Page 24 of The Moonstone Major
“Fair enough, Guv.” Ducky reached out a dirty hand for Fionn to shake. “Muskrat and Squirrel are still on the streets. I’ll enlist their help. Will ye promise jobs for ’em, too?”
“Yes,” Fionn said, for they were part of his motley band of urchin thieves and he did not have the heart to let them down. “Same terms.”
“Ye have yerself a deal. They’ll be most appreciative.” Ducky laughed. “See, I know some of ’em big words. Life on the street is hard, and to tell ye the truth, we’re all weary of it.”
Fionn turned to Constable Angel. “Will you agree to set him free? I know it is asking a lot of you, but…”
“Blister it, how can I? As constable, it is my duty to see him properly tried and punished.”
Fionn cleared his throat. “It would not be your fault if he escaped.”
“Oh,” the constable said with a groan. “I’ll be done for if word gets out. All right. For you, Major Brennan. I’ll turn my back as the wretch breaks out.” He cast Ducky a stern look. “Do you think you can do it on your own? I cannot lift a finger to help you.”
“Course I can. Ye needn’t bother to do a thing. I’ll be off right after dark.” Ducky turned back to Fionn, his dirty hand still outstretched. “Are we all right, Guv?”
Fionn shook the little weasel’s hand. “Do not betray my trust in you, Ducky.”
“Never, Guv. Ye did right by us and stayed loyal. We owe ye no less.”
Guv was the name he used to be called in the days before Viscount Brennan came along and rescued him. It was short for Governor, for even at his young age he had shown leadership qualities. The street urchins used to follow him despite his never wanting to lead them. But they, including himself, had all been very young and in need of protection.
He was tallest and strongest, and probably smartest. So, he’d taken it upon himself to protect them as best he could.
Even once under Viscount Brennan’s care, he took time to send them old clothes and whatever scraps of food the scullery maids were about to toss out. It was far from perfect, but for those who had nothing, it was a gift from heaven.
“Well, I suppose that solves this investigation,” Fionn muttered, now heading back to the fort with the constable at his side.
They had yet to cross the street before they heard a clanging sound from Ducky’s cell. In the next moment, they saw Ducky take off like a shot out of town. Indeed, he was out of sight in the blink of an eye.
He had managed to disappear so adeptly that Fionn suddenly wondered if the rogue had purposely allowed himself to be caught. While they questioned him, the little weasel also got the chance to see him up close and decide whether he wanted to shove a knife into Fionn’s ribs or assist him.
Good thing he had decided to assist.
But what could the Brennan family possibly want to hide from him?
Constable Angel asked him the same question.
“Truly, I have no idea.”
“Bother it,” the constable muttered. “He said he would wait until dark to escape.”
Fionn sighed. “I know, but he isn’t too good at keeping to his word. Probably eager to get started now that he knows I was their target.”
Yes, Ducky’s word was a loose thing. Sometimes given and held to, but not usually. However, Fionn knew all his former friends would never turn on him. Nor would they ever renege on a promise to keep their sticky hands inside their pockets and not steal from anyone in Moonstone Landing.
While the constable pretended to chase after Ducky, Fionn returned to his office to finalize preparations for the start of construction.
He worked for several hours, and after a short respite for a quick meal, returned to his plans and sketches. The construction supplies had also been arriving over the course of the past week, including the needed supply of nails and beams.
He strode into the courtyard to help unload several wagons piled full of materials as they drew up. “Stack those beams in the stable.”
He had decided to use the fort’s stable as a storage warehouse, and weeks ago had made arrangements with Thaddius Angel, owner of the Kestrel Inn, to lodge the army horses in the inn’s stable under the care of their ostler. Mr. Matchett was an unmitigated snoop, but he knew how to handle horses, and Fionn knew they would be in the best care.
The men under his charge began hauling the beams into the cleared-out structure. Fionn soon joined in the effort.
An officer in his position was not required to do more than supervise, but he enjoyed the physical effort, and his men worked better when they saw him put his shoulder to the heavy lifting along with them.
Now that the needed materials were arriving, he was eager for the actual work to commence.
