Grantville Gazette, Volume 40 (25 page)

He forced himself not to shout her name. This was not an item Pam would ever leave behind willingly. He now saw the tracks of men, there had been four of them. He forced himself to stay calm as he carefully studied the tale they left behind. There had been a scuffle, Pam had knocked a man down here, and been knocked down herself there. He knew she would have put up a struggle, a younger and less seasoned Pam had used that sturdy oak length to ruin the jaw of his old nemesis, Kurt, undoubtedly saving an injured Gerbald's life. He remembered the man's teeth spilling onto the ground like a broken string of pearls, and smiled darkly.

"You were outnumbered, weren't you Pam?" he said quietly, straining his eyes against the rapidly fading light. "There were three of them, and this one came at you from behind. He knocked you out with that rock, and they dragged you into the woods. You injured one fairly badly though, his steps are uneven." A very rare tear came to his eye as Gerbald stared into the darkness of an unfamiliar forest, now a prison holding the beloved little sister of his and Dore's hearts. Was she still alive? His sixth sense told him that she was, but for how long? Who were these men? What did they want?

Gerbald picked up Pam's walking stick and leaned heavily against it, feeling all the aches and pains of his years lining up to kick him while he was down. He ignored them as he always did, and took a minute to think the situation over carefully, yet another trait that men of his profession who lived to see this many years shared. It was a moonless night, and he had very foolishly brought no illumination beyond a Zippo lighter bearing the coat-of-arms of the Harley Davidson clan, insufficient for this mission. While time might be of the essence, he couldn't follow a trail through a pitch-black forest, no matter how good he was. Regretfully, cursing himself for being too late to stop this tragedy, he turned back toward town. He broke into a sprint, running as fast as he could over the uneven terrain in the gathering darkness, grateful for the help of his lost friend's walking stick. He vowed he would return it to her! And, he would bring his men with him.

Chapter Fifty-Four: Gathering the Posse

When Torbjörn saw Gerbald running back down the dock with sunset now a half hour behind them, he knew something was terribly wrong. Torbjörn stood frozen, unable to move until the seasoned German soldier drew close enough for him to see his face; the grief and worry there told a terrible tale. Torbjörn gripped the rail, returning Gerbald's look, barely able to speak. "Is she—" His voice faltered.

Gerbald clambered up the ladder, and gently gripped the tall Swede's well muscled bicep. "She has been kidnapped, Torbjörn. I saw the signs of a struggle. She injured one, but it looked like the dirty bastards knocked her out with a rock! They have carried her away into the forest."

"Who?"Torbjörn felt fear and rage battling for control of his own face.

"I'm not sure. They look to be able woodsmen, though. I need to know, who in our crew has experience in the forest? I need to form a posse, and I want to keep it small."

"Åke was born in the woodlands of Dalarna, and Sten often brags about his hunting trophies."

"What about Lundkvist's marines?"

"I'm not sure. Shall I summon them? Apart from the man on guard duty here, they are all over on
Effrayant
."

"Yes, please. Have them report to me here. Also, have someone fetch that French doctor, I have some questions for him." Torbjörn started to move, but Gerbald held him a moment longer. "I feel it is important we keep this quiet for now. I don't want whoever has taken her to find out we are following, nor do I want them to understand just how valuable Pam is to us. If the colonists find out, we'll have every man, boy and probably half the women out in the woods making a racket, and destroying whatever sign there might be. For now, we need to be what the Americans call commandos, a small, fast, and stealthy force. All right?" Gerbald's eyes were wide with worry, but his voice was calm, the voice of a man used to danger and terror.

Torbjörn nodded his understanding. "Yes, of course, Gerbald! I will bring the men here quickly and quietly, we'll be back soon!" The lanky Swedish sea captain vaulted down the gangplank with the goat-sure step of a man used to navigating narrow spaces on rolling seas. Gerbald watched him sprint down the dock, surprised that a sailor could run so fast. Then, as fast as he himself could move with a painful stitch in his side, and nearly out of breath from his long run, he headed for the moment he dreaded—telling Dore.

To Gerbald's surprise there were no hysterics when he gave her the ill news. Dore simply sat down on a galley stool and began to silently pray. Gerbald watched until she finished a few minutes later. She rose up, face wet with tears, and embraced her husband. He hugged her back, stroking the long graying hair she had taken to wearing down her back in a loose braid. She trembled for a moment, then, with a deep breath, composed herself. She took a step back, and looked Gerbald in the eyes. "You will find her, my brave husband. I know you will. You will bring our Pam home," she told him with grave sureness.

He gave her a grim smile. "I will, dearest, I will."

Dore nodded, satisfied that her man would take care of it. "What do you need of me?"

"Wrap us up some trail rations and water skins. There will be around five or six of us."

"It will be done." Before she could turn to her duties, Gerbald stopped her for a quick, but passionate, kiss.

"That is for luck, in the American style," he said when their lips parted.

Dore favored him with a cool, confident style. "God will be watching over you all. I have no fear."

Gerbald hurried from the galley, climbing up the narrow ship's ladders until he had reached his and Dore's cabin, a palatial suite in their eyes. Moving fast, he grabbed his up-time-made compass and extra ammunition for the Snake-Charmer shotgun pistol. Next, he climbed up to Pam's even more sumptuous captain's quarters. Under normal circumstances he would never have considered invading her privacy, but she had something he needed. He looked around the large, exotically decorated room, his heart sinking at the clutter.

