by Candy Rae
* * * * *
There was a rap at the door.
Ruth started and relaxed as she realised it was only the commander of the bodyguard come to escort her to the royal barge where her brother was waiting to say his farewells.
“Come in,” she called out as she bundled together her most precious possessions into the travel bag. She didn’t have much, a few bits of jewellery she had been given by her mother before she had died, a crumpled drawing of some faces her mother had given to her for safekeeping and her embroidery. She placed some kerchiefs and her toilet articles on top. Her clothes and other possessions had already gone.
Lieutenant Xavier Kushner of His Majesty’s Royal Regiment opened the door and marched in. He came to attention and saluted. Ruth was acquainted with the Lieutenant, she knew he was a friend of her brother and she was glad it was he who was to command her escort and not one of the older officers.
Xavier had a merry twinkle in his eyes as he informed her it was time.
“Is Lord Regent Baker, my stepfather at the pier as well?” she asked as she followed him down the corridor and into the castle yard. There was a sedan chair awaiting her, two strong slaves, dressed in an indeterminable brown, at front and back.
“No,” answered Xavier.
“Good,” said Ruth, rather louder than she had intended or was safe.
One of Xavier’s elegant eyebrows rose. Most people didn’t express their dislike of the Lord Regent in so obvious a manner.
“He sends his apologies but has been detained by a matter of state,” explained Xavier and added, “I will tell him of your disappointment.”
Thus recalled to her position and status, Ruth answered flushing, “thank you Lieutenant, yes, please relay to my stepfather my good wishes and hopes for his continuing good health.”
“I will Princess,” Xavier’s eyes twinkled again as he helped her into the chair.
Xavier knew how much the King hated the Lord Regent. It looked as if his twin entertained similar sentiments.
Elliot was waiting. With him were a small group of courtiers. This was the formal leave-taking; she and Elliot had said their real goodbyes the day before.
She curtsied and waited.
“This is not a farewell,” began Elliot, very much on his dignity, “I’m sure you and your husband will be invited back to court soon.”
Ruth smiled and expressed her pleasure as prettily as she knew how.
“I have a present for you,” Elliot continued and handed her a long narrow box, “I got it made specially for you, hope you like it.”
“Do I open it now?”
It was an elaborate pendant. It glinted in the sunlight.
“It’s a copy of the one mother used to wear,” explained Elliot, “our stepfather thought it best that the original remain here.”
“It’s lovely.”
Court manners demanded that Ruth not show any outward demonstration of affection, Sam Baker was very strict about such things so Ruth curtsied instead.
“I must go now,” Elliot said, aware that he must not show his true feelings in front of courtiers and other interested bystanders.
“Look after her,” he commanded Xavier.
“I will Sire.”
Ruth was asked to go below to her cabin so she was not able to see the adolescent figure standing at the end of the pier, watching until the barge was out of sight.
Elliot did not take much stock of Sam Baker’s promise that Ruth would return to court. He knew that it would be many years before he could see his sister again.
Ruth’s journey upriver to the coast would take ten days. She had been permitted an attendant, a young slave carefully selected by Sam Baker from his own household. The girl was pleased at this transfer of ownership although the gift was, in actuality, to Ruth’s future husband. Women were not permitted to own property in Murdoch and slaves were the property of their owner.
During the journey young Bet opened out to her new mistress and Ruth learned about life in her brother’s Kingdom. She was shocked and disgusted.
The royal barge was a large ungainly vessel, longer by half again than those who plied their trade carrying trade-goods. It was also much wider, Sam Baker being fond of his comforts.
On the second day the princess, her young slave maidservant by her side, emerged on to the deck to get some air. She sat down in the chair the bargeman brought and watched the countryside pass by. The land was lush here, so near to the life-giving water of the river and quite unlike further inland.
Ruth began to talk to Xavier, enquiring about what she saw. Confined to Fort and its environs for all of her fourteen years she knew little about the country of her birth and less still about the planet as a whole.
Her questions were intelligent if naïve and Xavier answered them as truthfully as he dared. Noble daughters and wives were expected to say little and ask few, if any, questions, their lives were to be spent in the home, first under their father’s care and protection and then under their husband’s.
During these conversations Xavier found himself liking Ruth more and more. As they drew towards the coast, he began to realise that his feelings were tending in quite another direction than what was right and proper for a guard commander and his charge and one who was, to boot, the intended of another man.
Xavier did his best not to show his regard for Ruth in public, neither his soldiers nor the bargemen saw anything untoward in his attendance on the Princess but he couldn’t stop himself thinking about her. She haunted his dreams.
What if nothing can be done and Ruth does end up as David Gardiner’s wife?
The thought was unbearable.
Both Arthur Kurtheim and Xavier’s friend Ensign Steve Rongman told him to be careful.
“If old Gardiner finds out,” warned Steve, “he’ll get you sent to the most miserable duty station he can think of and see that you remain there the rest of your life. Don’t be a fool, there’s no future in it.”
Arthur was more direct, “curb your passions boy, keep your mind on the job.”
