The King's Falcon (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 3) (73 page)

‘I wasn’t going to wait for that. I was planning to take them down as soon as they came ashore.’
 
Sir William watched Ashley’s expression and then drew a long breath. ‘You don’t believe me, do you?’

‘If you were in my position, would you?’

‘Probably not.’

‘I take it you can’t prove anything you’ve told me?’

‘Right now?
 
No.
 
Of course, by now Hyde ought to have guessed that I’ve been flirting with the enemy – since the information he’s been receiving from me recently couldn’t have been obtained any other way.
 
But he’s not here so you can’t ask him.’

‘That’s convenient for you.’

‘No.
 
Actually, it isn’t.’

‘Really?
 
Any minute now you’ll be telling me that Hyde heard all about the assassination plot from you – which I know damned well he didn’t.’

‘No,’ agreed Will.
 
‘So the question is – what are you going to do now?’

As yet, Ashley had no idea.
 
One part of him said,
Give him a chance to prove he’s honest
… while another said,
No way in hell
.
 
He could try getting to the truth with his fists but what he knew of Will made him doubt how well that would work. The only thing he knew for certain was that he wasn’t letting him loose for a single minute until this thing was over.

At length, he said curtly, ‘I wish I could trust you but I can’t.
 
So you’re coming with me and staying where one of us can see you until your colleagues from Dover have been dealt with – which is an added complication I could have well done without.’

‘And afterwards?’

‘Afterwards, you can explain yourself to Hyde and Charles and anyone else who wants to listen.
 
So long as you don’t get in my way, I don’t give a tinker’s damn.’ With a flick of his arm, he produced the knife he’d been carrying up his sleeve.
 
‘And don’t think to give me the slip.
 
You know what I can do with this.’

*
 
*
 
*

The first thing that happened when Ashley ushered Sir William ahead of him into the inn was that the landlord started haranguing him about noise and breakages.
 
Shaking him off, Ashley assured him that everything would be taken care of and continued nudging Will up the stairs.
 
When he arrived outside room where he’d left his three friends, he took the precaution of knocking in case one of them was waiting to bash any further intruders over the head.
 
The door swung open on Francis, brandishing a pistol.
 
His knuckles were skinned and a bruise was starting to darken his jaw.

‘Oh,’ he said, lowering his aim. ‘In an absence of volunteers, we were just drawing lots to decide which of us ought to go and see if you needed rescuing. Clearly, you don’t.’
 

Ashley pushed Will into the room without speaking, shut the door behind him and looked around. Four men, bound, gagged and somewhat the worse for wear, sat in a row on the floor beneath the window with Jem close by, rhythmically tapping what appeared to be a chair-leg against his open palm.
 
A further glance revealed where the chair-leg had come from, along with other assorted debris.

Ashley sighed.
 
‘Has the inn-keeper asked us to leave?’

‘Not yet.’ Cyrano, who had been reclining at his ease on the bed, swung his feet to the floor and fixed Sir William with a cold stare.
 
‘These others say they’re yours.
 
Is that true?’

‘Yes.’
 
Will looked at them irritably. ‘They weren’t supposed to come in fighting.’

‘We didn’t give them a lot of choice over that.
 
But whatever you’re paying them is probably too much.
 
I’ve known girls who could fight better.’

Ashley nudged Will towards the room’s only remaining usable chair.
 
He said, ‘Sir William would like us to believe him innocent of any evil intent towards the King and that these battered gentlemen were sent here to secure His Majesty’s person.’

‘They attempted to say something of the sort,’ offered Francis.
 
‘The fact that they came in holding pistols made us disinclined to take their word for it.’

‘Likely to be any more of these buggers turning up?’ asked Jem.
 
‘Only if there are, we’re gonna need another room. Unless you got a better idea?’

‘At the moment,’ said Ashley, raking a hand through his hair, ‘I have no ideas at all.
 
Tomorrow night, five men are going to come ashore looking for the King and his brother – which means we can proceed with our original plan, just a day later than expected.
 
As for Sir William and his friends … we can’t let them loose and we’ve nowhere else to put them. Basically, they’re just going to be a bloody nuisance.’

