History, Politics And Current Affairs

1669 - The Green Grass of Home

Manor House of Avebury, England, 1669

The ha-ha looked a lot better than the last time he had driven through it. The stone wall to one side was neatly trimmed, the plant growths pulled out and the stones themselves relaid. The high grass banks, previously unkempt and showing the first signs of overgrowth, had now been weeded and the grass reseeded. It still had a long way to go of course, but 'well begun was half done' thought Sir Toby Huxtable, relishing the cliche as he rolled it around in his mind. Then, he felt the sounds of his carriage change slightly as the road through the ha-ha started to slope upwards. This was the part he enjoyed watching from his own home, how a carriage would appear to emerge from the ground as it left the ha-ha and started on the proper drive.

The drive had been repaired as well, he thought. Weeded and raked. Needed new gravel of course but a great improvement on his last visit. That had been under the old Lord of the Manor of course. The family had been ruined by the Commonwealth and been unable to pay for the repairs made necessary by years of neglect. Eventually theyd given up and sold the title to a new family, one few people seemed to know much about. That was one reason why Sir Toby was making this visit. To introduce himself as Sheriff of Avebury to the new Lord of the Manor and, quietly, to size the man up. Sheriff and Lord of the Manor were partners in the daily running of the community and each had his own part to play but for years Sir Toby had been forced to carry the burden alone. He was hoping the new Lord of the Manor would change that.

The condition of the Manor House was also a great improvement although here the work was obviously very much still in progress. One section of roof had been stripped and was being resurfaced, other workmen were repainting window frames and doors. Sir Toby had guessed work was being done by the number of craftsmen being hired but this was beyond his expectations. 'Many hands make light work', he thought. A very good sign indeed. The steps up to the front door had already been repaired, that was good for last time hed been here, hed nearly tripped over a misplaced stone, one crumbled by bad weather and neglect.

His footman had lowered the carriage step and assisted Sir Toby down. It wasn't quite necessary for, although Huxtable knew himself to be a portly man, he was still quite fit for his age and station in life. The door opened as he approached and he was ushered into the reception hall.

"Sir Toby Huxtable, Sheriff of Avebury. I believe Sir Stewart and Lady Lillith Parmenio are At Home today?"

"Indeed so Sir. Your cloak and hat Sir?"

"Thank you...... My apologies, you are?"

"Gusoyn, Sir, Major-domo of the household. If you will come with me Sir."

Huxtable followed the Major-domo down the hall, most favorably impressed. Gusoyn had been courteous and respectful without being obsequious. Huxtable wasn't quite sure who he despised more, the grovellingly obsequious or those who demanded such behavior of others. 'Like master, like man' ran through Huxtable's mind and his estimation of Parmenio rose. There was music coming from the other side of the drawing room door, a harpsichord, played beautifully. So much so that it was a pleasure when Gusoyn opened the door and it could be heard at its best - and a crushing disappointment when the musician stopped for his introduction.

"Sir Toby Huxtable, Sheriff of Avebury."

"Sir Toby, it is indeed a pleasure to meet with you. Thank you Gusoyn. May I offer you a refreshment, a Madeira perhaps? Or a sherry?"

"A sherry would be most agreeable. May I ask a small favor? Would the young lady on the harpsichord resume playing. I am bound to admit I have rarely heard such skill."

"Yes of course Sir Toby. May I introduce my cousin, Messalina. Messalina, Sir Toby was most complimentary of your musicianship and wished to hear more?"

Messalina rose from her stool and bobbed a curtsey. "Why thank you Sir Toby. You are too kind. Do you have any particular favorites I can play for you?"

Huxtable returned the gesture with a gallant bow. "Finishing the piece you were playing would delight me mdear. May I ask something? Your music seemed deeper, fuller somehow, than the average? The tune is unfamiliar to me but there was more to it than that and your exquisite skill."

Messalina flushed slightly. "The tune is a very old one Sire, a traditional air from my home town. The tone, Sire, is the achievement of the maker, Andreas Ruckers the Elder, of Antwerp. The Flemish harpsichord has longer strings under greater tension and a better soundboard so it has a fuller sound than the Italian style. This instrument is new to me and I am only just learning to take advantage of it." She resumed playing, picking up exactly from where she had left off. Huxtable closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting the gentle music surround him.

