The Jezebel (Taskill Witches 3)

A silence fell over them, all men watching the navy ships, Libertas in tow, fade into the distance. Brady shifted and set about putting the oars into position. As he did, the sea fell still and the sun broke through the clouds.

It was uncanny, but the wind lifted again a moment later and the boats bobbed and drifted north.

“Imagine that, the weather is on our side,” Clyde said with a chuckle. “Luck is clearly with our captain, for he is still alive, and now the weather is aiding our journey after the Libertas.”

Roderick knew what Clyde was trying to say, but he couldn’t believe it, despite the evidence he’d witnessed the night before. Could it be Maisie’s doing?

Brady quickly regained his position and shouted across to the other two boats, commanding them to take up their oars. Men hastened to the task.

Roderick climbed onto a seat, dragging himself up.

The wind truly was on their side.

“Captain?” Clyde asked, awaiting instruction when he saw Roderick’s attention sharpen.

“Take turns with the rowing, fresh men on the task every half hour.”

“In which direction, Captain?” Clyde asked with a grin.

“Onward to Dundee.” He glanced at the coast, recalling their position before the ambush. “We are well beyond Saint Andrews. The mouth of the Tay estuary is almost within sight. Follow the shoreline. We’ll cling to the southern bank until we reach Newport. If this wind at our back holds we’ll be there by late afternoon. Then we cross to the northern bank.”

“You have a plan?”

“Aye. We’ll enter Dundee harbor under cover of darkness.”

“And then?”

“And then we take back what they have stolen from us.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Roderick and his men rowed into Dundee harbor well after midnight, when the cloud coverage shielded them from moonlight that would otherwise expose them to the men who kept watch over the ships at night. It was, however, the harbor that Roderick knew best in the whole world, for he had played down there as a lad and dreamed of sailing out to sea on one of the ships he saw. That knowledge of the harbor was proving invaluable for this endeavor and made the task of negotiating a stealthy approach relatively straightforward.

They secured the rowboats by tying them one to the other beneath a wooden jetty. Their plans had been made on the way across the Tay, and from the moment they set foot on land Roderick issued commands in low whistles or by signaling with his hands.

Brady went on ahead to estimate the number of navy men who’d been left to guard the Libertas. One of their own crew stayed behind with the rowboats in case they needed them to make a swift departure. If all went well, he and the skiffs would be fetched up after they regained charge of the Libertas. The other men followed Roderick’s lead in small clusters as they made their way along the dockyards until they found the Libertas.

When he caught sight of it, Roderick’s thoughts went immediately to Maisie. He should have been relieved to find his ship, but instead found himself thinking of her, and his blood pumped a little faster. In a stolen moment of wry contemplation, he acknowledged his sorry state. Apparently he would never be rid of dreams and desires when it came to Maisie from Scotland.

They hung back until Brady rejoined them. “No more than six men on deck, one on the jetty side.”

Roderick nodded at Gilhooly, who’d been given the most important task of all, that of causing a distraction. It was his specialty. He often went ahead of them when they docked in London to lure the excise men away on false missions.

Gilhooly nodded and pulled a flask of rum from his pocket. Uncorking it, he took a long swig, then sprinkled some on his coat before meandering off down the jetty toward the stern of the ship.

A few moments later Roderick heard his drunken carousing as he bellowed up at the rail. “You up there, fetch out the captain of the Libertas, for he owes me wages. I was told the ship had returned and I want my purse now.”

By the sound of it he was making a good show, because there was a lot of noisy stumbling and what might even have been a dislodged barrel rolling across the jetty.

Roderick signaled his men, then jerked his head, indicating they should follow. As they approached the ship he saw that lanterns were being held aloft and predictably being carried to the stern, where Gilhooly had been told to draw them.

Roderick led the way and clambered up the net that hung down from the bow of the ship, wondering briefly at how his wounded shoulder did not give out. He could hear the navy men shouting back at Gilhooly and telling him to go away, for the captain was not available, nor would he be.

That is where you are mistaken, Roderick thought to himself as he vaulted quietly over the railing onto the deck.

Moving as quickly as he could, he waved the other men up. Once they were crouched behind him, he ducked down and crossed the deck. Using the masts and the shadows they managed to conceal their approach until they came up behind the navy watchmen. Roderick counted five leaning over the railing, lanterns held aloft. The naval officer who was stationed on the jetty below was now in a full-blown argument with Gilhooly. The men observing from the ship were conversing with each other and laughing.

Roderick looked back over his shoulder. He had two dozen men in position, grouped to take one man down each. They were under strict instructions to do as little lasting damage as possible, for Roderick didn’t want the navy to add that to his list of misdemeanors. He was already going to have to rename the ship and register it over again in Holland, in order for them to disappear away to the distant seas. But he knew he could trust his men to handle it well. He raised his hand, nodded, and they went in.