last.
“Yes,” Colin agreed. With one of their number dead, reinforcements would have to be called in. “Do you think the Serraray will strike at us again?”
Strathmore shook his head. “They have tipped their hand too early, I think, and they would be fools not to realize it.” His tone implied that he had lost some respect for their foes. “Perhaps they believed Yates would last longer. Perhaps they thought they might get actionable information out of him, and perhaps they did. Either they will move on to their true target, the princess, or they will go to ground now, and we will not see them again until they are ready to act.”
“Someone must go to Hafeley and inform the princess’s guard.”
“Let me,” Strathmore said immediately. “I am not afraid to face the Serraray if they do try to stop me, but I do not believe they will. And you are right—Sir John must be informed immediately. Perhaps he can be persuaded to take the princess and return to London,” he speculated, though both men knew there was little chance of Sir John Conroy straying from his carefully planned path. “Either way, he must know of this today. I will go directly from the village once we have seen Yates’s body safely to the doctor’s rooms.”
“I think that would be best,” Colin said. “But be careful, Strathmore.”
“Of course,” the young man said, and now he lifted the edge of his coat so that Colin could see the pistol he carried at his waist. Colin had never particularly cared for guns or for shooting, though he had of course learned at Townsley, where the hunt was one of his father’s chief pleasures. To Colin, it had always seemed rather unsportsmanlike to fight a man with a weapon that did not put oneself at equal risk with one’s opponent. He knew this was a chivalrous, antiquated view, but he clung to it. Still, he was considering searching out the gun room when he returned to the great house, for it seemed there was more at stake than just his own life now.
When they reached the village and the doctor had laid Yates’s body out on the slab, Strathmore took one last look at his friend. Then he went out into the street and climbed back on his horse to ride the four hours to Hafeley. Colin followed him out. “Don’t take unnecessary risks,” he advised.
“Yes, My Lord,” Strathmore said.
“Well then. Godspeed, Strathmore.”
Then the man was off, tearing down the street and out of the village. Colin went back into the doctor’s rooms, where the man himself was standing over the body. “How soon until you know a cause of death?”
The doctor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I am not well trained in this area, My Lord. Morning, probably. There’s a good deal of bruising that might hide other wounds, and he’ll have to be cleaned. But I can tell you this: it wasn’t pretty.” The doctor paused, staring down at the body for a moment before looking up at Colin. “Is there a murderer in our midst, My Lord? Should the villagers be warned?”
Just then there was a knock at the door. A stout man clothed in black entered.
“This is the rector, Mr. Loden,” the doctor said.
“My Lord,” the rector began, looking past Colin at the mutilated body. “I heard the news. There are rumors flying all over the village. I wanted to come and see what the people might be told to ease their worries.”
Colin looked from the rector to the doctor and back. “Nothing that will be of much comfort, I’m afraid,” he said. “They should be on the lookout for any strangers in town. They are really no danger to the villagers, these men, not unless someone gets in their way. Still, everyone should be warned to bar their doors at night and not go out after dark.”
The rector nodded. “I will make sure the villagers know. Perhaps tomorrow at church we might say a prayer for this young man’s soul. Do you know his name?”
“John Yates,” Colin said. “That would be most welcome, Mr. Loden. Thank
“Yes,” Colin agreed. With one of their number dead, reinforcements would have to be called in. “Do you think the Serraray will strike at us again?”
Strathmore shook his head. “They have tipped their hand too early, I think, and they would be fools not to realize it.” His tone implied that he had lost some respect for their foes. “Perhaps they believed Yates would last longer. Perhaps they thought they might get actionable information out of him, and perhaps they did. Either they will move on to their true target, the princess, or they will go to ground now, and we will not see them again until they are ready to act.”
“Someone must go to Hafeley and inform the princess’s guard.”
“Let me,” Strathmore said immediately. “I am not afraid to face the Serraray if they do try to stop me, but I do not believe they will. And you are right—Sir John must be informed immediately. Perhaps he can be persuaded to take the princess and return to London,” he speculated, though both men knew there was little chance of Sir John Conroy straying from his carefully planned path. “Either way, he must know of this today. I will go directly from the village once we have seen Yates’s body safely to the doctor’s rooms.”
“I think that would be best,” Colin said. “But be careful, Strathmore.”
“Of course,” the young man said, and now he lifted the edge of his coat so that Colin could see the pistol he carried at his waist. Colin had never particularly cared for guns or for shooting, though he had of course learned at Townsley, where the hunt was one of his father’s chief pleasures. To Colin, it had always seemed rather unsportsmanlike to fight a man with a weapon that did not put oneself at equal risk with one’s opponent. He knew this was a chivalrous, antiquated view, but he clung to it. Still, he was considering searching out the gun room when he returned to the great house, for it seemed there was more at stake than just his own life now.
When they reached the village and the doctor had laid Yates’s body out on the slab, Strathmore took one last look at his friend. Then he went out into the street and climbed back on his horse to ride the four hours to Hafeley. Colin followed him out. “Don’t take unnecessary risks,” he advised.
“Yes, My Lord,” Strathmore said.
“Well then. Godspeed, Strathmore.”
Then the man was off, tearing down the street and out of the village. Colin went back into the doctor’s rooms, where the man himself was standing over the body. “How soon until you know a cause of death?”
The doctor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I am not well trained in this area, My Lord. Morning, probably. There’s a good deal of bruising that might hide other wounds, and he’ll have to be cleaned. But I can tell you this: it wasn’t pretty.” The doctor paused, staring down at the body for a moment before looking up at Colin. “Is there a murderer in our midst, My Lord? Should the villagers be warned?”
Just then there was a knock at the door. A stout man clothed in black entered.
“This is the rector, Mr. Loden,” the doctor said.
“My Lord,” the rector began, looking past Colin at the mutilated body. “I heard the news. There are rumors flying all over the village. I wanted to come and see what the people might be told to ease their worries.”
Colin looked from the rector to the doctor and back. “Nothing that will be of much comfort, I’m afraid,” he said. “They should be on the lookout for any strangers in town. They are really no danger to the villagers, these men, not unless someone gets in their way. Still, everyone should be warned to bar their doors at night and not go out after dark.”
The rector nodded. “I will make sure the villagers know. Perhaps tomorrow at church we might say a prayer for this young man’s soul. Do you know his name?”
“John Yates,” Colin said. “That would be most welcome, Mr. Loden. Thank
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