TWENTY-ONE
Kate was wakened by the sound of someone knocking on Amelia’s door. She peered out from beneath the blanket to see that the room was still dark. The sun had not yet risen. She could hear Amelia leaving her bedchamber and going down the stairs to answer it.
Kate pulled the pillow over her head as the clock chimed five times. Far too early to be wakened on a cold morning.
This week alone three people had arrived in the middle of the night to alert Amelia to the latest disaster. A warehouse had gone up in flames, a building in the slums had collapsed, and a wyvern-drawn carriage had fallen out of the sky and landed on an orphanage.
Whatever the news, Amelia would swiftly dress in the clothes she had laid out before going to bed and rush off to visit the scene, leaving her guests to try to go back to sleep.
Kate was burrowing down into the blankets when she heard Amelia call.
“Kate! Come quickly!”
Kate could tell by the urgent tone that something was wrong and she was immediately awake and alert, her first thought that someone had discovered Sophia.
Kate wrapped a shawl over her nightdress and emerged from her room to find Sophia peering into the dark hallway. She had hold of Bandit, who was whining to be let out.
“Stay in your room,” Kate whispered. “Shut the door and keep Bandit quiet!”
Sophia closed her door and Bandit’s whining ceased.
Kate hurried down the stairs and found Amelia waiting for her at the foot. She was wearing a man’s flannel dressing gown with a shawl around her shoulders and a mob cap covering her hair.
“Mr. Sloan is here,” she told Kate. “He asked to see you.”
“Mr. Sloan!” Kate repeated, startled. “What is he doing here at this ungodly hour?”
“I have no idea. He said only that he needed to speak to you on a matter of the utmost urgency. I invited him in for a cup of tea, but he said he didn’t have time.”
Amelia ushered Kate into the front entry hall where Mr. Sloan stood waiting near the door. He held his hat in his hand, as though prepared to immediately dash out. He looked extremely grave.
“Captain Kate, I am sorry to have to wake you,” he said. “I fear I have bad news.”
“What has happened, Mr. Sloan?” Kate asked, exchanging worried glances with Amelia.
“Sir Henry has met with an accident,” Mr. Sloan replied. “His Lordship apprised me of your intention and that of your dragon to fly him to the palace in order to try to assist the king. I regret to say that this plan must now be abandoned. I bid you good day, ladies.”
Mr. Sloan put on his hat and started out the door.
“Wait, Mr. Sloan, please!” Kate cried, seizing hold of his coat sleeve. “We can’t call off the plan! Sir Henry promised to help Thomas! I must talk to him. I can be dressed in five minutes!”
“I fear that will be quite impossible, Captain,” said Mr. Sloan gravely, pulling away from her. “Sir Henry is seeing no one.”
He walked out and shut the door behind him. Kate grabbed a coat, intending to pursue him. Amelia stopped her.
“Leave him be, Kate. Did you see his face? I have written that a man was ‘pale beneath his tan,’ but until now I have never actually seen such a thing. Mr. Sloan looked worse than the time I saw him in hospital after he had been shot.”
“What do you think is wrong?” Kate asked.
Amelia shook her head. “Sir Henry moves in dangerous circles. I fear something terrible has happened to him.”
Sophia crept down the stairs wearing one of Amelia’s flannel dressing gowns. Her hair hung in a long braid over her shoulder.
“I heard the door slam,” she said. “Is everything all right?”
“No, it isn’t,” said Kate dispiritedly.
Bandit dashed to the front door and pawed it, needing to go out. Kate held the door open while he took care of business. Bandit dashed back into the house and began to bark, letting them know it was time for his breakfast.
Kate shut the door. “Mr. Sloan came to say we must abandon our plan to smuggle Sir Henry onto the palace grounds. He has met with some sort of accident.”
“I hope Sir Henry is all right,” Sophia said, concerned. “Did he say what had happened?”
“Mr. Sloan rushed off without telling us anything except that we must give up our plan to help Pip and Thomas,” said Kate, frustrated. “It was a good plan.”
“He never did tell us what his plan was,” Sophia pointed out.
