“How very sensible, girl.” Vavasour Devorax had come from the doorway.

Toby wrenched at the arms that held him. “You bastard!”

“Quiet, puppy.” Devorax seemed amused. “I don’t want to have to clean my sword just because you feel heroic.” He nodded to his men. “Take them inside.”

Campion looked at John Mason, one of the men who had rescued her and escorted her from London to the safety of Oxford. “Why? Why?”

Mason shrugged. “Do as he says, miss. You know it’s best not to cross him.” He gestured her to the doorway.

Inside the barn, where the candles had been lit, she saw her brother and, next to him, Sir Grenville Cony. Alive. She cried out, but Devorax pushed her toward the chairs. “Sit opposite your dear brother, girl.” He looked at Toby and sighed. “If you struggle, puppy, I’ll just have to tie you to the chair. Be sensible. Sit down.”

They sat. The guards stayed close to Toby and Campion. Devorax took the chair at the table’s head, put a square, leather travelling chest on the table before him, and smiled sweetly through the bars of his helmet. “I think we can begin now.”

Ebenezer smiled at Campion. She was trapped. The daylight had long since faded at the high windows either side of the barn. Outside, where the Blackwater met the sea, the ship snubbed at its anchors and waited for the tide to lift the waters over the mudbanks. Campion’s river had brought her to this place of desolation, this place of bleak sky, land, and sea: the end.

Thirty-three

Through the broken roof and windows came the forlorn sound of the gulls. The wind sighed as it bent the eelgrass eastward. The sea grumbled where it broke at the land’s edge.

Vavasour Devorax and Ebenezer Slythe smiled. Sir Grenville frowned. Toby held Campion’s hand beneath the table.

Devorax took a pistol from his belt and laid it next to the travelling chest. “Dearly beloved brethren, we are gathered here together so that two of us can become rich.” He laughed.

Ebenezer wore a black, fur-edged cloak. His own silver-hilted pistol lay beneath his right hand. He smiled at Campion. “Welcome, sister. You haven’t introduced me.”

Campion did not speak. Devorax laughed. “It seems that Lady Lazender has lost her tongue. Let me do the honors. Mr. Slythe? Allow me to name Sir Toby Lazender. Sir Toby?” Devorax gave a mocking bow in his chair. “I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Sir Grenville Cony. He’s the fat one opposite you. Like you, he is my prisoner.”

A guard stood close behind Sir Grenville, as men stood close behind Toby and Campion. She did not understand, thinking Sir Grenville to be among her enemies, and Devorax saw her confusion. He laughed. “Your brother and I have gathered the seals, girl.” The big soldier looked at Sir Grenville. Devorax seemed entirely at his ease, sprawled casually in the chair. “Lady Lazender thought you dead, Sir Grenville, a fact that gave her confidence in me. Her assumption was premature, but not by very much.”