The Bladesmith

by Melinda Hammond

  * * *

  The church at Sleaton had never seen the like. Villagers at the roadside huddled together against the biting wind and watched in awe as a succession of carriages deposited their passengers at the church gate. Mistress Kate arrived, her face pale as any bride should be, but her gown of gold lustring glowed like a summer's morning as she made her way into the church on her brother's arm. Old Master Ellingham followed, supported by a smart-looking gentleman that the landlord of the Three Tuns named as Master John Steel, a gentleman from Durham-way. The old man was dressed in the fashion of thirty years earlier but still looked magnificent in his large powdered wig and the gold velvet frock coat with its heavy lacing and flaring skirts. Master Steel looked every inch a gentleman in a frockcoat of plum coloured velvet striped with gold, but the villagers thought uncharitably that Master Henry merely looked smug.

  Inside the church, braziers had been lighted to keep out the worst of the winter chill, but the guests could still see their breath as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Kate glanced towards her father, noting that he was sitting in a carved armchair with a brazier on one side, John Steel on the other.

  Master Appleton came forward, his bible open in his hands. 'Good morning.' His warm smile encompassed them all. 'Lord Warenford, with your permission: you will know, my lord, that Master Ellingham was an eminent scholar in his day. We still enjoy our occasional philosophical discussions.' Master Appleton gave a little bow towards Amos, sitting to one side.

  'Yes, yes. What is this to the purpose?' demanded Lord Warenford, magnificent in black velvet and gold lace.

  'Master Ellingham has requested that we carry out today's ceremony in Greek.'

  Katherine looked up sharply. Could this be John's plan? She had no idea, but the parson's eyes held a most irreverent twinkle as a gasp of astonishment ran through the church. Beside her, Henry stifled an oath.

  'What nonsense is this?' he demanded wrathfully.

  'None, Master Henry.' replied Master Applewood. 'It is the wish of a loving father. I take it you have no objections, Mistress?'

  She stole a glance at John and saw an almost imperceptible nod. His lips moved silently.

  Trust me.

  'No, sir,' replied Katherine. 'I have no objections.'

  'But this is preposterous!' exclaimed Henry. 'I have never heard of anything so outrageous!'

  'Most likely you have not,' responded the parson calmly. 'However, there is a precedent. One of my very close friends at Oxford...'

  'But is it legal?' demanded Henry.

  'Oh perfectly,' responded Master Applewood, beaming. 'Language is no barrier to God.'

  'For heaven's sake let's just get on with it,' the earl interrupted him, exasperated.

  Master Appleton closed his lips and stepped back a little, drawing himself up.

  'Of course, my lord. May I apologise in advance to those who may find my pronunciation a little difficult, it has been a long time.'

  'Difficult!' spluttered Henry, ' no-one will have any idea what you are saying –'

  'Begin!' barked the earl.

  Thus, the ceremony began. Katherine forced herself to be still even though the icy chill from the stone floor began to penetrate her satin slippers. She dared not look around, although a swift glance to one side showed her that her father was smiling. The unfamiliar words washed over her: she answered when prompted, as did the earl. As the gold band was slipped on her finger she trembled a little and the earl's grasp on her fingers tightened. Then it was over. Henry was congratulating the earl and everyone was talking and crowding around the happy couple. John was nowhere to be seen but her father was beckoning to Katherine, so she excused herself and went across to him. As she bent to receive his embrace he whispered in her ear.

  'Excellent, excellent. Mostly Homer, I think, with a little Plato for good measure!'

  She felt weak with relief and leaned heavily on the back of his seat for a moment.

  'I did not know John had confided in you.'

  'Yes, yes. He came to see me with his problem, and Applewood and I found him a solution. At first we thought to use the funeral service, but I think Homer a better choice, don't you?'

  Katherine's eyes filled with tears but she was laughing as she drew away from him.

  'Father, you are a wicked old man!' she murmured. 'And a brave one, too.'

  'No, 'tis you who are brave.' He squeezed her fingers. 'Be very careful, my love.'

  With a nod she turned away to find the earl holding out a hand to her.

  'If you are ready, my dear?'

