seems, too. We have to get them out. Today. When word gets back that I have escaped the Palace it will put them in mortal danger.'
'If there's anything I can do to help, then I will,' Father Maikel said. 'God seems to have given me no small talent for this line of work.'
Marek clapped the priest on his back. 'You have done quite enough, Father. When the Queen's disappearance is discovered it will not take them much time to link the escape to you. It might be best if you kept your head down for a few days at least until all this is over, one way or another.'
'Yes,' Ysabel said. 'I cannot thank you enough, Father.' She stood and made her way across to the priest, taking his hand. 'I will be forever grateful.' Then she turned and faced Rampton. 'Now, let's go and rescue the children.'
'Oh, no,' Rampton replied. 'You'll be staying here, safe, and where Davyd can keep his eyes on you.'
'Don't presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, Lieutenant.' Ysabel's eyes flashed with anger for a moment.
'With respect, Your Majesty,' Rampton replied. 'I do not have to do as you command. I answer to Emperor Frederick.'
'You misunderstand,' Ysabel said, 'that is not my meaning. I am a common citizen now. I can go wherever I wish.'
Rampton looked across to where Marek stood. 'She's right,' he said.
'It's up to you.' Marek shrugged his shoulders.
Rampton shook his head, thinking. 'Alright!' he said. 'But you keep at the back. And don't do anything stupid.'
'I won't.' Ysabel smiled. 'And you say you have a man on the inside of the gang?'
'Yes,' Rampton replied. 'I could have got him out many times, but he's chosen to stay to protect the children.'
'He sounds a brave man,' Ysabel said. 'What did you say his name was?'
'Thomas Winterburne,' Rampton replied.
46
Winterburne stood on the walls of the villa looking out over the parapet and across the city towards the towers of the Palace visible in the distance through the haze. The afternoon sunshine warmed his back and he was grateful for the comfort that it brought him for there had been precious little of that recently. For a brief moment he was able to relax, a feeling that he had not been able to allow himself for a while. He took a deep breath of the warm air, closing his eyes just for a moment. He opened them, then reached into his tunic, pulling out his pocket watch and flipping open the silver face cover to reveal the hands inside. Ten minutes to two. Conn would be here on the hour. He closed the cover and slid it back into his pocket.
Conn hadn't told him why he wanted to talk to him but his experience of the man suggested that when he did it was never for a reason that he ended up being happy about. Usually it meant that he had a need for him to do something. Down below him, in the compound, all of the children played in the sunshine, laughing as they chased each other around the flower beds, running in and out in some semblance of a game of tag. They had seemed happier of late and in truth he had grown to like them. The boys, in particular, were cheeky and confident and he smiled as he found himself reminded of Luke. Then, Alyssa's face appeared in his mind and the smile left his face. He still missed her.
Trying to get the thought from his mind, he turned away to look at the horizon again. The door to the compound opened with a click and Winterburne looked down towards the source of the noise. Verkade had stepped out into the garden and was looking around the compound. As he realised that Winterburne was on the walls above, he raised his hand to cover his eyes, shading them from the sun, motioning for him to come over. Winterburne lifted his sword to one side and climbed down the ladder before making his way across the soft grass to where the cook stood waiting, his face serious.
'He's here,' Verkade said. He scuffed his foot on the dusty path and then looked up. 'If I were you I'd get the kids back inside.'
Winterburne looked into Verkade's eyes and then nodded, stepping away from the man and trotting over to the children. 'Come on!' he called, across the garden. 'Time to go back in!'
The children grumbled as they made their way over to him, each giving him a look as they passed by. He ruffled the hair of one of the boys as he passed and the youngster pulled his head away, looking up at him with a grimace on his face.
Natalia stopped as she reached him. 'Is everything alright, Richard?'
Winterburne placed his hand on her shoulder, smiling back. 'Of course,' he said. 'Go on inside.' He glanced up at Verkade, but if the man knew anything about the reason for Conn's summons then he wasn't letting the knowledge show on his face.
Winterburne followed behind Natalia, and by the time he caught up with the children, along the corridor, they had returned to the room that had become their prison. He poked his head around the door.
'I'll be back as soon as I can,' he said.
The children's silent, trusting faces looked back at him.
