The King's Exile (Thomas Hill Trilogy 2) (37 page)

‘Agatha.’ It was the first word she had spoken to him.

That was promising. ‘Agatha. It means good. Did you know that?’

‘No, sir, I didn’t. But I remember you, sir. You helped us. Are you wanting something in return?’

He smiled. ‘Not in the way you mean, Agatha. I’m glad to see you alive. And your mother?’

‘You knew she was my mother? Yes, sir, she’s alive. One of them is dead, though, thank the Lord. He was wounded. We made sure.’

‘So is the other. I killed him.’

She nodded. ‘Both dead. I thank God.’

‘There is one thing I would ask of you, Agatha. It won’t be easy and it might be dangerous. Before I tell you what it is, I must know if you will do it.’

She grinned. ‘It won’t be the first time I’ve done something dangerous. And but for you, sir, we might be dead. I’ll do it if I can.’

‘Good. First let me explain how I come to be here.’ While Thomas told his story, Agatha sat silently beside him and listened. She was no stranger to injustice so she believed him when he told her of his arrest and indenture and of his treatment by the Gibbes, of his escape and rescue and of the deaths of his friend Patrick and of the brutal Gibbes brothers. He paused in the telling. ‘Before I explain what I ask of you, have you any questions?’

‘No, sir. Though I’m sorry for the loss of your friend.’

Not just a cold-hearted whore, he thought, she must have
heard it in my voice. A deep listener, just like the Ranters. ‘Thank you, Agatha. Now here’s the important part. I was promised my freedom and passage home in return for a service I provided and for acting as envoy from Lord Willoughby to Sir George Ayscue, who commands this fleet. As you can see, the plan hasn’t worked and here I am a prisoner. However, I do now have some information of great importance which I must get to Captain Charles Carrington, who is with Lord Willoughby’s army. Will you take it for me?’

‘Where will I find him, sir?’

‘First, Agatha, tell me that you will take the message.’

‘I will, sir, if I can.’

‘Good. The message is “Thomas Hill, on the
Rainbow
, says they are settlers from Virginia, not soldiers.”’

‘“Thomas Hill, on the
Rainbow
, says they are settlers from Virginia, not soldiers.” Who do I give it to, sir?’

‘Charles Carrington. Find Lord Willoughby’s army and you’ll find him. Ask around but do not give the message to anyone else. No one, Agatha.’

‘Charles Carrington. What if he doesn’t believe me? Will I be hanged?’

‘No, Agatha, you won’t be hanged. If Mr Carrington asks for proof, say “The Gibbes are dead.”’

‘“The Gibbes are dead.” I can remember that, sir.’

‘Good. Now repeat the message, please. It must be exactly as I have said.’

But before Agatha could repeat the message, there was a loud knock on the door. ‘It’s Ned, sir. The boat is here.’

‘Come in, Ned. All ready for you.’

‘That’s a relief, sir,’ said Ned, opening the door. ‘I was afraid you’d be half-cocked, if you know what I mean.’

‘Fully cocked, Ned, thank you. Here she is.’ With a quick smile, Agatha followed Ned up to the deck.

Thomas lay down and closed his eyes. It’s a slim chance, he thought. She has to find Carrington, she has to deliver the message accurately and she has to be believed. I wouldn’t put a guinea on it.

That night he lay awake, imagining how Agatha would go about her task or, indeed, if she would go about it at all. True, he had probably saved her life and her mother’s, but the prospect of making her way up the hill to Lord Willoughby’s lines, finding Charles Carrington and convincing him that the message was genuine might be too much for her. She might forget her debt and go home. Why would a whore do otherwise? If she did try, how would she persuade the sentries to let her past? The only way she knew how, he supposed. And if she did find Charles, would he see her and, if he did, would he believe her? If, if, if. Would that he could have thought of another way to send word.

