face fell. “Aye. I’m no good in the mine, see. I just cough and cough. Dubois, he was going to kill me—he said I was useless, and he wasn’t going to waste food feeding me. But Miss Katherine spoke up for me.” Diccon straightened. “She said I wasn’t useless and that I could help fetch fruit and berries, and nuts, too, so that the cook could properly feed all us children. And the adults, too. She said that way, we’d all stay healthy and work better—and Dubois went fer it.”
Consulting his mental list of the females kidnapped, Caleb asked, “Miss Katherine—is she Miss Fortescue?”
“Aye. That’s her. But all us children call her Miss Katherine. She’s in charge of us.”
And was clearly a lioness if she’d spoken up and saved Diccon.
Diccon heaved a disconsolate sigh. “I wish I could run away, but Dubois said that if’n I ain’t back by sundown every day, he’ll kill two of me mates.” The boy’s face paled. “So I don’t even dare be late back. He’s a devil, Dubois is.”
“You believe him?” Phillipe asked the question gently.
Diccon looked him in the eye. “We all believe Dubois’s threats. Even Mr. Hillsythe. He says Dubois is one of those villains who enjoys killing, and that we none of us should ever doubt he’ll do exactly what he says.”
Caleb caught Phillipe’s eye. Hillsythe was Wolverstone’s man. If that was his assessment of Dubois, they’d be well advised to pay it due heed. “All right.” Caleb returned his gaze to Diccon. “I think it’s time we took a look at this camp—but first...” As he rose, he glanced at the assembled men, then he looked back at Diccon. “We need to find a place to camp that’s close enough to the mine for us to keep watch and study it, but far enough away that no one from the camp is likely to stumble across us. I thought perhaps somewhere along that path to the north—the one no one uses.”
Diccon nodded. “I know just the place. There’s a good-sized clearing a little way down that track.”
Caleb laid a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Can we get to it without going closer to the camp?”
“O’ course—I can lead you.” Diccon’s happy grin returned, and he swiped up his basket. “I know all the places round about. I can go where I like around the camp, and the berries and fruit and nut trees grow everywhere.”
“Is it likely anyone from the camp might hear us?” Phillipe asked.
“Nah.” As Caleb let his hand fall from Diccon’s shoulder, the boy turned and beckoned. “We’re still well out, and the trees and leaves and all keep sound in. You often can’t hear someone until they’re quite close.”
Caleb signaled to his men to follow and, with Phillipe on his heels, fell in behind Diccon.
When they reached the path from Kale’s camp, Diccon beckoned them onward. “I’ll take you through the jungle and around until we hit the other path.”
He proved as good as his word, leading them unerringly on a tacking course around jungle trees and more dense pockets of vegetation. He waved them to caution as they approached another path. When Caleb put a hand on Diccon’s shoulder and leaned down to breathe in his ear “What?” the boy tipped his head back and whispered, “This is the northwest path they use to drop off the diamonds and go to Freetown. I don’t think they’ll be on their way back yet, but...”
Caleb released his shoulder with a pat. “Good lad. Always play safe.”
They crept to the edge of the path and strained their ears, but heard nothing. Swiftly, they crossed over the beaten track and plunged back into the jungle. Ten yards on, Caleb glanced back and could see nothing but jungle foliage. Finding a guide had been a stroke of luck. Without Diccon to lead them, they would have been stumbling around—very possibly into the mercenaries’ clutches.
But Fate had smiled and sent the boy to them.
When they came upon the next path, Diccon walked confidently on to it. “That place I told you about—the nice clearing—is just along here.” He led them down what was clearly a very much less well-traveled track. There were small saplings springing up, and vines laced across the path. Phillipe muttered, then told the men to work on keeping their passing as undetectable as possible. So they avoided the saplings and ducked under the vines, all of which Diccon whisked light-footed around.
Then he turned off the path onto a narrow animal track. Fifteen yards on, it descended into a clearing that—as Diccon had promised—was perfect for their needs. Big enough to comfortably house all of them and with a tiny stream trickling past on one side.
“Here you go.” Grinning, the boy spun, holding his arms wide.
Caleb grinned back. “Thank you—this is just what we need.”
Phillipe smiled at Diccon and patted his shoulder as he passed. “You’re an excellent scout, my friend.”
The other men made approving noises as they filed into the space.
Diccon positively glowed.
It took only a moment for Caleb and Phillipe to organize the establishment of their camp, then, summoning their quartermasters—Caleb’s Quilley and Phillipe’s Ducasse—they presented themselves before Diccon.
The boy looked at them expectantly.
“First question,” Caleb said. “Have you got enough fruit in your basket to satisfy the cook?”
Diccon lifted the floppy basket, opened it, and examined the pile of fruit inside. “Almost.” He looked up and around, then pointed to a small tree with dangling yellow fruit. “If I got some more of those, I’d have enough.”
Two captains and two quartermasters dutifully gathered several handfuls of the ripe fruit.
Diccon smiled as they filled his basket, then he clamped the handles together and looked at Caleb. “More than enough.”
“Excellent. What we need next,” Caleb said, “is for you to lead us to a place where we can see into the camp, all without alerting any guards. Do you know of such a spot?”
Diccon snapped off a salute. “I know just the place, Capt’n.” He’d heard Caleb’s men using his rank.
“In that case”—Caleb gestured toward where he assumed the mine must be—“lead on.”
Diccon did. He lived up to their expectations, leading them first along the disused path again, then cutting left into the untrammeled jungle. He looked back at Caleb and whispered, “This will be safest. We’re moving away from the other paths and into the space between that northward path and the one leading to the lake. The mercenaries take some of the men to the lake to fetch water every day, but they do that in the morning. There shouldn’t be anyone at the lake now.”
Caleb nodded, and they forged on, increasingly slowly as Diccon took the order to be careful to heart.
Eventually, he halted behind a clump of palms. Using hand signals, he intimated that they should crouch down and be extra careful while following him on to the next concealing clump.
Then he
