Thomas felt his stomach clench, but did what he had to do: he gave two short blasts on the whistle. The four Hibernians with him in the Minnow lifted their weapons and shot the pirates down where they stood.
As the Minnow and the skiff converged on the llaut, no amount of rationalizing managed to untie the knot of guilt that was constricting North’s stomach. He looked at Lefferts, whose face was not quite entirely impassive.
“We had no choice,” said the up-timer quietly. “We knew it would probably come to this.”
“Damned if that makes in any easier,” commented North.
Harry nodded and watched the first of the Venetian sailors leap across the gap between the Minnow and the pirate llaut, carrying lines to make them fast together.
North cleared his throat. “Aurelio,” he said, “go on board and tell me how fast you can get her crewed and ready to move. Owen?”
“Here.”
“Any casualties?”
“Nary a hit, not even to the skiff itself. Shall we board the corsair and take inventory?”
“Stop reading my mind. By the way, how much food did you leave behind in the cave?”
“Dinner for twenty, maybe.”
“Not worth the risk going back for it. Anything else?”
“No; every bit of gear-ours and theirs-is crowded into this wee boat.”
“Transfer it all to the llaut, then put the skiff in tow.”
“As you say, Lord Sassenach. And the bodies? What to do with them?”
Thomas glanced at Harry, who met his gaze and nodded. Thomas stood straight and called over to Owen, “Consign them to the deep.”
Two nights later, Miro arrived at the Caves of Arta, found the skiff waiting for him, and made what was now a long journey over the horizon to the re-gathered flotilla. As the little boat finally approached the lightless Atropos, he grinned up at Harry Lefferts, who was awaiting him on poop deck. “Permission to come aboard?”
“Hell,” drawled Harry, “near as I can figure it, you own this ship.”
“Why, I suppose I might. But no: it’s more proper to consider all the prize hulls common property for now, at least until we can work out the shares later on.”
“You sound way too familiar with the conventions of this piracy business, Estuban. You sure you’ve told me everything about your past?”
“Never ask a question if you’d rather not know the answer.”
“Huh. Figured. So: now what?”
North had strolled over with O’Neill and, seeing them approach Harry, Miro lost his train of thought for a second; they were truly, and naturally, comrades now. In his absence, these three very different men had finished forging the bonds that made them a team, a group of soldiers who worked well together, and even liked each other.
“Estuban? You okay?”
“Yes, Harry, just a little distracted. Tired from the journey, I expect. The rowers in the skiff briefed me on the way out, but some of the news seemed to good to believe. Did you really take the corsair without any losses?”
“Seems so,” said Harry, who rummaged about in a deck locker and produced a bottle of wine and a fistful of small pewter mugs.
Miro looked down. “A victory drink? Isn’t that a bit presumptive?”
“I think of it merely as a ‘Hey! We’re not dead yet!’ drink,” replied Harry.
Miro smiled. “Yes. We have been lucky. For a change.”
“Let’s hope that luck holds a little longer-long enough to grab Frank and Gia.” Harry gulped at his wine. “So spill, Estuban: are the Stones where you thought they’d be?”
“Yes, in the Castell de Bellver. And we’ll have all the help and supplies we need to get them out.”
“And do you have a plan finalized yet?” Thomas sounded doubtful,
“I have a plan; you will all help me polish the details. And we’ll need to do it tonight, in my cabin.”
“Why so soon? And why inside?” asked Owen.
“It must be tonight because some of you will be heading directly to a safe house in Palma by tomorrow evening.”
“Oh, and who would that be?”
“Well, actually…you, Owen. You and one of your men will be the first to go.”
“Me and-?”
“Yes. Then you, Thomas; you’ll head in a few days before the rescue operation is set to begin.”
“And may I ask why I must be shipped into Palma?”
“So that you can lead the troops into Bellver.”
“Wonderful. And how am I supposed to do that? By knocking on the portcullis and asking politely to enter?”
Miro smiled. “We’ll worry about the specifics when we’re done with the wine-and where none of the men can hear us talking.”
Harry looked around at the black seas and up at the silver stars. “Huh. Doesn’t look like a promising neighborhood for enemy informers, Estuban.”
“It’s not. But we’ll be coming close to shore soon; I trust our men, but I don’t know all of them well enough to be sure that, if they had a detailed plan to sell to our enemies, one of them wouldn’t succumb to the allure of forty pieces of silver-or much more. And with all the pre-positioning, supply pickup, and transport that we’re going to be coordinating over the next two weeks, they’d have plenty of opportunity to betray our plans to the enemy. So except for those groups who will train for the operation in separation from the others, we will not be sharing the details of the rescue with our men.”
“So you do have the basics of a rescue plan,” persisted North. “Does this mean you have also settled on a plan of escape?”
“I’m a little less certain about that part of the operation,” confessed Miro. “It can be done of course, but-” Miro glanced around at the faint, moonlit masts of their small flotilla “-but it is difficult to see how we will get so many ships safely away, without any falling into Spanish hands.”
Harry finished pouring out another round of wine. “Piece of cake. Do to them what they did to us in Rome.”
Miro frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, they had lots of vehicles too-carriages, there-but they still had us running a four-way wild goose chase while playing ‘find the pea.’”
Miro realized he was the only one not drinking, but didn’t care; Harry had shown him the answer, the way they could escape. In fact, if Miro’s rapidly evolving calculations were correct, they’d not only be able to get out all the ships and their crews, but also “Estuban,” Owen Roe seemed to say from a great distance, “what’s wrong? Why the lunatic smile?”
“Oh, nothing. Just enjoying the genius of Harry’s plan.”
Lefferts had a sour expression on his face. “Just don’t forget how my last plan ended up. Genius, my ass. If I was a genius I wouldn’t have gotten so many people killed.”
Miro shook his head. “ You didn’t get anyone killed, Harry. That was the work of a clever, deceptive, and well-prepared enemy, not you. This time, it shall be you-and the rest of us-who outwit them. And even if you insist you are not a genius-well, your escape plan most certainly is.” Miro patted him on the shoulder. “It is genius. Pure genius.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Pedro Dolor looked from Captain Vincente Jose-Maria de Castro y Papas at one end of the table to Castle Governor Don Sancho Jaume Morales y Llaguno at the other. “You asked me to delay my return to Palma, Governor. Here I am, as you requested. Now: why did you ask me to sit in on this meeting?”
“To rein in your factotum, Senor Dolor.” Don Sancho glowered at the captain.
Dolor sighed. “What now, Governor?”
“Ask him yourself.”
“I am asking you, Governor, since, on the four prior occasions you asked me to intervene with the captain, the only ‘fault’ I could find was that he issued lawful orders that offended your inflated sense of self-importance. So you will answer my question and, in so doing, justify why I have been detained. Again.”
The governor became quite red, but complied. “He has a Jew waiting outside the gate of my castle. A foul old Jew who has not reconciled to the Church. He does not eat pork, he-”