Crispin_ At the Edge of the World - Avi [32]
“Ball’s brotherhood.”
Bear’s face stiffened. “How do you know?”
“A friend told me three men have come to town and were asking for you. I did not see them”
“Sins of Satan!” Bear swore. He slumped against the wall, defeat in his face. It was shocking for me to see him so, but it confirmed what we had to do. “I was hoping it would be otherwise.”
“Bear,” I said, “we must leave.”
He shook his head. “Crispin, they would only follow,” he said.
“We can take a boat,” I said. “Sail away from England. Go to one of those places of which you spoke.”
Bear bowed his head. “Let them come, Crispin. We’ll be done with them.”
He looked up at me with weary eyes. To my dismay I saw him willing to accept defeat. “Bear,” I pleaded, struggling to find a way to move him, “there are three of them. If you can’t fight them off, what would become of me? And Troth?”
That touched him. He looked at Benedicta, as if he was asking her.
“Rye is a small place,” she said. “It will take only a short time before you’re pointed out. Crispin’s right. You best go.”
“There are two cogs on the quay,” I quickly said.
Bear turned to me. “How do you know?”
“I look every day.”
Bear studied his hands as if to measure their strength. Then once again he turned to the innkeeper.
“When it is safe,” she whispered, “you can return. I’ll be here.”
Bear took in a great breath. “God grant it. Very well. Crispin, gather our things.”
“Troth has them,” I replied.
Benedicta turned to Luke. “Go with him,” she said. “I’ll stay here, and deal if necessary.”
“Can you?” asked Bear.
“As God knows, there’s little fear left in me.”
She and Bear embraced one another. As we were leaving, the innkeeper handed Bear some coins and a bullock dagger. “Trust in God and this.”
“Can you spare it?” asked Bear.
“I can.” She turned back to Luke. “Take them down and around the western cliff,” the innkeeper advised. “Are you sure there were cogs?” she asked me.
I nodded.
“Make sure you bring them to the one that’s leaving soonest,” she said to her son.
Luke nodded his understanding. For a moment Bear and Benedicta gazed at one another. There was great sadness in their faces.
“Bear,” I cried, “we must go!”
Thus we quit the inn, all but running.
23
THE SOUTHERN CLIFF that fronted Rye was rocky and steep, but more steplike than not, so that we could climb down with ease. Moreover, Luke knew a path that in the growing darkness we would never have found on our own. With him going first, followed by Bear, Troth, and finally me, it took moments for us to reach the rocky base.
“Keep close,” Bear whispered.
Going as quickly as we could, we picked our way over boulders and stones until we turned the bend of Rye’s bluff Coming round we saw a large fire burning on the beach. By the gleaming firelight, I saw the two cogs I had seen earlier. They had been hauled up on the beach.
I looked to Bear. “There, you see.”
“We can but try,” he said and turned to Luke. “We’d best go on alone. Your mother may need you. In any case, if we can’t leave by boat, we’ll leave by another way. I’ll send word. Many blessings on your kindness.”
Luke had no desire to linger. “God give you grace,” he said and hastened away, running back the way we’d come.
As soon as he left, we three continued along the beach. Drawing closer, we could see that while there were two cogs, just one had people about—four in number. By the light of the fire we could see they were brawny fellows, working in pairs to load a host of barrels. Once the barrels were on the ship they wrestled them down a hatch to the hold. On the beach were some sixteen more tuns.
“Keep a look about,” Bear warned.
That said, we advanced upon the cog.
“God mend all,” called Bear as he approached. Troth and I held back some steps.
The men paused in their work. Once they saw who we were, they went on with their labor.
“Might I speak to the ship’s master?” asked Bear.
One of the men standing on the beach, who was just bringing a barrel forward, called out. “I’m here.”
He was a squat, bulky man, whose flat, weathered face featured