Page 77 of The Swan Syndicate
He knew this mission would go bad. But why would Cheval want Stella? How did he even know about her?
He hadn’t heard Lando approach and startled when the big man laid a hand on his shoulder.
“You need to remain focused on the mission. This is no time for mistakes.”
He nodded, unable to find the proper words for a response. Then he climbed, allowing each breath of sea air to soothe him and clear his head. When he reached the nest, he tapped the sailor. He thought the lad’s name was Stephen.
Stephen jumped and turned, surprised to see Beckworth. “My shift just started.”
“Captain’s orders. I’ll take the glasses. You’re needed on the lines.”
Stephen handed him the glasses as soon as he climbed in. “The ship is straight ahead. Based on the set of the sails, they appear to be turning to their port side, but they need to get beyond the rocks on the point. They might continue straight for Ireland, but word on the ship is that they’ll sail along the coast and disappear into a cove.”
“Understood. Thanks, mate.” Beckworth waited for the lad to start his descent then brought the glasses up to find his mark. Sure enough. The ship was set to change course.
Hold on, Stella. We’re coming for you.
25
Nails. Someone was pounding nails into her head. It seemed familiar.
Stella didn’t want to open her eyes. Before her brain could overrule the action, the signal most likely blocked by the sound of the hammer hitting home, she pried one open.
Darkness.
She waited. Nothing changed. The blackness was complete. Not a single ounce of light.
The atrocious stink attacked her senses, and she forgot all about the intense headache. Urine and fecal scents were the first to hit, followed closely by the rot of dead fish. But what made her gag was the sickly sweet scent of a spice she couldn’t name that wove through the other acrid smells.
Her first thought was that she was in an alley. Maybe behind the inn or a pub. If that were true, there should be more light.
The rest of her senses rushed in. The sway of a ship battling waves. The creak of wood rebelling against such rough handling.
Giving up on where she was, she tried to remember what happened.
When she considered the question, the throbbing returned with a debilitating tempo.
A door creaked open.
A startling bright light forced her to slam her lids shut. The pain would have brought her to her knees if she hadn’t already been sitting.
“Hello, pretty lady.” The voice was English and gave her a cold chill.
A rough hand ran over her hair. “You must be thirsty. Drink some water.”
Without opening her eyes, she felt the metal lip of the mug and tasted the cool water as it ran into her mouth, and she felt the chill as it spilled onto her chin and down her neck. She’d taken two swallows before the sweet scent sounded an alarm as the bitter taste brought back her gag reflexes.
“If the captain wasn’t saving you for himself, we could have some fun. But he doesn’t trust you and prefers you sleep.”
His body pressed into hers, and she stifled a groan.
The pain in her head receded, and a light euphoria chased away the anxiety as the deep darkness returned.
Several hours had passed since leaving port. Beckworth leaned against the railing as theDaphneplowed into the sea in its dogged pursuit ofThe Horseman, nothing but a dot of light in the darkened skies. Soft raindrops struck his face and mixed with salty spray each time the bow struck another wave.
He raged against their inability to overtake the ship. Cheval had gotten ahead of them, but Jamie assured Beckworth they’d catch up, it was just a matter of time.
But how much time did Stella have? Was she already gone?