‘You could let my so-called friends go,’ said Sir William. ‘They weren’t doing this for love, you know. Or you could let us help.’

‘Help who?’ asked Francis dryly.
 

Will looked at Ashley.

‘As I remarked earlier, we’ve known each other for some years.
 
Do you honestly believe I’d sell the King or turn my sword on you?’

‘Honestly?’
 
Ashley shook his head.
 
‘I’m no longer sure what you’d do.
 
You lied to me about your dealings with Lucy Walter and I still don’t know what the truth of
that
is.’

‘It was nothing to do with this.
 
If you really want to know, I forged the thrice-blasted marriage lines myself.’

‘You
what?
’

‘I included, as you very well know, a verifiable mistake.
 
I reasoned that, if
I
didn’t do it, someone else would and possibly make a fool-proof job of it.
 
I also wanted to see what Lucy would do next. As I believe I said once before, there was a chance she’d make such an ass of herself that nobody would ever take her seriously again.
 
Of course what she
actually
did was to lose the damned thing and demand a replacement.’

‘Which you provided.’

‘Yes.’
 
He paused, taking in Ashley’s expression.
 
‘Don’t tell me.
 
You know where both copies are.’

‘As it happens, I do.’
 
Ashley looked first at Jem and then at Francis.
 
Finally, dropping his head in his hands, he said weakly, ‘Oh my God.
 
This just gets better and better, doesn’t it?’

~
 
*
 
*
 
~
 
*
 
*
 
~

Everyone passed a very uncomfortable night.
 
Ashley pacified the landlord with money he’d have preferred not to part with; Cyrano placed Sir William’s chair beside his fallen comrades and tied him to it; and Jem and Francis went down to the kitchen in search of supper.
 
Then, the four of them divided the hours of darkness into shifts so that two could sleep while the other pair guarded their unwanted prisoners.

Ashley watched the dawn come up over the hot-potch of gables and uneven rooftops he could see through the window.
 
He might have thought the town pretty if he hadn’t been tired, irritable and anxious.
 
Les quatre fleurs
, as Cyrano had christened Will’s so-called protection squad, snored fitfully from the floor. William himself also slept … but the eye-patch had come adrift in the night and, though the good eye was closed, the unseeing one glared balefully at nothing.
 
Trying not to look and hoping Will would wake and deal with it, Ashley slit the bonds on his hands with a flick of his knife.

Behind him, Jem stretched and, peering past him, said, ‘Looks like a fine day.’

‘Does it?’
 
Ashley turned away, running his hands over his face.
 
Then, for the first time ever, said, ‘I don’t know whether to let the hirelings go or leave them and Will tied up here tonight.
 
Either one would be a case of hoping for the best.
 
And since nothing else has gone smoothly, I don’t trust our luck to change now.’

Unused, even obliquely, to having his opinion sought, Jem scratched his head and said, ‘I suppose we could drug ’em.
 
There’s an apothecary down the street.
 
Want me to pay him a visit?’

‘Yes.
 
Later, perhaps.
 
It’s as good an idea as any other but I suppose we owe Francis and Cyrano their say.’
 
He grinned wryly. ‘You know … I sometimes wonder why you stay with me.
 
This can’t be the life you hoped for.’

‘No – but at least it ain’t dull.’
 
Jem coloured slightly and scuffed the floor with his boot.
 
‘And, for all we’ve had our ups and downs, you’re the nearest thing I’ve had to family in a good many years.
 
Much though I hate to say it.’

Taken by surprise and rather touched, Ashley didn’t how to respond.

‘Then again,’ Jem went on grudgingly, ‘the King ain’t such a bad fellow. So if you want to gut these murdering buggers, I’m with you.’

Sir William woke up with a start and groped for his eye-patch.
 
Then, looking blearily around the room, he said, ‘How disappointing.
 
I’d hoped it was a nightmare.’

*
 
*
 
*

Jem fetched food and everyone broke their fast.
 
Between bites,
les quatre fleurs
tried to convince their captors that, if released, they’d leave town by the fastest route, saying nothing to anybody.
 
Cyrano grunted and scowled at them.
 
They promptly dropped their eyes and stopped bleating.

