Lucy Lane and the Lieutenant (15 page)

The rebels watched the man and woman follow Gameau into the centre of the courtyard, beginning to close in on them with wild excitement, which was suddenly snuffed out when Gameau barked an order for them to stand back. They stared at him like dogs in the presence of the pack leader.

‘Welcome to my hideout,’ Gameau said to Nathan. ‘The castle is centuries old. It stood against the Moors from Africa and legend says many of them died in the dungeons beneath for refusing to profess Christianity. As you see, my men are waiting to greet you. They are a disorderly lot. They like to live rough. We are a mixed bunch. There is a man from every regiment fighting in the war, from men of rank to the common soldier. But here there is no rank—no airs and graces. We are all as one.’

‘Enough,’ Nathan uttered sharply, dismounting. ‘Where is she, Gameau? Where is Lady Newbold? I insist on seeing her at once.’

‘Of course you do,’ Gameau said, heaving himself from the saddle. Sauntering over to Nathan’s horses, he pointed at the saddlebags. ‘First you will give me the gold, Rochefort. Show me.’

‘No, Gameau. First you will show me the lady. Where is she?’

Lucy shuddered, watching as Gameau’s eyes narrowed on Nathan. This place struck terror into her heart. Her hands gripped the reins as she tried not to show her fear. She knew she was in the presence of traitors and scoundrels, who preferred a life of thieving and murder to more honest work. Where was Katherine? What had they done with her and the child? Her heart wrung with pity. She scrambled off her horse and waited beside him, waited for Gameau to speak.

Without taking his eyes off Nathan, he beckoned to one of his men. ‘Take them to the woman.’

Leading their horses, Nathan and Lucy followed the man across the courtyard. Undeceived by Lucy’s male garb, a group of men in the red coats of English soldiers leered and let forth a string of crude remarks, their manner becoming predatory. She could feel their eyes wandering over her like spiders on her skin and she shuddered. When one of them, stepping in front of her, made an obscene gesture with his finger, the sword came from Nathan’s scabbard so fast that even Gameau, standing close, could not have stopped the movement.

It had been a long time since Nathan had last killed in anger, but the burn was still there to be called upon. He drew his sword in a heartbeat, implacable and without mercy. The steel glittered in the sunlight, swooped forwards, and the tip stopped an inch from the bridge of the man’s nose.

‘Would you care to repeat that?’

The courtyard was utterly still. The man did not move. A pulse throbbed beneath his cheek.

‘I asked you a question. Would you care to repeat that?’

The man swallowed nervously, his eyes never leaving those ice-cold orbs fixed on his. ‘I will not fight you.’

‘Then do not provoke one. Apologise to my companion for the insult.’

The man gaped and looked defenceless without a weapon. ‘I—I do,’ the man hissed.

‘You do what?’ Nathan persisted, his voice sounding as lethal as his sword looked.

The man kept his eyes fixed on him. ‘Apologise.’

The apology had been graceless and Nathan moved the heavy blade closer to the man’s nose. ‘You offended the lady. Make the apology to her.’ His countenance darkened with an unspoken threat all too clearly read.

Licking his lips nervously, the man shifted his gaze to Lucy. ‘I apologise.’

Nathan kept the sword pressed against the man’s nose a few seconds longer before leaning back, reversing the sword and thrusting it home. There was a shuffling of feet as the men drew back, muttering curses. Nathan looked at the man waiting to take them to Katherine. ‘Lead on.’

Nathan and Lucy followed him towards a heavy door, ornate with decoration. Securing the horses to a post, he turned and gave Gameau a pointed warning before turning to the door. It creaked open and they went inside. They could see little at first, and as their eyes became accustomed to the gloom, on seeing a stoup that had once held holy water and tiles on the floor, they realised they were in what had once been a chapel. The room was empty. Crossing the room, they went down four steps and into another room. Lucy shivered. It was cold and dank and dimly lit with light filtering through a slit high in the wall.

At first Lucy thought the room was empty, but then she heard a murmur of low voices from somewhere just ahead of her. She took a few steps forwards and stopped. To her horror, she saw a handful of women moving about in the shadows. They wore cloaks or shawls to guard against the cold of the room. The man who had led them inside pointed towards a low bed, on which a woman lay beneath a grimy blanket.

