The King's Exile (Thomas Hill Trilogy 2) (36 page)

BOOK: The King's Exile (Thomas Hill Trilogy 2)
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‘Have you heard any more from Colonel Walrond, my lord?’ asked Adam, quickly. None of them wanted to be drawn on the source of the information.

‘He’s as bellicose as ever,’ replied Willoughby. ‘He asked my permission to lead a troop of two hundred men in a surprise attack on their flank. I refused it. Ayscue may yet change his mind and we should do nothing to provoke him. Are we still adequately provisioned, Charles?’

‘For the present, yes. Supplies are brought daily from Oistins and Bridgetown. The meat is not always fresh and the bread often stale but as long as it continues to arrive, we need have no fear of starvation. Of water, we have an abundance.’

‘What about the enemy? Who’s supplying them?’

‘Much the same merchants, I daresay. I doubt they’re particular about their customers, as long as they can pay.’

‘Is there any more we can do?’

‘Other than keep dry, I can think of nothing.’

‘My lord, if you will forgive me, would it not be wiser to seek a settlement?’ ventured Thomas. ‘Once we’ve started hacking each other to pieces, it might be difficult to stop. And our position will be gravely weakened if we suffer heavy losses.’

‘What do you suggest?’

‘If I may, my lord, that we send a message to Sir George
Ayscue to the effect that we are prepared to fight but would rather find a peaceful solution. His response may tell us more about the squadron.’

‘It would have to be done in secret. Walrond must not hear of it.’

‘That, my lord, is why I, not Charles or Adam, should carry the message. Colonel Walrond will not note my absence. With your consent, I will go tonight.’

Willoughby considered. ‘I am not happy about this, Thomas. You might be in danger.’

‘That I am quite used to. I have found Barbados to be a dangerous place.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Unless there is a better idea, my lord, quite sure.’

Willoughby looked at the other two, who both shrugged. ‘Very well, Thomas. The Lord had a purpose when he sent you here. Again it is you to whom I turn for help. I shall await your report.’

Thomas approached the Parliamentary lines from the direction of Oistins. He had taken a path which wound round below the plateau and climbed the hill behind them. He was unarmed. The first sentries he met were stationed in bushes fifty yards down the hill. In answer to their warning, he gave his name, stated his purpose and asked to be taken to Sir George Ayscue. The sentries made him wait while one of them went to deliver the message.

The man finally returned to say that Sir George Ayscue was at dinner with Colonel Modyford and Colonel Drax and that he was to escort Master Hill to them.

At the rear of the Parliamentary lines, Thomas found the
three men seated at a small table in Ayscue’s tent, working their way through a hearty dinner. Modyford’s comfortable house had been abandoned as battle headquarters in favour of a tent on the plateau. They looked up when he entered.

‘Thomas Hill, sent by Lord Willoughby, I understand,’ said Ayscue, ‘and for what purpose, pray?’

Thomas presented the document he had himself written and which Lord Willoughby had signed. It confirmed that Master Thomas Hill, principal secretary to Lord Willoughby, had come at his lordship’s command. ‘Lord Willoughby wishes me to advise you that he carries the commission of the king to govern Barbados and that he does not intend to relinquish it.’

Ayscue’s response was sharp. ‘We recognize no authority but that of Parliament. Charles Stuart, the man to whom you refer as king, is at present in Holland and holds no sway in England.’

‘Lord Willoughby believes otherwise and if necessary will fight in the name of King Charles.’

Modyford shrugged. ‘There’s nothing new in this. It’s what Willoughby has been saying for weeks. It’s got us nowhere, which is why I have allied myself to Sir George. With the Virginia squadron we now easily outnumber you. Willoughby must know that he cannot defeat us and would be well advised to sue for peace. The terms would be more favourable now than after he has been defeated.’

‘His lordship does not entertain the possibility of defeat. Nevertheless, he would prefer, as he believes you would, to avoid bloodshed and invites you to meet him to discuss a truce.’

Drax had been chewing a chicken leg. He threw it down. ‘No one tried harder than I to avoid bloodshed. I spoke often for peace and tolerance. I did not follow suit when Walrond raised a militia
although it would have been a simple matter to do so. I put my estate and my wealth at risk in the interests of harmony. And how was I repaid for this? I was banished. Summarily despatched and without compensation. Do you wonder that I do not now care to listen to pleas for peace? Walrond and his like have brought this upon themselves. Tell Willoughby that the time for talk is over. Surrender or fight. I have nothing more to say.’

