Page 53 of A Torn Allegiance
The same voice continued, and Hayes could do nothing but listen even though every part of him hummed with a desire to step into the room and demand they desist at once. “But our people are in place. The southern border is all but ours. They are weak. The Crown suspects nothing. And there is a dissatisfied faction that might join us.”
“Blast the English and the Oldenburg Navy.” Lamoreaux’s voice sounded as oily as ever.
Hayes’s anger rose, and a part of him wished to lay a fist in the man’s face—all their faces. The room was full of some of the most nefarious people in the war, in his mind—those who would work to turn a nation against itself, to give itself to a tyrant like Napoleon. They were encouraging traitors and liars. Hayes was hurt, deeply, that people within his own country would join such a venture. It would have been no less painful if a member of his own family had plunged a knife into his heart and wrenched it.
“We move against them there at the start of the next new year—that gives us ten months to get the troops into place.”
Hayes started, and his foot shuffled against the door.
The room went silent, and chairs scraped along the wood floor. It would not do to be caught in such a place. Hayes imagined they could make him disappear without so much as a whisper. No one but his hack driver knew of his whereabouts, and that man didn’t know who he was and certainly could be bought.
He raced back down the small corridor and out the door. The chilled night air cut into his lungs as he tore down the street and into the alley, but the hack driver had left. “Blast!” He ran faster down the alley, hoping to disappear down another, but none came. This alley was the longest he’d ever seen, and he would be visible from the street, were the men to come looking.
A pile of something at the side of a building looked promising as a place to hide, and he crouched against the wall, concealed by what looked like rubbish and smelled old and ripe. He covered his mouth so his heaving breaths brought in less of the smell and taste of the heap beside him.
No footsteps sounded. The alley was quiet, but he waited.
And then the heap shifted.
Hayes jumped but stayed low, squinting in the darkness.
“Need a place to hide, do ye?” From the sounds of it, the voice belonged to a man, though perhaps young.
Hayes peered into the mass at his side, and all he could see was a pile of old... clothes? Perhaps. But as the form shifted and the various items that had covered it fell off, Hayes could make out a face, a hat, and a rather thin person, who sat up taller. “You’re awfully gentlemanly to be in these parts.”
“Yes, I am. But I am no better than the next man.” He held out his hand, unsure what he would encounter in return. “Wilhelm. I’d be pleased to meet you.”
The silence that followed was thick, but then Hayes felt a dirty palm in his own. “Ruthers.”
“Good to meet you, Ruthers. I’d be most grateful if you could tell me a bit about where I’ve stumbled into.”
“This here’s the Lants. And people dressed like you don’t come here unless they’s up to no good.”
The accusation hung in the air for a moment before Hayes realized he owed the man an explanation.
“I was here because I hired a hack to follow the types of men who do come here up to no good. I overheard them talking just now, but I was so shocked at their plans, I made a noise, and fearing they heard me, I came running down this extraordinarily long alleyway.”
“That’s why I stay here.” Ruthers shifted. “No one comes down this way unless they live here.”
Hayes nodded. “Very wise. I don’t have anything else to recommend me, but if you had a bit of advice on how best to hurry away from here to find my friends, and avoid those who would do me harm, I’d be most grateful.”
Ruthers seemed to consider him. “There are good people here.”
Hayes nodded again, then realizing it might be too dark to see, added, “I believe that. Some of the best, I’d imagine, for how can you survive without helping each other and a lot of hard work besides?”
The man was quiet for a moment more and then said, “Come with me.”
Hayes breathed out in relief. Even though he knew nothing of this man, Ruthers seemed a better option than simply running blindly through the streets. Hayes now realized what a blunder he’d made in simply taking a hack, unaccompanied, out into the depths of London. He owed it to his family and his country to be more careful.
They moved along the alleyway, Hayes at the man’s side for several minutes of silence, and then Ruthers stopped and lifted his hand to a door. His swift knock of four in a row was answered by the door opening a crack.
Ruthers murmured something so soft and quiet Hayes couldn’t make it out, and then the door opened wider, and a solemn woman stood against the candlelight behind her.
She let them pass, and Ruthers led him into a room, unfurnished, though it appeared clean, or at least it was lacking any of the particularly strong smells Ruthers carried with him. The woman stood in the doorway to the room. “You can stay the night, but that’s all.”
Ruthers nodded and then made himself comfortable against a wall.
Hayes turned back to the woman. “I am in more need of a way out—a hack, donkey cart, anything.”
