‘Well?’ McTiernan was there as they climbed the ladder up to the main deck. Clemence clenched her hands on the wooden rungs, her head just below the soles of Nathan’s shoes as the cold voice sliced away what remained of the warm glow inside her. ‘What did you see?’
Nathan finished his climb, swung his leg over the side and dropped to the deck before he answered, turning away with McTiernan and leaving her to scramble up unaided and mercifully unregarded.
‘The frigate’s still there, helping the merchantman with its rigging. It’s got no boats out, they haven’t swung their cutter over to go exploring. My guess is that they think we’re long gone.’ Nathan produced his notebook, opening it up to show something to the captain.
‘Those two islets? Yes, what about them?’
‘From up high you can see there’s a shallow sand-bar between them, but you can’t detect it on the surface and the Admiralty charts don’t show it, either. No rocks or coral heads and there’s deep water either side. If we can get our angle of attack right, we ought to be able to drive a ship on to that and board it at our leisure. No need to pound it to bits and you can kedge it off again undamaged when you are ready.’
‘Show me on the chart.’ Clemence went and leaned on the mast on the far side, pretending to pick her teeth with a wood splinter. ‘Aye…’ McTiernan was nodding, she could see his shadow ‘…now that’s a nice, tidy scheme, Mr Stanier.’
‘I suggest you get skiffs out, harry the ship from both sides to drive it, otherwise there’s too much sea for it to escape into,’ Nathan continued.
Sick, Clemence pushed away from the mast and went to the galley which seemed, just now, like sanctuary. And she had started to believe that Nathan was a good man at heart, that he might be on the side of the angels—even if only for the thought of the reward.
McTiernan might be a pirate, but at least he wasn’t twofaced. Nathan had absolutely no need to have put that strategy to the captain. McTiernan would have been quite happy with a report on the frigate. His only motive could have been to ingratiate himself, and, presumably, to share in the plunder until such time he could find an opportunity to betray this ship with some chance of escaping with a whole skin.
How could her instincts be so at fault? How could she have this bone-deep certainty that he was not all he seemed, when every time she let herself believe in him, he did something that proved her wrong?
‘Look where you’re going, boy!’ She skipped back just in time to avoid the two men with the slop buckets of swill for the prisoners below. One of them dropped a cloth holding ship’s biscuits and swore.
‘I’ll bring them, you’ve got your hands full.’ She snatched up the bundle and fell in behind them, heart thudding. Now she would discover where the men were kept, perhaps see the door opened, catch a glimpse so she could assess their condition.
Down they went, down again, the decks becoming lower, the light from lanterns less bright, the stench of the bilges stronger. Finally the men grounded their pails and one lifted a key on a chain from a hook.
‘What the—?’ The foul language swept over Clemence, made worse somehow by the icy calm with which the rant was delivered.
‘I was just helping, Cap’n,’ she stammered when McTiernan was finally silent. Behind him, on the lowest step of the companionway, she could see Nathan’s shadowy form.
‘If I catch you down here again, brat, I’ll have the flesh off your back. You hear me?’
‘Yessir.’
‘And that goes for anyone I don’t tell to come here. Anyone. Is that clear?’
‘Yessir.’
‘Then get the hell out of here.’ She tried to slide past him, but he lashed out at her as she did so, sending her into the bulkhead as though she weighed nothing. Clemence bounced off and into Nathan who grabbed her, none too gently.
He shoved her on to the steps. ‘Idiot boy.’ Clemence stumbled up, her head spinning, until they reached the deck where their cabin was. Nathan took her ear and dragged her towards it, keeping up a stream of angry reproof. ‘You do as the captain says, always, do you hear me? Or you’ll feel my fist even before he gets to you.’
The shove he gave her sent her sprawling onto his bunk as he slammed the door. Clemence tried to rub as many painful spots as she could at once—ear, head, shoulder—and glowered at Nathan.
‘Ow!’
‘Serves you right.’ He leaned back against the door panels and regarded her with a look that held everything of the angry ship’s officer and absolutely nothing of the tender man from the pool. ‘Just what did you hope to achieve with that ridiculous start?’
‘To see how the men were secured, whether they were chained up or free inside the hold, how many there are and if I knew any of them.’
‘That would have been helpful if they recognised you—good day, Miss Clemence,’ Nathan mimicked savagely. ‘Even the dimmest member of the crew is going to suspect something if their captives started falling on your neck with happy cries of recognition.’
‘It was so dark down there, you could hardly see, and anyway, they would never dream it was me,’ she retorted. ‘If we get into a fight, I was going to slip down and let them out. At best, they could attack the crew, at worst they wouldn’t be trapped down there if we are holed.’
‘Brilliant,’ Nathan said.
‘Thank you.’ At last, he realises that I am capable of doing something to help.
‘Brilliant, if you want to end up dead,’ he continued grimly, ‘You are not dealing with your uncle here, you are dealing with a murderous, insane, cunning, suspicious brute and you will give me your word you will not set foot on any deck below this one.’