Rory suppressed the urge to laugh hysterically. “I could not have written such an outrageous story!”
“Think of the material you’ll have for future books!” Gabriel pointed out.
This time she did laugh. Quietly.
* * *
Siçan waited for them at the exit from the palace cellars. Gabriel was relieved, for he’d not have liked to find his way out of these ancient tunnels without help. He said succinctly, “Gürkan is dead.”
The Rat gave a small whistle of surprise when the women and children emerged from the cellar exit. “Gürkan is dead and you have rescued your women, I see! Well done. My man took Malek and his men out, and now I’ll guide you to your ship. The rescue is not complete until you are safely away.”
“How badly was Malek hurt?”
“He’d been beaten, but he was well enough to run,” Siçan said reassuringly.
“Alive!” Damla gasped. “My husband is alive!”
“So you are Malek’s beloved!” Siçan said with interest. “And these must be the children. Allah be thanked for a good night’s work! Now come.”
Still scarcely believing that they’d succeeded and Rory was unharmed, Gabriel kept one arm around her as he followed Siçan. Ramsay was similarly supporting Constance. The others followed with Malek’s men still carrying the children.
Siçan took them back by a different, longer route that brought them to the surface in a narrow alley very near the Zephyr. Gabriel’s neck prickled as he listened for possible pursuit, but the sewers and cisterns were silent except for the drip of water and the rustle of rats and other vermin that sheltered in this underground maze.
One rat made the mistake of darting at Siçan, who moved with unbelievable swiftness to stab the beast with the metal hook on his right hand. It screamed, and Siçan gave a hard shake that reminded Gabriel of The Spook at work. Then he tossed the rat aside and they resumed their march.
Cool night air was a relief after the interminable journey and an ascent of more broken stairs. Turning to Siçan, Gabriel bent in a deep bow. “You have my most profound gratitude, Lord Rat. Truly Allah guided you this night.”
The other man grinned, his crooked teeth bright against his beard. “It has been a pleasure, Captain. I have made a great deal of money, contributed to the death of an evil man, and have a splendid new story to entertain my friends and family. Go with Allah, unbeliever.” He returned the bow, then led his people away.
Gabriel smiled back, and turned to take Rory’s hand for the last leg of the journey. He quickly released her when she gasped with pain. “You’re hurt?”
“I burned my hands when I grabbed a samovar to use as a weapon,” she said tersely. “Nothing serious, but I’m not ready to hold hands, I fear.”
Trying to imagine the battle that had taken place, he took her arm and led her toward the waterfront. When they were within sight of the Zephyr, Ramsay stopped. “It’s time for me to go my own way, Hawkins. If you get to London, leave a message on my behalf at Hatchards bookstore. Now that the wars are over, maybe we Rogues Redeemed can meet in person and share lies and drinks.”
Gabriel laughed and offered his hand. “I owe you everything, Ramsay. I’ll give thanks for your unofficial methods of aid till the day I die.”
Ramsay looked wryly amused. “No thanks necessary. I’m still working on redeeming myself.”
Rory rose on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “The work you’ve done tonight is surely enough to redeem any sinner’s soul, Mr. Ramsay.”
He caught his breath and touched his fingers to his cheek. “The scales aren’t yet balanced, Lady Aurora, but I’m honored to have helped you and the others to freedom.”
As Ramsay disappeared into the darkness, Gabriel and Rory followed the rest of the group through the shadows to the ship’s berth. The guards at the bottom of the gangway were grinning with pleasure as the raiders and escapees passed by them.
Gabriel and Rory were the last to ascend. Jason Landers was at the top of the gangway, and when he saw Constance, he grabbed her so hard that he swept her from her feet. She wept, her fingernails digging into his back. “Jason, Jason!”
Suzanne was standing in the middle of the deck looking bedraggled, confused, and exultant. Gabriel said to his second mate, “Mr. Lane, this French lady, Madame Suzanne, was vital in helping us complete our mission. Make sure she has everything she needs and take her to the cabin that the English ladies shared so she can rest.”
