Without waiting for a response he set off, drawing his cloak around him in spite of the warmth. In truth he could not walk far before he disappeared from sight, so almost immediately they were forced to set off in pursuit. They did not pass many people as they walked, but some townsfolk were abroad, discernible in the light of torches: another couple walking out; a hunched figure carrying a basket; a tall man standing against a fence, his square head turning to follow them as they passed.
‘He was not jesting,’ said Nathan after several minutes walking. ‘I think we have—yes! There is his horse. We are back at the corner where we met.’
Now Amery took a different path, striking out more quickly towards the edge of town. He passed through a gate, marching along the wall that marked the town boundary, before turning back in through a different entry, walking right, then left, then exiting through a third gate. This time he headed straight, walking a small distance into the fields until a lonely edifice came into view, seemingly abandoned: unlike most of the houses they had passed in the town, there were no candles at these windows.
‘Here,’ a voice murmured from behind a tree. ‘Step in here.’
They did as the voice bade them, melting into the darkness; anyone on the road would need to have been looking right at them to notice.
‘Are we here?’ whispered Mercia.
‘Yes.’ Amery was looking over her shoulders. ‘Good. I do not think we have been followed.’
Creeping towards the house, they stepped over a low fence and stole quietly through long grass to reach a recess in the rear wall; in the moonlight, Mercia could just make out a low cellar door at its base. Amery eased open the heavy hatch and held it for her to enter, but Nathan tapped her on the shoulder and went in first. She shook her head but let him, following immediately behind.
Feeling for purchase, she found herself descending a narrow set of wooden stairs, a strong earthen smell coming from all around. Behind, a soft thud signalled Amery had pulled the door shut. The space was now totally dark; she had to feel carefully so as not to fall down, but a few steps later her left ankle jarred as she came to the unexpected foot of the stairs. Holding onto Nathan’s shoulder she shuffled a little way forward on what sounded like a cobbled floor. A short way off, a faint orange glow emanated from a spot to her right.
‘The spirit of England lives on in her new namesake,’ called Amery, making her jump. ‘But the pines here are sweeter than the oaks of Kent.’
A pause, and then a familiar voice spoke from the darkness. ‘Well remembered. Now I expect you should all like some light?’
Briefly the orange glow intensified before seeming to split in two, the brighter portion moving up and to the left. Its unexpected strength hurt Mercia’s eyes, but once she had adjusted she looked across to see an illuminated figure in a man’s doublet, his shadow cast on the wall behind. A small alcove in the wall was seemingly aflame, no doubt a fire at which the man had lit his torch.
‘Mercia Blakewood,’ he said, passing the torch to Amery and coming forward, his arms outstretched. ‘I did not think to see you again so soon, but the meeting is most welcome.’
She put her hands in his, squeezing hard. ‘Indeed, Mr Dixwell. Or should I be calling you Davids still?’
He laughed, keeping hold of her hands. ‘Davids is the name I shall still go by in these parts, so I suppose tonight we had better stick to that.’ He looked over her shoulder. ‘And you, Mr Keyte. It is good to see you as well.’
Nathan stepped forward, a broad beam on his face. ‘The pleasure is mine, sir. Thank you again for what you did in New York.’
‘I shall never get used to calling it that.’ He smiled, releasing Mercia’s fingertips. ‘But I doubt I shall be returning there, so what matter?’ He turned to Amery. ‘You are satisfied with the integrity of these people, as I said you would be?’
‘Clemency and the governor are, and so I am too.’ Amery looked at her askance. ‘You must forgive the secrecy, Mrs Blakewood. But you understand, I hope.’
‘I think so.’ She nodded slowly. ‘You and the others are a group helping men like Mr Davids hide away. I know of such societies in England and in Europe. It is natural one should exist here too.’
Amery’s face was all seriousness. ‘Clemency, Percy and I, we are part of such a group. We seek to help those men who must flee the King’s wrath. Those men who sat in trial on his royal father to keep the peace – those same men who must now hide away or be killed.’
