Juli was waiting for her at the stable when she returned. In a choked voice she told the housekeeper what she’d just seen. “Did Father Sebastian leave?” she asked.
“Hours ago. Why?”
“I wanted to tell him to alert the Dutch East India Company. The mouth of the river has to be blocked. There’s no other way for the impostor to get her ship out. None of them would last a day in the jungle on foot. I have to bathe and go into town. This will finally clear my mother’s name. I can hardly believe it.”
“You realize you missed Señor Domingo’s departure, don’t you?” Juli demanded as they walked back into the house.
“What would you have me do, Juli? I did my best. I thought it more advantageous to find out what I could about that miserable woman. She’s in the Rana’s cove, don’t you understand? I must warn the governors about her.”
“I suppose so,” Juli said reluctantly. “At least we no longer have to worry about the two men Mynheer Dykstra’s had watching the house. They left at midafternoon. I suppose now that he has no chance of being made governor, Dykstra’s lost interest in playing detective and building up his reputation at your expense.”
Fury looked at Juli and grinned. “It’s almost too bad, in a way. I was looking forward to using that balcony. . . .”
The town was dark when Fury reined in her horse at the parish house. She was on the ground in an instant, straightening her dress and smoothing back stray tendrils of hair that escaped the knot on top of her head. She strode off briskly toward the harbor, hoping against hope that the Silver Lady would still be at the wharf. Her heart sank at the sight of the empty slip.
“Looking for someone, little lady?” asked the harbormaster, coming up behind her. Fury whirled to find a kind looking old man with pure white hair staring at her with concern.
“The Silver Lady? Did she sail with the tide?”
“Aye, that she did. It was a busy hour this night. The governors left, as did Mynheer Dykstra. Man up and resigned his post—just like that.”
Fury bit down on her lower lip. “I suspected he might. Are the offices empty?” she asked.
“Aye, and they’ll remain closed until the new manager arrives. That’s what the sign in the window says,” the harbormaster said jovially.
“A poor way of doing business, if you ask me,” Fury said tartly. “When my father was manager of the company, the doors were never closed.”
The harbormaster shrugged. “It’s getting late, little lady. You best be getting indoors before some of these scurvy seamen mistake you for one of ... well, before they think Clarice let you out for a stroll. I’ll walk with you if you have a destination in mind,” he offered.
“The parish house,” Fury said, looking about her curiously. Sure enough, she noticed a few seamen here and there, watching her with open interest. The same kind of seamen she’d seen in the cove.
When Fury knocked at the parish house door, Father Sebastian received her with stunned surprise. What young lady traveled about in the darkness doing God only knew what? Furana seemed to make a habit of it.
“What is it, child?” he asked, alarmed. “What’s happened?”
Fury babbled then, the way the parrot in the kitchen did the moment his cage cover was removed. “So you see, Father,” she concluded, “I can’t alert the burghers. They will block the entrance to the river, and while it will seal the impostor’s ship in the cove, it means I will never be able to return the Rana to her resting place. I don’t think my mother would ever forgive me if I allowed that to happen. Oh, I truly don’t know what to do. On the way into town I was convinced blocking the mouth of the river was the only sensible thing to do. Now the thought seems ridiculous. What am I to do?”
“Child, I wish I knew,” the priest said wearily. “It all seems like a bad dream.”
“Father,” Fury said softly, her voice tinged with regret, “Luis—Señor Domingo was gone when I finally arrived at the harbor. Do you . . . were you there when he left?”
The old priest nodded. “I gave his ship and two others my blessing before they set out to sea. I don’t believe sufficient stores were loaded on any of them. Mynheer Dykstra sailed his own ship. There was a diamond merchant with him, and a fine dandy he was. The governors, too, set sail, with much fanfare. At the last moment there was a delay when a young seaman left Mynheer Dykstra’s ship and asked to sign on the Silver Lady. Mynheer Dykstra was most upset when the man refused to sail with him. But Senor Domingo was the first to leave.” Father Sebastian spread his hands wide. “I’m sorry, Furana, I have nothing else to tell you.”
