Mistress Agnes

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  we'll be pretty close to each other all the time anyway, the space between us is just to be able to use a firearm safely.'

  And so they plodded through the bracken, which slowed them down, but not as much as a club between the eyes would. Mr Winfield knew where to go and had explained, so now they made their way to the farm, watching the hounds carefully and keeping their own eyes and ears open as well.

  Dennis mostly felt exhilarated, he should be frightened out of his wits for Agnes, and for Dick, but he wasn't. He was totally convinced Agnes could protect herself, and he would guard Dick with his life. This was how campaigns had been before he had been hurt in body and mind.

  Progress was slow, but after half an hour the black bitch proved Dennis had been right to take the hard way. Instead of walking in front of Dick as far as her leash allowed, she started to look sideways a lot, in the direction where the trail was supposed to be. Dennis halted and watched her for a few minutes, she was obviously checking a scent to their right, and Dennis gestured to Dick that he should kneel in the cover. Before he could give the call they had decided on, the bracken to their left started to move a tiny bit, and Blackears appeared, also following his nose.

  They decided to follow the hounds carefully, hoping to surprise the brigands as they lay in ambush along the trail. Dennis went up front, followed by Mr Winfield, Agnes and Dick making up the rear.

  There was no way they could come within range of the brigands without alerting them, the bracken gave cover but it also made quite a distinctive noise.

  When they saw the men they were seen themselves, and of course the brigands attacked instantly. They were used to cowed farmers, and rushing a party of those would have worked. When they were within range of his rifle, Dennis did not shoot, nor did any of the others. Killing a human in cold blood was not easy, and Dennis preferred to call a challenge.

  'Stop right there. We are heavily armed, and will not hesitate to shoot.'

  But of course these men would hang and they knew it. There was no gain in surrender, and they kept coming. A shot rang out, and one man fell. Another shot, and another man dropped. Dennis did not know who had shot them and whether they were dead or merely wounded, and he would not find out for some time because right then everything happened at once.

  A streak of black tore loose from Dick's hands and hurled itself at the third

  man, Dick shouting, 'Don't shoot, don't shoot, I'm sorry I let her get away, I'll get her myself.'

  And he ran straight towards the brigand, who had his club ready to strike the hound worrying his leg. Shooting was now out of the question, and Dennis ran over to help his large friend, still certain Dick would be no match for a trained soldier.

  The club descended, and Dick intercepted the two-handed blow with a single hand, the other grabbing the smaller man by the neck and lifting him at least a foot above the solid ground.

  'Drop it!' a command rang out, and the black bitch let go of the man's leg and slunk off towards the voice.

  Dennis was ready to fight, but there was no need. Dick had the third brigand helpless, and Agnes was keeping her gun aimed at the other two. Mr Winfield rummaged in his backpack and came up with a length of cord and a knife.

  Minutes later the brigands were bound securely, and Dennis could take the time to check on his companions.

  'I'm fine, Dennis, I shot one guy in the leg and Mr Winfield got the other one.

  Better check on Dick, he seems to be in pain.'

  Indeed Dick did not seem as pleased as he should have been, having saved his mistress' brand-new hound by subduing an undoubtedly superb fighter without breaking a sweat. He did not appear to favour his left hand, but he was even more quiet than usual and avoided the others. Maybe the bloodshed had gotten to him, both wounded men were bleeding profusely, though their lives were not in danger as far as Dennis could tell.

  'Dick, dear friend.'

  Dennis approached the tall man and put an arm on his shoulder.

  'Are you in pain? That was quite a blow you stopped with your bare hand.'

  Taking Dick's large left hand in both his own, he could see no sign of a wound or a break. Dick started at Dennis' touch.

  'I put all of you in danger, Dennis, she surprised me, I'm not used to such a strong dog. I'm sorry, Dennis, I should have held on to her, the mistress entrusted her to me.'

  'Never mind, Dick, you couldn't have known. And you saved her life, didn't you? You're my hero, Dick, the way you caught that blow and held that brigand under control! Congratulations, you've survived your first skirmish.

  Come, let's decide what to do with those brigands. I have no further doubts they're deserters, no civilian would have planned an ambush like that.'

