By The Sword

by Alison Stuart

  "I'll not deny that they were here,” Kate said. “They, like you, came with armed men, and while I can hardly prevent Lord Longley from visiting his wife or Thornton, his sister—” she cast a sidelong look of displeasure in Nell's direction “—I made it abundantly plain to that ungodly man, that this house is no longer his and he is not welcome. Any of my household can bear witness to that conversation."

  To her gratification, a low murmur of assent from the assembled household, accompanied by nodding heads, bore out the truth of her words. The Thornton household had apparently, by dint of long practice, become accomplished dissemblers.

  Price looked vaguely disappointed and began to bluster. The door of the great hall opened and another officer stood there with his hands on his hips surveying the assembled household with a cold, unsympathetic eye.

  The newcomer was a man in his mid-thirties, fair-haired and not ill looking, despite a thinning pate. The cold, blue eyes, red rimmed with exhaustion, rested on Kate's face. With a flash of remembrance she saw again the stairs of her brother-in-law's house in York and those same eyes turned upon her—the eyes of Stephen Prescott.

  She felt fear clutch at her heart but the house in York had been dark and she had carried no light. He would not have been able to see anything more of her than a shadowy figure in the gloom. To her relief she saw no recognition in his tired, still battle-stained face.

  "Ah, Prescott.” Price turned to greet him. “Any success?"

  Prescott joined the Colonel. “No,” he said, “no sign of the traitors, but we did find these."

  He flung Nell's crucifix and rosary and her devotional missives to the floor in front of the women. Nell gave a sharp cry of distress.

  "We seem to have unearthed a little nest of papists, Colonel,” Prescott remarked.

  Colonel Price indicated Nell. “Indeed, Major. The papist is this lady—Lady Eleanor Longley, whose husband was with the traitor Charles Stuart and who is sister to Thornton. However this lady—” he indicated Kate “—is Mistress Katherine Ashley. Mistress Ashley is the widow of a Captain Richard Ashley of Fairfax's Regiment who, I am told, perished at Marston Moor. We have no reason to believe that Mistress Ashley is anything but loyal to our cause, despite having given food and lodging to the traitors.” He took a step towards Kate. “I will ask you again, madam. Have you seen either Giles Longley or Jonathan Thornton since the battle?"

  Kate met his eye. “No, I have not seen either man since the battle. They know better than to come again to this house. It was enough that they saw fit to billet themselves here before the battle. I assure you I would have sent word to you as soon as they set foot here again."

  Price gave a snort of exasperation. “Well, if you have finished, Major, we will leave this good lady for now.” He turned on his heel then as if struck by a thought, turned back to her. “We will be return, Mistress Ashley. I have every reason to believe either Longley or Thornton will try to make their way here. They have nowhere else to go."

  "I have no doubt you will, Colonel,” said Kate evenly, “but it will avail you nothing. I will have no traitors in my house and you have my assurance that you will be the first to know if they arrive on this doorstep."

  As the door closed and they heard the orders to depart barked through the house, Nell dropped to her knees, gathering the small icons of her faith in her hands. Kate walked slowly over to the window. She grasped the window ledge to stop her hands shaking.

  She saw Prescott stride out into the courtyard and as he swung himself into the saddle, he turned and looked back at the house. She saw in his face, a wolfish malevolence that went beyond an enmity born of differing allegiances. She felt a cold chill run down her spine.

  Clutching her crucifix and missives to her chest, Nell joined her at the window. “I'm sorry, Kate. I told you I would bring nothing but trouble."

  Kate turned to look at her. “You know,” she said quietly, “before I met Jonathan Thornton I had never told a lie in my life. Now all I seem to do is lie, and so much seem to depend on how good a liar I can be."

  She suspected Nell knew nothing about Prescott and whatever feud lay between him and her brother, but as she looked at her friend's strained, white face she knew that to make a confidante of Nell at this time would be a dangerous thing, so she kept her peace. Major Prescott's personal interest in this house and its inhabitants would have to remain her secret alone.

