Rapscallion (54 page)

And
then
came
word that Ezekiel Morgan was willing to pay
good money for information leading to the apprehension of two men. It had been
the men's descriptions that had caused Tyler to sit up and take notice, for
they matched those of the duo who'd given him a drubbing at Jess Flynn's farm.
A chance meeting with Asa Higgs over a pint at the Blind Hog had revealed to
Tyler that they were indeed the same men who'd been transported from the Flynn
farm to the Haunt a few days previous. At this point, Tyler's ears had perked
up. With those two on the run, Jess Flynn would be
on her own
at the farm.

Still
smarting, and fortified by several measures of grog, Tyler had decided it was
time to teach the cow a lesson. This time there would be no interference. But
when he got there, he'd discovered Jess Flynn wasn't alone. The men were back.
Or at least one of them was; the one who'd attacked him in the kitchen; the one
with the accent. His companion, the tall one who'd wielded the besom to such
murderous effect, was nowhere in sight. That didn't mean he wasn't around, but
he'd not shown himself once during the time Tyler had stood spying on the farm
from his vantage point at the edge of the wood. And then he'd watched Jess
Flynn and the other man embrace, and the plot that had been fermenting in his
brain reached fruition.

All
it would take was one word to Morgan or Pepper and he'd be in Morgan's good
books, he'd make himself some money, he'd have his revenge on at least one of
his attackers, and he'd get the Widow Flynn all to himself.

And
with McTurk and Croker out of the picture, Morgan would be looking for a new
lieutenant. Tyler's opportunities were expanding by the minute. He hadn't been
able to get to the Haunt quickly enough.

He
heard Pepper sigh beside him. Tyler looked down towards the house. A man was
leaving hurriedly by the back door.

Pepper
peered through the glass.

"Well?"
Tyler said, unable to keep the eagerness out of his voice. "Was I right or
was I right?" He knew the answer already. It was the other bastard. He'd
been at the farm all along.

The
jangle of harness and the sound of teeth snapping down on bits came from the
riders on either side of him. The others were growing restless; the horses as
well.

A
faint breeze touched the back of Pepper's neck.
Not what we need,
he thought,
knowing what it meant.

Pepper
watched the Runner pause and look back towards the top of the slope. He saw the
dog raise its head. When he saw Hawkwood spin back towards the house, Pepper
collapsed the telescope against his thigh. He consigned the spyglass to an
inner pocket, took up the reins and urged his horse forward.

"Now,"
he said.

The
dog's barking had already alerted the others, but it didn't prevent them from
exhibiting varying degrees of disbelief as

Hawkwood
stepped quickly back into the kitchen, dragging the dog by the scruff of the
neck. The muzzle of the fowling piece wavered alarmingly. "What -?"
Gadd began.

Hawkwood
slammed the door shut and released the dog. "It's Pepper," he said.
"They've found us."

He
watched the shock explode across Lasseur's face. The privateer rose swiftly to
his feet, drawing Jess Flynn to his side. She did not resist and neither
Hawkwood nor Gadd moved to intercede.

"How
many?"
Lasseur asked.

"Eight,
maybe ten," Hawkwood told them.

Lasseur
absorbed the news. He looked thoughtful.

"Are
you with us?" Hawkwood asked.

"The
enemy of my enemy is my friend, Matthew. Don't you know the saying?" There
was no humour this time.

Hawkwood
nodded. "So be it."

"Bloody
hell!"
Gadd said suddenly from the
window. "It's Seth Tyler."

Jess
Flynn's head came up. She gripped Lasseur's arm.

"I
knew I should have killed him," Lasseur murmured.
"Ten
against two?
Not good."

"Worse
if we don't have any bloody weapons," Hawkwood said. He eyed the fowling piece.
It wasn't enough.

"Ten
against three," Gadd said, turning from the window and brandishing the
gun. "Though I reckon having Seth Tyler on their side will be the same as
them losing two good men." The seaman grinned. The scar made him look
positively demonic.

"It's
my fight too," Jess Flynn said.

Hawkwood
shook his head. "It's not you Morgan wants."

"If
Seth is out there, then it is my fight," Jess Flynn said. "HELLO, THE
HOUSE!"

The
shout came from the front.

"That's
Pepper," Gadd said. "Reckon he must be vexed. He doesn't usually
raise his voice.
Sounds like they want to parley."

Hawkwood
peered through the window, careful to stand sheltered by the wall at an angle
to the glass.

The
riders were arranged in a semi-circle twenty paces from the door.

Hawkwood
turned to Lasseur. "Do you still have Croker's pistol?"

Lasseur
nodded. "It's not loaded."

"They
don't know that," Hawkwood said. "Hold on to the dog."

When
he opened the door he did so cautiously, the pistol cocked and extended in
front of him. Several of the men sat up straight in their saddles. Tyler was at
the end of the line; Pepper was in the centre. Hawkwood stayed in the doorway
and aimed the pistol at Pepper's chest. Pepper looked unconcerned by the
imminent threat. Unarmed, he walked his horse forward a couple of paces.

"Constable,"
he said evenly.

"You're
all under arrest," Hawkwood said. "If you get down from your horses
and surrender your weapons, we'll say no more about it."

Pepper's
mouth twitched.

Hawkwood
shrugged. "It was worth a try. How's Mr Morgan?"

"Not
happy. You've caused him a great deal of bother," Pepper said drily,
eyeing the pistol. "He's anxious to make your re- acquaintance."

