Dreng followed after me, then gaped up in awe at the steam cart.
‘Close your mouth before you catch some flies,’ I told him, seizing the tools. ‘What I’ll need next is a stout bag or sack of some kind, about this big. Scout one out and bring it to me here. Then get to bed because you will not be getting much sleep tonight.’
With proper tools I could have done the job in no time at all. But I had a feeling that tolerances wouldn’t be that exact here and as long as I was close to the model it would be all right. The metal siding next to the driver’s seat was roughly the thickness of the wooden key. I cut and filed and hacked a portion of it into shape. It would have to do.
Dreng – and hopefully everyone else – was now asleep and I could begin Operation Great-groat. With the key in my pocket, the bag tucked into my waist, silent as a shadow – I hoped – I made my way into the depths of the keep. I had memorised The Bishop’s map and his spirit must have been watching after me for I found the treasury without being seen. I slipped the key into the lock, crossed the fingers of my free hand, and turned.
With a metallic screech it clanked open. My heart did its usual pounding-in-chest routine while I stood rooted there. The noise must have been heard.
But it hadn’t been. The door creaked slightly when I opened it and then I was inside the vault and easing it shut behind me.
It was beautiful. High, barred windows let in enough light so I could see the big chests against the far wall. I had done my fiscal research well, getting a look at a braggard’s store of groats, so I knew just what to look for.
The first chest was stuffed with brass groats my fingers could distinguish their thick forms in the darkness. In logical progression I found silvers groats in the next chest and I shovelled my bag half full of them. As I did this I saw a smaller chest tucked in behind this one. I smiled into the darkness as I groped and felt the angled shapes within. Golden groats – and lots of them. This was going to be a very successful heist after all. I only stopped shovelling when the bag became too heavy. Beware of greed. With this bit of advice to myself I threw it over my shoulder and let myself out just the way I had come in.
There were guards in the courtyard but they never saw me as I slipped into the barn. I turned on the instrument lights of the car which provided more than enough illumination for me to see by. I opened the storage locker below and put the money bag into place. As I closed it I was overwhelmed by a great sensation of relief. In my mind’s eye I slid out another rook to join the first. The chess game was going as planned and mate was clearly visible ahead.
‘Now, Jim,’ I advised. ‘Get your head down and get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be an exceedingly busy day.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I muttered and slapped and rolled over but the irritation persisted. Eventually I blinked my grimy eyes open and growled up at Dreng who was shaking my shoulder. He stepped away in fear.
‘Do not beat me, master – I am only doing as you instructed. It is time to waken for the troops are assembling now in the courtyard.’
I growled something incoherent and this turned into a cough. When I did this a cup appeared before me and I drank deep of the cool water, then dropped back onto the bunk. Not for the first time did I approve of the knave system. But I was beat, bushed, fatigued. Even the stamina of youth can be sapped by adversity. I shook my head rapidly then sat up on my elbows, angry at myself for the brief moment of self-pity.
‘Go, good Dreng,’ I ordered, ‘and find me food to nourish my hungry cells. And some drink as well since alcohol is the only stimulant these premises seem to have.’
I splashed cold water over my head in the courtyard, gasping and spluttering. As I wiped my face dry I saw in the clear starlight the ranks of soldiers being drawn up as the ammunition was being issued. The great adventure was about to begin. Dreng was waiting when I returned. I sat on my bunk and ate a pretty repellent breakfast of fried dinglebeans washed down by the destructive wine. I talked between gruesome mouthfuls because this was the last private moment I would have with my knave.
‘Dreng, your military career is about to end.’
‘Don’t kill me, master!’
‘Military career, idiot – not your life. Tonight is your last night of service and in the morn you will be off home with your pay. Where does your old dad hide his money?’
‘We are too poor to have any groats.’
‘I am sure of that. But if he had any – where would he put it?’
This was a complicated thought and he puzzled over it while I chewed and swallowed. He finally spoke.
