Warlord's Gold: Book 5 of The Civil War Chronicles by Michael Arnold Page B

moment. ‘I have recently had cause to round up a good many enemies of the Parliament, setting them aboard ship so as they might nevermore be thorns in our flesh.’
    ‘Setting them aboard ship?’
    Murford nodded vigorously. ‘To New England, sir. The cause of the King is the cause of Lucifer. We must do all we can to destroy the Cavaliers, however harsh our measures may seem.’
    Norton could not conceal his surprise. ‘You have had them transported to the New World?’ But even as he awaited the answer, he noticed the other officials casting their eyes to their boots, as if unwilling to be associated with the governor. Moreover, he could not help but catch the stares from passers-by. These were not the contented citizens he had taken them for, but men and women cowed into obedience. They might be Parliamentarians, but that did not necessarily guarantee loyalty to a man who ruled as tyrant.
    ‘Aye, Colonel,’ Murford said firmly. ‘And any who refuse the new oath will suffer the same fate.’
    ‘Oath?’
    ‘The Solemn League and Covenant,’ Murford said with more than a hint of surprise.
    Norton felt annoyed at having to explain his lack of awareness. ‘I have been in the field, Governor.’
    Murford smiled as if humouring a child. ‘Of course, Colonel. It is the pledge we all must take. The act has not yet passed, but the news from London is that Parliament will require every grown man to adhere to it.’
    Norton frowned. ‘To what end?’
    ‘To uphold the reformed religion in accordance with the Kirk.’
    ‘The Scots?’ The implication hit Norton like a blast from a culverin. ‘In exchange for their army,’ he said in barely a whisper.
    Murford gave a sly smile. ‘Aye.’ His own voice dropped a touch. ‘We take the oath, they give us their war machine, and the Royalists are crushed.’
    Norton did not like the idea of any alliance with the Scots, much less adhering to their damnable Kirk and its dour clergy, and yet it seemed a small price to pay for the destruction of King Charles’s formidable forces. ‘It seems things move on apace. If the Scots march into England, we will provide a ser­ious challenge to the malignants.’
    ‘But first we must ensure England is prepared,’ Murford said. ‘The likes of you and I will sweep the Royalists from our good county, eh?’
    Norton agreed, but even as he spoke, he wondered what damage Murford’s harsh governance had caused this loyal city.
    St Mary’s, Isles of Scilly, 5 October 1643
     
    ‘You are too accustomed to trading on your name, sir.’
    Stryker was standing before his trio of captors like a condemned felon. ‘What do you know of it?’
    The mulatto picked at something in his ear, inspecting his nail with casual interest. ‘Trouble is, they do not know you in these parts. Out here in this wilderness.’ He evidently read the sudden understanding on Stryker’s face, for his lips turned slowly upwards at the corners. ‘Oh, we know you, Mister Stryker. The man with one eye and one name. Famous and feared. Prince Rupert’s ban-dog. Aye, we know all about you.’
    Stryker struggled not to show his shock. ‘If that is true, then you know I am not for the Parliament.’
    ‘But yellow-belly Balthazar does not know, and that, my good captain, is all that matters.’
    Stryker’s head was spinning now, his mind wrestling with the shards of information in a vain attempt to sculpt something whole. ‘What is the meaning of this? We sailed here at the King’s order. Took ship from Bristol, a Dutch fluyt called the Kestrel . But she was lost in a storm.’
    ‘And why did you sail here, Captain? Let me have a stab at it, eh? You’re after the gold.’
    Stryker felt as though he had been kicked squarely in the crotch. He swallowed hard. ‘I do not—’
    ‘You seek the personal fortune of Sir Alfred Cade,’ the dark man went on, his tone laced with relish. ‘Seek it for Cavalier coffers. Well you’re out o’ luck.’
    ‘Cavalier coffers?’