  It took the rest of the day to restore the house to order. No chest had been left unemptied and no piece of furniture unmoved. The search had been thorough and destructive, but mercifully nothing seemed to have been plundered, not that there was much of value. It gave her some comfort that Price did not dare push her too far.

  As evening drew on Kate sat in the parlour sorting through the pile of torn linen that would now require mending. She scarcely heard the timid knock at the door. When it came again she looked up with a start and saw Essie Barlow standing in the doorway.

  "Beg pardon, my lady,” Essie began.

  "What is it, Essie?"

  "My brother Sam's here to see you. Says he's got a message for ye."

  Kate's heart skipped a beat. “Send him in, Essie."

  Sam stumbled through the door and stood shifting from one foot to the other, nervously twisting his hat in his hands. He waited until Essie left, closing the door behind her.

  Kate smiled encouragingly at the boy. “You have a message for me, Sam?"

  He looked around as if he expected a roundhead trooper to materialize from the gloom and swallowed nervously. “There's a man, my lady. I was bringin’ a cart of hay from Knowles’ farm to the Long Barn when I found him in a ditch. He's all done in. Those soldiers were everywhere so I hid him under the hay in the cart. The easiest thing to do was to take him up to Long Barn."

  "Do you know him, Sam?” Kate asked, her mouth dry.

  "Aye.” Sam nodded. “I believe he's Lady Eleanor's man. I seen him here with Sir Jonathan the other day."

  Giles! Giles was alive! Relief flooded over Kate. She rose to her feet and walked over to the window. It would be dark within the hour. She dared not risk going to him now, not with Prescott and Price still in the area. Giles would have to wait until nightfall.

  "You've done well, Sam,” she said and turned back to face him. “Now, go back and tell him we will come for him after nightfall."

  The boy paled. “You mean go back to Long Barn?” He swallowed as Kate nodded. “It's near dark and I don't like that place, my lady."

  "You don't have to stay. Just tell him I'll be there.” The boy turned to go and Kate called him back. “Sam, go by the kitchen and get something for him to eat and drink."

  Sam bowed and left the room. Kate paced the room, her thoughts racing. If she told Nell, Nell would hitch her skirts and run to Long Barn there and then. The present situation required the utmost prudence and she wanted to be sure it was Giles before she alerted Nell.

  She choked down a hasty supper with Nell and Tom. After the events of the last few days, they were all tired and if they found Kate a silent and pre-occupied companion, no one commented. Only when Kate was certain that the household was settled for the night did she go in search of a lantern and a tinderbox. She alerted Ellen to the mission and the two women slipped out of the house and into the night.

  Long Barn stood about half a mile from the house, all that remained of the original manor, Nell had told her. During the day she found it a gloomy and oppressive place; at night it seemed terrifying. Nell told her that it was rumoured to be haunted, and she did not blame Sam for not wanting to go there after dark.

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed the heavy door open and knelt on the packed earth to light the lantern. As it flickered into life she raised it to her face.

  "Giles?” she whispered into the dark.

  "Kate?” the voice came from the shadows.

  She held up the lantern and peered into the shadows towards the direction of the voice. There was movement in the straw and G
iles stumbled out into the light, leaning heavily against one of the solid oak posts that held up the roof.

  "Oh, Kate! Thank God it's you,” he said, raising a tired, unshaven and still powder-blackened face to her. This was not the Giles with the jaunty red feather in his hat. Even in the poor light of the lantern she could see he was exhausted, his hair devoid of all curl, hung dead straight around his pale face.

  "Giles! It is I who should thank God you are safe!” she said. “When Jonathan said you had stayed behind, we feared the worse."

  His face creased in pain and he lowered himself painfully to the ground with his back against the post, his right leg stretched out on the straw.

  "Are you hurt?” she asked

  He indicated his right leg and rubbed the knee. “My horse died under me, halfway here. I didn't get my foot free of the stirrup fast enough and seem to have done something to my knee. It hurts like hell and it's devilish inconvenient."