Winterburne pulled the door together and turned the key in the lock. Verkade had followed behind him and he faced the man. 'Do you know what Conn wants?'
'I have an idea,' Verkade said. 'But it's best that you speak to him yourself.'
Winterburne turned and walked along the corridor that led to the office Conn had taken as his own. Before he had travelled too much further along the hallway the cook's voice called after him.
'Stay calm,' Verkade said. 'Don't say anything to wind him up, and don't do anything hasty.'
Winterburne frowned but then carried on along the hallway. As he walked, he passed doors on either side of him and as he carried on it felt like the villa had more rooms in it than was physically possible. The corridors seemed to go on forever, but eventually, after climbing the dozen steps or so he reached the office door. Conn had stationed a man outside and he nodded once as he saw Winterburne approach. The man reached over to the handle and turned it, pushing the door for him to enter.
Winterburne looked up as he entered the room. Conn sat behind his desk, and Spen was standing to one side, against the side cabinet, pouring himself some of Conn's brandy from a crystal glass decanter.
Spen turned to look over at him. 'Want one?'
'No,' Winterburne replied. 'Not this early in the day.'
'Suit yourself.'
Conn watched him in silence. His face was dead-pan and showed no hint of an expression. 'I've been at the Palace, Smyth.' He paused to stare at Winterburne, his eyes boring into him. 'The King was asking after you.'
'After me?'
Conn nodded. 'That's right. He has an extra-special job that he needs doing and he wondered whether you were up for it.' He smirked, glancing sideways at Spen before looking back towards Winterburne. 'I told him that you were an important part of the team and that you would love to oblige.'
'What job is it?'
Spen smiled as he raised the glass to his mouth to sip some of the brandy.
'Our guests have overstayed their welcome,' Conn said. He paused, seeming to try to gauge Winterburne's reaction to what he had just said. 'Apparently, they no longer perform any useful function in his plans and His Majesty considers them a drain on resources.'
Winterburne cast his eyes up to the ceiling. He knew exactly what Conn had meant and in truth he had always expected that this day would come, sooner or later.
'When is it to be done?' he asked.
'There is no time like the present,' Conn said. 'Strike whilst the iron is hot, and all that.'
Spen laughed. 'Then we don't have to waste good money on an evening meal.'
Conn joined in with his laughter. 'Nice one,' he said, pointing at his second.
Winterburne sighed. 'And do I get any time to make preparations?'
'What is there to prepare?' Conn asked. Then he seemed to realise what Winterburne was saying. 'Oh, I see. To prepare yourself.'
Winterburne nodded.
'Very well,' Conn replied, leaning back in his chair. 'I don't see why not. But it needs to be done this afternoon.' He looked Winterburne in the eye. 'I'll be along at four to check.'
oOo
'S
o, you've been given the order, then?' Verkade took a pan from the shelf and placed it on his workbench.
'So you knew?'
The cook shook his head. 'It didn't take too much guessing to work out that their time would run out eventually. I did warn you not to get too attached.'
Winterburne nodded, folding his arms and leaning against the work surface. 'That doesn't make me feel any better.'
'I didn't intend it to. I am no counsellor.'
Verkade opened a drawer and took out a knife, holding it up to the light to check the edge. He ran his finger at right angles to the blade, making a face to show that he approved of its sharpness.
'I know,' Winterburne said, 'but I just thought that you might have been able to offer me some crumb of support.'
'What makes you think that?'
Winterburne shrugged.
'How will you do it?' The cook opened the cupboard and pulled out a bunch of carrots, placing them next to the pan. 'Something quick and quiet would be best.'
'What would you do?'
'Hey,' Verkade said, holding up his hands, 'it's not me that has to think about it. But, honestly, child-killing doesn't sit well on my conscience either.'
'So you would refuse to do it?'
'Ain't saying nothing. Told you. It's nothing to do with me.'
Winterburne watched the man preparing the food, focussed on the work before him, miles away and not even thinking about the unsavoury task that he had been allocated.
'Verkade,' he said, 'you have always seemed to me to be a good man at heart.'
'You reckon?'
'Can I trust you?'
'No.'
'I'm being serious.'
