‘When you’ve done that, fetch us some ale.’ Thwaites lowered himself on to the stool and stretched his legs before him.‘Dear God, what weather!’
We gazed out through the still open doorway into what appeared to be an opaque wall of water. I turned to watch the woman impassively obeying her instructions. It brought back memories. One was very recent: my arrival, well-soaked, at Lizzie’s house and the cheerful willingness with which she made me comfortable. The other – a painful childhood recollection but just as salutary – was of a sound thrashing I had received from my father when he caught me insolently giving orders to one of our servants.
‘What do you think, Thomas?’ I was aware that James was speaking.
‘Sorry, I was daydreaming.’
‘Edward is offering us his hospitality.’
‘We’re not far from my house. You must spend the night there,’ Thwaites said.
‘That’s good of you, Edward,’ I replied, ‘but I must get home today.’
‘What! Through this? You must do no such thing. I won’t hear of it. If you try to travel on, you won’t reach home by nightfall and like as not you’ll be stopped by another savage tempest and lucky to find even a hovel like this for shelter. No, when this rain eases you’ll come to Chilham. We’ll see you well supped and rested and set you back on the road tomorrow as soon as the weather is fit for Christians.’
‘I’m concerned for my people at Hemmings,’ I protested. ‘I ought-’
‘If they’ve any wits, your people at Hemmings will be well bolted in,’ Thwaites persisted. ‘They won’t need you to show them how to keep the weather out.’
James said, ‘He’s right, Thomas. We’d be churls to reject Edward’s offer. I’ve certainly no stomach for riding on through this.’
I could see the sense of what they were saying and, despite my anxieties, I accepted Thwaites’s hospitality. An hour or so later we made the short journey to his house at Chilham, where he was as good as his word. I certainly felt refreshed by the time our little party was back on the road soon after dawn on Sunday morning. Still our progress was slow. The storm had left showery weather in its wake, as well as roads that were deeply mired. Twice we had to stop while workmen cleared trees that had fallen across the highway and near Allington a swollen river had taken away the bridge, forcing us to ride downstream until we found a fording place. Noon was passed before I bade goodbye to James and headed along the wooded road to Hemmings.
My man and I had not gone another mile before we saw a rider coming rapidly towards us. Seeing us, he reined in and I recognised Andrew, one of my stable hands. He was in great distress.
‘Master Treviot, is that you? Oh, praise the Lord! I’ve been sent to look for you. I thought not to find you so soon. You must come! You must come! Something terrible!’
Chapter 7
At Hemmings everything was in a state of shocked confusion. Women were crying. Men were either sullenly silent or noisily blaming each other. Only out of Walt did I manage to obtain a coherent account of what had happened. Standing in the doorway of the long barn, he gave me his report.
‘It was soon after cock crow, Master; not fully light. It was time to change the guards. We assembled here in the yard. I went with Andrew to the south gate. I was taking over there and he was supposed to be patrolling Long Wood. When we came to the cottage where Adie and the children were, I stopped to check with John Thatcher, the man I had set to do the night watch. I found him on the floor lying in a pool of blood.’
‘God in heaven! Was he …’
‘Dead? No, Master, praise be, but he’d taken a bad blow to the bead. We’ve got him abed now and the physician from Ightham has been in to bandage him up.’
‘And Adie and the children?’
‘Gone, Master – all save the baby, who was crying as though he would burst open. This was fixed to the door.’ He handed me a scrap of paper. Its scrawled message was brief: ‘THE GIRL AND THE BEARNS FOR THE PAINTER LONDON BRIDGE THREE DAYS’.
The words were like a blow to the stomach. ‘Curse me for an idiot! This is Black Harry’s work. I should have been here. How did the rogues get past our guards?’
‘’Twas cleverly done, Master. Devil knows how they got into the grounds. What I think is that they had a good look round under cover of darkness. When they saw John guarding the cottage they must have realised that was where our visitors were staying. The doctor said John hadn’t lost much blood, so he couldn’t have been lying there long before we found him – perhaps half an hour. Long enough to bind and gag young Adie and the children or terrify them into silence then leave the same way as they came. We found evidence that horses had been tethered in a thicket close to the east gate. I sent out search parties along all the roads leading from here … but … nothing.’
‘They would have gone cross country. A group of horsemen carrying children would have been too conspicuous riding through villages and hamlets.’
‘We have had one report. Some woodmen clearing storm damage on the Tonbridge road near Mereworth saw them travelling along forest tracks.’
‘Going east then.’
‘Yes.’
‘I wonder …’
‘Master?’
‘Where are they heading for? They’ll have to hide somewhere, and soon. They must know where to go; where to find someone who will shelter them. Who is it?’
‘Impossible to say, Master. We could search the country for weeks and never find them.’
‘You’re right, of course. Oh, how stupid, stupid, stupid I’ve been! This was the one thing I wanted to prevent happening.’
‘So what’s to be done, Master?’ Walt looked to me for a decision, and several others stood nearby waiting to hear my answer.
What was I to say? I was too stunned by what had happened to give my people the lead they expected of me but I had to do something. With a confidence I certainly did not feel, I gave my orders. ‘I’ll write letters to the magistrates and all the gentry. Get together whatever men you can spare and have them ready to ride all over the shire. If we alert as many landowners as possible we should be able to discover where this gang is hiding.’
I went to my chamber and called for ink and paper. I had scrawled no more than three messages when the door burst open. Lizzie marched in with Ned Longbourne a few paces behind her.
‘You cackbrained clotpole! What have you done?’ She stood before me, hands on hips, dark eyes flashing. ‘You get this old man to bring me here for “safety” and what do I find as soon as I arrive, my children taken by a gang of cutthroats. I’ll never see them again.’
Ned stepped forward. ‘It seems the baby is safe and in good hands,’ he ventured diffidently.
‘Close your maw, you old fool!’ Lizzie raged. ‘I’m thinking of my little Annie. She’ll be frightened to death – if she isn’t already dead.’ She turned away and paced the room. ‘There are three witless gulls here. You two haven’t a brain to share between you and I’ve been lunatic enough to listen to you.’
I stood up and took a step away from the table. ‘It’s good that you’re here, Lizzie …’
‘Don’t you soft-talk me!’ She raised her hands, fingers outstretched like claws and lurched forward.
What she would have done if Ned had not stepped between us I know not. He took hold of her arms and guided her to a chair. ‘You are right,’ he said. ‘We’ve all been foolish. But now we share the same grief and anger. What we must do is channel our feelings, pool our folly and see if we cannot, between us, find a few grains of wisdom. Thomas, can you tell us exactly what has happened? We have had only garbled accounts from the servants.’
He settled on a stool beside Lizzie while I outlined the sequence of events from my departure the previous day to my arrival home again.