‘It’s the same with me,’ said Daniel, wistfully. ‘Because of my commitments here, my letters to Amsterdam are few and far between. Whenever I write one, however, I console myself with the knowledge that Amalia is out of harm’s way.’
Respected by his men as a brilliant soldier, Vendome liked to review his troops at regular intervals. Simultaneously, it fed his sense of importance and kept the men on their toes. As he watched them march past in serried ranks, he was pleased with what he saw. Even though many new recruits were on display, the soldiers were well drilled and primed for action. When the parade was finally over, he turned round to find Valeran waiting patiently for him. The lieutenant offered him a letter.
‘We have the answer you wanted, Your Grace,’ he said.
‘Excellent,’ replied Vendome, taking it from him.
‘I had it decoded for you.’
‘Well done, Raoul. Let’s see what we’ve discovered about the gallant Captain Rawson, shall we?’ As he read the letter, he smiled. ‘So his weakness has a name, does she? All we need to do now is to put a face to that name.’ His smile broadened into a grin. ‘I look forward to meeting Amalia Janssen.’
CHAPTER NINE
It was a long ride and they didn’t reach their destination until evening shadows were lengthening. Waiting under cover of some trees, they watched until the farmyard was completely deserted. Through the open shutters, they could see candles burning.
Edwin Lock was impatient. He grabbed his cousin’s arm.
‘Let’s go, Matt,’ he urged.
‘It’s too early,’ decreed Searle.
‘But they’ll be eating their supper now. They’ll be off guard. Those four men left ages ago. We’ll soon deal with the ones still there. Then we can help ourselves to the women.’
‘I want the fat one,’ said Gregory Pyle, almost dribbling. ‘I saw her coming out of the byre with a pail of milk. She’s mine — I like plenty to hold on to.’
‘You’ll do as you’re told,’ cautioned Searle.
‘But you promised, Matt.’
‘All I promised was that you’d get your turn.’
‘Then I want it with that fat milkmaid.’
‘This is not a common whorehouse, Gregory. You can’t pick and choose. We have to kill the men, grab what we want then get out of there as quickly as possible.’
‘What about me?’ asked Lock.
‘You set fire to the barn.’
His cousin pulled a face. ‘I did that last time.’
‘Then we know we can rely on you,’ said Searle. ‘When you’ve got a good blaze going, you check to see what livestock is worth rustling. They’ve still got some pigs left. We’ll have to slaughter them first. That’s another job for you, Edwin. The next thing we need is one of their horses. Hugh can take care of that. Tie the dead pigs together and sling them across the horse’s back.’
‘And where will you be all this time, Matt?’
‘Inside one of the women like me,’ said Pyle, sniggering.
‘You’ll obey orders,’ Searle told him, ‘or you’ll end up like Ianto Morgan. Each one of us must have a particular job and make sure we do it quickly. Edwin and Hugh know what they have to do — now for the rest of you.’
Searle had planned the attack in advance. He gave his men their orders and reminded them that the village was only two miles away. When the fire was at its height, it would be seen from a long distance and help would soon arrive. They had to be well clear before anyone came galloping out from the village. Searle was wearing the uniform of a lieutenant in the dragoons. Like the ones donned by his men, it had been stolen from a corpse left behind after a skirmish. He ran a finger around the inside of the collar.
‘I don’t know how anyone managed to wear this,’ he complained. ‘It’s so tight, it’s almost strangling me.’
‘You’ve been demoted, Matt,’ said Hugh Davey.
‘What are you on about?’
‘Last time you were a captain in the British army.’
Searle grinned. ‘Yes…that uniform could have been made for me. I know what it feels like to be an officer now.’
‘I hate officers,’ said Davey. ‘All they do is piss on the likes of us. I wasn’t putting up with it any more.’
‘That’s why you joined me, Hugh,’ said Searle. ‘I may make the decisions about where we strike but we have equal shares after that. Whatever the haul tonight, we’ll all get the same amount.’
Lock grinned. ‘That goes for the women as well.’
There was general laughter. They carried on bantering until the shutters were eventually closed and the occupants of the house had all rolled off to bed. At a signal from Searle, they came out of hiding and trotted towards the farm. Dismounting well before they actually reached it, they led their horses forward then tethered them to some bushes. They had an array of weapons, mostly filched from dead French soldiers. Some had pistols, others had muskets and a couple of them preferred daggers. When they reached the farmhouse, Searle waved them to their positions. Lock and Davey stayed outside while three of them went to the rear entrance of the building. Searle led two of the others to the front.
Using the element of surprise, they suddenly forced their way in and went charging upstairs, flinging open the doors of the bedrooms without ceremony. One of the farmer’s sons was shot dead but another was only wounded and leapt naked from the bed to grapple with his attacker. A third son was stabbed to death but the farmer himself was unharmed. When Gregory Pyle fired a musket at him in the dark, he killed the man’s wife instead and found himself wrestled to the floor. The other women screamed at the top of their voices.
Searle took it upon himself to finish off the two male victims still alive, cutting the throat of the one who’d been wounded so that his own man was released. Though he repeatedly stabbed the enraged farmer who was on top of Pyle, he was too late to save his friend from having the life strangled out of him. With their bloodlust sated, three of the other raiders chose a woman apiece and hurled them down onto their respective beds. Searle, meanwhile, hurried downstairs again, lighting a candle before searching for the place where the money was kept. Outside in the yard, Lock had set the barn ablaze and was trying to catch one of the squealing pigs in the sty. The creature kept slipping from his grasp and Lock had difficulty staying on his feet in the slimy, dung-covered sty. Davey harnessed one of the animals in the stables and brought it out to act as a packhorse.
Things were not going well. On their previous raids, there’d been little resistance. The men were killed instantly and the women ravished. This time they had casualties. Pyle was dead and Regan, the man who’d grappled with the wounded son of the farmer, was badly bruised. When he tried to overpower one of the women, she fought back so hard that he could not subdue her. Searle was having no success downstairs. Though he searched every nook and cranny, he could find neither money nor any other valuables. He dashed back upstairs to continue the search there, using the candle to illumine each room and going past beds on which frantic women were trying to push their attackers away. None was submitting without a fight, shrieking, biting and using their nails to scratch.
Through a gap in the shutters, Searle could see the flames from the barn as the fire really got a purchase. It would soon be spotted by someone in the village. Flying into a panic, his search became even more frenzied. He ran into the main bedchamber, stepped over the corpses of Gregory Pyle and the farmer then flung open the door of the little wardrobe. Nothing of value was in it or in the wooden chest under the window. Searle even dragged the dead body of the farmer’s wife off the bed so that he could lift up the mattress. No money was hidden beneath it. Panic mounting, he searched every inch of the room but to no avail. In his frustration, he kicked the farmer hard and swore under his breath. Then he used the candle to set light to anything that would burn.