Shadow on the Highway (18 page)

I ran o
ut of the kitchen and into the stables, my breath coming too fast.

There were only three horses there now, Grice’s evil looking beast, Blaze and little Pepper in his stall. The servants’ horses must be at the front. I wavered
– I needed a horse I could trust. But Pepper would be too slow if they came after me.

I threw on Blaze’s bridle, hitched up my skirts, and clambered up some bales of straw to vault astride. I clapped my heels to Blaze’s sides and he bolted off. Only by clinging to his mane did I stick there.

Grice and his men ran out and hailed me as I passed the front door, but I could not have stopped even if I’d wanted to. A musketball’s breath hissed past my cheek but I clung to Blaze’s mane. The ground sped by under me with terrifying speed.

The sun had gone and the dusky path ahead of me into the woods was dark. Blaze did not stop. Branches whipped i
n my face, but I closed my eyes and relied on the grip of my knees. I couldn’t go back, and Grice might have sent one of his men after me, so I let the horse carry me through the woods until he suddenly swerved to the left and, unseated, I was suddenly in mid-air.

I hit the ground with a thud and sat up coughing, the wind knocked from my lungs. I stumbled to my feet, disorientated but already reaching out for the reins. Blaze was only a few steps away, standing looking forlornly at a fallen tree in our path.

Almost weeping with frustration I stood on the tree to clamber back on, and used my legs to encourage Blaze to jump it, but he refused each time. He was spooked, wild, tossing his head, as if he’d suddenly realised there was an unfamiliar person on his back.

I cursed, hissed
, ‘Go on!’ at him. All to no avail. Stupid horse. He’d do it for Lady Katherine. Why not for me?

Either side was a thicket of scrub and brambles. We’d just have to go through there. I kicked him on, but he would not go that way either.

I weighed up the options – turn back and go the long way round, or continue on foot. If I went back I might meet Grice’s men. But I didn’t want to leave Blaze here in the wood, nor did I want to be without a horse if trouble came my way.

I was wasting time. I wheeled Blaze around and galloped full pelt at the tree. Blaze must have caught my intention for he took off miles away from it and sailed over. I grasped handfuls of his mane to keep myself from falling. The landing jarred my teeth, but we were over.

I slowed to a trot and felt the path soft and squelchy under Blaze’s hooves. I looked over my shoulder. All was motionless behind me. No sign of Grice and his men. I hoped my mistress was still alive, that they hadn’t already –

But I
mustn’t think that way. I must get Ralph. He’d know what to do. Help me get my mistress out somehow. But the constable had been adamant he would not release Ralph without bail. It was about a half-mile to the bridge from here I guessed. The bridlepath went between two walls, then into more woodland.

Just a little further. A slight sway in the landscape beyond the wall made me pull away into the trees. There were soldiers moving in the far distance across the field. I could not tell whose soldiers, just dark shadows of men moving. But they had to be soldiers,
there were too many men for them to be anything else. I did not know if there had been any shots, but the men were moving stealthily so I guessed not. Cromwell’s men probably. Men with arquebusiers and muskets, I could see their jagged silhouettes. I shuddered. Lady Katherine would not know they were there, closing in.

I kept low over Blaze’s neck and wound into the densest part of the wood where there was no path. With a shock I realised I was not afraid, not for myself anyway, my intent was stronger than my fear.

There was a glint of water alongside me – the river, winding its way to the ford. I looked up, a big straw-coloured moon was just rising over the horizon.
Thank
you
,
thank
you
, I thought. Blaze picked his way alongside the water. I guided him where the earth was soft, would make less noise. Finally I saw the packhorse bridge ahead of me, and the ford by it for carriages, the water trickling less than knee-deep.

I paused in the shadow of the trees, watching, like a deer sniffing out danger. A half-formed plan scratched at the back of my mind. I pulled Blaze over into a thicket of trees and hitched him to a branch. I scrambled into the hedge, felt for the bundle Lady Katherine said she had left there. After a few frantic moments I found it, stripped out of my skirts and pulled on the breeches. The belt had holsters for the pistols and I cinched it in to my waist, notched the buckle tightly. It helped me feel more solid. The boots were far too big but they’d make me look more manly. I thrust my skirts into the hedge out of sight. If Lady Katherine could do this, then so could I. Her life depended on it.

I only had to hope that I looked convincing enough to persuade Lady Prescott to hand over the gold.

My fingers shook as I primed the pistols with powder and rammed down the ball by feel. I’d seen my father do it and knew what to do. I had never fired a pistol before in my life. My teeth chattered from cold, or from fright, I could not tell which. I rummaged in the leather bag and brought out the scarf to tie across my face. It smelt faintly of cinnamon and roses and the scent brought tears to my eyes and almost made me lose my courage.

I wondered briefly if I was mad. I could just gallop on. But where would I go? My mother was at the smith’s. Ralph was in gaol. And Lady Katherine was at this very minute awaiting a fate worse than I could imagine.

I jammed the hat down over my forehead. The moon lit up the path, but there was no sign of any carriage. I lifted one of the pistols from my belt, felt its solid weight in my right hand. The reins were damp and greasy in my other, and I felt the slight shake of Blaze’s head.

