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Authors: John Pilkington

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BOOK: Marbeck and the Privateers
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They rode in silence, walking the horses, with Marbeck in the rear. His presence had been explained by their captain: he was a Crown messenger, here to witness events and report back to the Admiralty court. He was soon ignored, the soldiers banding into a tight column. As he followed them he felt their strength of purpose, and wondered whether Niles's orders would be followed: in their place, he thought, anger might well have overruled him. But he settled down to his ride, Cobb keeping pace with the dim outline of the horse in front. And in this way, when perhaps two hours had elapsed, they neared their destination and halted.

What followed would be the most difficult part: the final wait before the dawn attack. The troop dismounted, a picket line was set up and men detailed to guard the horses. Others descended the grassy slopes to Chesil Beach to take positions. Finally the remaining force of about a dozen gathered together, and Marbeck was able to approach Niles. He was recognized in the gloom, and waved forward.

‘Over there,' Niles said, pointing. ‘Do you see?'

Following his arm, Marbeck peered into the distance. Half a mile away, on a hilltop, a faint light was visible.

‘Quiney's manor is walled, the house in the shape of a great I. Stables and other buildings are also inside the walls, as I remember. There's a two-storey gatehouse, no doubt with a watchman.' Niles turned to his ensign, who stood near. ‘Take your force round to the right, then spread out, twenty paces from the walls. My cohort will come up on the left and complete the encirclement.'

‘I can place a marksman near the gatehouse,' the young man said. ‘What about the road?'

‘One man concealed on either side of the gates,' the captain began – then suddenly he gave a snort. ‘But it's not an army we face, is it? It's Sir Edward Quiney, his family and servants … even if some are sure to be armed.'

‘As Buck will be, if he's there,' Marbeck put in.

Niles looked away. ‘I thought I might leave him to you. I can't be everywhere.'

After that there was silence. Niles's men sat, squatted or stood about, some shifting restlessly; dawn was still some hours away. Then came a minor stir, and a soldier hurried through the company to halt before his commander, somewhat out of breath.

‘They've caught a man down on the beach, sir,' he said. ‘One of Quiney's servants, the corporal thinks. He was guarding a boat. They're bringing him up now.'

All heads turned towards the path, which sloped away through gorse and coarse grass to Chesil. Marbeck heard no sound save the distant rattle of surf on pebbles. The company waited, until finally voices could be heard. Niles and his men formed a rough semicircle as three figures appeared. Two were soldiers, while the other, being marched between them, was a man in plain garb. He was thrust forward roughly, to fall at Niles's feet in terror.

‘Mercy, sir!' he cried. ‘I was but minding the skiff, and getting ready for a bit of fishing when the tide comes in … believe me, I've done no harm to anyone!'

‘You serve Sir Edward Quiney?' Niles enquired briskly.

‘I do, sir. I'm an Abbotsbury man … I catch rats and trap coneys, nothing more—'

‘Where's your master?'

‘Sir Edward? He's … he's at home, far as I know …'

The man nodded quickly, avoiding the captain's gaze. Niles regarded him for a moment, then spoke to his ensign. ‘There's hardly a tree hereabouts,' he said casually. ‘But could you rig up a tripod, high enough to hoist this rat-catcher off the ground by his wrists?'

‘With ease, sir,' the lieutenant said, straight-faced.

The prisoner gulped, and a moan slipped from his mouth. ‘Jesu, master! I beg, ask what you will of me—'

‘I did ask,' Niles said. ‘But I think you lied. You wouldn't want to do that – not to me.'

He waited until the man found courage to look up. ‘Then, I beg pardon …' He swallowed, and dropped his gaze. ‘Sir Edward has gone away, is what I meant to say.'

There was a stir from the soldiers. ‘Gone where?' Niles demanded. ‘Speak the truth, or I'll have you taken to Portland Castle and put in chains!'

The servant started to shake. ‘I know not where he is, sir – I swear it. There was a fearful coil here this morning … Lady Quiney went away in the coach with her daughter and her maids. The master sent riders off with messages, one by boat too. Then this afternoon Sir Edward himself took a boat, and was rowed out to sea with his servants. That's all I know … I swear to you!'

