Petroc was the first to attack, lunging forward so swiftly Jon had to give back in order to evade the thrust. But Jon replied energetically, and the swords clashed together as Petroc parried the blow. For a while Petroc seemed content to allow Jon to make the advances, even retiring some distance away from where Kate stood, a horrified spectator. But then he began to press Jon harder, and several times came close to touching Jon with the point of his sword, but Jon always managed to parry in time.
They kept up a steady pace for about five minutes, and Kate was beginning to hope they would tire. She found herself torn, knowing she ought to wish for Jon's victory in this encounter, but desperately anxious Petroc should not be hurt. It seemed to be Jon who was tiring first, though he still made strong thrusts towards Petroc. One of these, to the shoulder, Petroc parried, but Jon riposted with a low lunge, and then, in a series of movements almost too fast for Kate to follow, Petroc twisted Jon's sword out of his grasp, leaped in and tripped Jon so that he fell to the ground, and snatched away his dagger. Petroc stood with his own sword at Jon's throat, then swiftly bent and searched his pockets, drawing a single sheet of paper sealed with a blob of wax.
'So you carry a letter?' Petroc queried sardonically. 'But no superscription. From my Lord Essex, no doubt?'
He was opening the letter as he spoke, and he glanced quickly down at it.
'To whom were you to deliver this?' he asked curtly.
'That is none of your business!' Jon said furiously, trying to roll to one side, but warned by a prick from Petroc's sword to remain still.
'Treason is the business of all His Majesty's loyal subjects.'
'You mistake! I was but a messenger! The King wishes to negotiate a surrender!'
Petroc laughed, mirthlessly. 'Not according to this!'
'Then I have been misled! Let me see it! What does it say?'
Petroc looked at him scornfully. 'You have not even the honesty to keep faith with your real friends! However, deny this! I am in agreement with you, my lord, as to the wisdom of the course you propose. This strife can have no other end. Once we may present to His Majesty our arguments, he will realize their force. But the matter cannot be resolved until a quiet discussion may take place in London, and now would be as good an opportunity as any we are like to have of persuading His Majesty to remove himself there. Since you aver that argument on your part will not achieve this end, I approve your suggestion, and as soon as the fleet reaches Fowey from Plymouth will make arrangements for his reception there. You do your part in bringing him to me. The messenger knows my mind on how this may best be done, and will guide you. Just a messenger?'
Kate had drawn nearer while Petroc read out the letter, and as he concluded she stared at Jon, disbelief in her eyes.
'You plot against the King?' she whispered. 'Is that what it means?'
'Have you no more excuses?' Petroc asked after a short silence.
Jon glared at him. 'I wish to bring this war to an end! The best way is to bring the two sides together!'
'And you would do this by handing the King over to his enemies?'
Jon did not reply, and Petroc shrugged and moved away. Slowly Jon rose to his feet and retrieved his hat which had fallen off during the fight.
'Shall I take you to explain to the King?' Petroc asked quietly, picking up Jon's sword as he did so. 'Will you rely on his mercy, or return to your friends and confess your failure to them?'
'I will be revenged on you, Tremaine,' was all he said, then turned to Kate. 'Do you understand me, Kate?'
She shrank from him as he took a step towards her.
'No!' she said hurriedly, raising a hand to ward him off.
Petroc stepped between them. 'If you do not wish to find yourself my prisoner, you had best remove yourself at once!' he ordered, and with a last despairing glance at Kate, Jon turned and went.
*
Kate stared after him, then put her face in her hands, and rocked backwards and forwards. When Petroc put his arms gently about her, the tears came, and he stood there holding her tightly as the storm of weeping shook her. At length it subsided, and she realised her position, and tried to draw away from him. He relaxed his hold, but did not release her.
'Kate, my dear, try not to grieve for him. He is not worthy of your love.'
She looked up at him, but did not speak, and he bent to kiss her lightly on the brow.
'Come, I will see you safely home.'
