Sackett's Land (1974) (21 page)

Suddenly, we heard the faintest of sounds. Someone was coming along the bank just outside the clumps of willows, a bit higher up. It was someone who moved cautiously.

He appeared then, not far off, yet easily seen in the dim light. He paused, and I spoke.

"Ah?" It was Jublain. "I was sure you would be here." He came toward us through the trees. "The boat is tied to the bank not a cable-length from here. Should we be closer?"

"Yes. Corvino is on the boat?"

"Corvino and Sakim. Without Sakim we would not have made it so soon. He is a fine sailor, that one."

"Aye. Then leave him with the boat and do you and Corvino come with me."

"There is a landing below the house. Should we come there?"

"Aye, and soon. What is to be done must be done quickly, smoothly." For a moment I listened into the silence. "I will meet you at the landing. Come quickly."

He turned swiftly away and, with Jeremy following, I led my horse back through the woods. Soon the manor loomed above us, and we could see the gleam of water on our right and the gray of a path that led down to the landing. Good enough.

We tied our horses well back into the trees, and waited for Jublain and Corvino. I had no worries about Sakim. He was perhaps the wisest of us all, and would not be taken unawares. We went up the path in single file.

The night had grown increasingly dark. Stars gleamed above although there were a few drifting clouds. It was damp and still. Picking our way over the fallen stones and the remnants of a wall we found a door. It was closed and locked. When I felt of the lock my fingers came away with cobwebs. An unused door, evidently barred from within.

Moss covered the fallen stones, vines hung from the walls. We rounded the house by a faint path.

Jeremy put a hand on my arm. "I like none of it," he whispered. "The place smells of a trap."

"Aye, but we came to help the Earl. Trap or no trap, we shall do it.'

"There are the stables," Corvino whispered. "Do you wait now." He was gone in an instant, back as soon. "There is a carriage outside, and a dozen horses within. Several of them are still wet with sweat. They have been hard-ridden within the hour."

"A dozen? Perhaps four for the carriage, and eight for outriders or others. They are eight or nine. Perhaps ten."

"It is a goodly number," Ring suggested thoughtfully.

"Enough to go around. Come now, no jealousy! Each of you will have at least one, and two if you are lucky. Gentlemen, I think we are expected. Let us not keep them waiting. As my name is Barnabas Sackett, I hope that Rupert Genester is himself here."

We started forward, then I stopped. "Jeremy? Do you and Corvino mind? Jublain and I will enter alone. Do you follow us. In that way we may not all be trapped at once."

We went forward, up the few steps, and Jublain put a hand to the door. At my gesture, he opened it and I stepped inside. There had been no chain on the door, no bar. Truly, we were expected. Stepping inside, Jublain followed.

The great entranceway was dark and shadowed. Light showed beneath a door. I stepped quickly forward and in that instant the big door slammed behind us and torches flared into light.

We were in the center of a great hall and a dozen men stood about us, all with drawn swords.

One stepped slightly forward. "You do not disappoint me, Sackett. You come quickly to meet your death."

"Of course. Did you expect me to keep you waiting?"

"They've barred the door," Jublain said quietly.

"Aye, that makes it better. Not one of them shall escape us. And look, Jublain. The rascal with the beard. It is Nick Bardle himself, trying to patch up the mistakes he made."

A move, and my blade was drawn. "I hope the Earl is still alive? Or have you murdered him?"

Genester shrugged. "He will die ... Why hasten it? I want no marks uponhis body, but on yours--"

"Of course. Will you try to put them there yourself? Or will you sprawl in the mud again as you did in Stamford?"

His lips tightened with anger, and he took a half-step forward. I held my blade low, smiling at him. "You were a fit sight for a lady, sprawled in all your pretty silks in the mud! There was no occasion for it. The lady but asked for a drink."

"I shall kill you now," he said.

"Will you try it alone? Or leave it to this pack of dogs that follows you?"

Above me, faintly, I heard a scrape of something. A foot on stone? What was above? I dared not look up.

"Do not let him die too quickly," Genester said. "But die he must."

"And you, Rupert? Are you ready for the blade? I've chosen a resting place for it, right under that pretty little beard."

"Take him," he said, and turned indifferently away.

They moved, but I moved first. I was within a long blade's reach of the nearest man and, taking a quick step, I lunged just as his sword came up. There was a faint clang of steel, and my blade went past his and a hand's length into his chest.

His eyes stared at me down the length of the blade, the eyes of a man who would die. I withdrew swiftly and then Jublain shouted, "At them!" And then there was only the clang of swords, the whisper of clothing and the grunt and pant of men fighting.

From above there was a shrill yell, then down a rope came Corvino, and then Jeremy.

A man rushed at me, swinging a cutlass, a wide sweep with a blade that might have been effective in a boarding operation. But not here. My blade was down and I cut swiftly upward. The blade slit through his shirt front and parted his chin--the very stroke I had planned for Genester himself.

At least two were down. I felt a blade nick my arm, the rip of my shirt. It was close, deadly fighting, with no time for fancy work here. I thrust, slashed, thrust again, moving always.

Corvino was down ... no, up again. There was blood on his shirt. The torchlight wavered and shadowed and unshadowed us. Faces gleamed with sweat. It was wild, desperate, bitter fighting this.

A tall man lunged at me. I parried and he came in with his thrust and we were face to face, our swords locked tightly. It was Darkling.

My left fist came up quickly in a smashing blow to his belly and he gasped and stepped back. I followed him in, keeping our swords locked, and hit him again ... my attack totally unexpected.