Thomas tried again. ‘This is a small island. A battle would be a catastrophe. The losses on both sides would be great, differences of opinion would become lasting enmities and the prosperity of all would suffer for years to come. Lord Willoughby believes that you do not want this any more than he. If there are terms upon which you would be willing to discuss a truce, he asks that you inform him of them.’

Ayscue’s voice rose to a shout. ‘Of course there are terms. I have made them clear. Lord Willoughby will step down, I will take over as governor and the Assembly will acknowledge the right of Parliament to direct its actions. If Willoughby wishes me to put this in writing so that there may be no mistake or misunderstanding, I will do so.’

Thomas could do no more and turned to leave. As he did so, a figure entered the tent. Thomas froze. He was black-hatted, black-cloaked, and carried a silver-topped cane. For a long moment the two men stared at each other. Rush spoke first. ‘Thomas Hill. Well, well. I’m indebted to you. You have saved me a great deal of trouble by coming here.’

‘Do you know this man, Tobias?’ asked Ayscue, in surprise. ‘He’s Willoughby’s secretary.’

Rush laughed. ‘Ha. Is that what he told you? Willoughby’s secretary indeed. This man is a common criminal, sent to
Barbados as an indentured servant. He has probably murdered his masters and stolen their money. Or, rather, my money.’ The black eyes held Thomas’s. ‘Guards, take this man.’

Two guards immediately appeared from outside the tent. Each took one of Thomas’s arms. He stood pinioned between them, still staring at Rush. The three men at the table rose. ‘Is this true, Hill? If it is, you’re a spy.’

‘I am neither a murderer nor a thief, sir,’ replied Thomas steadily, ‘nor a spy. I am principal secretary to his lordship and am here on his orders.’

‘And are you an indentured man, Hill?’ asked Modyford suspiciously.

‘I was until my masters died. Then I was appointed by his lordship.’

‘How did they die?’

‘They were killed at Six Mens Bay.’ The lie was secure. Rush could not know otherwise.

‘And how did an indentured man come to be appointed to such a position?’ asked Drax.

Before Thomas could answer, Rush interrupted. ‘No matter how. I know this man. He’s not to be trusted. He’s a spy. He should be hanged without delay.’

‘And what about his letter of authority?’ asked Modyford, handing it to Rush.

Rush barely glanced at it. ‘Forged. I have seen this man forge documents before.’

Ayscue hesitated. Arresting Willoughby’s secretary would be a serious breach of convention. ‘How do you come to know this man, Tobias?’

‘It’s a long story, Sir George. I would not wish to detain you
with it now. Instead, I’ll give you proof. Remove your shirt, Hill, and turn round.’ Thomas had no choice. ‘There, gentlemen. Unmistakable signs of the whip. Who but a criminal would carry those?’

Still unconvinced, Ayscue said, ‘Hardly proof, but evidence of something odd. What have you to say, Hill?’

‘I was whipped by my masters, sir. It was their pleasure to do so.’

‘Lies!’ shouted Rush. ‘You’re a traitor and a spy. Sir George, you have my word on it. This man is dangerous. He must be hanged.’

‘I trust Tobias,’ Drax assured them. ‘If he says this man is a traitor, then he is a traitor.’

‘Very well,’ replied Ayscue. ‘Hill, if you are not who you say you are, you will be hanged. Until then you will be our prisoner. Take him to the
Rainbow
and lock him up.’

Escorted by the two guards, Thomas was marched out of the tent and down the hill to the harbour. There he was put on a longboat guarded by six soldiers and rowed out to the
Rainbow
, where he was taken below and locked in a tiny cabin.

It had all happened so quickly that Thomas had barely had time to think. Once in the cabin, he sat on the narrow cot which was the only thing in it, and wondered what else fate might have in store. This was hardly the ship he had in mind to take him home. Not that going home looked likely. The end of a rope or worse was what lay in store now. Rush. If the monster was here, where were Margaret and the girls? Left at home under guard or despatched to the poorhouse? Or had he murdered them too? And how did he come to be with Ayscue? Talked his way into a lucrative position as adviser of some kind probably and expecting rich pickings when Ayscue took over.

It was a sleepless night. By morning, he had come up with scores of questions and no answers. His mind was scrambled, he was stiff and cold and he wondered if he had been condemned to death by thirst and hunger. Soon after dawn, however, the cabin door was unlocked and a grizzled old man entered with a plate of bread and chicken and a cup of water.

