“Three hundred yards,” Gabriel confirmed. “It means we can use the height of the castle to our advantage. We can rig a pulley system and fly the ladies well beyond the castle perimeter.”
Gabriel reached for the fabric map and traced a finger along the line that indicated the bailey.
“As you can see, the curtain wall only faces the sound toward Landing Bay,” he said. “To the north and the west, the wall of the keep itself is its only defense. We don’t go down, where it will be more heavily defended.”
Gabriel paused. “We take the women up.”
“Surely you don’t mean to make Mother and the maids descend to the ground on their own?” asked Walter.
“Not exactly. Each of us in turn,” Gabriel nodded to his brothers, “will accompany at least one lady down.”
Raphael reached for a slate and started drawing with chalk.
“Three hundred yards of one-inch rope is nearly three hundred pounds in weight,” he said. “The cliffs surrounding the island is one hundred yards high in some places, and we’ll need timber to build an A-frame at the end of the line. That’s one hell of a weight we’ll have to haul.”
He presented a sketch of a diagram and showed it to de Wolfe and his sons.
The lord nodded thoughtfully. “Don’t concern yourselves about hauling the weight. This is a good plan. I’ll have enough men there to do the labor. My concern is about timing this right. Every minute on the island leaves us open to risk of discovery. I want to be away while there is still the cover of darkness.”
“Then the new moon is twelve days from now,” said Gabriel. “It’s our best shot.”
“You’ll need to take a pulley and a trapeze along with the same amount of rope to control the descent. That’s going to slow you down,” said Walter.
“An additional thirty pounds of rope if we go for the one-third of an inch in diameter,” said Michael. “It can be done but it could take us all night even if the ladies are willing and aren’t afraid of heights.”
“They will be willing,” de Wolfe averred. “But make it happen in three hours instead.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Gabriel shivered against the chill. He’d left his heavy cloak aboard de Wolfe’s ship anchored off shore. He could not afford the weight of it and, besides, there would soon be action enough to get the heart pumping.
The open sea crossing from the mainland to the island of Lundy was smooth, but it was cold and fog was beginning to settle.
De Wolfe promised men for this mission and the nobleman was as good as his word. Twenty men in three lighters, roped stem and stern, to make sure they all stayed together, rowed from de Wolfe’s anchored ship to the western side of the island.
The first boat in which the brothers sat had a single pilot lamp on its bow to lead the way.
All three were dressed alike – head-to-toe in black. Even their heads and lower halves of their faces were covered by cloth. Cheeks and foreheads were smeared with grease and soot to reduce anything which may catch the light and give them away.
The fog may hurt their cause as much as help it. No one underestimated danger. The passage across to the island was made in total silence.
After ten minutes, the shallow draft vessel grounded itself on the rocks.
Gabriel adjusted the weight of the rope so it sat snugly over his shoulder and under his arms so it did not impede his mobility too much.
With him in the lead boat were de Wolfe’s two sons who insisted being at the spearhead.
Gabriel had tried to dissuade them but, in the end, he was overruled by de Wolfe himself. Against his better judgement, Gabriel had relented, telling the two young men they would receive no extra assistance from him and, if they fell behind, then it would be their father they answered to – if they lived. The warning only served to harden their resolves.
Ignoring the sounds of the other two boats landing behind him, Gabriel looked up at the cliff face and started up. What meager light the night chose to give, he used to pick his next handhold. He almost lost his footing when an unnerving tok-tok-tok sounded at his ear.
He turned and came face to face with a squat puffin roosting in a niche in the cliff. It stared at him and snapped its large, rounded beak open and closed rapidly, the tok-tok-tok soon multiplied by hundreds more birds as more climbers ascended.
Gabriel ignored the bird and hoped it would show him the same courtesy.
By the time he’d reached the top, Gabriel had forgotten his chill. He wiped sweat from his brow and hunkered down to wait for the others. The castle was three hundred yards ahead, drifting light fog occasionally obscuring the view.
A couple of moments later, he heard the others crawl their way to his position.
He turned until he could see Walter de Wolfe.
“Can you find the ladies’ chamber with that glass of yours?” Gabriel asked.
“Also see if you spot any patrols either on the ramparts or on the grounds,” added Raphael. “I’d hate to be thwarted at the first hurdle.”
The young man concentrated on his task as Gabriel followed the line of the curtain wall, looking for the best place to get some kind of toehold.
They’d been practicing scaling walls with a grappling hook for the past week. They would need all their skill now.
“I’ve found her!” young de Wolfe exclaimed softly. “The left corner window. I can see a female silhouette in the window. They’re watching out for us.”
Gabriel tapped the lad’s arm and motioned for the spyglass. He found the window for himself but trained the glass up another twelve feet to the top of the turret and mentally calculated the length of line and the angle required for their rescue line. That would bring them another hundred yards closer to the castle.
He lowered the glass and followed the length of the castle wall until it rounded the south-facing corner.
