by Griff Hosker
His French had not improved since lunchtime. “Hand over your purse and you might live.”
“How dare you!” I raised myself to my full height. He did not notice that I had turned the stick so that the ferrule end was in my hand. “Out of my way, ruffian!”
Just then the one called Andre spoke behind me. “There are three of us and we don’t mind slitting your throat. But we would rather let you live and then sell your clothes.”
Jean stepped out and stabbed Andre through the heart. I swung the stick at the surprised Jack and smacked him on the head making him stagger backwards. The second Englishman must have had a club for I was struck hard from behind and I fell forwards. As I stumbled I reached into my boot and pulled my stiletto out. The one called Jack shook his head to clear it and then roared as he leapt at me. I used the stick to deflect the sword which was aimed at my throat and then stabbed upwards with the knife. It slid into his gut and he groaned as he slid to the ground. Behind me I heard the death gasp as Jack finished off the man who had clubbed me.
“You alright Robbie?”
Yes. He just winded me and I will have a bruise in the morning. Nothing to worry about.”
The one called Jack was still alive. “Question him Robbie. Find out how many other men he has.”
I spoke in English and his eyes popped open as I did so. “You are dying. Is there anyone you want me to tell?”
“You’re a Jock!”
“Yes, I am Scottish.”
“You spoke like a frog!”
“I know. Is there anyone?”
He wheezed. “No, there’s no one bothered about me.” He coughed a little blood up. “You are quick, I’ll give you that.”
“How many more men does the Russian have?”
Even in his pain his mind was working, “So that’s your little game eh? You want to rob the Russian. Well good luck to you.” He had a spasm of coughing and I thought for a moment that he had expired but he opened his eyes. “No skin off my nose. He’s a tight bastard. There are twelve of us.” He suddenly laughed and more blood came out. “There were twelve including him. There’s just nine now.” He shook his head and his eyes closed. “The bastard better watch…” and then he died.
I stood, “We had better get out of here before someone comes.” As we fled the scene I said, “There are nine left, including the Russian.”
Jean nodded, “Slightly better odds than I had hoped. We will have to find another ruse to lower the odds.” We had worked out that there were six plus the Russian in Amiens; that left five at the chateau.
We were up early the next day in our working clothes rather than our fine clothes. My jacket smelled like a vinery and would have to be cleaned before I could wear it again. We walked down the street and entered the boulangerie. This time we pretended to be working men and asked for one baguette. It was a woman serving and she paid us no mind. As we left I could see that there were no guards but I could see shapes in the upstairs room and there sounded to be a heated argument. We took ourselves down the street and divided the baguette. We each ate half as though we had not eaten for a week. A few moments later three guards came out of the office. One stood at the end of the corner while a second lounged on the pavement. The third disappeared down the street.
My stomach told me it was midday when the third man returned with two other men. I recognised one from the chateau. “We have him worried Robbie. Now it is our turn to do the stalking. We will follow them tonight and see where they live. If we take out another two then he will be forced to bring most of his men from the chateau. We will eat where those men ate yesterday. We may be lucky.”
As it turned out we were not lucky. They did not eat there. Towards dusk we returned to the office and waited. The light in the upstairs room was doused and the Russian came out. Flanked by his five men they marched down the street. Anyone who got in their way was pushed aside and they stared at all those who approached them as potential attackers. We had them worried. Their belligerent attitude helped us as they never looked behind them. They crossed the bridge and went to a large house standing alone. The Russian went in after speaking to the men. Three went in with him while the other two walked back towards us. We followed them at a distance. Once they had crossed the bridge we sped up and soon caught them as they passed an alley way close to the cathedral. We went to overtake them but one of them grabbed Jean’s arms as we passed them.
“What is your game? I have seen you before.” Jean was dragged into the alley.
I saw that there was no one near and, as the second man tried to grab me I head butted him. He fell against his companion and they fell, along with Jean to the ground. I saw the man who had grabbed Jean pull a long knife from his boot. It looked wickedly sharp. I kicked at it. Although he retained hold of it I knew that I had numbed his arm. The second man pulled his knife. It was too narrow a space to evade him and I grabbed my stiletto just as he stabbed at me. That was a mistake. My weapon could only stab but he could have used his knife like a sabre and slashed at me. I grabbed his hand and stabbed at his throat with my blade. He grabbed my hand and we fell over Jean and the other man who were grappling on the floor. I looked into the man’s eyes and saw fear. He thought I could beat him and that gave me extra strength. I pushed harder. I had the advantage now as my blade had a better point. He tried to push me but my left hand is as strong as my right. I kept pushing and I saw the fear fill his face. He began to mutter, “No, please! Please!”
He should have concentrated on holding me for suddenly his resistance ended and the stiletto went through his eye and into his brain. He died without a sound and without any blood. I stood and looked for Jean. He too was standing. “Let us get out of here. I think our time in Amiens is done.”