"Your sherry Sir Toby. Perhaps you could return the favor? Your taste in sherry is famous, an honest opinion on this perhaps? The local dealers are strange to me." Huxtable sipped the amber liquid and looked sharply at Parmenio. "Your honest opinion, Sir Toby? "

"Your dealer was too keen to take a profit on his investment. This should have been allowed to mature longer. Sharp and lacks body. May I use your desk?" Parmenio nodded and Huxtable took a quill, wetted it, then wrote quickly. "This is the name of my dealer, I have found him reliable and of good character. Tell him I sent you and he will ensure you are well-stocked."

"Why, thank you Sir Toby. You are most kind. May I introduce my wife, Lady Lillith Parmenio?"

"Charmed m'Lady. I was most impressed by the work thats been achieved here in the short time since your family moved in. A long step at least towards restoring the Manor house to its former glory and beyond. You prefer the Florentine style?"

"My husbands family comes from Florence Sir Toby and we have brought much of the taste with us." Huxtable found himself fascinated by Lilliths voice, quiet and deferential as became a Lady of Quality but rich and with authority behind it. And a tantalizing hint of a foreign accent. A voice that could only be described as seductive. "I apologize for the display on the wall behind you." The richness was now tinged with amusement.

"Yes, Sir Toby, I intend to have those taken down and donated to the local blacksmith for conversion into something useful. Cartwheel rims perhaps."

Huxtable snorted with laughter. "My apologies." He looked at the wall again. "Not those bows though. Those are the real thing. And old too I see. With your permission, may I examine one?"

"Of course." Parmenio reached up and detached the bow from its hooks on the wall. As he did so, he reflected that if the affable Sir Toby learned of this bows history he would pass out with shock. "Here, it is strung and can be drawn."

Mentally, Huxtable whistled at the weapon in his hands. The wood was old, very old, but was beautifully preserved. "In the Parthian style. I've heard of these but never seen one." He took the approved longbow grip and pulled. The string moved a little but that was all. "My word Sir, the pull on this is something fierce."

"There is a trick to it." Huxtable was amazed that it was Lady Lillith who answered. "Your pull came from the shoulder with the strength of the arm. To draw this bow, you must use the whole strength of your upper body. Push with your left arm while pulling with your right and twist from the waist while you do it. Here let me show you." She took the bow, caught a breath and drew. The bowstring slid smoothly back to the fire position. "Now you try." Huxtable took the bow and copied her movement. The bow resisted his movement for a second then, as he understood how he was supposed to draw, it slid into position.

"My Lady, that is a powerful bow indeed. How does it compare to a longbow?"

"It lacks the power and range but it is smaller of course. More suited to use from horseback. Soon we will have archery butts set up here and perhaps you would like to try it then?"

"Indeed so. A much-appreciated invitation I would be delighted to accept. Sir Stewart, that sword also, appears genuine but it's not like any gladius Ive ever seen."

"It's a Spatha, a Roman cavalry sword. Same principle as a gladius but longer." Parmenio looked over his shoulder at a woman standing by the door, apparently a maid. She nodded slightly. The two bows were just weapons but the Spatha was part of what was left of Achillea's soul. If there was anything left, a point on which Parmenio had never come to a conclusion. "Would you like to try it?"

"Why, thank you." Huxtable took the sword and dropped into a classical fencing position. Behind him, Achillea winced at the misuse of her beloved sword. "It is very heavy and its balance doesnt feel right?"

"It's a very different sword from a rapier, that's designed only for thrusting. The Spatha is intended for both cut and thrust, more like a sabre."

"Sir Toby, may I introduce my cousin, Lady Naamah Sammale?" Lillith had been joined by another woman, one with stunningly beautiful red hair. Not the orange carrot-like color that so often went by the name of red but a deep rich crimson, the sort seen in finely polished cedar.. Sir Toby took the Naamah's hand, noting she kept her head dipped and her eyes were hooded. An excess of modesty perhaps?