‘Bury it under the hearth! I remember he did that once. Everyone buries their money under the fire. That way it can’t be found.’
‘Great. That way it certainly can be found. You have got to do better than that with your fortune.’
‘Dreng has no fortune.’
‘Dreng will have one before the sun rises. I’m paying you off. Go home and find two trees near your home. Stretch a rope between them. Then dig a hole exactly halfway along the rope. Bury the money there – where you can find it when you need it. And only take out a few coins at a time. Do you have that?’
He nodded enthusiastically. ‘Two trees, half way. I never heard of anything like that before!’
‘An earth-shaking concept, I know,’ I sighed. There certainly was a lot that he hadn’t heard about. ‘Let’s go. I want you to be a stoker on my chariot of fire.’
I staggered to my feet and led the way to the barn. Now that the troops were lined up and ready the officers were finally appearing, scratching and yawning, with the capo at their head. I didn’t have much time. Dreng climbed into the car behind me and squealed with fear when I turned on the instrument lights.
‘Demonic illumination! Spirit lights! Sure sign of death!’
He clutched at his chest and looked ready to expire until I gave him a good shaking. ‘Batteries!’ I shouted. ‘The gift of science denied to this dumb world. Now stop quaking and open your bag.’
All thoughts of death vanished and his eyes stuck out like boiled eggs as I shovelled silver and gold groats into his leather bag. This was a fortune that would change his entire life for the better, so at least I was accomplishing one good deed by my presence here.
‘What are you doing up there?’
It was Capo Dimonte, glaring up suspiciously from below.
‘Just stoking the engines, excellency.’
‘Kick that knave out of the way, I’m coming up.’
I waved the goggle-eyed Dreng to the back of the car as the capo climbed board.
‘You favour me with your presence, Capo.’
‘Damned right. I ride while the troops walk. Now move this thing out.’
The scouts had already gone on ahead when we rumbled across the drawbridge and onto the causeway. The main body of troops came behind us, a certain eagerness in their step despite the hour. All of them had lost valuables and possessions – even knaves – during the raid. All were eager for revenge and theft.
‘The Capo Doccia must be taken alive,’ Capo Dimonte suddenly said. I started to answer until I realised that he was talking only to himself. ‘Tied and left helpless, brought back to the keep. First a little flaying, just enough skin to make a hatband. Then maybe blinding. No – not right away – he must see what is happening to him …’
There was more like this, but I tuned it out. I had thoughts of my own – and even some regrets. When The Bishop had been killed my anger had overwhelmed all of the clear thinking that I should have been doing. All excuses vanished now – I was embarking on this expedition solely for revenge. And I couldn’t claim to be doing it in The Bishop’s memory because he would have been seriously opposed to violent action of this kind. But it was too late now to turn back. The campaign had been launched and we were well on our way.
‘Stop this thing!’ the capo ordered suddenly, and I hit the brakes.
There was a dark knot of men waiting on the roa
d ahead – our advance scouts. The capo climbed to the ground and I leaned out to see what was happening. They were leading a man who had his arms bound behind him.
‘What happened?’ the capo asked.
‘Found him watching the road, excellency. Caught him before he could get away.’
‘Who is he?’
‘Soldier, name of Palec. I know him, served with him in the southern campaign.’
The capo walked up to the prisoner and shoved his face close to the other’s and snarled, ‘I have you, Palec. Tied and bound.’
‘Aye.’
‘Are you the Capo Doccia’s man.’
‘Aye, I serve under him. I took his groat.’
‘You’ve spent that on wine a long time ago. Will you serve with me and take my groat?’
‘Aye.’
‘Release him. Barkus – a silver groat for this man.’
These mercenaries fought well, but they also changed sides easily enough. Why not? They had no stakes in any of the capos’ quarrels. Once Palec had accepted the coin they gave him his weapons back.
