The coast of Albion stubbornly refused to get any nearer, even after two hours of determined rowing from the disgruntled crew. With the gentle rolling of the lifeboat, added to Caroline’s closeness and the rushed spell casting that had saved their lives, Aubrey was struggling to stay awake and failing when George leaned across to him, speaking low so the weathershipmen couldn’t hear. ‘I think I know where we are.’
With some effort, Aubrey restrained himself from attempting a quip about being at the aft end of a lifeboat, and spoke in the same hushed tones. ‘Imworth is over that way, isn’t it? To the north-west?’
‘True, but we’ve a fair distance before we get there.’
‘Where we’ll have some explaining to do.’
‘Which is why we should put in over there.’
George gestured with a single finger, shielding it with his body from the scrutiny of their enforced shipmates. A scattering of lights was showing on the cliff tops a few miles away.
Aubrey peered through the night, doing his best not to make it look obvious. The cliffs loomed over a narrow strip of beach where waves boomed, sending up spray that looked like mist at this distance.
‘It doesn’t look like a good landing place.’
‘That’s the point. Imworth is the only good harbour along this stretch of coast, but if we can land here and climb to the top of the cliffs, the train line isn’t far away. We’ll be far from here before the alarm can be raised.’
Aubrey yawned. His eyes watered, blearing the clifftop lights and turned them into little stars. ‘If we can land, I think I can get us to the top.’