'What the devil are you doing?'
'That is my question to you, sir!' she retorted.
'Go back to the library, madam. You will be safe there.'
Katherine's eyes blazed.
'Then it is true. You are declaring for the Pretender.'
'You should be pleased, madam, it is your heritage.'
'My father would be ashamed to act in this manner.'
'Perhaps that is why he and his kind did not succeed in the '15.' He turned to the armed man nearest him. 'Take everyone from the ballroom to the barn and lock them in with the servants. As for you, madam.' He grasped Katherine's arm marched her back down the stairs towards the library. As they reached the passage a thunderous roar shook the house.
'What the – '
A shout came from the doorway. 'My lord, the tower!'
Warenford ran outside and Katherine followed him. Beyond the garden wall there was a confused mass of smoke and flame around the north tower. Davis rushed up.
'It's well alight, my lord. The powder kegs have blown, all's ruined!'
'Damnation! Who did this?'
Two men pulled a dishevelled figure forward. His wrists were bound and his hair hung tangled about his smoke-blackened face, but Katherine caught her breath and fear gripped her as she recognised Matthew Deane, John's friend and servant. Warenford walked up to him.
'Who sent you?'
Matthew said nothing, and the earl raised his arm and hit him once, hard, across the face. Katherine winced, but forced herself to keep still.
'Tell me, man. Who are you working for?'
Matthew licked the blood from his lip, which was already swelling, but remained silent. Another explosion rocked the Keep and Warenford swore.
'Davis, put him in the lock-up for now and get the men to put out that fire.' He caught sight of Henry coming out of the house. 'Ellingham, go and see what you can do. And make sure the horses are moved from the stable. If we have no arms for the Prince the least we can do is supply some fine horseflesh!'
Henry ran off towards the tower. Davis barked orders and two men dragged Matthew away. Katherine touched Warenford's arm.
'My lord, you need not escort me back to the library. You are needed here, with your men.'
He hesitated, trying to read her face in the red glow from the burning tower.
'Go,' she urged him, giving him a little push. 'I am not a fool. I know it will be safer for me in the library.'
The earl nodded and hurried away. Katherine went back to the house, but she did not return to the library. Instead she made her way to the servants' quarters. Her gold lustring was far too eye-catching for her to move around unnoticed so she needed something to conceal it. Thankfully the passages were empty and she guessed that everyone had gone outside to see what was amiss. The housekeeper's room was locked, but in one of the small servant's rooms she found a voluminous red cloak hanging on the back of the door. Quickly she wrapped it about her. It was shorter than her skirts but it would have to do.
She made her way to the kitchen, which showed signs of being abandoned in a hurry. She hurried across to the stout door on the far side, but as she passed the table she spotted a large knife. Impulsively she grabbed it, tucking it through the opening in her skirts into the pocket beneath. Outside she found herself in the small kitchen garden. It was empty and still, but beyond its walls she could see the flames and smoke leaping up into the night sky, and a cacophony of shouts filled the air. Pulling the cloak about her, Katherine slipped out of the small door in the wall.
She was in the outer ward, where many of the coaches had been hastily moved onto the pasture to make more room in front of the stables. The carriages had been left in haphazard fashion on the grass. Here it was comparatively quiet, for all the activity was centred on the bailey, the inner courtyard which was separated from this large grassy pasture by a collection of buildings.
The nearest of these, and at a distance from the rest of the wooden buildings, was the large barn the earl had set aside to accommodate the servants. The barn door was closed and she guessed that those guests loyal to the crown were now incarcerated there, too. Only cracks of light escaped from the shutters and she could hear their muted cries from within, but armed men stood at the doors and Katherine knew that without help it would be futile to attempt to free the prisoners.
Keeping to the shadows, she set off between the buildings towards the inner ward and the north tower. She found herself praying that John was alive, the words repeating themselves in her head over and over again. At one point she had to flatten herself against a wall as the horses freed from the stables were driven to the pasture for safety.