‘Speak, Palec,’ the capo ordered. ‘You are my loyal servant now who has taken my groat. But you used to serve with Capo Doccia. Tell me what he plans.’
‘Aye. No secret there. He knows that your army is intact and you will be coming after him as soon as you can. Some of us have been sent out to watch the roads, but he doesn’t think that you will march for some time yet. He stays drunk, that’s a sign he’s not expecting a fight.’
‘I’ll put a sword through his belly, let out the wine and guts!’ The capo cut off his dreaming with an effort and forced himself back to the present. ‘What about his troops? Will they fight?’
‘Aye, they’ve just been paid. But they have little love for him and will change sides as soon as the battle is lost.’
‘Better and better. Fall in with the ranks. Scouts out ahead. Start this machine!’
The last was directed at me as he climbed back to his seat. I kicked it into gear and the advance continued again. There were no more interruptions and we proceeded, with hourly rest breaks, towards the enemy keep. It was well before dawn when we came to the scouts waiting on the road. This was the spot I had picked. The keep of Capo Doccia was around the next bend.
‘I will post your lookout now,’ the capo said.
‘Agreed. My knave here will show them the exact spot where they are to stay hidden, in sight of the gate.’ I waited until he was out of earshot before I whispered my instructions to Dreng.
‘Take your bag and everything you possess with you – because you are not coming back.’
‘I do not understand, master …’
‘You will if you shut up and listen instead of talking. Lead the soldiers to the bushes where we hid, when we were getting ready to rescue The Bishop. You do remember the place?’
‘It is past the burnt tree over the hedge and …’
‘Great, great – but I don’t need the description. Take the soldiers as I said, show them where to hide, then lie close beside them. Soon after dawn things are going to get very, very busy. At that time you will do nothing, understand that – don’t speak, just nod.’
He did. ‘Fine. You just remain there when everyone rushes off. As soon as they are gone and no one is looking at you – slip away. Back into the woods and get to your home and lay low until the excitement is over. Then count your money and live happily ever after.’
‘Then – I will no longer be your knave?’
‘Right. Discharged from the army with honour.’
He dropped to his knees and seized my hand, but before he could say anything I touched my finger to his lips.
‘You were a good knave. Now be a good civilian. Move!’
I watched him leave until he was swallowed up in the darkness. Dumb – but loyal. And the only friend that I had on this rundown planet. The only one that I wanted! Now that The Bishop …
This morbid turn of thought was happily interrupted by the capo who clambered back to his seat. He was followed by armed soldiers until the upperworks of the car were packed solid with them. The capo squinted up at the sky.
‘There is the first light. It will be dawn soon. Then it will begin.’
After that we could only wait. The tension so thick in the air that it was hard to breathe. Blurred faces began to emerge from the darkness, all of them set in the same grim expression.
I concentrated on what was happening around the bend, remembering the way it had been when Dreng and I had lain out there. Watching and waiting. The locked gate of the keep, the drawbridge up, all of it growing clearer as the sun rose. Smoke from cooking fires drifting up from behind the thick walls. Then the stirring of the soldiery, changing of the guards. At last the gate unlocked, the drawbridge lowered. Then what? Would they keep to the same routine? If they did not our force would soon be discovered…
‘The signal!’ the capo said as he crashed his elbow hard into my ribs.
He didn’t have to. I had seen the soldier wave the instant that he had appeared. My foot was already jammed down on the accelerator and we were picking up speed. Around the bend in the road, bouncing and swaying on the ruts, then straight ahead towards the entrance to the keep.
The guards looked up and gaped as we shot towards them. The slaves pulling the cart stared too, frozen and unmoving.
Then the shouting started. The drawbridge creaked as they tried to raise it, but the cart and slaves were still on it. There were kicks and screamed orders and every second of wasted time brought us that much closer. They finally started to drag the cart back through the gate – but it was too late.