Word from the longboats the next day was that battle had not yet commenced and that both sides were still sloshing about waiting for a break in the rain. Thomas could only sit in his tiny cabin and think about Agatha. Even if the girl had found Charles, which was a tall enough order, he would have been quite justified in thinking that under threat of torture Thomas had sent false intelligence and that the fleet really were reinforcements. Willoughby would then have no choice but to agree to Ayscue’s demands, Ayscue would be appointed governor and Rush would demand Thomas’s immediate execution as a spy.

And the message was not his only worry. As far as he knew the deception had not been discovered – he was being treated well
enough – but the arrival of any one of the longboats might bring an order for his death. Even if the message went undetected, Ayscue had made his fate quite plain if he were revealed to be a spy and an indentured man pretending to be the governor’s secretary was certainly a spy. Thomas lay on his cot and listened to the rain.

After a long day with only a brief turn on the deck and an interminable night of worrying and wondering, Thomas was eating his breakfast when the young captain who had first received him on board knocked on his cabin door, entered without being invited to and read out the order. ‘Thomas Hill,’ he announced importantly, ‘this order commands me to have you taken at once to the Assembly House, where you are awaited.’

‘Awaited by whom, captain?’

‘It does not say, but the order is signed by Sir George Ayscue.’

‘May I see it?’ The captain held out the order. The signature was indeed that of Ayscue. ‘Has there been a truce?’

‘That I do not know. Now kindly make haste. The longboat will take you ashore. You will have an escort.’

Accompanied by two armed sailors, Thomas descended the rope ladder and settled into the boat. It was still raining and the sea was choppy, but he hardly noticed. An order from Sir George Ayscue did not augur well. If Willoughby had capitulated, Agatha had not delivered the message or it had been disbelieved and his principal secretary would hang. Rush would get his way.

The trip to the harbour did not take long. Thomas was helped on to the quay by his escort, put into a carriage with two guards and taken to Bridgetown. At the Assembly House they left him in charge of another guard, who showed him to a small antechamber, closed the door and stood to attention outside it. Thomas sat down and waited to learn his fate.

When he heard voices approaching, he stood up. The door was thrown open and Lord Willoughby, resplendent in full ceremonial dress and followed by Charles Carrington and Adam Lyte, swept in. ‘There you are, Thomas Hill. I am much relieved to see you safe.’ His lordship offered his hand. Thomas’s mind went blank and he only just managed not to kiss it.

‘Your lordship, my relief is greater even than yours. I understood that Sir George Ayscue had ordered me to be brought here and feared the worst.’

‘Indeed he did. The
Rainbow
is, after all, his ship. I doubt that his captain would have paid much heed to an order signed by me.’

‘Stop looking as if you’ve seen a ghost, Thomas,’ said Charles, ‘or I’ll have you sent back to the ship.’

‘And you’ve got work to do,’ added Adam, ‘so collect your wits.’

‘Is there another message to be decrypted?’

‘No, no, nothing like that,’ replied Willoughby. ‘As my secretary, you are needed this afternoon for an important task.’

‘May I enquire what the task is?’

‘You may. At two o’clock this afternoon, Sir George Ayscue with Colonels Drax and Modyford will present himself here to discuss and agree the terms of a truce. A condition of the meeting was that my principal secretary be released immediately so that he could record it properly.’

‘When Ayscue objected, I advised his lordship to throw you to the wolves,’ said Charles with a grin, ‘or should that be the sharks? Luckily for you, his lordship ignored my advice and pressed the point. Ayscue eventually decided that Tobias Rush would not get his way.’

‘And here you are,’ said Adam. ‘Mary will be pleased. I had sent word that you were a prisoner with little hope of escape.’

‘I thank you all, gentlemen. I am in your debt.’

‘You are in no one’s debt, Thomas Hill,’ replied Charles firmly. ‘You saved Mary’s life not once but twice, you decrypted a vital message and you managed to get word to us about the squadron. It is we who are in your debt.’

‘So Agatha found you. I doubted she would.’

‘She did, and, armed with the information that the squadron carried settlers, not reinforcements, we were able to persuade Ayscue to agree a truce. Clever of you to tell her to mention the Gibbes. I might not have believed her otherwise. And the message also told us where you were.’

