Conflict and Courage (17 page)

Likewise, Anne
had managed to keep the escape hidden from prying eyes and it was
not until the children’s schoolteacher arrived to ask why they had
not turned up for morning class, that their disappearance came to
light. Not satisfied with her pleas that Lysbet had told her she
might take the children out for a walk first thing to get some
fresh air as they were not feeling too well, he had shouldered his
way past and through to their inner room where he made the
unpleasing discovery that they were not there.

His shouts
alerted the guards who, after a thorough search of the rooms, began
a systematic hunt through the buildings. This search had just begun
when the overseer arrived with the news of his errant
cattleman.

Still they did
not connect the two.

When
questioned, Anne maintained that she knew nothing, that she was
tired and thought Lysbet had taken the children somewhere, for a
walk perhaps to let her rest. Then, as the minutes ticked by and
there was still no sign of them, she rounded on the hapless
lieutenant in charge of the searchers, demanding that he find her
children and attendant, even going so far as to accuse him of
hiding them from her. If the lieutenant’s baffled expression was
anything to go by, Anne decided, through lowered eyelashes, this
was the way to go. He didn’t know what to think.

“Calm down
madam,” he hissed in exasperation as Anne burst into tears, to the
man’s horror the sobs getting louder with each breath until she
appeared hysterical. Later, Anne marvelled at her acting
abilities!

The lieutenant
did the most sensible thing he could, he sent a runner for Lord
Cocteau who arrived posthaste. He had been dealing with one of the
guards who had been found ‘presumably’ sleeping off the effects of
an alcoholic overindulgence the night before and who had absented
himself without leave from his duty post outside Anne’s
apartments.

“The children
are missing and I can’t get her calmed,” said the lieutenant,
frantic that this should happen during his shift. He well knew the
importance of the child Anne was carrying and if anything should
happen, Sam Baker’s revenge was likely to be brutal and
painful.

“Get the
doctor,” ordered Cocteau to one of the guards at the door. “Then
send a detail to get Ulla Pederson from my house and bring her
here. Run her up the hill if you have to.”

He left to
oversee the search.

By midday it
was obvious that Lysbet and the three children had gone. Some
off-duty soldiers remembered they had seen a small party moving in
the courtyard in the dead of night, but had not reported it. Then
someone remembered the fire at the pier-head. It had not been a
large conflagration but an investigative party was sent downhill to
ask questions. At the same time, five small boats that had been
tied up beside the jetty the previous evening were unaccounted for.
One was missing; the other four were found bobbing around a little
way downriver. It was presumed that a careless dockworker hadn’t
tied them up properly and they had come adrift during the
night.

A squad of men
was despatched to try and find the missing boat. A second squad was
sent to retrieve the rest. It took some time to start them because
the power leads of the simple engines had been disconnected, but by
mid-afternoon they set off, overtaking the two search parties that
had been ordered to search along the riverbanks on foot.

That evening
the missing boat was found lodged under an overhanging tree, but,
confusing the issue, there were no tracks leading away from it.
Michael Wallace’s people had done their work well. Incidentally, he
was almost as good an actor as Anne was an actress. No one even
remotely suspected Duchesne’s bleary-eyed sergeant of nefarious
deeds when he emerged from his bed nursing what was, to all intents
and purposes, a monumental hangover.

As dusk fell,
when Henri Cocteau realised the missing four had been nowhere near
the river, a chance comment brought Gerry’s disappearance to his
attention (he had not been present when the overseer had made his
initial report) and he was much quicker on the uptake than the
others. He immediately moved the search parties to the animal
corrals and beyond, but it was way too late, by then it was dark
and raining hard. The downpour had obliterated any tracks and if
the five had gone that way, it was as if they had disappeared into
thin air.

When
questioned, Anne continued to play the distraught mother, one
minute demanding the Lords return her children, the next screaming
that they were dead or kidnapped. Of her muttered ramblings whilst
under the influence of the periodic sedatives she was given,
neither Ulla Pederson nor old Doctor Arthur Kurtheim said a
word.

“She must know
something,” insisted the cantankerous Lord Gardiner. “Let me
question her.”

“Such an action
would be most unwise,” Doctor Arthur insisted. He then proceeded to
warn the Lords, Baker and Gardiner in particular, that further
questioning might have a harmful effect on her pregnancy, causing
the child to be born prematurely with the risks inherent in such
births.

The argument
stopped and Doctor Arthur was not so politely requested to
leave.

“My men have
been searching north and to the east,” offered Duchesne, thinking
it was about time he entered the conversation, “we have found
nothing.”

“Do you think
the north had anything to do with it?” asked Cocteau. “I mean, they
have vanished so completely. Perhaps the Lind came and spirited
them away and this Gerry, I can find no trace of him amongst the
Electra
prison records.”

“Indeed? You
can’t have looked properly and many of the men changed their names
during the first months.”

“There was
however a crew livestock handler called Gerry Russell. He could
have escaped the killing and then hidden himself amongst us.”

Sam Baker
thought for a moment, “what Cocteau is suggesting makes a lot of
sense. If this Gerry was a survivor from the Electra’s crew and
there was a rescue mission composed of northerners and Lind, that
would account for the fact that we can find no trace of them in the
vicinity. We all know how fast the Larg can run and I don’t suppose
the Lind are much different.”

“I don’t think
we’ll catch them,” agreed Cocteau.

Gardiner had
been listening; his face was growing red with rage.

“I will not be
gainsaid I’m telling you. We hunt ‘til we find them,” Gardiner
thumped the table hard in frustration.

“You can hunt
away to your heart’s content but you shall not discuss this with
Anne,” said Baker in a clipped accent. “I shall have words with her
myself.”

He strode out
of the room and, without knocking, entered Anne’s apartment. His
words were direct and brutal.

