Home From The Sea (25 page)

“Or are you going to take a look at the taproom, the kitchen, the stable, the coach house.” Toby pushed away from the wall. “Sweet Christ, Nathaniel, I don’t want to die under torture – and I will, because you’re trying to torture words out of me that I just don’t have to give. I can’t tell you what I don’t know, no matter what you do to me.”

Every word was painfully true, and Burke could see it as clearly as could Jim. Pledge was vengeful out of frustration and spite, but Burke’s clearer mind was already working, churning on schemes and plans. “Aye, all right, lad.” He slung an arm over Toby’s shoulders. “
I’s
not sayin’ I don’t believe you. Like as not, we’ll find the prize buried under one of the old privy sites! That’d be old Charlie’s
amusement, that
would. Soon as the waters go down, you’ll be
diggin
’ ’em up. Master
Fairley’ll
tell us where they
be
. You’ll
stink
fit to frighten off a herd of swine, but you’ll walk away, and with your skin intact, if you’re a good lad.”

At the last remark, Toby sucked in a breath. “Nathaniel, it’s been a long time.”

“And you’re nowhere near as pretty as you were, years ago,” Burke agreed, “but you’re still pretty
enough
, and you still wear my mark, and the only woman in this house is Fairley’s old witch of a grandmother. Aye, you’ll do.”

Toby looked away.
“Tonight, then.”

“For old times.”
Burke tousled his hair.
“And to
remind
you whose mark you wear, so tomorrow you’ll go on
bein
’ a good lad.”

Jim’s mouth was dry as dust as he watched Toby nod, tight lipped, pale. “All right,” Toby said tautly.
“But not
him
.
Not Joe. I’ve done nothing to make you give me to Joe Pledge.”

“Nothin’ at all,” Burke agreed.
“All the more reason to be good.”
He grinned brashly at Jim. “Does it shock you, Master Fairley? A whole company of filthy sinners under your roof, and one of ’em a priest.”

“I’m not shocked at all.” Jim heard the razor’s edge in his voice and smothered it fast. “I’ve known too many sailors. The only thing that concerns me is Trelane’s welfare. He’s been working here for a few days, and I’ve come to call him my friend.”

“Oh, I’ll not hurt him.” Burke’s right hand was charting the form of Toby’s backside. “Well, not much. Way back at the start, he didn’t need me to teach him the ropes and separate the virgin from his sweet dreams of romance. Did you,
Father
Trelane?”

“No.” Toby’s eyes were downcast. “What he told you …
it’s
all true, Jim. I did run from Norwich, on a coaster under cargo. I probably wasn’t even a priest any longer, not in the letter of the law, by the time I signed aboard the
Rose
. I was running days ahead of the news. Before it reached Portsmouth, well, we’d shipped out. On that score at least, I was safe.” He took a long, deep breath and summoned a smile. “If we survive to remember this, one day I’ll tell you the rest of the story.”

“Fair enough.”
Jim rubbed his hands together and surveyed Burke and Pledge darkly. “You said you wanted food. It was on the table a long time ago. Pie and ale, and all the rum you can drink, if you want it. In case you’re wondering – and you bloody-well ought to be! –
the
water’s just starting to wash under the doors. I don’t care what you take or what you break, so long as you harm no one under my roof. Leave the old lady alone. You hear me, Burke?”

“So the eunuch has fangs!” Burke’s arm was still over Toby’s shoulders, steering him out of the bedchamber and back to the stairs. “You’d be wise not to threaten me, innkeeper.”

“I’m not threatening.” Jim was a pace ahead of them, and turned back. “I’m trying to strike a deal.” He had Burke’s attention now, while Pledge fidgeted and grimaced in the rear. “I’m still young enough that I’d like to hang onto my life for as long as I can – young enough,” he added darkly, “to still care whether I live or die, and how. As for the old woman … I promised my poor dead mother I’d take care of her mother, and I’ll not go back on a promise if I can help it.”

“Very noble of you.
Now get down them stairs and bring out the food.” Burke shoved Toby ahead of him.

