Monmouth would quickly see how the battle was going and he, so the story went, slipped away before the end. That might have been slander from his enemies, but we did know that he was found cowering in a ditch, covered in ferns when he was captured, and that he was taken to London where he begged his uncle to see him that he might crave his forgiveness.
He found his uncle less lenient than his father had always been.
Monmouth's dreams were over. Fourteen days after he had arrived in England to claim the throne, he lost his head on Tower Hill.
We were living in a nightmare. I was filled with dread. The Battle of Sedgemoor was lost and men who had escaped from the battlefield were wandering around the country, seeking shelter—the fugitives from the defeated army. They were not to be allowed to shrug off their misdeeds, their treason, as the victorious side were calling it. Men could not behave so and then act as though it were of no moment. The country had to be shown that treasonable acts were given the treatment they deserved.
Kirk and Luke were in my thoughts all the time. I dreamed of them. Where were they? If they had escaped, they would come to us, surely. But where were they?
A whole day and night had passed since the battle and there was no sign of them. I greatly feared that I should never see them again. My dear brother, who had had such ambitious dreams ... wild dreams that could never come true without a miracle. And Kirk ... Kirk. I had not known how much I loved him until now.
I tried to imagine life without him. I thought of his tender looks for me, his kindness, his tolerance. Why had he gone into this wild adventure? I knew why Luke had. I could follow his way of thinking completely. But Kirk? He was no ardent fanatic, no fervent supporter of the Protestant Faith or hater of Catholics. He believed in freedom of worship for all. But he had believed that England would never support a Catholic King, and that there would be trouble for the country—and that meant for us all—if Catholic James remained on the throne. He was right: James's reign would be an unhappy one. But Monmouth! He was nothing but a boy playing at being a great warrior throughout his entire career, who had shown his weakness.
It was dusk. I went to my room. I sat down and my thoughts were on the battlefield.
Kirk ... Luke ... where are you? I was thinking over and over again.
There was a knocking at my door.
It v,^s Amy, wild-eyed and tearful.
"What is it?" I cried.
"Oh, Mistress Kate, he be down below. He's hiding out. Scared out of his wits, he be. Wants to see ye. He's out there by the shrubbery."
"W^ho? Who?"
"Tom Ricks, Mistress."
I was speeding across the grass to the shrubbery.
"Tom!" I cried.
" Tis I, Mistress. I have to see you. I was with him. Mistress. He said to tell you and give this to you ... if I got away."
He put a ring into my hand. I knew it well. It was gold and Luke had treasured it. He had told me it was the ring our father had given his mother. He had always worn it.
"He was hurt bad. Mistress. In the chest, it was. He couldn't speak much, but he weren't in pain. Well, not much anyway. He knew he was going, and he spoke of you. He wanted me to bring this ring to you if I were able ... so you'd know it was certain, like."
I heard myself murmuring: "Luke ... brother Luke. Oh no, not like this!"
" 'Twere so. Mistress. I were right beside him. Might have had it myself. A miracle I didn't. When he gave me the ring, he just closed his eyes. I stayed with him for a bit ... then I had to go. They say they're looking for us. I've got to hide myself. Mistress."
"Oh, Tom," I said. "Take care."
"Right sure I will, Mistress. They say terrible things will happen to them who fought on Sedgemoor for him that lost."
"Oh, Tom. Get away, then."
"This'll be the first place they'll come looking. There was more than one from these parts as was there. Fm going to my uncle's over Taunton way."
"Oh, Tom. Good luck ... and thank you."
I watched him disappear in the darkness. I was too shocked and bewildered to do anything but go to my room. Heavy-hearted and desperately afraid, I sat through the night.
In the morning I heard that the supporters of Monmouth who had not been captured on the battlefield were being rounded up. Tom Ricks had been caught on the way to Taunton and was now lying in Bridgwater jail.
Luke was dead. My brother, so full of life one day and then no more. All his dreams of one day being Lord of Rosslyn Manor, gone forever. And all for the ambitions of a King's bastard son! How our lives were governed by the acts of others. But for Monmouth's ambitions, we all would have been congregating in Christobel's sitting room, talking, talking ...
And Kirk ... where was Kirk? I greatly feared that he was one of the thousand slaughtered on that fatal battlefield. I would never go near Sedgemoor again. Never, I told myself.
If only I knew! Was it better to know the worst, or go on in suspense, hoping, hoping? And as time passed those hopes became more unlikely of being fulfilled.
There was a gloom on us all. Luke's death had sobered us.
"How I wish we could have news of Kirk," said James. "This is dreadful for Christobel ... and at such a time."
Sebastian was gentle and tender. He really seemed to care. He was more serious than I had ever seen him before.
My thoughts were for Kirk. I pictured him lying dead on that battlefield ... perhaps so badly wounded as to be unrecognizable. Where was he? My mind went back to that time when we had hidden him in the Devil's Tower. He had been in acute danger then.
"Oh, God," I prayed. "Let me know where he is."
If he were dead I should never know the details. There were so many dead. It was just by chance that Tom Ricks had happened to be near Luke when he had died. But no one had any news of Kirk.
I wondered after whether my prayers were answered, or was it because Kirk and I were so close that there was some communication of the mind between us. But I could not stop the memories of that other occasion from returning to my mind. It seemed—or so I thought afterwards—that something, some secret force, was urging me to go to the Devil's Tower.
It was two days after the Battle of Sedgemoor that I went.
It was a hot afternoon. There was no wind and stillness was everywhere. I went through the trees and there it was ... grim, forbidding, haunted.
I felt a certain excitement. I felt that Kirk was close and where could he be but in the Tower? He was a fugitive, as so many were, and where else would he think to hide himself but in the place he knew so well, because he had been there before?
It may sound ridiculous, but I knew I was going to find Kirk in this place.
I pushed open the heavy door. I went up the spiral staircase. I made my way to that room which I had visited so often during that other time, when Titus Oates's men were in the neighborhood.
I pushed open the heavy door.
Kirk was standing there, sword drawn, waiting.
"Kate!" he cried.
I heard the sword clatter on the stone floor, and I was in his arms.
"Oh, Kate," he said. "I hoped you'd come."
"It's a miracle. I knew I'd find you here. I knew it, I knew.''
"I wanted it to be you so much ... I heard the steps on the stairs, and I was afraid it was someone else."
"Kirk, Kirk. What has happened?"
"You know we lost?"
I nodded.
"We had no chance against them. It was all in vain."
"Tell me, please, quickly. How long have you been here?"