ahead. If you run into trouble, whistle."
"If I have the breath. You remember where we held up Beckworth's coach?"
Ethan snorted. "A memorable moment."
"We'll meet up there." Finn nudged his horse into a trot, keeping alert to everything around them. Darkness gave a false sense of safety, but he speculated there would be a higher concentration of troops at the docks to monitor the ships and their cargo. Though they'd already tasted the wrath of French soldiers, getting by them to board a ship would be more difficult than getting to the monastery. One step at a time. They had to reach the monastery.
As he neared town, he slowed the horse to a walk. He'd lost track of Ethan quickly. When he stopped to listen, he heard nothing but the muffled sound of the sea and the barking of a dog. He stayed on the horse until he got as close as he dared, then he slipped from the saddle.
He rested a few minutes, waiting for the pain to recede, then turned down an old trail that wrapped around several small cottages. Dawn was more than an hour away, but lights flickered in several windows. With luck, if anyone heard the horse, they'd think it someone on an early morning errand or a soldier on patrol.
The walking eased the stitch in his side, and his breathing became easier. But halfway through town, another intense sense of urgency flooded him. He couldn't explain it, but something urged him to move faster, that time was of the essence. At one point, he leaned against the horse and counted to ten like AJ had taught him. Whatever was happening, it had to do with AJ. He felt her slipping away, but he couldn't rush into danger. The incident with the
soldiers had proved that. They had to be careful until they were out of France, then they could play loose with the rules.
What seemed like an hour later, but was only half that, Finn passed the last house. He'd only run into one drunken sailor who'd probably taken a wrong turn from one of the inns. He snored against a storage building but never woke. Since he never heard a whistle, he assumed the sailor hadn't given Ethan any trouble.
When he had walked a good distance from the last house, he mounted and rode for their meeting place.
Ethan arrived a half-hour later.
"What took so long?" Finn asked, the earlier urges to hurry had abated as quickly as they'd come.
"I ran into a bit of a distraction."
"A soldier."
He nodded. "He came out of one of the houses. Scared the wits out of me."
Finn waited. When Ethan said nothing more, he asked, "And?"
Ethan picked at his shirt, and resettled himself in the saddle, a smile brightening his dark features. "He was still tucking his shirt in his pants. Let's just say he'll be sleeping off a sore jaw."
Finn chuckled. "He'll probably think the husband or father came home early."
The men laughed as they moved their mounts faster for their last leg to the monastery.
"We'll need to find a way in," Finn said after a mile of silence.
"And you have a plan?"
"There might be troops at the monastery. We'll need to find someone that can get a message to Sebastian."
Ethan glanced around. "I'd say we have less than an hour before daybreak. If we leave the horses at the outcropping where Thomas held the men the last time we were here, we can have Sebastian send someone to sneak them into town and leave them by one of the inns."
"Once we get past any troops, we can duck through the side court."
Ethan nodded. "The kitchen is our best bet. If it's the same staff, they'll find Sebastian for us."
"Let's hope he's still there."
When they reached the outcropping, they removed their duffels but left the soldier's packs as they found them, minus some coffee and a handful of dried tack. They crept down the road to the monastery as a single unit, stopping at the stone wall to the courtyard.
Finn inched forward and scanned the yard. "I don't see anyone at the main entrance. The army must not consider the monastery to be of importance."
"They would consider the port more important. They probably send a couple men to check the monastery every few days. They certainly aren't waiting for us."
Finn couldn't argue with Ethan's assessment since it matched his own. They tiptoed along the outer wall of the monastery, eyes watchful for any movement, ears primed for sound.
Light blazed from the kitchen window, and Finn smelled the wood fire. The cook would be preparing the ovens for bread. When Ethan met him at the door, they both heaved a breath and nodded. Finn opened the door slowly, his hand on his knife. He inched his way in, Ethan on his heels.
When he'd entered far enough to get a complete view of the kitchen, he stopped. He heard Ethan's intake of breath when he stepped next to him.
Four men sat around the table. Finn knew only one.
Sebastian scratched his balding head, forcing wisps of white hair to flutter. "You couldn't have worse timing."
12
Two cloaked figures wove through the crowd in the smoke-filled room that stank of unwashed men and the stale odor of vomit. The inn, while similar to Guerin's in size and style, carried a shabbier, less friendly feel. The place hadn't changed since the last time Finn had entered the establishment, searching for men to switch sides in their fight against the Duke of Dunsmore. Not willing to take a chance on missing the man he sought tonight, he and Ethan had first stopped at Guerin's, but it had been the waste of time he'd expected.
Guerin imposed a strict policy against fighting in his establishment, so smugglers came to this inn where fights weren't stopped until a clear winner was determined. With the two ships that arrived earlier in the day, the inn was overrun with brash men who flirted with the barmaids and made shady deals under the noses of the French troops who were equally boisterous with drink.