  Ellen knelt down beside him. “That knee is badly swollen. Ye'll have to come to the house,” she said. “There's naught I can do for ‘ee here."

  "Is it safe?” he asked.

  Kate nodded. “For the moment. The soldiers came today, but they left without posting any watch on the house. I'm afraid they will be back, though."

  Giles studied her face for a moment. “I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't know where else to go. I'll not stay to be a danger to you. Just patch me up and send me on my way,” he said.

  He groaned as the two women pulled him to his feet, taking his arms across their shoulders.

  "What news of Jonathan?” he asked between gritted teeth. “He was here?"

  "He came with the King."

  Giles closed his eyes. “Thank God. They got away safely,” he said with heartfelt relief. “How's Nell?"

  "She'll be better for knowing you're alive,” Kate replied. “Now keep the noise down and we'll get you back to the house."

  They made slow, painful progress back to the house. After the visitors of the last twenty-four hours, one more hungry, exhausted, filthy soldier made no difference to Ellen. She installed Giles in a chair by the fire in the kitchen with his injured leg propped up in front of him. He grumbled and swore as Ellen examined the knee.

  She stood up and looked down at him. “That knee's not taking you anywhere for a while, my lord,” she said and turned to Kate. “What are we to do with him, ma'am?"

  Kate shook her head. “Let's start by giving him some food and I'll fetch his wife to hold his hand while you do what you need to do."

  Nell sat beside him, while Ellen poulticed and bound his knee. At his wife's prompting he recounted the details of the battle, pausing only when he got to the retreat through Sidbury Gate. There he stumbled in his narrative, running a hand over his eyes.

  "Sorry,” he said. “I can't go on."

  Nell placed a hand on his shoulder. “Was it so awful?"

  He looked spent, drained of all his liveliness and humour. “Nell, it was slaughter."

  Nell winced and closed her eyes. “You're tired, Giles. I think we've heard enough.” She looked up at Kate. “We'll have to hide him,” she said. “The soldiers will be back again. Colonel Price and that Major Prescott have already made that much clear."

  "Prescott?” Giles looked up.

  "Do you know him?” Nell asked.

  Giles’ eyes met Kate's and flickered away. Kate caught the meaning. Giles not only knew Prescott, he knew the danger he posed, but there would be time to press Giles later. For now they had the problem of concealing one crippled royalist from the prying eyes of Cromwell's men.

  "We'll have to put you in one of the priest holes,” Kate said.

  Giles turned pale. “I'd rather hand myself over now,” he said. “Jonathan locked me in one of those rat holes when I was eight years old and I cannot abide small spaces since."

  "There's no choice, Giles!” Nell said firmly and then softened as she saw the look on her husband's face. “It will not be forever. The soldiers may come but they won't stay. We'll be left alone soon enough."

  Kate rose to her feet. “Nell, we'll use the priest hole in the study. It's the largest. Ellen, can you find a mattress and the other things he'll need?"

  "You won't shut me in there until you absolutely need to, will you?” Giles pleaded.

  "I promise, we will leave the entrance open until such time as we need to secure it,” Kate said.

  Not without difficulty, they managed to manoeuvre Giles up the stairs and installed him on a straw mattress in the priest hole. It was entered through a cupboard and concealed behind sliding panelling that could only be accessed by swinging the beam out of the wall behind. Kate felt quietly confident that Giles would be quite secure there until the danger passed.

  Fortunately Giles was too weary to argue about the accommodation and he was asleep before she closed the door to the study. She left Nell sitting beside him, her arms wrapped around her knees, lost in her own exhaustion and confusion.

  * * * *

  Stephen Prescott laid his hat and gloves on the table and smiled at Kate. Washed and rested he presented a considerably more attractive picture than he had the previous day, and his smile almost held some warmth.

  Kate regarded him coldly. “Are you here to turn my house upside down again?” she demanded.

