‘That I do not know. Now kindly make haste. The longboat will take you ashore. You will have an escort.’
Accompanied by two armed sailors, Thomas descended the rope ladder and settled into the boat. It was still raining and the sea was choppy, but he hardly noticed. An order from Sir George Ayscue did not augur well. If Willoughby had capitulated, Agatha had not delivered the message or it had been disbelieved and his principal secretary would hang. Rush would get his way.
The trip to the harbour did not take long. Thomas was helped on to the quay by his escort, put into a carriage with two guards and taken to Bridgetown. At the Assembly House they left him in charge of another guard, who showed him to a small antechamber, closed the door and stood to attention outside it. Thomas sat down and waited to learn his fate.
When he heard voices approaching, he stood up. The door was thrown open and Lord Willoughby, resplendent in full ceremonial dress and followed by Charles Carrington and Adam Lyte, swept in. ‘There you are, Thomas Hill. I am much relieved to see you safe.’ His lordship offered his hand. Thomas’s mind went blank and he only just managed not to kiss it.
‘Your lordship, my relief is greater even than yours. I understood that Sir George Ayscue had ordered me to be brought here and feared the worst.’
‘Indeed he did. The Rainbow is, after all, his ship. I doubt that his captain would have paid much heed to an order signed by me.’
‘Stop looking as if you’ve seen a ghost, Thomas,’ said Charles, ‘or I’ll have you sent back to the ship.’
‘And you’ve got work to do,’ added Adam, ‘so collect your wits.’
‘Is there another message to be decrypted?’
‘No, no, nothing like that,’ replied Willoughby. ‘As my secretary, you are needed this afternoon for an important task.’
‘May I enquire what the task is?’
‘You may. At two o’clock this afternoon, Sir George Ayscue with Colonels Drax and Modyford will present himself here to discuss and agree the terms of a truce. A condition of the meeting was that my principal secretary be released immediately so that he could record it properly.’
‘When Ayscue objected, I advised his lordship to throw you to the wolves,’ said Charles with a grin, ‘or should that be the sharks? Luckily for you, his lordship ignored my advice and pressed the point. Ayscue eventually decided that Tobias Rush would not get his way.’
‘And here you are,’ said Adam. ‘Mary will be pleased. I had sent word that you were a prisoner with little hope of escape.’
‘I thank you all, gentlemen. I am in your debt.’
‘You are in no one’s debt, Thomas Hill,’ replied Charles firmly. ‘You saved Mary’s life not once but twice, you decrypted a vital message and you managed to get word to us about the squadron. It is we who are in your debt.’
‘So Agatha found you. I doubted she would.’
‘She did, and, armed with the information that the squadron carried settlers, not reinforcements, we were able to persuade Ayscue to agree a truce. Clever of you to tell her to mention the Gibbes. I might not have believed her otherwise. And the message also told us where you were.’
‘I won’t ask how you managed to persuade her, Thomas,’ said Adam. ‘You can tell us later.’
‘So there’s been no fighting?’
‘None. The rain saw to that. It hasn’t stopped for six days. Any battle would have had to be a wrestling match and a muddy one at that. Then Agatha arrived.’
‘Enough of this, gentlemen,’ announced Willoughby. ‘Let us prepare ourselves for the meeting. The future of Barbados hangs on it.’
Of the seven men who sat down at the table in the governor’s study at two o’clock that afternoon, Colonels Drax and Modyford were seated either side of Admiral Sir George Ayscue, Charles Carrington and Adam Lyte opposite them and Thomas Hill beside Lord Willoughby, at the head of the table. Thomas was equipped with a stack of excellent rag paper, half a dozen sharp duck-feather quills and a pot of English oak-apple ink. It had been agreed that he would record the terms of the agreement, which would be enshrined in a ‘Charter of Barbados’.
With typical skill Willoughby proposed that they begin the meeting with each man making a brief personal statement. He knew that this would not only allow grievances to be aired and disposed of but would also encourage a spirit of cooperation, as views expressed in private are invariably moderated in public. Willoughby himself then made a fulsome speech thanking Sir George and his fellow officers for attending the meeting and expressing the fervent hope that agreement on all important issues might be reached. He concluded by saying, ‘It seems that our Lord did not wish a battle to take place on this island and sent us enough rain to ensure that it did not. Let us try our utmost to heed his wishes.’