There was a moment where I realised what I had become, what I had to do. It seemed unreal, that I was here. I suddenly felt alone, insubstantial, like a shadow carved out of the air. I turned my head, scanning the trees and the road for movement. Nothing. It was as if the world held its breath.

21. Pistol and Shot

The coach and pair appeared from nowhere – a blur of hooves and wheels. It slowed to ford the water and I saw the gold of the monogram on the side as it rocked and trembled down the bank. But as it entered the water the wheels slewed to a stop, throwing up water and stones.

I kicked Blaze on, onto the bridge and round to stand in their path.

They
must
see
me
,
they
must
.

For a moment the elderly coachman gathered his reins and I thought he might drive his pair over me, but I raised the pistol and yelled in the deepest voice I could, ‘Stop! Stand down!’

He slid from his perch and scuttled into the water. I saw him take cover behind the coach.

I pulled Blaze round and cantered down the bank to approach the side window. The occupants of the coach were already half-out. Lady Prescott almost fell out into the water in her haste to get away. But a thick-set man in leather armour was giving her cover. He let loose a shot with his snub-nosed musket and I saw the flare of his tinder, the jerk as he recoiled. Smoke blasted out of the muzzle. Blaze shied as the shot hit a tree, but I clung on, held Blaze under control.

The acrid smell of powder and shot made me cough, but I held my nerve, kept the gun pointing at Lady Prescott.

‘Please,’ she cried, ‘have mercy!’

I could not pull the trigger. My moment’s hesitation was all she needed, she scrambled away under the bridge for cover, dragging her sodden skirts behind her.

The guard was re-loading. I knew there was not much time. I flung myself off Blaze and down to the ground and waded to the coach. The coachman had uncoupled one of the horses and, with surprising agility, he vaulted on and I watched his broad back gallop away down the path. Two more steps and I was at the coach door.

Another shot blasted a hole in the door right next to my hand, and the force of it made the open door swing. I kept the gun pointing back, as I felt desperately over the floor and seats with my other hand, but I could find nothing.

No box, no pouch, no gold.

I was confused, but then saw Lady Prescott peering at me from the bridge. Lady Prescott’s man, seeing my intent, sploshed through the shallows towards her, clumsily trying to re-load his gun as he went, but he was not quick enough – I got to Lady Prescott first.

I pressed my pistol to her temple. ‘Where’s the gold?’

‘There is no gold,’ she screamed.

‘Deliver me the gold,’ I repeated, unwilling to believe it.

‘It was a trick, a ruse,’ she shouted. I wanted to be sure I’d understood right.

I pressed the muzzle harder into her soft skin. ‘Tell me.’

About a man’s length away her guard stood still, his musket pointing to the sky, hands up. He was asking me not to fire.

‘Tell me,’ I repeated.

‘We suspect Grice is a spy,’ she whimpered, ‘so we set a trap to catch him. But you’ll get your come-uppance – the King’s Army should be here by now to catch him.’

I had an urge to pull the trigger, but stopped myself in time. What was I turning into? Anyway, it would serve no use. I floundered away, the disappointment threatening to overwhelm me. No gold. So it was all for nothing. Disaster.

I let out a ragged breath. The noise of fire would bring every soldier for miles around, I knew. According to Lady Prescott, Royalist troops were already on their way here, and Parliament troops to the Manor not two miles away. Soon I would be sitting in a bloody battlefield.

I had failed. I could not get Ralph out, and Lady Katherine would die.

My emotion made me careless, and as I moved away from Lady Prescott the manservant lunged towards me. His grip on my pistol arm bit through my sleeve. It brought me to my senses. Frustration made me blind with rage. I twisted and cursed, but he pinioned my pistol behind my back. I kicked out at his ankle and brought my other knee up hard against his groin. He almost let go, staggered on his feet.

A wild blur of black emerged from the trees. Another figure on horseback galloping along the bank. He shouted something from the bridge and waved a long rifle. I thought he might run us down, the horse forged through the shallows towards us.

It was all over. If it was one of the King’s Men, others would follow close behind.

The guard let go, put his hands up. I did the same. My thoughts raced. What would the King’s soldiers do to me when they found out I’d threatened Lady Prescott?

The man on the bank was familiar. The set of his shoulders, the tilt of his head. Surely it couldn’t be?

But I would recognise my brother anywhere.

‘Ralph!’ I yelled.

He glanced briefly over his shoulder, looking for the source of the voice. It was enough time for the man by my side to raise his musket to his shoulder. At the same time Ralph took aim. Undistracted by the noise of firing I had a clear view of how the recoil from the guard’s musket jerked it off target whereas Ralph’s aim was sharp and true. The guard staggered, fell backwards into the water. It parted to receive him then splashed back over him. He floundered only a moment, bubbles escaping from his mouth and nose, then was still. The moon had come out again from behind the clouds and I was transfixed by the body next to me, oozing ink-like blood into the water.

