Dawn on a Distant Shore (44 page)

Pickering's voice
broke. "Name your price!"

Stoker looked at
Giselle with a thoughtful expression and then squinted up at Pickering. "Not
so fast. I haven't sampled the merchandise yet, have I?"

The noises that came
from the captain were not quite human, but Stoker only laughed. "All
right, then, man. My price is very reasonable. This pretty morsel in me arms
for them-was And he pivoted and pointed with his knife at Hannah and Curiosity.

Shocked, Hannah
stepped back from the railing. Curiosity drew in her breath sharply through her
teeth.

"Christ,
Pickering. You look like you swallowed your tongue, man. It's simple enough. I want
the black woman and the three children. Hand them over and you can have this
one back."

Giselle moaned in his
arms, twisting slightly.

Moncrieff let out a
strangled laugh. "We will do no such thing!"

"No?" Stoker
shrugged. "I'll be sure to let the lady's father know how well you
protected and valued her."

"I can pay
you!" Pickering shouted. "What good are these children to you,
Stoker?"

"No use at
all." From behind the longboat that took up a good portion of the main
deck, a familiar voice. Hannah felt the jolt of it, even before she saw her
grandfather's long form unfolding. Hawkeye stood tall and straight, his hair
fluttering in the rain and his rifle fixed on Moncrieff. "To him, at
least. But I'm right fond of them. Surprised to see me, Angus?"

Moncrieff, struck
dumb, took two steps back from the rail. Then he laughed. "Hell, yes. But
come now, man. Even you couldn't make that shot from a rolling deck."

"Maybe not,"
said Hawkeye. "But then I expect one of us might get lucky."

And the hatch opened,
and gave Hannah another surprise: her father, and just behind him, Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was
trembling, frozen to the spot, terrified and overjoyed. She stood on the deck of
the
Jackdaw
and looked up. Hannah. Curiosity. And the babies, both of
them. Curiosity pulled open her cape so she could see them, blinking in the
misting rain, curls floating around faces flushed pink in the cool air. Her
vision blurred; she dashed the rain and the tears from her face. With some part
of her mind she was aware of the others: Giselle Somerville struggling weakly
in Stoker's arms, Hawkeye with his rifle sights on Moncrieff, and Pickering beside
him. They were arguing loudly.

Nathaniel shouted,
"Send them down now and nothing will happen to Miss Somerville."

Pickering began to
give the order, but Moncrieff cut him off with a chop of his hand. "No.
The earl's instructions are clear."

"Angus, it's the
daughter of the lieutenant governor he's got there! How will you explain it if
we arrive in Scotland without her?"

Moncrieff stood with
both arms stemmed against the rail. His voice carried on the wind, clear as the
air itself. "Do ye think Carryck cares aught for her, or for any of us,
for that matter? It's his heir that he wants. Think, man! If we sail on now,
the
Jackdaw
will follow us anyway."

"Maybe so,"
interrupted Hawkeye. "But you won't see that shore again yourself,
Moncrieff. I've got you in my sights, and I ain't about to let you make off
with my grandchildren again."

Moncrieff's face was a
mask, his tone as cold as the rain on their faces. "Go on and shoot me, if
ye must. The
Isis
will still sail for Scotland wi' the bairns and you'll
still follow. And that's all that matters."

"Oh, I don't
know," said Hawkeye. "I'd wager that Pickering will hand them over
for the woman. Once you're dead, o' course."

Moncrieff's mouth
turned down at one corner. "A noble plan, Hawkeye. And it would work, no
doubt, but you dinna ken Pickering's situation. He can ill afford the earl's
wrath. Ask him yourself. Horace, and were I deid, would you hand over the
bairns? Think carefully now, before you answer."

The captain's
expression stilled suddenly. He looked at Giselle, at Curiosity where she stood
with the babies, at Moncrieff. He began to speak, and then stopped.

"Do you
see?" said Moncrieff. "Shoot me if you must, but the
Isis
sails for the Solway Firth, and your bairns wi' her."