We went back to the hotel and packed, paid our bill and left. We rode straight for Julian and his inn. I suspected that there might be a hue and cry after another two deaths on top of the first three. The inn was in darkness. We knocked on the door. I saw a light from under the door. Jean said, “Julian, it is us; Jean and Robbie.”
I heard a mumbled conversation and then the bolts on the door opened and a young woman with a sheet around her shoulders stood there. She smiled and said, “Julian said you are friends. I am Monique. Put your horses in the stable.”
“Off you go Robbie. I will open the back door.”
I walked through the arch which led to the yard. I could see that Julian had been busy. It was swept clean and the stables now had a working door. I took off the saddles, rubbed the horses down and fed them. I then went to the back door which was open. Jean met me. “We can go straight to our room.” He grinned, “Julian is a little occupied.”
As we prepared for bed he told me of his conversation with Julian. Monique, it turned out, was an orphan and was happy to be a live in servant. However the mutual attraction meant that that arrangement lasted less than a night. It looked like fate was smiling at last on our friend.
We put on working clothes and took our weapons as we headed for Breteuil. We reached there as dawn broke and we waited in the hedgerow opposite the main gate. There were two men on guard and they had a brazier going to keep them warm. We had been there for some time when he heard the galloping of hooves and four riders approached. It was the Russian and his men. They paused at the gate and then entered. The two guards suddenly looked more vigilant.
We backed into the woods. “I think we were too successful. We have frightened him to the arms of the Black Widow.”
“So we have failed?”
“No. We merely have to change direction. We know the estate and we know where the guards are. If we were on campaign when would we attack an enemy who was camped?”
“I would do it just before they change guards when they are tired and ready for their bed.”
“Which is what we will do. We will head back to Julian’s and we will prepare for tonight.”
Our swords would be of no use at night and so we made small clubs and took knives. We
also took some hanks of rope. We tied the horses to a tree in the woods and made our way towards the gate. We went to the right of the gate and slipped out where the road curved and we were hidden from view. The fire was burning low which was a sure sign that their shift was almost over. They would not do the work of the others. If they were chasseurs then they would as we were all on the same side. These were deserters with no allegiance to each other at all. They were in it for the money. It was that type of greed which had caused three of their colleagues to die already.
We made our way along the wall. Trees overhung it and the leaves had not all fallen. The undergrowth also afforded us cover. The two men made it easy for us as they huddled around the warmth of the brazier. They were oblivious to all behind them. I could almost hear their conversation. They would be wondering what they would be eating. They would be anticipating a drink. They would be looking forwards to a warm fire.
We could both move silently when we wished. We crept up behind them and struck them both a blow on the back of the head. We were not gentle and they collapsed in a heap. We disarmed them and trussed them up like a piece of meat. We took off their breeches and their shoes and put them in the fire. A man without breeches is less brave. They had a pistol each and we added them to the brace we carried. By our reckoning there should just be the Russian and five men inside the chateau. We were entering a building we knew like the back of our hands.
Once through the gates we ran towards the house. Any sign of a sudden light would alert us to someone coming out but no-one did. We halted next to the climbing rose which clambered up the wall close to the back door. Suddenly we heard the noise of a door opening. “Don’t forget to relieve us early tomorrow. This is a long shift! We did one yesterday.”
“Well it’s not my fault that the others got themselves killed is it?”
“Yeah well there is someone out there with a grudge against the boss that is for certain.”
Two of the voices had a Germanic accent but we had no time for further thought as the light went out and we heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel as the two guards came from the servant’s entrance. We were dressed in dark clothing and pressed against the wall as they came along. We were almost invisible. One of them must have sensed something as he half turned. Our clubs were ready and the two of them crashed to the gravel. We did the same as with the other two guards and pocketed two more pistols. We were now well endowed with pistols.
We crept to the back window and peered in. There were no men but there were four women there. One looked to be crying. In one movement we stepped in and held our fingers to our lips.
“We mean you no harm. Would you like to leave?”
The one crying said, “We would love to but we will be beaten if we do.”
Jean shook his head, “No, you will not. The guards are taken care of.” He took out the handful of coins we had taken from the guards. “Here take this as payment. There are better places to earn a living.”
As they began to leave I asked, “How many more servants are there and how many guards?”
“Two guards in the house and no other servants. They all left or they were…” The one crying held a cloth to her mouth and fled.
There were no more innocents left in the house and we each took out two pistols and left the kitchen. I assumed that the other two guards would not be in the grander quarters but there was a small servant’s hall with a fire and a range. We headed for it. Our luck had held until then but it ended when one of the two guards decided to leave the hall. Jean and I were framed in the hall way. The man was quick and he pulled at his pistol. Jean fired both of his guns and the guard flew back into the hall. The second man fired blindly through the door and a splinter from the door struck Jean on the cheek. I kicked the door open and fired both barrels as soon as I saw the figure advancing with the musketoon. I kicked the lifeless body to make sure he was dead.
