They took a series of residential lanes that ran parallel to the city wall. Alembord assured them they would attract far less attention by not walking directly alongside Port Royal’s first line of defense. The next tower they passed was clearly defined against the growing dusk. They walked down an alley to where Dally had a clear view. She studied it and remained silent. To speak at all risked giving voice to her fears that she would miss whatever signal she had been intended to pick up on. Finally she shook her head, and they went on.
The wind gradually picked up, moaning through each side lane and carrying a damp, salty fragrance. Dally worried that the noise would keep her from hearing anything that might rise from beneath the stones. Her doubts magnified as they passed the second tower.
The ancient stone bastions were set precisely five hundred paces apart. As they approached the third, a blustery shower blew in from the sea, pelting them with a stinging rain. Dally bundled farther into the heavy oilskin cloak, drawing it over her head. But she dropped it down again because it muffled all sound.
Then . . .
“Stop,” Dally ordered. “This is the one.”
There was nothing to distinguish that particular tower. The same watch fires glinted off the guards’ helmets. The parapet gleamed like a wet stone cauldron.
Alembord pointed to a pair of troopers patrolling the wall to their right. “We can’t stay here.”
Edlyn said, “Myron, you and everyone else, step into the nearest side lane. No, Connell, you need to stay. Dally, can you stand?”
She was already rising. “Yes.”
“Take her chair. Go. Hurry.” When it was just the four of them, Edlyn said, “Go on, lass. Take your time.”
“Time is what we don’t have,” Alembord fretted.
“Hush now. Go on, Dally.”
Connell hovered close enough for Dally to feel his breath upon the back of her neck. But he did not touch her. She took a step, listened. Nothing. Another step. Edlyn drew Alembord farther away from the tower, over to where they were partly blocked from view by a residence’s front portico. Dally continued to walk slowly, a wavy path that took her ever closer to the tower. She heard the soldiers’ soft voices from far overhead. Which was remarkable. She would have thought her heart was thundering far too hard to hear anything.
Then she sensed it. “Here.”
Connell stepped closer still, his body tense against her side. They stood like that, locked in silence, listening with every portion of their beings. Then he wheeled about, hissed, and motioned.
Edlyn and Alembord slipped forward. Almost instantly, Edlyn murmured, “Oh my, yes.”
Alembord asked, “You hear something?”
“I do indeed.” She gripped the captain’s arm and drew him closer. “Don’t listen with your ears. With your boots.”
“I don’t . . .”
They clustered there in a tight group for a pair of excited breaths. Dally could smell the smoke drifting down from the watch fire. She heard the scrape of troopers’ boots upon the stones overhead. There was the clank of metal, a weapon scraping upon the wall. None of it mattered. Not even the strain and fatigue she could see on these three faces. They had moved so fast, pushed so hard. So they could stand clutched together as a single unit. Here. In a storm-drenched city street, a few moments before the nightly curfew, listening to something that rushed and whispered softly beneath their feet.
Dally did not know what it meant. Nor at that moment did it matter. Simply having this affirmation of her image granted her an instant of genuine hope. That her life had a new meaning. That she was right to put these good people in such peril. That she had been correct to do as the image had shown, and send a banker away from his family residence. That there was indeed a chance, however slight, that they might strike a blow against a foe who had robbed her of home and family and life.
Edlyn whispered, “You hear it.”
“Yes, but . . .” Alembord bent over as if seeking to hear what could not be heard. Only felt. “You know what that is?”
“Oh, without question.” She pulled at his sleeve. “Let’s join the others.”
Together they moved over to where they were blocked from view. Alembord asked, “Is it really so important?”
“It’s more than that,” Edlyn replied. She pointed back across the empty rain-swept avenue. “That is a sign we might all survive tomorrow.”