‘I won’t ask how you managed to persuade her, Thomas,’ said Adam. ‘You can tell us later.’

‘So there’s been no fighting?’

‘None. The rain saw to that. It hasn’t stopped for six days. Any battle would have had to be a wrestling match and a muddy one at that. Then Agatha arrived.’

‘Enough of this, gentlemen,’ announced Willoughby. ‘Let us prepare ourselves for the meeting. The future of Barbados hangs on it.’

Of the seven men who sat down at the table in the governor’s study at two o’clock that afternoon, Colonels Drax and Modyford were seated either side of Admiral Sir George Ayscue, Charles Carrington and Adam Lyte opposite them and Thomas Hill beside Lord Willoughby, at the head of the table. Thomas was equipped with a stack of excellent rag paper, half a dozen sharp duck-feather quills and a pot of English oak-apple ink. It had been agreed that he would record the terms of the agreement, which would be enshrined in a ‘Charter of Barbados’.

With typical skill Willoughby proposed that they begin the meeting with each man making a brief personal statement. He knew that this would not only allow grievances to be aired and disposed of but would also encourage a spirit of cooperation, as views expressed in private are invariably moderated in public. Willoughby himself then made a fulsome speech thanking Sir George and his fellow officers for attending the meeting and expressing the fervent hope that agreement on all important issues might be reached. He concluded by saying, ‘It seems that our Lord did not wish a battle to take place on this island and sent us enough rain to ensure that it did not. Let us try our utmost to heed his wishes.’

Ayscue’s reply, although less eloquent, expressed a similar wish. A battle that had looked inevitable had been avoided. Let them try to reach an agreement. Drax spoke again of what he called his betrayal and insisted upon the immediate return of all his property. Modyford made an unconvincing attempt to justify his defection in the interests of peace. And Charles Carrington said that as they wanted to go home, they should reach a speedy agreement and do so.

Four hours later, they had. The Charter of Barbados, written out in Thomas’s neat hand, ensured for the island’s inhabitants freedom of religious belief and worship, the independence of their courts and Assembly, freedom of trade, the return of all lands and possessions to those unjustly deprived of them, indemnities for past deeds and actions and a ban on future sequestrations without due course of law. It also outlawed incitements to violence, guaranteed that no citizen would be expected to swear an oath of loyalty of any kind, recommended the restoration to Lord Willoughby of his estates in England, guaranteed the safe return of any man banished by previous governors, required the disbandment
of all forces and the immediate release of all prisoners on both sides. Finally, it was agreed that the governor of Barbados would be appointed from time to time by the States of England, that the governor would be empowered to choose his Council and that the Assembly would continue to be elected by popular vote. It would be recommended that Sir George Ayscue would replace Lord Willoughby as governor.

By nine o’clock that evening, a final version had been agreed and signed by all those present. It had only to be ratified by Ayscue’s Council and Willoughby’s Assembly.

Their work done, Ayscue and his two advisers rose to leave. Willoughby and Thomas escorted them to the door and walked outside with them. Their guard stood smartly to attention. ‘Thank God that more bloodshed has been avoided,’ said Willoughby, ‘and just in time.’

‘Just in time?’

‘You haven’t noticed, Sir George? The rain has stopped.’

Admiral Sir George Ayscue, carrying the commission of Parliament to assume the governorship of Barbados, yawned. It had been a long day.

Lord Willoughby turned to Thomas. ‘Thomas, unless you would like to stay on as my principal secretary, Adam will arrange for the next available ship to take you to England.’

‘Your lordship’s offer is a generous one, but my family are in England.’

‘So be it,’ said Willoughby, extending his hand. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’

‘Just one thing. I would be grateful if you would give Sir George five sovereigns for the man Ned who looked after me on the
Rainbow
.’

As if he were quite accustomed to such requests, Lord Willoughby produced a leather purse from his pocket, counted out the sovereigns and handed them to Sir George Ayscue.

‘Thank you, your lordship,’ said Thomas. ‘I have two more matters to attend to and then I shall be ready to go home.’