  After the service Matthew slipped out of the church and quickly surveyed the crowd. Lily Catrigg was standing with a group of giggling young maids, but when Matthew caught her eye she moved away from them, and he followed her around the far side of an ancient yew tree.

  'You want to speak to me, Master Deane? I mustn't be long, me da' is in the churchyard.'

  'It won't take long, Lily. I came to the village to find you yesterday, without success.'

  'No, I was up at the Keep. Helping out in the kitchens.' She sniffed. 'Mistress Davis don't think I'm good enough to work in the house when so many grand people will be there.'

  'Well perhaps you would like to earn a little extra money, then,' said Matthew. 'Will you help us again, Lily?'

  'Course I will. You've allus been good to me, you and Master Steel.'

  'Very well.' Matthew handed her a small purse and glanced around to make sure they were not overheard. 'We need the key for the north tower. Davis keeps it in a cupboard in his room. Could you get it for us, Lily?'

  She fixed him with her huge blue eyes.

  'I suppose I could, but since his wife arrived at the Keep I don't have much call to go to his rooms any more. It'd be as easy for you to get it, I reckons.'

  Matthew shook his head. 'We will have to come in by the postern gate, and there is no way we could cross the bailey and get into that room without being seen by the guards on the gate.'

  'I ain't talking about you coming in through the bailey,' said Lily. 'You can use the smugglers' tunnel.'

  John remained at the side of the church, watching as Lord Warenford led his bride out of the church. They were followed by the friends and neighbours, all gathering around and chattering excitedly. John stepped past the throng and looked around for Matthew. He found him leaning against the north wall of the church, his head bowed and his shoulders shaking.

  John hurried up to him. 'What's the matter man? Matthew, what is it, are you ill?'

  Matthew looked up and John was both relieved and perplexed to see that he was laughing.

  'No, no, sir. I am not ill,' he said, wiping his streaming eyes. 'Astounded!'

  John caught his arm and moved him further away from the crowd. 'Tell me.'

  'Well, I asked Lily to help us tonight, as we agreed.'

  'And?'

  'When I told her that we needed the key to the north tower, she told me there is a tunnel that leads directly into Davis's room.'

  'A tunnel!'

  'Aye - an old smuggler's route leading from the base of the cliff under the eastern gatehouse and up into the steward's room.'

  'Then why the devil didn't she tell us this before?'

  Matthew grinned. 'We didn't ask her. If you recall we only asked her if the postern gate was unlocked.'

  'Yes, but she knew we wanted to get into the Keep. Of all the silly wenches!' Slowly John's anger died and he gave a reluctant grin. 'So just how do we get into this tunnel?'

  Sir George and Lady Bedleston bustled up to offer the earl their congratulations, followed by Master Aspen, and Katherine moved away to hug her maid, who was crying noisily.

  'There, there, Annie. This is a happy day.'

  'Aye, for you, my hinny, and you do look glorious in that gown! Oh, if only your sainted mama were alive to see it! But I shall miss 'ee, hen, I truly will.'

  'Annie, what do you mean? You are coming with me.'

  'No I'm not.' the maid c
ast a venomous glance towards the steward, who was standing some distance away. 'He told me the master won't allow it.'

  Katherine frowned. 'Did he? Then I shall know why!' She turned, a martial light in her eye, but her expression changed when she found a tall figure before her. 'Oh – Master Steel.'

  'My lady.' He bowed over her hand.

  'John! What do you want me to do?' she breathed.

  She had to strain to catch his words as he kept his head bowed.

  'Keep Warenford with you in the ballroom tonight.' He straightened. 'Will you allow me to wish you happiness, madam?'

  For an instant she let her fingers cling to his, but she was aware of the dangers. Resolutely she stepped back and schooled her features into a cool smile.

  'Of course, sir.' She felt a proprietorial hand upon her arm.

  'My dear, we should be going.' Lord Warenford was at her side. 'Captain Thropton is here, and wishes to congratulate you before he escorts your father and his guest back to the Manor.' The earl's cold eyes rested momentarily upon John. 'I am naturally devastated to deny my new bride any pleasure, sir, but as you are a, er, suspect person, I really do not think I can allow you the hospitality of the Keep, Master Steel, even if you should manage to give Thropton's men the slip. Be warned that Davis will be checking every carriage as it arrives. If you attempt to enter, my men have orders to throw you out.'