Now there’s a bit of luck. The walls were not as tall as they first feared. Gabriel estimated them to be twenty feet high instead of the more typical thirty feet in height. Whoever the original builders of Marisco Castle were, they counted on the steep cliffs of Lundy itself for its primary defense. Indeed, all of the fortification played its attention on Landing Bay, the only beach on the whole island.
That would have been a logical place to mount a campaign – and that’s why they avoided it now.
He handed the glass back to Walter.
“Watch for us at the top of the tower. As soon as we’ve dropped the narrower line, get that thicker rope tied as quick as possible and get away as fast as you can.”
Walter nodded once, the set of his jaw grim. If the lad wasn’t careful, he’d pass out from holding his breath. Gabriel nudged him, shoulder to shoulder, and grinned.
“I’m not sure who I’m most afeared of, the Turk or your father, should something happen to you or your brother.”
It was enough to break the tension, Walter gave him an answering grin in return. On his other side, Raphael raised his head.
“Ready?” he asked. Over his shoulder, Michael’s blackened face also appeared.
Gabriel levered himself up on to his haunches. With one glance behind to see that de Wolfe now joined them, he nodded and took off at a zig-zagging run to his right, toward the castle walls.
The whispered doubts were shoved to the back of his mind – along with thoughts of Cassie. Gabriel locked the door on them. There was no room for those thoughts right now. The only thing to occupy his attention was reaching the wall without being spotted. Gabriel decided on his destination, a large tussock of grass by which they could hide.
He skidded to a halt in the dewy grass and panted hard, his breath visible in the eddies of mist swirling about them. In a few hours’ time, the mist which helped conceal them would turn to fog which would hinder them.
“We can do this,” said Michael. “We’ve done that height before without a grapple.”
“Shall we go without it?” said Raphael “We haven’t seen a patrol yet and
I rather we didn’t tip them off with any kind of sound.”
“Agreed,” said Gabriel. “I’ll be the first up. If I encounter an enemy in numbers you both scatter and warn de Wolfe.”
Their soot-blackened faces meant only their eyes were visible and what he saw there gave him courage. Gabriel held out an arm, fist closed. Raphael did the same, placing it on Gabriel’s fist. Michael placed his on top.
“Hardacres together,” Gabriel said softly.
“Hardacres together,” came the reply.
Just as they had done many a-time before, they readied themselves for the three-man stack.
Raphael positioned himself at the wall, facing away from the stone. Michael stood before him face-to-face. They held each other’s arms. Michael jumped and twisted, placing his feet on his brother’s shoulders. Both men looked to Gabriel.
Conscious of the weight of the rope around his shoulder, Gabriel prepared his run.
Raphael bent his knees. Michael crouched and cupped his hands in readiness. Gabriel jumped. Despite the dark and the fog, the execution was flawless. Gabriel felt his booted foot hit Michael’s hands and the surge of power from the three men combined, launched him skyward.
Gabriel’s hands gripped the crenelated wall. He levered himself up onto his arms and looked along the rampart. It was deserted.
He removed the rope he wore, dropping a length of it over the wall. Gabriel braced himself while his brothers made the ascent.
They hunkered down in the dark.
“Are we safe here?” whispered Raphael.
“I’ve seen no guard,” Gabriel confirmed, although that didn’t stop him from touching a hand to the hilt of the knife in his belt. “I can only pray this damp night keeps them indoors.”
“I’d rather not hang around here to find out whether you’re right. The sooner we’re on top of the turret the better I’ll feel,” said Raphael.
Gabriel nodded. “Take extra care with your footing. The fog is making things slick.”
From their protected position, they looked along the rampart at their next challenge, the tower itself. It was another twenty feet off the ground to reach the turret.
At the base of the tower was an arched doorway through which the guard could leave the warmth of the hearth at any time and discover them.
That wasn’t the only challenge. The turret rested over corbeling, making it stand proud of the tower itself. Any misstep in reaching for the base of the crenellations would have them plummeting to their death. Or worse, into the arms of their enemy.
“How do you want to tackle this?” Michael asked.
“We go one by one,” Gabriel replied.
“I volunteer to be the first,” said Raphael.
Gabriel nodded his agreement. Raphael was an excellent climber. He seemed to have a knack for finding finger and toeholds on walls that appeared impossible to climb. He and Michael would watch and follow in his steps. It would take longer than he’d like but it was safer.
Raphael ran at full speed toward the entrance, pushing off the defensive wall to launch himself over the arched doorway. His arms and leg spread out against the stone like a spider.
And he did not move.
“Something’s wrong,” said Michael.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Something’s wrong.
Michael edged forward, but Gabriel stayed his hand.
“Give him another moment.”
Raphael reached up and seemed to find a handhold out of nowhere. He pushed up and began his climb.
Gabriel released a breath. As Raphael climbed higher, his figure became lost in the mist. He slapped Michael on the shoulder.
“You saw how he made that first reach. Go! Before we both lose sight of him!”
Michael took off at a sprint. The fog was closing in much faster than he had counted on. The darkened silhouette that marked the frame of the door was beginning to disappear in the damp and swirling breeze.
