Under the ancient weeping willow
Denied the sight of his face as he growled close to her ear, Fliss’s eyes darted around, searching for an escape route. They were shielded from the world by the ancient willow’s cascade of branches. The sounds of the river were amplified in this cocoon, cold mist settling on her face suggesting it was close by. Another corpse lay on the soft mud within, his throat cut. She recognised him as one of the Invisibles and whimpered. He was dead because of her. Probably the other man, too. So many innocent people were now in extreme danger. Jake. His brothers. Their young families.
He forced her head back cruelly, making her look into his manic eyes. ‘Were you the one spying on me?’
‘I wasn’t s-spying.’
‘Liar.’ The back of his hand slammed hard across her face. ‘You took a hackney to the Albany while I was in your uncle’s house. I know Jacob Warriner works for the Excise Men. I know they brought you here to hide and I know they set a trap for my men!’ His hand whipped across her cheek again, so hard her head snapped back and spun. He violently shook her out of the blackness. ‘Was he with you that night? Has he seen my face?’
‘No!’ At least he referred to Jake in the present tense. Fliss forced herself to take some comfort in that.
‘Who else has seen me?’
‘N-nobody. Just me.’ If she couldn’t save herself, perhaps she could spare the others the fate of those poor men. ‘I heard you telling my uncle you wanted my aunts murdered, too, so I dragged them with me. They know nothing. Only me. I’m the only one who has seen you.’ Pride made her look him in the eye. Pure hatred made her brave. ‘I’m your loose end.’
‘Then come with me, my lovely, and you can tell that to the Boss. Let’s hope he believes you, for both our sakes. He don’t like loose ends.’
He was so strong, easily dragging her like a dead weight to the water’s edge.
‘You can get in the boat willingly or I’ll drown you and deliver your body to the Boss. Your choice.’ She hesitated and he smiled callously. ‘I’ve got what I’ve come for. The quicker you move, the less chance there is of me killing someone else. Those wee ones or your fancy man, perhaps...’
Thinking fast, Fliss staggered to her feet and stepped into the small tethered rowing boat. Drowning right this minute served no purpose because Jake was coming. She knew that with the same certainty that she knew this monster before her was pure evil. At some point he would have to leave the sanctuary of this willow and sail in open water where he would be vulnerable. Every man in the King’s Elite had a pistol. Any one of them could take a decisive shot.
Before he pushed the boat off the muddy bank, the Londoner bound her hands roughly in her lap, the coarse rope so tight it made her fingers throb. Then he used the oars to dislodge the boat, his brawny arms holding one steady in the water to act as a rudder in the current. As they emerged from the branches, that underwater current proved to be too strong, sending the bouncing rowing boat drifting back towards the open meadow rather than in the direction her captor wanted it to go. His arms frantically dragged the oars, but the two opposing forces merely twisted them on the same spot. He’d misjudged things and was panicking. Fliss could see it in the wild darting of his eyes and the hard, determined set of his jaw.
As subtly as she could, she leaned towards the direction of the current to make his job harder and searched the horizon for help. While she was relieved to see no sign of Bella, the children or her aunts, the lack of anyone coming to her rescue was worrying. But the longer they sat here, completely exposed and floundering, the better. Jake would come and with him would come more men and guns. That certainty was like a soothing balm to her soul and gave her the calm she needed to think pragmatically.
The hard thud of a boot on her leg brought her sharply back to the moment. ‘Sit up straight!’
Fliss complied roughly, purposely causing the boat to rock and freezing water to slosh in, soaking her feet. The more delays she created, the more chances she afforded Jake and his men. The Londoner’s response was to kick her again, which only made the violent rocking worse, and the boat listed and twisted, forcing him to use both oars and all his strength to calm it.
‘They are going to kill you. You know that, don’t you?’ Her voice was sure and prim. Her Miss Blunt schoolmistress tone. Defiant. His eyes briefly narrowed.
‘Not before I kill you first.’
* * *
Jake and Leatham had crept along the cover of the willows. The rest of the men were either on their way or already in position under cover. They weren’t called the Invisibles for nothing. Somewhere, too, were his brothers, because Warriners always stuck together. Knowing that gave him some comfort, but did little to ease the clawing panic which consumed him. The sight of two good men murdered hadn’t helped.
‘Not before I kill you first.’
Both of them stilled at the gravelly sound of the Londoner and Seb silently gestured beyond the branches to pinpoint exactly where the voice had come from. Then he mouthed the word Fobbing. Jake understood instantly. He would confront the scoundrel, keep him occupied while his friend crept around and took the shot.
Taking a deep breath, Jake emerged from the curtain of the willow fronds, his pistol aimed. When he saw her, spinning in the river, bound and pale, his heart stopped and his arm wavered. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. Nor was the symbolism. Why did it have to be here? The exact same place...
He wouldn’t fail this time.
‘Put your hands in the air!’
Fliss turned then and her frightened eyes locked with his in the same moment her captor placed the point of his pistol against her neck. ‘Go ahead, Mr Warriner. Shoot me. I’ll blow her pretty brains out before your bullet leaves the chamber.’
Jake didn’t dare risk flicking a gaze left or right. Fliss’s life depended on him trusting Leatham to do the job. ‘And then you will also die. You’re surrounded. All my men are armed. If you surrender yourself we will provide you protection from the Boss.’ The man wouldn’t live to step on the shore if Jake had anything to do with it, but now, the official lines might buy them some time if the bastard thought he could save his own sorry skin. ‘Testify against him and I guarantee you won’t hang.’
