The King's Exile (Thomas Hill Trilogy 2) (38 page)

BOOK: The King's Exile (Thomas Hill Trilogy 2)
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THE BRUTES’ GOLD
first, then Rush. When he arrived at the track leading to the brutes’ hovel the next morning, Thomas dismounted and left his horse in the shade on the corner of the road. For a reason he could not explain he was nervous returning to this place, half expecting the brutes to jump out of the trees and set about him with their whips. Come now, Thomas, the brutes are gone, there’s no one here but you and it won’t take long to do what you’ve come for and be away. Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, he strode up the track.

But there was someone there. Tethered to the listening tree was a horse harnessed to a flat cart of the kind used for transporting barrels of sugar. Very cautiously he moved forward, alert to any movement or sound. Hearing a voice, he crept round the hovel, keeping within the cover of the trees. A shirtless man armed with a long-handled shovel was frantically digging at the privy. Thomas smiled. It was the new privy, not the old one where he suspected the gold was buried, and the man was covered in filth. Who the
digger was he had no idea but he would not find the gold there.

When he glimpsed movement in the trees beyond, however, his smile disappeared. There was no mistaking the figure in black watching from the shade. And when he spoke, there was no mistaking his voice. ‘Get on with it, man. I’m not paying you to dig like an old woman. Bend your back or I’ll bend it for you.’ Tobias Rush had got there first.

Thomas could see that the filth-covered digger was exhausted and no threats from Rush were going to give him strength. He would soon have to rest.

‘I’ve dug out all the shit,’ the man grumbled, ‘and there’s nothing here. How deep do I have to go?’

‘As deep as I tell you,’ snarled Rush, ‘and be quick about it. I know it’s buried down there and I want to be away.’

The wretched man dug for another minute or so, then abruptly stopped. Leaning on his shovel and looking up at Rush, he cursed loudly. ‘That’s as far as I’m going. There’s nothing here. If you don’t believe me, dig it yourself. I’ll take my money and be gone.’

‘Money? You get no money from me, you idle pig. Dig or be damned.’

For a moment, the digger stared at Rush. Then he climbed slowly out of the hole. When he threw the shovel Thomas was just as surprised as Rush. It hit Rush in the face and knocked him to the ground. Rush dropped the silver-topped cane and, in a trice, the man was on him, his hands around his throat. Thomas did not move. There was a pistol shot and the man rolled off Rush. The flintlock must have been primed and hidden somewhere inside Rush’s cloak. The man lay still. Rush got to his feet, dusted himself down and picked up the shovel. He left the man where he lay, took off his cloak and climbed down into the hole.

Carefully keeping behind Rush, Thomas moved out of the shadows and crept towards the hole. Twice he thought Rush had heard him and was about to turn round, but he was too intent on his digging to notice anything. Thomas reached the cane and picked it up. He knew this cane well enough. He had another just like it at home in Romsey. Twisting the silver handle, he pulled out the narrow blade and tested the tip with his finger. Needle-sharp, just like its twin.

‘You won’t find anything there, Rush,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s the wrong privy.’ Rush stopped digging and turned slowly towards him. His head was little higher than Thomas’s knees.

‘Hill. So we meet again.’

‘Indeed we do. Now kindly drop the shovel. As you can see, I have luckily come across this swordstick lying on the gound. The blade is made of the finest Toledo steel, you know. Very sharp.’ Rush put down the shovel, his eyes never leaving Thomas.

‘And now what do you propose, Hill?’ asked Rush with a smirk. ‘If you kill me, you will never see your sister and her lovely daughters again.’

‘Is that so? Now that the truce has been signed, I will soon be on my way back to England. Lord Willoughby is arranging my passage. I shall find Margaret and the girls, whether you’re dead or alive.’

Rush snorted. ‘Not in England, you won’t. They’re here, hidden safely away and under guard. The guard has orders to kill them if I have not returned by tonight.’

‘I don’t believe you, Rush. Why would you bring them here and why would you tell me where they are?’

‘If I told you they were in England, I would be of no further use to you and you would kill me. As they are here, I will take you
to them in return for my freedom. I brought them here because I thought they might like to see how you were faring with the Gibbes. It would have amused me to observe your nieces’ tears. The Gibbes may be dead but at least they’d told me where the gold would be.’