Robbie had hung back
beldecks, but now he rose out of the hatch in a fury. "Angus Moncrieff, ye
bluidy dog. Ye'll beg tae die should I get ma hands on ye, man!"

Elizabeth saw
something flutter across Moncrieff's long face. Regret? Doubt? But it was gone
as quickly as it came, and he only shrugged. "You o' all people should
understand what's at stake, MacLachlan."

"I understand
weel enough. I understand that we sat in that hole o' a gaol for weeks because
ye arranged for it! Ye abused our trust and friendship, Moncrieff. Ye're naught
bu' a bairn-snatcher, a common thief, and a damned liar." Robbie spat over
the rail in disgust.

Elizabeth drew in as
much air as she could hold, and let it go in a rush. "Give me back my
children!"

Moncrieff's head
swiveled toward her. "Mrs. Bonner, you may come to your children," he
said. "You alone. Sail on with us, in comfort."

Nathaniel turned his
head and met her eye, and in his expression was failure, and regret, and a deep,
abiding fury. They had risked this, and lost. Giselle was not enough to move
Moncrieff; his own life was not so important to him as this errand for Carryck.

He touched her face,
and swallowed so that the column of muscles in his throat worked hard. "Go
on."

She caught his hand.
"I will not go without you!" And she turned her face back up to
Moncrieff. "All of us! All four of us must board!"

But Moncrieff was
shaking his head. "I'm no' so verra soft in the heid, Mrs. Bonner, as to
invite three men on board who want nothing better than to slit my throat. Come
and care for the bairns, and you'll see your menfolk in Scotland."

Hannah leaned into
Curiosity, who rocked all three children against her.

"I give you my word
that I won't raise a hand to you!" Nathaniel shouted.

Moncrieff stood there,
stone-faced. Pickering was talking in a low voice into his ear, but Moncrieff's
gaze was unfocused, set on something on the horizon that they could not see, or
even imagine. Her children were nothing to him but a problem to be solved.
Elizabeth flushed hot; she could feel the anger pushing at her, pushing her forward.

"Coward!"
She screamed it, and the word spiraled up to him and hit him full in the face;
she saw him flinch as if she had slapped him. Somehow Elizabeth had found the
right weapon: she had shamed him by calling his courage into question.

He blinked. "Your
husband can come on board, if he comes unarmed."

"Done."
Nathaniel's voice was hoarse with effort.

"The wind is
picking up," shouted Pickering. "There's no time to lose!"

Elizabeth took leave
of Robbie and Hawkeye, who stood grim faced, their weapons still at the ready.
She touched her cheek to their bristled ones, but they spoke little. What was
there to say, after all? They were bound for Scotland; Moncrieff would have his
way. She might try to convince them to go home now, but she knew that it was no
good: they would follow, and if Moncrieff led them to China. Hawkeye could no
more turn away and leave his son and his son's family to their fate than he
could put a gun to Nathaniel's head. And Moncrieff knew it. She could see that certainty
on his face: he would keep Nathaniel and Daniel close by, and Hawkeye would
follow.

Elizabeth left the
Jackdaw
without a backward glance. Nathaniel followed her up the rope net with the
carry bag slung over his shoulder. Halfway between the two decks, she paused to
look back at Hawkeye and Robbie.

Nathaniel read her
mind, as he did so often. "We're not beat yet," he said quietly.
"Don't give up hope."

She nodded, wiped her
face against her sleeve, and went up to claim her children.

There was a knot in
Nathaniel's belly, a twist of pure anger and relief. The sight of his children
whole and unharmed was one part of it; Moncrieff was another. He had given his
word and he would do his best to keep it, but it wouldn't be easy unless the
man kept his distance.

The babies were
howling in confusion or joy; he could not tell which. Even Squirrel wept openly.
"We can't leave Grandfather and Robbie," she wailed in
Kahnyen'kehâka. And then she said it again, yelled it down over the rail. Hawkeye
raised a hand and touched his fingers to his mouth.