'I know you are, Smythie,' Verkade said, 'but you would be foolish to trust a man that's prepared to sell his soul to the highest bidder.'
'I don't believe that you're like that. Not really.'
'Ain't I?'
Winterburne looked down at the floor, and then up to Verkade's face, focussing deep into the man's eyes. 'Every one knows that Conn and Courtenay have gone too far this time?'
Verkade frowned. He was still gripping the knife and he turned to lean against the bench, crossing his arms. He pointed the blade toward Winterburne. 'Who are you?' he asked. 'Truthfully.'
Winterburne stepped backwards. 'What do you mean?'
'You are not who you say you are. I know it for a fact now.'
'What makes you say that?'
'How do you know the name, Courtenay?' Verkade asked. 'Not from me that's for sure, and I'll wager, not from Conn either.' The knife point still pointed towards Winterburne. 'And tell me the truth or I swear I will cut your throat myself.'
Winterburne stared back at Verkade, searching his face.
'So? Who are you?' Verkade said, again.
'My name is Thomas Winterburne.'
'You're not on the run either are you?' It was Verkade's turn to search Winterburne's eyes.
Winterburne shook his head. 'Not in the sense that you mean.'
'In what sense then?'
Winterburne sighed. It was time for truths, at least to some people. He was already in a fix and it would make little difference in letting the cook into a little of his secret.
'I've been sent by the Emperor,' he said, 'to find the band of men that are attacking the Queen's men in his name. I've been sent to try to stop them. To stop the war.'
Verkade laughed, tossing his head backwards. 'You've done a fine job then, I don't think.'
'The course of events have meant a change of plan.'
'In what way?' Verkade still chuckled.
'I did not expect certain obstacles to arise that would mean that I would be kept here for as long as I have been.' Winterburne thumbed in the direction of the children's room. 'They are a complication that I didn't expect.'
Verkade became silent, and looked back at him.
Winterburne took a deep breath. 'If I have to lay down my life to protect them, then so be it.'
'I knew you couldn't do it.' Verkade placed down the knife. 'There was always something about you that didn't add up. You were always too...responsible.'
'Help me.'
'What?'
'Help me to protect the children.' Winterburne reached out to Verkade and touched his arm.
Verkade looked down at his hand. 'Why should I?' he asked.
'Because you're better than this.'
Verkade huffed and shook his head. 'You're wrong. I am no better than any of the other criminals that Conn has taken under his wing. This is all I'll ever have. All I'll ever be.'
'That's not true,' Winterburne said. 'What if I can offer you an amnesty? I don't care what you've done in the past. If you help me, I'll speak up for you.' He paused. 'Those kids don't deserve to pay the price for Courtenay's ambition.'
Verkade was silent for a moment. 'You do know that you stand no chance against Conn and his men.'
Winterburne shrugged.
'You're going to die, you know that don't you?' Verkade added.
'Probably.'
'Spen's got it in for you,' Verkade added, 'and when Conn realises you've crossed him, he'll slit your throat himself.'
Winterburne faked a smile, and stared back. 'Then I'll try to defend the children for as long as I can first.'
Verkade stared at Winterburne for a moment, and then lowered his head.
Winterburne said, 'What do you say?'
Verkade paused a moment longer. 'For God's sake!' he said. 'Why is nothing in my life ever simple?'
'Is that a yes?'
'Pass me my sword.' Verkade grinned, pointing to the corner of the kitchen. 'You better mean it about an amnesty,' he said, 'or else I'll kill you myself.'
Winterburne smiled.
'What time is he coming to check up on you?' Verkade asked.
Winterburne reached into his pocket and pulled out his watch. He opened the face cover. 'In about ten minutes.'
Verkade sighed. 'Good grief.' He took the sword and buckled it to his belt. 'Well,' he said, when he was done, 'I guess I won't have time to make supper now.'
47
Winterburne knelt in front of Natalia, taking her small hand in his own. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she was shaking.
'Whatever happens,' he said, 'I need you to be brave. I need you to look after the little ones.'
'Are those people coming to hurt us?'
'They're going to try,' Winterburne said, 'but, I won't let that happen.' Despite the words, his confidence was not high, but he hoped that if nothing else he could at least make her feel better for a little while. 'I promise that I'll do everything I can to protect you.'