  Two of the three men were in a bad way, both had been shot in the upper leg, not life-threatening but very painful. Remembering their misdeeds, Dennis had bound them ruthlessly, and he still didn't feel sorry for them. They were filthy, their clothes were in tatters and their hair, facial hair too, was grown out and matted with grime.

  'I'll get the buggy, Mrs Beauchamp, if your man can carry the wounded to their cabin,' Mr Winfield suggested to Agnes. Blackears was loose once more, and as Agnes nodded in assent, the hunter walked away with his hound following. As soon as he was out of sight, Dennis took his beloved in his arms and whispered, 'I'm glad you're safe. You did well, my love.'

  'You should have killed us all, Barks!'

  Dennis turned on the third man as quick as lightning, still holding Agnes.

  Hearing his real name for the first time in years had him speechless, though not immobilized, thanks to Agnes.

  'You sure did a lot better than us, damn you! My God, you landed face-down in a pot of cream! You look like a fucking gentleman, with your long hair and your groomed whiskers! And I bet you are tupping the lady, even have her guarding your useless, cowardly arse, a woman to do your shooting and a giant to do your fighting. I bet you don't even do you own shaving!'

  Oh my God, was he ever in trouble now! And Agnes, for aiding and abetting him!

  'Sadly for you, Mr Parker here still does his own thinking.'

  Agnes coolly walked towards the bound man, who had worked himself into a frenzy of indignation despite his depressing circumstances, and smacked him right in the face, hard. Dennis remembered being on the wrong side of that small, elegant hand, he knew how it stung.

  'You watch your mouth when talking to your betters. I'll not have my fiancée slandered by some foul-mouthed brigand, who robs defenceless farmers on the edge of starvation and rapes their wives and daughters.'

  That sure got a reaction.

  'I never touched any of those women, mistress, those two did! Ask any of them women, I never laid a hand on one of them, not even the pretty redhead!

  Please mistress, I don't want to hang, please.

  I'm sorry Barks, I won't squeal on you, I'm sorry I called you a coward, I just repeated what my mates used to say! Please help me!'

  Dennis did not recognize that man and he couldn't imagine how the fellow could have known him. He didn't recognize the others either. Someone must

  have pointed Dennis out to the man as the veteran who'd freeze in fear. Some people never forgot a face, or a name. Maybe Agnes had the rights of it, maybe he could still bluff his way out. Men often resembled other men, after all. Fortunately the other brigands seemed totally unaware of their surroundings, the ravings of one doomed deserter would easily be discounted, especially with Dennis hours away at the manor on the desolate moors.

  'Dick, will you carry the two who cannot walk to the cabin? I'll help this one to his legs, he can walk himself.'

  And walk he did, though the man had a nasty bite on his leg, if he weren't destined for the gallows anyway he'd need a thorough cleaning to prevent infection. As it was, he'd probably be dangling on the end of a rope before the week was out, he had no further need of his leg.

  The man's attitude had changed dramatically, he let himself be stood up without co
mment, though with a grunt of pain, his leg did look pretty badly mauled. That was one kind of puppy, to bite a man so at ten months. A fury, that she was. 't Would be an excellent name for her, Fury.

  Limping along, leaning on Dennis' arm heavily, the man offered no further resistance or impudence.

  'Please, Barks, I didn't mean it. It's clear you are quite somebody now, can't you use your influence to help me? I'll be in your debt forever, I'll do anything for you. I know it's you, it must be, no civilian could have outsmarted us, they always said you were the best. On your good days.'

  Dennis did not reply, he would not lie, but he would not give this man fuel for his suspicions either. The brigand could not be certain of anything, Dennis looked totally different, he had been gaunt and haunted, constantly on edge. His hair had been cropped short, he'd sported as much stubble as had been allowed. With his long flowing locks and indeed, well-groomed whiskers and clean-shaven chin and cheeks, he must look like a fop to this soldier, and to cause the man doubt he'd act like one, though his pride protested.

