Beloved Enemy (21 page)

Ginny tried to close her eyes, hemmed in as she was in the
center of the lines of officers, the burly back of Major Bonha
m
ahead of her. But some perverse part of her nature
forced her to see what man was capable of doing to man, to burn the sights like
acid into her mind so that she would never forget what beasts war made of the
human breed. These broken bodies no longer held allegiance to any cause; it was
impossible to tell which side they had been on, in death they were
indistinguishable, Cavalier from Roundhead. It was certain that the flies and
the dogs drew no distinction.

"Why can they not be buried?" She head her voice,
startling in the silence, and realized it was the first human sound anyone had
made for what seemed an eternity.

"
They
will be, eventually," Alex replied.

"
What
the dogs and the carrion birds leave," she said bitterly. "There are
troops aplenty in Winchester. Why ca
n
they
not be sent to bury the dead?"

"
Soon
it will happen
,
" he said, as if soothing a
fractious child.

The smell of corruption hung heavy in the still afternoon
air, and the pie and gingerbread, eaten with such a light heart, rebelled in
her belly. She pressed a hand to her mouth and prayed silently for the strength
to hold on, to be spared the humiliation of vomiting in this company, but more,
to be spared the need to dismount, to get down amongst the dead.

Alex looked at her, understanding and compassion in his eyes.
Her face was waxen, sheened with a light film of sweat, and her shoulders
sagged. How well he knew what she was going through. When he had first
understood the horrors of war, he had crouched behind a hedgerow, spewing out
his guts for hours, bitterly ashamed at such weakness in a man who would be a
soldier. Virginia Courtney was doing better than he had done, it would seem. A
grim determination radiated from the ta
l
l,
slender figure, and he felt again the admiration for her
that
had so drawn him to the proud, fearless young woman
who had challenged the conquerors with such wit and irony.

They marched the twenty miles to Newbury in five hours, the
men stepping out briskly, hurrying to put death and destruction at their backs.
Ginny settled eventually into a kind of trance, moving with Jen's rhyth
m
automatically, her eyes glazed. She was not
accustomed to riding as hard and long as
they
had done in the last two days, and on the peripher
y
of consciousness lurked the certainty that once the r
i
de was over, her body would take its revenge for the
unusual demands made upon it. It was not that she was particularly frail, quite
the opposite. Sailing, swimming, cliff climbing had made her stronger and more
muscular than was customary with her sex, but prolonged riding required
different muscles, and it was with overwhelming relief that she greeted the
sight of the small market town n
e
stling
at the bottom of the hill.

"Are you stiff again?" Alex dismounted with
enviable ease and came over to Jen where Ginny continued to sit, for the moment
unable to order her muscles to make the required movements to put her on the ground.

She sighed. "I do not think I was made to be a
soldier."

"It will get easier," he promised, lifting her down
but holding her with a steadying arm at her waist.
"
Tomorrow is Sunday, a day of rest, so
you will have time to recover."

"Somehow, I did not think you would acknowledge the
seven
th
day," Ginny said, leaning
against him. "Not in this urgent business of war."

"Even in war, we make time for worship," he said
seriously.

Ginny looked at him in some surprise.
"
Are you pious, then?"

"I am no Bible thumper, if that is what you mean. But
there are many who fight this war for religious reasons, and, while I am not
amongst them, I will honor their beliefs." Ginny knew well to what he was
referring. There were many men who feared that King Charles, at the dictate of
his French wife, the unpopular, zealous Romanist Henrietta Maria, would restore
the Catholic church to the land. It was this fear that, in many cases, led to
the demand for the king
'
s dethronement. others, like Alex,
fought for political reasons. "Besides," Alex went on,
"worshiping together as a community is good for morale."

"Ah
,
" Ginny said with a grin of
total comprehension. "I was sure the colonel had to have a military reason
also."