For the last two days, Finn and Ethan had worked out their frustrations of being stranded at the monastery by hauling cargo from its underground stores. The process, though well planned, was laborious, with only a handful of carts loaded each day. Once the carts were loaded, Finn and Ethan traveled with the wagons to a mountainside cave where the cargo was stored for easier distribution. Out of sight from most travelers who had no reason to traverse the thin rocky path, carts could come and go as the cargo was moved out of the cave at random intervals to other cities. Since exports traveled the same path, Finn and Ethan moved the newly arrived crates off the carts before reloading the wagons for the return trip to the monastery. Money exchanged hands along the way, which explained the town's willingness to support the illegal trade route.
When the town heralded news of a newly arrived ship, Finn would don the robes of a monk and ride to town with Luis to investigate. On their first morning at the monastery, Finn argued with Ethan, who wanted to arrange transport on the first ship that docked. Finn finally talked sense into the man. Smugglers were a tricky lot, and most couldn't be trusted past whoever paid them the most coin. If the smuggler thought they could earn extra by handing someone over to the French, they could pocket a good sum of money and evade a more thorough inspection of their ship.
Finn understood Ethan's impatience, but finding the right ship was a dicey gamble. He felt the same restlessness since learning they'd missed AJ by mere hours. The band around Finn's chest released when he heard she was well and sailed with Jamie and Lando. He was beyond furious when Sebastian revealed, somewhat hesitantly, that she took Beckworth with her. Finn had enough sense not to throttle the monk, who didn't have a prayer of talking AJ out of anything. But he would have a few words with Jamie if they ever caught up with him.
A part of him, that piece of his soul, of his heart that beat only for her, that bonded him to her, wished she'd waited for him. He understood the decision she made. She made the correct choice, but it would have been easier to accept if Beckworth weren't part of her plan.
Finn pushed his way deeper into the inn, where they found a sailor wrapped in the arms of a busty prostitute, another pastime not found at Guerin's. Ethan brushed past Finn, probably eager to have this night over, and picked the sailor up by an arm.
"Oi, I'm in the middle of somethin' here." The man staggered as Ethan helped him stand while the scantily dressed woman tried to pull the sailor back down.
Ethan flicked her a coin which she caught midair. "Take him to a room."
The brunette's eyes went wide when she saw the coin. She turned it over several times, studying it with a practiced eye. Satisfied with her inspection, her demeanor changed, and she pushed the sailor away. "Why don't you join me instead?"
Ethan eyed her with appreciation and a pleasing smile before shaking his head and pushing the sailor toward her. "Not tonight. I have business."
The woman pouted, but she understood his meaning. Finn chuckled when she patted Ethan's backside before dragging the sailor away.
"You're getting good at clearing a table." Finn pushed the empty mugs aside and sat with his back to the wall.
Ethan grunted in response, pushing his chair close to Finn so his back was also to the wall. "A few kind words and coin go further than using a stick. Are you sure he'll be here?"
Finn eyed the men at the bar before scanning the room. "Aye. Valentin always shows himself, even if it's only for an hour. His mates will gather information from their own connections, but Valentin didn't get where he is by working on second-hand news. He'll perform his own reconnaissance for the latest on the patrols and blockades."
"Wouldn't it have been easier to get a message to the man?"
"I don't know his crew, and the soldiers have a keen eye on who boards and leaves the ships."
"And thi
s is the man you trust to get us to England?"
A grimace crossed Finn's face, his finger worrying at a grain in the wood. How did one go about explaining Valentin or any smuggler? "Trust is hard-earned amongst most smugglers." With Ethan's dour-faced response, Finn chuckled. "It's more a code they follow. You have to rely on others to keep their end of a deal. If a smuggler earns a reputation for not delivering what's promised, or for too much double-crossing, he'll find himself without cargo, friends, and sometimes, without his life."
"A rough crowd you ran with."
Finn shrugged. "If you trade fair and pay attention, it's a good life for most." He swigged ale from fresh mugs a barmaid had dropped in front of them and gave Ethan his wide-slanted grin. "And it pays good coin."
Ethan shook his head, studying Finn before turning away to scour the room. "And I suppose you practiced some of that craft during your time jumps?"
Finn refused to apologize for his actions while jumping through decades in search of a stone necklace only rumored to exist. "A man has to earn a living."
"I couldn't agree more." The words were deep, gravelly, and carried a thick French accent.
The man appeared wider than he was tall, his massive upper body that of a brawler, the sleeves of his pristine jacket straining over heavily muscled biceps. A scar ran down the left side of his face, from his hairline to just below his jaw. Otherwise, he had a pleasant face, touched with wrinkles across his forehead and at the corners of his eyes. His full head of black hair, streaked with touches of gray, was pulled into a fashionable queue. He shoved a man from the chair of a neighboring table and dragged it to Finn's table. The sailor, half in his cups, struggled to his feet, ready to take the man on until he raised his head and squinted into the stranger's face. Mumbling some form of apology, he nodded to the stranger and moved to find another spot several tables away.