“I’m going around in circles,” Fury muttered. “Why is it so hard for me to make a decision? I feel that the impostor is going to attack Señor Domingo’s ship . . . needlessly, Father, because the diamond merchant is now carrying the gems himself, aboard Mynheer Dykstra’s ship.” She shook her head in confusion. “Oh, it’s all happened too quickly.”
“If Luis Domingo doesn’t have the diamonds, he can’t very well produce them for the impostor. All he has to do is tell her they’re on Mynheer Dykstra’s ship.” The priest rubbed his gnarled fingers to ease the pain. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“Delay my . . . plead my case with the Mother Superior by way of the archbishop. If I sail after Señor Domingo, there is no guarantee I’ll be able to return in time to enter the convent. I don’t even know where Juli’s brothers have hidden the Rana. It could take days for them to return and that much time again to set sail. Señor Domingo will have too much of a head start. A spell of bad weather could delay me even more. Will you intervene, Father?” she pleaded.
“I’ll do my best, child,” Father Sebastian promised.
“That’s all I ask,” Fury said, relieved. “If things don’t work out, if I’m denied entrance to the convent for some reason, then I’ll have to take it as a sign from God that I’m not to pursue my vocation.”
“Yes, that sounds reasonable to me.” He wanted to beg her to stay the night, knowing full well no lady ever traveled alone in darkness—on horseback, no less. But this lady, so like her mother, did not follow the rules of propriety. And she was obviously determined to return to the casa.
“Thank you so much for listening to me, Father,” Fury said, walking with him to the front door. “I feel much better now. I’ll have Juli or one of the other servants apprise you of whatever I decide to do.”
The night was inky black with a sprinkling of stars overhead. The sultry breeze blowing off the ocean tickled Fury’s cheeks and neck. The streets were quiet, the houses dark. For the first time she became aware of the late hour and the long ride looming ahead of her. She’d come to town on a fool’s errand, but how was she to know the Dutch East India Companys’ manager had sailed on the tide along with Luis Domingo and the governors? Why had they left so soon? she wondered. Her father had told her they sometimes stayed for months at a time. And Dykstra—how strange that he should leave on such short notice. Did he simply plan to abandon his house and his holdings in Batavia? Did he plan to return? Who was to succeed him in the Dutch East India Company’s offices? Why had the governors closed the offices?
Fury sat down on the parish steps, her elbows propped on her knees, and tried to fathom the day’s events. Dykstra, if he truly did suspect her mother’s identity, wouldn’t let the matter fade away to nothing. He was an astute business manager, and as such he might have tried to strike a bargain with the governors. Maybe he hadn’t really been passed over as governor; maybe it was just meant to look that way.
The moment Fury was secure in the saddle, the horse galloped off, nostrils flaring, mane whipping across her tight hold on the reins.
There was a plan, she was certain of it. All she had to do was puzzle it out. And she would start with Luis Domingo.
What man, she wondered, would give up a handsome commission to return home to Spain with only sandalwood in his hold? Dykstra had first hired him to set a trap for the Sea Siren, and then he’d hired
him to guard the diamond merchant on his trip back to Spain. As far as she knew, Luis Domingo was not a rich man, and the commission would have been handsome. But he’d given it up, or so he’d said. He’d also said he was not going to reveal her identity or her mother’s. Why? Because of Dykstra? But Dykstra wanted the Sea Siren, badly. How good was Domingo’s word?
Then there was Peter Dykstra, who’d been passed over as governor in favor of a younger man, Father Sebastian said. That didn’t make sense. The Dutch East India Company favored older, experienced men like her father and Dykstra. In ordering Luis Domingo to capture the Sea Siren, Dykstra could have been acting from personal interest alone. If so, mightn’t it have had to do with revenge against her father, her mother, and herself? Yet, her father and Dykstra were the best of friends, and had been for years.
Third, the arrival of the governors was not, by itself, unusual. But the timing of their visit and their abrupt departure were. All details worthy of her attention.
And where did the diamond merchant fit into all of this? Fury wondered. Whose ship was he really sailing on? Or were the diamonds on one ship and the man on another?
