Chapter Fourteen


My God, did we get drunk that night. Sir Mosswood had asked us back to his fortified mansion, a big rambling red brick house with towers and a moat. First, of course, Father Ten attended to my chest wound, it was only light but I seemed to have lost a lot of blood, my new silk shirt and beautiful uniform were soaked in it. He had to tear away the shirt that had stuck to my chest and hairs with dried blood. I can tell you, it made my eyes water. Then he gently washed it and rubbed in some herbs and weeds from the garden. Sir Mosswood summoned a servant, who scurried around, to take away and wash and repair my clothes. We all sat in his great hall by a log fire that you could stand in. Indeed, it was a chilly night for spring.
First, sips of brandy. I had never tasted it before, and was delighted with the way its strange nectar gave warmth all the way down. Then, beautiful wines, with the roast pig and beef, washed down by a rough and friendly cider, grown and made in his orchard.  Finally, mugs of foaming beer. Tim and I, boasting with the exaggeration of  alcohol, talked about our speed and prowess with the sword and how we had put away an army that Alexander the Great would have envied. I realised after a while, that Sir Mosswood and Father Ten listened good-naturedly but made no boasts at all. Still, Sir Mosswood made up for it with some hilarious jokes and stories about his misspent youth, that had Tim and me collapsing with laughter.
Then, as often happens with drinking, my high-flying mood dived. For some reason, in a pause from laughter, I remembered the eyes of the man I had stabbed, and the man crying for his mother. To my shame, I burst into tears. For a while they all stared at me, until Father Ten came and sat next to me and put his arm around my shoulder in a hug.
Sir Mosswood stood up and nearly toppled over. ‘Don’t worry, young Jeffery, we have all cried afterwards, that’s why we don’t talk about it. Killing is an excuse for murder really.’  I don’t know why, but in my state of drunkenness that made perfect sense to me. Sir Mosswood lifted his glass in a toast, tottered backwards, and fell in front of the fireplace, to sleep there for the rest of the night. Now, I thought that terribly funny, and from the depth of despair laughed my head off.
 The next thing I remember, bright early sunlight was streaming in through the open window, Father Ten was holding my head up and putting some hot mead to my lips, it tasted delicious and revived me almost immediately. ‘We are having a meeting out- side in the garden. Come down as soon as you can.’
I found them all outside on the lawn, eating a hearty breakfast of smoked fish, slices of beef, ham, pork and eggs, knocked down by some weak beer. Father Ten was in the middle of what sounded almost like a lecture as he argued with the others, including Tom who wasn’t so diffident as I remembered him in the old days. Father Ten was saying - ‘We have no choice, we have to fight evil with the same ferocious cruelty that evil fights us. To misquote the bard himself - Some are born evil, some achieve evil, and some have evil thrust upon them!’
 ‘Hear hear!’ Sir Mosswood said with some drunken impediment, even at this time of the morning.
 After philosophy, the discussion turned to tactics. Father Ten seemed to take charge of that too, with Sir Mosswood adding a touch here and there. I had too much of a hangover to take part so I simply listened dutifully. They worked out a plan to go and seek an audience with the King, for approbation. They certainly had the privilege and right, Father Ten was an important Bishop, and as a member of the Square Table, Sir Mosswood was privileged with immediate access to the Club Court in matters of emergency. The only problem might be the Club Prince John, who in fear of losing his commission from Club workers might block their access. In any event, I was to go home until the expected arrival of the messengers from the Heart and Spade suits. When I found Colonel Bolt in Heartland and did my duties, he would take me to meet the good Spade Knight Sir Leighton, who was on our side, and on into Spadeland.
 He asked us if we had any questions, and for the first time I spoke. I reminded him that the Rabbi had warned me against going to Spadeland. Father Ten shook his head. ‘That was nonsense!’ he said.’ Then I told him of the curious thing the Earl of Gold had said to me about discovering my true identity. On that Father Ten looked mystified. He seemed to make a decision. ‘I feel the time has certainly come to enlighten you all. We are all about to begin a dangerous journey, into the unknown, therefore the more you know the better advantage you will have. As a prelude to war there is usually a lot of espionage, both sides trying to find out about the other’s weaknesses and strengths, finding out, or giving out false or accurate information. In our Clubland, the head of Intelligence is our dear Queen Isobel and my-self, her daughter Princess Collette… does some… digging abroad. Gossips corner is a font of information.’
