chair once more. “You want the cannon? Got six balls for it, too. Six. And the powder and fuses, o’course. Got a damn fine eagle stamped into the barrel. Real pretty.”
“Tempting as that prospect is, Jasper, no, I think not. But I am wondering something. How badly do you wish to return to England?”
“Not bad enough to hang.”
“Ah, but you were injured, Jasper. Grievously injured, cut off—no, abandoned—by your company, left to die. It’s only now, healed once more, that you are strong enough to return to your homeland. Why, Jasper, you’re a hero.”
Jasper grinned. “Is that so?”
“You most certainly are. And I, a member of Wellington’s own staff, will swear to it,” Rian told him, lifting his wine glass in a salute. “If, that is, you agree to accompany Miss Lisette and myself to Dover.”
“Dover, is it? Jasper isn’t all that good with such things as maps. A soldier like Jasper, he just marches where he’s pointed. And how far would that this Dover be from Shrewsbury?”
“Far enough. You’re not a forgettable man I grant you, Jasper Coggins, but there are places in England where a man can live out his life happily without ever seeing Shrewsbury again. I come from one of them.”
“Do you, now,” the big man said, folding the ham shanks that were his arms over his broad chest. “Would there be the need of a smithy in this place you come from?”
Rian shook his head, thinking of Waylon, their own smithy in Becket Village. “No, I’m sorry. But Waylon’s getting on in years, and perhaps he could use an assistant who could possibly lift up the entire horse while he shoes him?”
Jasper’s smile was so wide it was as if someone had just lit several candles in the small dining room. “That’d do Jasper well enough. Weren’t no smithy in Shrewsbury. Just the helper. Told you, Jasper’s a liar. So where is this place so far from Shrewsbury?”
Rian had been taught never to say more than was necessary about his home, but Jasper Coggins was the sort of man who would fit Becket Village like a glove. Alone in the world, not averse to bending the king’s laws. “My family’s home, Jasper, in Romney Marsh. If you help me return there with…with my friend, there will be a welcome and few questions waiting for you there. After all,” he said, grinning, “you saved my life.”
“Is that a fact?” Jasper comically peered into the bottom of his empty tankard. “Luis is making this swill stronger. Jasper’s head is swimmin’. Because he don’t remember doin’ no such thing.”
“Don’t worry about that. My friend—Lisette—is what you’d call a fair treat at making up stories. We’ll have a grand one for you by the time we leave here tomorrow morning. If you’re willing. And whether you choose to stay in Romney Marsh or not, there will be a fine reward for delivering me safely there. That I can promise you.”
Jasper wrinkled his brow, clearly in deep thought. He sat that way for some minutes while Rian mentally counted up the benefits of having a man-mountain like Jasper in his employ.
At last Jasper said, “We’ll be wantin’ more’n the one pistol, the one sword. Won’t we, Lieutenant? For this angry father?”
“Possibly, Jasper. I won’t say there will be no danger involved in accompanying Lisette and me to the coast, getting us safely to England.”
“From the father,” Jasper said flatly. “You know, Lieutenant, Jasper may not look it so much, but he didn’t come down in the last rain, neither. He’s smarter than that. Sometimes takes a while, but Jasper knows how to think. And Jasper looks at you, and wonders. Ain’t lookin’ so good, Lieutenant, sir, if Jasper can say so. Kind of white around the gills. You been sick? Maybe locked up, away from the sun? Ain’t no father lookin’ for you, is there? Somebody else. Somebody bad. That’s why you want Jasper to help you get clear of this place. Ain’t none of this for love, now is
“Tempting as that prospect is, Jasper, no, I think not. But I am wondering something. How badly do you wish to return to England?”
“Not bad enough to hang.”
“Ah, but you were injured, Jasper. Grievously injured, cut off—no, abandoned—by your company, left to die. It’s only now, healed once more, that you are strong enough to return to your homeland. Why, Jasper, you’re a hero.”
Jasper grinned. “Is that so?”
“You most certainly are. And I, a member of Wellington’s own staff, will swear to it,” Rian told him, lifting his wine glass in a salute. “If, that is, you agree to accompany Miss Lisette and myself to Dover.”
“Dover, is it? Jasper isn’t all that good with such things as maps. A soldier like Jasper, he just marches where he’s pointed. And how far would that this Dover be from Shrewsbury?”
“Far enough. You’re not a forgettable man I grant you, Jasper Coggins, but there are places in England where a man can live out his life happily without ever seeing Shrewsbury again. I come from one of them.”
“Do you, now,” the big man said, folding the ham shanks that were his arms over his broad chest. “Would there be the need of a smithy in this place you come from?”
Rian shook his head, thinking of Waylon, their own smithy in Becket Village. “No, I’m sorry. But Waylon’s getting on in years, and perhaps he could use an assistant who could possibly lift up the entire horse while he shoes him?”
Jasper’s smile was so wide it was as if someone had just lit several candles in the small dining room. “That’d do Jasper well enough. Weren’t no smithy in Shrewsbury. Just the helper. Told you, Jasper’s a liar. So where is this place so far from Shrewsbury?”
Rian had been taught never to say more than was necessary about his home, but Jasper Coggins was the sort of man who would fit Becket Village like a glove. Alone in the world, not averse to bending the king’s laws. “My family’s home, Jasper, in Romney Marsh. If you help me return there with…with my friend, there will be a welcome and few questions waiting for you there. After all,” he said, grinning, “you saved my life.”
“Is that a fact?” Jasper comically peered into the bottom of his empty tankard. “Luis is making this swill stronger. Jasper’s head is swimmin’. Because he don’t remember doin’ no such thing.”
“Don’t worry about that. My friend—Lisette—is what you’d call a fair treat at making up stories. We’ll have a grand one for you by the time we leave here tomorrow morning. If you’re willing. And whether you choose to stay in Romney Marsh or not, there will be a fine reward for delivering me safely there. That I can promise you.”
Jasper wrinkled his brow, clearly in deep thought. He sat that way for some minutes while Rian mentally counted up the benefits of having a man-mountain like Jasper in his employ.
At last Jasper said, “We’ll be wantin’ more’n the one pistol, the one sword. Won’t we, Lieutenant? For this angry father?”
“Possibly, Jasper. I won’t say there will be no danger involved in accompanying Lisette and me to the coast, getting us safely to England.”
“From the father,” Jasper said flatly. “You know, Lieutenant, Jasper may not look it so much, but he didn’t come down in the last rain, neither. He’s smarter than that. Sometimes takes a while, but Jasper knows how to think. And Jasper looks at you, and wonders. Ain’t lookin’ so good, Lieutenant, sir, if Jasper can say so. Kind of white around the gills. You been sick? Maybe locked up, away from the sun? Ain’t no father lookin’ for you, is there? Somebody else. Somebody bad. That’s why you want Jasper to help you get clear of this place. Ain’t none of this for love, now is
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