“And the rum,” Pledge added.

“Not rum.” Burke’s voice was sharp. “Not one drop o’ rum, Joe – keep a clear head, goddamn you. You want the little molly to give us the slip?”

“Oh, I know what I
wants
’im to gimme,” Pledge muttered, and then raised his voice.
“Ale then.
I’ll take a jar or three of ale to wash the sea outta me throat.”

“You’ll take
two
, and not one drop more.” Burke swung on him. “
Three,
and you’ll be stupider than usual. Do like
I’s
tellin’ you, Joe, and you keep both your eyes on the bitch. It’ll be my pleasure to hump him good and hard, for old times’ sake … but I’ll not
be
trustin
’
him. Not till the prize is
here
.” He made a fist, clenching it so tight, the muscles of his forearm trembled.

The sense of it impressed Pledge. He gave a yellow-toothed grin and went on down the stairs ahead of Jim. Burke had Toby by a handful of his hair, and pulled him closer. Jim’s own fists clenched, his fingers itched to make a grab for one of the pistols, but he took his cue from Toby. The blue eyes were half closed, his face was impassive, his whole body relaxed, just rolling with Burke for
all the
world like a boat without a rudder.

“Now, you listen to me,” Burke was saying, and Jim forced himself to pay attention through a haze of rage such as he had never known before. “You belonged to me once, Toby lad. Fact is
,
you still do. I never gave you
no
ticket o’ leave. You owe me, Trelane.
You’s
alive today because you came under my hand, my protection. You swindle me, and there’s no place on God’s green earth you can hide. I’ll find you, and when I do, you’ll spend a year
beggin
’ for death before I make you the gift of it. You understand me?”

 
“I understand you,” Toby whispered. “I always did, Nathaniel. I never said I didn’t owe you a debt, and you should know me better than to think I’d try a swindle. I might not be a priest, but I’m an honest man.”

“All right, then.” Unexpectedly, Burke let him go, gave him a push. “Get downstairs and get some food into you. By damn, you’re a skinny bag o’ bones. But you’ll be
workin
’ like the bloody slave you are tomorrow – you’ll be
takin
’ this place apart, brick from brick, if need be. So get some food in your belly.”

With a dark glance at Jim, Toby headed down in Pledge’s wake. At the head of the stairs Jim came eye to eye with Burke, and choked off a tirade. At last he said tautly, “You own him?”

“I won him.” Burke was intent on Jim, gauging, judging. “I won the pretty little thing on the turn of a single card. Ten minutes later, I burned my mark into the cheek of his arse and dared any other man to lay a finger on him without my say-so. And I never said so. You can believe me when I tell you, he was pretty enough to drive the wits clean out of a man’s head, at that age.”

“He still is,” Jim said quietly.
“In a different way, perhaps, but the beauty’s still there.”
He tilted his head at Burke. “Your protection saved his hide, and I’m grateful for that. It’s one
favor
I owe you, Captain.
The only one.”

For a moment Burke blinked at him. “Damnation, you’re sweet on him yourself.”

“He’s my friend,” Jim rasped.

“Aye, mateship’s how it starts.” Burke looked Jim up and down with fresh eyes. “Six months out o’ port, it turns into more and there ain’t no
goin
’ back. Not when
you’s
had a taste of the other.” He accorded Jim a rare, genuine grin. “Take care, innkeeper. Make sure you don’t get that taste, or you’ll be
hellbound
with the rest of us.”

With that he was gone, leaving Jim to take the stairs more slowly, exaggerating the limp at every step. He came down into the light of a half dozen lanterns set up in the taproom, and as his feet hit the floor he swore. The water was an inch deep – it would already be trickling into the cellar, though at this rate it would take a long time to fill the space below. It was too late to get the mortar down now – not that Burke would let it be done, since the cellar must be torn apart along with the rest of the house.

And in fact Jim suspected the cellar was the only hiding place left. The walls of the coach house were too thin to offer a cranny the size Chegwidden would have needed. Unless he had broken the prize down into a hundred tiny parcels, which Toby swore would not have occurred to such a simple man, the treasure of Diego Monteras was not in the coach house.