Lucy hurried to the bed and stared down at the woman she knew as Katherine Tindall, a woman who bore little resemblance to the vibrant, beautiful fair-haired woman she had been. In her place was a stranger, a thin haggard woman with great haunted eyes, who looked as though she had endured torture and famine and suffered a long-term imprisonment, shut away from the sunlight and fresh air. There was something else, too—something less definable. A dreadful sense of loss. A deadness, brought about, Lucy thought, by the death of her husband.

‘Katherine,’ she murmured.

Katherine’s eyes fluttered open. For a moment she stared up at the face hovering over her, unable to believe her eyes, then a smile broke out on her lips. Her face was marked by tiredness and the strain of captivity had deepened the lines either side of her mouth.

‘Lucy? Lucy... It can’t be!’ Her eyes drifted up to the man behind her. ‘And Nathan. Oh—thank God.’

Tears blurred Lucy’s eyes. Dropping to her knees beside the bed, she took Katherine’s hand and placed it against her cheek. ‘I’m here, Katherine—with Nathan. We’ve come to take you home—you and your son. Where is he?’

‘With one of the women. They help me to look after him. It’s so difficult, you see—never enough to eat...’

Lucy stroked her friend’s hair. ‘Everything is going to be different now, Katherine, but we must get you out of here.’

Nathan placed a hand firmly on Lucy’s shoulder. ‘We have to leave.’ He glanced around the squalid room. ‘How many hostages are there, Katherine?’

‘Twelve—excluding me and Charles.’

‘Children?’

‘No. Only Charles.’

He nodded, grim-faced, wishing he didn’t have to leave one hostage behind in this accursed place. But he had no choice. ‘Prepare Katherine to leave, Lucy. We can’t delay any longer. The sooner we are gone from this place the better.’

Lucy got to her feet. ‘Are you able to ride, Katherine? Nathan said you were wounded when you were taken captive.’

‘I was shot in the shoulder, but it is healed now. I am still weak, but I will withstand the ride if it means getting out of here. But what about the others? I am not the only hostage. I hate to leave them.’

‘I cannot take anyone else, Katherine,’ Nathan said. ‘I am here to pay your ransom. We can only hope your fellow hostages will be freed very soon.’

‘Yes, yes,’ Katherine said softly, hurriedly. ‘We must get away from here. Quickly. It’s a bad place.’

‘Where is your son, Katherine?’ Lucy asked, looking around for the child.

‘Charles—his name is Charles.’ Katherine struggled to sit up and called to someone called Kate.

A woman broke away from the others, carrying an infant in her arms. ‘Here he is.’ She handed him to Katherine.

‘Give him to me.’ Lucy took him gently from his mother’s unresisting arms, kissing his brown curls, before wrapping a blanket around him.

Nathan was impatient to be away from the castle. His task was to secure Katherine and her child’s freedom, to protect them and Lucy, to get them as far away from Gameau before the partisans arrived. He hoped Gameau had too few men to hold them off.

Everything happened quickly. With Lucy’s help Katherine collected her few belongings and, after saying a tearful farewell to those who must remain captives of Claude Gameau and his ruthless band of deserters, went outside. Gameau was waiting by the horses.

‘You have the woman, now you will give me the money, Rochefort.’

Nathan heaved the heavy saddlebag off the third horse and dropped it on the ground. The coins clinked dully inside the leather. ‘There’s your gold, Gameau. It’s all there.’

Gameau opened the saddlebag and ran his fingers through the coins and looked up at Nathan, his eyes alive with satisfaction.

Without Nathan’s assistance Katherine could never have managed to climb on to her mount. Her legs buckled and refused to obey her. Nathan swung her up in his arms and bodily placed her in the saddle on the spare horse. She sat astride, clinging to the reins as if her life depended on it. Lucy climbed into the saddle and took the infant in her arms, balancing him in front of her.

Katherine glanced around, fearful for her son. ‘Charles...’

Lucy was quick to reassure her. ‘I have him with me, Katherine. Don’t worry. He’s safe.’

They waited until Gameau was satisfied the ransom money was what he’d demanded before facing Nathan. ‘I have counted the money. You can go.’

Nathan’s eyes did a quick sweep of the men standing around. ‘You have many men, Gameau. How many?’

Gameau held up a hand to stay any more questions, his eyes narrowed. ‘You cannot expect me to tell you that. I will just say that there are enough for us to succeed should an army launch an attack.’

Nathan didn’t reply immediately. It had been worth a try. ‘You have other hostages—all women, I see.’

