The Daredevil Snared (The Adventurers Quartet Book 3) (18 page)

“Yes.” Caleb nodded. So did Hillsythe and Dixon. Caleb looked around the circle. “Any suggestions of ways to slow things down that Dubois will accept?”

People glanced at each other.

Katherine hesitated, then said, “It’s not the actual mining, but this might have the same effect. What about our hammers and chisels?” She looked at the other five women. “We’ve been using the same ones since we got here. Surely some chisels must be blunt by now? And the hammers—the heads might come loose from the handles.”

From across the circle, Caleb grinned. “That’s the sort of thinking we need. It doesn’t have to be something that affects the mining itself, as long as it allows us to keep the amount of diamonds that get carried out of the compound to a level that’s just barely acceptable.”

Several of the girls who worked on the sorting piles suggested that they could easily create another stockpile by hiding some of the ore they would otherwise send on to the cleaning shed. Someone else suggested breaking some of the lanterns used to light the tunnels. Another pointed out that although they now had more men, they had yet to get more picks and shovels; until more arrived, even if the second tunnel was opened, the actual mining could only go so fast.

“All excellent suggestions.” Caleb looked past Hillsythe at Dixon. “Captain Dixon knows more about the mining process than anyone else.” Caleb arched his brows at Dixon. “If I could suggest, Dixon, that you continue to ‘manage’ the production? And if anyone thinks of further suggestions, they should bring them to you, and that the rest of us should leave it to you to coordinate any happenings, so to speak.” He glanced around the circle, inviting everyone to agree. “We don’t want to have too many things happen at once, and by the same token, we need anything we do to have the maximum—best for us—impact, and the effect of any particular action might change as we mine further.” Returning his gaze to Dixon, he arched a brow.

Dixon looked grateful. He nodded. “I’m happy to take charge of that.”

Katherine saw Hillsythe cast a penetrating—assessing and approving—look at Caleb.

Caleb felt Hillsythe’s gaze; he turned his head and met the man’s eyes.

Hillsythe hesitated, then murmured, “That was well done. A wise and sensible move.”

Caleb grinned. “Unlike Royd, I have no difficulty sharing command.”

Hillsythe snorted in an effort to smother his laugh.

Still grinning, Caleb looked back at the faces lining the circle. “I’m increasingly impressed by how cohesive your company already is. That makes working together much easier.”

Hillsythe’s expression sobered. “Shared burdens, shared enemies. Both bind men—and women and even children—together.”

Caleb nodded. Raising his voice a fraction—enough to be heard around the circle, but nowhere near strong enough to carry to the nearest guards on the barracks’ porch—he said, “There’s one other thing we all need to put our minds to.” Talk ebbed; when everyone was looking expectantly at him, he went on, “Lascelle and I realized this a few days ago, when we viewed the compound from a rock ledge toward the top of the hill behind us. Seeing the compound from above made it clear that there’s no obvious point of attack—no real strategic weakness. The palisade and the gates are sound.” He looked around the circle. “For a rescue to have any chance of succeeding without massive casualties within the compound, we’re going to need a diversion inside the palisade. Something big and effective—sufficient to claim Dubois’s attention and that of all the guards.”

“And it would be best,” Phillipe put in, “if this diversion did not, initially, appear to be part of any attack. So preferably, it needs to look like an accident.”

Sober now, Caleb nodded. “We know what this diversion needs to do, but we’ve yet to come up with any notion that might work.”

Frowns now ringed the circle; the announcement had brought everyone back to earth.

Suddenly, one of the guards in the tower called down to those on the barracks’ porch; exactly what was said wasn’t clear. In the porch’s shadows, the two mercenaries stirred, then stepped down to the compound’s forecourt and loped toward the gate. On reaching the now-barred gates, the guards spoke—presumably to whoever was on the other side—then, satisfied by whatever response they’d received, the guards unbarred the gates and swung them open.

Four of their fellows tramped through.

Hillsythe leaned toward Caleb. “That’s Cripps—Dubois’s second lieutenant—in the lead. Dubois sent him to see what was going on with Kale.”

His gaze on the burly mercenary, Caleb nodded.

The guards on the gates shut and barred them again, then fell in behind Cripps and his party.