So many questions, so few answers. What she had to do now was examine all the details and come up with answers. They, in turn, would lead her to a conclusion.
By the time she reached the casa Fury had a pounding headache. But she also had her answers. Upstairs, she looked longingly at her bed but knew she had to commit to paper her conclusions before she surrendered to sleep.
The diamonds, she wrote, were obviously worth more than she imagined. Possibly a million pesetas if the gems were flawless. Luis Domingo was carrying the diamonds, possibly in his seaman’s bag, to throw off suspicion. The board of governors had indeed appointed Dykstra governor, but because of the Sea Siren’s “reappearance” they’d come up with the ruse that had been enacted at the von Klausner soiree. Because, she scribbled, the resulting furor would draw attention away from the diamond consignment. Furthermore, the woman posing as the Sea Siren had already accosted Luis Domingo twice and knew he was sailing with only sandalwood in his hold, sandalwood she didn’t want. The diamond merchant was sailing on Peter Dykstra’s ship, the governors on a third ship. A small convoy, of sorts, but who would be escorting whom?
Fury leaned back in her chair, her temples throbbing. Something niggled at her, something the priest said. A detail, an important one. Fury massaged her temples, knowing the answer would come to her if she could just relax and think about something else for a little while.
She thought of her parents and the games she’d played with her younger bro—The young man who had signed on Luis’s ship at the last moment! Father Sebastian had said Mynheer Dykstra had been upset. That little detail had to mean something.
Fury was off her chair in a second, twirling around in a dizzying circle. Of course, he was a member of the impostor’s crew! He’d changed ships at the last moment to allow someone at the harbor to inform the impersonator that the diamonds were aboard Luis’s ship.
She had it all now. The question was, what should she do? What could she do? There was no way to overtake the small convoy at this time. She could sail in a jolly boat down the river and into the cove and attack the impostor. But it was such a foolhardy idea, she felt disgusted with herself for even thinking of it. Her other alternative was to wait for Juli’s brothers to return and take her own ship. Somewhere en route she’d lie in wait for the impostor and attack her ship, thereby granting safe conduct for Luis and the convoy.
Fury threw herself on the bed, burying her face in the pillow. “I’ll never see him again. He’ll never know for certain I am my mother’s daughter. Someday,” she cried into the pillow, “he might hear a story of this coming battle and remember me.”
A stiff breeze ruffled the bedcovers as Gaspar sailed into the room, his talons searching for the bedrail. His wings rustled and fluttered as he inched his way to the pillow Fury lay upon. “I tried to see him again,” she whispered brokenly. “I wanted to see him, but it wasn’t meant to be. All I can do now is try to make his journey as safe as possible. He . . . I could love him,” she sobbed. “Now I . . . I couldn’t even say good-bye.” She rolled over and sat up, tears streaming down her cheeks. “And what will become of you and Pilar when I go to the convent?” A fresh wave of sobs broke out.
Gaspar moved one talon until he had a corner of the sheet gripped securely. He brought it up gently, offering it to Fury as though it were a prize of great value. She sobbed all the harder.
An angry swoosh of air stirred in the room as Pilar took her place next to Gaspar. The hawks stared at the sobbing girl, then Gaspar moved, his wing tips gently wiping the tears from Fury’s cheeks. She broke down completely then, throwing herself deeper into the pillow. The startled birds looked at each other, their wings fanning the bed furiously. Pilar lifted her wings until she was satisfied with the draft she created and sailed straight up and out through the open doors, Gaspar in her wake.
Up they flew, into the dark night, high above the jungle trees, and out over open water, their wings flapping together as their jet eyes searched the vast expanse of dark water.
Two days later, as the sun prepared to dip beyond the horizon, Juli’s youngest brother arrived at the casa. He was overwrought, wild-eyed. “I saw . . . I couldn’t believe my eyes . . . I knew I’d just left your ship and my brothers, but there it was—the black ship sailing from the River of Death. I couldn’t see clearly, but the woman at the wheel . . . I swore she was you. I almost killed myself getting here. It was the woman posing as you, Capitana!” the young man said breathlessly.
