phantom knights 04 - deceit in delaware

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phantom knights 04 - deceit in delaware Page 9

by Amalie Vantana


  “The dance of death,” Dudley whispered.

  “I doubt that. If I wagered a guess, I’d say this is animal blood,” I replied as I searched the parlor for any other blood.

  “The hell-fire club,” Dudley then said with a moan.

  “The what?” Freddy asked sharply.

  “It was a club in England for the ups. Hannah’s father spoke of it a few times, but m’mother thought it too vile for my ears. There was also the Friars of Medmenham. Fais ce que tu voudras,” Dudley whispered reverently.

  “What does it mean?” I asked as I walked around the small pool of blood.

  “Do what thou wilt. It was the motto of the secret society.”

  “How do you know all of this?” I asked speculatively.

  “Hannah’s grandfather was a member as it were. Pierre told me a bit of their history. Loose screws, her family. The lot of them.”

  I would not disagree with him. “Did you find the artifact?” I asked Freddy as I pocketed the soiled handkerchief.

  “Hold up the lantern,” Freddy said as he began pulling up a floor board that was nearest to the far wall. Freddy pulled a sack from the hole that the board had been concealing.

  Once Freddy had replaced the board, Dudley did a little dance, hopping from one foot to the other while rubbing his hands on his arms. “Can we lope off? This place gives me the fidgets.”

  “As you will,” Freddy said. “There’s not much else to be found here.”

  “Hand over the holy artifact, moral reprobates,” demanded a voice from the door. Three men stepped into the parlor, between us and the door. They were each wearing a golden snake shaped ring on their forefinger, and if that did not alert me to danger, the knives in their hands did.

  “I say, that’s rather harsh,” Dudley spoke up. “We may be second Sunday churchgoers but we’re far from reprobates.”

  “Blackguards,” one of them said. “Do not think to trick us with your sorcery. We must cast out the devil before it has a chance to use the holy artifact against us.”

  The other two began to chant something low as they moved toward us, and Dudley recoiled into me.

  “Uh, Dud, I think it’s time for us to take our leave,” I said, grabbing Dudley’s arm and pressing the handle of the lantern into his hand.

  “Huh?”

  “Now!” I threw Dudley’s arm forward. Dudley swung the lantern at one of the men’s heads. The men, who I knew were some of Luther’s guards, jumped out of the way, their voices raised in curses. Shoving Dudley forward, he pitched himself into the shoulder of one of the men, knocking him successfully into another and them both to the floor in the entry. Dudley stepped onto the back of one and the stomach of another as he ran for the door. Freddy and I followed Dudley out and we took off at a run.

  We ran toward our horses, but a gun firing behind us had us dropping down. The shot went over the horses’ heads and Dudley was on his feet before me, pulling me. With my arm in his grasp, he pulled me with him down the street with Freddy on our heels. Something clattered on the street beside me and I glanced down to see one of their knives.

  “Time to pick up the pace, men.” I shoved Dudley’s shoulder to the right so that he would turn. Another knife flew past us as we turned down King Street.

  What was before us had us sliding to a halt on the brick road.

  Five guards were lined up on the road, with Leo, Sam, and Abe on their knees before them. Their mouths were covered by cloths and their hands were behind their backs. Leo appeared to have a swollen eye, and Sam’s lip was bleeding. Abe was trying to relay something to us, for I could see him motioning with his head toward the guard standing behind Sam, but I could not understand what he was trying to say. And where was William?

  “Moral reprobates, we see that you hold one of the holy artifacts. Surrender it to us and we shall let your friends go free. Refuse and they die.”

  The three guards from the house caught up to us and were upon us in an instant. One of them grabbed my arm and jerked me around while the second jumped on top of Dudley and the third grabbed Freddy.