  "No. I don't think that will be necessary, Mistress Ashley, do you?” He raised an enquiring eyebrow at her. “No, in fact I believe you may be able to assist me with another problem,” he continued while his eyes scanned the room. “Mistress Ashley, we probably have many weeks of work ahead of us, rounding up the stragglers from the battle. Colonel Price has suggested that in view of your obvious and declared loyalty to the Commonwealth, you would be amenable to some of my men being billeted with you for a while."

  Kate felt the colour drain from her face. Your face is a book, Jonathan had told her. She covered her panic with bluster.

  "I am most certainly not amenable to any such suggestion,” she said indignantly. “There is no man in this house, and I do not wish to have my household subjected to the moral danger of having soldiers inflicted upon them."

  Prescott looked down at his gloves on the table. She saw a vein twitching in his temple and wondered for a horrible moment if she had said too much. However he maintained his smile as he looked up at her.

  "I regret it's not something over which you have much say, Mistress Ashley.” His tone remained even, but his eyes were cold. “While I appreciate your sensibilities on the matter, perhaps you could view it as being a matter of your household's protection? You surely would not wish to have any desperate men forcing their way in on you. I'm sure such a risk would present considerably more moral danger than my godly soldiers."

  She looked at him, defeated by her own logic. “How many men do you propose I billet, Major Prescott?"

  "No more than thirty."

  "And yourself?” she asked, her voice tight with anxiety, trying desperately to imagine how she could keep up the pretence with this man under her own roof.

  "Of course. We'll not trouble you unduly, Mistress Ashley. We have the Lord's work to perform in rounding up the traitors and that will keep us much occupied for some days to come."

  She folded her arms and walked over to the window. Looking across the courtyard to the unused wing of the house, a sudden thought came to her.

  "Well, as it seems I have no say in this matter and I am, as you say, a loyal supporter of your cause, Major Prescott, may I suggest you and your men take the north wing? It is presently shut up, and there they will not disturb my household or we them,” she said.

  He joined her at the window and, following her gaze to the north wing, nodded in agreement. “That sounds entirely reasonable, Mistress Ashley. Your cooperation is greatly appreciated.” He nodded approvingly. “It is refreshing to come across a sympathetic household in the midst of such disloyalty."

  Kate said nothing and wondered if he was being facetious. He picked up his hat and glove
s and bowed politely to her. Kate watched him go.

  "What did he want?"

  She turned and saw Tom standing at the door to the library. His hair fell over his eyes, barely concealing a deep frown of disapproval. He crossed to where she stood by the window, and Kate put her hand on his shoulder.

  "I don't like that man,” Tom said. “He has horrible eyes."

  Kate sighed. “You're right Tom. He is not a man we should trust,” she admitted then looked at him earnestly. “I believe he may be the man who shot Jonathan in York. Tom, he must never know about Jonathan or that the King was here."

  Tom looked up at her. His eyes held the ghost of his father in them. “I'd never tell him, Mother,” he said earnestly.

  "Has he gone?” Nell peered around the other door. She looking tired and strained. “Are we not to be searched again?"

  "Not for the present, Nell, but he is coming back. We are to have a troop of his horse billeted on us."

  "Oh, sweet Mary!” Unconsciously Nell crossed herself. “What are we to do, Kate? We can't leave Giles shut up in a priest hole indefinitely."

  "No,” Kate agreed grimly. “We'll just have to take a risk, Nell. I've told him that the soldiers can have free run of the north wing. They should not bother us unduly over there and we can move Giles to your room when things are a little calmer."

  "Lord Longley is here?” Tom looked from one woman to the other.

  Kate nodded. “We have him hidden in one of the priest holes. Tom..."

  "I won't tell anyone!” Tom said indignantly. “But what about Nan? She is such a prattle tale. She could tell them about Lord Longley, without knowing it."

  Kate looked at Nell.

  "I'll send her to the Knowles',” Nell said. “Betty Knowles can look after her while the soldiers are here."

  "Are you sure, Nell?” Kate asked.

  Nell's mouth set in a hard, grim line. “It will break my heart, Kate, but then so would losing my husband."

  Later that night, when the house was quiet the women pulled Nell's husband from the priest hole. He looked ashen-faced and slightly feverish.