Gabriel counted to ten and raced after his brother. He arrived just in time to see Michael’s foot clear the archway.
Then he heard it. The sound of marching feet. The fog deadened the sound all around them, making it impossible to tell the direction.
The door to the ramparts opened just as he launched himself, throwing Gabriel off his leap. It was nowhere near high enough. He kicked the door closed and fell into a dead hang, dangling over the archway with no purchase for his feet.
He dropped to the ground and rolled into the corner shadows as the door opened again.
Two guards emerged. They sounded like they were arguing or, at the very least, one was very insistent but Gabriel didn’t understand the language. The man went back and checked the door again. Gabriel lowered his face between his knees to make himself smaller again.
“Het was niets. Het was de wind,” his companion said.
The two men left the door and continued their patrol along the rampart. Gabriel waited until the sound of their booted feet softened before he rose from his position. Here, he could peer over the edge of a small guard wall just waist height and look down into the bailey.
Here and there, braziers created spots of light and, around them, men gathered and spoke among themselves.
It was far too risky to take another run up.
Hell! What was he going to do now?
He had no choice.
Gabriel backed up as far as he dared and sprinted for the door. Just as Raphael had done, he pushed up off a merlon. One foot missed the mark. He could hear the guards returning and he was not yet clear of the archway. Gabriel scrambled some more before finding his purchase and hastily climbed another foot of the tower wall before he paused for breath.
The guard once again was insistent.
“Ik hoorde iets. Heb je hier dat?”
His companion laughed.
“Hallo? Hallo?” the sound was different. One of them had cupped his hands in a mock call. Gabriel certainly didn’t intend to answer.
“Zie, er is niemand hier.” Gabriel heard the sound of a back being slapped. “Laten we binnen te komen, het is koud.”
Gabriel felt the cramp in his fingers from his tentative grip.
Come on! Get inside, God damn you. I can’t hold on much longer.
He squeezed his eyes shut and the fears he had locked away began seeping under the doors of his mind.
Cassie! To come so far and fail you now!
He bit the inside of his cheek, the pain blossoming in his mouth, a new pain to distract him from the one in his cramped fingers and toes.
Now what was worse was he felt a tickle at the back of his neck. Gabriel shook his head. It was still there. He opened his eyes and looked up to see a rope dangling before him.
He grasped at it gratefully. Gabriel found his footing, braced his feet against the wall and made the climb.
He got as far as the corbelling and took a quick glance down. The ramparts below had completely disappeared in fog.
Above him, he saw the two worried faces of his brothers.
“We thought it was all over when I didn’t see you behind me,” said Michael.
“It very nearly was!”
“Can you make it over the top here?” Raphael asked.
Gabriel nodded.
He swung and pulled his body up and around the rope until he hung upside down. He felt the solid stone at his hip and, with the help of his brothers, hauled himself on the turret.
His arms and legs shook as a result of his close call. Gabriel forced himself up to his feet and made his way to the parapet without letting too much of his shock show.
“Come on, let’s get this line down,” he bit out. “We haven’t got half the job done yet.”
“Gabriel, I’m concerned about getting the women out,” said Michael. “I took a look at the window opening. It would be a squeeze for anyone larger than a child. Then there’s the matter of bringing them up to the roof safely.”
Gabriel nodded his agreement. Getting to the roof was more
difficult than he imagined – the idea of bringing four unpracticed women on such a treacherous climb didn’t sit well with him either.
“Their chamber should be just below here. There has to be an internal staircase or ladder up to the tower,” said Raphael. “We could be out of here a lot quicker if two of us could concentrate on getting the rope line set up while the third found the ladies and brought them here.”
“And if we’re caught up here, then it’s all our heads,” said Gabriel. “Is that a risk you want to take with four women?”
Raphael looked at him implacably. So, too, did Michael. The youngest brother occasionally had a habit of second guessing himself, but not tonight.
“I agree,” he said. “It’s definitely worth the risk. Let’s see if this trapdoor opens.”
Gabriel bent down and pulled at a recessed iron ring. The door lifted on hinges. He peered into the darkness below before looking up and addressing his brothers.
“Get everything set up. If the worst happens, you two get out of here without hesitation, do you understand me?”
His two brothers nodded and immediately set upon their task. Gabriel trusted that the calculations he and de Wolfe made were accurate and that the end frame for their rescue line was close enough to account for the degree of angle.
With a quick breath to steady his nerves, Gabriel dropped to a dead hang. A swirl of mist dropped into the room below. He hadn’t considered how much warmer it was inside the castle.
The floor below him was still shrouded in darkness but he figured that was no more than a twelve feet drop. He swung his legs about searching for a ladder or any other objects that would give him a clue as to what to expect. There was nothing.
Gabriel muttered a quick prayer and let go. His feet landed on solid stone, stirring up dust which nearly made him choke. Eventually, his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. Around the edge of the tower room were chests, crates, barrels and boxes. Janszoon was treating this as a storeroom and, judging by the coating of dust, no one came up here often.
And then he encountered another small miracle – a ladder against the wall.
The de Wolfe of Wharf Street Page 13