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Authors: Michael Arnold
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is the purpose of a masquerade if our faces are exposed? I would not insult our host by removing my guise." He noted Maddocks' disgruntled shrug, allowed himself a tiny smile, and continued. "But I will tell you that business is well, thank you. The trade thrives, I thrive. The hills hereabouts are ideal for pasture."
"And you've received no trouble?"
"Trouble?"
"Bandits, Sir Ardell," Maddocks replied earnestly. "Brigands. Footpads. Call them what you will."
"Vermin."
"Aye, vermin," Maddocks echoed, eyes gleaming as though they belonged to a fox. "To be exterminated."
"Please God."
"They've not harassed your work?"
Lyle paused for effect. "Oh, they have, to be sure. And it's affected my profits, I don't mind telling you." He gazed across the bench at the colonel, imagining what Grumm might say if he knew he were stringing the Mad Ox along in this manner. "One in particular."
Colonel Maddocks sat back, balling his fists. "The Ironside Highwayman."
Lyle nodded. "The same, sir. By God, I shall skin him alive when he is caught. String the knave up by his entrails."
"Not if I catch him first," Maddocks replied darkly.
"Do you think you will?"
The door swung inward suddenly and both men fell silent as a couple bowled in from the ballroom. They seemed to hang off one another like a pair of old soaks outside a tavern, before the woman, resplendent in billowing blue and yellow, took her young companion by the wrist and dragged him through another door and out into the labyrinthine passageways beyond.
"Be sure of it, sir," Maddocks said when the couple's laughter had faded. "It is purely a matter of time." He stood suddenly, issuing a tight bow. "Part of my task is to make myself known to those I am charged to protect, so I am pleased we are now acquainted. But now I must see to the men. One can never be too careful."
"You do not think Lyle will strike tonight, though, Colonel?" Lyle said, staring up at the soldier. "Not here."
"One can never be certain where that villain is concerned." Maddocks blew out his cheeks, wide nostrils flaring. "I am not fond of masquerades, Sir Ardell. In my view, the likes of that young pair," he indicated the far doorway through which the laughing couple had vanished, "are little more than preening popinjays and wanton harlots. The very epitome of that which we fought to eradicate." He offered a weary shrug. "But they are valued by my masters, and I must see that they are left in peace by this nation's less desirable elements. There are those who would steal the very shoes from their feet, let alone the jewels from their fingers and necks."
"It is a rich prize, I readily concede," Lyle replied, labouring his incredulity, "but there is as much cold steel here as warm gold. The Ironside Highwayman is a mongrel of the road. Such a dog would not bite so large a beast, Colonel."
Maddocks gave a rueful smile. "He is no common villain, Sir Ardell. He cares not for mere thievery. His targets are the new elite. The people of the rebellion. Those whose stars rose as the old regime's fell. Men such as Sir John. Men like us. If I were him, I would be sniffing out this place like a fox eyeing the largest hen-house in the land."
Lyle stood, extending a velvet-gloved hand for Maddocks to shake. "He'll not get past the likes of you, sir."
"You flatter me, Sir Ardell."
"You are not to be trifled with, Colonel, and he knows it. And there are others here. Hippisley himself marched with Cromwell, did he not? Hinton Ampner is this night filled with the men who made the rebellion. Won it." Grumm's disapproving face resolved in his mind's eye, and he inwardly smiled, adding, "Heroes all."
"Well it is kind in you to say," Maddocks said, making for the doorway that would take him back to the ballroom. To the surprise of both men, the door burst open before he reached it, through which blundered a tall man draped in voluminous robes the colour of salmon, his face obscured by a long, hooked beak that was
"And you've received no trouble?"
"Trouble?"
"Bandits, Sir Ardell," Maddocks replied earnestly. "Brigands. Footpads. Call them what you will."
"Vermin."
"Aye, vermin," Maddocks echoed, eyes gleaming as though they belonged to a fox. "To be exterminated."
"Please God."
"They've not harassed your work?"
Lyle paused for effect. "Oh, they have, to be sure. And it's affected my profits, I don't mind telling you." He gazed across the bench at the colonel, imagining what Grumm might say if he knew he were stringing the Mad Ox along in this manner. "One in particular."
Colonel Maddocks sat back, balling his fists. "The Ironside Highwayman."
Lyle nodded. "The same, sir. By God, I shall skin him alive when he is caught. String the knave up by his entrails."
"Not if I catch him first," Maddocks replied darkly.
"Do you think you will?"
The door swung inward suddenly and both men fell silent as a couple bowled in from the ballroom. They seemed to hang off one another like a pair of old soaks outside a tavern, before the woman, resplendent in billowing blue and yellow, took her young companion by the wrist and dragged him through another door and out into the labyrinthine passageways beyond.
"Be sure of it, sir," Maddocks said when the couple's laughter had faded. "It is purely a matter of time." He stood suddenly, issuing a tight bow. "Part of my task is to make myself known to those I am charged to protect, so I am pleased we are now acquainted. But now I must see to the men. One can never be too careful."
"You do not think Lyle will strike tonight, though, Colonel?" Lyle said, staring up at the soldier. "Not here."
"One can never be certain where that villain is concerned." Maddocks blew out his cheeks, wide nostrils flaring. "I am not fond of masquerades, Sir Ardell. In my view, the likes of that young pair," he indicated the far doorway through which the laughing couple had vanished, "are little more than preening popinjays and wanton harlots. The very epitome of that which we fought to eradicate." He offered a weary shrug. "But they are valued by my masters, and I must see that they are left in peace by this nation's less desirable elements. There are those who would steal the very shoes from their feet, let alone the jewels from their fingers and necks."
"It is a rich prize, I readily concede," Lyle replied, labouring his incredulity, "but there is as much cold steel here as warm gold. The Ironside Highwayman is a mongrel of the road. Such a dog would not bite so large a beast, Colonel."
Maddocks gave a rueful smile. "He is no common villain, Sir Ardell. He cares not for mere thievery. His targets are the new elite. The people of the rebellion. Those whose stars rose as the old regime's fell. Men such as Sir John. Men like us. If I were him, I would be sniffing out this place like a fox eyeing the largest hen-house in the land."
Lyle stood, extending a velvet-gloved hand for Maddocks to shake. "He'll not get past the likes of you, sir."
"You flatter me, Sir Ardell."
"You are not to be trifled with, Colonel, and he knows it. And there are others here. Hippisley himself marched with Cromwell, did he not? Hinton Ampner is this night filled with the men who made the rebellion. Won it." Grumm's disapproving face resolved in his mind's eye, and he inwardly smiled, adding, "Heroes all."
"Well it is kind in you to say," Maddocks said, making for the doorway that would take him back to the ballroom. To the surprise of both men, the door burst open before he reached it, through which blundered a tall man draped in voluminous robes the colour of salmon, his face obscured by a long, hooked beak that was
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