  He did not speak to the man, there was nothing to say to him, he'd never seen him before and he was not going to listen to someone who had either beaten and raped innocents, or stood by watching others do it. But when they reached the cabin he did not just drop the man but lowered him to the ground gently. No reason to be as cruel as they had been.

  Dick helped carry the wounded men into the buggy, then they followed it to

  their own carriage, where Guy and John were visibly relieved to see them all in good health. Dennis could not shake his fear of being betrayed, though, and just before he ascended the box, Agnes caught him in her arms and whispered, 'Don't say anything, let me do the talking. Be a gentleman, use no coarse language, show no aggression. I don't think there is real danger, yet.

  Love you, my hero. You outsmarted them and saved the day. I'll talk to Dick in the carriage.'

  And they were off.

  Ten minutes saw them nearing the hunter's lodge in the woods where they could hopefully leave the brigands until the army came to retrieve them. Then Agnes could pay for the hounds, arrange payment for Mr Winfield's services, and they could go home, where Dennis felt safe.

  But Dennis was in for a few nerve-wrecking hours, as he was soon to find out.

  The buggy in front of them turned up the lane, and John followed. Agnes would want to know whether help had arrived from town, the doctor and the nurse, and maybe word from the army. It was past lunchtime and Dennis was feeling his stomach complain, he hoped the huntsman's wife would have pity on them and feed them before they drove back.

  From the box Dennis had an excellent view of Mr Winfield's yard, and what he saw there made him want to run and hide as fast as his legs could carry him. A horse with formal tack was tied to a rail, and a squad of ten red-coated soldiers, armed with rifle and saber, complete with hard-faced sergeant, was standing right in front of the house, apparently waiting for their superior officer.

  Never is his life had Dennis been more brave than at that moment, not even when facing an enemy. In battle one had no choice, it was fight or die, but then and there, he could have gotten away, no-one had seen him, yet. In an instant, he decided to stay. If he ran now he would admit who he was to the brigand who had called him out. He would not be able to stay with Agnes, it would be life on the run for him, and loneliness for her.

  Cursing the army for moving quickly this one time he suppressed his feelings of anxiety and tried to really become the young nobleman he had been emulating successfully for months. This was his testing, and failure would mean a quick but humiliating demise.

  John looked at him in shock and Dennis said calmly, 'Please do not let

  anyone see that reaction, John. I'm going to bluff my way through with the mistress, will you please keep Dick away from any soldier, he is so honest his face will give everything away instantly.'

  With a solemn face and a respectful voice, John said, 'I promise I will, master. I'm yours to command, wherever you came from. I trust you with my life, and so does Dick. We'll be busy with horses and hounds.'

  He took Dennis' hand and said, 'Good luck, I'll be praying for you.'

  With that, he jumped off the box to tie the horses, Dennis following him down, then to the door of the carriage.

  'The yard is alive with soldiers, Agnes,' was all he managed to say.

  'Dick, you stay with John, keep the hounds close to you at all times. We'll handle this, you stay away from the sodiers, understand? If you value your friend's life, do not talk to anyone.'

  'I'll stay, too, Mrs Beauchamp. I'll keep them out of trouble.'

  Guy seemed to have himself in hand pretty well, good. Dick would follow him anywhere.

  Dennis felt an arm around his shoulder as Agnes led him to the house.

  'I wish you could run away, Dennis, my heart is cold inside me for fear of losing you. But Mr Winfield would wonder where you were, and that deserter would know he was right. We'll have to hope these troops never knew you.

  It's only a dozen men, there were hundreds of soldiers in that camp, weren't there?'

  'A thousand, and I truly don't look at all like I did then.'

  'Then be the gentleman you always were inside, my beloved.'

  Once in the yard with Mr Winfield, Dennis quickly scanned the youthful, fresh faces of the squad, and instantly knew these were new recruits, on what was probably their first mission, to comb out the woods for a threesome of unarmed deserters. The sergeant was obviously a veteran, but not someone Dennis had ever seen before. And no two men could have a memory for faces and names like the brigand apparently had. If Dennis acted the gentleman to perfection, the fellow wouldn't even be listened to. He was a deserter and as good as dead.

