Chapter Fifteen

I spent three days getting up late (a great luxury for a Clubman), lolling about, reading, thinking of Topaz, and drinking with Tim at the Royal Oak. Because of the fight there, we never had to buy a drink. The rest of the time I worked around the small farm. I let Betty loose in my only large field where she seemed excessively happy, leaping around, kicking her hind legs, and running around the perimeter. I made an arrangement with the blacksmith to look after her. I would miss her.
The town people who passed my house were much more respectful now. Instead of criticising me about not working as a labourer for our good Prince John, in the other suits, which they did constantly when I was a Two Club, those folk of Five and under even doffed their hats. But it was probably out of respect for my dead mother and my loss rather than my gain in rank.  When I had given the good town people leniency or the benefit of doubt, Mr and Mrs Smith-Jones strolled past and stopped just within earshot on the other side of the street. They were Sevens, no less.
They pretended to admire some roses in the garden opposite. He had never spoken to me directly and he wasn’t going to now.  ‘You know, my dear…’ he began to say, his mouth slanted over his shoulder. ‘I agree with the good squire Six, a man of great sagacity. That Two Club should have been forced to work for the Spades, or down the mines, before he was bought as a Captain. I mean, really! What sort of a Captain do you think he will make?’ Mrs Smith-Jones pulled on his arm, so they began to stroll away, but not without a parting shot from her. ‘Well perhaps, dearest he is Captain of the ball game.’
They both glanced at me for the first time in their lives and laughed mockingly as they walked on. What bloody gall! I thought. He had married her for her money. She was the only daughter of a rich family of Sevens. How he managed it I don’t know, he wasn’t exactly handsome, and only a Three when he married her, and he was as honest as a bent card. I sighed, and went to get a drink. Oh God, I reflected, I was beginning to think like them. I hoped to God those messengers would arrive soon.

They did, two minutes later, the Heart messenger and his entourage. The procession, was led by two buglers, then the messenger, looking very important, and behind him… Eros and Cupid? Then two guards armed with muskets.  They all looked flustered, and in a rush, keen to ride the long journey home before it got too dark. They came galloping down the high street with their trumpets blowing, and making a hell of a din. The whole town seemed to rush from their homes and run after them, including the Smith-Joneses. The Heart messenger and his guards rode sweating white horses that had obviously been ridden hard. Everyone lived in fear now of border raids, and Highwaymen. The messenger himself was a tall muscular man, dressed in a beautiful burgundy-red velvet coat  (their type of hunting jacket), and white leather shorts with red booties. Ditto for his horse, no booties of course, but the hooves were painted red.
As they reined in their horses, I could make out a look of disdain on the messenger’s face as he glanced at my house. When he saw me and that at least he would be addressing a Captain, he perked up. He drew up and stared down at me. His guards at last stopped their dreadful din on the trumpets and he shouted at me until he realised the trumpets had stopped. ‘ARE…. Are you Captain Jeffery Lock of Clubtown?’ I offered a slight bow. By way of response, Eros in gold body paint, and Cupid in silver, a glamorous young man and woman dressed in loincloths, twanged their bow strings at me, and blew kisses. The messenger drew a scroll from his saddle and read from it.
‘His perfectly formed and beautiful Majesty Prince Rupert, with a huge penis, demands that you, Captain Jeffery, attend his Sex Maniac’s ball in two day’s time for a cup of tea, truffles, and sexual intercourse!’ I was dumbfounded. After plucking up courage, I glanced at the crowd of neighbours. They were staring at the Heart messengers with their mouths open. Someone shouted, with great sagacity,
‘Can I come?’ It got a glance and a sneer from the messenger.
From the forest on the hills above the village, I heard the long high-pitched shrill of a wood pigeon. It was a little too loud to be a real pigeon. It must be the warning from Lupo (the no Clubs) that Spades were on the way. It went unnoticed with the Heart assemblage. I wondered if I should go into my house and get my pistol, but Lupo’s call had come from a part of the forest that I could see horsemen break from. I would have time. Besides, it might startle the Hearts. I bowed again to the Royal messenger.
‘With regards to the above, Sir, yes to the noble company of the illustrious and virile prince and yes to his invitation of tea and buns but alas no to the intercourse, unless it is in words.’
The messenger looked affronted. ‘You will say no to our Prince, Sir?’
 I bowed a little lower. ‘Just to his penis.’ The male and female Eros went in to loud exaggerated cries of disenchantment and swooning. The girl even fell off her horse. Someone in the crowd screamed.  I looked at the girl again there was a real arrow in her back. She wasn’t in love she was dead. A peal of trumpets rang out from the forest. I looked up to see about ten Spade riders break from the trees. The male Eros jumped off his horse to attend his companion. The Heart messenger panicked and galloped off. His two musket men aimed at the approaching horsemen and in their alarm missed. They all galloped off, leaving the poor actor weeping over his dead girlfriend.
The town people at first seemed frozen until they too panicked and scattered. I felt sorry for the girl it was tragic, yet I was so impressed by that shot. It was from high up, which helped, but from something like five hundred yards and deadly accurate.
I rushed indoors, grabbed my sword belt, buckled it on, and snatched up my new silver pistol. By the time I stood outside my door again, they had arrived, a noisy, yelling, whistling bunch of bastards. Their pistols were still in their belts and they pointed no weapons at me, so for now, considering the odds, I left mine alone. Naturally, they were all dressed in black tunics with black cloaks and hats. The officer a captain with a gold M on his chest, nodded at me. ‘Do I have the honour of addressing Captain Bolt?’ I placed my hands on my hips, hoping it would look tough. ‘You do, Sir.’
