Castro y Papas looked either like he was going to spit or crydamn, these Spaniards can get so intense! — but then said, “Very welclass="underline" I accept your terms, Senor Lefferts-and will happily toast your friend, whose name was-?”
“Eh…we’ll talk about that later. That’s a name to be shared in a safer place, okay?”
“Yes, this is acceptable. I must tell you, though, that the plan you speak of-the one which foiled you in Rome-was not of my design. I would not lay such a dishonorable trap, using a pregnant woman as bait.”
“So, who did plot that ambush then?”
Castro y Papas smiled. “Yet another name for a safer place, Senor Lefferts.”
“Harry.”
“My apologies. Senor Harry.”
Oh, fer chrissakes… “Yeah, fine; I can live with ‘Senor Harry.’” They nodded at each other, and Harry had the feeling that something had changed, separately, in both him and in Castro y Papas. He had no guess what that something might have been for the Spaniard, and truth be told, didn’t have a much better guess of what change had begun in himself, but it felt vaguely like a resolution of some kind, of a mistake owned, a debt paid, a new door opened. Harry shrugged and put the incipient revelation on the same shelf where he had left almost all the others he had experienced since he had been about seven-but this time, he resolved to take it down and study it as soon as he got to a safe place. Which kindled a small, unusual flame of quiet pride somewhere in his chest. He smiled, liking the sensation, and looked out to sea.
— Where he saw, at the same instant Castro y Papas did, two specks on the far southern horizon: the away-boats from the Atropos.
Harry dug an elbow into the hidalgo’s ribs gently. “Hey, lookit who’s early for a change. C’mon, Don Vincente; let’s tell the others our ride is here.”
Thomas North watched as the other ships of the flotilla headed away and were swallowed by the dark. And he smiled. Try to catch us now, you Spanish bastards.
When the black llaut carrying his troops had cleared Palma Bay and reached the rendezvous point, she had blinked a signal lamp into the darkness. A quick flash responded, marking the precise position of the Guerra Cagna, which then relayed another signal to the west: far off, a light had winked back. That was the Atropos, confirming she had received the signal that announced both the safe return of North’s team at the rendezvous point and that the dispersal of the smaller ships would commence as soon as his men were on the Guerra Cagna.
That transfer was a quick affair. Although there were no Spanish in sight, and they were moving at night, the little flotilla was still in sight of the shore and lighthouses (which was what had made a nighttime sea rendezvous possible in the first place). Consequently, they were not too far away from where the Spanish would begin their pursuit. The flotilla’s object was now to split up and give their pursuers the same problem that the enemy had given Lefferts and North in Rome with multiple carriages: the need to chase a number of tantalizing leads simultaneously, thereby diffusing their search resources.
North’s smile widened. Your turn to play “find the pea,” you bastards. He looked back at his men, crowded on the deck of the Guerra Cagna. Some of them would later be tasked to tend to the oars if the pursuit got close, although they had also taken on the up-time motor from the black llaut. That local ship, along with the Bogeria, was heading due east and would not be part of the shell-game the rest were preparing for the Spanish. Instead, both ships would be swapped at a modest loss for equivalent hulls-probably on the northernmost Balearic island of Minorca-thereby removing these local boats from the area in which inquiries might be made, and hulls identified.
The other four ships now turned to follow their preassigned compass headings. The Guerra Cagna was to head southeast. Although a swift ship, she was carrying the heaviest load and was the largest, and so needed to veer in a direction that also gave her a head start to her actual destination.
Aurelio’s Minnow — currently under the command of one of his seemingly innumerable relatives-would head due south, aiming her pert, responsive prow at Algeria. And the Zora would head southwest, directly opposite the course her master most wanted to go, but the crew of the little gajeta was eager for the bonus connected with the job, and this was their final obligation. Although the Zora ’s crew would not be paid until they returned to Venice, they would leave the Rialto with enough money to support their families for half a year-more, if they were frugal.
North felt the Guerra Cagna come around to take the freshening southwest wind over her beam. That maneuver-positioning a ship sideways in relation to the wind-was still a novel experience for him. Having grown up around square-rigged vessels, for the most part, he remained surprised-and rather enchanted-by the almost mystical versatility of the lateen rig. Although inferior at getting speed from a following wind, they excelled at using a wind from over their waists. But they made reasonable headway with breezes coming from almost any quarter, able to sail so close to the wind that they could still make progress by tacking back and forth across a head wind.
This aspect of the lateen sail aided all the ships, now. For the Guerra Cagna it meant a maximally effective wind was already running into her two sails. North could already feel her speed picking up, and suspected that her master was going to need to slow her down so as not to overshoot their new loiter point, some ten miles southeast.
For the Minnow, her close-hauled heading meant less speed, but being light, she needed less wind; she’d still make the ten miles to her own new loiter point comfortably. And even thought the Dawn was sailing straight into the wind, the skilled crew of that hull was doubtlessly tacking to-and-fro to make decent progress. If she didn’t make enough headway, no matter. She could take a more westerly heading for a while, and in bringing her prow out of the wind, she would make better speed to her own new loiter point.
North looked east; no glimmers on the horizon, yet. Good, he thought, we’ll make it to the new loiter points just in time to give the Spanish something new to chase. Why hunt down enemy ships alone, when you can hunt both a ship and an enemy balloon together? Yes, each Spanish pursuit boat-too separated from its mates to signal effectively-would certainly press on alone if they believed themselves poised to also capture the mysterious airship that had attacked the Castell de Bellver. And that is exactly what Lefferts’ and Miro’s escape plan would lead them to believe.
North’s smile became unpleasant. “Happy hunting, you bastards,” he muttered toward the distant lights of Palma.
From the stern of the Atropos, and with the Llebeig running in from the southwest, Miro watched the mizzen’s lateen fill nicely. The Atropos herself had left Dragonera behind shortly before dawn, heading due north, almost out of the sight of the coast, and taking good, but not best, advantage of the Llebeig. With the yard mounted on the same side as the wind from that angle, the lateen was unable to work to optimum effect on that leg of their journey.
But that brief sacrifice was worth it, for ultimately, Aurelio brought the Atropos over hard-a-starboard and into a due east heading. From this angle, the Llebeig came full into the lateen, the yard being on what was now the leeward side of the mast. The xebec seemed like a suddenly spurred horse, leaping through the swells with speed that, according to the up-timers, they associated with powered boats or racing yachts.
That speed had been central to the overall escape plan: if the Spanish had not found the Atropos by the time it left Dragonera, it was very unlikely they ever would. Heading away from shore also meant heading directly away from potential pursuit. And now, with the wind at the most optimal position for the xebec’s rig, there was quite probably not a single ship in the Balearics that could overtake them. This was one of the two reasons Miro had been willing to take the risks necessary to seize the xebec in the first place: it not only had a large enough stern to support balloon operations, but it was also the fastest get-away ship in the Mediterranean.