Ayscue’s reply, although less eloquent, expressed a similar wish. A battle that had looked inevitable had been avoided. Let them try to reach an agreement. Drax spoke again of what he called his betrayal and insisted upon the immediate return of all his property. Modyford made an unconvincing attempt to justify his defection in the interests of peace. And Charles Carrington said that as they wanted to go home, they should reach a speedy agreement and do so.
Four hours later, they had. The Charter of Barbados, written out in Thomas’s neat hand, ensured for the island’s inhabitants freedom of religious belief and worship, the independence of their courts and Assembly, freedom of trade, the return of all lands and possessions to those unjustly deprived of them, indemnities for past deeds and actions and a ban on future sequestrations without due course of law. It also outlawed incitements to violence, guaranteed that no citizen would be expected to swear an oath of loyalty of any kind, recommended the restoration to Lord Willoughby of his estates in England, guaranteed the safe return of any man banished by previous governors, required the disbandment of all forces and the immediate release of all prisoners on both sides. Finally, it was agreed that the governor of Barbados would be appointed from time to time by the States of England, that the governor would be empowered to choose his Council and that the Assembly would continue to be elected by popular vote. It would be recommended that Sir George Ayscue would replace Lord Willoughby as governor.
By nine o’clock that evening, a final version had been agreed and signed by all those present. It had only to be ratified by Ayscue’s Council and Willoughby’s Assembly.
Their work done, Ayscue and his two advisers rose to leave. Willoughby and Thomas escorted them to the door and walked outside with them. Their guard stood smartly to attention. ‘Thank God that more bloodshed has been avoided,’ said Willoughby, ‘and just in time.’
‘Just in time?’
‘You haven’t noticed, Sir George? The rain has stopped.’
Admiral Sir George Ayscue, carrying the commission of Parliament to assume the governorship of Barbados, yawned. It had been a long day.
Lord Willoughby turned to Thomas. ‘Thomas, unless you would like to stay on as my principal secretary, Adam will arrange for the next available ship to take you to England.’
‘Your lordship’s offer is a generous one, but my family are in England.’
‘So be it,’ said Willoughby, extending his hand. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’
‘Just one thing. I would be grateful if you would give Sir George five sovereigns for the man Ned who looked after me on the Rainbow.’
As if he were quite accustomed to such requests, Lord Willoughby produced a leather purse from his pocket, counted out the sovereigns and handed them to Sir George Ayscue.
‘Thank you, your lordship,’ said Thomas. ‘I have two more matters to attend to and then I shall be ready to go home.’
CHAPTER 28
THE BRUTES’ GOLD first, then Rush. When he arrived at the track leading to the brutes’ hovel the next morning, Thomas dismounted and left his horse in the shade on the corner of the road. For a reason he could not explain he was nervous returning to this place, half expecting the brutes
to jump out of the trees and set about him with their whips. Come now, Thomas, the brutes are gone, there’s no one here but you and it won’t take long to do what you’ve come for and be away. Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, he strode up the track.
But there was someone there. Tethered to the listening tree was a horse harnessed to a flat cart of the kind used for transporting barrels of sugar. Very cautiously he moved forward, alert to any movement or sound. Hearing a voice, he crept round the hovel, keeping within the cover of the trees. A shirtless man armed with a long-handled shovel was frantically digging at the privy. Thomas smiled. It was the new privy, not the old one where he suspected the gold was buried, and the man was covered in filth. Who the digger was he had no idea but he would not find the gold there.
When he glimpsed movement in the trees beyond, however, his smile disappeared. There was no mistaking the figure in black watching from the shade. And when he spoke, there was no mistaking his voice. ‘Get on with it, man. I’m not paying you to dig like an old woman. Bend your back or I’ll bend it for you.’ Tobias Rush had got there first.
