Jack of Ravens

17

‘We have to follow them,’ Church insisted over a much-needed meal of mutton and potatoes and ale in a vinegar-smelling inn overlooking the Liverpool docks. A ship had sailed for the New World not long before; the trail had gone cold.

‘Of course, Master Churchill. I have a ship here, up my sleeve,’ Will replied tartly.

Church realised how ridiculous his statement must have sounded. The cost and logistical difficulties of chartering a ship at a time when war with Spain was threatened must have been the equivalent of trying to book passage on the Space Shuttle in modern times.

‘All right,’ Church said, ‘but we can’t just let it go. Whatever they’re planning with the box and skull can’t mean well for England.’

‘True,’ Will said. ‘And there is a matter of revenge, which I will not take lightly. I personally will ensure Don Alanzo and his men pay for what was done to Lucia.’ He punctuated the statement with a long draught of ale to mask the emotion that lay beneath the surface of his vow.

When Will went to relieve himself, Jerzy said quietly, ‘Do we have to pursue them? While Niamh is gone, we are free men. And if she does not survive we are free men for ever.’

‘That’s right, think of yourself, you selfish creature,’ Tom snapped. ‘Never mind that whatever is in the box could mean that the Army of the Ten Billion Spiders will win this war.’

‘We do not know for certain that there will be a war!’ the Mocker protested. We do not know who they are or what they want!’

Church calmed him; curious eyes were already turning in their direction. ‘Tom’s right. They’re a threat to everything. That much is clear, even if we don’t know the details. We have to find a way to get across the Atlantic.’