He doffed his large-brimmed black hat with a green feather. ‘Well, men, we must be careful of this one. With the notable Sir Mosswood, and their Bishop Ten, they disposed of twenty men, including the Earl of Gold.’ The others made suitable noises of false approval. ‘I must apologise Captain, for my poor shot, we were out hunting, I missed a boar and got (he glanced down) Cupid or is it Eros?’  I fingered the holster of my pistol and nodded at the weeping actor.
‘Apologise to him.’
The officer scoffed. ‘What, to a Two Heart? You jest Sir.’ He really shouldn’t have said that to me. I pulled out my pistol.
‘No sir, I do not.’
 The officer smiled indulgently and pulled out his pistol. On his cue the others did the same. I was looking down the barrels of ten pistols. ‘Tell that bloody Two Heart to stop that wretched noise.’ The officer ordered one of his men. One of his men shot the actor in the head. It was callous, and so unexpected, that I jumped with the explosion. Facing quick imminent death, I experienced a haunting. A phantom penetrated and occupied my body. Inside I was chilled by a sudden winter’s night in the graveyard, by my grave. My death was unacceptable. But there was my grave and the date. It was so unfair, unjust, when success was blossoming with my youth…Topaz… it was as if the memories of the future would not, could not be remembered, and these last thoughts now were in the space of a rushing heartbeat.
 ‘Now, Captain Jeffery.’ The officer continued. ‘We have orders to invite you to attend Her gracious Majesty the Queen, at her court in Spadeland.  Hers was a kind request. On the other hand my Prince Victor wishes you dead. Now, whom shall I obey?’ He let me think about this while he levelled his pistol to shoot me between the eyes.
 ‘The Queen,’ a voice said behind. It was Tim, and by the look on their faces I guessed he was holding the blunderbuss. With this change of fortune, my life returned to me, I took the initiative.
‘Tell your gracious Majesty Theophila, that I am overwhelmed and honoured by her request, and with the permission of my superiors may attend.’
 They all stared at us angrily but were unsure what to do. ‘Good day, gentlemen, and fuck off,’ Tim ordered from behind me. Without another word they viciously kicked their poor horses and galloped off. When they were out of musket range I turned round. ‘How can I ever thank you?’ I offered. He grinned. ‘Ah no,’ I said.  ‘You cannot go to the ball. Your orders are to stay here.’ I glanced at the dead actors. Tim sighed.
 ‘Don’t worry Jeffery I’ll have them buried, (he looked at me sadly) with your Mother. Be careful on your journey. (He held out his hand, which I shook.) Go now. I’ll see you on the Spadeland border with the others.’ I began to walk away, he called after me, ‘Oh Jeff.’ I turned he was smiling. ‘I like your uniform.’
I collected my saddlebag, packed with my tool-bag, shirts and underclothes, and walked the short distance to Joe Smith, the Two Club blacksmith, where I had kept Flush out of sight. He would have aroused suspicion, and was vulnerable to horse thieves who sometimes raided at night. There had been a surge of it in the last few weeks. Father Ten thought it possible that it was Prince Victor building up his cavalry.
Flush was perky and agitated when Joe led him out of his stable, as if he was restless for action. ‘Fine horse like this needs more exercise, Master Jeffery.’ Joe said as he checked the saddle straps.
 ‘I do perceive that he will get plenty of that and soon,’ I answered, throwing my Club army saddle- bag over the high muscular back of Flush and tied it up. I stood back to admire my acquisition. Joe had done a fine job. The horse looked sensational, its ink-black coat well groomed, brushed and shining, the red leather saddle burnished from a lot of elbow grease. I tossed Joe a silver shilling. He caught it with his large calloused hands and lobbed it back.
‘No Sir, you keep it. I was at the Inn, I saw you with our local Knight and Bishop and how you all risked your lives for Clubland. You gave a stirring account of yourselves, if you don’t mind me saying.’
 I tried to hold back a smile because I felt it might look smug. But the smile seemed to find my lips anyway. ‘Thank, you Joe. I saw you and the farmers try to help. It was very brave without weapons….  (I sighed.) Poor old Tom. How are his wife and kids coping?’ He looked away.
 ‘Not well, Sir.’
 ‘Then take your fee and give it to his wife.’ I tossed back the shilling, he caught it and brightened up.  ‘I am certain the bishop will take care of them when he returns from his mission.’ He looked puzzled.
‘Mission, Sir?’ I considered telling him and felt it crucial the good people of the town should spread the word and be prepared.
‘Yes, Joe, mark my words and warn as many people as you can to prepare for a possible invasion soon.’ He looked concerned.
‘Oh my good Ace. That is bad, Sir.’
 ‘I know. Spread the news discreetly.’
‘But who would want to invade poor old Clubland?’
 I held out my hand, which he shook so strongly that it moved my body like a wooden doll. ‘I’ve said enough already. But that’s our mission, to try and stop it happening.’ I put my boot in the stirrup and sprang up on to the saddle.
 Flush was still frisky, jumping and spinning around in a circle before I could rein him in. Joe was jumping around to avoid the hoofs. ‘And do you think it can be stopped, sir?’  I noticed Joe’s teenage son running over to the yard gate to open it for me.
‘I’m afraid, Joe, there’s not a chance in hell!’ I yelled over my noisy horse. I kicked Flush harder than I meant to, and he leapt forward with such unexpected force that I had to hold on tight. This was going to be a high jump over the gate. It was meant to keep bolting horses in. Flush catapulted over with consummate ease. My pulse was racing. I felt excited. I was young, an army captain, racing towards the border, to new lands, new horizons and new life… or death.