Thinking a moment, he then gave the dragoon
specific instructions of whom he should fetch…including his own man
Sergeant Powers.
Captain Wallis was far more influential with
these soldiers than he’d been able to achieve himself. And if the
treacherous dragoon officer had decided to garner a few laurels for
himself, then Musgrave doubted he would be able to get all of
Wallis’s men to fight against him.
But there were always a select few who
stayed loyal to a cause.
Yes, this select few would be all that
Musgrave needed to snuff out this untimely show of
independence.
The light from the torches on the ruined
walls of the castle could be seen easily from the distance. As
Musgrave and his men drew near, two dragoons appeared, riding
toward them. The magistrate didn’t order his own troop to stop
until the oncoming riders had reached them.
“Where is Captain Wallis? What is the
meaning of this?”
“He is waiting for you at Cuchulainn’s Seat,
sir,” one of the men replied. “The exchange has been made.”
Musgrave stifled his angry outburst. “He has
the rebels?”
“Aye, sir,” the second soldier
responded.
Cursing openly, the magistrate spurred his
horse ahead of the others. Halfway up the hill, another half dozen
dragoons were guarding a number of horses. He paused by the group
momentarily. Jane’s high-spirited mare pranced among the rest.
“Whose horse was that?” he asked
brusquely.
“The rebel Egan’s. She is in shackles up
there with the other three.”
His temper somewhat controlled, Musgrave
ordered his own men to take positions along the road up the hill
with the rest of the dragoons. Now that he had them, there would be
no taking them away. This might be a salvageable situation, after
all.
Captain Wallis saluted smartly but was
obviously avoiding looking at him directly as the magistrate
remained atop his horse.
“There was no waiting, Sir Robert. The
blackguards sent the message that they did not trust us to release
their women and children in Buttevant. They wanted to make the
exchange here. That was easily accomplished. We sent their women
and children down that hill, one by one, as the leaders came up the
same road.” Wallis motioned for a soldier to take the bridle of the
magistrate’s horse as he finally dismounted. “This is the kind of
action you have been encouraging for some time, sir. I know how
much the arrest of these people means to you. I did not want to
lose the…”
“Take me to them.” Musgrave snapped at the
man.
Of course, the Irish bastards were right. He
had no plans of freeing those families. How much more dramatic the
final execution would be with the wives and children watching and
weeping. How much fiercer his reputation would be when he then
marched the families directly to the docks and onto a ship bound
for Australia!
He fell in step with Wallis. Of course, one
of the disgraced families would remain. What a stir that would make
in the Lord Lieutenant’s office! They could do nothing to him, the
hero who had ferreted out the very daughter of the great Sir Thomas
Purefoy.
“There they are, sir.” The captain gestured
toward what must have been at one time the keep’s great hall. A
gaping hole showed that the floor was only slightly above the
castle courtyard.
Looking through the crumbled stone walls, he
could see the four people crouched down with their hands behind
their backs tied to each other in a circle. Musgrave pushed Wallis
aside and climbed the half dozen steps to the entryway.
They all were wearing black. No white shirts
for them today, he noted. A woolen hood had been pulled over each
prisoner’s head. Musgrave roughly yanked out the hood off the
first. The man’s head jerked back, and Sir Robert studied the
rebel’s calm impression. He showed no fear, in spite the noose that
was awaiting him.
“This one calls himself Patrick.” Wallis
quickly offered from the doorway.
Musgrave kicked the second man before
pulling the hood off his head. This one’s face showed his hatred,
and he growled something in Gaelic.
“Liam.” The captain said.
Musgrave gave the rebel another solid kick
and moved on. He was about to pull the hood off the next one when
something occurred to him. Of the two that were left, one had to be
Egan. Wallis had met and seen Jane Purefoy on a number of occasions
over the past few years. Why, he wondered, hadn’t the captain
mentioned the taking of the former magistrate’s daughter?
From the long legs and size of the boots,
Musgrave could tell the next rebel was a man. He stepped past him
and stood over the last hooded figure.