"It is indeed a pleasure to meet you, my Lady. Are you from Florence also?"

"No Sir Toby, my family comes from Hungary. After the Turkish invasions, we wandered for a while before settling down."

"And your husband? Will he be joining us?"

"Sadly no, Sire. My husband is with the Navy and is away on duty. I fear we may be separated for some years."

"That is cruel to deprive a wife for so long."

"No sire." Naamah spoke sharply. "My family were refugees, England took us in, gave us a home, security and protection. If she asks a few years of service from us, then is this such a high price to expect in return? I think not sire." Naamahs last few words were indignant and she watched Huxtable carefully, wondering if she'd gone too far.

"Well said My Lady!" Huxtables voice was warm with admiration and approval. "I wish some of the popinjays in London who are so proud of their cynicism could hear you. They would be too shamed to show their faces, I'll be bound. Sir Stewart, with your permission, I would like to raise a glass to the Lady Naamah. Its an honor to hear her speak!"

Drawing Room, Manor House of Avebury

"Relax everybody, the Lodge is tyled." Gusoyn, Achillea, let me pour you a drink, you deserve it." Parmenio poured glasses of Sherry for the two 'servants'. "Lillith, you have that address. Well see the wine merchant tomorrow and stock up on drinkables. Best way to make a friend is to let him do us a favor and we need to be friends with Sir Toby."

"He's a walking cliche library. I lost count of how many he came out with."

"Lillith, don't let that fool you. Remember, it took him just one glance to pick the three genuine weapons on that wall out from the fakes and scarcely more time to start to understand how to use them. Beneath that bluff exterior is a very sharp man. People, don't underestimate him or any of the other country gentlemen we meet. The outward show of being bluff, hearty but simple, country folk is just that, a show. They and their kin are well on the way to dominating the world and they're doing it by sheer ability. Theyre also fast recovering from a civil war that would have wrecked any other country. Anyway, Lillith, how are we doing. What's the damage to our finances?"

"More or less what we expected, which is to say, we are putting a new definition on the concept of excess expenditure. Buying you the Lord of the Manorship, rebuilding this place, getting us all moved in, its putting a huge hole in our cash reserves. Fortunately, our friends in Switzerland are moving the money in faster than we can spend it but its going to take years to recover the investment. That brings us to another point. The rents and dues from the farmers, they're the Manors primary source of income. They haven't been paid for years. Should we collect the overdue monies?"

Gusoyn shook his head. "I'd say no. Forgive the debts. The people here probably can't pay the backlog and it would ruin them to try. Better we tell everybody what's past is past and we start from a clean slate. Thatll make us popular right from the start."

"It's a lot of money to forgive and we need it. We're rich, individually and collectively but we cant carry on bleeding money the way we are now. Still Gusoyn's right. Seer, I recommend we do as he says and forgive the local debts. I doubt if we can collect them anyway and we'd end up looking foolish."

"I agree. Everybody else? That's good, I'll ask Sir Toby to make an official announcement to that effect. Adding that payment of rents and dues will recommence as from the first of next month. That'll get us some income at least. If anybody else can come up with some ideas for generating income, please do so."

"How about organizing peasant-hunting parties?"

"I think you mean pheasants Achillea?" Gusoyns voice was amused.

"No. Peasants."

There was a laugh around the room. "Sorry Achillea, we're not German princes, we can't do that. But renting out the grounds for pheasant shooting or other hunting is a good thought. Well have to find out what else is going on in that area around here."

"Seer, Sir Toby, how does he relate to us? Is he above, below, equal?"

"Technically, he's immediately below me. The Lord of the Manor runs the community, the Sheriff enforces the law and looks after the administration. In reality, we're partners. I'm the law and he's the police. I'm also the local magistrate by the way. That's why he came today, he wanted to see what sort of people we were. I understand he's been on his own for the last few years and I guess he wants to get back to the proper ways of doing things. You ought to know, his wife died in childbed a year or so ago."

"Aha." Naamah and Messalina glanced at eachother with a competitive air.

