The Prisoner's Dilemma (21 page)

‘No, I would rather that she wasn't interrupted in her duties. She is painfully shy and should not be troubled.'

L'Arquen looked at Dunbeath doubtfully.

‘Nonetheless, I would like to talk to her.'

This was the last straw. Dunbeath's temper gave out.

‘Am I not master in my own house, L'Arquen?' The earl had begun to speak in an irritated tone but this had quickly progressed to shouting. Now he was yelling, all restraint gone.

‘I have told you not to trouble her. You have come here unannounced, uninvited, abusing my country and now you demand to speak to my servants. It is intolerable, L'Arquen, intolerable do you hear!'

There was a silence while L'Arquen coolly gazed back at Dunbeath, one eyebrow lazily cocked. Then he spoke in a quiet and level voice.

‘I must apologise, my lord. I was quite forgetting my manners and assuming I was among friends. Of course, I shall leave you all in peace. A peace I sincerely hope will not be broken.'

He bowed to Dunbeath, said ‘Mr Hume' in a respectful tone and turned to leave.

He had taken a pace or two towards the door when he suddenly swung back. He touched his forehead as a tutor might to the slowest of his charges.

‘I almost forgot. One last thing. There's a man sitting on the dunes outside the castle. He's been there for three days. I wondered if you knew who he was? My major tells me that you spoke with him yesterday.'

‘What?' snapped Dunbeath, testily. ‘That man? He is just a nothing, a ruffian. He followed the maid you saw here from Inverness and is obsessed with her. She's refusing to return his attentions. I told him to go away but you know what notions get into the heads of these lovers.'

‘Indeed I do,' laughed Larken archly, ‘but my men also told me you held a pistol to his head two weeks ago. I'm impressed you should be so solicitous of your servants that you've become involved in a lovers' tiff.'

At this Dunbeath took a step towards L'Arquen and looked at him very darkly.

‘What is this? You mean you've been spying on me? How
dare you, L'Arquen. I take this information very ill.'

‘Of course, of course,' said L'Arquen with a complete lack of concern. ‘I quite understand. I shall go now. But I hope that if you should hear any more about the rebels, you'll keep me informed.'

L'Arquen left and hurried down the great staircase. He pulled on his gloves as he went, his face clouded with anger. He emerged into the morning sunshine and strode fiercely over to where a trooper held his horse, waiting to help him mount. He settled in the saddle but, as he turned the animal's head, he looked down the beach to where Zweig sat motionless on the peninsular of the nearest dune, apparently unaware of the troop's presence.

They set off towards the turnpike, Sharrocks riding alongside him. L'Arquen glanced over.

‘There is much amiss here, Sharrocks. I have been lied to. Keep your surveillance up, I rather think something will be happening soon.' He shook the reins, then added, ‘…and let the messenger bring his letter now. That will shake things up.'

* * * 

As soon as the troop had ridden off, Dunbeath, Hume and Sophie gathered together in the salon to discuss L'Arquen's visit. Hume was very agitated that Dunbeath had lied so openly.

‘But Mr Hume,' said Dunbeath sharply, ‘if that man had spoken to Sophie he'd have heard her German accent immediately. He seemed less of a fool than his father and he clearly knew that the ship had come from Königsberg. If he'd put two and two together and taken her into Craigleven for questioning, she'd be on a gallows somewhere before the month is out. She has not asked to be caught up in our wars. Now, that is an end to it.'

‘You may be right about that Dunbeath, but why on earth did you say that the man on the dunes was from Inverness?'

Dunbeath gave a slight shudder. God knows how the German
captain had found out about his little experiment with the two boys. Still, he had, and Dunbeath knew he couldn't take the risk of him talking to L'Arquen about it. He thought he'd never met a pair of viler men. Nothing would give them greater pleasure than to invent trouble for him.

Dunbeath darkened as he thought of how to steer Hume away from the dangerous subject.

‘Mr Hume, the colonel's manner convinced me more than ever that war is inevitable. Even if Prince Charles Edward chooses not to land that man would invent a reason to kill as many of us as he could find. What was your view, Sophie? Was he what you would call a co-operator? I think not. So, our ship's captain may be of more use to us alive than dead. There is an old saying that my enemy's enemy is my friend and I believe this might possibly be the case here. The captain is of no use to us in the hands of the English and he would certainly place Sophie's life in much danger if he was.'