“He did, just not in so many words,” said Kate. “He was going to kill Smythe.”
Sophia’s eyes widened in shock.
“We should discuss this over a cup of tea,” said Amelia. “I will light the fire. Kate, you put on the kettle. Sophia, for mercy’s sake, feed that dog so he will stop barking.”
A short time later, they sat around the kitchen table, drinking tea and discussing the morning’s events. Bandit lay at Sophia’s feet, gnawing on a beef bone.
“You don’t know Sir Henry intended to kill that man, Kate,” Amelia stated, adding more hot water to the teapot.
“So maybe he wasn’t,” Kate said. “We know Sir Henry told Thomas in code to spy on King Ullr. Perhaps he was going to talk to Thomas, see what he had learned.”
“Or perhaps he had found some way to free Phillip from prison,” said Sophia.
Amelia briskly rose to her feet. “It’s no good wasting time speculating. I must write a Captain Kate story to let His Majesty know we have been forced to call off the plan.”
“Please wait a day or two, Miss Amelia,” Kate begged. “We may yet hear from Sir Henry. I don’t want Thomas to think we failed him.”
Amelia regarded her with sympathetic understanding. “I know how you feel, my dear, but Thomas might put himself in jeopardy for nothing. It is only fair that we let him know.”
Kate sighed, frustrated and feeling helpless. “You didn’t see Thomas in the procession, Miss Amelia. He was surrounded by people cheering him and shouting his name, and he was alone. So alone.”
Kate had to stop talking for a moment to clear her throat. “When I handed him the violets, I gave him more than flowers. I gave him hope. I told him that he wasn’t alone. That he had friends who are working to help him and Pip. Now we must snatch hope away.”
The three sat in despondent silence. The only sound was Bandit gnawing at the bone.
“I won’t let that happen,” Kate said determinedly. “We will form our own plan to help Thomas and free Pip. We don’t know what Sir Henry meant to do, but that doesn’t matter. We can do this ourselves.”
“Oh, Kate, that’s a splendid idea!” Sophia said.
“Dalgren can fly us over the wall,” said Kate. “Sir Henry told me to observe the movement of the patrol boats. I know their schedule and the route they take. Dalgren can easily evade them.”
“And once we are inside the palace grounds, we know how to sneak into the palace through the concealed door. We know where to find the secret passages,” said Sophia.
“Ladies!” Amelia rapped sharply on the table with her teaspoon. “I must ask you both to be reasonable. Consider what you are proposing! Think of the difficulty and danger! Once you are on the palace grounds, do you know your way around? Do you even know where Offdom Tower is located?”
“It’s a bloody great tower. How hard can it be to find,” Kate said. She sighed again. “I know you are right, Miss Amelia, but please wait another day before you tell Thomas.”
“Yes, Miss Amelia, please,” Sophia added her entreaty.
“Very well,” said Amelia. “I will wait. Meanwhile, I will go to the office of the Gazette, see if I can learn what happened to Sir Henry.”
“Kate and I will do the washing up,” Sophia offered.
After Amelia had departed, Sophia began gathering up the tea cups. Kate dumped the remnants of the tea in the slop bucket.
“I suppose Miss Amelia is right,” said Sophia. “We are being foolish to imagine we could sneak
into the palace. We must hope to hear from Sir Henry.”
“I don’t think there is much chance of that,” said Kate.
Sophia smiled, their thoughts in accord. “So we form our own plan?”
“We form a plan,” said Kate, resolute.
* * *
Once they reached the Terrapin, Alan led a group of sailors with a litter to the cab. Under Perry’s supervision, they conveyed Henry on board the Terrapin and carried him to the sick bay. The lieutenant on duty was startled to see a man bundled in coats arrive on a litter, but he had served with Alan during their privateer days and knew better than to ask questions.
Alan ordered the ship to be made ready to sail with as little noise as possible. The crew of the Terrapin were all seasoned sailors fiercely loyal to their captain, and they crept about the deck soft-footed, passing along orders in whispers, and cringing when winches squeaked or some poor soul dropped a handspike on the deck.