"Naamah, you've talked yourself out of the running. You're the wife of an absent naval officer remember. In the eyes of the people here, honor demands that you respect that. Any impropriety on your part would be a major scandal." Naamah grimaced. Messalina, "Sir Toby was quite taken with you so if you wish to cultivate him, thats fine. Just don't let him propose to you; marriage here is very much about providing heirs and thats not something we can do. In fact, Messalina, it would be good if you could get close to Sir Toby. The rule here seems to be that as long as everybody is discrete, a liaison would be accepted on the understanding of a hasty marriage if the lady gets pregnant. We don't have to worry about that of course."

"Another thing, Seer, I've had word from Nefertiti. Her party is on its way and they should be arriving in a month or so. Dido and her companions are already in London, and she's trying to catch Good King Charles eye. She sent word, she thinks she's spotted another one of us, a young woman in the court called Nell. A favorite of the King already. Once some more of the group are here, we can start spreading out. I'm not happy being so concentrated here.

"I agree, we want to disperse a bit. This place can remain our center though, its well-sited and agreeable. The house is big enough to hold a goodly number of us and we can use that to advantage. Oh, another thing. Sir Toby was telling me the village fair is this Sunday, after Church. We'll be expected to attend of course, probably Ill have to make a speech and well progress around the show, admiring the livestock and so on. All of you, pick up what gossip you can while we do so.

"One last thing, apparently its the Lord of the Manors duty to read the first lesson in Church on Sunday. I think we'd all better be Christians from now on, Gusoyn, Achillea, you two find out in the village exactly what sort of Christian goes down well here."

"Do you know what the lesson is Seer?"

"From Judges, about Gideon."

"Oh him!" Naamahs voice was scornful. "That was a bit before you arrived in Shyt'tin, Lillith. A Hibaru leader, wanted to challenge Sammael. Most of the Hibaru army deserted the night before the battle and Sammael's infantry wiped the floor with what was left. Not one of the Hibaru's better moments. Still, I think we'd better keep that to ourselves. I suggest we keep to the authorized version."

Avebury Fair, Somerset, England

"The lesson went down well." Lillith's voice was quiet, pitched so it didnt carry. Few people realized that whispers carried further than a voice kept low and soft. Even allowing for the pitch, her comment was laced with sarcasm. "You'd make a good diplomat."

"Cease your insults woman or I'll have you bridled. I can, you know, I'm the law around here." Despite his apparently harsh words Parmenios voice was affectionate and amused.

Lillith was looking sideways at him, out of the corner of her eyes, with a definite you wouldn't dare expression mixed with the merriment on her face. "I knew you would go mad with power eventually." She thought for a second, remembering the rusty metal cage they'd found ina cellar crowded with rubbish that had collected for centuries. "Laws like that don't apply to us, surely?"

Parmenio checked around carefully. Nobody was in earshot. "Us as in us, or us as in country gentry?"

"Us as in the family of the Lord of the Manor."

"No, we're mostly above things like that. Most people assume that people of Quality, even minor gentry like us, don't need behavior laws to keep them on the straight and narrow. We're assumed to know how to conduct ourselves. Social ostracism for misbehavior is a much more powerful deterrent. If Naamah, for example, in her role as the wife of an absent naval officer was to get caught having an affair with Sir Toby, shed be totally cut off. Nobody would speak to her or even recognize her existence. Here, that's worse than death. Yet, if she became the Kings mistress, she'd probably get away with it; people would assume she'd be using the connection to further her husbands career. Where the dividing line is, I don't know. We're going to have to tread very carefully until we get that sort of thing worked out. Don't look to me for guidance there, I'm no diplomat, I just straighten out the messes diplomats cause. Much more importantly though, how are your feet holding up Lillith?"

Lilliths expression changed to a smile of appreciation for the concern. "Very well, the dry ground helps. If it had been muddy, the strain would give me problems but todays weather suits me very well. It really was a good lesson though."

