Trials of Artemis (27 page)

Gideon
awoke with the worst hangover of his life. He tried to put his hand to his
aching head but couldn't move. Coming to his senses a bit more, he realized
that his arms were secured behind his back and he was lying against a cold
stone wall. The pain in his head was so severe that he felt like retching, but instead
gritted his teeth and tried to get his bearings. There was dim light flickering
from a lantern in another room. He heard the drip of water periodically and the
murmur of voices at a distance. Gods, what was the last thing he remembered?
Jack. His wife Jacqueline had been at breakfast and they had quarreled.
Afterwards he had gone riding again to clear his head. Then what? He closed his
eyes to concentrate. What happened next? He had ridden along the cliffs as they
descended at the north end of his land. Boats. He had seen what looked like two
crates down at the beach off the inlet. Then what? His concentration was broken
by a voice rising high enough for him to hear.

"I
don' plum care that he's Himself," a gruff voice growled. "As soon as
they find that little rat Gladstone we'll be rid o' the both of 'em."

The
second voice was more wheedling. "Gladstone went back to the manor sure as
sure does. We'll have the sheriff down on us soon as anything."

"I
done told ye not to worry about the sheriff!"

"I
don' want no part in hushing the cull, er, I mean his lordship.”

Gideon
knew that the two ruffians were discussing killing him. He struggled against
the ropes on his arms but couldn’t work them loose. His wrists were raw and
sticky with blood. If he wasn’t free and able to defend himself soon then this
might all be over. He didn’t know how Philip figured into this, but could only
hope the boy had made it back to Kellington.

"Ye
fool," the gruff one continued, "ye hang just as sure whether you
slip the knife or no. I'm done waitin', we need to move out. I'm gettin' that
itchy feeling."

"Mr.
Belfor, don' make me do it," the other voice whined.

A
meaty smack echoed against the stone walls followed by a whimper. "Ye'll
do as I tell ye and I want no guff from ye!"

Gideon
peered through the dim light, trying to discern where the men were since their
voices echoed on the stone walls. The rough walls, sea smell and dripping water
made him think they must be in a cave along the cliffs but he didn't know one
existed on his land. As he struggled against the ropes he saw the lantern light
bobbing closer with heavy footsteps. Before the light could reach him he ceased
his struggles and pretended to be unconscious. His hope now lay in surprise.

Jack
and the men mounted horses and raced across the Downs. The sun was setting at
their backs and casting uneven shadows over the rolling hills, but she knew
that this was no time to hesitate. She had been relieved and almost moved to
tears to see Tyche among the horses from the stable and now, bent low over the
mare's neck, urged her to fly over the tufted grasses. The men were spread out
on both sides of her and difficult to see in the failing light of dusk. Now
that they were putting her plan into action she worried whether she had made
the right choices. Did she wait too long? Should they not have come at all?
Would the plans work? Had she brought enough men? Would they all survive? She
forced back her doubts and focused on keeping herself and Tyche safe on this
pell-mell race. She heard a muffled shout from one of the men and turned her
head. The winds were blowing hard, whipping words away from them as they tried
to call to one another. Perhaps the difficulty in hearing would work in their
favor when they had to approach the smugglers. For now the wind and sound of
thudding hooves drowned out their voices. She saw that one of her men was
waving a hand to the south and, after a moment, saw the lantern that had caught
his attention. He held up three fingers and pointed to the light in the
distance. Jack nodded, assuming that he proposed his team investigate. He and
the two young footmen assigned to him split off from the main group and
galloped towards the light.

Jack
took the rest of the men to the cliffs. As they neared their destination her
heart was beating painfully in her chest, her breath harsh and burning her
throat. It worried her to think that they might be too late, that Gideon might
have already been killed by the owlers.

Surely
not. Surely the criminals would be too afraid of the penalty they would face.
But as she looked out over the darkened landscape she reminded herself that
with their smuggling and brutish ways they tempted death, even a hanging, every
day. It would perhaps be a little thing to kill and dispose of a peer. But not
just a peer. Giddy. Arrogant, complicated, and oddly sweet Giddy. She set her
jaw as they began to pull up the horses at the path that Philip had said led down
to the beach and cavern the owlers used as part of their smuggling operation.
She had to believe that there was still time left and that they would succeed.

Using
Philip's advice on where the owler sentries would be, Jack and her men left
their horses ground tied and moved stealthily down toward the beach. It was a
risk trusting the steward after his perfidy. The whole of this was a terrible
risk. They couldn’t use a lantern to light their way, as Philip had said the
ship would arrive after sunset to wait for a signal from shore. The moonlight
barely highlighted the trail they needed to follow along the treacherous cliffs
but they didn’t hesitate.

One
of the older soldiers, Hammond, led his men forward with Jack’s group close
behind. Shortly after Hammond rounded a rock outcropping, Jack heard a scuffle
and muffled shout. By the time she came up with her men Hammond had the sentry
down. Listening keenly she only heard the pounding surf on the night air. Most
likely the guard's shout hadn't been noted. She let out a pent up breath. The first
hurdle had been crossed. There would be at least four more men at the entrance
to the cave. The plan was for Jack to target them with her arrows, then have
her men rush any who remained in hopes of overwhelming them before they could
call to the smugglers inside the cave or signal the boat. This seemed by far
the riskiest part of the plan, but Jack knew that they needed to press forward
and try to gain an advantage while they could. As they inched their way down
the steep, uneven trail in the dark they heard the sound of skittering gravel
and the occasional grunt when one of the men mis-stepped. A cold wind blew up
from the sea to whip around them, at times pushing them forward and other times
back. Jack stayed close to the cliff wall, and wasn't sure if the black void at
the edge of path was more or less comforting than seeing how far they would
fall if either the wind or an owler managed to send them off the side.