Lane touched the brim of his hat. “Aye, aye, Captain. Madame Suzanne, will you come with me so I can get you settled?”
The Frenchwoman bit her lip. “It has been five years since I’ve had a choice about anything,” she said in a shaking voice.
“Now you have the freedom of the ship, Madame Suzanne,” Gabriel said. “Rest well with all our thanks.”
“And my thanks to you for doing the impossible,” she said in a low voice as Lane led her away.
Gabriel said, “It’s time to cast off, Mr. Landers. Where is Malek?”
“Below in his cabin. He was beaten badly, but doesn’t seem to have taken any permanent harm.” Releasing Constance, Landers started giving orders to set sail.
Gabriel smiled at Damla. “Come, my lady. Your husband awaits you. Constance, you come, too.”
Eyes shining, Damla took both children by the hand and followed Gabriel down into the captain’s quarters. Having heard the commotion above decks, a battered and bandaged Malek was limping from his cabin when he saw Damla and his children dashing toward him.
He froze, looking ready to faint. “Merciful Allah! Are you ghosts? Gürkan said that he’d had you strangled!”
“Why would he kill us when he could still use us to torture you?” Damla’s voice was calm, but silent tears glinted on her cheeks as she fell into her husband’s embrace.
The children hurled themselves around their father’s legs, almost knocking him over in a radiant four-way hug. Malek sank to the deck, crushing his family to him as gulping sobs racked his battered body.
Feeling the reunion was too private to observe, Gabriel led the Englishwomen into his starboard cabin. “I’m staying on deck until we’re in the Bosphorus, but you two must rest, and my bed is big enough for both of you.” He also privately thought the two of them shouldn’t be alone just yet after all they’d been through. “Rory, you know where the key to the brandy cabinet is kept.”
“Don’t expect to find much left in the bottle,” she said with brittle humor.
He pulled Rory into another embrace, hating to let go of her. Clearly feeling the same way, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face against his shoulder. “I can never thank you enough, my captain. I was sure I was doomed.”
He smiled teasingly. “I retrieved you as much for my benefit as for yours, my lady bright. Who would be the light and joy of my life if you were still locked in a harem?”
“There is more darkness in me than you knew.” She opened her blistered hand to reveal a sharp, bloodstained bone dagger. “In the past, my darkness was in my stories. Tonight, it erupted into my life.”
He raised her battered hand and kissed her fingertips. “That is not darkness but strength, and it won you your freedom.”
As Rory blinked back tears, Constance gently took her arm. “Let us drink brandy, wash away blood, and share nightmares, cousin.”
Rory managed a watery smile. “As always, your ideas are excellent.”
Gabriel watched them disappear into his cabin. Later he wanted to hear the whole story, but for now, he needed to sail the Zephyr as far and fast as her sails and good seamanship could take her.
Exhausted but feeling a vast sense of peace, he returned to the main deck. He could feel the Zephyr quivering as anchors were raised and sails unfurled. Tide and wind were in their favor, and there was enough moonlight for the ship to edge cautiously out into the main channel. By dawn, they should be out of the Golden Horn and into the Bosphorus.
There were a number of threads to be untangled for the Zephyr’s passengers, but now, inshallah, Gabriel and his friends would have the time and freedom to set the courses for their futures.
* * *
Constance lit the lamps in the bedroom, then removed her bloodstained outer robe, revealing the clean layers of silk below. “Where is the brandy kept?”
“In that cabinet there.” Rory removed her own outer robe, then sank wearily onto the edge of the bed. “I burned my hands when I grabbed the samovar. There should be salve and bandages in a drawer below the brandy.”
Constance clucked her tongue at the sight of her cousin’s blistered hands. “I’m glad the water pipe wasn’t as hot! Sit still and I’ll dress those burns. They don’t look too serious, but I’m sure they hurt.”