Privately, Parmenio was pleased at the reception of his first lesson as Lord of the Manor. The announcement that arrears of rents would be forgiven as long as future payments were made promptly had been made the day before so the congregation was already well disposed to him. The lesson had been the story of Gideons band and hed used it to pay tribute to the bravery of those whod fought for others who weren't able to fight for themselves. That had pleased the men who'd been in the armies. But then, he'd gone on to point out that, in keeping a home running and their children fed while their men were away, women showed courage just as great and that had won him points with them. Then, he'd also pointed out that the farmers who tilled their fields each season of the year, regardless of what the weather or fate could throw at them also showed equal bravery in their way. Courage, he'd pointed out, was universal and should be respected wherever it was found. If it had been seemly to give a standing ovation in Church, he'd have got one and there had been more than a few tears in people's eyes when hed retaken his seat.

Sir Toby had been impressed. "That'll be a hard act to follow," had been his comment. He'd have to though, the Lord of the Manor gave the lesson on the first Sunday of each month, the Sheriff on the second. Parmenio reflected that giving a lesson in Church wasn't actually very different to giving a stirring speech to an Army before a battle, and he'd done that often enough.

"Oh look, preserved fruits!" The stall they were passing had a displayed of dried, spiced fruit, made by the farmers wife out of the seasons crop. Lillith inspected the display gravely and picked out a couple of examples, paying the asking price. Another farmer or a merchant might bargain the price down but that would be undignified and ill-become the Lady of the Manor. She gave the goods to her 'maid' Achillea to carry and rejoined Parmenio.

"This is a rich country Seer, I never knew just how rich. The spring rains turned it so green that it made my eyes hurt. Even the Italian farms look poor and dry in comparison and, as for the Germans, itll take them generations to recover from the war. You know that only eldest sons inherit here?"

"So I understand. One reason why the farms are so productive, they don't get hacked up into ever-smaller holdings. Hey, whats going on here?"

There was a pair of hurdles set up with a cross-bar. By them stood a old, wizened farmer well into his fifties, with a pitchfork. It was quickly apparent this was a competition, the farmer, Ole'Davy was challenging all-comers to a game of pitch-tossing a bale of hay over the bar. Stakes of a penny a game. As soon as Ole'Davy saw the new Lord of the Manor watching, he redoubled his efforts to draw people in. "Ole'Davy, will you accept a challenge from a woman?" It was Achilleas voice. OleDavy looked her over, noting the bulging muscles and nodded thoughtfully.

"Be proud to miss. You like me to go first, show you how tis done?"

Achillea nodded. Ole'Davy took his pitchfork, stuck a bale of hay and with one easy motion swung it up and over, clearing the bar by at least a foot. Achillea nodded as the applause echoed around the ground. Then she stuck her bale and swung, relying on her much greater strength to get it over. The bale cleared the bar by a bare inch and she lost her grip on the pitchfork. It sailed in an arc though the air and stuck in the ground about two feet short of the nearest spectator. There was a burst of laughter and a few jesting comments about judgment from on high. Then, two men lifted the bar on the hurdles a foot higher. Ole'Davys throw was as equally easy as his first, almost lazy, and it cleared the bar, if anything with even more space to spare. Achillea lined up for her second throw, some of the crowd making a display of seeking cover while the Vicar, standing by the hurdles to adjudicate any ties, started ostentatiously started praying.

Achilleas second throw also cleared the bar but so close the bar actually moved and a few people held their breath waiting for it to fall. It wobbled but held. Achillea was also still holding her pitchfork this time and that gained her a round of ribald but good-natured jests. Then the bar went up another foot. Ole'Davy's throw cleared it by a lesser amount but it didn't matter. Achilleas hit the cross-bar square, sending it clattering to the ground. She looked at it for a moment then shook Ole'Davy warmly by the hand, paying up her penny with a broad smile. Ole'Davy accepted it with a nod. "Miss, you want to come by the farm some time, I'll show you how 'tis done. Then next fair we have another contest?" Achillea beamed at him and nodded acceptance of the offer.

"That was a fine effort Davy! Well done!" Parmenios voice carried across the crowd.

"Beggin' your parden milord, it be Ole'Davy. My son be working the same farm and he be Davy too so its Young'Davy for him and Ole'Davy for me."