We were upon them. The front wheels hit the drawbridge and we bounced into the air, coming down with a splintering crash. I stood on the brakes as we ploughed into the cart. Slaves and guards were diving into the moat to escape destruction as we skidded, with locked wheels, right into the mouth of the gate.
‘For Capo Dimonte, for groats and for God!’ the capo shouted as he leapt to the attack.
The others leapt with him, walking over my back as I crouched down, jumping onto the drawbridge then through the gate.
There was screaming and shouting, the banging of guns. From behind me a growing roar of voices from the rest of the attacking army. I could see that the capo and his men were fighting inside the gate and had captured the drawbridge mechanism from the soldiers who were trying to raise it. Raising it had of course been impossible because of the great weight of the car resting on it. That had been the beauty and simplicity of my plan. Once I had arrived the drawbridge had to stay down. Only now did I trundle forward so that the rest of the troops had a clear way to the gate.
The battle for the keep of Capo Doccia was joined.
CHAPTER THIRTY
This was a surprise attack that really had been a surprise. Our invading forces were pouring across the drawbridge and into the keep even as Capo Doccia’s soldiers were emerging from their quarters. The guards on the wall fought fiercely, but they were outnumbered.
To add to the confusion I turned on the steamer sound effects and hung onto the whistle as I charged at the defenders who were trying to group-up ahead. A few shots were fired at me, but most of the soldiers dived aside and ran. I screeched about and saw that the battle was going very well indeed.
The defenders on the walls were raising their hands in surrender. Being outnumbered from the start, and having little reason to fight for the capo as we had been told, they were eager to save their lives. Near the inner gate a group of officers were showing more spirit and a fierce battle was going on there. But one by one they were cut down or clubbed into submission. Two of them fled for the building but found the heavy door slammed in their face.
‘Bring torches!’ the Capo Dimonte shouted. ‘We’ll smoke the buggers out!’
The battle had ended as swiftly as it had begun. The gate, walls and courtyard were in our hands. Huddled corpses showed the ferocity of the brief engagement. Slaves shivered in
fear against the walls while the soldiers who had surrendered were being marched off. Only the central building remained in the hands of the defenders. Capo Dimonte knew exactly what to do about this. He waved a smoking torch over his head and called out loudly.
‘All right, Doccia, you fat-bellied toad, this is your end. Come out and fight like a man you worm or I’ll burn you out. And burn alive every man, woman, child, dog, rat, pigeon who stays in there with you. Come out and fight, you ugly piece of vermin – or remain and be cooked like a roast!’
A gun fired from inside and a bullet spanged from the cobbles at the capo’s feet. He waved his red-drenched sword and a blast of gunfire roared out as our troops fired en masse. Bullets zinged from the stonework, thudded into the sealed door and whistled in through the windows. When the firing stopped shrill screaming could be heard from inside the building.
‘One warning only!’ Capo Dimonte called out. ‘I do not war on women or on good soldiers who surrender. Lay down your arms and you will go free. Resist and you will be burned alive. There is only one I want – that pig, Doccia. Hear that Doccia, you lout, swine, worm …’
And more, once he warmed to the subject. The torch crackled and smoked and there was the sound of muffled shouting and scuffling from inside the building.
Then the door burst open and Capo Doccia came rolling down the steps end over end. He was bare-footed, half dressed – but he was holding his sword.
At the sight of his enemy Capo Dimonte lost whatever little remaining cool he had left. He howled with anger and rushed forward. Doccia climbed to his feet, blood on his face, and raised his sword in defence.
It was a sight to watch – and everyone did. There was an undeclared truce as the two leaders battled. The soldiers lowered their weapons and faces appeared at all of the windows above them. I climbed out of my seat and stood on the front of the car where I had a perfect view of the combatants.
They were well-matched, both in anger and ability. Dimonte’s sword crashed down on Doccia’s raised blade. He did a neat parry, then thrust – but Dimonte had moved back. After that it was steel on steel, punctuated by grunted curses.
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