Fury nodded. “How long ago?”
“A little past first light. It will take us three days to rendezvous with your ship if we leave now.”
“Juli, I . . .”
The housekeeper had a sudden vision of her brother returning to the casa with Fury’s dead, broken body. She threw her arms around Fury in a fierce hug. “You could encounter the impostor. I have every confidence in your ability, but . . . ”
“But what?” Fury asked quietly.
“If she wants the diamonds as badly as we think she does, she’ll do anything. Her men are seasoned cutthroats. My brothers are husbands, family men. They can defend themselves, but a fight to the death, if it comes to that ... They’re no match for such men.”
Fury nodded. “I’ve thought of that. I plan to discuss it with them once I board my ship, give them a chance to remain onshore without any loss of face. I’ll have Gaspar and Pilar with me.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Miss Fury, those evil-looking creatures have been absent for two days.”
“They often disappear for days at a time,” Fury said lightly.
“Since when?” Juli demanded. “They hover about here like bees at a honey pot. Even at night I hear them.”
“I’m not worried, Juli, and I don’t want you to worry. I’ll be back here before you know it, in plenty of time to . . . to do what I have to do. Now, fetch my things so we can be on our way.”
How young this boy was, she thought, and his wife about to give birth to their first child. She smiled at him, seeing the relief in his face at the knowledge he would be returning to his small cottage and his family.
Where were the hawks? Her stomach lurched at the thought of sailing completely alone, something she knew she couldn’t do. Everything was wrong; she could feel it in her bones. Every instinct in her warned against this voyage. Give it up, this is a foolhardy thing you’re doing. You can’t possibly overtake the impostor, do battle, and win . . . not singlehandedly. Oh, Gaspar, where are you?
“I hate it when you cry, Juli,” Fury said as she prepared to take her leave. “Only weak women cry; women who can’t take charge of their destinies. You of all people should know that. Now, when I return I expect to see that handsome houseboy of the von Klausners—what’s his name? Aldo?—on your arm proposing marriage. I promise to spend all my time thinking about a suitable wedding pres
ent,” she teased.
“You take care of her!” Juli growled to her brother as they rode away. “Don’t shame me. Tell the others what I’ve said, too!”
The moment Fury stepped aboard the Rana, her confidence returned. “All hands to the quarter deck,” she shouted, her eyes on the sky for some sign of the hawks. When her crew was assembled, she made her announcement. The brothers all looked at one another, shuffling their feet.
At last the oldest spoke. “Does the capitana think we aren’t capable men?” he asked brusquely.
“Not at all,” Fury replied. “I think you’re more than capable, and I’m proud to sail with you. It’s your families. . . . I don’t think I could live with myself if anything happened to you. Juli would never forgive me. There’s no telling how much of a fight this impostor will put up, and I’ve no idea whether I can best her. We might be evenly matched in a fight, but . . . what I mean is, I know you are capable men, but . . .”
The oldest of the brothers grimaced. “We’re with you, Capitana, and I don’t think you need concern yourself with our well-being. All of us have been to sea and can defend ourselves as well as one another.”
Fury looked from one to the other, warmed and gratified by the stout confidence, the allegiance, she saw shining in their eyes. At last she smiled and nodded. “All right, then. We sail a westerly course through the Sunda Strait to open water and then a northwest course. We have a stiff breeze now and can possibly make up some time.”
She brought the glass to her eye to scan the sky overhead. “Gaspar, where are you?” she murmured. She’d been watching for hours, the bright sun blinding her, but still she searched. She should never have allowed herself to become so attached to them. “Please God,” she prayed, “let them be safe; they belong to You, as do all creatures great and small. Keep them safe and return them to me this one last time. When I leave this worldly place to join You, I will give them up to You. Until that time . . .” She sobbed deep in her throat and ran below to her cabin, where she wept in private—great heart-wrenching sobs at her loss. “Be merciful,” she pleaded. “They aren’t wild birds any longer, they can’t fend for themselves. They need me,” she wept into her pillow. “And I need someone to need me, to want me, beside You.”
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