Ruth knew nothing of Xavier’s burgeoning regard for her. Her cloister-like upbringing had not brought with it much contact with the opposite sex. She liked Xavier, thought he was good fun but little more.
The pleasant interlude was over too soon for her liking.
Lord Gardiner himself met her at the riverside where they disembarked and pointed with pride to the fortified tower that would be her home until she wed. His son, he told her, was busy with affairs of state but he was sure he would come and visit soon. He was at pains to point out that the younger David Gardiner was looking forward to both the wedding and Ruth’s transfer south to Castle Gardiner.
Xavier Kushner did not like what he saw in the old Lord’s eyes. He had met the younger David Gardiner and, like the King, was not impressed either with his intellect or his looks. He also had suspicions about the younger David Gardiner’s sexual promiscuities. He wondered if the stories about the lad were true. He watched the old man and it seemed to him that he was being rather over-solicitous about Ruth’s comfort, more like a bridegroom than a father-in-law to be.
Ruth spoke some pleasantries to the old Lord that delighted him. He beamed at her.
“But I am tired and would like to rest,” she concluded. “I have been unwell recently.”
“You’ll soon feel better,” he breezed, “the air is good here. We’ll soon get some colour back to these pale cheeks.” He tweaked Ruth’s nose with his finger and licked his lips. Ruth coloured at the unexpected and unwanted familiarity.
Xavier and Arthur listened to the conversation with a great deal of interest; so the young Lordling was absent was he? This boded well for their plans. There might be a chance.
“I myself,” continued Lord Gardiner, “must return to my castle. I will come and visit, never fear, you won’t be lonely,” and he smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His breathing was deep and noisy.
Even better, old Gardin
er was leaving him in charge of the Princess’s guard, there would only be a few servants and the small coastal detachment of men to deal with. The detachment had quarters apart from the tower as the building boasted only three living spaces.
“This is Sergeant Walker,” continued Gardiner, “he’ll assist you with the guarding of our Princess.”
Xavier accepted the introduction with a thrill of excitement and a careful nod of his head. It would not do for Lord Gardiner to realise that he already knew of the man. Indeed, unknown to everybody else here except Arthur Kurtheim, George Walker was a member of the resistance, committed to both friendship with the north and to undermining the Lords. Xavier suspected he was a spy planted by the north, perhaps even en ex-crewmember of the WCCS Argyll itself.
George Walker was taciturn by nature and did not invite questions as to his antecedents. He ran his post efficiently and Lord Gardiner had no reason to suspect him of being anything other than what he claimed. Xavier suspected the name was false, but that was not unusual in Murdoch, many ex-convicts had changed their names when they landed. It made infiltration by the north that bit easier when there were no reliable records for Baker’s government to check.
“Quarters have been prepared for your men,” announced George Walker to Xavier. “My guards can take over guarding the Princess whilst they rest from their journey and perhaps we could discuss the guard rota over dinner in my personal quarters? Doctor Kurtheim, he too will be welcome once he has settled our royal guest.”
Xavier agreed.
Lord Gardiner saw no need to stay around. He proposed taking the comfortable royal barge down river and he saw no need to ride in his own small one when he could ride in luxurious comfort.
Ruth, Arthur Kurtheim and Bet were escorted to the tower, two local guards following some paces behind.
Xavier followed another to his and his men’s quarters. He would learn more at dinner.
After he had satisfied himself that Ruth was comfortable in the two rooms at the top of the tower – Gardiner was taking no chances – Xavier made his way to George Walker’s rooms. As he entered, the aroma of an enticing meal struck at his nostrils, “that smells good.”
“I have a good cook and it tastes even better believe me. Lord Gardiner has tried to bribe him to his castle many a time but he does not wish to leave here.”
One of Xavier’s eyebrows rose in enquiry.
“He is of the same mind as I am,” answered George.
“Is it safe to talk?”
“As safe as anywhere in this benighted land, but yes it is safe.”
“Your men?”
“I would trust all of them with my life. Wine?”
“Not at this moment thank you. I think I’ll need a clear head for the next bit. We have a problem.”
“Like that is it? I take it that this problem relates to our ailing young Princess?”
Xavier upended his palms.
“Or,” continued George sharply, “perhaps she is not so sick as she first appears eh?”
“Doctor Kurtheim may be encouraging this illness, yes. Don’t get me wrong, the girl has been ill right enough but her slow recovery is certainly down to him.”
“I presume she would make an instantaneous recovery if the need arose?”
“You presume correctly.”
“What do you want me to do for you Xavier, brother of Marcus?
Xavier started.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised, you have the look of him. I knew who you were as soon as we were introduced. I think also I know why you’re here, you plan to take Ruth north?”
“Yes.”
“Then we get her out tomorrow night. No point waiting until your men get into a routine. Safer for my men and me as well. If you go tomorrow Baker is less likely to suspect any collusion between us. Let them think you planned it; you’ll be going with her of course, no point staying here. There’s room in the boat for six.”
“Arthur Kurtheim insists on staying,” said Xavier, “I’ve tried to persuade him but no luck.”