We were all surprised at this and began to fire questions at him, but Father Ten motioned us to sit, and continued. ‘I am in control of the practical side, Tom and I do all the work. For the Diamonds as you have probably guessed Rabbi Gideon runs the Intelligence, with the approval of their royal family. In Heartland it is Colonel Bolt (he glanced at me), remember that, Jeffery, you will meet him there. Now Spadeland is nebulous, there are good and honourable Catholics there, one of them, Sir Leighton, I feel sure (he thought for a moment then rephrased his adjective), I… hope, he is loyal to the good. Anyway whoever makes it that far, will have to trust him. Now, we will have to split forces. Sir Mosswood, Tom and I will travel north, for an audience with our Royal family, we have a lot of persuading to do. Alas the King is weak and reclusive, dominated by an avaricious son, Prince John. In fact they are both greedy. Prince John collects the money King Henry counts it. You, Tim, must stay here in Clubdon to keep an eye on the mood of the people and   watch over our base. You, Jeffery have an important journey east. The Rabbi will fill you in on any more relevant facts when you see him.’
 I raised my hand and began to ask how, when he pre-empted me. ‘He will find you, Jeffery. After we are finished here, you must go home and tend to your farm, until the expected arrival of the messengers from Heartland and Spadeland. God willing, we will all unite on the Spade border in five day’s time to meet Sir Leighton.’
 Tim raised his hand. ‘Where?’ There was a pause while Father Ten thought about this.
‘At the Border Inn,’ offered Sir Mosswood. Father Ten Smiled.
‘The Border Inn it is.’ He retained his stare at Sir Mosswood. ‘Anything, James?’ Sir Mosswood nodded.
 ‘Yes a few tips if you don’t mind young Sirs. First we may have fought very well. We… older men… well, you woudn’t have had time to notice, we tend to fight with less effort. You naturally fight like young lions. But if that fight had gone on you and Tim would have been exhausted. Of course Father Ten and I have to reserve our strength, but you should do the same, it’s like masturbation, more wrist action and less body movement. Also you didn’t use the sun, Tim.’ Tim had his hand in front of his mouth, trying to hide a grin from Sir Mosswood’s last comment.
‘The sun, Sir?’  Sir Mosswood nodded a little ominously.
‘Yes, pull out your dagger.’ Tim looked puzzled, but obliged him.
 To my horror, Sir Mosswood suddenly drew his sword and struck down on to Tim’s head. Tim’s eyes were in the rising sun and he didn’t see it coming. At the last second Sir Mosswood drew back on his lunge and twisted his sword, so only the flat hit Tim gently on the head. Without waiting for a reaction he turned on me. ‘And you, young Jeffery (I winced) ‘You were wounded in the chest.’
 ‘Only a graze,’ I argued. He shook his head.
 ‘You don’t understand do you. I saw you swoon at the end. Don’t you see if that fight had gone on you would have been a dead man. With all that action, the heart is working overtime to pump blood around the body. You had a leak. I’ve seen men in battle with a small wound, the blood is squirting out like a cow’s udder. (I nodded my understanding. He smiled, and slapped my back.) Good, but both of you, excellent!’ He nodded at the butler who was standing close by. The butler opened a box. Sir Mosswood pulled out two beautifully engraved silver pistols and gave one to Tim and the other to me.
 We only just had time to heartily thank him, before Father Ten stood up and looked at me, smiling. He had his kind face on, something I was seeing less of these days. I knew he was going to offer me something because he stuffed his hands in his tunic, he always did that when he was feeling generous. ‘ Follow me,’ was all he said, and strode off in the direction of the farm buildings. When we reached the stables, he opened a door with the name Flush above it, and led out a beautiful stallion, with a leather and velvet saddle, engraved with his old coat of arms.
 He held out the reins to me. ‘This is Flush, a prized horse celebrated as the fastest horse in Clubland. He is yours. Sir Mosswood and I felt you deserved something more befitting your station.’
I was so stunned that for a moment I couldn’t speak. At last I managed to stutter a ‘thank you, oh God, thank you.’ They all laughed, patted me on my back, and pushed me up on Flush. I rode around the grounds, ecstatic with happiness. It was a beautiful horse, quick and easy to control, powerful and fast. Now I would be able to keep up with that bloody sergeant Reeb. Yet, as I was finding out in life, happiness can be so quickly overtaken by sadness. It was time to depart. After an abundant amount of hugging, and pledges of eternal friendship, we all mounted and galloped out of the grounds, until we reached the crossroads. With a wave, Father Ten, Sir Mosswood, and the warden, took the road north to the capital, Clubdon, Tim and I went back to our village.