Page 98 of Exile's Return
‘I assure you,’ Kit’s voice had taken on a breathy edge, ‘Mistress Truscott only ministered to me under coercion. She is innocent of any wrongdoing —’ he broke off as the woman whimpered. ‘Leave her!’
‘You’re in no position to bargain, Lovell,’ Ashby said. ‘Search every building.’
Daniel held his breath at the sound of scraping furniture and heavy boots above them. The chest was moved aside and Daniel held his breath, expecting any moment that the flagstone would be hauled back, but Turner’s men were less than thorough and must have missed the recessed ring in the gloom of the cottage.
‘Nothing.’ The voice of Septimus Turner.
Ashby grunted. ‘Where is my gold, Lovell?’
‘Gold?’
Ashby swore. ‘So it’s going to be like that. Turner, tie these two to a stirrup. A stroll into town may make them more inclined to be cooperative.’
Peg whimpered. ‘Please, sir. I’ve done naught and I know nothing.’
‘You can do what you like to me,’ Kit’s voice rose, ‘but not an old woman. If you drag her along behind a horse, you’ll kill her.’
The old dog, galvanized by what must have been the obvious threat to its mistress, began to bark.
Ashby swore. ‘Get that dog off me.’
‘Don’t ‘urt her. She’s old and blind,’ Peg pleaded, but the old dog continued to snarl and bark, her fierce defence of her mistress ending in a sharp whine and then silence.
‘You are an unspeakable bastard, Ashby,’ Kit said.
‘Enough from you, Lovell,’ Ashby’s words were followed by the sound of a fist on bone and a body hitting the floor. Daniel half rose, his fists balled impotently.
‘Tie him up,’ Ashby said. ‘As for you, old woman, I always suspected you of witchcraft, woman. Now your familiar is dead and I’ve evidence enough in that cupboard to convince me that I am indeed dealing with a witch. Get her out of here.’
‘Please, sir-’ Peg’s plea was cut short and she gave a sharp cry.
Ashby laughed and Daniel’s blood ran cold. He had heard that laugh before, on a clear autumn day in 1648. He lowered his head again, trying to shut out the memory of his father standing on the steps of Eveleigh.
“You have my surrender, Ashby,” Thomas Lovell had said. “Let my garrison pass unmolested.”
Ashby had laughed, that same braying laugh.“Why would I do that, Lovell? An example must be set. Secure those men and bring them forward. I want them to see what happens to traitors. Turner, your four best marksmen. Tie this man to that column.”
And so they had dragged Thomas Lovell to the slender column that held up the entrance porch to Eveleigh Priory and tied him to it. The four marksmen had arrayed themselves and on Ashby’s command the volley had rung out. For a long, long moment there had been absolute silence. Kit had broken away from the men who held him. It had been Kit who cut down his father’s bleeding body, cradling him in his arms as he breathed his last.
‘They’ve gone.’ Thornton touched Daniel’s arm, bringing him back to the present.
Daniel raised his head. Only the faintest light around the edges marked the flagstone that secured them in the cellar.
‘We have a problem, Thornton,’ he said. ‘Ashby’s taken the woman too. There is no one to move the chest.’
Even as he said the words, the blood pounded in his ears and his breath stopped in his throat.
Thornton grabbed the back of his neck, forcing his head down between his knees. ‘Breathe,’ he commanded. ‘I need you with all your wits.’
The demons tore at Daniel’s chest, sending the world in giddying spirals, and through it all, a voice, calm and controlled, said, ‘Breathe…in…out…That’s it. The quicker you fight this, the quicker we are out of here.’
Daniel took a shuddering breath and shook off Jonathan’s hand. ‘We’re going to have to work the flag away,’ he said. ‘That chest is solid but it should move with enough force.’
A long pause before his companion said, ‘Is this the moment to tell you that I have a bad shoulder?’
Chapter 42
Turner came for Agnes in the early afternoon. Ignoring her questions, he took her by the arm, propelling her through the house toward the Great Hall.