‘Nonetheless,' said Sophie, ‘it was an opportunity to be rid of him. Perhaps this might have been the one time not to have remained silent.'

There was an awkward pause and Dunbeath quickly filled it with a false show of enforced humour, laughing off their anxieties.

‘You are not to be concerned about the intelligence of English army officers. And anyway, if by any chance Colonel L'Arquen cares to think of us again, I shall simply say there was a misunderstanding. What crime is there in being wrong? You have changed me, Sophie,' he continued lightly, ‘I would be happy to say I was wrong. Now, we still have work to do, we must make some final changes to the presentation for the Board.'

He gave a final, forced smile and swept from the room. As he did so, Hume and Sophie exchanged a dark glance, each as worried as the other at the new turn of events.

* * * 

Zweig's head had cleared entirely. He was now thinking more sharply than ever. Although his fixed gaze had not wavered when he'd seen the soldiers arrive, the officer's manner when he had emerged from the castle had told its own story.

Hold fast, he thought to himself yet again. Something was about to unfold. He had never been more certain of anything in his life.

Less than an hour after L'Arquen had allowed him to leave Craigleven, the messenger had secured his horse at the castle's entrance and was explaining his business to Annie. She'd heard him out and then immediately led him up the great staircase to where Dunbeath was sitting with Hume and Sophie in the long dining room, a sparse luncheon on the table in front of them. As soon as Dunbeath saw the letter in the man's hand he jumped to his feet.

‘Ah, at last! That must be Morton writing to me.'

He broke open the seal and glanced at the signature at the bottom of the page.

‘Yes, it's Morton. He writes to say that the Board of Longitude is sitting on …' he stopped and stared at the page in disbelief ‘…what! It can't be. May 9 – but that's just seven days away!'

Sophie rose quickly and went over to look at the open sheet in Dunbeath's shaking hands.

‘Oh my God, Sophie, look!' he shrieked. ‘The letter was sent over a month ago. Why has it taken so long to get here?'

He turned in a fury towards the messenger.

‘How long have you had this? Where have you been all this time?'

‘The letter only came to us two weeks ago, my lord. No doubt the rest of the time was spent getting it to Edinburgh from London. As for me, I left immediately I could and have been struggling for every foot of the way with the English army stopping me ever since. The roads are in uproar, sir, the army has checkpoints everywhere. My papers have been taken from me and studied two dozen times or more.'

‘I'm not surprised to hear this,' Hume called over from the table, ‘I had the same treatment when I came up from Edinburgh myself.'

‘But how am I to get to London in time for the meeting?' cried
Dunbeath as he heard this. ‘Sophie, Sophie, what am I to do?'

Sophie turned her anguished face towards Dunbeath. She was at a loss to know how to reply but the silence was broken by the messenger giving a meaningful cough.

‘My lord, perhaps I could be so bold as to suggest a way through? The last place I was detained was at the garrison just a few miles south of here, Craigleven. The officers there took pity on me and wrote me a pass I can show when I'm stopped on the way back. They said it would see me through roadblocks without hinder.'

Dunbeath turned to Sophie with a cry of sudden hope.

‘Then, that's what I must get as well! I must see L'Arquen at once. I shall need safe passage papers or I'll never get to London in time. As it is I shall be riding day and night with the devil behind me. Come and help me saddle the horse.'

He went to the door and shouted for his housekeeper.

‘Annie, Annie! Help us here!'

Dunbeath gave a final grunt of frustrated rage and ran towards the stairs, Sophie following behind. Hume stayed in his place. He pulled his napkin from the collar of his red coat and looked up towards the messenger with a plaintive smile.

‘I wonder if you would be good enough to deliver a letter for me when you return to Edinburgh?'

* * * 

Half an hour later, Dunbeath was hurtling through Craigleven's great staterooms, a trooper padding unhappily along beside him. He reached the final door and dismissed the guard there with an imperious wave of his hand, then swept into L'Arquen's study without a knock, the heavy red of his complexion showing the speed of his journey as well as the obvious agitation that was always so near the surface in him. He careered across the floor towards L'Arquen's desk as the colonel looked up at the
explosive sound of his entrance. L'Arquen rose to his feet and waved away the complaining trooper that had tried to stop Dunbeath, a contented smile playing on his lips.

‘Why, Lord Dunbeath. We meet again. Twice in so many hours, you honour me. But what can I do for you? You seemed distressed by something.'

