"At ease, Tris," Zach called out.
"Is that you, Cap'n?" The man on watch aboard theRevengesquinted into the glow of light from the lantern, relief flooding his face.
"Aye," Zach acknowledged as he reached for the railing and stepped down onto the deck. The sights, sounds, and smells were dearly familiar to him.
This was theRevenge.The gentle roll of her deck, the creaking of mooring ropes, the slap of water against her hull reminded him of who he was. In the last days, he'd almost forgotten.
But something wasn't right. The light from the lantern pooled across boxes and crates of supplies to be stored in the hold, scattered across the deck, splintered open, their contents spilling across planking. A rope from the rigging was slashed, its frayed ends dangled.
"What happened here?" he demanded as he crossed the deck, then came back. Barrels of fresh water were smashed. Sacks of grain, beans and flour were cut open their contents making lumpy masses in combination with the water. He whirled on the night watchman.
"They came at us from seaward, sir." He jerked his head to the opposite side of the ship. "Must've been two dozen or so, and they were armed. They were after the cargo and cut down anyone who got in their way. But we gave 'em a good fight, sir. We put at least a dozen or so overboard. Some preferred to jump." The man stroked the wooden spar that was crusted with dried blood.
"There's a good many won't be returnin' home tonight, or any night for that matter."
Zach frowned. What he saw wasn't cargo, but damage left behind as others had searched for it. "There was no cargo still aboard... What of the warehouse?"
"They hit the warehouse after they were here. We tried to warn Sandy and the others, but we were too late."
"The wool?" Zach's expression hardened as the anger came. It wasn't the wool he cared about. It had been only a disguise for what was hidden deep inside several specially marked bales, and the only ones who'd known about the gold hidden inside were himself, Tobias, and Sandy. Neither man would betray him, he'd bet his life on it.
The seaman nodded. "Seems they weren't after the wool at all. They set fire to several bales, then tore open the rest."
Zach cursed. While he'd been in the country playing social games with Barrington, the man had been clever and had struck first. Barrington had been stalling, keeping him away from London long enough to steal the gold.
The money will be paid as soon as my man has the gold.Barrington's words rang in his ears. Without the gold, the draft was worthless. That had been Barrington's game all along.
He had to have time to think of an effective counterattack. "What about the men?"
"A few injuries. Nothing that won't heal."
"Have you heard from Tobias?"
"We sent word round to the house. Mr. Gentry got here right away. He's in your cabin, sir."
"Good." Zach turned toward the gangplank. He intended to talk to Sandy, to find out if there was any hope of finding the men who'd attacked the warehouse.
"And there's the man we got down below." Tris informed him matter-of-factly.
Zach turned. "What man?"
The seaman grinned, his smile crooked in the roundness of his badly swollen and bruised face.
"He doesn't talk much. A big giant of a fella. But he seemed to be the leader. I had him taken below. I thought you might want to ask him a few questions." The bruised smile deepened.
The light in Zach's eyes darkened to something deadly. "Very much so. Send word to the warehouse. I want to see Sandy as soon as he comes aboard." He turned and went below. He would have his answers, and he'd have his gold. Then he would repay Barrington several times over.
Zach called out in response to the knock on his cabin door as Tobias sat, red-eyed, in a chair beside his desk. The second mate came in and stood silently before him.
"I've got men searching every street and back alley of London right now, sir. We'll get your cargo back." Determination gleamed in the man's visible eye. The other one was no more than a white slit in a mass of bruises.
"I hope you gave them equal to what you got," Zach observed, pouring a full glass of brandy and shoving it across the desk to his man.
Sandy eyed him skeptically, then took the drink, tossing it back in one quick motion. "That we did, sir."
Zach nodded. Sandy had been with him for a long time. He was the best there was. He would keep his promise. "What is the damage to the ship?"
"Very little, sir; a few broken crates and smashed barrels. There was some riggin' lines cut. Nothing that can't be set right and ready to sail."