"
Don't
mock me
,
" he ordered with feigned
menace.
"
Come into the inn, now, and we shall
see what quarters we can provide for you this time.
"

The inn was rather more spacious than the one at Ro
m
sey, and a small chamber under the eaves afforded
Ginny total privacy. It was rather more primitive than those on the lower
floors, but there she would have had to share again, so was well content with
Goodwife Brown's offering.

"I must bathe," Ginny announced with determination.
"
I reek of horses and am covered in
dust. May I do so unguarded, Colonel?"

Alex looked at her through narrowed eyes. She seemed to have
recovered from the spiritual ill-effects of the ride. He had thought to give
her more freedom during this halt, the pale, subdued creature of the afternoon
hadn't looked capable of taking advantage of increased privileges. Now, he was
not so sure but decided that it was a risk he could afford. His men were
everywhere; she could never escape undetected. "Listen to me very
carefully, Ginny. While we are quartered here, you may do as you wish so long
as you do not go near the men's encampment without escort, and you do not stray
too far from the immediate vicinity of the inn. If you
wish
to go further afield, you will ask my
permission."

"
And
would you grant it?" In spite of her aching exhaustion, the note of
challenge was still in her voice, and the gray eyes glared her refusal to
accept gracefully the authority of her captor.

Alex sighed.
"
That
would depend. But you will not venture far unescorted, I can promise you
that." Suddenly, he smiled, reaching out to brush dust, which rose in a
white cloud, from her shoulder.
"
You
must definitely need a bath, my
little
gypsy. Maybe, when you smell sweeter, your disposition will similarly improve
.
"

Ginny gasped indignantly, then saw the funny side and
chuckled reluctantly. "You could do wi
th
one yourself,
Colonel, for much the same
reasons."

"The pump in the stableyard will do me quite well,"
he
re
plied cheerfully, then grinned.
"
Since I’ll not be the only one taking
advantage of the opportunity to strip off under
co
ld water, you'd be advised to leave the stableyard out of y
ou
r itinerary if you intend to go a-wandering. I don't
think Diccon for one would ever recover from the embarrassment."

"Then I shall watch from abovestairs," Ginny told
him
wit
h a sweet smile.
"
My chamber overlooks the yard, and I
fin
d the prospect of so many strong, muscular men
revealed in all the glory of nature's endowments most exciting." Her eyes
opened wide, and she touched her lips with her tongue.

"
I
cannot help feeling," Alex said thoughtfully,
"that
you were not whipped often enough as
a child. Have a care, lest I decide to repair the omission
.
"

"
I
wouldn't advise it, Colonel
,
" she
came back swiftly. "You'd have to sleep sometimes." She was gone on
the instant, leaving Alex shaking his head with a rueful if appreciative smile.
Virginia Courtney was utterly indomitable.

Ginny, feeling pleasantly satisfied with the outcome of that
exchange, went into the kitchen in search of the innkeeper
'
s wife. That lady was instantly responsive to Ginny
'
s request for a bath, and a tub was filled for her
before the range, a worked screen placed in front of it to allow a modicum of
privacy. Ginny fetched clean clothes from her baggage and went back to the
kitchen where she found only Goodwife Brown and two wenches.

"
With
so many chickens, goodwife, you must need to have a care for the red fox,"
Ginny remarked casually, beginning to unlace her bodice. Did she detect just
the slightest stiffening of the woman's shoulders? Her remark could be
construed as quite innocent; it was just a
little
peculiar to refer to the red fox, when simply fox would do as well.

"He gives u
s
little trouble, mistress
,
" the landlady said.

"Maybe there's some folks who'd welcome him," Ginny
said. Now stripped to her shift, she went behind the screen without waiting to
see what reaction the observation would cause. Better to let things lie and see
if the seed would take root and sprout.