‘John Buck – is he in the house?' Marbeck asked sharply, staring down at the quaking prisoner. When nobody challenged his right to speak, he added: ‘I have powers to interrogate you too, so it's best you tell me.'

The man was nodding again. ‘Buck came here Saturday, after dark. Rowed himself up from Wyke, by Weymouth. His wife was with him too – the master was displeased, I heard. I've been on the beach since sunset, so I know not if they're still at the house …' He threw a scared look at Niles. ‘Indeed, master, I know not if anyone is there now. There's no need for arms – you may enter freely and see for yourself.'

‘My thanks, but I'll decide how best to proceed,' the captain said coldly.

For a while nobody spoke. Soldiers shifted impatiently, while the ensign looked pointedly at Niles. Finally the captain drew a breath and said: ‘We won't wait until dawn. Give the order to mount – we ride in now.'

There was a collective sigh of relief, and at once the soldiers began to move. Marbeck was about to go too, when he heard the captain say: ‘It looks as if there may be no one to fight. I know that'll be a disappointment to you.'

‘Do you mind if I search the house anyway?' Marbeck asked. ‘I'd like something to take back to my masters, however trivial.' And when the other gave a nod, he went to find Cobb.

But he walked heavily, for what he felt was more than disappointment. Too often, in recent years, he had watched powerful men escape justice. Somehow the prime movers of plots and stratagems always managed to avoid capture, leaving lesser figures to pay the price. He'd seen it happen the year before, when the money-lender Augusto Spinola had vanished after financing a plot to put a Catholic monarch on the English throne. Now Sir Edward Quiney, who owned the Sea Locusts and profited by them, was gone to sea.

Once mounted, however, he forced such thoughts aside: he was eager to get to the manor and search every corner of it. Restlessly he waited while the troop got horsed and ready, until finally the order came to move. Thereafter, following a path through long grass, the party moved swiftly towards the distant light, the ground rising steadily. After a while the path petered out and they were riding through cleared land with an uninterrupted view of the manor. Soon the gatehouse rose ahead of them, with the shape of house and outbuildings beyond. Marbeck was in front now, a little way behind Niles … and as one, they halted.

The gates stood wide open, and the courtyard beyond appeared deserted.

‘I can take half a dozen men and ride around the walls,' the ensign said, reining in close by. ‘Just to make certain.'

‘Do that,' Niles murmured, his disappointment plain to see. Having waited for the ensign to ride off, he turned to Marbeck. ‘I won't give you orders, but if you come upon anything I should know about, inform me at once.'

Marbeck said nothing; and after calling out an order, the captain shook his reins and rode forward, under the arch of the gatehouse. No lights burned anywhere, and no one appeared. Soon the entire company had passed inside, and there was a mêlée as men dismounted. Torches were lit, and Niles, followed by others, was soon striding towards an imposing flight of steps leading into the house itself.

Marbeck walked Cobb slowly through the gateway, then halted and remained in the saddle, taking his bearings. He saw a light at an upper window, and guessed it was the one seen from a distance. He also guessed that on entering the chamber, they would find it empty. Was the entire manor deserted? It seemed bizarre that, whatever Sir Edward Quiney had learned or even suspected, he would simply abandon his country seat, servants and all, and flee headlong. Men like him, in Marbeck's experience, usually stood upon their rank and status, demanding explanations for the intrusion. But then, this man's crimes were dark … dark enough, perhaps, to suspect he might struggle to find support anywhere.

After a while he dismounted, let Cobb's reins trail and walked towards what appeared to be the stables. Other soldiers were moving about, opening doors. The stables were closed and bolted, but Marbeck opened the door and was greeted by the snicker of horses. Finding a lantern, he struck a flame and lit it … and found two nags in their stalls, seemingly hungry and glad to see him.

There was a footfall behind; he turned to see the ensign looking in. ‘We've found something of interest,' he said.

Marbeck stiffened. ‘You've found John Buck?'

‘No, but we've found his wife. Will you come and see?'

‘I will,' Marbeck said at once … then he caught the man's expression, and stiffened.

‘That's right,' the ensign said. ‘She's dead.'