Lady Prescott cowered further under the bridge. Ralph kept one of his weapons pointed at me, as he gestured for her to come out onto the bridge. Then I realised. He still did not know who I was.

‘Fo
r mercy’s sake! Ralph!’ I cried. ‘It’s me, Abi! Don’t shoot!’

His hand wavered, dropped down. He dismounted in one fluid movement and was at my side in an instant, his pistol before him, his face full of suspicion. I tore away my scarf with my free hand.

His eyes widened. He grabbed hold of the scarf and tossed it into the river. ‘What do you think you’re doing? You stupid girl! You could get yourself killed! Of all the tomfool –’

‘She’s getting away!’ I pointed to Lady Prescott who had gathered up her skirts and was heading into the trees. ‘Stop, or I’ll fire,’ I yelled.

Lady Prescott’s eyes swivelled towards me as I went up the bank.

‘Don’t shoot,’ she begged, flinging up her hands.

‘Then stay still,’ I said. The pistol felt cold and weighty against my palm, and I pointed it at her in what I hoped was a threatening manner.

A glance to Ralph showed his amazed expression, but I didn’t dare move my gun from Lady Prescott.

‘Wait there,’ Ralph said.

‘No,’ I called, but he had already waded through the ford and was looking inside the coach. A few moments later and he was back at my side.

‘Are we too late?’ he asked, automatically signing with his free hand.

‘No. It’s empty,’ I said. ‘But there’s no time for that. Kate’s in danger, we must go back to the Manor, get past Grice somehow. He has sent Parliament men there. They’ll be there at first light and they’re after royalist blood. They’ll kill her if we can’t get her out.’

‘What about her?’ Ralph said, indicating Lady Prescott.

‘Just leave her,’ I said. ‘Her friends are on the way, let them look to her.’

I lowered my gun and Lady Prescott ran off into the woods in a blur of skirt and petticoat.

‘Listen,’ Ralph said.

I could hear nothing, but I felt a slight tremor through the soles of my boots.

‘Horses,’ I whispered. ‘It could be the King’s men, Lady Prescott’s expecting them.’

We pulled off the main track and into the trees.

The horsemen drew up, a little way off, and seeing the coach with only one horse in the traces and its door hanging open, began to arm themselves. I froze – even from here I could see it was Grice and his servi
ng men. I crept away from Blaze and hid myself behind a thicket of hawthorn.

Ralph had pulled his horse back into the shadows. Grice and Rigg rode ahead first. They passed close to me on the track, pistols at the ready. The third man, Pitman, followed behind on a hired mare, his eyes scanning left and right.

To my horror, Blaze lowered his head and moved forward onto the path. Stupid horse. Now they’d know we were here.

Pitman shouted something to the other men and they halted. There was a discussion which I could not hear, but they dismounted and Grice continued limping towards the ford and the coach, whilst his two servants moved pincer-like into the woods. I crouched lower. They were looking for me.

I saw a flash as Pitman spotted Ralph behind the tree and let loose a shot. But my brother was quicker – a blast of air and a musket ball from my brother toppled Pitman. Riggs dived for cover. Grice splashed into the stream and crouched down behind the coach. From there he took aim at Ralph, who was masked by a big oak.

Riggs hadn’t seen me and began to work his way through the thicket to creep up on Ralph. Grice tried another shot but it glanced off the tree. I saw Ralph’s white stock disappear as he whipped behind the trunk into cover.

Riggs was closer to Ralph now, with a prowling intent look. He stopped, closed one eye, raised his pistol before him with both hands, and slowly took aim at Ralph’s head.

A red mist seemed to blur my eyes. Wildly, I lifted my pistol pointed it at Rigg and fired. The recoil took it off target, but my other pistol was ready. I fired again. This time Rigg fell. But I kept pressing the triggers even though the fire was dead and my palms smarted from the kick of the gun.

Rigg did not get up. I was taken by surprise that it was so quick. I’d shot a man.

Grice blundered out from behind the coach, head down, grabbing for branches to support himself as he had no stick. He was making for his horse. Ralph sprinted after him and tussled him to the ground. He pressed his musket to Grice’s chest.

Grice whimpered and writhed.

Ralph turned to me
. ‘Your belt,’ he said.

‘This?’ I pulled it from round my waist. He took off his own.

‘Get up,’ he said to Grice.

‘I can’t,’ he whined
. ‘My leg.’

‘Then crawl.’

Without his servants’ muscle-power Grice had become lily-livered. We secured him to the coach wheel. I tied his arms to the spokes, while Ralph kept the gun to his chest. I tore off his wooden foot and threw the disgusting thing as far as I could downstream where it floated away. Grice lay half-propped up, only his head and chest out of the water. ‘I beg you, don’t leave me here,’ he said.

‘The key,’ I said, ‘to the dressing room.’

‘In my pouch,’ he said.

I unclipped his pouch and shook out the coins
until I found the key. ‘Come on.’ I dragged on Ralph’s sleeve. For I remembered the men I had seen in the fields, moving south.

Ralph withdrew the gun from Grice’s chest. ‘If Lady Katherine has come to any harm, I’ll come back and shoot you.’