“To the house!” The Reverend Perilly took her arm, pulled her over the lawn.

“Watch your front!” Captain Tugwell shouted, and then a musket fired from across the moat, there were shouts and all the defenders on the castle lawn rested muskets on the spiked forks, pulled triggers, and at the same moment Campion became aware of a great, growling cheer from the north. She was running now, panic giving her speed, and in the light of the burning, destroyed keep, she saw where the stones, flung by the explosion, had shattered windows of the Old and New House.

The two gunners who had deserted from the Roundhead lines, and who had been promised twenty pounds apiece by Ebenezer Slythe, had done their work well. They had gone for powder, waited until the other gunners had collected their small kegs and then laid a simple powder trail. An old sergeant in charge of the magazine had found them, but he was dead in seconds, his throat cut, and then they had lit the powder trail and sprinted for the safety of the stable-yard. The explosion, coming sooner than they expected, had flung both men down, but they were unharmed. They went on toward the stable, laughing at the sound of destruction and burning behind them, intent only on hiding for the next few minutes until the castle was taken.

Toby, by the gatehouse ruins, saw the great spike of flame, saw the sheet of fire that followed which outlined the tall chimneys of the Old House. His men stared, aghast, and then there was a thunder of hooves mixed with the noise of the exploding powder, and Toby turned. “Your front! Take aim!”

The Lobsters stormed out of the darkness, wheeled their horses and fired pistols at the defenders. More men came from the west, their muskets spitting fire over the moat, but then, in the light of the fire, Toby saw a mass of the enemy moving toward the keep and the kitchen garden.

Most of the defenders in that area, he knew, would be dead or dazed. “Sergeant!”

“Sir?”

“Hold here with your men. The rest of you! Follow me!”

Ebenezer Slythe felt an exultation as he saw the enemy magazine destroy the keep. This he had prayed for! Lord Atheldene, when there had been a suggestion that a mine might be dug beneath some part of the castle’s defenses, had refused the suggestion. It was not an honorable way to fight, he said, not unless the garrison was given warning of the explosion and time to remove their men from the immediate area. Ebenezer had no such scruples. This was the vengeance of the Lord, the mighty hand of the Almighty come to earth, and he felt a sudden, unexpected excitement as the killing fragments of the disintegrating keep scythed outward and took death to Lazen Castle. Truly God was great!

The banners of the Parliamentarians surged forward. A cheer went up. The fire was bright on swords, pikes and helmets. The flags, bearing texts of scripture, forged ahead of the throng. Ebenezer smiled at Samuel Scammell and raised his voice: “‘The Lord is mighty in battle!’”