“He’ll be questioned, might let something slip. Let me talk to him and I’ll see what I can do.”
“You have a boat here?”
“Xavier, I always have a boat here for emergencies. Hope you can row. You won’t be able to raise the sail until you are out of sight of land.”
“How are we going to get to it unseen?”
George laughed.
“On my life Xavier, haven’t you realised yet what we do here?”
Xavier looked blank.
“Marcus has told you of the escape route set up for runaway slaves?”
“I know a little,” said Xavier cautiously, “no details though. Marcus probably thought it safer.”
“My view exactly, but this is the end point of their journey. We are a small garrison, an outpost really. Few want a posting here. Those who are here are picked men, absolutely loyal to me and dedicated to getting as many unfortunates back north as we can.”
“You’re in touch with the north?”
George ignored the question.
“So you, Ruth, Arthur Kurtheim if we can persuade him, who else?”
“The little slave maid I think, also Steve would jump at the chance. None of the others can be trusted and probably wouldn’t go if offered.”
“I’ll give you one of my ‘unofficial’ retainers to make up the numbers. As I said, you’ll need to row out until you can raise the mast and the boat is a seagoing one, heavy to handle. You and Steve are landsmen?”
“Never been to sea in my life,” admitted Xavier, “but won’t your man be missed?”
“He’s ‘unofficial’,” explained George, “never been on the population rolls.”
He stared blandly at Xavier.
“Fair enough,” said Xavier with a grin, “ask no questions and you won’t be told no lies, is that it?”
“Got it in one, now, this escape is a little different to the others that we’ve done. There’ll be many questions asked, I do have a plan if you’d like to hear it?”
“Go ahead,” breathed Xavier.
“I’m going to ask the cook to drug the food,” announced George. “There’s a small root native to this part of the world. It won’t kill a person, but it makes them very, very sick, incapacitated. It even looks and tastes similar to one of the spices the cook often uses. It is the only plausible reason I can think of when we are questioned as to why we didn’t notice you going.”
“You sure the drug is safe?” queried Xavier.
“Safe enough but talk to Doctor Kurtheim about it if you feel you must.”
As if on cue, there was a knock on the door and Arthur’s face appeared.
“Offer still open? I could do with a drink. Ruth is in a fine state at all this. I wish old Gardiner had kept his mouth shut. He scared her.”
Xavier told him of the plan so far.
“I’ve got a better idea,” said Arthur. “I’ve got something in my medical bag not so dangerous and don’t tell me different. Even a little too much might well kill you.”
“What have you got?”
“Litjda. Safe and reliable.”
“Do you have enough for everyone who needs to be drugged?” queried Xavier. “Remember too, all the men except for Steve will need to be seen to and they must not suspect their food is being tampered with.”
“I’ve got enough,” said Arthur, “only problem is that unlike redgeworg, litjda has a bitter taste. They’ll need two doses, the smaller one first with their food then another later. If you put it all in the first dose they’ll taste it. The second doses will have to be administered intravenously. I thought something like this might happen. I will administer the second dose.”
George and Xavier looked at each other. What the doctor was proposing was tantamount to a self-imposed death sentence. Ruth’s disappearance would be investigated beyond a doubt. He would be the most obvious suspect. Under torture he would tell all he knew.
“I am ne
arly eighty years old,” Arthur explained, “Ruth is all the family I have, the granddaughter I never had. I promised her mother I would do all I could to get her north, even if it cost me my life. I intend to fulfil that promise.”
“My cook will have to go,” sighed George, “difficult to hide that the litjda was administered in the food. It will leave traces. He’ll be impossible to replace.”
“He takes my place and when you wake up,” continued Arthur, “you and your men must act the part, go to Ruth’s rooms, break down the door. All you will find inside will be me. I know exactly what poison to take, a quick acting and virtually painless way to die.”
“Virtually?”
“No pain, no gain,” said Arthur with an enigmatic smile.
“Ruth?”
“Tell her nothing until tomorrow evening. She might let something slip. Let me have this final day with her.”
“You are a brave man,” said George.
“You think I am brave?” Arthur asked, a quizzical expression on his face. “I once knew an even braver woman. You should have met Ruth’s mother. That was bravery at its highest and most wonderful. My act of bravery if you can call it that will last one single day, hers lasted almost ten torturous years.”
The next day the conspirators played out their parts. George’s cook was told of the plan and tucked the drug inside his apron. He was to add it to the stew pot with the herbs and spices. He accepted the news that he was to go north with incredulous delight.
“I’ll not say I’m not pleased to be going,” he said. “Suspicion will point to me immediately they realise the food was tampered with but what about the house servants? Will they not be questioned?”
“They know nothing,” said George, “and will be drugged with the rest of us and anyway, they’re not permanently based here at the tower. For once Gardiner’s bit-pinching is working to our advantage. If he ever decided to use the tower more often and appointed permanent household staff here, we would not be able to continue our operation.”
Lord Gardiner saw no reason to spend money on staffing an outpost he rarely visited. He had left enough people to care for Ruth but no more.