He drew her hand through his arm and she was forced to go with him. The shock had been so great she could not yet think coherently, but when they were almost in sight of her uncle's house she stopped. Petroc had maintained a sympathetic silence while they walked, but now he looked down at her.
'Well?'
'I wish to understand,' she said quietly. 'How did you know? Have you truly always suspected him? That time when you saw him in Plymouth? I did not believe you then, and he denied it.'
'And naturally you believed him,' he agreed. 'My suspicions were roused on that occasion when I saw him talking to Chudleigh. But I could obtain no further proof. I suspect he took the opportunity to join Parliament's army after Sourton. It was easy enough in the dark. But when James Chudleigh came over to us after Stratton, he was able to confirm Peyton had been giving them information for almost as long as hostilities have existed. I believe, though I have no proof, that he originally joined the Royalists with this in mind. When we heard he had joined Wilmot, we wondered what fresh mischief was afoot, and he has been watched. He was seen slipping away from the camp two days ago and followed. Essex is in Lostwithiel but he would have found it impossible to go there direct. He crossed the river at Golant, went back to Lostwithiel and then returned to Fowey. I picked up the trail from there. Others had been watching him until then.'
'He told me he had been to Fowey,' Kate said tonelessly.
'We have no proof from this letter who it is Essex writes to, but the King is already suspicious of Wilmot. And since Peyton has been with him 'tis likely he was sent by Parliament to contact him and attempt this betrayal.'
Kate shuddered. 'He would not have succeeded?' she asked, pleading for reassurance.
'No. We were warned, but the King would not have trusted anyone sufficiently to be led into a trap.'
'Did you not need to take him to the King? To tell who were the other traitors?'
'I do not think he would have betrayed them.'
'Not even to save his own skin?' she asked bitterly. 'He has betrayed the King!'
'But he has always worked for Parliament, and so would have claimed it was no betrayal,' he pointed out.
'A spy!' she said contemptuously.
'A necessary evil in times of war.' Petroc laughed suddenly. 'Though why I should defend him to you I cannot tell! He has done me enough harm in keeping you from me this long while. Kate, I must go now to the King, and cannot say when I might come again. It all rests on how the campaign goes. But within a few days I hope to return. For the moment what shall you do? Will you tell your family of this immediately? Would you prefer that I did? Or would you rather wait for a time, until you are used to the idea?'
Kate shook off her lassitude. 'You must hasten to the King,' she urged. 'I will tell them, for he might attempt tricks, and they must be warned!'
'I imagine he is riding as fast as he can for Saltash and the Tamar, for the safety of Plymouth,' Petroc soothed. 'There would be no point in rejoining Essex, for the army is trapped.'
'Yes. I suppose so. Petroc, you must go to the King!'
He laughed, smiling down at her so that she suddenly turned her eyes away.
'There is no violent urgency,' he told her. 'I will see you home.'
They walked the rest of the way in silence, and when Kate was safely within the garden, servants and her cousins visible, Petroc took her hand in his, and bent to kiss it.
'Soon,' was all he said, and turned to stride away. Kate stood watching him, her eyes bright with unshed tears, though they were not, as she confu
sedly realised, for her lost love.
As Petroc disappeared from sight, Kate shook herself slightly and turned to face the inevitable questions from her family.
*
The next few days passed as if in a dream for Kate. Her mother watched her anxiously, but found her less concerned than she had expected over Jon's defection. Worriedly she hoped Kate would not collapse later, as the full realisation of what it meant struck her, but Kate showed no signs of this. When news came that Lord Wilmot had been stripped of his command as Lieutenant General of Horse by the King, Kate simply shrugged.
'The King had him dismount before his troops, and accused him of high treason. Goring is to replace him. And Wilmot's crony Henry Percy is to be replaced by Hopton as General of the Ordnance,' Nick reported.
'Petroc thought it was Wilmot,' Kate replied quietly.
'The King has offered peace terms, honourable ones, to Essex, but he refuses,' Nick continued. 'It seems he insists on fighting.'
