The Mammoth Book of Historical Crime Fic - By Mike Ashley Page 0,114

taking the time to run his fingers across the edge of the secret door. He could not help but admire the skill required to conceal the join so well. To all but the most experienced eyes there was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen here. Noyce may be insolent, he thought, but the man clearly knew his business.

*

By noon the next day two more holes had been breached, and each was empty. The first was concealed beneath the floorboards of the vestibule, cleverly placed so close to the front door that it was almost outside rather than being buried within the heart of the house as might be expected. The second was in the pantry, concealed behind the heavy stone walls of the under-croft and with access provided by a hatch cut into the back of a high shelf. The priest hiding there would require the dexterity only to be found in a young man, and, from the size of the hiding place itself, Noyce could only assume the architect intended it for the concealment of a boy.

Despite the cupboards being bare, Sir Henry continued to be impressed with the priest hunter’s abilities, at one point comparing him to a terrier let loose in a rabbit warren, albeit a warren which lacked rabbits. By the time the third of the day’s discoveries was made – the largest of them all – inside a fireplace, the Justice began to worry that the birds had flown. Noyce paused only to enquire whether Sir Henry would prefer him to find birds or rabbits before continuing with his search.

*

“I want no more than twelve men remaining,” insisted Sir Henry, as he rode along the ragged line of men. It had been three full days since he first arrived here, at the gates to the house. Although Noyce had succeeded in sniffing out four hiding places, not one of them had produced a fugitive. He did not doubt that, given enough time, the man would find every secret space in the house. But further delay would not impress his superiors in London, and with every passing day so his own costs mounted. Noyce was right; it was an expensive business to keep soldiers in the field. He contented himself with the thought that if the fugitives were still bottled up, and pray God they were, then there was nothing that a dozen of them couldn’t do as well as a hundred.

The priest hunter was watching the activity at the gate from a window in the long gallery. He was pleased to see yet more men being sent away and, having won the confidence of the Justice, was looking forward to making his move before the evening was out.

The captain yelled orders to the men, who, with no great hurry, organized themselves into marching order and began to move off. Progress along the track was halted almost immediately by a party of riders approaching at speed. The men on foot stood aside as the horsemen cantered along the centre of the track without so much as a sideways glance.

“Who in God’s name is this?” asked Sir Henry, to no one in particular.

“I have no inkling sir,” said the captain, “but they look to be carrying enough armour to equip a small army.”

“I fear that is exactly what they are captain,” said Sir Henry, who had a dreadful sense of foreboding about the new arrivals. Could it be that news of his lack of success had already reached his superiors? Whatever the motive behind this unexpected development, the grim expression on the face of the lead rider did not bode well.

There were half a dozen of them on tall military mounts, all breastplates and thigh-covering tassets, though the man in front was marked out not by his armour, of which he wore none, but by the austerity of his dress, which lacked both collar and cuff. He pulled up his horse in front of Sir Henry’s mount and gave an eye to the house before speaking.

“You will be Sir Henry Bromely?”

“I am sir, and those are my men you just forced off the road.”

The newcomer cast a glance over his shoulder. “On their way home are they? Can we presume then that your task is complete?”

The colour was rising in Sir Henry’s cheeks; he had suffered enough impertinence over these past days. “Whatever my task might be I am hardly likely to report its results to persons unknown. Now who in blazes are you and