The bath was sheer heaven, and she lay in the water for a
long time, listening idly to the comings and goings in the kitchen beyond the
screen. One of the serving wenches appeared with a fresh jug of hot water,
which she poured over Ginny, who stretched luxuriously. Somehow, the knowledge
that she would not have to ride tomorrow released the aches in bones and
muscles, imbued her with new energy. During this halt, she must make contact
with the king's men if she was ever to fulfill her commission between here and
London. Even if she could not see them for herself, she must at the very least
entrust the king's message of hope and support to someone who would be able to
deliver it for her. If the innkeeper's wife showed no inclination to take the
bait, men she must use her freedom to roam around outside to fall into
conversation with other townsfolk, some of whom would be for the king just by
the law of averages.

Chapter 8

It was amazing what clean clothes did for one's spiritual
well-being, Ginny reflected, emerging from behind the screen in fresh
undergarments and the blue ki
rt
le she had
worn the day Alex Marshall had ridden up to John Redfern's door. The simple
gown felt wonderfully light after three days of wearing her riding habit, which
latter garment was in sore need of sponging, brushing, and pressing. She could
do that and wash her underclothes, and they would dry during tomorrow's day of
rest.

Goodwife Brown expressing no objection, Ginny filled the
washtub and settled down to her laundry.

"
Have
you come far, mistress?" the goodwife inquired, sitting on the long bench
beside Ginny to shell peas.

"
From
the Isle of Wight,
"
Ginny replied.

"
How
is it
that
you ride with Parliament's
army?" The question was put with more
than
a hint of aggression. "Camp followers, and we've seen enough of 'em
hereabouts, are not overly concerned with cleanliness."

Ginny flushed.
"
I
am no camp follower, goodwife. I am the daughter of a Malignant, now made ward
of Parliament at the colonel's orders. I ride with them as a prisoner to
London." She wrung out her shift, twisting the material fiercely to remove
the last drops of water.

"
I
meant no insult," Goodwife Brown said rather more mildly.
"
But you've not been ill-treated, it
seems. You move
without pain."

"So you think I have bought fair treatment?" Ginny
shook out her stockings, thinking that if this woman knew the truth, that would
indeed be the construction she would put upon the situation. And, on one level,
she would not be far wrong. It was an uncomfortable reflection.

"
I
think nothing, mistress," the innkeeper's wife said with a tranquil smile.
I’m not one to meddle in the business of others. And I'd blame no one these
days for avoiding suffering however they may. You came from Winchester?"

"
Aye.
‘Tis not a journey
I'll
forget
,
" Ginny replied soberly.
"
Dogs
and carrion, but no sign of a red fox."

"The fox waits for nightfall before he prowls," the
woman said, picking up her bowl of peas and getting to her feet. "The
washing line is behind the barn, just before the herb garden. On your way back,
you could bring me some rosemary."

Thoughtfully, Ginny went outside into the evening air The
smell of cooking fires came from the fields, accompanied by voices sounding
relaxed and cheerful, raised in laughter and mock anger. The prospect of a day
of rest was clearly doing its work on men, fatigued and depressed by the day
'
s long march. The fox waits for nightfall before he
prowls. Was that a message? And if so, what should she
do about it? Go a-prow
l
ing herself? Difficult, if not
impossible at night. Alex would have guards posted around the inn, so even if
she were not subjected to a curfew, she would be unable to go outside
unnoticed. She must just wait and see, spending as much t
i
me as she could in the kitchen. Not even Alex would
think anything of that.  It would be natural enough for her to gravitate toward
female company.

When she returned with the rosemary, Goodwife Brow
n
said, "Do you sup with us, mistress?"

"No, she does not." Alex spoke suddenly from the
door. "Parliament's ward sups with Parliament, goodwife. After which she
will immediately seek her bed. One secret of a successful compaigner, Mistress
Courtney, is to seize and
m
ake the most of all opportunites
offered for rest." He was holding the door for her, making it clear that
Ginny was to l
e
ave the kitchen on the instant. So
she had been mistaken
in
thinking that he would not be
concerned by her continued presence in the kitchen. She should have known, of
course, that he would leave nothing to chance. He must be aware that, by mixing
with the common people, she would inevitably come into contact with the king's
supporters, and, while he did not know that she had most urgent need for that
contact, he obviously intended to keep her isolated as much as possible.