  The guard who had my arm, pulled back his fist. I raised my hand to catch his fist, but Freddy slammed his shoulder against the guard’s back. The man stumbled forward, releasing my arm. The guard who had tackled Dudley was picking himself off the ground. One of them pulled out a club and raised it to strike Dud. Moving forward, I shoved Dudley to the side as the club came down, catching only air. I threw my arm down against the guard’s, putting my body weight into it, and then I pulled the club from his hand and tossed it away. The guard’s other hand grabbed at my cravat and pulled, my head going with it.

  Exclaiming against the rough treatment of my neck cloth, I threw my fist against the side of his nose, and then kneed him in the groin. Dud threw a punishing right into the gut of one of the others and then broke free. A shot fired behind us, and Dudley stumbled forward, landing on the hard street on his stomach.

  “Dud!” I dropped down beside him as Freddy ran up beside me. “Where are you hit? Speak to me, man!”

  Dudley raised his head and grimaced. “Not hit.”

  Freddy and I helped Dudley to his feet. One of the other guards had a smoking gun, which it appeared that he had fired into the air.

  “Fighting will only anger us. Give us the sacred artifact,” the man behind Sam said.

  He did not have an accent like the others had in the past. Which meant that Luther was hiring men from America to do his bidding. An unsettling prospect.

  A blast shattered the quiet of the night, and behind me one of the guards grunted before dropping to the ground. Another shot rang out, and another. Five consecutive shots crackled the air as men shouted. Dudley pulled me to the ground, and I tried to see from where the assault hailed.

  Pulling my pistol free from my belt, I pushed myself up, prepared to return fire of my own, but then I saw a large figure step into the slice of moonlight illuminating us. He moved between us and where the final guard was holding his gun steady against Sam’s forehead.

  Dudley recoiled into me when he saw the tall man’s face. “Dash it all! What is that thing?”

  It had been four years since I last saw the mask covering my father’s face. It was deep brown and looked like tree bark. He could blend into the trees at night, and often did when we were pursuing people in the forest during certain missions.

  “There will be no trade,” William said, pointing the barrel of his musket at the remaining guard’s head.

  “Loutaire, go,” William said to me without taking his gaze from the guard.

  I began to step toward Sam, but the guard pulled back the hammer on his pistol. I could not see his expression from the distance separating us, but I knew he was warning me to halt.

  “Now,” William ordered. Freddy turned and began to run while Dudley grabbed my arm and pulled me with him back toward Queen Street.

  When we reached the end of the road, I pulled myself free and turned to look back toward my father.

  He did not know me, but if he did, he would know that I never stood by and allowed my friends to be shot.

  Dudley grabbed my arm. “Why are you standing about like a stone?” Dudley suddenly jerked back, uttering, “Loose bowels?”

  Taken aback, I turned toward Dudley. “No!”

  Dudley relaxed his revulsion. “Not that it’s anything for which to be ashamed. Many men tend to wet themselves in the face of battle.”

  “I fought in the war, Dud,” I reminded him.

  “Doesn’t mean you weren’t prone to explosions of another kind.”

  “Dud, be silent,” I hissed, and then turned my attention back to the men.

  “A good thing too. I was terrified that he would go further into detail,” Freddy said. “Why are we standing about? Your father told us to run, and I find that to be the best suggestion considering what I carry.”

  “Freddy, you and Dudley take your horses and ride back to Sam’s house. Make certain that the women a
re unharmed. I am going to offer my aid to William.”

  Keeping to the shadows, I ran down the road to where I could hear what William and the guard were saying.

  “Step away and I shall let you live. It is really your only hope for survival,” William was saying.

  Leo was free and untying Abe’s hands.

  “You think that I do not know who this is, but we all know. If I am harmed so will he be. Your daughter’s husband. Not that it matters considering where your daughter is at this moment.”

  The guard smirked at my father and I felt my body turn cold.

  “We were not the only ones at work this night. You should never leave your women unattended, if you wish them to remain alive. As is expected, your daughter fought valiantly, before we killed her.”

  A muffled growl came from Sam before he shoved himself into the guard. The guard stumbled back as Sam fell on the ground. Immediately back on his feet, Sam turned toward the guard … and paused.

