I drop my head down further under my hood as another patrol of guards passes by the alleyway I'm hiding in.
Soldiers are everywhere this morning. They are probably all looking for me, or at least what I took.
I grip the straps of my satchel a little tighter. When I took the documents, I didn't think there would be an immediate backlash, especially not one this large. Getting to a ship and out of London will be my best option to get word out safely and quickly. Now, how to do that with soldiers stationed at every corner and patrolling every alleyway?
Speaking of soldiers patrolling alleyways, I need to get moving.
Moving around the edge of a building, voices filter through the muted sounds of the alleyway. I peak my head around hoping to catch a glimpse of the patrol. It's two young men.
"Becket, what are we even looking for?" A guard speaks up looking at his partner. The partner, Becket, looks up at the sky as if he's asking God for answers.
"Monroe, for the fifth time, a thief stole important documents last night, and we are searching for the poor bastard. He's probably hiding somewhere in the city, hoping to stay holed up until the patrols go back to normal."
Becket's answer gives me pause. Do the guards not know what I stole? Or that I'm not a man?
"So we are looking for a man who stole documents, and we don't have a description of the thief that would make identifying him any easier?" Monroe asked. Yeah, they don't know my true gender.
"All I know is that the man had a cloak on, and possibly a satchel bag. No one has told me anything else." Becket shrugs at Monroe.
"This is going to be a shit patrol," is Monroe's response, and the two of them start moving again in the direction I am hiding.
If the patrols' only knowledge on me is that I'm in a cloak and I have a satchel, then ditching those two things should help me hide myself better.
I drop my cloak off my shoulders and throw it behind a hay cart. Now, how will I hide the documents without my satchel? By the cart are a few horses grazing on the hay within. The horses have smaller bags that I could move my belongings into without being deemed a satchel because of size. I pull off a smaller bag from a dark brown horse with tan blotches, and the equestrian pays me no mind as I rustle through the small bag.
I plop onto the ground, and look in the small bag. It has a bag of coins, an apple that's a little bruised, identification papers for a Matthew Monroe, and a small pistol gun. Oh shit, this is that patrolman's horse.
I stuff my own supplies into the bag after taking out his identification papers, and take off running deep into the crowds, as the voices of the officers leave the alleyway. I can't get caught.
I pump my legs, one foot after another. Alleys blur past me as I push on forwards. I move my head left, right, back left, and back right as I move down each alleyway. I can't get caught. Not now. Not when I'm so close. Thumps of footsteps pound behind me, are beating my ears in. I have to keep moving. The thumps are closer and closer together, almost like the men are directly behind me. My lungs burn along with my legs. I chance a look behind me to see. . .
No one.
There's no one behind me.
My foot catches on the other and I stumble. The thumps still beat away deafening in my ears as I slow to a stop, but it steadily slows as I gasp in more and more air.
I need to get out of here. Out of London.
I step out of another alleyway onto the main road. Now, what is the closest port to me?
From where I am standing it seems that Port of London is the closest. Hopefully it's crowded, I can get onto a ship with no problem if its overly crowded. It probably will be anyway being the biggest port with the most amount of traffic going in and out with shipments.
I snort and a few people give me strange looks. Never thought I'd be thankful that the city is horribly crowded.
I begin to make my way towards the port, best to be moving on now before I get caught. Almost getting caught once is enough excitement for me today.
Walking within the larger crowds hides me well enough to move around the guards with little suspicion. Most guards don't even look my way. People are either shoving me or outright avoiding me, altogether. Luckily, that's just people's normal attitude, so the guards look right over me without another glance.
Noise roars around me as people converse. My stomach clenches every so often when guards glance my way make my skin hot, and cold. Fighting the urge to run, I force myself to focus most of my attention of the useless prattle of the crowd's conversations.
"Did you hear about what Melanie did yesterday?"
"Have you seen Mary recently?"
"Josiah proposed to me, we are getting married in the Spring. My mother insisted,"
"Have you heard of the arrest and imprisonment of Walpole? I heard that they got him on charges of corruption. But you didn't hear that from me."
"Pirates in London? No! Parliament would never have allowed that. They catch those loonies,"
Each one has so much to live for - wait Pirates? They could help. Or not.
Thinking more on the idea of working with pirates is a horrible idea. Ruthless killers on the open sea. They'd most likely run me through and strike a deal with the government rather than help me get the word out.
A better option is probably a sailor, or merchant ship that can be paid off to look the other way. Where to find a ship captain like that?
When I reach the docks, my breath escapes me.
Crowds of people fill up the whole space. Where there aren't crowds of people, fishermen stand off to the side with barrels of fish slicing off heads and tail, gutting the organs out, and throwing the unwanted parts into another barrel.
There's enough people crowding the docks that I can get to a ship without being spotted by the authorities, if they are looking for me in particular after that stunt I pulled with the horse.
Bells sound as another ship pulls into the docks. Men leap off with ropes grasped in hand and begin tying the rope to the docks posts. Boards are dropped with loud cracks of wood on wood, and men pour out of the ship. Rambunctious laughter fills the air drowning out most of the quieter conversations.
Thumps sounded on the wood of the docks drawing the crowd's eyes as a giant steps off of the vessel. His hair is butterscotch blonde, his olive skin clashing with the brightness of his hair has an aesthetic that just reminds me of the taste and smell of salty sea air dancing in the wind. His attractive appearance paled in comparison to the person next to him. She walks alongside him drawing the eyes of everyone to her.
The air of confidence she holds has me enthralled. I can't pull my eyes away from her. Her midnight black hair swam in the gentle winds of the sea. Her toasted pale skin shines from where she walks with the giant from across the docks. She has a small smirk on her lips and her eyes are crinkled as I can see from where I'm standing. The two of them look close. Wow, are they both attractive, in an aesthetically pleasing kind of way.