"I
can imagine," Hawkwood said.

Pepper
did not smile.
"Didn't expect you'd end up back here.
We thought you'd be across the water by now."

"How'd
you find us?"

Pepper
jerked his head. "Seth here told us he happened to be in the
neighbourhood, thought he'd pay the widow a visit on account of they're related
and saw Captain Lasseur loitering with intent. We figured you'd not be too far
away." Pepper put his head on one side. "You all right, Constable?
You know, you don't look too well."

"It's
Officer
to you, Pepper,
and no, it's nothing serious. Just something I ate." Hawkwood looked along
the line of men. "You've brought a lot of help. Worried about coming on
your own?"

"Best
to be prepared," Pepper said.

"And
I suppose you'd like me to give myself up?"

"Got
it in one," Pepper said.
"Captain Lasseur as well,
if it's not too much trouble."

"You
know, that's what I miss about you, Pepper: your sparkling wit."

"It'll
go badly for you if you don't."

"I
suspect it'll go badly for us if we do," Hawkwood said.

"True,
but then the Widow Flynn and the old man get to walk away."

The
inference was clear.

"I
thought Morgan didn't make war on women," Hawkwood said.

"Sometimes
he's willing to make an exception. You want time to think about it?"

"No,"
Jess Flynn said. "We don't."

A
look of surprise began to fan across Pepper's face,
then
the air was ruptured by the blast of a gun behind Hawkwood's right ear. He
stood transfixed as every horse started in fear and Seth Tyler, arms outflung,
mouth forming a perfect oval,
was
catapulted
backwards. As Tyler's corpse landed among the herbs, the remaining
horsemen
scattered, drawing weapons. Pepper, showing
commendable dexterity for a one-armed man, wheeled his horse about as Hawkwood
threw himself through the open door, dragging Jess Flynn and the rifle with
him. He heard a chorus of sharp reports and the sound of the balls striking the
wall behind him. Somewhere a window shattered, the noise sounding as if it
might have come from upstairs. The dog began to bark.

Lasseur
kicked the door shut.

"Looks
like the parley's over," Gadd muttered sardonically.

Hawkwood
handed the pistol back to Lasseur and took the rifle from Jess Flynn's shaking
hands. It was a beautiful gun; a double-barrelled Manton with grooved barrels.
Not a light weapon by any means, yet she had wielded it well and clearly hit
what she'd aimed at. He remembered then her threat to Tyler.

"Rab,
hush!"
Jess Flynn called the agitated dog
to her.

"Tom's
right, Jess," Hawkwood said. "You killing Tyler
means
Pepper's through talking. He's got nowhere else to go."

"You
certainly did for the bugger," Gadd said, peering out of the window.
"Can't see the others, though."

"They're
there," Hawkwood said. "They'll be coming." He suspected Pepper
and his crew had found sanctuary behind the barn.

"Let
them." Jess Flynn raised her chin defiantly, though her face was pale. She
stroked the dog's head. It began to quieten. The barks turned to deep growls.

"Four
against nine," Lasseur said. "That evens it up." He stretched
out his left arm and Jess Flynn moved into his embrace and rested her head on
his shoulder. The dog, still restless, prowled the room.

"You
any good with that?"
Hawkwood nodded
to the fowling piece.

Gadd
grinned. "Got those two coneys, didn't I?"

"Rabbits
don't shoot back," Hawkwood said. He held out the Manton. "Do you
have any more ammunition for the rifle?"

She
moved away from Lasseur's embrace. "Only what's in the second
barrel."

Hawkwood
felt his heart sink.
"Tom, what about you?
Any
refills for the Mortimer? What about powder and shot?"

"I've
powder. Only a few shot though. Not enough for all
them
-" Gadd
nodded towards the window.

Better than nothing,
Hawkwood
thought.
But not by much.
"What's the bore?"

"She's
only light. Twenty."

Be thankful for small mercies,
Hawkwood murmured to himself. "Then they'll fit the pistol. We can divide the
powder and shot between yourself and Captain Lasseur."

He
turned to Jess Flynn. "Are there any other weapons in the house?"

"There's
a pistol. It was Jack's. He brought it back from the navy." She pointed to
the dresser in the corner.

Hawkwood
went to investigate. The pistol was in a drawer next to a small flask of powder
and some squares of cotton wadding. The gun was military issue. It was in good
condition though it didn't appear to have been oiled in a while. He found tools
for making ammunition but there was no lead or spare shot. Theoretically, since
it was a larger bore than the Mortimer, it would take the smaller ball,
provided more wadding was added. Failing that, it could always be used as a
club in the last resort, Hawkwood supposed.

"No
other guns?"

She
shook her head. "No."

"Then
we'll make do with these," Hawkwood said.

While
Jess and Tom Gadd kept watch, Hawkwood and Lasseur attended to the guns at the
kitchen table. The fowling piece was already loaded, and there was enough
ammunition for an additional five shots between them. As Hawkwood had expected,
the balls cast for the fowling piece were of a smaller bore than the service
pistol. Hawkwood compensated by wrapping one of the balls in a thick wad of
cotton. When he used the rod to ram the ball down the pistol's barrel it felt
tight enough, but there was no way of knowing if it would be effective when the
trigger was pulled. He would just have to make sure the target was close enough
to be certain of his shot. They divided the remaining ammunition between them.