‘It seems they misled you. If there’s gold, it’s in the old privy over there.’ Thomas gestured with the sword.

Rush nodded. ‘In that case let me suggest a bargain. I will dig out the gold, which we will share. Then I will take you to your sister. She and her daughters will be yours.’

‘How do I know I can trust you?’

‘You don’t. But can you take the risk? Kill me and your sister and nieces will die.’

‘And if I don’t kill you?’

‘You must rely on my word. In truth, I’m a little tired of them. Pastures new for Tobias Rush, I fancy.’

Thomas considered the proposal. Rush’s word was worthless but could he take the risk? He would have to find Margaret before nightfall. ‘Very well, Rush, I agree.’ He stared at Rush, watching his reaction. ‘With one small change.’

‘Which is?’

‘You will first tell me where they are, then you may climb out of that shithole.’

‘How do I know I can trust you?’

‘You don’t.’

‘Touché.’ Rush thought for a moment. ‘As you wish. Your sister and her daughters are at a house on Long Bay, to the east of Oistins. I will take you there when we’ve found the gold.’

‘If you’re lying, Rush, I will kill you.’

‘I know. That is why I have told you the truth.’

‘Then you’d better start digging. Long Bay is a good fifteen miles away,’ said Thomas, stepping back to allow Rush room to clamber out.

Rush threw the shovel out and hauled himself up until his knees were clear of the hole. He knelt on the ground, as if to catch his breath. Thomas’s eyes never left him and did not miss the hand slipping under the shirt. Even before it emerged with the dagger, he had the point of the swordstick at Rush’s throat.

‘You lied, Rush. I knew you would. So did I.’ The sword slipped smoothly into Rush’s neck. There was a fountain of blood and Rush’s eyes widened in shock. Thomas pulled out the sword and used his boot to kick the dying man back into the hole. Then he took the shovel and heaped earth and filth over him until the hole was full.

Panting for breath, Thomas leaned for a moment on the shovel and looked for any sign of movement in the hole. There was none. Rush was dead – but he would have to move fast. He wasted no time in setting about the old privy, shovelling out heaps of soil and muck as quickly as he could.

The first bag was about three feet down, four more just below it. He heaved each one out. If there were more, they would have to stay there. Perhaps some lucky person would find them in a hundred years’ time.

It took him five trips to load five foul-smelling bags on to Rush’s cart. Rush had been dead an hour when Thomas climbed up and took up the reins. Then a thought occurred. He jumped off the cart and ran up the path to his hut. The door was open and he went in. On the table was the silver inkwell and under the cot was the list of adjectives. He put both in a pocket.

Then he ran on up the path and down to the slaves’ quarters.
He knew before he reached the huts that they were deserted. There were no voices and no smells of cooking. The slaves had taken their chance and escaped. Despite the attack on the Lytes’ estate, he hoped they would survive in the woods. They had suffered enough. He ran back to the cart and set off for the Lytes’ house.

It was midday when the horse, hot and tired from being urged on at a pace he was not used to, pulled the cart up beside the Lytes’ parlour. Thomas jumped down and ran into the house. There was no sign of Adam, but Mary was there, reading a book and sipping a glass of wine. She looked up when she heard him.

‘There you are, Thomas. I was worried. Where have you been?’

‘Mary, my apologies. I thought it best not to tell you in case you tried to stop me. I’ve been at the Gibbes’s estate. There are five bags of gold outside. Could someone help me bring them in?’

‘Certainly, although if they smell like the last bag of gold that came here, it won’t be me. Fetch one of the men from the kitchen.’

When the bags had been unloaded and put in an empty storeroom, Thomas returned to Mary. ‘Is Adam here?’ he asked. ‘I must be off at once and could do with his help.’

‘Adam has gone to Bridgetown. The Assembly meets today to confirm Sir George Ayscue as governor. Why do you need help?’

‘Tobias Rush is dead. I believe my sister and nieces are under guard at a house on Long Bay. They will be killed if I don’t rescue them by nightfall.’

‘Your sister is here?’

Thomas nodded.

‘Then we must waste no time. Long Bay is a good ride from
here. Saddle two horses, Thomas, while I change my clothes.’

‘Mary, this will be dangerous. I can’t possibly allow you to come. Let me take someone else.’