Leaving Jem on sentry-duty armed with a pistol, Ashley, Francis and Cyrano decamped to the other room, taking Sir William with them.

Ashley said, ‘Call this a Council of War. We have to make a decision and I want it to be one on which we’re all agreed.
 
Will … do those four next door have political or personal allegiance of any kind?’

‘No.
 
They’re unemployed mercenaries.
 
They are also, as you may have noticed, French.’
 
He fished in his pocket and threw a purse across the table.
 
‘Give them that and either get rid of them or engage them for tonight.
 
Your choice.’

Ashley looked across the room.
 
‘Cyrano?’

‘Get rid of them. They’re about as much use as a stale custard.’

‘Francis?’

Shrugging, Francis said, ‘I agree. We can hardly keep them here, after all.’

Ashley drew a long breath and then pushed the purse towards Cyrano.

‘Send them on their way, then.
 
Frighten them a bit first, though.
 
Or even a lot.’

‘I can do that,’ grinned the Frenchman.
 
And sauntered out.

Will flexed his shoulders and said, ‘And what about myself?’

‘Make your case,’ replied Ashley. ‘We’re listening.’

‘What more is there that hasn’t already been said?
 
I told you once that my parameters differed from your own.
 
That doesn’t mean my motives are any less pure – merely that, in certain respects, my methods are more flexible.
 
You
don’t mind getting your hands dirty when something unpleasant needs to be done.
 
I’ve
no objection to letting the opposition think I can be bought and paid for like a sixpenny whore.’
 
He paused. ‘My only mistake was not informing Hyde and, if you think about it, you’ll understand why I didn’t.
 
For the rest, weigh up everything you know about me and decide whether you want me at your side tonight or sitting here tied to a chair – because I’ve finished justifying myself.’

Finding Ashley’s eyes on him, Francis said, ‘It’s no use asking me.
 
Unlike yourself and Cyrano, I met Sir William for the first time yesterday.
 
He could be Attila the Hun, for all I know.’

Cyrano returned, followed by Jem.
 
Both of them were laughing.

‘They’re gone?’ asked Ashley.

‘Couldn’t get out quick enough,’ grinned Jem.
 
‘Tripping over their own feet, they was.’ And, as Cyrano tossed the purse back on the table, ‘Silly devils didn’t even want paying.’

‘Well, that’s one problem solved.
 
The next question is whether or not we accept Will’s offer of help this evening.
 
His presence would even up the odds … but what matters is whether we all trust him. Cyrano?’

‘I’ve less cause to doubt him than you – and he’s useful in a fight.’
 
He smiled at Sir William. ‘On the other hand, if I see the slightest sign of duplicity, I’ll stick a knife in your back.
 
D’accord
?’

‘
D’accord
,’ agreed Will.
 
‘Ashley?’

Ashley stood up and glanced round at his assembled troops.

‘I think Cyrano speaks for us all,’ he said.
 
‘And now … let’s tighten a few details and look for anything we might have missed. Then Jem can collect Will’s belongings from the
Coq D’Or
while the rest of us reconnoitre the ground.
 
From what I’ve seen so far, it’s maze of narrow alleys, running between tall houses and St Catherine’s Quay – so anyone could be hiding anywhere. But fortunately, that works both ways.’

*
 
*
 
*

By the time all of them were satisfied that they’d done everything they could and that nothing had been overlooked, darkness had fallen. They passed the final hours over a light supper, then Francis and Cyrano changed into their royal finery and Jem, having been forbidden his smart livery, took a long look at them both.
 

 
‘Damn me,’ he said, grinning at Francis.
 
‘Proper little dandy-trap, you look.’

‘Thank you.
 
I think.’
 
Francis tugged at the fair, luxuriantly-curling wig that he was fairly sure looked ridiculous. ‘This itches.
 
And it’s hot.
 
And my hat isn’t going to fit.’

‘Suits you, though,’ murmured Jem, wickedly. ‘Pity the ladies ain’t going to see you.’

‘Oh – sod off, Jem.
 
Go and torment Cyrano, why don’t you?’

Mr Barker opened his mouth but, before he could deliver any further witticisms, the door opened on Ashley and Sir William.
 