  'How barbaric,' murmured John. 'However, since it would give me no pleasure to dance at your wedding, I think I shall survive the snub.'

  The earl's thin lips curled into a humourless smile.

  'Indeed.' He turned to Katherine. 'My dear wife. Come, I will take you home.'

  Obediently Katherine placed her fingers on his arm, aware again of the powerful muscle beneath the black velvet. She dared not look at John again, knowing Warenford would be watching her, but she was aware of him bowing and walking away.

  It was as much as she could do not to run after him, but instead she gathered herself to challenge the earl on another matter.

  'Is it true I am to be denied my maid?'

  'My love, how harsh that sounds. Try to understand, my sweet, how crowded we will be at the Keep tonight, and Mistress Davis is more than capable of waiting upon you.'

  'But why cannot Annie come with me? She would not object to sleeping on a truckle bed in – '

  'In your room?' he finished for her as she broke off, her cheeks flaming. 'How delightful you are, my love, but I am sure you realise that I would prefer to have my wife to myself on our wedding night.'

  'Of course, my lord, but – '

  He put a hand up to her lips.

  'Let us not quarrel over this, Katherine. Humour me for tonight, my dear and tomorrow, well, we shall see.'

  Acknowledging defeat, Katherine bit her lip. At the church gate stood the Ellingham carriage, flanked by four guards, waiting to escort him back to the Manor. She watched as John helped her father into the coach and climbed in behind him. She raised her brows at her brother, who was approaching.

  'Henry? What are you doing? Do you not go with our father?'

  'Lord, no. Steel will see him home.'

  'But you are his son.'

  'All the more reason for me to be at the Keep tonight,' he retorted as he moved away to find a seat in one of Warenford's carriages.

  'My dear, shall we go?'

  Katherine allowed the earl to help her into his elegant travelling chariot. He climbed in beside her, the door closed and they set off for the Keep. Postillions rode the matched bays pulling the carriage and two liveried footmen stood on the back, but at that moment, Katherine felt dangerously, desperately alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The short winter day was drawing to a close as John and Matthew left the Manor by a side door and headed across the park. To their left the guards' voices could be clearly heard on the still night air. Amos had insisted that Morwick take them a kettleful of the soup Cook had prepared for dinner, to help them through the long watch.

  'Kate would not like it,' the old man had chuckled as he and John watched Morwick go off to carry out his instructions. 'But the men are merely doing their duty. Besides,' he added innocently, 'if they are attending to Morwick, they are far less likely to notice what else may be going on in the park.'

  John and Matthew had chosen their darkest clothes, with hats and mufflers obscuring most of their faces, so they seemed no more than as shadows as they darted across the open stretches of parkland.

  'Gordon tells me we can push through the hedge somewhere along here, and across the road we will find a straight path 'cross country to the coast.' They had reached the boundary and John was pushing at the hedgerow. 'Ah, here it is. This way, Matty.'

  They could still hear the guards, but a slight bend in the road hid them from sight. Silently the two men crossed the road and headed for a breach in the bushes on the far side. A field of winter wheat lay ahead of them, but a narrow path ran around the edge of the field, bounded by a plantation of trees. A rising moon gave them their direction and in its pale light they moved on quickly across the open ground and into the shelter of the trees. Soon the faint murmur of the sea told them they were nearing the coast. The trees came to an abrupt end at a strip of narrow marshland and a short way ahead was the rising cliff that supported the Keep.

  'Look,' whispered Matthew. 'Thropton has stationed guards on the edge of the beach. That is very near where you came down the rope.'

  In the distance they could see the glow of a brazier at the foot of the cliff and a huddle of figures standing around it.

  'Let us hope we don't need to go quite that far along the cliff tonight,' murmured John.

  Bending low, they slipped between the tall grasses until they had reached the cliff itself.

  'Now, Matthew, where's this cave of Lily's?'

  'She said it was hidden by gorse, on the northern slope, in direct line with the round tower.'

