The Hold of the Ursula Gothel, Very Early the Next Morning
Scott Sherwood and Lord Jeffrey Singer looked up from the crates they sat on as the door opened. They both leaped to their feet when they saw two of the pirates throw Victor Comstock into the room. He landed on the floor face-first. “We have another friend to visit you,” Pavla DeVile sneered. “Perhaps you'll be more amused by his constant chatter about the Patriots and the colonies than I am.”
“Victor!” Jeff got there first. “Are you all right?” Victor's eyes fluttered. He had a split lip and a bloody nose. Jeff put his handkerchief to Victor's face, trying to stop the bleeding. He looked up at Pavla, gritting his teeth in anger. “What did you do to him? If you've done any permanent damage...”
“We did have to beat him a little to keep him in line. He kept trying to get away.” She gave them her sly smirk. “Probably to return to your stupid little inn.”
“It's not stupid!” Scott glared at her. “It's a good place, where people can pull off the road and get a hot meal and enjoy themselves with fine entertainment. It's...it's a home away from home!”
“You have no place to talk, Herr Sherwood.” She stroked his chin. “My lover Cribby and I just negotiated with my richest and most valuable employer for your sorry hide.”
“I won't be bought and sold like a piece of meat!” Scott leaped at her, but her men forced him back.
“You will not try to harm me, Crimson Blade. Not if you want Comstock and Singer to live to embrace their lovers again.”
Scott growled and tried to get at Pavla. Her men held him back. “If you get within five millimeters of any of the staff from the inn, especially Elizabeth, I'll...”
Pavla pointed her gun at his chest. “Do what? Harm me? A woman? I can see you're no gentleman. You're just an Irish ruffian, barely worth the money the Governor paid for you.”
Victor's eyes flicked towards Pavla's. “That so-called ruffian,” he snapped, “has more nobility in his soul than you could dream of in all your years of existence on this planet, Captain DeVile.”
Pavla's men finally shoved Scott so hard, he nearly fell over the crates. “Pruitt will be coming for him at dawn. As for the two of you,” she nodded at Jeff and Victor, “you'll be taken to Boston. There are officers in the British army who would love to find out what Johnathan Arnold and his contact found out about the their plans for Lexington and Concord.”
Victor narrowed his eyes. “You know you'll never get us to talk.”
She pulled out a large gold pendant. “Hypnosis can be very useful. It certainly worked on you in Boston a few months ago.”
This time, it was Jeff who leaped at her. “Don't you try that trick on him again!” Two of the men shoved him back towards Victor.
“I didn't appreciate it the first time,” Victor added. “There are things about my sojourn in Boston and the night I returned I still can't recall. I prefer my mind to belong to me alone, not manipulated by a second or third party.”
“Very well.” She nodded at her men. Jeff and Victor were tied together, their wrists held in manacles. Scott was chained to the wall, his back pulled into the most uncomfortable position possible. “If any of you try escaping, my men will be on you as fast as a dog can bite at its fleas.” Scott's angry cursing was drowned out by Pavla's laughter.
The Lobby of the Weeping Joker Inn, Shortly Before Daybreak
The man sitting at the front desk of the Weeping Joker Inn had to blink twice when his boss came in, with a line of the most rag-tag soldiers he'd ever seen in his life. Maybe it was just that it was early. One fellow with white hair seemed a little too...seasoned...to be a guard. Another was short and plump. A third was small and slender, and he had to admit, rather pretty, for a man.
What he assumed to be the head of the guards very nearly shoved Crawley into the room. He was also small for what appeared to be a general, with chestnut hair pulled back in a thick queue and haughty brown eyes. He looked like an arrogant ass. He gave orders to everyone within firing range. “You!” he said in an oddly high voice for a man. “What are you doing, standing here at this hour of the morning? Sleeping on the job! You should be clapped in irons!”
What the man didn't see was the general pointing a knife at Crawley's back. “Fitzgerald,” he gasped, “I need you to bring me the key to the third floor.”
Fitzgerald looked surprised. “The keys? What about those criminals up there? The ones who are supposed to be very dangerous?”
Crawley gulped as the general pushed the blade further. “For heavens sake, Fitzgerald, do as I say!”
“All right, all right.” He pulled out a box, muttering about uppity military officers. “Here.” He handed Crawley a set of spindly copper keys.
“Thank you, Fitzgerald.” Crawley quickly shoved the keys in his pocket.
“You'll be awarded a commendation for this, my good fellow,” the general added, with a flourish that sounded a little too put-on. “We've been after these men for months. We're going to take them back to Fort Pitt for questioning and certain excruciatingly tortures that will draw the truth from their veins like a sword draws the first blood. Or have I said too much?”
