“As you will, Captain,” replied Celeste.
Hewitt brought gruel and fresh-made bread and a pot of tea, along with a daily ration of limes. As Chevell ladled porridge into the bowls, he said, “Princess, if we don’t see the raider by midmorn, I’ll have to break off the pursuit.” He held up a hand palm out to forestall her objections. “It merely means we cannot o’ertake the corsair before it reaches safe port in Brados. Yet even though we break off, I still plan on going after the map, but I would not have the lookout on Brados espy our ship, for that would put them on alert.” Chevell looked at Roel and smiled, and then turned back to Celeste.
“Instead, we’ll need use stealth and misdirection to get the map: Sieur Roel and I will free-climb the citadel walls in the night and retrieve the chart, while Armond and the crew provide a suitable diversion.” Celeste nodded and said, “And my role would be. .?”
“I would have you remain on the Eagle and be safe,” said Chevell.
Celeste looked at Roel, and he smiled. But she frowned and said, “Did you not tell him I can free-climb as well, cheri?”
Roel sighed. “Oui, I did.”
Celeste turned to Chevell and cocked an eyebrow.
“My lady, with but two of us, just Roel and me, we will likely go unnoticed, especially with the proper diversion.”
“Three is a small party as well, Captain,” said Celeste, “and just as likely to go unnoticed, with the proper diversion, that is.”
Now Chevell sighed and looked at Roel. “You said this is the way it would be.”
Roel nodded.
Celeste now turned an eye on Roel. “Plotting behind my back, love?”
“Celeste, I knew you would come, but the good captain insisted he make an attempt to dissuade you.”
“Blame it on me, would you?” said Chevell. Then he burst out laughing.
Soon all three were laughing, but finally Chevell retrieved the drawings and sketches he and Roel had pondered over. As he laid them before Celeste, he said,
“Very well, Princess, should the corsair escape us this morn, here be the plan so cleverly contrived by Roel; hence this be the way we three will go about retrieving the map.”
Midmorning came, and still the lookout had seen no corsair or ought else for that matter, but for a distant gam of whales blowing. And so Chevell, now adeck, altered course, setting the sails to come by circuitous route to the far side of the isle of Brados, where they would most likely not be seen. “Besides,” said the captain, “ ’tis there where lies beached a single-masted sloop we can pull free at high tide.” He turned to his first officer. “Armond, put Geoff to work on making sails for that craft. Her mast stands at some thirty-five or forty feet, her boom at twenty or so. A main and a jib ought to be enough.”
“Aye, aye, My Lord Captain.”
As Armond strode away, Celeste at the helm said,
“Will a small sloop be enough, Captain?”
“I should think so,” said Chevell. “It, along with part of the crew in the dinghies, should provide the distraction we need.” 138 / DENNIS L. MCKIERNAN
Celeste nodded and onward they sailed, the far side of Brados their immediate goal.
In midafternoon they dropped anchor in a small, narrow inlet, the isle itself a large and rocky upjut of land roughly circular and some five miles across, its craggy interior filled with scrub and twisted trees, though here and there groves of tall pines stood. The shoreline was nought more than a rocky shingle, sand absent for the most part, but for the root of the cove, there where a hull of a sloop lay on its side. Massive blocks of stone reared up along this part of the perimeter, and off to the right the brim of the cove was a long cliff of sheer rock rising up from the sea and curving away beyond sight.
Men lowered dinghies, and, leaving Armond and a small crew behind, the rest put to shore, Celeste and Roel among them. As they beached the boats, Chevell said, “Ensign Laval, take your part of the men and begin cutting brush and making the preparations we discussed. Lieutenant Florien, you and the rest will deal with the sloop. Princess, Chevalier, we’ve a long stroll ahead, but I know a path that will somewhat ease the way.”
Chevell and Celeste and Roel marked their faces and wrists-all exposed flesh-with streaks of burnt cork, and Celeste bound her pale golden hair and slipped on a dark hat to cover all, and then they donned cloaks as well. Finally, armed and armored, the trio shouldered rope and grapnels and climbing gear and set forth, the captain in the lead. And up into the craggy land they fared, the day warm and humid, the way rough in stretches, while at other places they passed through with surprising ease. Celeste found it strange to now be walking on a surface that did not pitch and roll, and it took her a while to lose her sea legs. Birds with bright plumage fluttered among the occasional grove, and lizards skittered across the way. Now and again a snake would slither off into the rocks, and once a boar stood as if to challenge them, but then fled through the crags.
“Pigs gone wild from those escaped from Brados Town,” said Chevell.
Perspiring, they stopped in the shade of a grove, the air redolent with the scent of the surrounding pines. As they sat on a log and took water, “How long were you a freebooter, Captain?” asked Celeste.
“In mortal terms, twelve years, Princess. About the same length of time I was a thief.”
“Did you capture many a ship?”
A frown of regret crossed Chevell’s features.
“Princess, I’d rather not think on those times, but yes, a goodly number fell to my crew.”
“I’m sorry, Captain. I did not mean to dredge up old memories.”
Chevell shrugged and turned up a hand. “There are things I’d rather forget.”
“As would I,” said Roel. “Deeds done in time of war.” A somber silence fell among them, and finally Chevell said, “Let’s go.” Once again they took up the trek, passing among the tall trees to come to a rocky way, and there they aided one another across the difficult stretch, clambering up and across and down, only to clamber up and across and down again.
Finally, as the sun touched the rim of the world, they reached an upland on the far side of the isle, the highland nought but a jumbled plateau of scrub and rock and trees. In the long shadows Chevell led them to a low ridge, and just ere reaching the crest, onto his belly he flopped, and then eased his way to the crown.
Following his example, Celeste and Roel did the same.
No more than a furlong downslope loomed a fortress of gray stone blocks, sitting atop a low rise jutting out from the fall of the land. On beyond and farther down, another half mile or so, stood a town, curving about a modest bay. Rover ships were moored in the dark waters, the cove enshadowed from the setting sun by the arc of the island shouldering up all ’round. As eve drew on in the dimness below, the trio could make out folk hurrying through the streets, and lights winked into being, and the music of a squeeze-box drifted on the air. It seemed to be quite a normal town and not a rover den.
As to the bastion itself, roughly square it was, an outer wall running ’round o’er the rough ground, some ten feet high and three hundred feet to a side and five feet thick at the top, wider at the base. “That wall is merely to slow invaders; it’s not a primary defense,” said Chevell, reminding them. “And though you can’t see it from here, there’s a gate along the starwise side. A road runs through and down a series of switchbacks to the town below.”
Between the outer bulwark ringing ’round and the main fortress itself, lay nought but open space, the land completely barren of growth. “A killing ground for any who win their way up the hill and breach the outer wall,” said Roel.
Centered within this outer wall and killing ground, the dark bastion itself stood: some fifty feet high to the banquette it was and also built in a square, two hundred feet to a side, with a great courtyard in the center, towers and turrets and a massive wall hemming the quadrangle in. “The main gate lies on the starwise side,” said Chevell, “but you can see a postern here on the sunwise bound. We, of course, will use neither.”