TWENTY

S
arah Buck had been strangled, her body clumsily concealed in a wash-house. And by the time morning broke, the extent of the disorder at Sir Edward Quiney's manor was clear. The knight had fled, taking his family and favoured servants with him, and left the rest to their fate.

Those that remained, afraid to come out when Niles's troop arrived, were found hiding in various places and brought out to the courtyard. They were mainly older servants, those with nowhere to go: a dozen at most, frightened and distraught. Having searched the entire manor, Niles was satisfied they were all that was left of Quiney's household; Marbeck, however, was not.

It was only instinct on his part, yet the feeling was strong. With the rest of Niles's force, he stood in the walled yard as the sun rose above the Downs, surveying the unhappy group. There was no danger; nor, it transpired, had there been all along. The soldiers were bitter, their captain subdued. Marbeck knew the man's frustration matched his own; and at the first opportunity he drew near to him and spoke.

‘I believe Buck's still here.'

Impatiently, Niles faced him. ‘We've scoured every corner. The only hiding place could be a priest's hole. The manor's old, so I suppose it's possible.'

‘Do I have your leave to poke about?'

‘If you must. I'm taking my men out soon …' The captain sighed. ‘There's nothing I can do here. We've looked for contraband, but there isn't any. Then, Quiney would never be foolish enough to hide it under his own roof.'

‘What will happen to these people?'

‘The servants?' Niles gave a shrug. ‘They've done nothing wrong that I know of … they'll have to fadge for themselves.'

Marbeck looked them over: a cowed and humble assembly. When asked about John Buck, they had claimed he was gone; as for Sarah Buck, none knew anything of her death. The Bucks were not members of the household, they said, and were not welcome when they'd arrived two days ago. The master had refused to see Buck, for some reason. Most of this information was obtained from Quiney's cook, a wizened man too old to run anywhere, and willing enough to talk about his master now that he'd fled.

Sarah Buck's body, swathed in linen, was now tied to a horse and would be conveyed to Weymouth where, it seemed, she had relatives. Niles was about to mount his horse, but at sight of Marbeck's face he frowned slightly. ‘I cannot delay,' he said. ‘Nor can I spare men for any further searching, which will likely prove fruitless.'

‘If I find Buck hiding …' Marbeck began – but Niles placed his foot in the stirrup and heaved himself into the saddle.

‘I didn't hear you,' he said.

A moment passed; their eyes met, and finally the captain leaned down and stuck out his bandaged hand. ‘I'll say farewell to you here and now … Master Janes,' he said quietly. ‘Don't grip me too hard.'

Marbeck hesitated, then took his hand. ‘You have my thanks.'

‘And you have mine, for what they're worth,' the captain replied. They loosed hands, and he straightened up. Then looking ahead, he shook the reins and led his company out through the gate. Marbeck watched them go, then glanced at the servants, who were already melting away.

Drawing a breath, he walked to the centre of the courtyard and stood still. He scanned the house and outbuildings; if there were a priest's hiding-hole, it could be almost anywhere. But Niles and his men had searched the house thoroughly … Then his gaze fell on the wash-house at the corner of the yard, where Sarah Buck's body had been found. On impulse, he walked towards it. It was low and solidly built, with a postern gate nearby leading to the gardens where the washer-woman would spread out her linen.

The door was ajar, so he entered the building and stood motionless. There was no sound save for a distant murmur of voices from the house, and birds cheeping on the roof. He looked round, at a huge buck-tub raised on bricks, and a few empty wash-baskets stacked beside the fireplace. The fireplace itself was large, though no fire had been lit in it for some time. He peered into it and around it, but saw only a solid chimney-breast. Finally he drew his poniard and knocked on the brickwork, satisfying himself there was no hollow space behind. He even put his ear to it, but heard nothing. Then he stood back, his eyes sweeping walls and ceiling. They were whitewashed, with a small window giving a meagre light. The roof-space was bare, with nothing between beams and thatch. He had seen hiding-holes in many places, a relic of the days, still recent, when priests travelled the land giving mass in the homes of Papist families, in constant fear of arrest. But a wash-house was an unusual location … In frustration he pushed the column of baskets aside – and froze.

BOOK: Marbeck and the Privateers
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