Dark Angel (11 page)

The boy tried to nod, but the movement brought his head closer to the knife, and his eyes opened wider still. Hawkins moved the knife an inch or so away, but kept his hand over the boy's mouth. In this fashion they walked to the clearing where they had left the horses, listening for the sound of the voices that had woken Adam earlier.

But they heard nothing in the clear quiet of the night save a soft neigh and the stamp of a hoof. When they reached the horses, they saw the men, three of them, standing in attitudes of watchfulness, apparently waiting for their lookout to return and tell them there was no danger of pursuit.

Adam stepped forward from the shadow of the rock, his eyes seeking out the man who must be their leader. "These are my horses," he said, his eyes lighting on the shortest of the three, a stocky man with broad shoulders and short thick arms. The startled glances of the other two went toward the short man, which told Adam he had been right in addressing him. "Luis?" one of them said in a strangled voice.

Luis held his ground, his eyes fixed on Adam. "Your horses," he said quietly. He spat, and then he laughed, a full-voiced, raucous sound that split the silence of the night and set his companions laughing as well. "Your horses," he said again when he had caught his breath. "The horses belong to the man who takes them. They are no longer yours, Señor."

Adam raised his hand and Hawkins came forward, pushing the boy before him. The knife gleamed in the moonlight and told its own story. "Leave," Adam said. "Leave now or the boy dies."

Luis became very still. His eyes went to the boy, then back to Adam. "Three horses. Two men."

Adam said nothing. Let him think there was a third man with them, a man who was perhaps also armed.

Hawkins took his hand from the boy's mouth and drew the knife closer to his throat. The boy's knees gave way and he would have fallen had Hawkins not tightened his grip. The boy's voice quavered. "Please, Luis."

There was a flicker of some emotion in Luis's eyes. Adam saw it and thought it was concern for the boy's safety. "Listen to him, Luis," Adam said softly. "The horses are ours. If it takes blood, we will keep them."

His eyes intent on Luis, Adam ignored his other senses. When it was too late, he recognized them: a sour smell of sweat; the sudden warmth of another body behind him. Fool. He should have guarded his back. Before he could move, an enormous arm crushed his chest and a knifepoint rested against his spine.

Luis laughed again and turned to Hawkins. "Let the boy go or your friend is dead."

They could bluff, they could stall, but Adam knew he might well get another knife between his ribs and the end would be the same. They had to give up the boy. He turned his head and met Hawkins's eyes. Hawkins withdrew his knife and pushed the boy forward. The knife disappeared beneath his coat. Please God, these men would let them keep that at least. They might lose the horses, but if they had to walk every step of the way, Adam was going to see Caroline and Emily safe in Portugal.

The boy, let loose from Hawkins's grasp, stumbled across the clearing and fell to the ground before Luis where he lay sobbing out his fear. Luis spat again and kicked him away.

Adam's captor released his hold and withdrew the knifepoint. Adam moved toward Hawkins and was arrested by a heavy hand on his shoulder. He looked round. The man was huge, a half head taller than Adam and twice as broad. Adam had debated taking on the other three, but this glimpse of the fourth man told him it would be futile. They would be little use to Caroline if they were injured and none at all if they were dead.

Adam turned his attention back to Luis, who was conferring in a low voice with the other two men. The boy had risen and joined them. He seemed agitated. He pawed Luis's coat repeatedly, saying something Adam could not quite hear, and Luis repeatedly shook him off. Were they, then, bandits? Unlikely. There was an improvised quality to their foray. Perhaps they were peasants turned thieves by necessity. The armies, both sides, had denuded their land, and both sides would pay handsomely for horses.

There was some kind of hierarchy among these men, and some kind of rough discipline, more than one would expect from a group of villagers bent on a raid. They might be
guerrilleros,
the Spaniards who had taken to harassing the French, stealing their supplies and intercepting their messages. But the
guerrilleros
were now in the north, fighting Clausel's Army. Adam knew there were local groups, not under the direct comand of the
guerrillero
leaders, who undertook to harass the French while they waited out the long winter until the fighting could begin again. If this was such a group, they might hate the British a shade less than the French.