Nathaniel did not wipe
her tears away; she had earned them, after all. But he put an arm around her
and held her, felt the tension in her that matched his own.

"We will get
through this, all of us." It was the most he could offer her.

Elizabeth was caught
in a tangle with Curiosity, the squirming babies held between them. Curiosity
said, "We was expectin' you on the
Osiris
," she said, laughing
and scowling all at once. "And here you show up on a pirate ship."

"The captain of
the
Osiris
didn't like the idea, either," Nathaniel said, reaching
for Daniel. "He must have had a spy on our tails, because they set out
after the
Jackdaw
as soon as we weighed anchor."

Elizabeth shook her
head in irritation. "This discussion must wait," she said, her voice
hoarse and tears running freely. "I want to get these children out of the
rain."

"Wait."
Curiosity twisted to look down at the deck of the
Jackdaw
. "We
ain't quite done yet."

"Miss Somerville
interests me not at all," Elizabeth said sharply, her chin going up at
that angle Nathaniel knew too well, when her anger had the better of her.
"She may go to the devil, for all I care. I wish she would, if it meant
she will no longer interfere in our affairs."

"That's one wish
you may just get," Curiosity said dryly.

"Will you hurry
with those manropes!" barked Pickering.

"Never mind your
manropes," Stoker shouted, putting Giselle on her feet and patting her rear
in a familiar way. "We're pushing off. Move smart, lads! Jib aft!"

"Stoker!"
roared Pickering. "What is the meaning of this!"

But it was Giselle who
answered him. She stood there with a strange half-smile on her face, but her
voice carried strong. "I am so sorry, Horace! But I should have made a
very poor wife. We are both better off this way!"

Pickering stood,
swaying slightly, like a man who takes a bullet but doesn't have the sense to
fall down. Below him, Giselle spread out her hands in a gesture that might have
been regret.

Scattered around the
deck, men stood frozen in place, their expressions divided between surprise and
disgust. All except Moncrieff, who was watching the captain closely.

"Captain!"
Mr. MacKay's voice cracked like a boy's. "Sir, give the order and we'll
demast her with a single volley!"

Pickering looked
confused, as if his first officer spoke a language he had never before heard. Then
he ran a hand over his eyes and finally turned and walked away, disappearing
into the round-house to shut the door behind him.

Hannah said, "She
was telling the truth. It was the
Jackdaw
she was waiting for."

Elizabeth let out a
little sound of surprise. "Miss Somerville is running off with Mac Stoker?"
And she sought out Nathaniel's gaze as if he might know more about this than
she could. But it was Curiosity who answered.

"She had it
planned all along. She didn't reckon on you showing up with him, though. That
took her by surprise. Us, too." Curiosity's dark eyes followed the smaller
ship as it inched away, but Nathaniel was more concerned with Moncrieff, who
came striding down the deck.

"Mr.
MacKay!" The deep voice carried from one end of the ship to the other.
"Carry on so long as the captain is indisposed. And mark me--no action is
to be taken now or at any time against the
Jackdaw
." He rubbed a
hand over his face. "Make sail, man. It's time we were hame."

As a young woman
Nathaniel's mother had sailed from Scotland to join her father in New-York.
When Nathaniel asked her about the journey, she had looked up in her thoughtful
way, her eyes scanning the mountains, taking in ash and beech, birch and maple,
endless stretches of white and red pine, blue spruce and hemlock: too many
kinds of green to count.

"Imagine a world
wi'oot trees, or a single growin' thing," she had said. "And should
ye climb tae the highest point on the highest mast, there's naught tae see but
water and sky cleavin' taegither."

Even as a boy this
idea of a world without trees had not interested him, as wild and curious as he
had been. And now, more than three weeks out of Québec, it still took him by
surprise. Waking at sunset, Nathaniel was first aware of the lingering light,
the color of meat gone bad.