Gameau shrugged. ‘Negotiations are going on for their freedom. They will stay alive as long as your soldiers stay away from here. You understand what I am saying, Rochefort?’

Grim-faced, Nathan nodded. ‘You will be caught, Gameau. Our paths will cross again. Be assured of that. I will not show mercy a second time. You are a convicted traitor. You should not be allowed to walk free.’

‘But I do, and will continue to do so for a long time yet. Now go, Rochefort, while you can,’ he said in the acid tones of an enemy. ‘The debt is paid. Whatever happens beyond this point, look to your life.’

The look Nathan gave Gameau before he turned away was a silent promise of future retribution. Deep inside him it galled him to ride away from the deserter. It was like leaving a task half-done. But he was not willing to chance the lives of his charges on wreaking his own vengeance on Gameau.

Chapter Eight

L
ucy rode beside Katherine. From time to time she glanced at her, fearing she would fall out of the saddle. But somewhere deep inside her Katherine had found a reserve of strength and she managed to cling to her horse. It wouldn’t be nightfall for several hours and Nathan wanted to put as much distance between them and Claude Gameau as possible. They took a different route from the one that had brought them to the castle.

‘I don’t think Gameau will have a change of heart and come after us, but I can’t be certain. It is possible that he and his men will stay where they are, but it would be foolish to tempt fate. Do you see the forest down there? That is the route we will take. As we drop down into the valleys there are villages where we will find shelter for the night.’

Taking Katherine’s horse by the bridle, he led it towards the trail which ran deep into the forest. The path wound between thick banks of firs which rose up like walls on either side. The deeper into the forest they went, the narrower the trail became. The trees and chequered shadows closed behind them. They listened to the sound of movement fade and die, and all at once the forest was intolerably quiet. They plodded onwards. A thick layer of fallen needles carpeted the ground, so the shoes of their horses made only the faintest sound. Nothing seemed to stir in that breathless stillness. There seemed to be nothing alive in it but themselves. Lucy knew these woods abounded with wolves, but she tried not to think about that as she held the child close.

As they urged on the flagging horses, Katherine’s head fell forwards on to her chest and Lucy knew she wouldn’t be able to ride much longer. Through the tops of the trees she could see the sun was going down. They had to find a place to rest soon.

She looked at Nathan, slightly ahead. ‘Katherine is exhausted and the child will have to be fed soon. How much longer before we are out of the forest?’

Nathan turned his head and looked at the sleeping child nestled in front of Lucy, then he looked at Katherine. It was clear from the way she slumped in the saddle that she was exhausted, but her eyes were calm and they looked back at him steadily.

‘If we can reach one of the villages, we will get some milk.’

‘He is nine months old, Nathan. I have no experience of raising babies, but Charles seems to be very small for his age. Milk alone will not suffice. He must have proper food.’

‘And I shall see that he gets some. Not long now and we’ll be out of the forest.’

* * *

After another hour’s riding, Lucy breathed a sigh of relief when they emerged into the open. The stars were coming out and Katherine had fallen asleep in the saddle. They headed for a village lying amongst enormous rocks. It was a tolerably good one, with some of the houses built of mud. When Nathan enquired of some locals in Portuguese if there was somewhere they could stay the night, the people were civil and pointed them to what might pass as a hostelry.

They quickened their horses’ steps and dismounted outside the low building. Katherine woke when Nathan lifted her from the saddle. He pushed open the door of solid, rough-hewn planks. A young woman who was standing over a cooking pot on the hearth straightened up in surprise at the sight of the travellers. The strange, almost unreal picture they presented was one which would remain for a long time in Lucy’s mind.

Without a word the woman beckoned them inside. Nathan spoke quietly to her. She pointed upwards, indicating there were beds, and then at the pot of stew bubbling away. Katherine shook her head and said she wasn’t hungry. She was very quiet and seemed to be bewildered by everything that was happening, along with Lucy’s presence with Nathan. But she was bone-weary and too exhausted by mental and physical stress to ask questions, nor did she have any desire for food. Lucy urged her to eat, saying that she would need all her strength if they hoped to make good progress the next day.

‘You will also sleep all the better for a little food and awake refreshed.’

So they ate what they could, and afterwards Katherine curled up on the bed the young woman had prepared for her and fell asleep almost immediately, her arm wrapped protectively around her sleeping son. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing even, his stomach full of warm goat’s milk, which he had swallowed with relish, before being overcome with sleep.