‘You speak of men, Mr Oldfield,’ said Nathan. ‘There are more here than Mr Davids alone?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Amery, looking away. ‘But it is best not to say too much.’ He switched the torch between his hands. ‘Let us just say that the King may be restored in London, but he is not so welcome here. Many folk offer help and sustenance.’ He turned to Mercia, looking on with interest. ‘And you, Mrs Blakewood? What think you of the King?’
She glanced at Nathan. ‘He is the King, Mr Oldfield. There is little one can say about that.’
‘Yet he executed your father.’
She narrowed her eyes at his bluntness. ‘He was misled into that. It is a bitter thing to accept, but I would be unjust to afford him all the blame.’
‘Yet do not think so softly on the King,’ said Davids. ‘He has executed many of my fellows, and will have no remorse executing me if he gets the chance.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘I am – what are they calling us in London now? – a regicide! One of those terrible judges who ordered his father’s execution.’ He spoke with drama, but Mercia could hear the worry in his words. ‘It was fifteen years ago, at the end of a cruel civil war, but the King’s memory is fierce. There is no mercy for us.’
‘Perhaps one day,’ said Nathan, ‘you will be able to go back.’
Davids shook his head. ‘The King will not rest until we are all on the scaffolds of Tyburn, hanged, drawn and quartered in his vengeful retribution.’ He rubbed at his forehead. ‘I am a regicide, Mr Keyte. I fled to America for safe haven, and now New York is denied me I must come here.’ He glanced at Amery. ‘I am grateful for your help, my friend. But I would rather give myself up than place others in danger for my sake.’
‘We gladly give you our help,’ said Mercia. ‘You did not shy from aiding us when we needed it. Do not hold back from requesting what you need now.’
Davids frowned at Amery, the torchlight accentuating the creases in his forehead. ‘You have not even asked her?’
‘I have not yet had the chance.’ He swapped hands again, causing Davids’ shadow to waver on the wall. ‘You see, Mrs Blakewood, we intend to take him to Meltwater. With the arrival of the royal fleet, the larger towns like Hartford and New Haven are no longer safe. We hope to hide him there for a short time before moving him further north.’
‘And as we are now going ourselves, you wondered if we could help?’
He nodded. ‘It was meant to be Clemency and I, but she decided she had to leave.’ He looked between her and Davids. ‘You seem to know each other already, so I do not see any harm can come of it.’
Davids bit his lip. ‘Amery, I am still not sure. I came to Hartford as I knew I could seek out your group, but I did not think to involve Mercia.’ He looked at her. ‘If you are found out, you will be in grave jeopardy. You have a son, do you not?’
‘Yes. But there is such a thing as honour, Mr Davids. Danny can remain with the governor.’
‘Wait.’ Nathan folded his arms. ‘If we agree to this, I need your assurances that Mercia will be protected.’
‘I understand your concern,’ said Amery, ‘but there will be no reason to suspect us. We are all riding to Meltwater in any case, me to take up my position, you to visit Clemency. We will put our belongings in a cart and hide Mr Davids with them. Percy will meet us as we near the town.’
Davids frowned. ‘Does Percy know about this?’
‘Not … as such.’
‘You mean no. Will he approve Mercia’s involvement?’
; ‘He has little choice. Clemency and I are satisfied, if you are. Otherwise it will be me alone, and one man could raise suspicion with such a large cart.’ He turned to Mercia. ‘But Clemency was anxious that I say her invitation stands whatever you decide. There is no expectation on you of any kind.’
Mercia looked at Nathan. ‘We have decided. We are going to help.’
Davids held up a hand. ‘One thing more before I consent. What of Thorpe? You said he was in Hartford.’
Nathan’s head jerked up. ‘What is this?’
‘Thorpe is—hold this, will you?’ Amery passed the torch to Nathan and shook out his aching hand. ‘He lives in Meltwater, a keen supporter of the King. I do not know why, but he is in Hartford tonight.’ He chuckled his double laugh. ‘But do not worry. Although the governor knows nothing… he does seem to have arranged a meeting with Thorpe at about the time I was hoping to leave in the morning.’
‘The cunning fox.’ Nathan shook his head. ‘Very well. If Mercia is happy, so am I.’