As Alan had expected, he found his own surgeon passed out on his bunk, an empty rum bottle lying nearby. Alan ordered several men to haul him off the ship and dump him and his belongings on the dock. He then offered to take Perry on as ship’s surgeon.
Perry readily agreed. “It would be an honor, Captain Northrop.”
The surgeon wrote a brief note to his wife, and Alan sent a midshipman to his home to deliver the message and fetch his belongings. The surgeon’s mate, a healer who had probably done more than the drunken surgeon to treat his fellow crew members, worked along with Perry to try to save Henry’s life.
He lay in the sick bay, unconscious, covered in blood and pale as a corpse. Alan had resolved to remain with him, but when he saw the surgeon’s blade flash in the light, his gut twisted and he had to leave. He hurried to his cabin to take a drink of brandy and try to imagine what life would be like without his best friend.
“I will have to be the one to tell Lady Ann,” Alan said to himself.
He couldn’t bear the thought. He poured himself another drink and went up on deck to wait for Randolph and Mr. Sloan. The ship was ready to sail, but he did not want to leave before talking with his friends. The sun had been up an hour by the time they arrived.
“Come down to my cabin,” said Alan. “We can talk in private.”
“How is Henry?” Randolph asked.
“How is His Lordship, sir?” Mr. Sloan asked at the same time.
Alan shook his head. “I haven’t received the report from the surgeon. I was with him, but I couldn’t stay. Not with him lying there—” He couldn’t go on.
Mr. Sloan handed over a leather pouch. “This contains papers His Lordship deems important. Master Yates and I destroyed the rest. I have also brought clothes for His Lordship, as well as information Master Yates wanted him to have regarding the liquid Breath pool he terms the White Well. Master Yates says that if we are anywhere near the Aligoes, he expects us to search for it.”
Alan smiled, shook his head, and took the pouch. He opened the iron safe and placed it inside along with his sealed orders. He closed the safe and locked it.
“I don’t suppose you managed to talk Simon into coming?”
“Stubborn as a goddamn wyvern,” Randolph stated. “Mr. Sloan and I both tried to persuade him to leave, but he is determined to go back to Welkinstead.”
“Since the house landed in an open field, and just missed crashing into the forest, Simon will probably be safe enough there,” Alan said thoughtfully. “And he has Albright.”
Mr. Sloan appeared preoccupied. “If I might ask a question, Captain?”
“Certainly, Mr. Sloan,” said Alan. He exchanged glances with Randolph. They both knew what he was about to ask.
“I understand that Sir Richard’s manservant, Mr. Henshaw, betrayed His Lordship. Is that true?”
“It is, Mr. Sloan,” said Alan. “I saw him.”
“Do you suspect Sir Richard of taking part in this betrayal, sir?” Mr. Sloan asked.
Randolph shook his head. “Not the Old Chap.”
“I agree with Randolph, Mr. Sloan,” said Alan. “I would guess that Henshaw took it upon himself to betray Henry, probably with some misguided idea of keeping his master safe.”
“Knowing what I know of Sir Richard, I concur, sir,” said Mr. Sloan. “Regarding Mr. Henshaw—”
“We will find a way to deal with Henshaw, Mr. Sloan,” Alan said quietly.
“It would be my distinct pleasure to assist you in that endeavor, sir,” said Mr. Sloan. “And now, if I am not needed, I would like to be with Sir Henry.”
“I was about to suggest that, Mr. Sloan,” said Alan. He tried to sound positive. “When he regains consciousness, assure him that all is well. He must concentrate on healing.”
“You’re sailing this morning,” Randolph said to Alan after Mr. Sloan had departed.
“I have my orders,” said Alan. “Which is fortunate, for I need to smuggle Henry out of Freya before the soldiers think to look for him on board the ship.”
They were interrupted by the surgeon. Alan and Randolph faced him in tense, strained silence, neither of them able to ask the terrible question.
Perry gave a weary smile. “Sir Henry is alive and he has regained consciousness.”
“Thank God!” Alan breathed.
Randolph muttered something and removed his handkerchief from his sleeve. He loudly blew his nose.
“The trick will be keeping him alive,” Perry added.