From beneath the shapeless woolen sack, he
could see tendrils of dark hair showing.
“Am I correct to assume this one is
Egan?”
“She is, sir. You cannot imagine our
surprise in finding that we knew her.”
His elation returned, and he yanked the bag
off her head. As the woman’s dark eyes snapped up to his, Musgrave
stared for only an instant before drawing the dagger from his
boot.
“There shall be no hanging for this
one.”
Stepping beside her, he quickly put the
knife to her throat.
***
“Drop it now…or you shall die.” With the
point of the knife pressed against the woman’s throat, Musgrave
looked up in surprise at the pistol pointed at him. Rage boiled up
inside him when he met Sir Thomas’s cold gaze.
“What do you care if she dies?”
“If one drop of her blood is drawn, you are
a dead man.”
“Very clever of you to hide your daughter
and switch this one in her place.” Musgrave’s hand didn’t waver.
“But regardless of whatever you think you are doing, as magistrate
I can do as I please…”
“You were formally relieved of the duties
and authority of magistrate nearly a week ago.”
“That’s a lie.” Musgrave cast a quick look
at the number of dragoons who had gathered behind Wallis. “Arrest
this man. He is interfering with…”
“Both Captain Wallis and I received copies
of the same letter sent to you by the Lord Lieutenant. We had our
own additional orders attached to it.”
“This is a trick.” He looked angrily at the
watching soldiers. “You just want to execute these four yourself!
You then can keep your slut of a daughter and still add to your
glory!”
“As I tried to make you understand
yesterday, with the Whiteboys here offering to disband, our best
course is to let them. Our own landowners and tradesmen in Cork
City itself are tired of the injustices Parliament is afflicting us
all with. Our own people are crying out for change.”
“You mean your daughter.”
Sir Thomas ignored the comment and spoke
clearly and methodically. “Killing these people will only stir the
cauldron of violence. Hang them and it could be another dozen years
before we have a chance of bringing any real peace to this region.
Now drop that knife.”
Musgrave’s attention shifted to the man
entering the hall from a side chamber with one of Wallis’s dragoons
behind him. Spencer.
“You…!”
The former magistrate saw the look in
Musgrave’s face change. As the man yanked back the woman’s head to
make the lethal cut, Sir Thomas fired his pistol. Musgrave’s body
jerked with the bullet’s impact, and as his dagger fell harmlessly
in the woman’s lap, he dropped like a stone to the ground.
Pandemonium immediately erupted in the
castle and down the hill. Shouts and orders rang out from Captain
Wallis.
Nicholas tucked his own pistol back into his
belt, hardly glancing at Musgrave as he stepped over the dead body.
Sir Thomas was checking the neck of the woman as Nicholas pulled
the hood off the last rebel’s head. Paul’s grinning face was the
one that looked up at him.
“That bullet came a wee bit close, I’m
thinking?” he said with a chuckle.
“Closer than you know,” Nicholas replied
with a nod toward Sir Thomas. Quickly, he freed the man’s hands and
cut the ropes holding the others.
Acting on Sir Thomas’s and Captain Wallis’s
orders, the stable master had arranged for himself and the other
three servants to substitute themselves for the rebels. The Lord
Lieutenant’s directions were clear. The two were to assess
Musgrave’s response to being relieved before acting to forcibly
remove him. No one knew, though, how far he would go.
“You need to catch up to them,” Sir Thomas
ordered Nicholas. “Before they walk through those barrack gates in
Buttevant.”
“Are you coming along? You were the one who
made this work. I think they should know it.”
He shook his head. “Until the Lord
Lieutenant sends another magistrate I must act for the Crown.” He
lowered his voice. “The devil take me, I have no wish to be in a
position of identifying any of these rebels if this madman’s
replacement should ask me.”
As Nicholas turned to leave, Sir Thomas
stopped him.
“But…” His warrior’s face was softened
slightly. “But tell her I’m trying.”
***
There were still two hours left till dawn
when the four rebels approached the last hill. Beyond it, they
knew, laid the river Awbeg and the village of Buttevant.