‘Nonsense, Thomas. I won’t hear of it. And a woman’s touch might be just what’s needed. Now go and prepare the horses.’

Thomas had heard that tone before. He went to find two good horses.

By the time they had covered half the distance to Long Bay, Mary had heard about Rush’s death and what he had said about Margaret and her daughters. There was no certainty that they were at Long Bay but it was all they had. And Thomas suspected that Rush, perversely, had for once told the truth in the expectation that he would kill Thomas before he could act upon it. It was just the way his devious mind would work.

She suggested a plan. ‘Long Bay is a wild spot. I didn’t know there were any houses there. That’s probably why Rush chose it. I’ll approach the house from the front, knock on the door and pretend to be lost. I’ll distract the guard while you look for a back entrance. Get inside and find your sister. If she doesn’t faint when she sees you, keep her quiet somehow. And the girls. No screaming and no shouting. Get them out and run. I’ll keep the guard busy as long as I can.’

It was a hasty plan; the guard might be impervious to Mary’s charms, there might be more than one of them and Thomas might not be able to keep at least one of the girls from screaming. They’d probably take him for a thief and call for help. After all, it was nearly four years since they’d seen him. But there was no time for a better plan. If the guard really was under orders to kill them, it would have to do.

Long Bay was well named. A narrow strip of sand perhaps
four hundred yards long, it curved elegantly beneath a steep cliff facing out to the Atlantic. Waves swept up the bay, entirely covering the sand, only to wash quietly back to the ocean. It was a lonely place and at first they saw no houses.

They rode along the cliff top almost the length of the bay before a cottage appeared, partly hidden by a stand of trees and no more than ten yards from the cliff edge. Rush had chosen well. It was a good place to hide, easy to defend, and he had probably used it before. Thomas tethered his horse and made his way through the trees to the other side of the cottage. From there he would creep along the cliff top to the back, hoping to find an easy way in.

When Thomas had disappeared into the trees, Mary rode up to the door of the cottage, dismounted and knocked loudly. She had undone two buttons on her dress and hitched it up above her ankles. She hoped the guard was one for the ladies and when a tall young man answered the door, she thought she might be in luck. Dark-haired, brown-eyed and with a scar down his left cheek, he looked promising. Mary decided to play all her cards at once. She gave him a dazzling smile and smoothed her hair with a hand. ‘Excuse me, sir. I was out for a ride and seem to be lost. My horse is a little lame too. Could you direct me to the road for Oistins?’

The guard also thought his luck was in. A pretty lady, lost and alone, and in need of help. Just the thing to cheer him up. ‘Why don’t you come inside, miss, while I take a look at your horse?’ he offered.

‘That is most kind of you, sir, but I must be on my way. If you could just give me directions.’

The guard had noticed the buttons and the ankles and was not to be put off so easily. ‘Come now, miss, a glass of wine will do you good. Step inside for a minute.’

‘You’re too kind, sir. But would you look at the horse first? I’d like to be sure he’s sound.’

‘Very well, miss. I’ll do that.’ He shut the door, carefully locking it behind him, and walked over to the horse. He examined each hoof in turn, ran his hands up and down each leg and patted it on the rump. ‘I’d say he’s sound, miss. Can’t see anything wrong.’

‘Oh, good. He seemed to be favouring a front leg. Perhaps I was mistaken.’

‘Must have been, miss. Now shall you have that glass of wine?’

Before Mary could reply, there was a shriek from inside the cottage. The young guard, wine forgotten, ran back to the door. The lock delayed him but a moment and he was inside within seconds. Tobias Rush had a way of making a man move very fast.

While Mary had been distracting the guard, Thomas had slipped round the cottage and found a back door. He tried the handle but of course it was locked. The shutters of one window were slightly open. He peered through them and, easing his hand in, managed to reach the catch and push them fully open without making any noise. The window was low enough for him to pull himself up and tumble inside head first.

The room was empty. He tried the door. It was locked. He was locked in the cottage in an empty room and had no idea how Mary was getting on, or how many guards there were. There was no time for thought. He would have to act. He stepped back to the window and launched himself at the door. It creaked but held. He tried again. This time the lock broke and he fell through the doorway. Three terrified faces looked down at him sprawled on the floor and one of them screamed.

BOOK: The King's Exile (Thomas Hill Trilogy 2)
12.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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