The captives watched without comment until the small troop followed Cripps into the barracks, and the guards resumed their positions on the porch. Caleb noticed the flare of a lamp being lit in the window along the side of the mercenaries’ hut; from what he’d gathered from Katherine, the lamp sat on Dubois’s desk.

Gradually, all the captives turned back to the fire pit, to the small fire that was dying to red embers within the central hearth. From the looks on most faces, everyone was retreading their earlier conversation about the need for a diversion—something Cripps and his men’s arrival had underscored.

Eventually, Hopkins caught Caleb’s eye. “We’ve a month to come up with something effective before any rescue force can reach us.”

Caleb inclined his head. “True.” He allowed his voice to take on a steely note. “But we need to have our diversion worked out and everything in place before they do.”

* * *

Dubois had been leaning against his desk in relative darkness, the better to observe the captives about the fire pit. Not that he’d seen anything to alert him; he’d expected the young captain to be the center of attention. No doubt the young man was responding to questions and describing the world beyond the jungle. Dubois would have preferred that the newcomers not reawaken thoughts of life before the compound in the minds of those already there. However, he considered that inevitable, and he felt more than confident enough of his hold on his captives—his hold
over
his captives—to shrug the point aside.

Especially when the young captain had brought a crew of sixteen hale and hearty men with him.

Smiling at the thought of Fate’s beneficence, as Cripps had entered the building, Dubois had quit the window and the view and moved to light the lamp on his desk.

He’d wanted light by which to read Cripps’s face, to glean everything he could about Kale’s odd behavior. Sinking into the chair behind the desk, he fixed his gaze on Cripps as his lieutenant drew himself up in an approximation of attention. “What did you find?”

Arsene came ambling up to halt to one side of the desk; he, too, fixed his gaze on Cripps.

Cripps returned Dubois’s regard, but deferentially. “As near as we could make out, Kale and his men have done a bunk. They’ve disappeared.”

Dubois limited his frown to his eyes. “Define ‘disappeared.’”

“There was nothing at their camp. The place looked like they’d tidied up and cleared off. No sign anyone’s been there for days—perhaps not for a week.”

Dubois exchanged a glance with Arsene, then looked back at Cripps. “Had they left in a rush?”

Cripps shook his head. “Didn’t look like it. All nice and neat.”

“No sign of any fight?” Arsene asked.

“No.” Cripps paused, then said, “It looked to us all as if Kale and company had packed their bags and walked off. Back to the settlement, most like.”

Dubois tapped his finger on the desk. “Why would Kale up and leave? What would induce a man like him to walk away from steady employment?”

“More money,” Arsene promptly replied.

Cripps nodded. “That was my thought, too.”

Arsene sniffed. “Kale always was an unreliable bastard, and his men, especially those in the settlement, had been growing restless because those calling the shots had given them so little to do in recent weeks. So few people to seize.”

Dubois nodded. “Kale was being paid by the person, delivered to us here, so I can sympathize with his predicament.”

Arsene shrugged. “So someone made him a better offer—”

“Or he learned of some action where he and his men could make more.” Cripps gestured in a what-can-you-expect fashion. “So off he’s gorn.”

Slowly, Dubois nodded. “I agree that’s the most likely scenario.” But was it the right one? Instinct skittered, not exactly pricking but uneasy; what were the odds of Kale disappearing and the young captain and his crew turning up outside the walls within a week?

Dubois quashed the impulse to turn and stare out of the window at the group still no doubt gathered about the fire pit. It had to be coincidence. Kale wouldn’t have been driven off by the captain and his crew; indeed, if Kale had found them lurking in the jungle, Kale would have captured them and brought them to the mine.

The young captain’s reactions were far too slow for him—or any of his men, who presumably would be no better than he—to have faced Kale and won. Even Dubois had a healthy respect for the slaver’s skill with a sword.

No—there were no grounds on which to make any connection between the sailors’ arrival and Kale vanishing. The latter would have been Kale’s decision.

Dubois focused on what came next. “With Kale gone...” He narrowed his eyes. “As we’ve managed to secure enough men to meet our needs without Kale’s help, we no longer need his particular expertise. The only additional difficulty his disappearance leaves us facing is the collection and delivery of our mining supplies.”