Davids bowed. ‘My friends, I am humbled by your kindness. Let us then hope our little intrigue works.’
Chapter Six
A lazy beam of sunlight sundered into five dust-strewn rays as it played its way through the branches of the tall Connecticut trees. Riding through the forest, Mercia stopped at a bend in the track to look back at her party: Nathan riding close behind; Nicholas steering the horse that was pulling their cart; Amery Oldfield keeping a steady eye on the bundle of covered belongings from the rear. They had been three hours on the road, and although the weather was good, the mood in the group was tense.
Having agreed to help Davids, there was no longer any question Daniel would have to stay behind; she had felt a mixture of melancholy and guilt as she watched him wave her off, but before she was out of sight he had returned to his friends, his mother already forgotten. Picking Davids up had taken her mind off it: while her company had paused at the side of the road as if to rest, Amery had fetched the regicide from his hideout, the group keeping close watch as he crept into the cart to be enveloped in a mass of blankets.
It was around thirty miles to Meltwater, so Winthrop said; they had started at first light with hope of arriving by mid afternoon. The road was now dry, the earth hard for the horses’ hooves, but the ruts were deep in places, formed after the previous rains. She pitied Davids, surely feeling each jolt as the cart stuttered along the track. Nicholas was continually pausing his horse, allowing it to gather its strength to drag the heavy cart onwards.
They were rounding a bend when the sound of distant hooves floated into Mercia’s hearing. She stopped, listening, signalling to Nathan to do the same. The sounds were coming from behind, and were growing in volume, the individual clops following each other in quick succession. Whoever was on the horse was approaching fast.
‘Side of the road,’ ordered Nathan. ‘Wait in the shade of these trees. Let me see who is coming.’
‘Hopefully just another traveller,’ said Amery.
‘Hopefully.’ Nathan watched as Nicholas reined in his horse and stopped the cart. ‘But let us be safe. Winthrop said not many people travel this road.’
The oncoming rider seemed now nearly at the bend. Of a sudden a horse burst into view, the rider bending low over his mount. Remarking the stationary group, he reined in, slowing quickly. Too quickly, for the horse stopped too suddenly for him to control: it was only the straps holding him down that prevented him vaulting over its neck and onto the hard earth.
‘Here you are,’ he managed to shout. ‘I have pursued you all the way from Hartford!’
‘Pursued us?’ Aware of a sharp intake of breath from Amery, Mercia trotted to the other side of the rider’s horse, drawing his attention from the cart. ‘We were not expecting anyone to travel with us.’
The rider stared, stroking the brown sash he was wearing over his jacket. ‘Really, Mrs – Blakewood, is it? Sir William must have informed you of me? Perhaps Governor Winthrop?’
The lightest of shrugs. ‘Sir William has mentioned nothing.’
In truth she had spoken with the nobleman only briefly that morning, telling him more from courtesy than anything that she was leaving town. He had seemed disappointed, even irked, but she was too preoccupied with her impending task to take much notice.
‘What?’ The rider seemed genuinely surprised. ‘Didn’t mention my special commission from the King himself? I spoke of it with Governor Winthrop this morning, although of course you will have left by then.’ He coughed. ‘Still, he said nothing about your departure. It fell to Sir William to inform me you were headed the same way.’ He looked at her over his horse’s swinging head. ‘And in somewhat of a hurry.’
Nathan rode forwards, positioning himself alongside her. ‘Be that as it may, you have still not said who you are.’ Briefly, he shot Mercia a glance; she saw he suspected as well as she did who the man must be.
The rider rummaged in his saddlebag, withdrawing a rolled parchment and handing it over. There was a steady gleam in his eyes, his head too straight in the air. A cold twinge began to form in Mercia’s stomach.
‘Read this,’ he said.
His eyes fixed on the man, Nathan unrolled the parchment before looking down to read. ‘I see. This is Richard Thorpe. He has been appointed an agent of the King’s commissioners in New York. This is his authority; it has the seal of Governor Nicolls himself.’
The cold twinge grew stronger. She blinked, resisting the urge to look at the cart. ‘Does it say anything further?’