As she emerged from between the buildings she stopped and gazed in horror at the scene. A strong wind had carried burning material from the original fire to the stable block. Smoke and flames were already rising steadily from the roof and the air was thick with the stench of horse manure and burning straw. Beyond the stables, the sky glowed an angry red as smoke and flames erupted from the north tower. Men were running backwards and forwards with buckets of water for the tower and the stables, but the heat was too fierce and the water sizzled and steamed even before it hit the burning buildings. She caught sight of Henry. He had shed his coat and was directing the men fighting the fire in the stables, and she thought she had never seen him behave so well.
Someone touched her arm and she screamed.
'Kate!'
At the sound of John's voice her knees almost buckled with relief. He steadied her.
'Kate, love. What are you doing here?'
'John.' She clung to him, fighting down her panic. 'Warenford has imprisoned the g-guests in the house. He thinks I am in the library with the other women - they are being sent to France tonight.' She looked up. 'Matthew. He has been taken, he's in the lock-up.'
'Then let us get him out.'
His calm tone steadied her. He took her hand and they walked across the yard, ignored by the men running back and forth trying to put out the flames. Katherine kept her cloak pulled close about her. A few inches of her gold skirts were still visible, but they were muddied now and no longer drew the eye. With John beside her in his dark cloth coat she hoped they looked like nothing more than servants, or at most, a country dame and her husband.
As they approached the lock-up they came in view of the gatehouse and Katherine stopped, gripping John's arm. With fires raging in the north tower and the wooden buildings, this section of the yard was deserted, except for the burly figure of Davis. He was pulling a sack across the ground. But Katherine realised in horror that it was not a sack. It was the maid Lily, sobbing wildly as Davis dragged her by her hair away from the lock-up.
'Try to let him out would you, you filthy bitch?' He aimed a kick at her and Lily screamed as his boot thudded into her belly, lifting her bodily off the ground. 'Are you his whore then? Stinking – '
He got no further. John leapt forward, drawing his sword as he went and slicing it across the man's fingers. He was too far away to do much damage, but the tip of the sword cut across the knuckles, and Davis let out a roar of rage and pain. He dropped Lily's hair and turned to see who had attacked him. John sprang back, his sword circling menacingly before him.
'You're mighty brave when fighting a wench, Davis. Let's see how you fare against a man.'
With a snarl Davis drew his sword and lunged.
Katherine pulled Lily to her feet and helped her to the wall, where she leaned against the stone, shivering, but Kate had turned her attention to the lock-up. The key was still in the lock. It took her only moments to open the door and help Matthew out. His hands were still bound and Kate drew out her knife and cut him loose.
'Thank you, Mistress – ' he broke off, dragging Kate aside as Davis fell back, but he was not quick enough. The steward cannoned into Kate, sending her sprawling to the ground, the knife spinning from her hand.
Matthew helped her to her feet, anxiously asking if she was all right, but Katherine
had no time for her bruises. She was watching as John thrust and parried against the steward's sword. The two men moved lightly over the cobbles, their breath smoking in the icy air. Katherine clung to Matthew's arm, afraid to take her eyes off the duel in case in that instant she should miss the vital blow. Matthew, too, was engrossed in the fight, and no-one noticed Lily hobble out from the wall and stoop to pick up the long-bladed kitchen knife.
John flicked the sweat from his eyes. His hair hung wild about his face but he gave no thought to it as his sword twisted again and again to block Davis's increasingly wild, thrusting blows. The man came in again, John turned the blade aside and pushed his opponent away. Davis stepped back, panting heavily and for the first time John noticed a figure running from the shadows. John shouted a warning, but it was too late. Lily sprang, the knife in front of her so that her whole weight pushed it deep between the steward's ribs. With a roar, Davis whipped round, his sword arm extended so that as Lily jumped away, the blade sliced across her neck. Without a sound the maid slid to the cobbles, her blood trickling away between the stones. Davis looked down at her, swaying. Then his knees buckled and he fell to the ground.