The chilling laughter echoed in the silence. ‘I’d rather hang then spend the rest of my short life looking over my shoulder. I’m already a dead man walking. The Boss doesn’t take well to failure.’ He jabbed the pistol harder under Fliss’s jaw. ‘But you don’t want her dead, do you, Warriner? So you’d best let us go.’ His other hand groped for the oar and with Fliss clamped against him as a human shield, attempted to row away.
The tiny boat pitched again, and spun, then seemed to wedge itself against some underwater debris. The position was a bad one, denying Jake or Leatham a clean shot that wouldn’t hit her as well.
Checkmate.
Jake stood rooted to the spot, his pistol raised in readiness none the less. ‘Let. Her. Go.’ The second he had a clear line of sight that monster would die.
‘Urgh!’
The shout from the willow branches as Leatham launched himself out, pistol waving like an ancient warrior, made the Londoner start. The smuggler’s gun hand shifted.
Aimed.
Fired.
The bullet ripped through Jake’s friend’s body, throwing him backwards in a hideous spray of blood. Jake watched in horror as the Londoner briefly let go of Fliss to reach for another weapon. Like a dream, he saw her lurch to her feet in the boat. Watched her eyes widen and lock with his before they softened. Watched them harden to emeralds as she threw herself over the side and was instantly swept away in the current.
His guttural cry and the explosion from his pistol sliced through the air. Jake didn’t care whether he’d hit his target. All he cared about was the woman in the water. Oblivious to everything else he charged in after her, first running, then swimming towards the tangled green skirts which floated on the surface like river weed.
As he got closer, he saw her bound hands had grabbed the willow fronds, but the current was winning. It was greedily flowing around her, each new surge ebbing higher and higher as she struggled to stay afloat. For one heart-stopping moment, her face disappeared under the surface, only to emerge again a few seconds later spluttering as she fought to stay afloat.
Jake battled to swim alongside, wrapping one arm tightly around her as he, too, grabbed the ancient willow, but her woollen winter skirts were like an anchor, sucking her down until he could barely hold her face free of the river. She gasped for air and swallowed a mouthful of river instead, her eyes staring helplessly up at him from beneath the icy tomb. Terrified. She didn’t want to die.
Yet he was losing her. He wasn’t strong enough. She had trusted him to save her and he was failing, just as he always failed when people stupidly depended on him. He stared back at where his fingers gripped the branch. The irony wasn’t lost on him. Fate’s last cruel joke at his expense. He should just let go and let the angry river take them both. Selfishly he didn’t want to live without her. Knew he wasn’t strong enough to carry that burden. Knew his heart only beat for her.
‘We’ve got you!’ His eldest brother Jack’s voice boomed through the despair. He was waist deep in the water, his other hand locked tightly in Joe’s. Behind him was Jamie. Strong as an ox and braced round the same gnarled branch Jake had scrambled along all those years ago.
His brother grabbed his collar and pulled, freeing Jake to finally let go of the willow. He wrapped both his arms tightly around Fliss and kicked for all he was worth, until his feet scraped along the river bank and his lungs burned from the exertion. Together they dragged her to safety.
Except she wasn’t safe.
She lay on the ground like a wet rag. Pale. Frozen. Deathly still. Jake stood back to allow Joe to do what he was trained to do, knowing in his unworthy heart it was futile.
‘She’s not breathing, is she?’
‘There’s water in her lungs.’ His brother’s face was grave. Joe turned Fliss’s head and river water spewed out of her slack mouth. Then he turned her head upright again and pushed on her chest. When the trickling stopped he bent and began to blow deeply into her mouth while Jake stood powerless and broken, the pain in his own chest so severe he wished he had let go of the branch so that he didn’t have to face the future without her. Knowing he’d failed her when she had needed him the most.
His eldest brother’s arms went around his shoulder. He didn’t offer platitudes or false hope, simply his strength, and as he had all those years before Jake leaned on him and wondered how the hell he was supposed to cope with this. His heart was bleeding. His life now meaningless. Tight bands of pain corded around his body and he wished they’d strangle the life out of him and get it over with.
‘This is all my fault.’
‘No, it isn’t. You did all you could.’
Which was never enough. It was all so hideously familiar. Damn fate and its twisted games! Damn it all to—
Her violent coughing and spluttering was the most beautiful sound Jake had ever heard and he dropped to his knees and wept. He didn’t care who saw it or what they thought, he just scrambled towards her and gathered her close while she caught her breath, smoothing her wet hair from her chilled face and telling her how much he loved her.
Close by, Bella and Jamie were bent over Leatham, then Joe joined them, too. All Jake could do was pray for his friend because he couldn’t let Fliss go. From somewhere, a dry greatcoat was placed around his shoulders and he used it swaddle her in. After several long minutes, her arms wrapped around his neck. ‘Oh, Jake...’ Her voice was so weak, hoarse from her ordeal, but hearing it healed his broken heart instantly. They still had today and tomorrow and for ever.
‘I thought I’d lost you.’ She was going to be the death of him and the light of his life. A life he now couldn’t wait to get started on. A new life with a wife and a home. Children perhaps. Love. Laughter. Light. ‘What were you thinking, woman? Throwing yourself overboard...’
Her finger pressed against his lips softly, silencing him and she smiled. ‘You do have an uncanny knack of being in exactly the right place at exactly the right time, Jacob Warriner. I trusted you implicitly to save me.’ One frozen finger brushed a tear from his cheek. ‘I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.’