“Hilary,” muttered the first officer, a small, round fellow with a thick gray mustache, “don't overdo it. We want this guy to believe you're a British general, not Lady Macbeth!”
“Can't I be both?”
They followed Crawley upstairs, past barely-awake guests, to the third floor. Crawley stopped at the last door in the hallway. “All of you stand back. What you'll see is all too shocking.” He seemed to take a tortuously long time with getting the door open.
C.J looked up when they entered. Several men lay in beds along a large room. C.J was playing cards with a few more. He frowned. “What are you doing here? I thought we weren't going to be moved back to Fort Pitt until next week.”
“Plans have changed.” Hilary grabbed C.J's arm as roughly as she could manage. “This one appears to be a likely troublemaker. We'll make him an example to the rest of those loathsome degenerates.”
C.J squinted at her as well as hie could, considering how tired he was. “Hilary?”
“Shhh!” She shook her head. “The other guests may hear us.”
Elizabeth turned her bayonet on Crawley. His eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
The others were already filing out. Elizabeth glared at him. “You're not going anywhere, mister. At least, not until after we rescue our friends. We don't need you telling Pruitt that the Crimson Blade's men are loose.”
Hilary nodded. “I agree. We'll let him cool his heels here for a while.”
“That should teach him to try to take over an inn that isn't his!” Mr. Eldridge added.
“You can't do this to me!” Crawley wailed. “I own this inn! I'm in charge!”
“Oh, I think they'll live without you for a few hours.” Elizabeth was the last person out. “At least until we can tell the police and the military that you were involved with a British spy ring.”
“I'll call my lawyer! I'll sue! You'll be taken to courts and raked until you bleed! You...” Elizabeth shut the door and locked it before they could hear the rest of his tirade.
Fitzgerald looked up as they trooped downstairs. “Mr. Fitzgerald!” The man leaped out from behind the desk and stood erect next to Hilary. “You must not tell anyone we were here. We're under strict orders from George Washington himself to keep this all very secret.” She tried to resist her smirk. “Oh, and Mr. Crawley said he had some very important work that he needed to do upstairs. You are to see that he's not disturbed for the rest of the day.”
“Yes sir!” Fitzgerald nearly knocked himself over saluting her.
C.J grinned as he and the others followed Hilary out. “You're so good at this, you're scaring me. Since when did all of you join the British Army?”
Elizabeth was on his other side. “Since Pavla DeVile captured Scott and Jeff. We have to get to her ship! She's going to sell Scott to Pruitt and then sail off to Boston with Jeff!”
C.J's eyes widened. “What? How did Pavla get both of them?”
Hilary lead them towards a large, slightly rickety carriage. “We're not sure how she got her foul, nauseatingly soft and slender hands on Scott. It's likely she appeared after we did a 52-hour show on drugged tea. Scott would have been too tired to defend himself.” She sighed. “Jeff, as usual, jumped headfirst into a trap to ensnare his person before he considered the fact that Pablum would never willingly give up the chance to bleed the Singer name dry.”
Maple gazed up at the sky, which was growing lighter and lighter by the minute. “We must get to the Ursula Gothel! Mr. Menlow said that Scott would be sold to Pruitt at first light! The sun is almost up now!” She climbed into the carriage.
Elizabeth gathered them around her. “All right. Everyone in costume will change out of them while we're in the carriage. Mr. Eldridge and Gertrude, you'll meet Gus Kahana at his fruit stand in the marketplace. He'll take you to Fort Pitt to tell the military what's going on and see if you can get their help. Tell them to come to Dock 13 at the Pittsburgh Village Waterfront.”
Mr. Eldridge saluted her. “You need only ask.”
Elizabeth stared at him. “I'm asking.”
Gertrude shook her head. “Come along, Tom. I think they're trying to clear us old folks out in time for the big showdown.” She turned to the others. “I wish you all good luck. You're...well, you're the children I never had. Even you, Hilary. Stay safe, and bring the boys home in at least one piece.”
Hilary made a face. “If Jeff's done anything with that nautical tramp of a semi-wife of his, he may be in a few more pieces than he'd like.”
C.J turned to Elizabeth. “What about the rest of us?”
“We're going to the Ursula Gothel.” Maple poked her head out of the carriage. She wore a low-cut, bright red blouse trimmed with ruffles that showed off every bit of her well-known curves. “And we're all going to go in uniform.” She tossed C.J a slightly looser, less ruffly red shirt.
Elizabeth nodded, her grin ear-to-ear. “If Pruitt wants Crimson Blades, then that's what he's going to get!”
The Hold of the Ursula Gothel, Shortly After
Scott was still cursing and still trying to free himself of his bonds. “Haven't you run out of cerulean vocabulary words yet, Sherwood?” Victor complained. “They're not aiding us in escaping this foul prison.”
“Well, they're making ME feel a lot better!”