The conference had broken up. Luis moved toward Adam, his walk a swagger that showed his confidence that things would go exactly as he wished. He peered up into Adam's face and a look of uncertainty flickered across his own. "You. Stranger. Where do you come from?"

In this country a stranger could be anyone outside one's village. Adam sometimes claimed Madrid as his home and sometimes, softening his speech, the cities of Andalusia. Despite his height, he was often taken for part gypsy. But this time it might not be safe to claim Spanish blood.

"I am English," Adam said, stepping forward till his face was no more than a foot from Luis's own. Luis made to back away, then stood his ground. It was a small hint of weakness on the other man's part and Adam was quick to follow it up.

"I am bound for the English Headquarters at Freneda, in Potugal, and I carry a message for the general. It must be delivered quickly, my friend. I need the horses."

Luis hesitated. His broad face was covered with dark stubble, but his eyes reflected the moonlight, the whites unnaturally bright. Adam held his gaze and it was Luis who first looked away. "You look like no Englishman," he said.

Adam stifled a groan. No, he did not look English and it had haunted him all his life. "Nonetheless, I am English," he said evenly. "I ride to Freneda, and if I do not arrive in time—" He broke off, leaving the other man to judge how important this might be. "Or can I persuade you to ride there yourself? The message must not be delayed."

Luis drew back, confusion on his face. He had probably never in his life been out of these hills. He raised his hand and his two companions and the boy joined him. Luis seemed to gain confidence from their presence. As well he might. The fifth member of his group, the huge man, was inches from Adam's back. Even in the cold night air Adam could smell his sweat.

"He says he carries a message," Luis said, his voice filled with contempt. "Search him."

No one moved.

"Fools. Search him, I say. You, Pedro." He cuffed one of his companions, a lean, sharp-featured man, causing him to stumble against Adam. Pedro righted himself and flung open Adam's coat. He was clumsy but thorough and Adam offered no resistance. "Here," Pedro said, turning back to Luis and offering the two pieces of paper which were all he was able to find.

Luis looked at him in disgust. "No money?"

Pedro shook his head. "No money. No weapons."

Adam never went armed. They had one knife between them and Hawkins carried it. For safety he carried their money as well, but Luis was not to know that.

Luis bent his head over the papers, frowning heavily. He opened one of them, a large, much-creased sheet of heavy paper covered with a network of spidery lines. His face lightened. "Ah, a map." He held it up to the others. "A map." They nodded, but their eyes showed incomprehension.

Adam held out a hand and pointed to a small circle. "Palencia," he said. It was the name of the nearest town. The others nodded vigorously. He pointed again. "Freneda." This time the nods were less certain. Freneda was nearly a hundred miles away, but they seemed to have no sense of the distance.

Luis folded the map with care and put it in his pocket, then opened the other paper, a smaller sheet covered with a few lines in a bold hand. Adam knew it at once. It was the letter from Lescaut which had saved him once and could now mean his death. Luis angled it to catch the light of the moon, peered at it closely, coughed, then turned it around and peered at it again. He could not read. None of them could.

"A message," Luis said heavily.

"A message," Adam agreed.

"It does not look like English."

"You don't read English, my friend."

"I have seen writing," Luis persisted with a doggedness that surprised Adam. "I have seen French writing, too. They make marks so." He made a quick gesture indicating an accent mark. "I think maybe you tell me lies. I think maybe you are French." He looked around at the others and laughed. They laughed dutifully in return. They did not share Luis's pleasure and were clearly anxious to be done with the strangers and away from this place.

Luis turned back to Adam and pointed a finger at his chest. "So I tell you, stranger, I think you must come with us and speak to my friends. We will take also your horses and your mule, and we will take your saddles, wherever you have hidden them, and we will take as well your provisions. You will show us where they are."

"Luis!" The boy's voice was raised in alarm. He pointed into the darkness where Hawkins should have stood. Adam did not need to look. He saw it from the consternation on their faces. While they were searching him, while all their attention was on what Pedro had found in his coat, Hawkins had disappeared.

Luis was in a rage. "Imbeciles!" he shouted. "May the devil wither your manhood! May you die before your time! After him!"

