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inn.’ Turning to Combes, I jerked my head towards the door. ‘Bring my horse here, now – and I swear, if there’s any sign of distress about him, you will suffer for it. More, you can forget about a gratuity until I’m satisfied you’re guilty of nothing worse than a brabble at the inn. Do you see?’

He met my eye, but said nothing. Instead he got himself outside, while I turned my attention to the man who was now my prisoner. ‘So, you’re known as one of Mountford’s lackeys, Master Hawes,’ I said, keeping the rapier levelled. ‘I somehow thought that might be the case… shall we proceed?’

***

It was a very different interrogation from the last one I had conducted, in the castle at Gloucester, of the Spaniard Sebastien who went as a Turk. Hawes was a slippery fellow, but he was caught and he knew it. Once I had given some details to Parry, the sergeant and I took him upstairs to my old chamber. He took the only stool, while the two of us sat down on the bed. Below us, the inn remained quiet.

Being somewhat short of patience now, I went on the attack.

‘Who killed Peck?’ I demanded. ‘Was it you?’

‘Good Christ…’ Hawes shook his head quickly. ‘I swear on my daughter’s life, I did not. Besides, you saw me go back into the inn – how could I have followed him without your knowing?’

‘And yet you were evasive about his death,’ I retorted. ‘You knew full well he hadn’t fallen and cracked his head.’

He hesitated, then: ‘I still swear I would never have harmed him. He was a customer.’

‘Then if not you, who did?’ I threw back.

He lowered his gaze, wetting his lips: what a contrast there was now, from the stone-faced host who had seen me off, the day I left for Bristol. But Hawes had served Parry and his constables with his own hands a few hours since, and knew well enough what case he was in. Finally he swallowed, and spoke.

‘I may know some things… things of value to you.’

I exchanged looks with the sergeant, but remained silent.

‘You must understand…’ The Comfort’s host paused, looking away. ‘Matters are not as you think, here in the forest. They’re poor folk… miners, foundrymen and foresters, who scratch a living. When money is offered for private services – more than a man makes in a month or even a year, it’s hard to say no-’

‘What’s this, a sermon or a history lesson?’ Parry broke in. ‘Master Belstrang asked you a question, so answer it.’

‘You mean, as to who killed Tom Peck?’ Hawes shook his head again. ‘I swear I cannot tell you. You need to-’

‘Damn you, Hawes,’ I broke in angrily. ‘Don’t tell me what I need. You said you knew things of value – so out with them!’

But he was torn; both Parry and I saw it. Torn between the consequences of what he had done in the matter of Leucippus, and what might befall him if he accused someone of murder. Hence, we gave him a moment to reflect, until:

‘There’s a man they use, to deal with anyone who makes difficulties for them,’ he said, speaking low. ‘I mean the Mountfords… or I should say, Master Francis. I swear to God I don’t know who he is, save that he must dwell close by. And in truth I’m glad I don’t - for should I give him away, I’d likely end up in a coffin myself.’

He looked up, eying each of us in turn, and added: ‘You see the power the ironmasters have - over me, and everyone else. I owe my living to them. And those who do their bidding wield power too… especially Tobias Russell. It’s him you should ask – though you’ll have to rack him for an answer.’

And with that, Hawes drew a breath and rose to his feet. I would have protested – but Parry laid a hand on my arm.

‘I think we have enough for the present, sir, don’t you?’ he murmured. ‘We know where Master Hawes is, if we need him again.’ To the other he said: ‘You have an inn to keep, don’t you?’

Hawes gave the sergeant a bleak look: he was spent, his shoulders hunched. Without a word, he went to the door and left us. After a moment, I too stood up.

‘Well now, it seems Francis Mountford employs an assassin,’ I said. ‘One who disposes of loose-tongued people who threaten his affairs. People like Thomas Peck, for example - or perhaps meddlesome men like me.’ Turning the matter over, I heaved a sigh; I was indeed, I reflected once again, lucky to be alive. Facing Parry, I asked him if he believed what Hawes had said, and received a nod in reply.

‘I do, sir… for he’s in our power,’ he said. ‘Were we to charge him with horse-sealing, he could face the gallows.’ He thought for a moment, then: ‘It seems that a great deal rests on our apprehending your friend Master Russell in the morning – are you prepared for it?’

‘I am,’ I replied, after a moment. ‘More, I believe I might even relish it.’

TWELVE

We left Lydney a little after daybreak as Parry had intended, riding in quiet fashion up the river towards Cricklepit. The village was already stirring, and the foundrymen would be at work, for the furnaces are never allowed to grow cold. Our party was unchanged in every respect, save one: that the sergeant was now in possession of the bare facts concerning Russell’s private shipments of ordnance.

The previous night, after what had transpired, I found it difficult to keep Parry in the dark about the true purpose behind our mission. I trusted him, and believed he could take whatever decisions were needed. Hence, we had talked for a half

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