Jeff groaned. “Stop it, you two. This is hardly the time to fight.”
Scott winced as his back tweaked. “I'm not sure I could take Victor in a fight, anyway. My eye was swollen for two days after he socked me.”
“You stole my job and the woman I was courting while I was doing dangerous undercover work in Boston!” Victor hollered at the top of his normally refined lungs. “What was I supposed to do?”
Scott looked at the floor. “Victor, I deserved that punch. I forged the letter because I thought the inn would make a perfect temporary headquarters for the Crimson Blade, and I would get to flirt with a pretty writer. After the Crimson Blade made some good money, he'd run out with no one the wiser.” He finally looked up at Victor and Jeff. “I never expected to fall in love with Elizabeth or find a real home.”
Victor's eyes clearly said he didn't believe him. “Do you mean that, Sherwood? Almost everything out of your mouth is an untruth. Even your marriage to Hilary was false.”
Scott stared hard at the tall innkeeper. “Victor, you have a good job that pays you enough to get by and challenges your mind. You have two women who adore you. You're brilliant, you're clever, and you have a hell of an uppercut. You're a war hero before the colonies have even gone to war!” He shifted in his bonds. “I'm an outlaw. A criminal. A huckster. That's all I ever will be. I'm no hero. I've done things that make me no better than Pavla and those apes she calls a crew.”
Victor shook his head. “When I returned to the Inn, I would have said I completely adhered to that last statement.” He turned to Scott as well as he could. “And yet, it was you who solved those codes the night I returned. You were the one who uncovered Abernathy and Brumpton's treachery.” Victor gave him that little smile. “A man can appear to be a black-hearted rogue on the outside, yet have a warrior's heart on the inside.”
Jeff tried to face Victor, at least as well as he could. “Victor, while we're all baring our souls, I think it's time I bared mine. I wasn't only the contact for you.” He sighed. “I worked with Scott and the other members of the Crimson Blades before I came to Boston the second time.”
Victor frowned. “You, Jeff? But why? You're a peer of the realm and an aristocrat.”
“He caught Maple, C.J, and me one night when we were planning to rob several prominent local businesses with ties to Pruitt,” Scott explained. “Instead of turning us in, we convinced him he could be more helpful as a kind of scout. He found out, through his society connections, which local rich people were on the roads and easy targets and which of Pruitt's businesses we would be able to rob. Hilary did the same thing for us when he went to Boston.”
Jeff groaned. “Scott, I'm sorry about Hilary. I had to tell her. You know Hilary. It's not easy to keep a secret from her. Especially considering I was still her husband at the time.”
Scott sighed. “Yeah, I know that all too well.”
Victor tugged at his bonds. “I'm glad we got all this off our chests. Jeff's correct that we'll have to work together to escape this predicament.” He looked out the one window. “Pavla will return at any moment. It's very nearly morning.” He tried to tug at the cuffs that held his wrists. “Jeff, if we pull together, we may be able to stand long enough to retrieve the keys from the peg outside.”
“Well, we could try.”
Scott looked up as voices were heard on the staircase. “And hurry, you two! I think they're coming!” He continued to yank his heavy chains as hard as he possibly could.
Victor and Jeff stood at the same time...but they did it too quickly. They nearly ended up on the floor! “Whoa!” Jeff winced as his face ended up against the wall. “Ow. That hurt.”
“Careful!” Victor tried to stand straighter. “We will need to move as one. Follow my count. One, and two, and...”
The footsteps became louder as the pair two-stepped their way over to the door. Victor was just trying to pull his hands free of the chains when the door was flung open. Victor and Jeff were sent flying into the floor next to Scott.
The three men all gazed up with murder in their eyes as Governor Pruitt slid his oily way into the hold, followed by Pavla and several of her men. “Well, well. I thought I left the English music hall acts back at that silly little inn of yours. How very amusing. Did you set this bit of slapstick up for our entertainment, or do you have a reason for behaving like two comics in a bad stage routine?”
Scott ignored how the chains cut into his back. He let out a nearly animal-like snarl. “Don't you touch them, you fiend! You're not fit to do a pratfall on the ground they fall on!”
Pruitt slithered over to Scott, grabbing him by what remained of his shirt collar. “My, my. Such language from a possession.”
Victor's glare was nearly as cutting as Scott's. “Governor, you of all people should be aware that slavery is not legal under the laws of this colony. You have no moral right to buy or sell another human being.”
“I'm also aware that, as governor of this colony, I make the laws.” He shoved his cane against Scott's neck. “This man is an indentured servant. He owed me and my family thousands of dollars worth of debt.” He smirked. “Sherwood, I know the marriage license you and the charming Lady Booth showed at the City Hall was false. I'm no fool. I'm the one who arranges the licenses.” He smacked Scott across the face with his cane. Victor and Jeff both tried to jump at him, but the pirates pushed them back on the floor.
