: Chapter 45
WILL CLEARED A PATCH OF DIRT BETWEEN THEM AND sketched with the point of his saxe.
“Here’s the cliff path, with the cave at the bottom of it—” he began.
“The cave is about ten meters from the path,” she corrected him and he glared at her. She shrugged. “You said for me to study every detail. That’s a detail.”
“Very well.” He amended his sketch. “Happy now?” She nodded. “Here’s the path. Here’s the cave. The tents are here.” He indicated their position.
“And the ship is here, down the beach.”
He glanced up at her. “Any corrections?” he asked, a little acidly.
She made a small disclaiming gesture with one hand. “No. That looks fine.”
“Now, the tide will start coming in about four hours after noon. It’ll be full by seven and then it’ll start to ebb. My guess is, the Iberians will want to go out on the ebbing tide when it’s full dark. That’ll be about an hour after high tide. They’ll still have enough water under their keel and the tide will take them out.”
“Why will they wait till dark?” Maddie asked.
“There are patrols. The Skandians station a ship on the east coast for the King’s use. She patrols these waters, keeping an eye out for smugglers, pirates . . . and slavers. The Iberians won’t want to run into her, so they’ll wait for dark. You noticed the ship is all black?”
She nodded.
“That’s because they prefer to travel by night. Now the cave is on the left-
hand side of the bay as you look out to sea. The ship is a little to the right of the middle of the beach. I plan to work my way down the cliffs on the right side of the beach, and get within a hundred meters of the ship—”
“What if there’s no way down?” she interrupted. He looked at her for a long moment, took a deep breath, then answered.
“There is. I reconnoitered and found one while you were snoozing. Now don’t interrupt.”
“You’ve always said I should have an inquiring mind,” she said.
“I have. But not an interrupting one. If you want to inquire, wait till I finish. Once I’m down the cliff, I’m going to start shooting fire arrows at the ship.”
“Fire arrows?” He glared at her again. “That wasn’t an inquiry. It was more a statement,” she said apologetically.
“I’ll let it pass. Yes, I’ll start shooting fire arrows. If there’s one thing puts the fear of the hereafter into a sailor, it’s fire on board. Ships are full of tarred rope and dried-out canvas and pinewood. They burn at the first hint of a flame.”
“So they’ll go running down the beach to their ship to put the fire out?”
Maddie asked
Will nodded. “And my guess is, Ruhl and his men will help them. If they lose that ship, all their work goes for nothing. Once they’re all bunched around the ship, I’ll pick off a few of Ruhl’s men. That’ll lessen the odds.”
“They’ll come after you as soon as you do that,” she said. There was a worried tone in her voice as she thought about him facing eighteen men on his own.
He shook his head dismissively. “That’s the idea. I’ll lead them away, heading back up the cliffs to the southwest. And they won’t come too fast.
Nothing slows a man down like the thought that he might be running into an arrow at any minute,” he added grimly.
“What do I do while all this is going on?” she asked.
He tapped the point of his saxe on the dirt map again, at the spot where the path was indicated.
“I want you at the bottom of the path before I start. Once they head down the beach to the ship, you have to let the kids out.” He paused and glanced at her appraisingly. “Do you know where the key is?”
She nodded. “It’s on a hook on one of the mess tent support posts.”
“Good girl. You get them out of the cave and lead them back up the path.
Then head north as fast as you can. With all the commotion at the ship, odds are nobody will notice you going.”
“And if they do?”
“Well, that’s where all that practice with your bow and your sling will come in handy. Don’t let them get close. They’re killers and they won’t give you a second chance. If they’re coming at you, don’t hesitate to shoot them.”
She thought about his plan for some moments. It seemed logical. It was simple enough, but Will had often told her that simple plans were the best.
There was less to go wrong.
“All right. And do we meet up again back here?” she asked finally.
But he shook his head. “You leg it north as fast as you can. I’ll take Ruhl and his men out to the southwest. Then I’ll shake them off and double back to join up with you.”
He sounded confident. But she knew it wouldn’t be as simple as he was making it out to be. He sensed her concern.
“If something goes wrong, head for Ambleton. It’s a large town on the highway, about fifteen kilometers up the coast. There’ll be a sheriff there and you should be safe. I’ll catch up with you eventually.”
She looked at him doubtfully. “Make sure you do.”
“Trust me,” he said. Then he added, “There’s another thing. Once I get a fire started on the ship, there’s a better than even chance that the Iberians won’t wait around. They may well launch her and take her out to sea. After all, if they lose her, they’re finished.”
“And it’ll be ten or eleven hours before the tide will let them back in,”
Maddie said.
“Exactly. So that will cut down the numbers we’re facing. Any questions?”
She looked at him. He was putting himself at enormous risk, she knew.
Her part in this was dangerous, but he was the one exposing himself to the enemy, in order to lead them away from her and the prisoners as she made their way north. But she couldn’t think of a way to express this to him, so she finally answered.
“No. It all seems clear.”
“Good. Well, we’ve got five hours before we need to start moving. Might as well get some rest.”
He settled back, his head pillowed on his saddle, arms crossed on his chest, and pulled his cowl over his face. Maddie’s stomach was churning
with the anticipation of the night to come. Her nerves were taut as a bowstring.
“How can you sleep at a time like this?” she asked, but the only answer was a low snore. She looked at him suspiciously. In the time she had been with him, she had never before heard him snore.
“You’re faking,” she said.
“No. I’m really fast asleep,” came his voice from under the cowl.
• • •
Will rested for several hours. As the shadows began to lengthen, he rose and stretched. Then he fetched the case that held his spare arrows and the saddlebag where he kept his equipment. He unlaced the top of the case, glanced inside, then brought out half a dozen arrows. Maddie moved closer to watch him. The arrows were all wrapped in an open-weave cloth just behind their broadheads.
“What are they?” she asked curiously. She hadn’t seen them before. He glanced up at her.
“Fire arrows,” he said. “It makes sense to always have a few prepared.
The cloth behind the broadhead changes the weight distribution. So when I make them, I rebalance them to make sure they fly the same as a normal arrow. I’ve also made them a little longer than my normal arrows so I can get a full draw. Obviously, once the tip is on fire, I can’t draw one of these all the way back to the bow.”
“Do you always carry some with you?” she asked.
He nodded. “It makes sense to have them if you need them. If I started making them up now, I’d be fiddling around getting the balance right.”
“It pays to be prepared,” she said thoughtfully.
“Exactly. You never know when you’re going to need something like this,” he said, holding up one of the arrows. He took a small wooden cylinder from his equipment bag and unscrewed the lid. The cylinder was really a wide-mouthed jar containing oil and he slid three of the arrows into the oil, then set the cylinder down carefully, leaving the oil to soak into the cloth-wrapped tips of the arrows. After several minutes, he withdrew them, inspected them to make sure they were completely saturated, then wrapped the tips in a piece of oilcloth to stop the flammable oil from evaporating. He placed the other arrows into the oil jar and repeated the process.
Maddie watched him, fascinated. Once again, the thought occurred to her that there was more to being a Ranger than shooting straight and moving silently.
“How are you going to light them?” she said. “If you start striking a flint and lighting a fire, they’ll spot you before you can get a shot away.”
“I’ll take a dark lantern,” Will said. He showed her a small metal lantern with a candle inside. There was a shutter at the front that opened and closed, alternately blocking or releasing the light from the flame.
She shook her head in admiration. “You’ve thought of everything,” she said. But Will looked up at her and shook his head solemnly.
“I doubt it,” he said. “No matter how thoroughly you plan, no matter how much you think you know, you’ve never thought of everything.”