The King's Exile (Thomas Hill Trilogy 2) (14 page)

Rush hid his surprise. ‘I am aware that you have disobeyed me and made certain enquiries.’ The lie came easily.

‘You are not the only one with contacts, Rush. I know that a ship named the
Dolphin
left Southampton for Barbados in March last year and I know that my brother was among the prisoners on board. I want proof that he arrived safely and is alive.’

‘And if you don’t get it?’

‘My daughters and I will disappear.’

‘You will be found.’

‘That is a chance we will take. I want to know that my brother is alive.’

Rush thought for a moment. ‘I can tell you that he arrived safely at his destination and that I have received no message to suggest that he is not perfectly well.’

‘I want proof.’

‘How do you suggest that I provide such proof?’

‘You will send him a message asking him to write a single word on a sheet of paper to be delivered to me. He will know what the word is and I will know if you attempt another forgery.’

‘Why should I agree to this?’

‘I have explained the consequences if you do not. We will no longer be pawns in your vicious game.’

‘Your brother will suffer if you try to escape me.’

‘If he is alive, he is already suffering. If not …’ Margaret let the thought hang in the air.

‘It has taken you some time to arrive at this.’

‘But now I have.’

Again Rush thought before replying. The woman had surprised him. ‘It will take time.’

‘It is a six-week voyage to Barbados. I will wait until the first day of August. If I do not have the letter by then, I shall assume that my brother is dead.’

‘I could kill you and your daughters now and tell him you are alive and well.’

‘You could, but then your pleasure would be the less. Only he would be under your control and then only by virtue of a lie. If he knew we were dead he would have no care for himself. Equally, I could kill you with the loaded pistol on my lap but then I would not know that my brother is alive.’ Margaret raised the pistol just enough for Rush to see the barrel. ‘Since you first came here it has never left my side. You might wish to tell your incompetent spy that.’

‘It will be done.’

Rush did not return directly to the coaching inn but made his way around the old abbey to Church Lane. He turned into a narrow alley running off the lane and stopped outside a rough cottage. He tried the handle, found the door unlocked, and went in. It was a mean hovel, with just a few sticks of furniture. In one corner blankets had been thrown down to make a bed. On the bed lay the man he had come to see and astride him a fat woman with lank red hair. He slid the blade from his cane and thrust it into the woman’s neck. Blood spurted from the wound and she fell sideways. A second thrust into her eye and she was dead. Rush glared at the naked man. ‘I do not pay you to spend your time whoring. The woman has been asking
questions.’ The terrified man tried to rise. Rush kicked him back. ‘I have no use for incompetent fools.’ He whipped the blade across the man’s throat, watched him die and left.

WEEKS OF NOTHING
, then, suddenly, a torrent of newsbooks, pamphlets and reports from the Assembly. Despite James Drax’s plea for calm, the king’s execution had given the Walrond brothers the opportunity they had been waiting for and they were not going to miss it.

On the little Speightstown beach, Patrick was bursting with news. ‘While the Assembly was sitting Walrond led a troop of his militia to the Assembly House and demanded to be heard. Bell went out to meet him and found him mounted, dressed as a Royalist officer and backed by a hundred infantrymen armed with muskets and pikes. When Bell demanded to know why he was at the head of an armed force, Walrond replied that he had a thousand men at his disposal and would not hesitate to use them. He insisted that Bell immediately step down as governor and that he be appointed as his successor.’

‘Then what happened?’

‘Bell asked for time to consult the Assembly. When he
appeared again word had spread and a large crowd had gathered. Bell announced that he had resigned and that Humphrey Walrond had been appointed as his successor. And that was that.’

‘And what did Adam Lyte make of it?’

‘He is furious. He does not trust Walrond.’

‘So Barbados has a new governor,’ said Thomas. ‘What will that mean, I wonder?’

‘For you it might mean a way home,’ replied Patrick. ‘Walrond has hinted at an early release for men indentured to any landowner who refuses to swear an oath of loyalty to the king.’

