Isle of Swords (17 page)

“Enough!” The commodore's rage spilled over. “Tell me where

Thorne is!”

“Thorne?” Anne echoed.

“Bartholomew Thorne!! This was his hidden camp. You must know where he has gone!”

Anne chose her words carefully. “I know who Bartholomew Thorne is, but we aren't part of his crew. We came to Dominica for supplies.”

“Then how did you know about this place?” Commodore Blake threw up his hands. “This is pointless. You had your chance. Mister Crowley, put the lad in manacles and leg irons.”

“Yes, sir.” Crowley hesitated. “Uh, what about the girl?”

“Have you not yet learned my customs? No, so long as she remains ladylike, we will let her walk with us unbound.”

Another man, dressed similarly to the commodore but with quite a bit less gold on his lapels, leaned over and said to the commodore, “Sir Brandon, are you sure that's wise? She seemed awfully willing to raise a sword.”

“Wise or not, Sir Nigel, we will allow her to walk unbound,” the commodore replied. “But to be sure she will not escape, why don't you walk behind her. Mister Crowley will walk in front. With two such capable escorts, we have very little to fear from this young lady.”

18
A CORAL TIGER

W
here are you taking us?” Anne asked. The British troops under Commodore Blake's command had completed their search of the abandoned town and now walked briskly along a wide path through the dark Dominican forest.

“To Misson,” replied Sir Nigel from behind. “There are a few people there the commodore would like to question. Plus, there's a nice little cell where we can put you two for a bit.”

Misson?
Anne cringed inwardly. It just kept getting worse. A fleet of British ships would soon be hunting the southern ports, cutting off the
Wallace
's escape. And now hundreds and hundreds of British troops were about to descend upon the town where her father and many of the crew were shopping for supplies. She looked up at the moon through the canopy of trees. She had no idea how late it was or if her father was still in Misson. Still, what could she do? They'd taken her sword. They'd taken her dagger. Cat was chained at the wrists and ankles. And she was surrounded on all sides by numerous soldiers. She needed a plan.

Anne glanced back at Cat. Their eyes met for just a moment. “Face the front, my lady,” said Sir Nigel, each word coated with contempt. Anne looked away. She began fingering the coral tiger hung from her necklace. Their caravan began to slow a little. Anne looked ahead and saw why. The path narrowed, forcing the ranks of soldiers to thin at the bottleneck. Anne looked back at Cat again, wishing she could ask him what he thought.

“I said, FACE FRONT!” Sir Nigel waved his torch in Anne's face. She flinched back and did as she was told. Lieutenant Crowley looked back over his shoulder and laughed. That made Anne furious. She squeezed her coral tiger so hard that the jagged edge at the bottom of the carving pricked her finger. She put her finger in her mouth and tasted blood. . . .

Blood. The plan came together in a rush. Anne looked again at the steadily narrowing path. It was so tight, the troops had to walk through single file. In a few moments, the group of soldiers near her, including Crowley, Cat, and Sir Nigel, would all have to line up to pass through.

Anne again looked up at the moon through the canopy of trees. She had always had a very good sense of direction. She was fairly certain that they had been traveling northeast for almost the entire hour since they'd left the town. That would mean the path back to the
Wallace
was off to the right. She thought of Cat. If her plan were to work, it had to happen fast—with the element of surprise. There would be no time to free Cat from his bonds. And with those chains on, there was no way for him to run. There was no choice. She'd have to leave him.

At last, they came to the bottleneck in the path. As she figured, the soldiers in front and behind narrowed to single file. Anne waited until dozens filed in behind them, and they were all hemmed in on both sides by the lush forest. Slowly she pulled the coral tiger from the necklace. She held it firmly in her fist with the jagged point sticking out like a very small dagger. She looked back over her shoulder at Cat, defying Sir Nigel and hoping to arouse his anger. When Cat looked up, she mouthed, “I'm sorry.” He looked at her questioningly.

“Here now!” Sir Nigel growled. “I thought I told you to— keep—your—eyes—forward!” He started to lift his torch like before, but Anne surprised him. She kicked backward with her left foot, pushing the torch toward Sir Nigel's chest. The flames leaped up his beard. He howled. Lt. Crowley turned around again, but Anne was already moving. She planted the sharp coral into his upper thigh. He cursed and clutched his leg. Anne disappeared between two large trees and fled into the forest.

“Come back here!” Sir Nigel bellowed, still patting out the flames from his beard and chest. Several soldiers opened fire, but they had been walking in the torches' light. Their night vision was gone. Anne instantly faded into the darkness of the forest.

“Don't waste another shot!” someone shouted from far up the line. “After her!”