With a cry, Katherine ran across to Lily and knelt over the girl's lifeless body. She heard Matthew asking John if Davis was dead but their voices were distant, unimportant compared to the horror before her. Matthew helped her to her feet, steadying her as she stared at her hands, which were red with blood. John approached, wiping his sword on his coat before putting it away. Then drew his handkerchief and began to clean her hands.
She began to cry then, and John took her into his arms, while hard sobs shook her body. She drew strength from him, and comfort, but after a moment she pushed herself away and began to dry her eyes, fighting to control her grief. She knew she must be strong, for they were not yet safe.
Matthew had picked up Davis's sword and fitted it into his belt.
'What next, John?' he asked.
'With any luck the fire has been spotted and Thropton's men will be on their way. We should open the gates for them.'
He looked at Katherine and she nodded, keeping her eyes averted from the bodies on the floor.
'Thank you,' she said in a low voice. 'I shall do, now. Let us open the gates.'
He nodded, admiration glowing in his eyes giving her strength.
John led the way towards the main entrance. Despite the conflagration in the rest of the Keep, the gate set deep beneath its stone arch was nothing but a black void. As they ran up three figures stepped out of the shadows. It was the earl, his velvet coat now replaced by a serviceable leather riding jacket, and behind him two of his closest allies, Sir George Bedleston and Frederick Kendle, both renowned swordsmen.
John stopped, putting out a hand to keep Katherine behind him.
'Well, well. John Steel.' The earl's lip curled in a sneer. 'I should have known you would be involved in this.'
John settled his sword more firmly in his hand.
'Perhaps you should have invited me to your party,' he drawled.
Warenford ignored him.
'And Katherine. So much for wifely obedience.'
John's hand tightened on his sword, but Kate's reply rang out clear and steady.
'I am not your wife. The wedding was a sham.'
'Ah, I wondered about that Greek service.' The earl shrugged. 'No matter. It served its purpose, although I regret not making more of our union, my dear.'
'And now it is over,' snapped John. 'Captain Thropton and his men are at the gate. Your plan is foiled, Warenford.'
'And you are going to let them in? I think not.' The earl drew his sword. 'Bedleston, Kendle, we'll take these two!'
Matthew snatched the sword from his belt and stepped up beside John. The space between the two towers was not much wider than a carriage. If they could keep Warenford and his cronies confined there they would have no real advantage.
As one he and Matty leapt forward, trapping their opponents in the narrow confines of the entrance. The earl's sword flashed, but at the same time Kendle threw himself at John and succeeded in doing nothing more than getting in Warenford's way. The earl roared a warning but it was too late, they crashed into one another. The earl jumped away but Kendle stumbled onto John's deadly blade before falling back against the wall and sliding to the ground.
'A lucky blow,' cried the earl, stepping past Kendle's lifeless body. 'Now it is time to face the Reaper.'
John's eyes narrowed and his lips stretched into a mirthless smile. 'I am ready for you, Warenford.'
The walls about them echoed with the clash of steel. As one man, John and Matty fell back, drawing their opponents away from the gate. A swift glance showed John that Katherine was standing to one side, watching them with wide, anxious eyes. He shouted to her.
'Kate. If we hold them off can you open the gate?'
'I will try.'
His heart soared as he heard her brave answer, but there was no time to see how she fared. The earl threw himself into the attack, his blade moving so swiftly it was little more than a blur in the dim light. John parried another lightning thrust, the swords sliding together to the hilt. The earl pressed close, raising his voice to address Katherine.
'If you open the gates you will be killing your brother.'
John tried to shake him off but the earl clung on, taking advantage of the momentary deadlock to call out again. 'Did you know he had been in correspondence with the rebels? Oh yes, and all the letters are in my keeping. If you let Thropton in, the letters will be found. Henry will be executed as a traitor.'
