Unsure as to where they were, Liam followed the North Star as they rowed back to shore. Terribly tired from their fight on the Courted Anne, the crew of the rowboat made poor progress until the tide turned and pushed them towards the shore. The sun just started to rise when Liam caught the first signs of land. The few landmarks they could see upon their approach were unrecognizable, providing no real clue as to their distance from Marseille.
Liam aimed them towards a safe looking beach and let the surf shove them ashore. What gear they had was bundled up into bags as they struggled along the sand, finally seeing a small cottage with smoke rising from the chimney in the distance.
Claiming they survived a shipwreck, the owner readily accepted their rowboat in exchange for breakfast and directed them to a nearby road that led to Marseille.
“I can’t believe our plan worked,” Sean uttered after they had all boarded a wagon whose driver agreed to take them to Marseille on his way to the market.
“It wouldn’t have worked without our glorious ace in the hole,” Liam observed lazily as he shoved a piece of straw into his mouth.
“When did you get onboard?” Pierce asked Jane who had curled up beside him.
“As soon I heard the first two shots I knew something was wrong,” she recounted, staring calmly up at the sky. “I pulled our boat up to the ship and climbed up the same way you did. Peaking over the rail I saw Bufford confront you. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I figured you’d been found out and that eventually they’d search the ship and find everyone else. So I lowered myself down to one of the portholes and squeezed in through.”
“I saw her out of the corner of my eye after being found in the magazine,” Sean continued, still upset at being discovered. “I had a small barrel of gunpowder in my hands, but managed to motion her towards the crates as I was led away.”
“That’s right. I waited until the coast was clear and then picked up the barrel and a nearby rifle. I moved to the front of the ship where Sean had motioned, but I didn’t really know what I was looking for. I was about to place the barrel anywhere when I found the small lantern. The crates beside it were much more modern than any other in the ship, so I figured it must be the right place.”
“Clever and beautiful,” MacDuff mused in appreciation.
“So then I opened the barrel and made a trail of powder from the ladder by the hatch to the crates. I swapped the barrel for the lantern, doubled back to the hatch and then broke the lantern on the floor where the trail started. It lit up right away and I ran up the ladder.”
“Just in time to see Bufford point a loaded pistol at me,” Pierce finished for her, amazed by the luck of her timing.
“I was so shocked by the scene that I shot without really aiming,” Jane admitted truthfully.
“Now don’t be so modest. You aimed to wing him so that Lord Pierce could finish him off,” Liam corrected lightly. “The story sounds better that way.”
“Exactly,” MacDuff agreed swiftly. “Just like a good Hound of the Manor would have done. I daresay you have the talent for it as well.”
“You think I could? To be honest I’ve never been content being a mere housemaid. I’ve always wanted more,” Jane timidly wished out loud.
“Well you’re already an honorary member of the Brown Pack,” Pierce observed looking from Jane to MacDuff. “I’m sure something can be done.”
“I should think so,” MacDuff concurred gruffly. “Seeing as you helped the Master of the Manor escape imprisonment, saved the life of the Lord of the Brown Pack, and was a key part in defeating Colonel Bufford’s plans.”
Jane blushed slightly after hearing of her exploits listed with admiration by a battle hardened warrior like MacDuff. Leaning back against Pierce’s shoulder she smiled in contentment as the wagon bounced along the rutted road towards Marseille.
“Wine anyone?” Liam offered after taking a drink from a dark green bottle encased in woven straw.
“Where did you get that?” Sean asked grabbing it with childish enthusiasm and taking a big gulp before passing it onward.
“There’s a case under the straw here. Don’t look at me like that Duffy, I put a coin in its place as compensation.”
Everyone laughed as the bottle got passed around, the stress of their adventure slowly draining from their bodies. The remainder of the trip was spent in companionable silence as they took in their surroundings, with the steady clip-clop of the horse marking time. A cloudless day greeted them and by the time the sun had reached its zenith, the wagon had reached the outskirts of Marseille.
Unfamiliar with their route into the city, they waited until the driver had reached his destination near the port. Pierce thanked him for the ride and handed him a gold coin from his pocket, surprised that he still had some after their ordeal.
The walk back to the safe house passed by without incident and Pierce was finally able to appreciate their surroundings. Until now he had felt that Marseille was enemy territory and had remained tensely vigilant outside of the safe house. But now with the mission accomplished and Bufford dead, he found the southern atmosphere of the city agreeably relaxing.
Once inside the safe house they hurriedly packed their gear and cleaned all trace of their presence. Within minutes they were once again on the move, walking the short distance to the building that housed the portal to the Manor.
“You still have that thing?” MacDuff asked incredulously once inside. Pierce was tapping his swordstick on the staircase railing as they climbed towards the portal door.
“It’s my good luck charm,” Pierce replied with a shrug, trying to forget the damage that it had done and the lives it had taken.
“It needed to be done lad,” MacDuff said solemnly, knowing the thoughts that were running through Pierce’s mind. “You’re a good man Patrick. A good man.”
One by one they all entered through the portal, with Pierce leading the way. Still unused to the idea of travelling through time and space by merely walking through a doorway, Pierce couldn’t help but hold his breath as he walked through the door.