Kasper joined the two of them, his face was bright, and his eyes seemed full of excitement.
'I can fight,' he said.
The boy's self-confidence was obviously high and Winterburne smiled at him. Putting his hand on the boy's shoulder he said, 'I know you can my little friend, but you have a more important job to do. I'll need you here to look after the others.'
The door opened and Verkade pushed his head through the gap. Winterburne looked up at the man, their eyes meeting.
'They're here,' Verkade said.
Winterburne nodded, and looked back towards the two oldest children. 'Remember,' he said to them both, 'look after the younger ones as best you can.' He smiled. 'And be brave,' he said, tweaking Kasper's chin.
He gently encouraged the two children towards the rear corner of the room and then turned towards Verkade, drawing his sword. The steely hiss rang around the room, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the younger children flinch.
'Come on,' he said, to Verkade as he passed through the door into the passageway, 'let's do this.'
Verkade smiled and held up his own blade, closing the door to the children's room and joining Winterburne in blocking the path of whoever it was that would come through the door at the far end of the corridor. They waited in silence for long moments and then Winterburne looked across at his comrade
.
'They're taking their time,' he said.
Verkade shifted nervously. 'Do not be in such a hurry to give up your life, my friend.'
'I have no intention of doing that.'
Verkade looked back at him. 'Let us hope that you are right,' he said.
The door at the far end of the corridor opened and Conn strode through. He was laughing, and looking back over his shoulder at Spen. He had brought another of the men with him, the burly fellow that Winterburne had passed as he had entered Conn's office earlier in the day.
'Ah! Smyth,' he said. 'So, have you done it?'
'What do you think?' Winterburne replied.
'So can I take that as a ''no'', then?'
Winterburne lowered the point of his blade, directing it towards Conn.
'I knew you wouldn't have the guts, I was just saying as much to Joachem. And it looks like the Hood was right after all. Delegation is such an over-rated skill. Well, you know what they say. If you want a job done, do it yourself.' Conn smirked.
Winterburne gripped his sword as the man came closer. 'I'm not going to let you hurt them.'
Conn stopped, drawing his own blade. 'We'll see,' he said, sneering. Then he looked across at Verkade. 'And what do we have here? You've turned coat?'
'Smyth is right,' Verkade said. 'We're not going to let you do this.'
Conn looked at Spen. 'Joachem, look,' he pointed in Winterburne's direction, 'they made an army.' Both of them laughed. Conn looked back at Verkade, any sense of humour now gone. 'I'll take your head for this, cook.'
'You can try,' Verkade replied.
Conn laughed again, and looked at Winterburne this time. 'Why do you think that this man lives all his life in the kitchen, Smythie? You think his chopping skills qualifies him as the great swordsman? He is no more a warrior than my old grandma.'
Verkade pushed Winterburne aside and stepped between him and Conn. 'Care to try me out?'
'I think so, don't you?' Conn's jaw-line tightened.
Verkade reached out and opened the door to the children's room.
'Get in there,' he said to Winterburne. 'You stand a much better chance if they can only come through one at a time.'
Winterburne looked at the man, not quite knowing what to do next.
'Do it!' Verkade spat through clenched teeth. 'I'll try to give you as much time as I can.'
'Are you sure about this?'
'Just do it, will you? Before I change my mind.'
'Thank you,' Winterburne said, smiling his appreciation.
Verkade flashed his eyes at him and nodded for him to get inside.
Winterburne stepped through and the door slammed behind him. He looked around. The eyes of the children were wide, but Natalia and Kasper stood in front of the smaller children trying to console them as they sobbed.
From the other side of the door came the cries of men, and the clash of steel on steel. For long moments the sound of battle came from the hallway, and Winterburne stepped back into the room. Then as quick as it had started there was silence. Something heavy bumped against the door and then once more there was nothing. Winterburne's heart pounded as he waited for whatever came next.
The door groaned at the crash of the weight of a grown man throwing himself at it, but it held. That time at least. Winterburne stepped back a little more, but this time the door broke open wide, and the children screamed. Conn's burly man, the name of which Winterburne did not know, stood in the doorway.
The man stepped forward holding up his blade, and as he came closer Winterburne swung his own, but the man easily parried. He