  The guard aimed his pistol at Sam’s head.

  I ran forward, no longer caring about anything. Whether he spoke the truth or not did not matter. All that mattered was stopping that man from harming Sam.

  There was a wild resignation on the guard’s face as he stared at William. We all saw it in that moment. What was coming. The guard did not care if he died as long as he took one of us with him.

  In a matter of seconds, William aimed his musket at the guard, Leo shouted as he ran forward, there was a swirl of movement, and flashes of two guns firing, one after another. The guard fell, Sam hit the ground, my father lowered his musket, and Leo dropped down beside Sam. I reached them in time to see Leo roll Abe off Sam.

  His dark eyes were staring up at the night sky, but … but he was not seeing it.

  Stumbling to a halt, my mind refused to comprehend what I was seeing. There was blood seeping all over Abe’s chest.

  For a breath stealing moment I could not move, and then I was dropping to my knees beside Leo. It could not be how it appeared. Abe was strong. He was a fighter.

  William got Sam’s hands free and Sam rushed to Abe’s side, dropping down to his knees and lifting Abe’s body up. Sam shook him, shouting at him to wake.

  Abe’s lifeless body shook as easily as a leaf in the wind against Sam’s attempts to wake him.

  Sam rested Abe’s head against his lap, and then began to tear his own shirt. He bunched the cloth into a ball and pressed it against the wound.

  “Sam,” William tried to say, but Sam cursed at him.

  “We can still save him. He will survive this. He will!”

  “He is gone, Sam,” William whispered, saying the words that neither Leo nor I could speak.

  “No!” Sam shouted at the sky, the cry of a man broken. “Forgive me,” Sam said to Abe as he clutched him to his chest. “Forgive me.”

  “Oh, God,” I whispered as I dropped back, realizing the truth. Abe was gone.

  Leaning forward, Sam pressed his forehead against Abe’s and the storm broke. His weeping became cries, shouts, and pleas. It was as if I was watching a piece of his heart break and then shatter into millions of pieces that could never be replaced. Abe’s loss could never be recovered.

  We had lost one of the greatest men who ever lived. A humble man who had endured more in his life than any person ever should. He was more than just a friend to Sam, he was family. He was Sam’s cousin, and Betsy’s brother.

  Oh, Betsy.

  My heart constricted for her, for she had now lost all of her family. Her mother, her father, and her brother.

  “Why?” Sam suddenly shouted into the night. Moisture rushed into my eyes. Blinking it away, I rose and turned toward where William was standing.

  “I sent Dudley and Freddy to see to the women, but one of us should…” I could not finish my words for it felt as if I was dishonoring Abe somehow. Moving on the moment after we lost him.

  William laid a hand on my shoulder. “You should go. Go to your wife and sister. I will see to this.”

  Nodding, I moved away, but only made it a few feet before I looked back. Seeing Sam’s grief and Abe’s motionless body, rage filled my veins. Luther had done this. And he would pay.

  CHAPTER 9

  GUINEVERE

  We reached the harbor within ten minutes of setting out and began our search for the boat. It did not take long to find it because the men who had taken Bess were rowing to a boat anchored further out in the water.

  There were several small boats tied around the nearest dock to us, so I moved toward it and began to untie the rope, before I realized that Rose had not followed me. Twisting in her direction, she was staring up at one of the warehouses that ran along the harbor.

  “What is it?” I demanded as I finished untying the boat.

  “We need a distraction,” Rose said thoughtfully, distracted herself. “Yes. That is what we need.” Rose began walking toward the warehouse instead of toward me.

  “Rose,” I hissed, trying to draw her back. When she did not turn, I spoke her true name. “Arabella!”

  She halted and glanced over her shoulder at me, still distracted, but willing to discover what I needed.

  “The boat is that way,” I said, pointing out toward the water.

  “Do you remember Baltimore in fourteen?” She asked it as if reminiscing.

  Casting my mind back over years, I quickly tossed my sister a worried look as I remembered of what she was referring.