Lucy looked down at them with a heart full of regret. When she thought how she had treated Katherine it wrung her heart, even though an affair between Nathan and Katherine had been a reasonable conclusion for her to jump to at the time. She had committed a terrible injustice to one of the people she most loved in the world.

Nathan stood outside, staring at the shadows of the surrounding hills. There were things he had to think about. Not only did the problem of getting Katherine and her child back to Lisbon safely prey on his mind, he had a rendezvous to keep with the leader of the partisans. They were impatient to attack the deserters’ camp and he was grateful they had agreed to wait until he’d got Katherine and her son out. He was concerned for the hostages he’d had to leave behind, but if things went as planned they would all be freed within days and Gameau dead or a prisoner of the British.

Lucy came outside to join him. The glow from the moon caught her in a shaft of light. Nathan turned and surveyed her with faint surprise, as though she were someone he had never seen before. She wore her breeches but had removed her jacket. Her shirt moulded the slender beauty of her upper body with perfection. Her skin glowed in the moonlight and he thought with a complete lack of emotion that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—a stranger. The actress, the Lucy Lane he had once known, the fearful young woman who had embarked on this journey to the unknown, had gone. The wariness had gone, too, and the great dark eyes were no longer unsure, but quiet and untroubled. There was a serenity and a glow about her—and something that was almost happiness.

How can she look like that?
Nathan thought, with a faint twinge of irritation, as if she were entirely content and there were no problems that mattered. He had tried to assure her that he knew what he was doing and that everything would be all right. But did she have to be so trusting? Had she no imagination? But of course she had, he reminded himself. She was an actress. Using her imagination was her stock in trade. But didn’t the war that was going on around her make her realise that their day-to-day journey was a matter of living from day to day by luck and cunning and the grace of God?

Lucy said, ‘I came to say goodnight, Nathan.’

The incongruity of the matter-of-fact statement in that setting and his dark thoughts suddenly struck him, and he laughed for the first time in days.

Surprised, Lucy stared at him. ‘Nathan? What is it?’

Nathan saw her teeth gleam and knew that she was smiling. ‘Nothing, Lucy. Nothing at all. It’s just that you seem—relaxed, more relaxed than you have since leaving England.’

‘Perhaps that’s because I am. Best of all is the fact of departing, leaving behind that strange and dangerous place which seemed unlikely to free us alive. When I first laid eyes on Claude Gameau, I feared he would not let us go. Now I feel so much better, so much more optimistic.’ She gave him a sideways glance. ‘I’m sorry about what happened to Harry Connors,’ she said quietly. ‘How old was he?’

His expression hardened. ‘He was a sixteen-year-old ensign, a lad who had dreamed of being a soldier and was desperately eager to please his superiors and make his father proud. He was left to guard Gameau. I let Gameau live and he went on to kill Harry.’

‘And you have blamed yourself ever since. I understand now what you meant when you told me Gameau owed you. You let him live.’

Nathan looked down at her and nodded. ‘Which I deeply regret. I swore that one day I would avenge Harry’s death.’

‘Then I can imagine how difficult it must have been for you to ride away from Gameau earlier.’ When he remained silent she turned away. ‘I’ll leave you to your thoughts. Goodnight, Nathan.’

‘Lucy,’ he said softly, ‘I have to thank you.’

‘For what?’

‘Being here—for Katherine.’

She didn’t know what to say. She had embarked on this dangerous journey for him as well as Katherine. Finally, she said, ‘I’m just glad I could be.’

‘How is Katherine?’

‘Sleeping.’ Lucy sighed. ‘I’m worried about her. She isn’t well, I fear. I don’t think she’s had enough to eat—being wounded hasn’t helped her. Could we not rest here a few days to let her regain her strength?’

‘There’s little enough shelter or comfort for her here. It’s not a place I’d choose to linger. I’d like to leave the hills behind. If she’s no better when we reach Santarem we’ll throw ourselves on the mercy of the nuns. I’m sure they’ll let her stay at the convent until she’s well enough to complete the journey to Lisbon.’

‘I must confess that I’ll be glad when we’re out of the mountains.’ She gave him a teasing smile before turning to leave. ‘Goodnight, Nathan. Try to get some sleep. With two women and a child to lead out of these hills, you will need to keep your wits about you.’ She was rewarded when she heard him chuckle softly and told her to sleep well.