“Infection?” Alan asked anxiously.
“Well, yes, that, of course,” said Perry. “But I was thinking more about the fact that His Lordship is quite determined to leave the ship.”
“Don’t worry,” said Alan. “That won’t happen.”
He summoned his lieutenant and gave the orders to take the Terrapin out of the harbor. “No need for tiptoeing about anymore. Tell the crew to make all the noise they want.”
As the lieutenant departed, they could hear him shouting orders, those orders being repeated, and then the drumming of feet on the deck.
“I believe this news calls for a drink,” said Alan, offering them each a glass of Calvados. “How did the surgery go?”
“I must admit I was doubtful about His Lordship’s chances,” Perry said, refusing the offer. “The bullet broke the clavicle and did considerable damage. His Lordship came near bleeding to death, but your surgeon’s mate is a deft hand at healing magic. I set the clavicle and contrived a sling to prevent His Lordship from moving his arm.
“His Lordship was mercifully unconscious during the procedure, but now that he is awake, he is in a great deal of pain made worse by his attempts to leave his bed. I have offered to give him laudanum, but he refuses to take anything. He demands to speak with you, Captain.”
“I will join you in a moment,” said Alan.
Perry returned to his patient. Randolph gulped his Calvados and Alan walked him to the gangplank, which the sailors were just about to raise.
“I saw your orders still in the safe,” said Randolph. “You haven’t read them.”
“I am ordered not to read them until the ship reaches Upton Point.”
“I’ll find out about this secret mission of yours if I have to go to the king himself,” said Randolph grimly.
“By God, that’s a good idea, Randolph!” said Alan, struck by the notion. “If anyone could gain access to the king, it would be one of His Majesty’s admirals. Find out what you can. But be subtle. Remember that the king is surrounded by spies.”
“I’m always goddamn subtle,” Randolph said, offended. “I am known for my subtlety.”
“Subtle as a brickbat,” said Alan, grinning. “Stay in touch with Simon.”
“Good luck to you and Henry,” said Randolph. “Let me know how he mends.”
The two men shook hands, Randolph left, and Alan gave orders to raise the gangplank. He went below and found Mr. Sloan seated at Henry’s bedside, moistening his master’s lips with water.
“Do not stay long, Captain,” Perry caut
ioned. “His Lordship requires rest. Summon me if you have need. And try to persuade him to take the laudanum. Pain interferes with healing.”
“So does bull-headed stubbornness, but I will do my best,” said Alan.
He walked over to the bed, looked down at his friend.
Henry was pale and feverish, his eyes sunken, his skin gray from blood loss. But he was awake and alert, and glaring at Alan.
“What the devil are you doing? Mr. Sloan tells me that the ship is preparing to set sail!”
“I have my orders,” Alan said.
Mr. Sloan started to place a cooling cloth on Henry’s forehead.
“Get that damn rag off me!” Henry snarled. “I’m not staying on board. I’m going ashore—”
He tried to move, but cried out in pain and fell back onto the bed. He sucked in his breath and groaned in agony. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. He lay in the bed, breathing heavily, until he found the energy to speak.
“I cannot … leave now!” he gasped. “My country … Smythe…”
He groaned again and clamped his lips together.
Alan rested his hand gently on the limp hand of his friend.
“Henry, if you remained in Haever, there is nothing you could do for your country except die.”
Henry gazed at him, silently pleading with him, not so much to change his mind, but to change fate.
Alan understood and pressed his hand.
Henry closed his eyes in bitter resignation. Tears of frustration and anguish mingled with the sweat on his cheeks.
“Give him the laudanum, Mr. Sloan,” said Alan.
He sat with Henry until he had fallen asleep, then went back up on deck. Sails billowed, and magic flowed to the lift tanks that contained the crystals known as the Tears of God. Crew members stood by and, at his command, cast off the lines that tethered the Terrapin to the dock.
Alan drew in the fresh air as the Terrapin caught the wind and rose into the Breath. She was a magnificent sight with her sails spread and the sunlight of a new day shining on the metal plates that gave the ship her name.
Kingmaker (The Dragon Corsairs) Page 22