‘Now see here, L'Arquen, an urgent letter has just come telling me I have to be in London. But your army interrogations have held it up abominably and I now have only a week to get there. It's a matter of the greatest importance to me, the annual meeting of the Board of Longitude. If I miss it my life's work is at stake.'

‘Indeed, my lord,' said L'Arquen in the gravest tone of mock concern, ‘that is indeed unfortunate. The antics of your countrymen seem to have conspired against you. The confusion on the roads is slowing everything. Indeed, we are all suffering at present, my laundry is taking weeks to come back from Buckinghamshire. You have my deepest sympathies.'

‘L'Arquen, you must listen! I can still be there in time if you would only give me a letter of passage. The Board sits on the ninth. That's in seven days time. I can ride every hour that's available if I have to. The messenger told me you had written such a letter for him. I have to get to London! There isn't a moment to lose. Can you not write me one now?'

L'Arquen's eyes travelled to his desk, where papers spilled over the surface. He spread his arms sideways as if to show the sheer volume of the problem.

‘I fear not, my lord,' he said in a low, sad tone. ‘How I would like to help you. I gave a pass to the messenger because he's just a nobody that will get his backside warmed by his master if he's any later than he already is. But my orders are to restrict the movements of all clan leaders until we can clear up the problems of these ridiculous highlanders and their muddle-headed ideas. Our intelligence is that Prince Charles Edward is calling for the
clans to join him and obviously we have to put a stop to any movement by their chiefs.'

‘But you must help me, L'Arquen, you must,' Dunbeath ground out, still at pains to keep his temper, ‘I know nothing about this uprising. I appeal to you to help – I can win the Longitude Prize at this meeting.'

‘If only I could,' murmured L'Arquen with a sad shake of his head. ‘I know, I know, you find it odd that I could give safe passage to a mere messenger and not to you. What a strange game life is sometimes, eh? You'd think a man as distinguished as yourself would be freer to come and go than the lower orders. But with great position comes great duty, I'm afraid. We like to think we're free but it always seems that others are controlling us. But who are these ‘others', I wonder? Are they any freer than us? Or do they have ‘others' that control them also? Perhaps you'd like to ask your friend Hume about that?'

Dunbeath continued to rail at him but L'Arquen came smoothly around his desk and took the earl firmly by the arm. He steered him towards the door.

‘I am sorry, Lord Dunbeath, but I'm afraid I must return to my duties. We are all of us trapped by this Bonnie Prince Charlie fellow of yours, aren't we? I, as much as you. Well, goodbye for now, and please give my regards to Mr Hume. And, of course,' he added with a sickly smile, ‘your maid from Inverness.'

He stood at the door watching as Dunbeath strode furiously back down the series of great staterooms. A satisfied smile tugged at his mouth, but, once he'd seen Dunbeath turn the far corner, his expression faded and he spun round to scowl at his guard.

‘Harken,' he whispered. ‘If you ever let anyone into my room again without my permission you will find yourself in the interview room with Trooper Williams. You know how he enjoys his work, don't you? That was the Earl of Dunbeath and if you see him try to gain entry in that manner again you are to shoot him.
Do you understand? Now, find Major Sharrocks and tell him I want him here immediately.'

* * * 

Sophie stood looking down at Zweig from the side window of the great salon. She knew better than to be seen by getting too close to the glass and she held well back in the shadows, studying him as he sat so alertly on the beach.

Yet again she wondered how he could keep going, her anxiety mingled with a grudging admiration. She thought he seemed fresher than she was. He'd never moved and yet he'd got them all jumping around in the castle, talking and thinking about nothing else but him. How would all this end? She looked again at the firmness of his expression. Great heavens, what a will this man had.

* * * 

As Major Sharrocks came into the room L'Arquen waved to him to stand by the desk.

‘I have just seen Lord Dunbeath. He came here a few minutes ago, barking and pawing like a wild dog about getting to London. I refused him safe passage, of course.'

Sharrocks nodded.

‘Very good, sir.'

‘Now, I have received reports of rebels gathering near the place where you picked that one up the other day. Lanochburn, I believe. You need to step up your patrols there. How many men have you still got at Dunbeaton?'

‘Just two, sir, one watching the village and one the castle.'

‘Well get them back. I have Dunbeath bottled up now, he cannot move. In which case you're spending too much time on your amusement at the Castle of Beath - the troopers are wasted
there. They've been lying about in the grass for far too long and you've had enough time on this snooping idea of yours, Sharrocks. Now I want them – and you – out picking up more of these damned highlanders. Eventually we shall find one who's helpful.'