* * *

Having purchased some food and filled some of the canteens with milk and some nourishing soup for Charles, they left the village. Beset by a gnawing tension as they rode south, Nathan wished he could have let Katherine rest a little longer. She looked as though she needed it. But there was no help for it; they would have to press on. He looked up at the gathering clouds, cursing softly. If things weren’t bad enough, it looked as though they would have rain to contend with.

* * *

It began mid-morning, dark showers that slanted about them before opening directly above them, then a crash of thunder bellowed across the sky growing darker. The hills were steep, the valleys deep, with several feral goats feeding on the sparse grass, goats on which the mountain wolves fed. As they rode along a high ridge, the going was hard and slow. They rested often to give Katherine respite and to feed Charles. Lucy kept him close to her, shielding him from the rain which fell intermittently, thankful that when he wasn’t sleeping he would look about him with wide-eyed curiosity.

With Lucy and Katherine wearing heavy coats and wide-brimmed leather hats to shield them from the rain, they rode beside a wide stream, its rain-swollen water tumbling down from the mountains, white and deep and ice-cold over its rocky bed. The rain became relentless and the wind blew straight into their faces.

* * *

At dusk, with peals of thunder shaking the rocks and lightning slicing the sky in two and the rain—a deluge fit to make a man build an ark—Nathan led them down from the ridge. He pointed ahead.

‘There!’ he exclaimed.

His voice broke through Lucy’s thoughts and she followed his gaze, turning slightly to stare straight ahead into the yawning mouth of a cave.

Cold and wet and conscious of Katherine’s weakened state, Nathan quickly led them inside and conjured a fire from damp kindling. He then proceeded to brew tea.

‘Making tea is the most essential part of being a soldier,’ he said lightly, when he brought Lucy and Katherine a mug.

This brought a smile to Lucy’s lips. ‘And a good job you’ve made of it,’ she said, warming her hands on the mug and taking a sip of the hot liquid, relieved to be out of the rain at last.

Nathan brought the tired horses into the mouth of the cave and stripped them of their saddles. Loosely tethered to a post, they nibbled at the meagre forage just outside and within their reach. They would need more food before taking up the journey, but for the present they were happy and dry. Lucy laid out the bedrolls. Against Katherine’s shoulder, Charles stirred and gave a fretful cry. He had been docile and sleepy for the past three hours, but now he was awake and needed food.

‘Give me the baby.’ Katherine handed him over. Lucy’s heart was curiously stirred by the little boy. ‘Hush, now, little love. Soon you shall drink your fill, but first we must make camp.’

She saw Katherine settled before turning her attention to tending Charles, who had begun crying and looked very sorry for himself. Katherine had said little since leaving the deserters’ camp, but her concern for her child was evident in the way she watched him and held him to her when they stopped to rest.

While Katherine slept, Lucy sat on the ground with Charles in her arms.

Watching Lucy, Nathan smiled. It never failed to move him when he saw her with the child. She was so gentle and tender with him.

‘I have no doubt that one day you will make a wonderful mother,’ he murmured, capturing her eyes when she raised them to his.

Sighing wistfully and looking down at Charles, she smiled softly. ‘Maybe. Some day.’

Having spooned some thin soup into his mouth followed by more goat’s milk, he was content at last, his huge eyes staring unblinkingly into her own. He was always so quiet. Perhaps the world had taught him to be that way. She held him tight, savouring every moment. She had thrown herself happily into taking care of Katherine and Charles. Seeing to their needs and their safety gave her a sense of purpose which not even her success as an actress had achieved.

Rocking him gently in her arms, with the last remaining light disappearing from the sky and the glow of the fire sending flickering shadows around the walls of the cave, she looked across at Nathan. He was seated on the hard floor with his back leaning against the rock. His eyes were closed and he appeared to have drifted off to sleep. Lucy studied his face, the form of the man she loved. His face etched with strain and fatigue, the shadow of a beard gave him an unkempt look. But even now there was a clean, open handsomeness to his face. It was a strong face made for laughing, a man with whom she would like to share her love...

With tears pricking the backs of her eyes, she looked down at Charles who was now asleep. Wrapping him in a warm blanket, she gently placed him next to a sleeping Katherine. Getting to her feet, she went out of the cave to answer a call of nature. Thankfully it had stopped raining. Breathing deeply of the cool mountain air, after seeing to her needs and reluctant to go back inside the cave just yet, she walked towards the rushing stream. Standing on the bank, she wrapped her arms about her waist and looked down. The water seethed white below her, bouncing off the rocks and twisting in pools.