  'Can you believe they sent someone to clear up this mess so quicky? We could have spared ourselves the trouble, though I suppose it was great fun in a way. You've taught me a good lesson, Mr Parker, hunting game is not at all like hunting brigands. I'm glad you were with us, I had been thinking of going after them with my boys, and now I'm glad I didn't. I love my boys,

  you see, and we would have walked right into that ambush.

  One of the brigands kept raving about a deserter named Barks that he was very envious of. He seems to have borne an uncanny resemblance to you. I have assured him that you are obviously a true gentleman of impeccable manners, and that his ravings will not gain him any credit in his trial. I am behind you all the way, sir.'

  'Thank you, Mr Winfield. I hope my resemblance to this low-life character will not get me into trouble, and I thank you for your trust. Will you hand over the prisoners to the officer on duty? It's thanks to your alertness that we found them in the first place.'

  'With Mrs Beauchamp's assistance, I will. It was a true pleasure to meet you, ma'am, you are a very good shot, and I do believe you weren't afraid at all.'

  'Indeed I wasn't, Mr Winfield, I trusted you and my fiancée to outsmart the brigands. Your Blackears did a marvellous job, too. Shall we seek out the officer in charge of this squad?'

  And so they did, Mr Winfield catching the sergeant's attention and requesting him to keep an eye on the prisoners. As the three of them passed the squad to look for the officer inside, of course the splendidly uniformed man was just on his way outside, accompanied by a woman who had to be Mr Winfield's wife.

  The two did not spot the little group coming towards them, they were talking, but when Mr Winfield addressed his wife they both looked up. Dennis felt all the blood drain from his face, for the lieutenant was someone he had known really well. They had served in the same battalion, had lived in the same camp, crossed the channel in the same ship, fought side by side against the hordes of the French. He was doomed.

  Still a part of him was amazed, for private Harley had not seemed the kind to progress rapidly through the ranks. He had the right ancestry, and he was a courageous and manly fellow, but his family was impoverished and for that reason he never expected to be promoted,
not even to ensign. Harley was a good man, and it pleased Dennis to see him moving up in the world, though he would be Dennis' own downfall. There was nowhere to hide, he could only straighten his face and pretend to be Mrs Beauchamp's noble fiancée.

  'Joseph, you're safe!'

  Mrs Winfield cried out in relief and fell on her husband's neck.

  'I've been so afraid, Lieutenant Harley told me it was a supremely dangerous

  thing to do, going after a group of highly trained deserters by yourself. I was afraid you'd all be killed!'

  'Calm now, Dorothy, calm now. Nothing happened, as you can see, and we did get your men, Lieutenant Harley. But you were right, Lieutenant, they were dangerous, it was a close call, without Mr Parker here we would not have come back I'm afraid, and the brigands would have been armed with our guns.'

  Harley looked straight at Dennis, straight at him! And gave not a single sign of recognition. Dennis did not dare feel relief, it couldn't be, the lieutenant had to recognize his former comrade. He was probably contemplating what to do, how to act.

  Now the lieutenant spoke, and he sounded very serious.

  'You took an enormous risk, gentlemen, and you too, Mrs Beauchamp. I know you are a reputed huntress, ma'am, but game generally doesn't lie in an ambush to kill you first. Game isn't trained to find people and take them out.'

  Agnes must have sensed something going on, for she took Dennis' arm possessively and replied gravely, 'I know that now, Lieutenant Harley, and I'll never make that mistake again. But we'd just seen the farmers that had been hit, and we all guessed it would take a week for the army to send help. I'm terribly sorry for my lack of faith, but I was so afraid they'd hit again and again. I felt responsible, you see, most of the farms out here are under my protection.'

  Harley was impressed, Dennis could see that. By Agnes' dedication to her people, but he dared hope, also by her obvious love for him.

  'I acknowledge the truth in your fears, ma'am, for they were in fact legitimate.

  The troops you see here were already mustering when your man's message came, tidings of three deserters wreaking havoc on Mrs Beauchamp's borders had reached the command centre a week ago. You certainly had incentive to strike out on your own, and I'm very glad you succeeded. Please do not think I resent your success, I'm merely very glad no-one else got hurt.