It was also not in the tavern, Jim mused, unless Charlie had hidden it in the kitchen hearth, right under the fire which was never supposed to go out. He angled a glance in through the half-open kitchen door, watching Edith working around that same hearth. She had been cooking here since Nell Chegwidden was struck down by sickness which killed her within a year, around the same time as Charlie arrived home for the last time. If the hearth had ever deliberately been doused, she would know.

At the bar end of the taproom, one table was set up with pies and pickled pork, cabbage and cheese, old apples and ale. Pledge was already eating; Burke was still loading up his plate. Toby had just poured himself a mug of the dark ale when Jim called, “Toby, give me a hand for a minute. You can eat soon enough.”

The call seemed to come as a relief. Toby was grateful to get out of the reach and earshot of Burke and Pledge, and he joined Jim in the kitchen door, rolling up his sleeves, ready to work. Burke’s eyes were on him every second, and on Jim, and Jim said loudly enough to be heard, “We need to get a good wedge of the kitchen firewood up off the floor before the water rises, or we’ll be eating cold food.” He gave Burke a grim look. “No need to help, Captain, but you’d best let us get it done while we can.”

Burke waved them away with one hand, and drew a pistol with the other. “Mind your manners, the both of you.
You’s
got nowhere to run, and I’ll put a pistol ball in the first one who steps outta line.”

“I believe you,” Jim breathed. “And even so, this firewood’s got to be moved.
Toby?”

The kitchen door swung wide open, affording Burke an uninterrupted view of the hearth area, where Edith had retired to her chair with the dogs. Of the cat, there was no sign. Toby wore a doubtful expression, but the more Burke could see
,
the better Jim liked it. He beckoned Toby to the job and began clearing the mantel and the small table. “Stack as much as we can in here and on the bar.” His voice dropped to a murmur. “The fire’s going to be out in another hour –”

“And you know the cellar’s starting to flood.” Toby was already hefting split wood.

“What chance,” Jim wondered softly, “the prize is under the hearth? Who’d ever think to search
under
the kitchen fire?”

“A good chance.”
Toby stooped for another load.
“Even money, Jim.
It’s either under the hearth or in the cellar.” He looked over his shoulder at Burke. “Please God, we can find it.”

“Please God,” Jim echoed. “You can still say those words after … everything.”

Color
flushed in Toby’s cheeks. “You know most of it now. All the things I’d never have told you, and hoped you’d never find out.”

“About how you’re his property.”
Jim heaved an armful of wood onto the mantel and paused to frown at Toby. “And you really are.”

“Was,” Toby corrected. “Nathaniel might say he never gave me any notice of freedom, but it’s been a long, long time since the survivors of the
Rose
went their separate ways. I’ll carry his mark to the grave, but I swear to you, Jim, I’ve done honest work since I walked away from that company. I was allowed to walk away because we were hunted men. Put me and Nathaniel together in the same place and we’d have been fifty times more recognizable in a crowd than we were alone.”

“You came back,” Jim said pointedly. “The time and the place were set.
Right here, and right now.
And here you are.”

“Looking for Charlie,” Toby whispered. “Two days ahead of the others, and hoping to take a handful of the prize and vanish into the mist before they caught up with me.” He stooped for more wood. “You know what I hoped for.”

“And you found me instead.” Jim divided his attention between Toby and the table where Burke and Pledge were stuffing their faces and drinking noisily. “Damnit, Toby, you should have told me!”

“That I left the priesthood in
disgrace,
went to sea to evade the church authorities and served my penance as a whore?” The fair head shook. “You knew I made an enemy of the legal captain, took part in a mutiny and was on the run for my crimes. It was enough. The rest…” He thumped a load of wood down onto the table. “Leave me a shred of dignity. You didn’t need to know any more.”

“Damaged goods,” Jim said softly. “That’s what you called yourself.”

“And I am. I never denied it. But I’m not a whore now – I was what they made me, and what I had to be, to survive.”