‘He looked that way at me as well.’
‘The man is so revolting.’
Since they supported opposing sides in the war, they were unlikely friends but adversity made light of their differences. They were both victims and their fate would be determined by a man they’d both detested on sight. Amalia was glad to have company. In talking about her situation, she’d gained a small measure of relief. Listening to Sophie, she realised that they lived in very different worlds. The other woman seemed so much more sophisticated and her beautiful dress made Amalia feel dowdy. Sophie’s father was a wealthy merchant who was away from home a great deal. His daughter was bored and restless. When invited to dine at her uncle’s house in Mons, she’d accepted with alacrity and revelled in the company of soldiers. It was there that she met the man who’d brought her to the camp under false pretences.
‘Isn’t it strange?’ said Sophie, musing.
‘I don’t follow.’
‘Well, by rights, we ought to be trying to tear each other’s hair out. You support one army and I’m loyal to another. In my heart, I want the whole British and Dutch armies to be defeated.’
‘I want the French to be beaten,’ confessed Amalia.
‘Yet none of it matters now, does it?’
‘No, it would be silly for us to argue. In some ways, we’re on the same side now. We’re both at the mercy of that dreadful man.’
‘Mercy?’ echoed Sophie, resignedly. ‘I don’t think he knows the meaning of the word.’ She wrung her hands. ‘I should have stayed at home where I belong.’
‘Does anyone else know that you’re here?’
‘No, that’s the trouble. Nobody can come to my aid.’
Amalia felt another upsurge of sympathy. Before she could put a consoling arm around her, however, the tent flap opened and two guards stepped in. One of them pointed at Sophie.
‘You’re wanted — now.’
‘Where are you taking me?’ asked Sophie, tremulously.
‘You’ll soon find out.’
He grabbed her by the arm and took her out of the tent. When Amalia tried to follow, the other guard raised his musket at her and she drew back instantly. He, too, then went out of the tent, leaving her to worry about what might happen to her new friend and whether or not she herself might also be the victim of the commander’s lust.
Though they’d tried to kill him, Daniel nevertheless believed that the two men were entitled to a decent burial. After digging two shallow graves, therefore, he lowered each of them into the ground and covered them with earth. He mouthed a silent prayer then turned to see what they’d bequeathed him. The two horses were a valuable acquisition and might come in useful if he was unable to sneak Amalia out of the French camp in his wagon. The saddlebags yielded up some welcome surprises. Apart from food and wine, they contained a telescope, a tattered map of Flanders and lots of stolen money. Evidently, other travellers had not been as cautious as Daniel. After pocketing the money, he kept the telescope and the map. He also put his sword back in the wagon and, after wiping it clean in the grass, he slipped his dagger into its sheath. The weapons belonging to the two men were concealed beneath the upturned bucket. Daniel repaired the wooden hoops then pulled the canvas back over them so that the contents of the wagon were hidden from view.
With the horses tied to the vehicle, he climbed up to the seat again and set off, driving back along the track he’d taken to reach the clearing. When he emerged from the shadows of the forest, he blinked in the bright sunshine until his eyes became accustomed to the glare. While they’d lied about most things, Daniel believed that the men had told him the truth about the band of redcoats. If they roamed the area in search of prey, they may well have heard rumours about burnt farmhouses and butchered people. It was more than possible that they’d actually caught sight of the marauders.
As a result, Daniel kept his eyes peeled as he moved along, using the telescope to scan the landscape ahead. He saw other travellers a mile or more before he actually passed them but it was when he crested a hill that he spotted something of real interest. Far off to his right was a copse. At first glance, he noticed nothing and the telescope swept on. When it returned to the copse, however, Daniel saw something glinting in the sun. Concentrating his gaze on the trees, he watched for a couple of minutes until he realised what he was looking at. The object that glinted was a sabre and the man wearing it was in the uniform of the British army.
Matt Searle was enjoying a wrestling contest with one of the men when he heard the call from the lookout on the hill. The combatants immediately broke off and used the back of their hands to wipe away the sweat on their brows. The lookout descended the hill.
‘It’s Edwin,’ he told them, ‘and he’s in a hurry.’
Searle tensed. ‘Is anyone after him?’
‘No, Matt.’
‘He’d better not be leading anyone here, that’s all I can say.’
The thunder of hooves got closer then Lock came galloping into the yard before reining in his horse. He remained in the saddle.
‘I’ve just seen a wagon, Matt,’ he announced.
‘Where was it?’ asked Searle.
‘It was only a couple of miles from here.’
‘How many people were on it?’
‘There was just the one,’ said Lock, pleased that he was able to pass on good news. ‘The wagon was pulling two horses along.’
‘Which way was it heading, Edwin?’
‘It was going south, towards French territory.’
‘Then we’d better catch it before it gets there,’ decided Searle. ‘Mount up, everyone! It’s time for some highway robbery.’
When all seven of them had climbed into the saddle, Lock led them back in the direction from which they’d come. Burning a farmhouse after ravishing the women inside it was a more exciting venture for them but a lone wagon was too good a windfall to resist. Spare horses could always be sold at market for a high price and the wagon was bound to have something of value aboard. Searle rode beside his cousin who, after so many months with the band, had become such a competent horseman that he could be sent out on foraging expeditions. This particular one had delivered a prize.
‘Who was driving the wagon?’ asked Searle.
‘It was too far away for me to see that,’ said Lock. ‘All I know is that there was only one person.’
‘Well done, Edwin.’
‘He won’t try to run away from us. When he sees us coming, he’ll think we’re going to offer him our protection. We’ll have a sitting target, Matt.’
‘We will — and you can have the pleasure of killing him.’
They rode on until they reached the copse in which Lock had been hiding then veered off to join the road far beyond. Once on that, it was only a case of maintaining a steady speed and they’d overhaul the wagon. Searle yelled a command and the riders who’d been spread out behind him moved in to ride in twos. Seen by the driver of the wagon, they’d look like a British patrol. Mile after mile went by until they finally caught a glimpse of their quarry. Yet even as he came into view, they realised that their journey had been futile. A line of wagons was rolling along and the man they were after was about to join the convoy. The prize had slipped through their fingers.
‘Shit!’ exclaimed Searle before spitting on the ground. ‘Let’s go back, lads. There are far too many of them now. He was lucky.’
Sophie Prunier was away for almost half an hour and Amalia feared that she might not come back. If she’d been taken to Vendome, she reasoned, the woman might be forced to spend the night there. What would happen to her in those circumstances was unimaginable. While she clearly had some spirit, she could not hold a strong man at bay. Amalia was just about to give up all hope of seeing her again when the tent flap opened and Sophie stumbled back into the tent. She was even more dishevelled than before and was close to tears. Amalia helped her to one of the stools.