Scott raised his chin as nobly as he could manage. “Pruitt, do what you want with me, but leave Victor and Jeff out of this. Let them go back to the inn and their women. They have nothing to do with us.”
“I think otherwise.” Pavla stroked Jeff's cheek. He pulled his head away, his eyes full of barely repressed fury. “My husband here is the only one who knows information about both of the mystery men of Pittsburgh.”
She moved her hand to Victor's cheek. He shot her his angriest look. “Jeffrey was the contact for Johnathan Arnold,” she nodded at Scott, “and he worked for the Crimson Blade. Jeff thought he escaped me in Boston.” She looked right into the younger man's eyes. “Oh, you assumed you were clever, husband, running out on me. Did you think I wouldn't follow you? I knew you'd run right to your dearly beloved Lady Booth.”
Pruitt laughed. “Well, well. Looks like you've been busy, Lord Singer. I didn't think a shallow young imbecile like you had it in him to be in two places at once.”
Jeff narrowed his eyes. “Maybe I'm a lot smarter than you give me credit for.”
Pavla turned to her men. “Take Comstock to my quarters. There's some...information...that the British would love to get from him.”
“I wouldn't tell you what you wanted to know in a million decades! Not if you performed every unspeakable act of torture ever devised on my person!”
Pavla laughed and swung the gold medallion that was on her neck. “I only need one.”
Jeff let out a roar. “You'll both be sent to prison for this! When the others find out what you're doing...”
“The others.” Pruitt gave them his throaty chuckle. “I'm assuming you mean your precious friends at the Monongahela Inn. You wouldn't happen to know which one of them owns the inn, do you? I was told one of the residents somehow managed to purchase it. I have a good chum who wishes to buy it.”
Jeff shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“Nor do I.” Victor shrugged. “All of the staff and regular residents at the inn have been asking the same query. Whomever the person is, we owe them a debt of gratitude. They lowered the rents and made it possible for many of the residents to remain in their homes, regardless of their gender, race, or status.”
“I think I can guess,” Scott muttered to himself as two of Pavla's men removed his chains and yanked him to his feet. “I just hope they don't find out.” Out loud, he said “I don't know either, Pruitt. Whomever they are, they haven't exactly spread it around.”
“Nevertheless, we'll find out. Even as we speak, my friend and several of my men have been dispatched to make sure none of your beloved staff attempt to come to your rescue.”
Scott tried to lunge for Pruitt, but Pavla's men held him back. “If you've harmed any of them, I'll...”
“Do what? I'm scarcely frightened of a piece of property.” His smirk grew wider. “Oh, yes. Speaking of property, I asked the men to bring me my lovely little Elizabeth Roberts. I have missed her so. Such an attractive, intelligent girl. She'll be a great asset to my holdings.”
The smug government official got right in Scott's face. “I spent the month I languished in that prison cell considering all the wonderful games I could play with that sweet, innocent child in bed on our wedding night. It would be quite delightful to take her...assets...and make them my own.”
“DON'T YOU LAY A FINGER ON HER, YOU SLIMY BASTARD!” Scott broke free of the two men who held him, his face the same color crimson as his shirt. He managed to slam Pruitt in the chin with a hard right before five of Pavla's men leaped onto him. He flailed and writhed like a bass in a net, but there were too many of them.
Victor's eyes blazed. “Sherwood is utterly accurate in his assessment of your character, Pruitt,” he snarled. “You're an inhuman, cold-hearted monster! You don't love Elizabeth. You couldn't. You wouldn't know how to love anything that can't be bought or sold.”
“You have no choice in the matter anymore, any of you.” Pruitt rubbed his chin. “Tie up Sherwood and bring him to my ship.” He nodded at Pavla. “Captain, when you sell the other two to the British, remember, I get a share of the profits.”
“No!” Scott screamed. “I'll never be a slave!” Scott's protests were finally muffled by a pirate winding a heavy rag in his mouth. Another pirate wrapped chains around his wrists and arms, yanking them hard behind his back. Two of the pirates dragged him out, struggling angrily all the way.
Pavla helped the remaining men remove Victor's chains. “Chain Lord Singer to the wall, where Sherwood was. Perhaps a few more hours in the hold will cool that aristocratic temper of his.”
Victor tried to block Jeff. “I won't permit such an atrocity. He's a civilian! He was merely my contact. He knew nothing about my work.”
Pavla took Victor roughly by his cravat. “I wouldn't concern yourself with him, Johnathan Arnold. I'd be more worried about what I intend to do to you.” Jeff watched helplessly as Pavla and her first mate bound Victor's hands behind his back and almost literally threw him out of the hold.
The Adventures of the Crimson Blade
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