“What is in that stuff anyway?” the inn keeper asked.
Oliver shook his head. “Just go and see if anyone is awake. If they are, ask if they want more drinks. If not, tell me and we can get them out of there. Just make sure we have a clear route out back, eh?”
“He has two thugs in the stable yard. I delivered their ale earlier.”
“They didn’t drink from the mugs that were on the tray?” Oliver cursed when the inn keeper shook his head.
“Sorry, I forgot about them.”
“Get two more ales then and bring them to me.” Oliver dug around in his pocket while the inn keeper fetched the drinks. Because time was short, Oliver knew he had to put more of the drug into the drinks, so it worked faster. Minutes later, he watched the inn keeper disappear outside with the drugged ale. When he returned, Oliver nodded to the closed parlour door but suspected he already knew what the inn keeper would find. The room had, strangely, fallen quiet.
The inn keeper opened the door and entered the room. He paused and didn’t bother to close the door behind him as he usually would. Instead, he scratched his head and studied the snoring men scattered around the room like fallen skittles. One or two had slumped over the backs of chairs as the need to sleep had swiftly taken them over. Others had curled up on the floor. Smidgley was sprawled in a high-backed chair at the head of the long table positioned in the centre of the room, his head lolled back, his mouth wide open.
Oliver grinned when he sauntered into the room and met the inn keeper’s bemused look.
“Well, that worked,” the inn keeper muttered.
Oliver quietly placed a finger across his lips. He leaned back out of the door and winked at Rhys, who casually sauntered around the bar and came to join them. He then passed them and moved into the kitchen doorway whereupon he let out a strange whistle. With a wink at two giggling maids who saucily eyed him up, he then returned to Oliver and studied the sleeping occupants of the room.
“It’s done,” Harry whispered. He grinned at Emmeline. “Now it is time to go.”
“Where?” Emmeline asked.
“We have to get back onto our horses.”
Emmeline opened her mouth to ask where they were going next but suspected it was to the gaol. She was surprised when, after Rhys’s long low whistle, the rumble of carriage wheels broke the silence. Moments later, a black carriage rode eerily quietly into the yard. The driver was dressed entirely in black and was driving a huge black carriage pulled by two large, equally black horses. Together, they looked macabre; like visiting death waiting to capture any stragglers. She shivered and edged closer to Harry.
“It’s only Niall,” Harry whispered. “Not to worry, eh?”
Emmeline still felt unnerved as she watched Niall bring the carriage to a rumbling halt. Someone descended the carriage and hurried inside. Seconds later, they reappeared carrying what looked like several bottles and climbed aboard. However, the door to the carriage didn’t close. Rhys and Oliver carried out Smidgley and then someone else. The inn keeper and two very trustworthy patrons carried out two more men before they all disappeared back inside the tavern. Minutes later, they reappeared with two more unconscious captives until eight men were carried into the waiting carriage in all. As soon as the last one was inside, the inn keeper and patrons returned to their drinks and the carriage door was closed ever so quietly. Niall then smoothly guided the carriage out of the yard, and out onto the village street.
Emmeline had barely mounted her horse when Oliver appeared beside her. He winked broadly at her and nodded to the narrow trail which ran around the outskirts of the village, back to the safe house.
“Let’s go,” Harry whispered.
“There are two more in the barn,” Oliver warned.
“So I saw,” Harry replied, his voice hushed. “Let’s get moving. I don’t like standing around here like this.”
Oliver nodded. He watched Phillip and Jasper disappear into the barn and knew his colleagues were going to transport the additional thugs to the gaol, but via a different route. Harry was going to venture off on his own and check the area for observers leaving Oliver to escort Emmeline to the gaol to oversee the delivery of their new captives. When they were done, they were then going to be free to return via the long route, to the safe house.
“It is going to be a long night,” Oliver warned Emmeline softly. “Are you sure you are going to be all right?”
No. Emmeline wasn’t at all sure she was going to be all right, but she wouldn’t have missed this for the world. While she still didn’t understand everything the Star Elite had just done, she was stunned by how swift and silent they had been. Not a sound had been made, not even when they had carried the sleeping men out of the tavern. If the lights of the tavern hadn’t illuminated them, albeit briefly, Emmeline wouldn’t have noticed anything unusual was going on. The huge bulk of the carriage had blocked the majority of what was happening from prying eyes. It was stunning that something so dangerous could be done so swiftly and so silently, and in the middle of a sleeping village as well. Emmeline was full of questions, but then suspected it was better off if she didn’t know. She was terrified enough as it was and had to focus on staying on her horse because her bottom was so sore that she was certain she wasn’t going to ever be able to sit down again after tonight.
Bravely, she squared her shoulders and focused on the only benefit of her discomfort, that of being able to spend more time with Oliver.
“It’s for the best,” Oliver growled when he saw her worried frown.
“What is?” Emmeline asked thoughtfully.
“What we have just done.”
“It is cold comfort, really, isn’t it?” she replied.
“Why?”
“Because there isn’t just Ernest Smidgley to worry about. While it is comforting knowing that he is unable to hurt anybody else, there i