“You think you
are so clever, do you not?” he sneered.

Anne merely
looked at him, which drove him to utter further angry words.

“The only thing
saving your hide bitch is the fact that you are carrying this
child. We shall find the runaways; never fear and when we do, you
shall never see your children again. You will spend the remainder
of your pregnancy here in these rooms under very close guard and
another attendant will be allocated to you, one whom I trust to
report any behaviour not to my liking.”

Anne lowered
her face in a semblance of acquiescence; her heart however was
brimming over with happiness. Sam Baker did not know about the Lind
involvement with the escape; he might suspect but he did not
know
. He thought they were trying to get away on foot and
were still close by. She hid her joy from him with a great deal of
difficulty.

“Attend me
woman,” Baker barked, “once the child is born, I shall decide what
your future will be.”

With that
threat he stalked out.

“The children
are away,” Anne breathed joyously as she watched him leave, eyes
lowered in the deference expected of her.

“You are a
brave woman Anne Howard,” said Doctor Arthur, he had listened to
the conversation from round the corner, “I know what you have
done.”

All colour
drained from Anne’s face.

Raising his arm
to forestall any comment, he continued, “now, don’t worry, your
secret is safe with Ulla and me. We shall not betray you.”

“How did you
know?” faltered Anne.

“You muttered
and worried about it all the time you were under sedation, but we
made sure that no one was about. You could have left with them, I
presume the Lind were involved?”

Anne nodded
mutely.

“Then you could
have gone and got away too, but you knew did you not that if you
had, treaty or not, the Larg might well have attacked us?”

“There are
innocent women and children here,” said Anne, “I have a conscience.
I could not leave them here to die if the Larg came and there are
some good men amongst you, no matter what you have done in the
past. I had to stay, but I miss my children so much it’s breaking
my heart.”

“Such bravery
deserves more reward than you are likely to get,” Doctor Arthur
said. “I know what it is to lose a child. I had children once
myself. After I was sentenced I never saw them again.” He pulled
out a faded likeness of three young children.

“See,” he said,
showing them to Anne. “They will be adults by now, with children of
their own and here I am on my own. You have a holo of yours?”

“Yes.”

“Keep it safe.
You never know, perhaps you all will meet again one day.”

Ulla Pederson,
standing guard at the door, coughed a warning.

“Someone is
coming,” said Doctor Arthur, getting to his feet.

Anne felt
comforted. It was good to have friends, especially when most of
those around her were not so and especially when the returning
visitor brought distasteful news. It was news she was expecting
though not perhaps so soon. It was Sam Baker who had returned. He
stomped through the door like a thunderclap.

“I have
decided,” he declared, “and to hell with what the others might
say.”

“You have
decided what Lord Baker?” asked a super-polite Anne.

“That our
wedding shall take place immediately,” Sam Baker informed Anne.

Anne sighed.
She had expected something like this. Baker wanted to legitimise
his position as leader of the Conclave and the most obvious method
was to marry the mother of Murdoch’s future King.

“You will wish
to make preparations,” he sneered, the tone and attitude he would
use ever after with Anne, “of course, the marriage will not be
consummated until after the child is born, but Lady Baker, you
shall be tied both to me and this Kingdom of ours until you
die.”

“Noon
tomorrow,” he said as he stalked to the door.

* * * * *

The five
escapees and their rescuers made their way northwards through the
forest and slept throughout the following day. The second night
they made their way out from the tree line and on to the scrubby
grassland and the Lind edged into the steady lope that ate up the
miles. Four nights later they reached the large forest on the coast
where they felt much safer. They would reach the beaches in two
days where their transport awaited them.

They met no one
during their run north to the coast. The lands were deserted and,
thought Gerry, likely to remain so for some time to come.

“We noticed
that on the way to Fort,” said Louis as they took another short
rest when Gerry voiced his thoughts aloud. “Also, that the convicts
will begin to die off. In twenty years or so the Kingdom’s
population will be much smaller and they will cease to be such a
threat, however well organised they are. Perhaps then there will be
peace between us; at least that is Jim Cranston’s hope.”

* * * * *

Once on the
boat, Aglaya edged towards Gerry who was standing at the taffrail
of the ketch that had come for them. He was thinking deeply of the
past and the future. His thoughts always travelled in Jessica
Howard’s direction, despite his efforts to the contrary.

I am too old
for her. She’s not sixteen until winter.
Jessica would know by
now that her brother and sister were on their way.
Will she
blame me for not getting her mother out?
He was in a despondent
mood, a mood Aglaya sensed.

“Gerry?”

His startled
face turned to look at her. He had not heard her approach.

“Lost in
thought,” he said by way of explanation. “My apologies, I didn’t
realise you were here.”

“I sense sad
thoughts,” she began, “You wish talk about it?”

“That’s very
kind of you,” he said with a small smile, “but it’s, well, a
personal thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Like that is
it?” she said with a gentle wag of her tail, “you look like a young
Lind who has found his eln and does not know what to do about
it.”

“Eln?”

“Mate, loved
one,” she explained. “Like you, we Lind have only one eln in our
life.”

“You are very
perceptive,” said Gerry with some surprise.

“If female love
you?”

“That’s what I
don’t know,” he managed to get out, “and it’s tearing me apart! I
thought of her all the time in the south. She is very young, too
young for me.”

“Has this
female fourteen summers?”

“She’ll be
sixteen come winter.”

“Then what is
problem? She is adult.”

“She needs
someone her own age,” said Gerry, determined not to look at the
bright side of things.

Aglaya
snorted.

“Love know no
age barrier. Who is the female? Is it the one who at Ratvei
rtath?”

“I think so,
yes, her name is Jessica.”

“You must not
lose hope,” she finished, turning away, “perhaps Jessica waits for
you?”