“What’s that?” The accent was Russian. We discarded the pistols and took two more from our belts. The Russian appeared at the top of the stairs. Behind him was Mama Tusson. The Russian carried a brace of pistols.
“What are you doing in my house?”
“I think you will find the house belongs to my young friend here. He is the son of the Count of Breteuil.”
Suddenly Mama Tusson spat out, “Kill them Gregor! They are the ones who killed your men!”
Jean said, “We killed your men when they attacked us. Your guards are trussed up outside. We had no quarrel with you. Take your men and go. Leave Amiens and find somewhere else to ply your trade. You have damaged enough lives here.”
He smiled, “I think you over estimate your own abilities. Besides this is now my home and I do not intend to flee because a couple of nobodies ask me to.” Even as he was speaking he was bringing his guns up and squeezing the triggers. Had we not been soldiers then his speedy action might have succeeded but we had quick reactions and we both moved to the side, firing our own weapons as we did so. The smoke from six pistols made a fog so thick that you could see nothing. It made us both cough. The discharges in the confined space had been so loud that my ears were ringing. I looked around for Jean and saw him standing on the stairs reloading one of his pistols. I did the same. By the time we were reloaded the smoke had cleared and the Russian lay on the stairs his chest ripped open by the force of the balls. Mama Tusson lay at a strange angle behind him. We slowly mounted the stairs. One ball appeared to have gone through the Russian and struck her in the heart. As it had become flattened during its journey it had made a large hole and killed the Black Widow instantly.
We lit candles and began to search the house. We found many papers which told the story of the greed of the two of them. There were deeds to many properties in Breteuil. We also found boxes of jewellery. The Black Widow had obviously been something of a magpie taking pretty things from those that they abused. We placed the papers and the jewels in boxes; we had plans for those. I also found my father’s signet ring. It was the one he used to seal documents. I suppose it was returned after he had been executed. The French Revolutionary bureaucrats could be quite proper at times.
We took the two bodies to the rear of the house. Dawn was beginning to break. We searched the house and the grounds. The most upsetting sight we discovered were the bodies of two young women. They did not look to be more than fourteen. From the state of their bodies they had been used most foully before they had died. I had not regretted the killings but now my heart hardened and I regretted that the deaths had been so swift.
With loaded pistols we went back to the four guards who had shivered into consciousness. While Jean covered them I cut the tethers on their legs and we led the four of them to the bodies. Jean pointed to the dead girls. “Who did this?”
There was ice in his voice. The Hanoverian almost broke into tears. “It wasn’t us I swear. The Russian he liked young girls and she liked to watch him.”
“There were others?”
He nodded and pointed to a blackened area where a bonfire had been. “He had us burn their bodies.”
“Where did he get the girls from?” I thought we might be able to find their parents.
He looked at the ground shamefaced. “The Russian had their parents killed and he took their property. They were all accused of being disloyal to France.”
“By Mama Tusson?” The four of them nodded. “And you killed them.” It was not a question but a statement.
“We had no choice.”
I saw Jean’s fingers tightening on the triggers. “Jean, they had been soldiers. They were obeying orders.”
“But Robbie, killing unarmed civilians and letting,” he pointed at the pathetic bodies unable to speak the words, “this happen; it is not right.”
“I know but I for one have had enough of killing and I will not shoot four unarmed men.”
The Hanoverian sobbed, “Thank you sir.”
“I do not do it for you, deserter and if we ever see you again then I will kill you on
sight.”
Jean looked at me and nodded. “You four get some wood we will burn these four bodies and then we can leave this charnel house.”
We would have buried the girls but there would have been no one to visit the grave and neither of us could face the prospect of the bodies being dug up by foxes and further desecrated. We had buried comrades before and Jean said the right words as the two girl’s bodies were consumed.
When the fire was dying down Jean faced the four men. “Find yourselves shoes and breeches. We will be leaving here in an hour. If we see you again we will kill you.” The coldness in his voice left them in no doubt of his intentions. Get as far away from here as you can.”
They ran, still with their hands tied, towards the gate. “What do you think they will do Jean?”
“I think they are rats and they will find their own level. They will continue to do what they have done but they will find bigger rats who will consume them.” He shrugged. “I suspect they will go back to the home and office of their former employer. I think he would have secreted money there.” He pointed at the chests. “We will take these to Francois and let the lawyer deal with them.”
We took the horses from the stables and hitched them to a wagon we found. We loaded my father’s bed and a couple of chairs upon it. Julian could have the use from it. We went to the inn where he was delighted with his bounty. “If you wish to take anything else from the house then feel free. I think Robbie here is the rightful owner but I have no confidence that the courts would look favourably on him so we would prefer our friends to benefit. The cart and the horses are yours, a gift.”
Francois read the letters and the papers. He sat back in his chair and his young face suddenly looked careworn. “This is a travesty. The two of them were evil, I knew that but their perfidy knows no bounds. They have used the Revolution as a tool to satisfy their own greedy ends.” He pointed to the jewels. “What would you have me do with these?”