Rory sat passively as Constance cleaned her hands, spread salve over the burns, and wrapped light bandages over the palms. After Constance gave her a glass of watered brandy, she said, “If I ever write another story, it will be about lambs and kittens and daisies. Real adventure is much nastier than I realized.”
“Believe me, I understand the impulse to write only sweet stories! I’m envisioning a whole series of books about good-natured pigmy goats.” Constance poured brandy for herself, then piled pillows against the headboard and leaned back. “But if not for your imagination and storytelling skills, I doubt we’d still be alive. Think of all the daring escapes our characters have had. As you and I discussed how to save them, we were doing a kind of rehearsal for how we might react to real dangers.”
Rory shaped the rest of the pillows and leaned back as she sipped her brandy. “What makes you say that?” she asked, puzzled. “I’ve never written anything so horrible as we experienced tonight.”
“No, but together we developed the habit of thinking about danger and how to deal with it.” Constance took a thoughtful sip of her brandy. “I felt like a paralyzed rabbit when Gürkan started threatening us. There was nothing in my mind but fear. Then you said he was going to kill us and mentioned The Warrior Maiden. Even more important, you refused to tamely surrender to greater strength. You acted. That broke through my paralysis so I could act, too.”
“Those two big bullying men didn’t expect us to fight back effectively, which was why we took them by surprise,” Rory agreed. “It all happened so quickly!”
“You inspired Damla as well. She’s the one who got Daud’s sword away from him before he could use it.”
“Hearing Gürkan threaten her children turned her into a bloodthirsty dervish.” Rory glanced at the scarlet-stained busks, which Constance had deposited on a bedside table. “They certainly didn’t expect us to be carrying bone knives.”
“That’s another example of how your imagination saved us. I was doubtful when you suggested that Lady Alana could have carved the busk of her stays into a knife.” Constance gripped her brandy tumbler. “If you hadn’t said that we must see if it worked, we wouldn’t have had our weapons to hand when we needed them.”
“I suppose that’s why soldiers are drilled so much. So they know what to do when danger threatens.” Rory swallowed the rest of her brandy and covered a yawn. “I think I’ve relaxed enough to sleep. I’m not looking forward to the nightmares, though.”
“We’ll face them together just as we faced those monsters,” Constance promised. “I’ll leave one of the lamps burning. I don’t want to wake up in darkness.”
“Nor do I,” Rory murmured as she stretched out and rolled over on her side. She blinked. “Where did The Spook come from? I’d swear he wasn’t here when we arrived.”
“He has the magical ability to travel through solid doors, I think.” Constance scratched the cat’s head before dowsing all but one of the lanterns.
She curled up next to Rory and slowly relaxed to the gentle roll of the ship cutting through quiet seas. By the time the bodies of Gürkan and Daud were discovered, they should be well away.
Constance and Rory had often shared beds in their travels, and after the ghastly events of the night, it was a relief to be with her cousin and best friend. It was also a relief to have a long, warm cat settle between them and purr.
Thank God and the brave men who’d rescued them, they were safe!
Chapter 30
Constance awoke as dawn lightened the cabin windows. She’d always been an early riser, and she felt surprisingly rested considering that she’d had only a few hours of sleep. Rory was still sleeping soundly, The Spook lying along her side. Rory had always been more of an owl, reading and writing well into the night. The tension lines had smoothed out on her face, and she looked younger and more relaxed.
Constance imagined they’d both have nightmares about the previous night’s horrors for years to come, but already the bloody violence seemed distant. Not quite real. For that, she was grateful.
Feeling restless, she slipped from the bed. She wanted to go down into the hold and visit with the animals that were returning home to Algiers.
Well, why not? She considered her costume, which was several layers of Turkish robes in shades of blue. She couldn’t retrieve any of her own clothing from the cabin she’d shared with Rory because Suzanne was there. But the Turkish robes covered her far more thoroughly than most European gowns so she shouldn’t shock anyone too much.
