Lord of the Privateers (The Adventurers Quartet) by Stephanie Laurens

Lord of the Privateers (The Adventurers Quartet) by Stephanie Laurens

Author:Stephanie Laurens [Laurens, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780778319733
Amazon: 0778319733
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2016-12-26T23:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 10

The following morning, Isobel slept late, drained by the unaccustomed activity of sawing through countless twisted vines. She’d assumed the four of them would take turns at the sawing—that she’d be able to largely supervise. Instead, the other three had been hopeless; unable to ease back on their strength sufficiently to put just the right amount of pressure on the serrated blade, they’d constantly got the blade stuck.

Even Kit.

In the end, it had been faster and easier for Isobel to do all the sawing. The other three had helped in other ways—Royd and Lachlan taking turns in lifting her on their shoulders so she could slice through the higher bindings, and Kit pressing on the planks to tension the bindings so they were easier to cut.

By the time they’d done all they’d needed to do, Isobel’s arm muscles had been screaming. But the gate she’d created behind the women and children’s hut was now held in place by only two vines, both of which were half sliced through—easy to dispense with in the wink of an eye, at least for her.

The main gates had been more problematic; they couldn’t risk weakening the bindings to the point where opening and closing the gates might bring them down. She’d confirmed which planks they should cut between, one pair to the right of the gates, one pair to the left. Then, with her knowledge of structures and Royd’s understanding of forces, they’d determined which particular bindings needed to remain to allow the gates to stand apparently firmly and operate normally.

Between each set of planks, they’d left a single binding vine above head level but within a man’s reach, another at shoulder height, another at waist height, and a final binding a foot from the ground, all deeply scored but still holding. She’d sliced through all the other vines lashing those particular planks together, with Royd, Kit, and Lachlan constantly testing the structure to make sure it wasn’t in any danger of prematurely collapsing.

When they’d finally finished, she—and the others, too—had felt reasonably confident they’d made the right decisions. The gates had still seemed as solidly fixed as ever.

Once the rescue was under way and the noise in the compound rose, sailors with machetes could hack through the remaining bindings. If all went as planned, the mercenaries would be distracted and wouldn’t hear the thunks.

When they’d returned to the camp and she’d reached the oilskin she and Royd had been sharing, she’d collapsed in an exhausted heap and had immediately fallen asleep.

Apparently, he’d seen no reason to wake her come morning. She’d been drowsily aware when he’d left her side, but she’d been in no mood to face the day. She’d remained on the oilskin to one side of the clearing, her back to all activity, vaguely conscious of the men rattling around. Gradually, all sounds had faded, and she’d fallen deeply asleep once more.

She finally woke to the caw of a parrot in the canopy far above. Stretching, she rolled over and saw Kit sitting on a log nearby.



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