‘Has he now? Awkward for the brutes.’

‘Let’s hope the brutes refuse to swear. Then you can go home and they can go to hell.’

‘An excellent outcome.’

‘However, Mr Lyte thinks that we’ll soon see Cromwell’s ships in Carlisle Bay. And there’s another thing. Word has come that Lord Willoughby has Charles Stuart’s commission to take over as governor and plans to sail soon.’

‘Lord Willoughby of Parham?’ asked Thomas in surprise. ‘Once Parliamentarian admiral, now loyal servant of the man who would be king?’

‘The same. Mr Carrington and he have known each other since they were boys.’

‘So we shall be visited by both sides.’

‘Probably, and one way or another there’s going to be trouble. On some estates there’s been singing in the fields. The news of master fighting master has spread fast. There is unrest among the slaves and some are waiting for the right time to strike. I have warned the Lytes.’

Thomas sighed. ‘Bell and Walrond, Cromwell and Willoughby, master and slave, king and Parliament. I fear you’re right, my friend.’

‘The Lytes are talking of building defences around the estate and laying in stocks of food and weapons.’

‘I don’t suppose they’d like me to come and help?’ asked Thomas. ‘I’m sure the brutes wouldn’t mind.’

‘And how are the brutes, Thomas? Charming as ever?’

‘Bestial. One night they had two whores at the house – mother and daughter. They nearly killed them.’

‘For the love of God, Thomas, don’t provoke them. They could easily kill you.’

‘Adam Lyte told me it was your idea for him to offer to buy me.’

‘It was, and I’m sorry it took so long. He was not willing to speak to a magistrate about you, and that seemed to be the end of the matter. I only thought of buying you later. How much did he offer?’

‘Forty guineas.’

Patrick whistled. ‘A lot. Will they take it?’

‘You haven’t heard?’

‘No.’

‘They won’t sell me.’

‘Damnation. Why not?’

‘They should have been tempted. There must be a reason why they refused. They treat me like an animal but they haven’t whipped me to death and they won’t take forty guineas for me. They could get three more animals for that.’

‘It is odd, I agree. And what now? For the love of God, please do nothing foolish.’

‘For the love of my family, I shall try to survive. What else is there?’

The following week Thomas was in his hut, working diligently at his ledger, when he heard what sounded like a troop of horses arriving at the house. Knowing the Gibbes were out in the fields, he put down his quill and went to attend to the visitors. There were six of them, all mounted and armed. Their leader was a young man, once handsome perhaps, but now raddled by rum and debauchery. He spoke with authority. ‘I am here on the command of the governor, Colonel Humphrey Walrond, to speak to Samuel and John Gibbes. They are, I believe, the owners of this estate?’

‘They are, sir. And I am Thomas Hill, an unjustly indentured man, their bookkeeper and sometime cook.’

‘So, Hill, where are the gentlemen in question?’

‘In the fields, sir, as is their custom. Shall you wait for their return?’

‘I will send word for them. Corporal, Hill will show you where they are. Bring them back at once. We shall wait here.’

The corporal dismounted and followed Thomas back up the path, past his hut and down to the fields. They crossed one field of newly cut cane. Thomas thought the brutes would be in the next field, where he could hear the slaves singing. As they approached, he saw them, whips in hand, overseeing the cutting. It occurred to him how easily one can tell from the set of a man’s head and shoulders what sort of a man he is. Aggression, diffidence, stupidity, intelligence – all are evident without sight of a face. Samuel saw them first. He summoned his brother and they strode towards Thomas and the corporal.

‘What are you doing here, Hill? Why aren’t you at the books? Or have you come to do some real work for a change?’

‘I have brought this gentleman with a message. His captain was most insistent.’

‘Captain, what captain?’

The corporal looked nervous but held his ground. ‘Our captain, representing the governor, is here to speak to you on an urgent matter. He asks you to return with me immediately.’

