COMES
Burgoyne’s finger rested on the name. ‘Diomedes?’
‘Wouldn’t surprise me if it was our late guest last night, sir. This supplies him with his agent name. The three numbers at
the end of the line – 642 – will be his number code.’
Burgoyne tapped the butt of his fork on the paper. ‘And Cato, 597?’
‘I would suggest he is Diomedes’s immediate superior. “Ink Comes” means they are moving from pure codes to codes in invisible
ink.’
‘As will we, no doubt?’
‘Indeed.’ Jack hesitated. But he felt he must try one last time. ‘Sir, I am convinced Von Schlaben is at the heart of all
this. Do you still wish him to remain … unmolested?’
‘Oh, I think so. You forget another thing, Jack. The Count is Baron von Riedesel’s cousin. We are going to have enough trouble
merging with our German allies without knocking off their commander’s kin.’ Burgoyne laughed. ‘No, my boy. You leave the Count
to me. I’ll keep him on a tight leash, believe me. And when I have learned all I need to from him, when we have discovered
all there is to know of these Illuminati, why then, my boy,’ Burgoyne stabbed his fork down, impaling the last glistening
kidney, ‘
I
will deal with him.’
Burgoyne chewed, swallowed, sighed with joy, and dropped the fork on to the plate; then he reached for his black stock. Jack
took it, moved behind.
‘Thank you, Jack.’ He began to tie the cloth around the General’s neck and Burgoyne leaned forward, pulling a maptowards him. ‘You have demonstrated once again, dear Jack, how valuable you are to me as an agent. I would keep you by my
side throughout the campaign if I could and I hate to part with you. But, much as I need you here, I have something even more
important for you to do, which will suit another of your peculiar talents. I decided not to expand on it last night in, uh,
mixed company.’ The General jabbed down at a spot on the map. ‘Know it?’
His finger rested just on the edge of a large expanse of water.
‘Lake Ontario. More specifically, I believe you are pointing at Oswego.’
‘Exactly. Oswego. A good rallying point, wouldn’t you say? Word will go out to the Six Nations of the Iroquois – and any other
savage who cares to gather there – “Come to the biggest party you’ve ever seen. Come for powder, presents, and plenty of rum.”
Should prove irresistible, what?’
Jack knew it would, and the knowledge saddened him. His Mohawk brethren, every other tribe, Iroquois or not, were now dependent
on these handouts from the Great White Father, King George. It didn’t mean they would fight, necessarily. But impressive gifts
and substantial supplies of rum were powerful persuaders.
Jack looked at the map again. The Mohawk River flowed inland, down the valley of the same name, the heartland of his adopted
people, through rich farmlands of settlers, both Loyal and Rebel, and on to a place the General had talked of the night before,
where a continent could be won.
‘You’ve seen it, ain’t ye?’
‘I believe so, sir. A third force, striking along the Mohawk. To rendezvous with you and General Howe at Albany.’
‘Ah, Jack! You should have stayed in the army, my boy, not run off to India to make money. You’d have been a general yourself
by now.’
‘I couldn’t have afforded the purchases.’ Jack still stared down at the map. ‘And the size of the expedition?’
‘A small force of Regulars. Perhaps some Germans. Can’t spare many from the main thrust. But there’ll be two Loyalist regiments
at least and our friend Skene assures me that the Mohawk Valley is filled with others waiting to rally to our standards. But
the main threat will come from your Indians.’ Burgoyne, his stock finished, rose and laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘Dazzled
by our generosity, they’ll sign up in droves. I’ve already sent to that Iroquois leader, Joseph Brant. You know him, don’t
Aubrianna Hunter
B.C.CHASE
Piper Davenport
Leah Ashton
Michael Nicholson
Marteeka Karland
Simon Brown
Jean Plaidy
Jennifer Erin Valent
Nick Lake