By the time the troops stopped shooting and raced into the woods, Anne had a huge head start. But she had to be careful. Her night vision wasn't much better than theirs, since she too had been staring at torches. And the footing was horrible. If she ran into a tree or fell into a ditch, it would all be for nothing. As her eyes adjusted, she made a sharp right turn and ran as fast as she could through the branches, brambles, and bracken. After careening recklessly through the forest without stopping for what seemed like an eternity, Anne froze in place. She waited for her heart to stop pounding and listened intently to see if anyone was in pursuit. The only noises she heard were the welcome sounds of the tropical forest at night.

The forest flew by in a grayish blue blur. Anne found herself bounding over stumps, roots, and fallen logs. Her legs burned from the exertion. Suddenly, she burst through a row of feathery ferns and landed in a narrow hollow. She stopped herself just before she would have smacked into a gnarled tree root that protruded from the bank of the hollow.

The path! It had to be. In the pale light, she saw a well-trodden passage snaking its way through the forest. Anne turned around, wondering if she'd thought things through well enough. To turn right would take her south to the
Wallace
, her original plan. She had to get to the ship to warn them about the British convoy so that they could—do what? Put to sea to escape the coming trap? But she knew they would not set sail if her father and the landing party had not yet returned from Misson. To turn left would take her to Misson. If her father was still there, he needed to be warned. But it was too late for that, wasn't it? Anne knew she could never get there before Commodore Blake and his British troops. And what if she ran all that way only to discover her father had already returned to the
Wallace
. How would she attempt to rescue Cat? Anne couldn't keep all the possibilities straight in her head.

She sighed and turned to the right. She needed to get to the ship.

Someone on the
Wallace
would know what to do. As she began to run south on the path, her stomach churned. Her little excursion plan for Cat had become a disaster. And one way or the other, she knew that it was all her fault. She just hoped that Cat wouldn't pay for her foolishness with his life. That fear in mind, Anne drove herself down the path. In the dark, she had no idea how far away the

Wallace
was. She stumble-stepped most of the way, stopping once to catch her breath. Then something flickered up ahead.

Anne skidded to a stop and crouched. The path wound like an “S” in front of her, and at the top of it, around the second curve, torches appeared. Ten, twelve maybe. Anne froze. Could Commodore Blake have guessed her intentions? Had he sent a regiment south to cut her off from the main path?

Anne saw them approach the first curve. She needed to get off the path and fast. She looked up. No climbable trees near enough.

She could see there were at least a dozen or more. Not knowing what else to do, she dove off the path into the foliage and hid.

They spoke in hushed voices as they approached. Anne ducked, practically lying facedown on a bed of dirt and dead leaves. She peeked up through the leaves. The torches were passing by. She couldn't see if they were wearing uniforms, but they were definitely armed. Torchlight illuminated the barrels of several muskets. They continued to pass, and Anne thanked her lucky stars. She had thanked them too soon.

Something grabbed her by the wide leather belt she wore and lifted her clean out of the bushes. A rumbling deep voice said, “I found her, sir!”

19
ROSS'S PLAN

Y
ou have a bad habit of running off, Red,” the huge man said.

“Jules?” Anne couldn't believe it.

He hoisted her up, carried her like a handbag, and put her down lightly on the path . . . directly in front of her father. Even in the flickering light of the torch, she could see the vein bulging on his forehead, the tendons taut on his neck. Anne started to speak, but didn't even get out a syllable.

“You betrayed me, Anne,” Declan Ross said. “You betrayed us all.”

His words felt like knives. Tears started pouring down her cheeks. “Father, I didn't mean for—”

“Don't!” he said. “Your intentions do not matter here, Anne. You abandoned the ship. Some might even call it mutiny.” Anne cringed. She knew what the pirate's code said about mutiny.

Ross continued. “And you took Cat with you! Why do I feel so confident that this was all your idea?” His blazing eyes bored into her. “What kind of sense is that, daughter? He's a wounded man! You put his life in danger.” Ross looked into the woods behind her. “Where's he hiding anyway? Cat, you can come out now!” Declan called out into the forest. There was no answer.

“Where is he, Anne?” he asked.

Anne fell to her knees and sobbed so hard she choked. Her words came out between wet breaths and gasps. “I'm so sorry, Father.”

Some of Ross's ire melted away, and he knelt and lifted Anne's chin. “What happened?”

She told him all of it. From their discovery of the abandoned town to Commodore Blake's order to send his ships to scour the southern ports to their eventual capture. She even explained how Commodore Blake had refused to put chains and leg irons on her, treating her like a lady.