"Where would she keep it?" he muttered to himself. Then, he eyed a deep-red lacquered chest full of many small drawers standing beside her bed. In the third drawer down he found Pam's heavy, black metal flashlight. Next to it was her extra battery stash, contained in several layers of the peculiar clear bags Pam called "ziplocks." She had written "For Emergencies Only" in bold black on the outermost one. Gerbald determined those conditions had been met, as he carefully opened the fragile bags, and slid six of the batteries inside the odd mechanism in the way she had shown him. With a flick of the switch, a powerful beam of light cast across the room.

"Now I can go hunting in the dark." he told his absent friend. Gerbald closed the ziplocks, and stuffed their precious cargo of remaining batteries into one of his sage-green hunting coat's many deep pockets. Hanging from a nearby chair, he saw the gun belt he had fashioned for her, with its holstered Smith and Wesson .38. He strapped it onto his own waist, having to let quite a length of the leather belt out first. Pam was as thin as a stork these days, and he had perhaps added a pound or two since their capture of the Chinese junk's well-stocked galley. He soon found her box of extra ammunition in the chest of drawers, which went into another pocket. "Hang on Pam, we are coming!" he said aloud as he hurried for the door.

Torbjörn had mustered all the Swedish sailors and marines on
Second Chance Bird
's main deck, along with Doctor Durand. Gerbald noticed that the doctor had changed from his usual French gentleman's apparel into a rugged-looking outfit of leather boots, breeches and vest. A satchel hung from his shoulder, undoubtedly holding the tools and supplies of his trade. The men spoke quietly amongst themselves, and Gerbald could feel the hot wrath emanating from them. Whoever had stolen their beloved captain would have the very devil on their trail now; these were not to be trifled with. The bosun, whose red cheeks made him look the cheerful soul even when he was cursing a blue streak at his men as they worked on deck, looked as if he could tear a man's head off with his bare hands, so outraged was he by the crime. Woe betide the cur who would deprive them of Captain Pam!

Torbjörn stepped forward, making a sweeping gesture at the angry men he had gathered. "Gerbald, they all want to go with you, of course, but I have explained your plan. Kapten Lundkvist and I have selected the men we think are most suited to your purpose, one sailor and three marines from Pam's crew, and two marines from
Muskijl
. They all have experience hunting in the forests of our homeland, a vast and dangerous wilderness not to be trifled with."

Lundkvist stood leaning on his crutch beside Torbjörn, his face bitter with regret. "You know I would come myself, Sergeant Gerbald, but with this blasted stump I would just slow you down." The man was visibly upset, facing the painful fact that he would be deprived of full mobility for the rest of his life and resenting it deeply.

Gerbald took his friend and comrade-in-arms by his free hand, and shook it with a tight grip, which the injured man returned with a proud smile. "I know you would, Kapten. You have proven yourself a great warrior many times! You would brave the very depths of Hell to bring back our Captain Pam." He looked around to include all the men gathered. "All of us would! But for now her best chance is we move fast and quiet. They won't be expecting me to be able to track them in the darkness, that will give us the element of surprise." He let loose of a grateful Lundkvist's hand, and pulled the flashlight from his pocket. Keeping the beam pointed toward the deck, he switched it on. The men made quiet exclamations of wonder at its powerful, concentrated light. "This light belongs to her; it came with her from her future world. It's the edge we need." The men were suitably impressed, so he switched the beam off, Pam had taught him that each and every second of light was irreplaceable and precious.

"So, while I would prefer to have all of you good men behind me, I can only take as many as can follow this light through the forest's darkness. That doesn't mean the rest of you will have nothing to do, though. We are going to set up a base camp a short distance behind the high treeline, near her last known position. That way, if we need reinforcements or resupplying, reinforcement will be that much closer. I want you to man the camp in shifts of four, but we can't have all of you up there at once, and no one down here minding the docks. We don't want the colonists to know what has happened yet, so stay out of the town, and keep a low profile."

Gerbald now turned to Doctor Durand, addressing him in their common language, English. "Doctor, I must ask, do you have any idea who these men might be?"

"Yes, I believe I do. I think they are a band of scouts the captain took on in France. He must have known even then that he would need men with experience in the wilderness. We have not had time to make a full count of the prisoners, but I know these fellows spent most of their time out searching for good timber, so it is quite likely they were absent during the liberation of your colony. They are from the mountainous region called the Pyrenees along the Spanish border, and are little better than savages, who most certainly made their former living as bandits in the passes. These are rough men, evil men, and adept mountaineers. We must be very careful."

"I see. Thank you for the information, Doctor Durand. It is very helpful. Please have your surgery prepared for our return."

"But of course, Sergeant Gerbald, but my surgery is right here, and is coming with you." He patted his satchel, while raising his pointy bearded chin in confident pride.

"Sir, while I appreciate your eagerness to help, this is going to be a fast flight through a very dark forest. I apologize, but I don't think an educated gentleman such as yourself will be able to manage it. We cannot be slowed down." Gerbald hoped he hadn't offended the man, he was sure that the doctor truly meant well.

Durand simply nodded, he had been prepared for such an answer, and did not intend to be denied. "I understand your concern completely, sir, but I assure you I am well-versed in the art of mountaineering. I have taken many healthful and studious expeditions into the Alps and the Pyrenees, as well as a great deal of time spent hunting in my native Normandy. I will not slow you down, and may indeed be of great use to you in the field! I understand that Pam may have suffered a head injury, a malady I am currently well-versed in, as you know. Her survival may depend on my intervention at the earliest moment possible! Additionally, I am the only one of us who speaks French, in the case that we need to question or parley with these ruffians, you will need me as a translator! Therefore, I am coming with you, good sir, and if you still disagree, let me just say that I am also a friend to Pam Miller. She has treated me with great kindness, and honored me with her trust." Durand's face was a portrait of sincere determination, it was plain that leaving him behind would not be easy.