Pedro laid a restraining hand on Luis's arm. "Three horses, Luis. There will be two of them waiting for us."

Luis spat, but a look of uncertainty crossed his face. "Very well," he said after a moment. "We take the animals and we take the Frenchman. Come." He untied the largest of the horses and threw himself up on his back. The horse shied at the unfamiliar weight. Luis wound his hands in the black mane and gave it a vicious yank. The horse reared, then calmed as Adam called his name. Baron had carried him over Portugal and Spain for the past four years and he would not have him mistreated. But there was little he could do to protect Baron now. Adam's large captor had produced a rope and tied his hands tightly behind him and was even now prodding his back with the knife.

They moved off, the boy leading the mule, Pedro and his companion guiding the other two horses. Then Luis on Baron, with Adam and his captor bringing up the rear. To Adam's dismay they took the direction leading past the cave. Dear God, let Hawkins have had the sense to lock the door.

The stars were fading and it was growing light. They were nearly at the cave when Baron whinnied again and the other horses grew restless. Perhaps some human scent that humans could not smell. Move on, Adam prayed. But instead Luis called a halt. There was another smell, the faint scent of charred wood, and it was enough to tell Luis that this was where his prisoner had camped.

Luis jumped down from Adam's horse and ran to the door. It was locked, but he put his face close to the keyhole and drew a deep breath. "There's been a fire." He turned to Adam and his face split in a huge grin. "Miguel," he called to Adam's captor.

Miguel pushed Adam in front of him. When they reached the door, he knelt and attacked the lock with his knife. Not as gentle as Hawkins, but as effective. The primitive lock gave way and he pulled the door open.

The dawning light spilled into the dark of the cave, revealing the remains of the fire and the huddled figure sitting beside it. Her eyes moved slowly from Miguel to Luis. "A woman," Luis breathed.

It was a moment when Adam could have run, but he could not leave Caroline to face them. He moved toward the doorway. "The third horse, Luis. She brings you no harm."

Luis stayed Miguel, who would have entered the cave and dragged Caroline out, and turned to Adam, a question in his eyes. "She is English," Adam said. "She has been in Acquera, in the hills above Burgos. Her husband was an English soldier and she buried him there. She is daughter to General Hill, Lord Wellington's favorite commander, and I am taking her to him in Freneda."

Luis believed none of it. "With a French message?"

"With a French document, as you were clever enough to see."

The compliment nearly won Luis over. Then his truculence returned. "Woman, come here."

Caroline moved toward the light of the doorway. She looked briefly at Adam, then stood calmly before Luis. "What do you want of me?"

"You speak Spanish," he said. "English people know noting of our tongue. The French do. They are stupid, but in this they are clever. Perhaps you are the Frenchman's whore."

"I am no man's whore," Caroline said with a flash of anger, "and I travel to Freneda. What are you doing with our horses?"

Luis laughed, showing large white teeth in his swarthy face. "Pedro, Carlos," he called. "We have found the saddles. Take them out. Take everything out." The two men hurried toward him, but paused as they reached the cave mouth. "Fools," said Luis. "Can you not see? The third man is only a woman. The second has turned tail and run away."

Pedro and Carlos hesitated, then moved toward the cave, sidling round Caroline who stood in the cave's door. Pedro, with newly made courage, took her roughly by the arm and thrust her aside.

"Mama!" Emily's voice split the air and the men stopped, transfixed by the unexpected sound. Emily hurtled from the shadows at the back of the cave and threw her arms around her mother.

Luis stared at the child in sudden bewilderment. He pointed to Adam. "Is she his?"

Caroline stooped and lifted Emily into her arms. Her chin went up and her voice dripped with the contempt an Englishwoman might show to her inferiors. "Does she look like his child? She is the daughter of Lieutenant Rawley, an English officer who died fighting for your benighted country. Her grandfather is General Hill who expects to see his daughter and grandchild returned safely into his care."

Brava, Caroline, Adam said silently, though her words brought a stab of the pain he had felt the night before when he had asked her about Emily. They had some effect on Luis, who took refuge from his uncertainty in bluster. "Enough! It's time we were on our way. Saddle the horses and the mule. The woman and child come with us till I decide what to do with them."