It was however delayed. News came slowly that Sir Richard Grenvile had forced his way into Bodmin, then that the Royalists had taken Respryn Bridge and Lanhydrock House, both a few miles to the north of Lostwithiel. The King was at Boconnoc, Lord Mohun's house, and then there was sudden activity on the east side of the Fowey River. Lord Goring appeared to reconnoitre the defences, and posted men at all the likely crossing places. Some came to Hall, another of Lord Mohun's houses not far from Mr Carlyon's house, and others, after a short skirmish, dislodged the Parliamentarians from Polruan fort and occupied it in their place.
*
Three days later King Charles himself appeared at Hall, and the local gentry, Mr Carlyon amongst them, waited on him there. He came home full of enthusiasm for the King.
'A noble man,' he declared. 'A true commander who looks to the disposition of his troops. He intends to walk along the cliffs to where he can view Fowey. Nothing is to be left to chance.'
'Will there be any opportunity of our seeing him?' his wife asked longingly.
'Yes, he has asked to meet you all. We shall go to see him on his way.'
There was little time for preparation, but the ladies bustled about in a frenzy, ready at last to walk up to the top of the cliffs where there was a small crowd awaiting the King. He approached soon after they arrived, and graciously spoke to those who were presented to him, with a smile and a word of thanks to the others who stood about calling their good wishes. Kate looked at him with interest, admiring his regal bearing. Though he was small in stature, he was by no means insignificant, and when he smiled she realised why men offered him a personal loyalty that had nothing to do with his throne. More than ever she was ashamed of Jon, she thought to herself, for now she had recovered somewhat from the shock of the discovery of Jon's perfidy, she could bear to think about it again.
As Kate stepped forward to make her curtsey the King smiled especially warmly at her.
'Mistress Kate Anscombe, I suspect?' he asked in a quiet voice, and she raised startled eyes towards him, for her name had not yet been announced. He laughed. 'I have heard you described, in a rather lyrical fashion, and could not be mistaken,' he went on. 'Mr Tremaine, will you escort Mistress Anscombe if she cares to walk with us?'
Petroc stepped forward from the midst of a group behind the King and took Kate's hand, raising her from her curtsey. She stared at him in surprise, for she had not realised he was there.
'With pleasure, Sire!' he answered, and Kate murmured rather incoherent thanks as the King inclined his head and moved on.
Petroc spoke swiftly to Mistress Anscombe and Mr Carlyon, then took Kate's hand and drew her after the King.
'A royal command!' he said laughingly. 'You cannot refuse. But would you wish to?'
She flashed a look of mischief at him, something of her old spirit appearing in her eyes.
'I would never refuse to obey the King,' she informed him, stressing the last word, and he grinned in appreciation.
'Is that a warning?' he asked, but she smiled and shook her head.
'Please will you tell me about Lord Wilmot?' she asked quietly.
Petroc looked at her, his eyebrows raised, then nodded and quietly told her what had happened as they walked along behind the King.
'There was no real proof to connect him with the letter, but the King has had suspicions for some time, and decided the time had come to make an example of him. A pity, for he is our best cavalry leader. But we are best without traitors.'
'Yes,' she agreed quietly. 'Has – has ought been heard of – him?'
'No,' Petroc answered, realising Kate had never used Jon's name to him since the discovery of his betrayal. 'I expect he has gone towards Saltash, as I suggested before. You do not fear him?'
'No. But I would not like him to suffer. He – he did mean a great deal to me once.
'I doubt if he will be captured. We are not looking for him, and 'twould be ill fortune were he to fall in with one of our patrols. They would still know of him as a Royalist, in any event, and he could make them believe so, most like, if he were not known personally to them.'
'What are you doing with the King?' she asked then.
'I wait to see where I would be most useful,' he replied. 'My ship lies in Lantic Bay, ready to defend Fowey should the fleet from Plymouth be able to get there. If there is no likelihood of that, I can be of use on land.'