"And Young'Davy has a father to be proud of. Ol'eDavy, that last throw was worth more than a penny. Here's a shilling for you and every penny of it well earned." There was a rustle of applause for the gesture as the Manorial family moved on. As soon as they were well away, Parmenio spoke quietly.

"Did you throw that contest Achillea? I'd have thought you'd have won easily."

"No, Seer, I wouldn't have insulted him like that. It's not matter of strength, it's like Lillith's and Naamah's bows, it's how you use strength that counts. Theres a trick to it I don't know, and Ole'Davy has it down perfectly. He won that match fair and square. Anyway, you know I've never thrown a contest, not even when I was four years old and in the Arena for the first time." For a moment Achillea's face was haunted by the memory of that first match, her opponent on the ground, disarmed, crying and screaming for his mother while a laughing crowd turned their thumbs down. And of her sword thrust that had finished him. Then her face cleared again, the past was past and that had been a long time ago.

On The Sarum Road, Avebury, Somerset.

"A good day I think. How did you get on Naamah?"

"Well, thank you. I found a couple of old ladies who had a stall selling herbal remedies. I stocked up on some herbs I need and talked things over with them. Made it clear that I wasn't going to compete. They were good really, oh they made love potions and the like, but they knew they were useless. They had some useful information on a few things I hadnt run across before and a couple of warnings on what to avoid." There were suppressed smiles at that comment, Naamah would doubtless be looking very seriously at the things shed been cautioned to avoid.

"This is a good road, better than I was expecting." Lillith shifted on the carriage seat. The ride was relatively smooth although Parmenio would have preferred to be on horseback. That was impossible of course, with three ladies in the party, horseback was out of the question.

"Local farmers have just finished maintaining this stretch. It was pretty miserable after the winter but it's dried out and they've filled the ruts in. There's a new thing starting up we might look into. Tollgate trusts. The idea is that a Tollgate trust takes over a specified section of road called a turn and maintains it all the year round. They erect a tollgate at each end of their turn and charge travelers for the use of the road. Idea is it turns a road from a fair-weather only route to an all-weather one." Parmenio looked thoughtful. "We might bring Sir Toby in on that idea, I was speaking with him on the roads around here. The toll roads are safer as well, less banditry."

"Banditry? They have bandits here?"

"Not as bad as it was in back around Florence. No large organized gangs, not around here at any rate. Here, the problem is mostly single thieves, highwaymen they call them, who hold up coaches and rob the occupants. Some of them are quite the local heroes, the old rob the rich to give to the poor thing."

"Except what they keep for expenses." Naamahs voice was cynical.

"Precisely. Others are just local thugs. We've got a highwayman around here according to Sir Toby. Calls himself Long John of Avebury. One of the better kind by all accounts. Still got a price on his head though. And forget it Achillea, you can't go hunting and collect it. As part of the Manorial family, you'd be expected to give the reward to the deserving poor. Charity's a big thing here, those who have are supposed to look after those who lack. Surprising number of them do too."

There was a companionable silence in the coach, interrupted only by the creaks and groans as it found its way over the ruts and potholes in the surface. The road had been recently rebuilt and Gusoyn was a good coachman who handled a team of horses with flair but those factors couldnt make up for a dirt road and poor suspension. Then, there was a sudden and unexpected jerk as the coach came to an abrupt halt.

"Stand and deliver! Your money or your life!"

"Oh no!" Lillith wailed. "Not more cliches."

A figure appeared in the window set in the coach, hat pulled low down over the eyes, a neckerchief pulled over the nose and mouth. "You, Sir, I'll relieve you of your purse. As for you ladies, a kiss from each of you is all I demand, so you'll have something to remember Long John of Avebury by."