Both were booted, cloaked and armed. In addition, presumably in an attempt to render himself a little less easily identifiable, Will had removed his eye-patch.
 
Finding himself apparently impaled on that milky blind eye, Francis repressed a shudder.

‘Time for Jem, Will and myself to get into position,’ said Ashley, passing pistols and shot to both Francis and Cyrano.
 
They’d discussed the question of firearms earlier and, though concluding they weren’t likely to be of much use, decided they’d be no use at all if left behind at the inn.
 
His glance skimmed three of the faces in front of him but lingered briefly on Francis.
 
Then he said, ‘Everything strictly according to the plan, gentlemen – right up to the moment of engagement.
 
And then we guard each other’s backs.
 
Clear?’
 
All four nodded tersely.
 
‘Excellent.
 
Then good luck – and good hunting.’

It was a few minutes short of midnight and the streets were dark, most households having extinguished their lanterns. The moon was in its first quarter and largely obscured by clouds but, from time to time, a fitful light gleamed on the damp cobbles. Leaving the inn behind them, Ashley and his companions made their way to the end of the street and then silently went their separate ways.

The smell of fish became overpowering as Ashley neared the harbour.
 
Despite the hint of patchy mist, there was more light here, many of the boats floating cheek-by-jowl with each other still having lamps hanging from their masts.
 
Ashley slipped wraith-like along in the shadows until he reached the turning that would take him to
Les Deux Pigeons
.
 
Just as he approached the corner, light and voices spilled into the street, causing him to pull back into the nearest doorway.
 
He heard a pair of slurred voices raised in objection, followed by the inn-keeper’s caustic tones, telling them to go home and sleep it off.
 
Then darkness fell again as the door slammed shut and a bolt was rammed home. Ashley stayed where he was while the disappointed customers stumbled into view, apparently holding each other up, and reeled drunkenly away along the quayside.

Ashley took a moment to reflect on the fact that, since the tavern was now shut for the night, there was definitely
not
going to be any secret meeting in an upstairs room.
 
In truth, he’d never thought there would be … but it was helpful to have his suspicious verified.

The voices of the two inebriates faded into the distance.
 
Ashley decided that his current position was as good as any and remained perfectly motionless, listening to and identifying every sound.
 
Water sloshed, timbers creaked and the occasional voice drifted out from one of the vessels in the harbour.
 
So far, there was nothing at all untoward … but Ashley knew that somewhere not too far away, five assassins would soon be lying in wait.
 
If, that was, they weren’t there already.

Walking from the inn to the quayside, Francis and Cyrano’s route would bring them out at a carefully calculated point between himself and Will, with Jem keeping pace in between them.
 
Ashley prayed that nothing would happen before they got there and that he hadn’t made a mistake trusting One-Eyed Will.
 
Then he wondered how Francis’s nerves were holding up. Strolling along in the open, knowing you were a target was no easy thing.
 
Partly to give him something else to think about and partly because Cyrano’s small fund of English was overlaid by a strong French accent which would instantly give the game away, he’d told Francis to reinforce the illusion with the occasional fragment of conversation.
 
Francis had responded to this by remarking that he was delighted his strengths were finally being recognised – thus making everyone smile.
 
Ashley hoped they were all still smiling a few hours from now.

He stood motionless for what seemed an age until the bell-tower of St Catherine sent his nerves into spasm by announcing that it was one o’clock.
 
Ashley steadied his breathing and kept his eyes on the empty stretch of the quay.
 
Presently, from somewhere away to his right came the sound of booted feet on the cobbles and he froze, trying to determine how many.
 
Then came the drift of Francis’s lazy tones complaining of the all-pervading stink.
 
Ashley loosened his sword in its scabbard and pulled the knife from his boot.
 

Not long now.

Though still some distance away, Cyrano and Francis came into view.
 
Francis seemed to be saying something about a girl which, judging by his rumble of laughter, Cyrano had understood.
 

Christ
, thought Ashley grimly.
This is no time for bawdy jokes.
 
Concentrate, damn you.
 
Then, his eyes still raking the quay for any sign of the expected attackers,
Where the hell
are
they?