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

Silence fell again, and this time it was not broken. Having said all that he wished for the present, Sandys rose, saying he had matters to attend to before retiring. His men – guards from the county militia - were being fed in the Foxhill kitchens before going to their billets in the outbuildings.

Just then, the manor was become a garrison.

I watched the High Sheriff go, then stood up myself… and to my surprise, I swayed a little. It was a timely reminder of my age, and of the fact that engaging in tussles with armed ruffians was something I should hence refrain from, forever. Had I not made some similar resolve already, back on the salt-marshes at Lydney? My memory was vague on the matter. I only knew that I ached in several places, not least my jaw. Recovering myself, I murmured something about a touch of vertigo, and told Sir Richard I would go to take my rest.

‘When a little time is passed, I beg you will return,’ he said, making the effort to rise himself. ‘You and your family are forever welcome. Yet I will understand if you choose not to accept the invitation.’

But I met his eye, and nodded. ‘Of course I’ll visit. Hester and I would be glad of it.’

‘God bless you, Robert,’ was all he said. Whereupon I managed a tired smile and left him at his table. The knight and loyal subject of the crown had quitted his chamber of confinement, and was master of his estate once again.

But he would have no heir to succeed him: the bitterest pill a man may swallow.

***

I did not see Sir Richard again for a long while, and I need not speak of it now. Nor did I see Mistress Maria, or her companion. Along with Sir Samuel and his eight or nine men, I took my leave of Foxhill early in the morning as a mist rose from the Severn. Summer was passing, and the air was chill. The last person I spoke with was the young stable lad: another of my rescuers. It gave me pleasure to put money in his hand, and to observe his pride when I commended his courage.

Thereafter, I mounted Leucippus and at last rode out of the stable yard, across the courtyard to the manor gates. Behind Sandys and myself rode a tight-knit party with two prisoners in their midst: William, dull-eyed, with head hanging… and Francis Mountford, staring ahead as if unconcerned at his plight. But I had caught his eye when he was brought from the house, and knew him for the dissembler he was. He suffered - and to his chagrin, he saw that I knew it.

His wife, as I had told him in anger, would indeed make a pretty widow.

Two hours of steady riding, and we reached Worcester – and seldom have I been so glad to pass through the Sudbury Gate and enter the old city. It was a Thursday, the streets were a-bustle and the cries of hawkers assailed me. I would have taken time to drink it all in before taking a welcome mug at the Old Talbot, but an urgency was upon me. Thirldon awaited, as did Hester and Childers… what news might also await me, I tried not to think upon.

Around mid-day, with the Minster bells clanging, I at last took leave of Sir Samuel. The High Sheriff’s home was at Ombersley, north of the city, but he had much to do here. Having seen William taken off to the Castle prison, he sat his horse and faced me. Francis Mountford remained mounted nearby, guarded closely but unbound. He was still a nobleman, and would be found suitable accommodation in the house of some city worthy before he came to trial.

‘At the final turn, Belstrang, I find myself short of words,’ Sir Samuel said at last. ‘I would commend you, but it seems inadequate. Rest assured that The Chief Justice – and His Majesty too – will hear the whole of what has been done. I will write to Justice March too, in Gloucester; a choleric gentleman, I always thought - as impetuous as you. But his heart is true, as is his passion for justice… you are rare beasts, the two of you.’

Whereupon he offered his hand, which I took readily. And we parted, wheeling our mounts: Sandys for the Guildhall and I for the West Gate, to take the road to my treasured estate. It was but weeks since I had left, yet it seemed like a year.

I shook the reins, felt Leucippus respond - then on a sudden impulse I halted, causing him to blow his nostrils in irritation. The notion had flown to my mind again, as it had the evening before at Sir Richard’s table. For a moment, I sat in the saddle while the people of Worcester surged about me… then I made my decision.

Was it rash, foolish, or merely sentimental? To this day, I do not know. All I can say is that I turned Leucippus and urged him away in the opposite direction. A few minutes later I had ridden to the door of Matthew Standish’s fine house, where I dismounted. I looked about for a boy to hold my horse, but saw only a ragged, barefoot girl, eying me impertinently. With a sigh, I made my request and held out the coin, which she accepted with a ready smile.

And yet I did not return it; my heart was aflutter with mingled anger, anticipation and… what, fear? No matter: in a moment I had ascended the steps and knocked firmly on the door. From habit – for so it had become of late - I put my hand on my sword, feeling the reassuring coldness of its steel hilt.