Thomas could see that the filth-covered digger was exhausted and no threats from Rush were going to give him strength. He would soon have to rest.
‘I’ve dug out all the shit,’ the man grumbled, ‘and there’s nothing here. How deep do I have to go?’
‘As deep as I tell you,’ snarled Rush, ‘and be quick about it. I know it’s buried down there and I want to be away.’
The wretched man dug for another minute or so, then abruptly stopped. Leaning on his shovel and looking up at Rush, he cursed loudly. ‘That’s as far as I’m going. There’s nothing here. If you don’t believe me, dig it yourself. I’ll take my money and be gone.’
‘Money? You get no money from me, you idle pig. Dig or be damned.’
For a moment, the digger stared at Rush. Then he climbed slowly out of the hole. When he threw the shovel Thomas was just as surprised as Rush. It hit Rush in the face and knocked him to the ground. Rush dropped the silver-topped cane and, in a trice, the man was on him, his hands around his throat. Thomas did not move. There was a pistol shot and the man rolled off Rush. The flintlock must have been primed and hidden somewhere inside Rush’s cloak. The man lay still. Rush got to his feet, dusted himself down and picked up the shovel. He left the man where he lay, took off his cloak and climbed down into the hole.
Carefully keeping behind Rush, Thomas moved out of the shadows and crept towards the hole. Twice he thought Rush had heard him and was about to turn round, but he was too intent on his digging to notice anything. Thomas reached the cane and picked it up. He knew this cane well enough. He had another just like it at home in Romsey. Twisting the silver handle, he pulled out the narrow blade and tested the tip with his finger. Needle-sharp, just like its twin.
‘You won’t find anything there, Rush,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s the wrong privy.’ Rush stopped digging and turned slowly towards him. His head was little higher than Thomas’s knees.
‘Hill. So we meet again.’
‘Indeed we do. Now kindly drop the shovel. As you can see, I have luckily come across this swordstick lying on the gound. The blade is made of the finest Toledo steel, you know. Very sharp.’ Rush put down the shovel, his eyes never leaving Thomas.
‘And now what do you propose, Hill?’ asked Rush with a smirk. ‘If you kill me, you will never see your sister and her lovely daughters again.’
‘Is that so? Now that the truce has been signed, I will soon be on my way back to England. Lord Willoughby is arranging my passage. I shall find Margaret and the girls, whether you’re dead or alive.’
Rush snorted. ‘Not in England, you won’t. They’re here, hidden safely away and under guard. The guard has orders to kill them if I have not returned by tonight.’
‘I don’t believe you, Rush. Why would you bring them here and why would you tell me where they are?’
‘If I told you they were in England, I would be of no further use to you and you would kill me. As they are here, I will take you to them in return for my freedom. I brought them here because I thought they might like to see how you were faring with the Gibbes. It would have amused me to observe your nieces’ tears. The Gibbes may be dead but at least they’d told me where the gold would be.’
‘It seems they misled you. If there’s gold, it’s in the old privy over there.’ Thomas gestured with the sword.
Rush nodded. ‘In that case let me suggest a bargain. I will dig out the gold, which we will share. Then I will take you to your sister. She and her daughters will be yours.’
‘How do I know I can trust you?’
‘You don’t. But can you take the risk? Kill me and your sister and nieces will die.’
‘And if I don’t kill you?’
‘You must rely on my word. In truth, I’m a little tired of them. Pastures new for Tobias Rush, I fancy.’
Thomas considered the proposal. Rush’s word was worthless but could he take the risk? He would have to find Margaret before nightfall. ‘Very well, Rush, I agree.’ He stared at Rush, watching his reaction. ‘With one small change.’
‘Which is?’
‘You will first tell me where they are, then you may climb out of that shithole.’
‘How do I know I can trust you?’
‘You don’t.’
‘Touché.’ Rush thought for a moment. ‘As you wish. Your sister and her daughters are at a house on Long Bay, to the east of Oistins. I will take you there when we’ve found the gold.’
‘If you’re lying, Rush, I will kill you.’
‘I know. That is why I have told you the truth.’