The moon, still high in the sky, illuminated
the solitary rider waiting for them on the crest of the hill. Jane
immediately recognized him. She would know him anywhere.
“I did not tell him,” she said quickly,
seeing Henry’s sharp look. “I told no one.”
Not waiting for a response from the others,
though, she spurred her horse toward Nicholas. He too, having
recognized them, rode in her direction. She couldn’t be angry with
him for being here. But seeing him this last time only added to the
piercing pain of losing him.
The tears were already dancing on her face
when she reached him. “What are you doing here?”
“Tell them to go back,” he urged, nodding
toward the three men who had reined in their horses. “There is no
longer any need for an exchange.”
“Nicholas, we
must
go or innocent
people will die.”
“Their families were freed tonight. But
these men must turn back before one of Musgrave’s men sees them and
decides to finish something that his leader could not.”
“I do not understand.”
“Then come with me so I can explain it to
them, as well.”
Feeling somewhat stunned, Jane watched
Nicholas nudge his horse toward the other riders. Pausing for a
second to make sure she was indeed awake and that this wasn’t a
dream, she started after him.
None of them had bothered with masks
tonight, and Nicholas simply stared for a moment when he came face
to face with Henry Adams.
Jane addressed Liam and Patrick. “Sir
Nicholas says that your wives and children have been freed.”
Nicholas went on to explain that Musgrave
had been killed tonight and the new, temporary magistrate strongly
believes that he should reciprocate the offer of peace by the
Shanavests.
Patrick and Liam looked at each other in
disbelief.
“But as I was telling Jane, for the next few
hours and until the change of command is completed, we do not want
you anywhere near Buttevant.”
Clearly neither Patrick nor Liam seemed to
be able to fathom what they were hearing, and they looked at Henry
in confusion.
“Sir Nicholas is not one to lie,” the parson
assured them quietly and confidently.
The burst of excitement from the two men was
instantaneous. Patrick leaned over his horse and took Jane in an
affectionate hug.
“Well, Egan…er, Miss Jane. Why not bring
this one around, sometime? Some o’ these English can grow on
ye.”
“I thought you were disbanding.” Nicholas
asked, apprehension creasing his brow.
“Patrick is talking about raising a cup or
two, if I’m not mistaken,” Liam said.
“Aye. Come around anytime. My wife brews the
best ale from here to Limerick.”
“I am not doing anything right now.”
“Oh, yes you are.” Jane put a hand out and
took hold of the bridle of Nicholas’s horse… eliciting teasing
comments and catcalls from the two men.
With a few parting words, Patrick and Liam
rode off in the same direction they had all come. Henry, though,
stayed and faced Nicholas’s open amusement.
“Then you must be…”
“Finn,” Henry said quietly.
“But why?” Nicholas questioned, his face
growing serious. “What did Sir Thomas say? ‘What would a
respectable English churchman be doing fighting for a handful of
discontented papist peasants?’”
“The answer is not so easy. I may have begun
fighting for them because I witnessed great injustice…or because I
believe compassion belongs to no single religion.” Henry gave a
short laugh. “Or maybe because, as the second son of an English
naval hero, I have too much fight in my blood.”
“I didn’t even know that Henry was Finn
until two nights ago,” Jane admitted.
“Even though Liam and Jenny have know it for
some time, I would have continued to keep that little secret if
circumstances had allowed it.”
With their horses standing side by side,
Nicholas and Jane had at some point clasped hands. Henry’s gaze now
fell on their entwined fingers. “Mrs. Brown tells me there are
marriage plans in the works.”
Jane turned and smiled at Nicholas. “Now
there are.”
“Would you do us the honor of wedding us in
your chapel?” Nicholas asked Henry.
“The honor will be mine,” the parson replied
pleasantly. “Of course, that is if I fail to convince Clara that
she should marry me on the same day.” He rubbed his chin
thoughtfully and met Nicholas’s astonished gaze. “You see, I am
nothing more than a poor parish minister and it only makes sense
for you to pay for the two sisters’ wedding feast.”