When the two finally make the final step off of the docking board, two patrol guards pass by them stopping them from taking anymore steps onto the docks. The giant and the woman look at each other before turning around and walking back onto the ship with the guard's men walking directly behind. Not going on that ship, then.
There's only one other person on the docks who isn't running off to do something is a handsome young man leaning against a dock pole next to a docked ship. He's got a ship near him and has an aloof aura, maybe he can take me where I need to go. Desperate times, desperate measures.
Running my fingers through my hair, I make my way over to the man. His eyes glance over at me in a once over before looking right back at me, again. He keeps his gaze locked onto me. Good, I've got his attention. I stand right in front of him, and clear my throat.
"Hello, are you in charge of this vessel?" I ask chancing a look up at the massive ship.
"I have some command of this ship, if that's what you are wondering." He smiles at me. It's not a direct answer, but he might have enough sway on board the ship to get me on with ease.
"In that case, is it possible that I may seek passage with you out of London?" I flutter my lashes at him. His smirk grows into a smile, with a slight twitch of one side leaving the mischievous expression on his face.
"That depends, Lass, where are you looking to go?"
Just before I can answer, there are a few crashes and thumps from the ship above. An older man steps off looking no worse for wear, but maybe a little drunk, or at least like he's had a few already this morning. Bags hang deeply under his eyes, he has a sunken look to his features, and he walks carefully with each step as to not fall over. His pace is steady but slow with a firmness to it.
"Oi, what's goin' on 'ere, David. We's aint got the time ta be standin' 'round with pretty ladies. We's got work ta do." The older man slurred scolding the younger.
"The lass here was looking for passage out of London, Captain, thought we might be able to help."
"Why? So you could get your cock wet?" The man sneers at the younger before finally turning to me. "How soon you need that passage?"
"Today, sir."
"No can do, Lass. Patrols sayin' they's got a man on the loose, so no one can leave 'til tamorrow. Come back some other time if ya want out of still."
The Captain turns towards the ship and makes his way up. The younger man gives me a sad look and shrugs before going off after his Captain.
Great. No one is leaving tonight unless they want to disobey the law. That pirate idea might not be a bad one at the moment. Especially, with the newest development.
Patrols begin to increase as I go around asking other ship captains' for passage. None are inclined to agree. More and more are surrounding the docks on the lookout for a man in a cloak. They won't notice a young woman like me doing nothing wrong. I'm okay for now.
The day went by too quickly. Night is already falling. The sky is streaked with clouds glowing pastel pink and golden yellow. The blue of the sky shifts to a mix of purples and pink.
When the Sun final falls past the horizon, the sky goes from the pastel mixes to the deep dark blues and black with bright twinkles of starlight shining through. The moon is a crescent shape and glows so brightly in the distance that its like a night sun.
The street lanterns are in the process of being lit to keep some semblance of light in the area, but there is still just enough shadows that sneaking aboard a ship may be a feat I can complete with little struggle, hopefully. Patrols are still roaming the docks and the streets at the late hour, but it does seemed to have lessened, somewhat, along with the crowds.
At this hour, most of the ships in the docks have been thoroughly secured except for one. At the very end of the dock is the large ship from earlier that the man and woman stepped off of. Some of the ropes have loose knots that could easily be untied with a single pull. That's kind of reckless for a ship as large as this one, but I'm not going to argue with them. This could be my chance to stowaway.
Stepping up the ramp with light steps creaking onto the wood, I can see that it's mostly empty save for one or two crew members moving around the ship, and laughter coming from a propped open door on the other side of the ship from where the helm is. I duck around, and no one glances my way which is odd, but no time to think about that now. I have to get moving.
"Hey, you!"
The call startles me into moving.
The laughter of the crew stops, and I go towards the opposite direction of the are. My feet slam into the ground one foot after the other. Creaking wood follows me as I descend down a staircase before me.
Gasping in breath, I stop at the bottom of the staircase into an open area below the top deck. Its wide with large crates and barrels filling each corner. In the center is a thick pole that goes right through the ceiling. That's probably the mast, which makes this the hold. A humongous chain with an anchor on the end rests beside a crank.
In the back on the farthest left is a decently sized pile of crates with nets drooping off the side of them. It looks to be about seven or nine crates in the small area alone by my count. There is where I can hide, though.
When I get behind the crates, I pull the nets over top of another crate making a pseudo blanket fort. Like what Joshua and I would make as children.
Dropping to the floor under the netting, I settle myself against a wall of the ship.
Voices are echoed above as though the men are discussing something but no one comes down to the lower levels. My heart pounds in my chest rapidly. The crashing of waves are a semblance of soothing as I relax in the darkness of the hold. Rats scurry past my feet cause me to join in the squeaking with panicked yelps.
The small bag stays secured in my grasp and shouts sound off from above. I look up at the shouting. Bells are ringing and the ship lurches. It's moving! The ship is leaving the port. Holy hells I didn't think I'd find a ship that would leave port but stowing away has just saved me the trouble of hiding in the city for the night.
I gasp and let out a few quiet chuckles, giggling, and full on laughs in relief. I would collapse if I wasn't already sitting.
Keeping the bag clutched close to me keeps on getting harder and harder as the quiet roar of the sailors above, and the moving and the crashing of the waves lulls me to sleep.
Exhaustion hits hard with impending doom no longer looming so closely behind. Eventually, I lose the fight, and drift off like a babe rocking in a cradle to sleep. The ocean singing a soothing, crashing lullaby.