‘Good morning, sir,’ he said with a toothless grin, ‘I’m Ned. I’m to look after you. Make sure you get food and water and don’t run off.’

‘Where would I run to, Ned? I can’t walk on the sea.’

Ned managed a throaty gurgle. ‘No, sir. And lucky for you, because it means you’re allowed an hour on deck each day. I’ll fetch you this afternoon. In the meantime don’t go getting ideas. There’s two guards outside the door and both of them is a mite hasty with a knife.’

Thomas passed the morning dozing and thinking. He wondered what had induced him to volunteer to act as Willoughby’s envoy and what lies Rush had been telling Ayscue about him. He wondered about Margaret and the girls. And he wondered how Willoughby could avoid a battle which he must surely lose.

That afternoon, having walked ten times round the ship with a cloak provided by Ned over his head, Thomas was about to go below when a longboat emerged out of the rain and spray and came alongside. Out of curiosity he waited to see what it brought, expecting barrels of food and drink to be manhandled up to the
Rainbow
.

To his surprise, however, the first person who clambered up the ladder and on to the deck was a woman. She was followed by eleven others, all complaining noisily about the scabby soldiers and
the leaking boat that had brought them there. After the women came the marines, each armed with a pistol and a cutlass. These were tavern women, doubtless offered a few shillings to boost the morale of men who had been more than ten weeks on the
Rainbow
.

The marines set about herding the women towards the bow, where a short ladder led down to the deck below. Thomas followed them down. At the bottom of the steps, the woman in front of him stumbled. Thomas put his hand under her elbow to steady her. The woman turned. It was a face he recognized at once. Snub nose, green eyes, auburn hair. The last time he had seen her, this woman and her mother had just been savagely raped by the brutes. He had never forgotten the hatred on their faces.

Seeing Thomas, the woman smiled. Without speaking, she touched his face, just as she had once before. Thomas was about to say something when there was a shout from in front of them and the woman hurried off to begin her night’s work. He watched her go, then went to his cabin. It was her, beyond doubt, and she had recognized him. So she had survived; as, he supposed, had he. Survivors both.

The second of Thomas’s daily meals came at six o’clock. When it arrived, Thomas said, ‘Looks like you’ll be enjoying yourselves tonight, Ned. Twelve women I counted.’

Ned grunted. ‘No use to me, sir. Long past it, I am. Caught the pox in Jamaica and lost interest years ago. It’s the bottle keeps me company now.’

‘The young men’ll have a good time, though. How long will the women stay?’

‘The boat’ll be back before the eight o’clock bell. That’s our orders.’

‘Do they visit all the ships?’

‘Must do. The sailors are bad enough but those Virginia farmers are worse. They expect a new woman every day.’ Farmers, not soldiers.

‘Do they now, Ned? Farmers, eh? Must be all those bulls they keep making them lusty.’ Ned laughed and left Thomas to his dinner.

Now Thomas knew the truth of the newly arrived fleet, he must get a message ashore, but how? He sat and thought.

When Ned returned for Thomas’s plate, he had decided that a risk must be taken. ‘It’s been lonely down here on my own, Ned, even with you for company,’ he said. ‘Could you find me one of the girls for half an hour?’

‘I don’t know about that, sir. I’d be in trouble if I was caught.’

‘A shame, Ned. Just what I need, a woman, especially if she has the Irish look about her. Red hair and green eyes are what I’ve always had a weakness for. Are there any like that, do you know?’

‘There might be, sir. I couldn’t rightly say.’

‘Could you take a look, Ned? There’ll be five sovereigns in it for you when I’m released.’

‘If you’re released, sir, as I hope you will be. Five sovereigns, eh? You must be lonely. I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Thank you, Ned. Don’t be too long, mind. I might fall asleep.’

Before long, Ned was back. ‘You’re in luck, sir. There’s one just as you like ’em. Young, too. She’s busy now, so I’ll bring her along when she’s free.’

An hour later, there was a knock on the cabin door and Ned ushered the woman in. ‘There you are, sir. Red hair and green eyes, as ordered. I’ll be back for her when the boat arrives.’

The woman stepped into the cabin. Her hand went to her mouth.

‘Don’t be frightened,’ he said gently. ‘What’s your name?’

BOOK: The King's Exile (Thomas Hill Trilogy 2)
12.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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