* * * 

Sophie and Hume were sitting next to each other on a gilt sofa, their heads huddled over Sophie's workings on the Dilemma. Hume was about to murmur an interpretation to one of her findings when Dunbeath came running up the stairs and hurtled into the great salon.

‘L'Arquen refused me!' he shouted. ‘Said no movement was allowed by the clan chiefs. God, what a liar. He was never more pleased; smirking away at me that he wished he could help. What am I to do, Hume, what am I to do? If I rode without ever stopping across country and somehow avoided every road and every checkpoint, I still wouldn't get half way to London by the ninth.'

Dunbeath stopped his furious rant and instead began to frantically pace the room. Hume quietly stroked the braid decoration at his wrist.

‘Forgive me if this is an absurd notion, Dunbeath, but would it not be possible for you to sail down to London by sea? Could that not be done in the time?'

Dunbeath stopped and looked at him.

‘I had the same thought myself. But who could ever take me? My father's old helmsman is long gone. I don't know how to sail. None of the fishermen around here would know the way – there's hardly one of them that's ever gone beyond the headland. And anyway, they wouldn't know the Thames from the Styx.'

Hume paused and then quietly took a deep breath.

‘Perhaps our captain there could be persuaded? He must have
sailed to London a hundred times – he would know the approaches.'

Dunbeath came to an abrupt standstill. He looked steadily at Hume, amazed at the suggestion. Nevertheless, it was clear that he was weighing up the idea. He rejected it. Then a picture of L'Arquen's grinning insincerity came into his mind.

‘By God, Hume,' he said decisively, ‘you may just be right. I dare say there will be a terrible price to pay but what other chance do I have? You are right, I shall see the man at once.'

* * * 

Dunbeath ran down the stone steps by the side of the castle and out onto the beach. He tried to slow his pace, knowing that a difficult negotiation was ahead of him, but in spite of this, he could do little to disguise the urgency that showed in his every movement. Zweig saw him as he hurtled over the sands and rose easily to his feet. He could see immediately that Dunbeath's manner was quite different. That he was about to ask for something.

‘My lord?' said Zweig with interest. ‘Good afternoon to you.'

Dunbeath had reached the captain and now stood facing him, suddenly unable to speak, choking on his pride, finding it impossible to choose the right words. Zweig waited patiently and smiled back in encouragement.

Eventually, Dunbeath appeared to sit on his discomfort for long enough to talk.

‘Captain Zweig. I have a proposition for you.'

‘Indeed. I should be pleased to hear it.'

‘I have great need to be in London with all speed. There is not a moment to be lost. I must be there in six days at the latest – I have a vital meeting to attend. Is that possible? Can you sail me there in time? I presume you know the approaches – can you navigate the Thames?'

‘Of course, my lord,' said Zweig pleasantly. ‘As to the journey, that would depend on the craft. But what is your proposal to me?'

Dunbeath gazed steadily at him, swallowing hard as he summoned up the will to be a supplicant.

‘I have a boat moored at Dunbeaton. What the Dutch call a jacht. I imagine it is still there. My father would use it to see our lands on the Dark Isles and he always said it was a speedy thing. Now, Zweig, if you would sail me to London so that I can attend the meeting of the Board of Longitude and then bring me back safely, then I shall…' Dunbeath paused, hardly able to lower himself to bargain in this way.

‘Yes, my lord, you will what?'

‘I shall give you the boat. To return to Königsberg.'

Zweig looked at Dunbeath for a few seconds before he gave a courteous bow.

‘I am most grateful for your kind offer, but I regret I must refuse. As you know, my lord …' he smiled as he spoke, slowly laying out his trump card, ‘…my aim is to return Miss Kant to our homeland …' In an instant he had weighed up Dunbeath's personality well enough to add the one thing that he knew would be understood the best, and would sting Dunbeath the most.

‘…to clear the debt owed to me by her father.'

Dunbeath struggled to suppress his rage as he heard Zweig say this.

‘Sophie will not be returning with you,' he ground out in reply, ‘she will be staying here. She has agreed to that. You will not have her.'

Zweig put his head slightly to one side but continued to nod gently, as if in agreement.

Sophie? Now it's Sophie rather than Miss Kant, he thought to himself. Here was a place to stand. He bowed again.

‘Then, my lord, without Miss Kant, and without the debt repaid, I'm afraid I have no option but to refuse your kind offer.'