Deliverance: A Justice Belstrang Mystery John Pilkington (story reading .TXT) 📖

face. Turning to the boy, she murmured a few words which sent him scurrying away. With a glance at William, she gestured me to draw close.

‘I can manage my husband, Master Belstrang,’ she said. ‘He knows he can’t silence me, not without removing me permanently – and he would not dare. As for his servant - his eyes, as the boy said - he would not accuse me even if he could speak. Do you wonder at the hood he wears? It’s to cover the scars, where his ears were cropped. One further offence and he will hang… and his name’s not William. He’s but a hireling - an instrument, to serve Francis’s whims.’

She drew a breath and gestured to the stable doors. ‘Now, please get your horse and ride out while you can.’

I would have spoken, but her expression brooked no refusal. So I stepped away, picking up pace as I walked into the gloom of the stable. Leucippus was restless… at sight of me he shook his mane and came forward. Drawing alongside him, I spoke quickly but soothingly. Then I caught up the rein and led him out into the yard - only to stop in my tracks at the noise of hoofbeats.

I whirled about, towards the archway – and saw Francis Mountford riding in on a fine black horse. Behind him came two male servants in livery - and all drew rein at once, with a flurry of clattering hooves. Leucippus whinnied and stamped, as if willing me to put my foot in the stirrup… but it was too late.

‘By the Christ…’ Mountford eased his horse forward, to halt but a few feet away. His eyes went swiftly from me to William, then to his wife and back to me… whereupon his face twisted into a savage glare.

‘Well, Belstrang, it appears you’ve forced matters by yourself - and rather sooner than I had planned,’ he said, eying me with venom. ‘Would you care to let go of the reins? Otherwise, I’ll be obliged to have you shot.’

Without turning round, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate one of his servants. I looked, and saw that the man had brought a small carbine from his saddle holster, and was making it ready with speed.

With sinking heart, I dropped the rein.

***

The next hour I find difficult to relive; not because my memory fails me, but because I recall events only too well. I see now that it could have been my last hour on earth… a vague memory of Childers and his glum words of foreboding sprang to mind. But in the end, events moved in ways I had barely hoped for… and more quickly than I expected.

The matter came to a head soon after I was disarmed by Mountford’s men. Leucippus was back in the stable, William had been helped away to have his wound tended… and Mistress Maria was nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile I was marched away from the house and outbuildings by the two men who had ridden in with their master. We passed through a gate, and began to cross a field that sloped downwards - and my heart gave a thud, as I looked into the distance and saw the lake.

So: it was no idle threat. The master of Foxhill really did intend to have me despatched by the waterside - before witnesses who would doubtless swear to the manner of my death. For a moment I could almost have laughed: that fishing, one of my true passions in life, could be made the means of my losing it. Struggling to master my fear, on impulse I struck my foot on the ground and halted.

‘I’ve a mind to be troublesome,’ I said, turning to the man on my right. ‘I’ll go no further.’

‘Your pardon, sir, but it makes no trouble,’ he replied. I caught his look, and knew him for a hard rogue - the sort that Mountford employed at Cricklepit and elsewhere to do his unsavoury work. ‘If need be, we’ll bind you and drag you… a pity to stain your fine clothes.’

‘You varlet,’ I threw back, with scorn. ‘Are you so dim-witted, you can’t see your master is ensnared? His actions are known. There’s a net closing, and anyone who aided him will-’

But I was cut short, stifled by a sweaty hand being clamped across my mouth. The two men, both angered, gripped my arms tightly.

‘That’s enough,’ the one who had silenced me snapped. ‘Go forward now or we’ll carry you… the choice is yours.’

He removed his hand – whereupon I gave vent to my rage. ‘Damn you!’ I cried, my pulse racing. ‘God knows, if I’d had you before me when I sat on the magistrate’s bench, I’d have sent you both to be whipped and branded, perhaps more-’

‘No - damn you!’ The first fellow threw back, stifling me again. This time he grasped my jaw, which still ached from the blow William had dealt me… and as he squeezed, I began to struggle. Growing desperate, twisting my head this way and that, I kicked out, catching him the shins. He grunted, muttered an oath – then to my alarm shifted his grip, dropping his hand to my throat. I felt his fingers close about my windpipe, and knew this could be my last tussle… whereupon the other one spoke up.

‘Stop! You know what the master’s orders are. Loosen him!’

The moment that followed was so taut, I almost expected to see the two come to blows there in the field. They stood glaring at each other, with me caught in the middle. Wild notions flew up: of butting one of them, or kicking out again before making a run for it… I managed to jerk my head aside, peering round…

Then came the cataclysm.

Shouts and calls rang out, from somewhere in the direction of the