He scanned the parchment. ‘It says he is to – hell’s teeth, this writing is difficult to read – take advantage, is that? – of any opportunities … presented to him to survey the lands of New England … and so on … for the purpose of expediting the mission of the King’s commissioners in understanding their American lands’ – he looked up – ‘and in uncovering the King’s enemies in so acting.’
‘Let me see that.’ Amery came forward to take the parchment, adding his mount to the equine barrier now formed in front of Thorpe. When he had finished reading, he looked up. ‘Mr Thorpe, my name is Amery Oldfield. I am to be the new schoolmaster in Meltwater. I have heard of you by reputation, but I did not realise you were acting on behalf of the King now.’
‘Yes.’ Thorpe’s stern expression relaxed. ‘I rode to New York as soon as I heard of the fleet’s arrival. I wanted to offer my services to the King’s commissioners. I have the time, and well, I have the inclination.’
Mercia put on a smile. ‘Your dedication does you credit, Mr Thorpe, but we have a long way to go.’ She shunted closer to Nathan, opening a side gap she hoped Thorpe would ride on through. But he simply stared.
‘Why are you going to Meltwater?’
She steadied her horse. ‘To see a friend.’
‘And why are you travelling with this man?’ he said, looking at Amery.
‘Because it is convenient, that is all. We met in Hartford and are now riding together.’
‘A pleasant grouping, then.’ Drawing a thin finger across his square jaw, Thorpe leant up in his saddle, trying to peer into the cart. ‘Perhaps I will ride with you. Meltwater is my home. I am physician and surgeon there.’
‘Thank you,’ said Amery, attempting his two-tone laugh, ‘but surely we will slow you. Do you not need to inform the magistrate of your commission as soon as possible?’
‘Indeed.’ Thorpe kicked his right foot from its stirrup. ‘But I shall need to observe the terms of that commission first.’
‘Meaning what?’ said Nathan. Unlike the other two, he seemed perfectly composed; a result of his soldiering past, perhaps.
Thorpe jumped from his horse. ‘I journeyed to Hartford from New York with Sir William.’ He looked up at Mercia. ‘Then this morning, as I was taking my leave before intending to ride for home, he seemed agitated. He said you had been in town, but that you were leaving sooner than he had expected.’ Straightening his sash, he began to walk around the horses. ‘I was surp
rised, for I had thought if you were going to Meltwater, you would have been told I was in Hartford and would welcome the company. But you left without me. Quickly. And heading to visit a woman who has been known to indulge in certain … illegal activities. So while I am sure nothing will be untoward, I fear I am required to examine your cart.’ He grunted. ‘I owe it to my horse, which I pushed hard to catch you up.’
‘Mr Thorpe.’ Mercia’s stomach was now churning. ‘Where I ride and whom I visit is really none of your concern. And as you see fit to mention him, Sir William is an acquaintance of mine. If we could get back on our way, it would be much the better for all of us.’
‘Mrs Blakewood.’ Thorpe wagged his finger at the parchment Amery was still holding. ‘If you read that thoroughly, you will see I have orders to check all who use the highways. The Duke is anxious nothing eludes him.’ Clear of the horses, his eyes rested on the cart. ‘So I must ask what you are carrying with you.’
‘Mr Thorpe, these are friends of Governor Winthrop.’ Amery’s voice was grim. ‘He would not be happy at this treatment.’
‘Alas, that matters not.’ Thorpe sniffed. ‘Particularly given Mrs Blakewood’s … family.’
Nathan set his face. ‘Have a care how you speak – Mr Thorpe.’
Thorpe sighed. ‘I am trying to be delicate, Mr … whoever you are – but if I must spell it out, I will. Her father was executed for treason. Now she is here in America. My commission demands that I search anyone I feel I should.’ He stepped towards the cart. ‘I am going to do just that.’
Mercia closed her eyes, feeling sick. She had intended to help Davids; would her very presence now be the reason he was discovered? She made herself look at the cart, her hands clenching her reins. But then she frowned, surprised to see Nicholas dismounted from his horse and barring Thorpe’s way.
‘Out of my way,’ ordered Thorpe.
Nicholas did not move. ‘Ask nicely.’
‘I beg your—who is this man?’
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