'Is that Nick's ship, in Pont Pill?' she asked, suddenly remembering the partly hidden boat she had seen when she had been along this way with Jon.
'Yes. He was unable to get out of the river when they sent troops to Fowey, so he lies hidden there. It might be of use, to attack unexpectedly. We must be prepared for anything!'
They walked along, and Petroc pointed out the sights of Fowey on the far bank of the river.
'Can you see Place, behind the church?' he asked. 'It has for many years been the home of the Treffrys. It was fortified nearly two hundred years ago, after a French raid destroyed much of the town. The church was rebuilt at about the same time.'
He told her more about the people of Fowey as they strolled along the cliff walk, reaching the turn where the inlet of Pont Pill ran from the main river. Here the King stopped for there was a magnificent view of the estuary and the harbour, as well as the hill rising behind the town to the west.
'We appear to be exciting some interest,' Petroc said, and Kate looked to where he pointed, to see groups of soldiers on the quayside.
He had scarcely finished speaking when there was a sudden flash of fire, and a puff of smoke from one of the groups, followed almost immediately by a whistling noise and a scream from one of the men near the King. Swiftly Petroc flung his arm about Kate and pulled her away from the edge of the cliff until they were sheltered behind some trees.
'Stay here. They have our range,' he ordered, and ran back to where a group had collected about the King. He was unhurt, but was kneeling beside a man, one of the inhabitants of Bodinnick, who had been shot and was dying. There was nought to be done for him, and the King was urged to move from the spot before he was again fired on.
'When I have seen what I came to see,' he replied calmly. 'Make sure this poor fellow's family is taken care of.'
He knelt for a few moments longer in prayer, then rose, calmly looked again across at Fowey, and eventually, to the relief of his attendants, agreed to move away from the dangerous spot.
Petroc returned to where he had left Kate, and scolded her mildly for emerging from the shelter of the trees.
'You must not be foolish and run risks,' he chided.
'You did so,' she replied with spirit, and he laughed.
'Life with you will never be dull!'
She opened her mouth to reply, but he put his fingers across her lips and laughed down into her eyes.
'No! You might regret a hasty retort,' he told her.
'You take a deal for granted, sir!' she managed, and he grinned at her, his eyes twinkling.
'Not so. I merely make up my mind at once,
and remove any obstacles in my path!'
'Did you remove Jon?' she asked in sudden suspicion.
He was serious. 'No. His treachery was real, I did not invent that. But I, shall we say, guided events a little beforehand. I was not ready to denounce him, but had to protect you.'
'You mean, when he was captured before our wedding, it was you?'
He was saved the necessity of replying, for at that moment the King passed on his way back to Hall, and spoke with Petroc. Others joined them on the walk back, full of the danger the King had been in, and there was no chance of further private talk.
'I will return soon,' was all Petroc could whisper to Kate as he parted from her in Bodinnick and went on with the King.
Chapter 11
For a week there was little news coming into Bodinnick, except for a report that the Royalists were steadily advancing towards the trapped Parliamentarian army from the eastern side of the Fowey River. Nick went stealthily into Fowey, crossing the river during the hours of darkness and maintaining contact with his father, reporting back all was well, and though food was scarce and the soldiers in low spirits, the townsfolk were not being ill treated. Nick was in readiness with his boat, and he and another of his crew slept on it during this time, waiting for the opportunity to be of use to the King.
On Saturday, exactly a week after the King's visit, Petroc arrived just as the family were sitting down to dinner. A place was set for him, and he was bombarded with questions about the progress of the campaign. Laughingly he tried to satisfy them, in between mouthfuls of rabbit pie, roasted chicken, and a fruit syllabub.
'Last Wednesday we advanced along the whole front, both sides of the river. The King decided to move because there is talk of a relieving force approaching through Devon.'
'So we might find Cornwall a yet greater battlefield,' commented Mistress Anscombe.
Strife Beyond Tamar Page 12