  'If it's that well-hidden, will we find it?'

  Matthew grinned. 'I persuaded Lily to leave a marker … ah, look, there.'

  A single ribbon, pale and bleached by the moonlight, fluttered from a clump of gorse. Matthew pulled it off and stowed it in his pocket. Then they pushed their way through the bushes until they were out of sight of the path and facing the precipitous cliff. John sighed.

  'If I had known of this last week I could have saved myself a bruising descent.' His eyes scanned the base of the rock, where a thick filigree of brambles and vines grew. He drew out his sword and began to prod carefully through the undergrowth. Suddenly his thrusting blade met no resistance and disappeared up to the hilt.

  'Aha.'

  Matthew used the flat of his blade to push the brambles aside and quickly the two men slipped through into the mouth of a tunnel. Matthew teased the natural curtain of brambles back into place before unclipping a lantern from his belt and soon they were moving forward in its feeble light.

  'They have made use of a natural fissure in the rock,' John observed. 'See, where we have just come it is lofty as a church, but now the tunnel is hewn from the rock itself, and not tall enough for us to stand upright.'

  Stooping, they moved cautiously forwards, the tunnel climbing gently at first but soon the smooth floor gave way to uneven steps, wet and slippery. They went on in silence, listening for sounds of activity, but there were none. Matthew held up the lantern, and looked at the walls. The rough-hewn stone had given way to quarried blocks.

  'We're in the tower,' he murmured.

  The steps began to curve, following the line of the outer wall. As they climbed higher the steps and walls became dryer, the air less dank. At length they reached a landing with a wooden door set into the inner wall. Matthew gave it a tentative push. It opened.

  'Good girl, Lily,' muttered John.

  They emerged in to a small chamber. Before them the steps continued upwards within the wall while to one side was a curtained archway. They listened carefully, but hearing no sound, John slowly lifted the
curtain.

  'This is Davis's room.' He confirmed. 'The tunnel must go right under the first tower and the gate itself.'

  In the lantern's glow they saw the chamber was sparsely furnished with a bed and washstand, and a small desk beneath the window.

  'Kate said he keeps the key to the north tower in a cupboard on the wall. Over there.' He moved across the room. 'Matty, if I hold up the lamp do you think you can force the lock?'

  Matthew drew out a small knife and moments later the cupboard door swung open. Inside a row of nails held a selection of keys, but more were jumbled together at the bottom of the cupboard.

  'Well, which one?' asked Matthew.

  'Kate said he just threw it in.' John pulled out a large iron key. 'This could be it. Or one similar.' He picked up several more and put them all in his pocket. 'Better to be sure. I don't want to be coming back in here. Shut the door again, Matthew, they may not notice immediately that the lock's been forced. Now, let's see about getting out of here.'

  Outside they could hear shouts from the gate and the sound of a carriage rumbling past.

  'Guests are still arriving, sir,' observed Matthew. 'There's little chance of going this way - shall we go back and try the stairs? We might be able to get out onto the wall.'

  They returned to the stairwell and headed up to the next floor. This was more of a store room, but a shuttered window looked out onto the wooden walkway that ran along the curtain wall from the tower to the house itself. Matthew leaned out.

  'It looks deserted.'

  John grunted. 'With Captain Thropton's troops patrolling outside, Warenford will be feeling quite secure tonight. Come on. We will have to go right round the outer wall.'

  They scrambled out onto the boarded walk and ran, crouching, until they reached the roof of the house, where they climbed the low parapet onto the leaded roof. As he approached the far side of the house John thought for a heart-stopping moment that there was no way down. But just as he was considering their chances of slipping through the house unnoticed, he saw that the servants' apartments joined the main building at a lower level. They clambered down onto the lower roof. From the succulent aromas coming from the open windows he guessed that they had reached the kitchens. Further lean-to buildings were attached, each roof a little lower than the last until it was an easy matter to drop down onto the grass of the outer ward. Here the carriages of the wedding guests were lined up, while the horses had been taken to the stables out of the icy night air. There was such confusion of servants and animals that no-one took any notice of two more plainly dressed men walking in their midst. The problem, John realised, would be breaking away again.