Page 97 of Exile's Return
Jonathan all but fell into the cellar in his haste as above them the flag fell back into place and the legs of the chest scraped on the floor.
‘Kit?’ Daniel whispered.
‘Too late,’ Thornton replied.
The dark closed in around Daniel and he buried his head in his arms like a small child, trying to shut out the memories of Outhwaite and the dark, dark days he had spent in the Pit.
Jonathan hunched down beside Daniel, the warmth of his body and the touch of his shoulder reassuring in the darkness.
“Ye’ve faced yer demons, boy,” the old woman had said. “And ye beat ‘em down, but they’ll keep trying. All your life they’ll come a-knocking at the door.”
“You can tell me my future?”
“Aye, but not now, not today. There are still words to be written on that page.”
How many words? Were they to be written in ink today?
The door crashed open. Scuffling footsteps and a woman’s scream indicated that Mistress Truscott had been detained.
‘Where are they?’ Ashby’s voice filtered down to them, muffled by the flagstone.
‘You’re hurting me.’ Mistress Truscott sounded close to tears.
Daniel tensed, his fingers clenching and unclenching.
Then they heard Kit’s voice, clear and untroubled. ‘Unhand the woman, Ashby.’
A pause and Ashby said, ‘I know you.’
‘Eveleigh Priory, 1648.’
Daniel held his breath as Ashby replied. ‘Lovell?’
‘Christopher Lovell, the same. It was my father, Thomas, you murdered in cold blood.’
‘Murdered? It was war, Lovell,’ Ashby sounded almost nonchalant.
A long pause followed.
‘Ah, yes, war excuses every little misdeed, does it not,’ Kit replied. ‘So is this still war?’
‘Put down that weapon, Lovell,’ Turner’s voice now.
Kit swore in French. ‘Very well. I can see when I am outnumbered. Forgive me if I sit, Ashby. Some fool discharged a weapon in my direction last night, but I suspect you know that.’‘
‘Where are your companions?’ Ashby’s voice rose in crescendo.
‘They’ve gone. Abandoned me to your tender mercies.’
‘Gone. How?’ Turner’s voice now. ‘Two men, one horse, by my reckoning. We’ll catch them soon enough. In the meantime, secure this man and search this cottage.’
Daniel winced as his brother cried out in pain, no doubt as his injured arm was twisted behind his back.
‘Her too,’ Ashby said.
‘Let the woman go, Ashby,’ Kit said. ‘She’s innocent.’
‘Innocent? She is guilty of harbouring villains.’