Katherine was at the big wooden gates and she had already pulled back the bolts, but as the earl's words rang out, echoing between the towers, she stopped and looked back. John had thrown off the earl and they were fighting again, while Matthew was still battling with Sir George Bedlington. But a movement caught her eye. Figures were running towards the gate. Three more men, their swords drawn.
She wanted to cry a warning to John but it was unnecessary. He called something to Matthew then hurled himself at the earl with a series of furious blows. With the earl and Bedlington momentarily winded Matthew and John stepped back, placing themselves between the gate and their opponents.
'Five against two?' gasped the earl, breathing heavily but beckoning his men forward. 'Surrender now, Steel.
John ignored him.
'Open the gate, Katherine.' he shouted urgently. 'Now!'
Taking a deep breath, she put her hands beneath the heavy wooden bar and heaved it from its brackets. She jumped back as it clattered to the ground and it took all her strength to move it out of the way. Behind her she could hear nothing but the hiss and clang of steel, the grunts of men striving to overpower their opponents. How long could John and his friend hold out against such odds? Desperately, she hauled on one of the huge wooden gates.
John heard the creak of hinges as the door swung open. He kept his blade moving, parrying blow after blow. He and Matthew had backed against the wall and could see now the southern approach bathed in blue moonlight. Coming up the slope towards the Keep was a column of solders, muskets shouldered, swords clanking at their sides.
Beside him he heard Matthew give a breathless laugh.
'The militia, thank God!'
As one, Warenford and his men pulled back.
'Murderess!' he cried, retreating out of reach of John's blade. 'Murderess and a traitor to the name of Ellingham!'
His men had closed about him, and as they turned and ran John put his hand on Matthew's arm.
'No, Matty, let them go. We have to explain the situation to Thropton.'
Katherine was still standing by the open gate and while Matthew moved aside the beam and pushed back the second gate, John took her hand.
'Thank you,' he said simply
'Henry,' She murmured.
The sadness in her face wrenched his heart. If only he could help her.
'There is a way,' he said suddenly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TW
O
John turned to Katherine, taking her arms and giving her a little shake. 'There is a way. Remember the ship that was to take the women to France? If it is at the postern gate, we can get Henry out of the country.'
Hope replaced the bleak look.
'Do you think so? Truly?'
'We can try,' he said urgently. 'You had best stay here with Matthew to meet Captain Thropton. I'll find Henry. Tell the captain about the prisoners in the barn, and Matthew, make sure he secures the door in Davis's room. We don't want anyone escaping through the smugglers' tunnel.'
John ran back across the yard towards the tower, which was still burning furiously. There was no sign of the earl, but John did not spare him much thought. He was looking for Henry Ellingham. He found him at last near the stables, helping to move buckets of water towards the fire. John pulled him aside. At first Henry did not recognise the bedraggled figure beside him.
'Henry, it is over.' John spoke quickly. 'The King's men are in the Keep now.' He took the young man's arm. 'Is it true Warenford has letters connecting you to the rebels?'
'Aye, but – '
'Then you must escape, for Katherine's sake if not your own.'
Henry scowled at him. 'I'll not run like a coward!'
'Damn you, boy, if you are taken it will kill your father and break your sister's heart. Do you want that? No, I thought not. Now listen closely. The ship that is coming to take the wives across the channel. They'll not be needing it, and that is your chance.'
Henry bit his lip. 'Aye, the ship was to be at the inlet at midnight.'
'Well let's see if it's there.'
John and Henry ducked and pushed through the press of men milling around. It could not be long before Thropton and his men began to round up the rebels. Then there would be panic, so they needed to hurry. Through the alleys they ran, then across the pasture. The lamp burning in the loophole guided them to the postern gate. Henry wrenched it open and stumbled out into the darkness beyond. John followed. Beyond the curtain wall he could hear nothing but the lapping of the waves against the rocks, but his eyes soon made out the black shape of a small boat in the inlet.
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