I took another bite anyway. Devlin continued watching me as he left his place at the table and began walking in my direction. Finally, I forced myself to stand. The only thing I knew for certain was that one way or another, I was going to lose.
Then Devlin cried out in a rage, and for the first time I looked up. There was stew spilled down his front, gravy dripping off his right arm and chest.
“Forgive me, sir. I didn’t see you coming.” Imogen bowed low before Devlin, the empty pot of stew clutched in her hands.
“Clumsy servant girl!” Devlin raised a hand to strike her, and slowly lowered it. He glared at her, then at me, then cursed and stomped away.
I retreated back to the seat, though my hand was gripped so firmly around my sword it took a conscious effort to release it and reach again for my spoon. With the silent help of the other girls, Imogen collected what she could of the mess she had made, and hurried away. Low murmurs rumbled amongst the men, but no one wanted his voice to stand out. Across from me, Fink sat nearly frozen.
“Fink,” I hissed. “Eat.”
“He would’ve killed you just now.”
“Eat.”
But he only pushed his bowl away and leaned his head back on the table. I finally settled a debate inside my head that I’d been struggling with all evening. I dipped my spoon into my bowl and whispered, “One hour after the last light goes out tonight, meet me in the stables.”
“Why?”
“Just be there. And make sure nobody follows you.”
Fink was already gone when I got up about a half hour after lights-out. He’d made an excuse over an hour ago to visit the outhouse and never returned. Nobody had noticed.
I rose silently, then tousled the blanket so that it would appear I was still in my cot. If the devils were merciful tonight, nobody else in this room was awake. Especially not the person whose cot I was tiptoeing toward.
Erick was sleeping near the far end of the hut, in an unfavorable location where the cool sea breeze would first flow through. Because of that, he was bundled up tightly in his blanket, his head partially buried.
Every pirate had the area beneath his cot to use for personal storage. Most of the men had trunks or crates for their things. However, since he was so new here, Erick had very few things and had only set below the cot whatever he wasn’t comfortable sleeping with. His boots were there, and the sheath for his sword, which was empty. I guessed he was probably sleeping with his sword — most of the men did. I softly patted the ground until I found the item I wanted.
I picked up Harlowe’s pocket watch, holding it tightly to diminish the constant sound of its ticking, and tucked it into my shirt. With silent movements, I then slipped out of the hut. The skies were dark and cloudy, which was a gift in that it allowed me to hide from any pirates who kept nighttime vigils. I made my way to the hut where Devlin slept and stood outside for a minute or two while I decided what to do. I could tell from here that I wouldn’t be blessed with sneaking into the room of a snorer, as I had been with Conner. Devlin was likely to be a light sleeper, and somehow in the pitch blackness of his room, I would have only a few minutes to find my knife. It wasn’t a good idea.
Still, I really wanted that knife. Or rather, I didn’t want Devlin to have it.
I inched his door open, but only had one foot inside his hut before I stepped out again. Someone else was nearby. I swung around, hearing the soft crunch of sand behind me. Imogen stepped from the shadows with a finger pressed to her lips.
She put her mouth next to my ear and whispered, “What are you doing?”
“You need a weapon,” I replied. “Just in case.”
“You’ll be there to protect me. Besides, I have this.” Then she leaned away from me and withdrew a kitchen knife from her pocket.
I nodded in approval, but looked back at Devlin’s door. “Wait for me.” I started forward, but Imogen touched my arm and shook her head.
“No, Jaron,” she said. “Please, let’s just leave.”
It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but she was right. It was foolish to risk so much by going in there. Imogen walked forward, urging me away with her. Finally, I gave in and followed. Keeping to the shadows, we hurried toward the stables.
“Do you know how many vigils keep watch overnight?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. All I can tell you is that one passes near our quarters every ten minutes or so.”
That had been my experience when I’d helped the sailor escape. It wasn’t much time.
We crouched behind some bushes near the stables. A vigil was walking through the center of them, looking in on the horses.
“We’ll have to hurry once he leaves.” I withdrew Harlowe’s pocket watch from my shirt and pressed it into her hand.
“What’s this?” she asked. Even after she recognized the object she still shook her head.