  “You cannot blow up that boat with Bess on board.”

  Rose huffed out a breath as she placed her hands upon her small hips, quite annoyed at me. “That is why I need the distraction. You row out to that boat, get Bess off of there, while leaving a trail behind you, and I will do the rest when you are safe away.”

  “How will you know that I am safe away if you cannot see me, and you will not be able to in the dark?”

  I was certain that my sister cast her eyes heavenward even though I could not perfectly see her doing it. “There are lanterns upon that boat are there not? Truly, Guinevere, one would think this was your first time blowing up a boat.”

  “I never have blown up a boat. That was all you,” I retorted.

  “Yes, without me you would be quite lost. Now, do make haste, there are not moments to spare.” With that said, Rose sauntered toward the warehouse where I was sure she would find just what she was searching for.

  Climbing into the small boat, I gripped the oars and began to row myself out to the ship. If I kept to the starboard side and then made my way around, no one would see me approaching, for their attention was elsewhere.

  When I reached the boat, I used my hands to guide the small boat toward the rope ladder that had not been pulled up after Bess was taken on board.

  If any of the crewmen heard the lapping of my small vessel against the water they paid it no heed. I could hear laughter on the deck, and words spoken in both Danish and English, though I could not make them out over the slapping water.

  After securing the rope from the boat to the rope ladder, I hoisted myself up and began to climb. When I reached the rail, I slowly glanced over the edge and onto the deck. What I saw caused me no small amount of pause.

  Why would any of those imbeciles allow Bess to gain access to a sword? Did they not know who she was?

  Bess was keeping all of the men at bay, but she was still surrounded as they laughed at her. When one would approach she would turn her blade in their direction, making the others laugh.

  With their attention riveted upon Bess, I was able to grasp the rail and climb my way across the outside of the ship, trying to reach the nearest window that was open. It did not occur to me that someone would be inside the room with the open window until I was shoving my way through the narrow space.

  A man with a mop stoop agape as my boots touched the wooden plank floor. His clothes were threadbare, and I was certain that he had more teeth missing than were crookedly perched inside his open mouth. I smiled at him and he gulped for air
, dropping his mop with a clatter.

  “Bbb-be you a gg-host?” he stuttered.

  Casting him the full force of my grin, I replied, “I have been known to be called a ghost a time or two, though I prefer Phantom.”

  His eyes stretched their length and then he turned and ran toward the door, not realizing that it was shut. His face smacked against the wood but it did not halt him as he tried to twist the knob and open the door.

  Looking about me quickly, I grabbed the sextant from what I assumed was the captain’s desk. Running toward him, I threw the heavy object just as he reached the companionway and was trying to run. It struck the back of his head as I intended and I nodded my triumph when he fell face first to the floor. Hopping over parts of his spread out form, I moved down the companionway, but when I reached the stairs I did not go up to the deck.

  Making my way down into the darkest parts of the ship, I found a door to the compartment that I hoped was the hull. When I saw the barrels, I quickly located the one marked as gunpowder. One of the barrels was open and there were several sacks lying around where the powder monkeys would have loaded the sacks to transport them to the cannons. This ship either practiced their strategies for war, or they recently had reason to fire upon another ship. Loading several bags as full as I could and still carry them, I began to sprinkle a path of gunpowder from the hull, across the small companionway, up the stairs, and toward the deck. As I went, I dropped the bags as they emptied, and when I found a lantern, I grabbed it before climbing my way up the last few stairs to the deck. The crew’s attention was still upon Bess, but it looked as if she had wounded several men who had gotten too close, for there were red slashes upon a few faces, arms, and torsos. Slipping behind some barrels, I paused to dip my hands into a rain barrel, washing away the powder from my fingers. With that finished, I moved toward the rail where the rope ladder and my boat waited. It was only when I stepped toward the rail did the first man see me. And it was the captain.

  “What have we here?” he asked in perfect English. That my uncle was going to be the cause of Englishmen being killed caused me a moment of remorse, but only a moment.

 

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