Amazingly, she still had the head scarf Jason had given her since she’d been allowed to keep it when being prepared for Gürkan. She tied it around her waist like a sash and left the cabin. She liked the ship’s quiet at this hour. Soon, the cook would be busy in the galley preparing breakfast and the ship’s bells would be ringing for the change of watch, but for now the ship was hers.
The Zephyr was sailing smoothly west. Home. They must go to Algiers first to deliver Malek, his family, and his men, but in a few weeks they’d be back in England. Though there would be major changes in her life, at least she’d be in a country where she spoke the language and understood the customs.
She smelled the familiar scents of the menagerie as she descended the companionway to the hold. The miniature hippos were sleeping, the tips of their noses above water for breathing. She greeted the small horses and donkeys and ostriches. Even the lion just blinked at her sleepily.
Inevitably, she ended up at the enclosure that held the pygmy goats. They tumbled over each other to reach her, giving happy little bleats. With a contented sigh, she settled down in the straw with her back to the wall and cuddled the small warm bodies. “Blackie, I’m going to make you the hero of a series of children’s books.”
Oblivious to the honor, he tried to chew her sash. As she gently tugged it from his mouth, a familiar voice said laughingly, “Is this a girl-and-goat party only, or may I join you?”
“Jason!” She half turned in the straw, smiling at him as he entered the enclosure and latched it behind him. When she’d seen him briefly on her return to the ship, he’d been wearing a hat, but now he was bareheaded and bandaged. “How is your head? I was terrified when Gürkan’s men attacked you. I . . . I was afraid you were dead.”
“Americans have hard heads,” he said reassuringly as he slid down next to her and looped his arm around her shoulders. “I bled all over the place and was out for a while, but there was no real harm. How are you feeling? You endured much worse than I did.”
She shuddered. “I’m doing my best to convince myself that Gürkan and his harem never happened. It’s hard to believe that it all took place in less than a day.”
“Credit goes to the captain for putting together a rescue so quickly. I wouldn’t have believed it possible. I wanted to go with him on the raid, but he flat-out ordered me to stay on the ship to take her away if necessary.” His arm tightened around her. “Do you want to tell me about what happened to you, or would you rather not?”
She realized that she did want to tell him, so she burrowed under his arm and briefly outlined what had happened from the time they were kidnapped until their safe return.
He gave a soft whistle when she was
finished. “Thank God you all worked together so effectively!”
“Credit for that goes to Rory. She had the courage to strike back, and she inspired Damla and me to do so as well.” Constance drew a deep breath. “Now I’m trying to get used to the idea that I have a future.”
“I hope you’ll spend it with me.” He kissed her forehead. “Marry me, Constance?”
Her heart leaped, then returned nervously to its usual place. “Are you sure that’s what you want? We talked about it, but that was just daydreaming about a future that didn’t seem possible.”
“It wasn’t daydreaming for me,” he said seriously, his gaze catching hers. “I was praying every night that you and Lady Aurora would be on this return journey. This may be too soon to ask you after all that has happened, but the offer is open until you’re ready to give me an answer.”
She bit her lip as tears stung her eyes. The time they’d spent together on the outward journey had seemed magical. Not quite real. But the solid warmth of his arm, the deep honesty in his eyes, was very true. She must be no less honest. “Are you sure, Jason?” she asked uncertainly. “Don’t make a huge mistake because of what we did and said before Constantinople. You don’t owe me anything.”
Voice soft, he said, “I’m not making a mistake. I think you’ll be happy if you marry me. I know I’ll be happy.”
She sighed. “You’re a lovely romantic, Jason. But don’t forget that I’m illegitimate, a foreigner to your country, and I have no fortune. I’ll bring you nothing but myself.”
“Coming to America would be a huge change for you,” he agreed. “But you don’t need a dowry. My family has a fine business and one day I’ll be running the Landers shipyard. They’ll adore you, and my mother will be glad not to have to deal with a rival mother-in-law. As for being illegitimate . . .” He shrugged. “It’s a new land, and a new start for you, and a new name. Your English past won’t matter, only your future as Mrs. Jason Landers. If you’ll have me.”
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