Darkling fell back again, disengaged and tried to come into position. But my own blade was far forward and, without drawing it back, I turned quickly left and cut across his face under his nose, then right, and under his eyes. Neither was deep, both were bloody. He fell back, shocked, and I let him go.

A blade ripped my shirt again and then we were forced into a corner, Jublain and I. Corvino was down or gone. Jeremy was waging a desperate fight with three men, his blade dancing, gleaming, thrusting. One man fell back with a cry, and Jeremy dropped quickly to one knee--or almost there--with a sweeping blow at the next man's legs. Killing him as well.

Suddenly there was a banging upon the door, a shout, and Jeremy skipped quickly to one side and, fencing adroitly to hold the man off, managed to flip the bar from the door. Instantly it crashed open.

Captain Tempany! And with him four men!

Suddenly there was a break for the door, and desperate fighting there. Leaping across a body I raced up the steps to the door through which Genester had gone.

I shoved the door slowly inward and a pistol coughed hoarsely in the small confines of the room. Leaping through the door, sword in hand, I saw Rupert Genester just beyond.

The Earl--at least I supposed him to be--sat up in bed, a woman standing near him, her face pale and angry. Genester threw the now empty pistol at my head and then ran around the end of the bed to come at me.

He was facing me, a desperate man. His face was pale, his eyes very bright and hard. There was no coward in the man, for all I disliked him. His blade was up and he was ready.

Though I had out-maneuvered him often, Genester faced me squarely. "Even if you live to tell it," he said, "they'll not believe you. I will declare that you killed the Earl."

"But he is not dead!" I said. "I--"

His sword was down by his side in his right hand. Suddenly his left held a dagger, and he lifted it to stab down at the old man who lay beside him. His left fist gripping the dagger swung up and back.

I lunged.

The point of my blade took him at mid-chest and thrust toward his left side.

His arm was caught in movement, and my blade sank deep. He turned his head and looked at me, his eyes wide, lips bloodless. "Damn you!" he gasped. "I should have--"

I lowered my point and he slid off it to the floor, blood all about him, his fingers loosening on the dagger. The dagger clattered to the floor.

"Your pardon, Excellency," I said, "forgive this intrusion, but ... my name is Barnabas Sackett."

"I know who you are," the old man's voice rumbled like a far off thunder in the small room. "And you are your father's son.

"By the Lord," he said, sitting a little straighter, "as neat a bit of action as ever I saw!"

Suddenly, I realized that Nick Bardle was gone ... I'd forgotten him.

Gone! I started after him but the old man lifted a hand. "Let him go," he said, "and open the door before they burst it."

The door opened again. Jublain was the first through, sword in hand, then Jeremy Ring and Sakim. Following was Captain Tempany.

Tempany went to him quickly. "How are you, Sir Robert? You're unhurt?"

"I am not hurt," Sir Robert said flatly, "but I've been damnably ill, and if it had not been for Gerta here, who would not be left behind, I'd be dead. Dead and gone. Now get me out of here."

"We've only horses," Tempany protested.

"I've a boat," I said. "Sakim? Can we make Sir Robert comfortable?"

"Of course."

Sir Robert glared at him. "Moor, aren't you? Well, I've crossed swords with a few of your kind."

Sakim smiled, showing his white, even teeth. "I am glad it was not with me, Sir Robert."

The Earl glared, then chuckled. "So am I, so am I. Make a litter, Tempany, and get me out of here. I despise the place."

Chapter
21

Sir Robert sat propped with pillows in the great bed in his town house. Scarce two weeks had passed since the affair in the manor, but the time for decision had come.

Captain Brian Tempany was there, with Abigail. She sat demurely, her hands in her lap.

"I have talked to him, talked like a Dutch uncle, but he will not listen."

Sir Robert eyed me coldly. "His father was a pigheaded man, too." He said, and then added, "Thank God for it. He never knew when he was whipped ... So he never was."

"It is not that I do not appreciate the offer," I assured him, "but I was born to action. It is not my way to sit contemplating the deeds of others, nor to fatten on wealth not gained by my own hands. There's a vast land yonder, and my destiny lies there. My own destiny, and that of my family."

"This family you speak of," Sir Robert asked gruffly, "is something of which I have not heard. You are a wedded man?"

"I am not."

"Then you have no family?"

"I do not. I have only the knowledge that someday I will and that I want them in a land where they may have elbow room. I want my sons to grow tall in freedom, to grow where they may stretch and move and go as far and do as much as their talents and strength will permit. I do not want them hamstrung by privilege nor class."

"You disapprove of England?"

"I do not. Opportunity here is great if a man has energy, but there are restrictions, and I chafe under restriction."

"You must go to America?"

"I must. It is a vast land, every inch of it rich with opportunity. I would go there and build my own place, my own life."

"I will speak to Sir Walter."

"No, Sir Robert. I do not wish that restriction, either. I will go alone ... Or with those few who would go with me."

Sir Robert glared at me, then glanced at Abigail. "This family you speak of? Where will you find a woman who will leave England for such a wild place? No fine clothes? No dancing, no fine homes? No luxuries? Are there any such?"

"I have reason to believe there are," I said hesitantly. "But first I wish to prepare a place ... a home. I can do it there."

Abigail looked up. "And in the meantime, Barnabas?"

I flushed. "Well, I--"

She looked at me coolly, directly--the look she had given me that first night when she invited me in. "If you know such a girl, I would suggest that you permit her to choose where her home will be. If you find such a girl at all, I imagine she would prefer to be at your side."

"There are savages."

"I presume."

"There are no houses, only caves, and bark shelters."

"I expect that is so."

"I could not ask any--"

"You assume such a girl would have less courage than you? Less fortitude? You do not understand my sex, Barnabas."