Dubois looked at Arsene, then at Cripps. Then he leaned back in his chair. “We’re not going to wait to see if Kale returns. As far as I’m concerned, he’s dealt himself out of this scheme, and we’ll proceed on the assumption he won’t be back. But now that we have our extra men and Dixon is ready to open up the second tunnel, we need more picks, shovels, and a lot more nails, and whatever else Dixon has on his list.” He paused, then went on, “The last I heard from those in the settlement, they were pressing hard for us to increase production to appease their backers. I gather there was a degree of urgency involved.”

He smiled coldly. “Given that urgency, when we tell them what they need to do—the equipment they must provide and the extra money they’ll need to pay—no doubt they’ll swiftly oblige.” He looked at Arsene. “Take four men and go into the settlement by our usual route. There’s no point using the route via Kale’s camp—it’s longer, and we don’t need to waste the extra hours.”

Arsene came to attention. “And once in the settlement?”

Eyes narrowing, Dubois debated, then said, “As we discussed, contact Winton at the fort, but only if you can do so discreetly. If you can’t reach him, then speak with Muldoon—you know where to find him. Whoever you speak with, get them to arrange to have the supplies Dixon’s requested—” Dubois broke off and flipped through a stack of papers. He withdrew one, glanced at it, then handed the sheet to Arsene. “That’s Dixon’s latest list. Tell Winton or Muldoon that if they want more diamonds for their precious backers, they need to have everything on that list delivered to you at our usual haunt as soon as humanly possible, along with an extra cash payment—the usual amount for our trouble. As soon as you have everything, return here.”

Arsene hesitated, then said, “I know I asked before, but now that things have changed, if for some reason I can’t get hold of Muldoon or Winton, should I approach our man in the governor’s office?”

Dubois considered briefly, then shook his head. “No. Not at this point. He remains the hardest to approach covertly and...” Dubois grimaced. “Given the mounting urgency from the backers, given that Fate has sent us the men we need to meet their demands, then experience suggests that if anything’s going to go wrong, now is the time. And if anything unexpected occurs, we need that gentleman in the governor’s office to alert us to any impending threat. He’s also in the best position to deflect any threat, at least long enough for us to learn of it and cover our tracks.” Dubois met Arsene’s gaze. “So no—don’t risk tapping him on the shoulder.”

Arsene nodded, accepting the edict. “If we can get the supplies and cash in good time, we should be back in five days.”

* * *

The next morning, Caleb, Phillipe, and their men gathered about the fire pit with the other captives to indulge in a breakfast of what appeared to be ship’s biscuits and tea. The children were served bowls of thin gruel, which they devoured with indecent haste and unwavering attention.

Sipping hot tea from a tin mug, Caleb watched Katherine Fortescue and the other women. They’d sat together as they had the previous evening, heads close as they animatedly discussed what he gathered were the suggestions for delay that they planned to pass on to Dixon.

He glanced at the other men, many of whom also had their heads together, quietly talking. Reviewing the conversations he’d overheard the previous night while they’d rested surprisingly comfortably in hammocks strung between the poles that held up the roof of the men’s hut, Caleb murmured to Phillipe, “It appears we negotiated the reversal of yesterday reasonably well. Everyone’s focused on what comes next.”

Phillipe’s lips curved. Sipping from his mug, he met Caleb’s eyes. Lowering the mug, still smiling, he murmured back, “I never doubted it would be so. It’s your special skill.”

Caleb blinked. “It is?”

His question was entirely serious, but before he could pursue an answer, Dixon, Fanshawe, Hopkins, and Hillsythe joined them. Two sat on either side of Caleb and Phillipe and sipped from their mugs, then Dixon said, “I told Dubois several mornings ago that we were ready to begin properly constructing the second tunnel. I’ve had the carpenters framing the entrance, but we’ll soon run out of timber, bracing, and nails. Meanwhile, as someone pointed out last night, we don’t have enough pickaxes and shovels to increase the number of men wielding them.”

Dixon looked toward the barracks. “I usually consult with Dubois every morning. As I suggested last night, I’m going to tell him that I could best use you and your men in opening up the second tunnel—he’s keen to see that happen. However, until he provides more picks and shovels, he’s going to have to make a choice—do we use the tools for mining diamonds from the first tunnel or to dig out the second tunnel so we can subsequently mine the second deposit?”