I had expected worse, though five royals was bad enough. Perhaps my drolleries had encouraged Sir Basil to lighten my ransom.
“I will write to my friend,” I said. I knew Kevin had no money, but could probably raise five royals if he needed, especially as his ship Meteor had come into Amberstone.
The thought of Meteor brought to mind the galleon Irresistible, and suddenly I realized how I might save myself the debt, and perhaps do the new Queen a good turn. I leaned back in my chair and looked at the outlaw.
“Sir Basil, I wonder if I could beg a pardon from you on condition.”
The outlaw’s eyes turned cold. “On condition? Condition? When I hear the word condition, I hear also my dirk crying for blood.”
“I can put you in the way of a ransom larger than any you have collected,” I said. “If my information is correct, will you let me go free?”
“You wish to turn informer?” The outlaw was darkly amused. “Certainly I can foresee for you a glorious and successful career before the bar.”
The man was probably a traitor anyway, I thought. In any case, he owned an estate and a high-charged galleon, which he could afford better than I could afford five royals.
“The Marquess of Stayne will be riding south on Mavors’ Road in the next few days,” I said. “He will be joining his galleon Irresistible in Amberstone for a voyage abroad.”
Sir Basil’s cynical look faded, replaced by one of calculation. “How do you know this?”
I explained while the outlaw listened carefully. “I know not whether he will ride a coach or come on horseback,” I concluded, “but he will probably have an armed company of men with him. Yet such an expert in ambuscade as Sir Basil of the Heugh need not fear such a troop.”
“No, I need not fear them.” Sir Basil’s tone was not defiant, but thoughtful. Abruptly he lunged to his feet, overcoat swirling. “You will be given pen and paper, and you may write to your friend. Whether the letter is sent or not depends on whether your information proves sound.”
He broadly gestured me to the stair, then looked balefully over the crowd, to his remaining captives, all servants. “Come, then,” he said. “All of you.”
I saw Gribbins still lying at the foot of the stair, and rather than step over the corpse, chose to leap down from the keep to the court below. I slowed as I passed the white-faced body, the eyes blank yet still somehow conveying the bewilderment that so often filled them in life, and knew that Gribbins’s vainglorious journey to the capital had finally reached its end.
* * *
A pot of ink was presented by one of the bandits, along with a piece of paper and a board on which to write. I penned my brief letter to Kevin, and included as well the information that Gribbins had been killed for trying to barter over his ransom. I also suggested that another embassy be sent to the Queen, as it might be some time before Lord Utterback and I were released to deliver their message in person.
While I wrote, the party’s loot was disposed of. The money in the wooden bowl was counted, then returned to the bowl along with the gold chains and any jewelry with valuable gemstones. The bowl was carried away, presumably to be added to the bandits’ hoard and divided up later. The rest—the clothing, luggage, weapons, and the less valuable jewelry—was given away to the robbers by a method they all seemed to judge fair. The bandits sat on the ground, facing away from Sir Basil, as he held up one item after another and said, “Who wants this?” Whoever shouted first, or raised a hand, received the article. Afterward, there was a great deal of merriment as the bandits tried to trade away unsuitable items.
My letter was taken to Sir Basil for his approval. Apparently, the outlaw had no objection to my message, and so put the letter in a pocket. Sir Basil by this time had finished interviewing the servants, and announced that one of the footmen along with Gribbins’s bodyservant had decided to join the band of robbers. The other bandits roared their approval, and hooted at the others as they returned to captivity.
There followed a formal initiation ceremony, in which Sir Basil had each of the new recruits swear a horrible, godless, bloody oath on the dirk that had just killed Alderman Gribbins. I thought the business of the oath ridiculous, but the bandits themselves took it very seriously indeed, and so while the oath was pronounced, I kept my face composed in an attitude of awed respect.
By the time this was all over, the sun was burning red through the western trees, and the shadows were long.
“To supper!” Sir Basil proclaimed. “And let’s drink to our new companions!”
The company filed out through one of the gaps in the curtain wall, and I saw that the fort had been built to guard a corrie surrounded by a great semicircle of cliffs. The hidden green valley had a dimple in the center filled with a small lake, a limpid blue eye which emptied into the small fresh stream along which I had marched on the last stage of my journey.
By the lake was a corral with the troops’ horses, which now included my traitor chestnut, Toast. I also saw milk cows, goats, and a great many dogs.
In the corrie the outlaws had built their camp, a clutch of buildings clumped against one of the cliffs. I saw that the bandits’ huts had been built of old, worn dressed stone, and I concluded that the robbers had built their settlement atop the ruins of a much older town, and made use of what materials they’d found.
One of the bandits had killed a roe deer that morning, and this had formed the basis of a stew with parsnips and carrots, wild onions, mushrooms, thyme, rosemary, and other herbs found in the area. There were also flat oatcakes with butter and homemade cheese, which argued for a very well-organized commissary. The bandits and their new recruits pledged each other in wine, but I and the other captives were given sour ale.
After returning my wooden bowl and spoon to the ramshackle kitchen, I went to the lake to wash the cuts on my knees and face. I was wincing through this procedure when a man approached, a man of middle years. His beard was long and untrimmed, and his clothing soiled and worn.
The man was, in fact, another captive, a man named Higgs. He had been held for five months, a merchant captured on the road with two wagons of goods. Higgs had applied to his brother for his ransom, but the money had not arrived, and now he was beginning to suspect that his brother had betrayed him.
There was another merchant here, Higgs reported, who had been abandoned by his partner, and who had been captive even longer, since before the band had moved to the Toppings from their former range to the north. The two captives were used by the bandits as slaves.
“I begin to think I may have to join them,” Higgs said. “I begin to think it may be the only way to survive.”
I, shaking the cold water from my hair, had little comfort to offer. “Join them, then. Gain their trust. Then run away when you can.”
“That is not as easy as you might think,” said the captive.
Higgs showed me over the camp, pointed out the Oak House, a small building in a field, with barred windows and an entrance through the roof. There Lord Utterback had been locked away, a privileged prisoner but with a guard who prevented him from speaking to anyone.
Utterback, I thought, would have plenty of leisure to contemplate Necessity, and to cultivate the proper attitude of resignation.
Higgs took me past the armory, which was locked and in a very public place, and the dairy, which along with the kitchen were under the command of an Aekoi woman named Dorinda. In contrast to her species’ usual gracile form, she was broad and powerful, her golden complexion darkened by exposure to the elements. She stood before the kitchen and glared at everyone with strange, fierce eyes, irises small and dark and surrounded by white, each like a black pearl in the middle of an oyster shell.