‘Does he now? And what might he want to speak about?’

‘That I am not at liberty to disclose but the captain has the authority of the governor to insist on your presence.’

‘The governor, eh? Do you hear that, brother, Walrond himself commands us. Then we’d best oblige the man, eh? We can tell him what we think of Royalist fairies.’

The captain and his mounted troop were waiting for them. ‘Are you Samuel and John Gibbes?’

‘We are. And what of it? Who are you and why are you on our land?’

‘I am here with the authority of Colonel Humphrey Walrond, governor of Barbados, to instruct you to present yourselves at the Assembly House at midday tomorrow.’

‘You look familiar. Where have we seen your ugly face before?’

‘That I cannot say. The Assembly House tomorrow at midday, if you please.’

‘And why would we want to do that?’

‘The Assembly has passed a law requiring all landowners to swear an oath of allegiance to Charles Stuart, our rightful king. Your oaths must be sworn and witnessed tomorrow.’

The brothers looked at each other and grinned. Oaths of loyalty? To a Stuart? Who did they think they were dealing with?
The Gibbes did not swear loyalty to anyone unless they were very well paid for it. ‘All landowners, you say?’ asked John shrewdly.

‘That is correct. All landowners.’

‘So has Drax sworn? Or Middleton?’

‘I cannot say.’

‘And what if we refuse?’

‘If you do not attend tomorrow I shall return with a troop to remove you from this property and sequestrate it and all your possessions in the name of the Assembly.’

‘You’d have to fight us first.’

‘So be it.’

Again the brothers exchanged glances. ‘We’ll think about it. Now get off our land before we throw you off.’

Having delivered his message, the captain left.

Thomas returned to his hut to continue working on the books. After the excitement, he found that columns of figures did not hold his attention and after his fifth mistake he closed the ledger and lay down on the narrow bed. Walrond had tried to force the Assembly to agree to an oath of loyalty before, only to find himself thrown out on his ear. Now he had resorted to force and was the governor. That would certainly divide the island and might well lead to war. Royalist sympathizers far outnumbered them but would the Parliamentarians allow themselves to be trampled on? Surely they would fight back. And what would the brutes do? They hated Royalists but they were not fond of Parliamentarians either. Perhaps his time had come. Perhaps he would soon be on a ship headed for England. Perhaps he would see Margaret and the girls before summer in England was over. Perhaps he would find out tomorrow.

Before the Gibbes set off the next morning they told him to
prepare dinner. He knew what they wanted and he knew how to cook it. Meat and plenty of it, bread and wine, with a handful of squashed cockroaches to flavour the meat. And this time, far from dreading their return, he would be waiting impatiently. He would not allow his hopes to get too high but there was a glimmer.

He was in the kitchen when he heard them return and knew at once that the glimmer had died. They were laughing. Condemned men do not laugh. Merciful heaven, what trick had fate played now? He went to find out.

‘There you are, Hill. We’re hungry and thirsty. Bring our food and bring wine. We’re celebrating.’

Celebrating? God’s wounds, celebrating what? He soon found out. When he brought the wine through, they were bellowing with laughter and congratulating themselves on their success.

‘Ha. So much for that, eh, brother? Nothing more than a piss in the wind.’

‘Swear a poxy oath or give up our estate and be shipped back to England? What did they think we’d do? Who gives a whore’s arse for an oath? I’ll swear all they want if it suits me. And today it does. To hell with them all.’

‘And there’ll be chances for us, Samuel. We’ll get more land if we keep an eye open. There’s bound to be some for sale to honest Royalists like us.’

‘Bound to be, brother. A toast to Charles Stuart. He has our loyal allegiance.’

‘And another to Cromwell. So does he.’

Thomas came back with a loaf of bread and a plate of mutton. ‘What about you, Hill? Would you like to drink a loyal toast to anyone? How about the king of France? Or the Pope?’