Long John saw one of the women, the redhead, look up at him. He'd heard of her, how she kept her eyes so modestly dipped. He'd assumed that the gloriously red hair would be matched by flashing emerald eyes, ones that would gleam and sparkle in the dying light of dusk. Instead, he choked with what came close to horror, the eyes were slime-green, the shade of rancid mud or decaying flesh and were so completely lifeless that looking into them was staring into nothingness, a void. At that point, he realized something was seriously wrong. A slight glance sideways told him what it was. A pistol barrel was pointing at his temple. Another glance seemed to show him that the pistol in question was very familiar. A look down confirmed what he had begun to suspect, his right hand was empty. And still those dreadful green eyes stared at him and Long John sweated with fear for he realized that if he was dying in agony, they would still stare at him with the same emotionless disinterest. Then, looking around the coach again, the number of pistols pointing at him had increased to four.

"At the body Seer, not the head." Achillea spoke reprovingly. "This ones slow, slow, slow but hes still fast enough to move his head out of the line of fire."

"Understood." Parmenio looked at the highwayman. He was already measuring the road, trying to plan his escape. "Here's a piece of advice for you Long John. You know what soldiers do faced with cavalry? They shoot the horses first. Try and run for it and the first shot kills your horse."

"You'd kill my Bess?"

"Of course, she's a bigger target than you are and when she goes down, she'll pin you underneath her. On this surface, she'll break your leg for a certainty then grind the wounds into the dirt as she threshes around. Wound will mortify and that's a bad way to die. Slow and terrible. Seen it all too often."

"To think Long John of Avebury should be disarmed by a woman. Cannot believe it is so. I'll be the laughing stock of the county."

"Perhaps we could strike a deal there. Achillea is my wife's bodyguard as well as a maid. But more than half the value of her protection is that nobody realizes how good she is with weapons. It suits us for everybody to believe that you were taken down after a heroic fight with my man Gusoyn up top and with my help of course. You stick to that story, I'll offer you a way of escaping a hanging. And I'll take your horse into my own stables and see she is well-cared for."

Long John of Avebury stared at the man in the coach, desperately trying to avoid looking into the green eyes of the woman sitting opposite to him. "You promise Bess will be cared for?"

"I gave my word didn't I?" Parmenio was irritated. "You want it in writing?"

"Sorry Sir, your word is good enough. No offense meant. I'll stick to your story."

Somerset Assizes, Winchester, England

"Court will come to order. Next case, robbery on the Kings Highways. Your name?"

"Long John of Avebury milord."

"Your real name?"

"John Timkins milord." The dashing highwayman seemed to shrink visibly as his real name came out.

"And how do you plead?"

"Guilty, milord."

"What are the facts of this case?"

Parmenio rose and gave a quick account of what had happened. He and his family had been driving home when they'd been stopped. Their coachman Gusoyn had leaped on the highwayman from the driving step and there'd been a fight that had only ended when he, Parmenio, had joined in. He stressed that, despite the ferocity of the fight, the highwayman had fought cleanly and honorably without striking a low or foul blow, even when defeat seemed inevitable. The account ended with a patter of applause from the spectators, a patter quickly silenced by the banging of a gavel from the bench. Gusoyn gave his story, again emphasizing how the highwayman had behaved in an gentlemanly and chivalrous manner. By the time he'd finished, the applause was stronger and less easily stilled.

"Do you dispute any of these facts?"

"No, milord."

"You realize the punishment is hanging?"

"My Lord?"

"Yes Sir Stewart?"

"May I intercede for clemency on behalf of this man? I feel there is good in him that only needs the right circumstances to bring out. I am advised that the Kings Ship Saint David is in Portsmouth and presently recruiting landsmen for her crew. I believe that a midshipman with some seamen are in this very town to that end. Perhaps a few years sea service may be the making of this man?"

"Why milord, 'tis always been my ambition to serve of one of Good King Charles ships!"

"Quite." The judge looked at the highwayman with profound skepticism. "In view of what we have heard here today, I am minded to offer you the opportunity. If Saint David will have you, then they are welcome. And if you come back here with a reference of good character after your service, then your earlier indiscretions will be forgotten. Case closed."

Parmenio and his companions left the Assize, ready for the long trip back to Avebury. Lillith was right, the country really was beautifully green and fresh in the spring. He sighed happily as he settled back on the seats of the coach. "You know people, I really think we're going to like it here."