Finally
gaining the beach, the group spread out in the pale light of the waning moon.
Once they spotted the mouth of the cave, where the sentries stamped their feet
and blew in their hands to ward off the chill oceanfront wind, Jack pulled her
bow from her back and strung it. When her arrow was notched she nodded to her
men to proceed. As they drew closer to the sentries she murmured a quick prayer
and sent her arrows flying in quick succession. Three of the sentries were down
before her men had to pounce, but the fourth sentry managed to cry out and dash
back towards the cave. Hammond took him down with a brutal knock to the back of
the head and her men pulled the bodies away from the entrance as planned. One
man came trotting out from the cavern holding aloft a light to search for the
sentries that should be at there, most likely having heard the cry but unsure
of what it had meant. Jack waited for a moment to make sure that he wasn't
about to be joined by another then loosed an arrow. Rather than strike the man
solidly in the chest it hit his shoulder, spinning him away and making him drop
the lantern. Jack drew another arrow but the flare up of the spilled lantern
oil flashed in her eyes and cast dancing black shadows against the stone. She
heard the man yelling as he staggered back into the cavern and knew that they
had no choice but to attack while they still had some surprise on their side.
She threw down her bow and drew her sword for the run into the dark maw of the
cave, her men close behind her. Within moments they were in the tight, echoing
corridor carved into the rock face. As they rushed forward in the darkness Jack
could hear the man she had hit with her arrow running ahead of them through the
chamber, yelling "Attackers! Attackers!"

As
her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she could see a dim light coming from the area
ahead of her. She feared stumbling through the dark, twisting passage but her
fear of what had become of Gideon was far greater. One of her men shouldered
past her. She pushed herself to move more quickly before she was left at the
rear of the attack. A dim lantern burned in a larger cavern just ahead. As they
entered the larger area she saw
two other dark
openings gaped at the other end of the rounded stone chamber. The man she had
shot was here, along with four other men. A blunderbuss was fired in the small
space, felling one of her men and deafening her. She and her men rushed the
owlers, swords flashing. One of the owlers, the best dressed of them, retreated
behind the others. He had the discharged blunderbuss and his eyes darted as he
considered his exits. Jack sidestepped the melee to work on cornering him. He
edged towards one of the dark openings.

"Where
is the earl?" Jack shouted. She could hardly hear herself between the
ringing in her ears from the gunshot and the clash of steel from the fighting
around her. The owler seemed to understand her, however, giving her a sadistic
grin and drawing his finger across his throat. Jack felt her heart plummet and
tears burned at the back of her eyes. She surged forward to slash at the man,
closing the distance quickly with her long stride. She saw his hand come up, at
first she thought in order to try to ward off her attack, but then she felt the
grit and stinging in her eyes. She tried to keep them open, but a flood of
tears started immediately and she couldn't see. She felt herself seized and a
knife pressed into her throat.

The
man holding her shouted, "Drop your weapons, what, or the bitch will get
what's coming to her."

Jack
heard the fighting slow and then swords hitting the ground. The man shook her.
"Yours too, bitch, or you'll join Himself bleeding out on the floor."

It
took her a moment, but she decided to drop the sword. It was doing her little
use now.

"All
right then," the man continued. "Seems as me and the lady will be
making our way to the boat now. All of you back your way into that spot over
there if you please."

Jack’s
face was streaked with tears from the grit, from frustration, and from a
welling sense of grief over losing the husband she was only beginning to know.
Her men backed away from the owler. She realized that all of the tears were
slowly but surely clearing her eyes as she could see the looks of concern and
frustration clear on their faces. Of all the things they had considered and
discussed, how to handle her being taken hostage hadn't been in their plan. But
she would be damned if this scoundrel was going to abduct her and the potential
future earl. She slipped a hand into her jacket and slowly drew her tiny,
jeweled Spanish dagger from its sheath, silently thanking Sabre for the gift.
She tried to remember what George had told her about how to strike vital organs
but knew that the way she was being held severely limited what damage she could
do. It seemed there were three potential options. Strike over her shoulder and
into his neck, a wound that could bring a bloody death within minutes, but a
risky attack since she couldn't see and the motion would most likely give him
too much time to react. Strike into his thigh which could also bleed out within
minutes but the vein was harder to get to. Or strike into the abdomen. Unlikely
to cause immediate death, but would absolutely cause death within a few days.
And this last attack would be the easiest of the three. The only complicating
factor was that he could respond by slitting her throat.

Jack
took a deep breath, wrapped both hands around the hilt, and plunged the dagger
into his side with all the force she could muster. She heard him exhale with a
shrieking gasp, taken completely by surprise. She yanked the small dagger to
the side for the most damage she could inflict. Rather than plunge his blade
into her he grabbed her by the throat and spun her around.

His
eyes looked pitch black in the lantern light, wide with surprise and anger. "Bitch,
I want you to see me killing you."

He
was holding her throat so tightly that she couldn't breathe. She thought that
her vision was going spotty when she saw a shadow behind him. The shadow
brought a large rock down on the owler's head and after a spasmodic clenching
of his hand the man released her as he fell to the ground. Jack coughed and
choked, trying to breathe again after having her throat nearly crushed. Then
the shadow moved forward and resolved into a familiar shape.

"Gideon?"
she wheezed.

Stepping
over the owler he swept her into a fierce hug. She held on just as tightly.
After a few moments he stepped back and took her hands, frowning at the blood
on them. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving
you?" Her throat was still raw from her struggle with the owler and burned
with her unexpressed fear for his safety. She wanted to stroke his face, his
form, to reassure herself that he was really here and whole, but his grip on
her hands kept her from moving. When she looked into his eyes in the dim light
she saw the unusual expression she had noted before. The one she had seen the
first time they had made love. Unguarded. Intense.