Three Ships

Chapter Five

"I'll decide who is a guest in my home and who is not."

Laura's father cocked the weapon to add emphasis. The click was crisp, unmistakable over the sound of the wind.

The face in the window disappeared into the blackness outside.

"Well, it wouldn't do to be too hasty now, would it?" ventured Blackwell in a conciliating voice, a little distance away. "I'll tell you what I'll do. My men will keep guard while you all get a very nice night's sleep."

"I'll tell you what we'll do," Laura's father continued. "One of your men has already made himself at home here, so we'll keep him as our guest overnight."

"Which one, Renten?"

"Smithy," the lieutenant answered.

There was a grunt, then the sound of murmured voices as though a consensus was being sought.

"All right, keep the zounderkite for the night," agreed Blackwell. "We'll parley in the morning. First light."

Over the sound of the wind, the sound of tramping feet could be heard leaving the courtyard.

Renten swiftly opened the windows and pulled the storm shutters closed over the now broken windows. He turned back to his hosts and folded his arms. His expression was grim.

"Mr Winter, Miss Winter – you have my apologies," he said. "Should you wish to toss me out, I wouldn't blame you."

"Don't be daft, young man," Laura's father scoffed. "So what are we going to do to sort these blighters out?"

Laura watched Renten consider her and her father for several long seconds and she realised she was still gripping the poker. Her father held the musket across his chest.

Then a broad smile spread over his face. Laura felt her spirits lighten immediately.

"Well," said the lieutenant, "with Smithy safely tucked away, there are twelve of them and three of us. I think the odds are in our favour."

He turned to Laura. "Miss Winter... Laura," he continued, "I suggest you get some sleep. It's going to be a long night."

Laura was prepared to argue when her father stepped in.

"The clockwork will need to be wound twice more before morning, dear girl, and I'll need to show thelieutenant the caves."

Renten looked intrigued. "Caves? Are they easy to find?"

Laura's father shook his head slowly and grinned. "They're not and no one knows the Rock better than me."

"It looks like I'm outnumbered, but you –" she said to Renten, poking his chest with a finger, "you make sure my father doesn't lead you into trouble."

He gifted her with a wink.

"I'm good at following orders... more or less."

***

As the beam of light swept around, Laura could see a schooner at anchor off the island. A small bonfire burned on the headland, highlighting four small tents. Earlier, she saw figures walking about but Blackwell was apparently being as good as his word.

As the night wore on and Laura wound the clockwork mechanism for the last time before dawn, the fire on the headland had burned down to glowing red coals.

She must have slept after that, with Whisky and Admiral curled up beside her, because she wasn't awakened by the pre dawn light but by an insistent knock on the door below.

"Miss Laura!" She recognised the lieutenant's voice. "Quick as you can. Join us downstairs."

Had she missed something? She straightened herself quickly and swiftly descended the spiral staircase. Her father was in the kitchen; the smell of cured ham and eggs along with the earthy pungent aroma of freshly fried mushrooms filled the room.