‘Then you’d better start digging. Long Bay is a good fifteen miles away,’ said Thomas, stepping back to allow Rush room to clamber out.
Rush threw the shovel out and hauled himself up until his knees were clear of the hole. He knelt on the ground, as if to catch his breath. Thomas’s eyes never left him and did not miss the hand slipping under the shirt. Even before it emerged with the dagger, he had the point of the swordstick at Rush’s throat.
‘You lied, Rush. I knew you would. So did I.’ The sword slipped smoothly into Rush’s neck. There was a fountain of blood and Rush’s eyes widened in shock. Thomas pulled out the sword and used his boot to kick the dying man back into the hole. Then he took the shovel and heaped earth and filth over him until the hole was full.
Panting for breath, Thomas leaned for a moment on the shovel and looked for any sign of movement in the hole. There was none. Rush was dead – but he would have to move fast. He wasted no time in setting about the old privy, shovelling out heaps of soil and muck as quickly as he could.
The first bag was about three feet down, four more just below it. He heaved each one out. If there were more, they would have to stay there. Perhaps some lucky person would find them in a hundred years’ time.
It took him five trips to load five foul-smelling bags on to Rush’s cart. Rush had been dead an hour when Thomas climbed up and took up the reins. Then a thought occurred. He jumped off the cart and ran up the path to his hut. The door was open and he went in. On the table was the silver inkwell and under the cot was the list of adjectives. He put both in a pocket.
Then he ran on up the path and down to the slaves’ quarters. He knew before he reached the huts that they were deserted. There were no voices and no smells of cooking. The slaves had taken their chance and escaped. Despite the attack on the Lytes’ estate, he hoped they would survive in the woods. They had suffered enough. He ran back to the cart and set off for the Lytes’ house.
It was midday when the horse, hot and tired from being urged on at a pace he was not used to, pulled the cart up beside the Lytes’ parlour. Thomas jumped down and ran into the house. There was no sign of Adam, but Mary was there, reading a book and sipping a glass of wine. She looked up when she heard him.
‘There you are, Thomas. I was worried. Where have you been?’
�
��Mary, my apologies. I thought it best not to tell you in case you tried to stop me. I’ve been at the Gibbes’s estate. There are five bags of gold outside. Could someone help me bring them in?’
‘Certainly, although if they smell like the last bag of gold that came here, it won’t be me. Fetch one of the men from the kitchen.’
When the bags had been unloaded and put in an empty storeroom, Thomas returned to Mary. ‘Is Adam here?’ he asked. ‘I must be off at once and could do with his help.’
‘Adam has gone to Bridgetown. The Assembly meets today to confirm Sir George Ayscue as governor. Why do you need help?’
‘Tobias Rush is dead. I believe my sister and nieces are under guard at a house on Long Bay. They will be killed if I don’t rescue them by nightfall.’
‘Your sister is here?’
Thomas nodded.
‘Then we must waste no time. Long Bay is a good ride from here. Saddle two horses, Thomas, while I change my clothes.’
‘Mary, this will be dangerous. I can’t possibly allow you to come. Let me take someone else.’
‘Nonsense, Thomas. I won’t hear of it. And a woman’s touch might be just what’s needed. Now go and prepare the horses.’
Thomas had heard that tone before. He went to find two good horses.
By the time they had covered half the distance to Long Bay, Mary had heard about Rush’s death and what he had said about Margaret and her daughters. There was no certainty that they were at Long Bay but it was all they had. And Thomas suspected that Rush, perversely, had for once told the truth in the expectation that he would kill Thomas before he could act upon it. It was just the way his devious mind would work.
She suggested a plan. ‘Long Bay is a wild spot. I didn’t know there were any houses there. That’s probably why Rush chose it. I’ll approach the house from the front, knock on the door and pretend to be lost. I’ll distract the guard while you look for a back entrance. Get inside and find your sister. If she doesn’t faint when she sees you, keep her quiet somehow. And the girls. No screaming and no shouting. Get them out and run. I’ll keep the guard busy as long as I can.’
The King's Exile (Thomas Hill Trilogy 2) Page 28