Page 42 of The Swan Syndicate #1
The Grey Ghost was easy to spot. The crew were furling the sails in preparation for departure. He hated that he’d had Stella pulled out before she could gather more information. But it had been too dangerous, and if it had been any of the men, he would have had them pulled out as well.
The last thing they needed was to come between MacDuff and Cheval. It was too early in the mission for that. The two men might be working together, but was it a congenial partnership or one out of necessity? Or did they share other business more risky than smuggling?
He watched for several minutes, and when the crew began releasing the mooring lines, he had what he needed.
After looking to his left and right, ensuring he didn’t spot anyone following him, he made his way back to the Daphne .
He was whistling as he boarded the ship.
Fitz had been watching Cheval’s ship, which was docked on the other end of the pier.
Even in the shadows, Beckworth had seen the masts and knew The Horseman was still in port.
He was eager to see Stella. His first thoughts were how to apologize. It was time for a long-overdue discussion. Did she understand his concerns? She always had before, but she’d been so mad at him. And his walking away like a coward wouldn’t have eased her temper.
The crew was busy, and while the sails remained tied down, he recognized the early signs of readiness to sail. With Cheval in port, he couldn’t blame Jamie for not wanting to stay. He ran down the stairs and strode directly to their cabin.
It was empty.
Everyone must still be with Jamie. No one had been in the galley, so he went to Jamie’s office. The door was open, and the only person there was the captain.
“Where’s Stella?” he asked after tapping lightly on the doorframe.
Jamie was writing a letter, and Beckworth assumed it was for Thomas to take back to Hensley. Although the Daphne would be returning to Bristol soon, Jamie liked to keep the spymaster informed.
After another few scratches, Jamie set the quill aside and closed the inkpot. “She received a personal note from MacDuff asking for another meeting.” He must have caught Beckworth’s concern because he stood.
“The Grey Ghost slipped its mooring lines. They’re departing.”
Jamie pulled on his jacket then picked up his pistol and sword. “I sent four men with her.”
They jogged up the stairs and across the deck to the gangplank. Jamie stopped long enough to give an order.
“Prepare for sail. Send a couple of men to round up anyone still in town.”
Once they were on the pier, Beckworth asked, “When was the note delivered?”
“About thirty minutes ago. He asked to meet at a pub on the far end of town towards where the Grey Ghost was docked.”
They raced that way, and when they reached it, Jamie stopped him from going in. “Let me check.”
Beckworth knew it was for nothing. Not one of the men was there, and at least one of them would have remained outside.
Jamie was back in less than a minute. “They’re not here.”
They hadn’t seen anyone on their rush to the pub. Beckworth glanced at the people roaming the docks. Nothing. He went to kick a nearby post when he spotted the paper swan. He picked it up, and Jamie stepped next to him.
“Look for another one,” Beckworth said.
Jamie went one way, Beckworth the other.
“Here.” Jamie picked up another swan. They continued in that direction, watching the ground until they reached an alley where another swan had been dropped. They turned down it and didn’t have to go far before spotting four bodies lying on the dark street.
They were the men sent to guard Stella. Beckworth blew out a breath of relief to find them alive with no apparent injury other than bumps on their heads. They roused the men, who were groggy and slow to come around.
“Where’s Stella?” Beckworth yelled at Lando, who was the first one to come to his senses.
“I don’t know. There were at least twenty of them waiting at the pub.”
“Stella was screaming for them to stop.” Thomas raised up on an elbow, rubbed his head, then his stomach. “Promised to go with them if they’d leave us alive.”
Lando used a stack of nearby crates to help him stand and wobbled before getting his legs under him.
“She saved us. I think they would have killed us, but the leader, whoever it was, stopped his men who were wailing on us, but not before slamming us in the head.” He glanced at Beckworth.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know which way they went. ”
Beckworth circled the area but didn’t find any more swans. Stella most likely had her hands bound or arms held so she couldn’t drop any others. He refused to think of any other reason.
“I have a pretty good idea who took her.” Beckworth helped Lane up. “We need to get back to the ship.”
“Michelson’s wound is bad,” Jamie said. “He’ll need help.” He took an arm and began lifting the unconscious man. Beckworth grabbed the other arm, and they dragged Michelson toward the ship.
Halfway there, Lando, his equilibrium restored, took Michelson from Jamie. “Prepare the ship. We’re right behind you.”
Jamie ran, but they couldn’t move any faster than Lane and Thomas, who still struggled but were moving on their own two feet.
When Beckworth reached the ship, he found Fitz waiting for them.
“Cheval has Stella.”
“You’re sure.” His worst nightmare was coming alive, and he was helpless to do anything.
Fitz nodded. “I saw her walk up the gangplank surrounded by over a dozen men. The ship was ready to sail. They left about fifteen minutes ago.”
“How long before we can follow?”
“We still have men in port. Jamie sent men to round them up, but it will take another half hour to get the ship underway.”
“Do you know which way they went?”
Fitz nodded. “I think they’re heading south. I have someone in the nest watching. I gave them your glasses. I hope you don’t mind.”
Beckworth slapped him on the back. “Good man.”
Jamie strode over, his forehead crinkled as he took in Michelson. “Get him below.” The stomping of running boots made them turn. Sailors returning. “Get a head count. Thomas, I have a message for Hensley.”
“You sure you won’t need me?” Thomas was still rubbing his head.
“We need to send him what information we have. And we’re not waiting for the men. I’ll need you to gather up anyone who gets left behind. Get them to Bristol. We leave as soon as the sails are raised.”
He strode off, shouting commands while Fitz remained to determine who was on the ship and who was still on shore.
Beckworth shook Thomas’s hand. “We’ll try to make the party. Safe travels, mate.” He headed for the galley to check on Michelson. Anything to get his mind off Stella.
“Beckworth,” Jamie called. “I could use you on the forward deck to help with the lines.”
He’d only taken a few steps in the new direction when Jamie called out again.
“Beckworth. Do you mind taking the nest instead? We need to keep an eye on their sails, but I don’t want them knowing we’re behind them.”
Beckworth glanced up at the nest. It made sense.
By using his binoculars, they had an advantage in sighting ships over the single glass scopes.
He began his climb. It would have been easier to work the lines, forcing his mind to stay focused while listening for orders from Jamie or Fitz.
In the nest, he’d be alone with his binoculars and his thoughts.
He knew this mission would go bad. But why would Cheval want Stella? How did he even know about her?
He hadn’t heard Lando approach and startled when the big man laid a hand on his shoulder.
“You need to remain focused on the mission. This is no time for mistakes.”
He nodded, unable to find the proper words for a response. Then he climbed, allowing each breath of sea air to soothe him and clear his head. When he reached the nest, he tapped the sailor. He thought the lad’s name was Stephen.
Stephen jumped and turned, surprised to see Beckworth. “My shift just started.”
“Captain’s orders. I’ll take the glasses. You’re needed on the lines.”
Stephen handed him the glasses as soon as he climbed in.
“The ship is straight ahead. Based on the set of the sails, they appear to be turning to their port side, but they need to get beyond the rocks on the point. They might continue straight for Ireland, but word on the ship is that they’ll sail along the coast and disappear into a cove. ”
“Understood. Thanks, mate.” Beckworth waited for the lad to start his descent then brought the glasses up to find his mark. Sure enough. The ship was set to change course.
Hold on, Stella. We’re coming for you.