Velvet Chains (Historical Romance) (2 page)

Read Velvet Chains (Historical Romance) Online

Authors: Constance O'Banyon

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #Nautical, #American Revolution, #18th Century, #Sailing, #Sea Voyage, #Ocean, #VELVET CHAINS, #Adult, #Adventure, #Action, #Pirate, #British, #Captain, #Kidnapped, #Ransom, #American Patriot, #Redcoats, #Captive, #Freedom, #Escape, #Spirited, #Will To Resist, #Abductor's Eyes, #Possessing, #Rebelled, #Linked Fate, #Bound

BOOK: Velvet Chains (Historical Romance)
7.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"Do you know this for a fact?" Silas spoke up.

"Yes, I have it on good authority. One of you in this very room is a Judas. One of you has sold out his fellows for money."

"Tell us who the man is!" Wallace Tuddle demanded. "Reveal him to us so that we might put an end to his miserable life!"

"Yes, tell us," everyone agreed.

"Raven, do you know who this man is?" Silas asked grimly.

"I know," came the deep reply.

"Expose him to us!" the man called Dawson cried out, waving a pistol in the air, only to have it wrenched from his hand by The Raven.

"Would you fire off your piece here and have the redcoats come swarming into the room?" The Raven said, shoving a befuddled Dawson down into a chair.

Each eye was trained on The Raven as he walked leisurely around the table, studying every man's face with eyes that seemed to burn through the slits of his helm. The occupants of the room could feel the tension mounting. Each one waited for The Raven to speak again.

At last The Raven stopped in front of Wallace Tuddle, who seemed to cringe visibly before the close scrutiny of the man behind the hood.

"Here is your traitor, gentlemen. Wallace Tuddle!"

Tuddle's mouth gaped open as he shook his head, seeming to have lost his voice for the moment.

"How can that be? I have known him for twenty years," Silas said, coming to Tuddle's defense. "All of us here know him well—he is one of us. He would never betray us." Others nodded their agreement.

Tuddle stood up slowly, never taking his eyes off The Raven. At last he found his voice. "How can you accuse me? Was I not the one who sent word for you to come here tonight? My God, would I have asked you here if I were the traitor you accuse me of being?"

Deep menacing laughter came from behind the hood. It wasn't a pleasant sound and it held no humor. "Do you think me a fool, Tuddle? I happen to know you think when that clock strikes nine this room will be rushed by redcoats and every man here will be arrested as a spy ... all but one. You, Tuddle! No doubt the rest of us would have suffered the same fate as George Dale, each dangling from a hangman's noose.

Wallace Tuddle looked upon the faces of his contemporaries, reading doubt and distrust in their eyes. "You all know me. Hell, most of you have dined at my home or I in yours. On the other hand, what do you know of this man that calls himself The Raven? My God, how can any of you take the word of a man who hides his face against mine?" Tuddle cleared his throat nervously. "Listen to me. I charge that he is the spy, not I!"

Before anyone could answer, The Raven grabbed Tuddle in a fierce headlock and swung him around to face the other men. A dagger appeared from somewhere among the folds of The Raven's black cloak, and he held it at Tuddle's throat.

"I have to give you credit, Tuddle. If your plan had worked tonight, you would be hailed as a hero by the British. How much did they pay you to set up your friends? Thirty pieces of silver?" The Raven hissed. "Did you wish to sweeten the pot by handing me over to them as well?"

"Raven, are you quite sure of your allegations?" Silas asked. "Could there be no mistake?"

Again they heard the ominous laughter. "It is well that you question me, Silas Dunsberry. We live in dangerous times where friend turns against friend. It is not wise to take a man at face value, as Tuddle has proven. Let Tuddle speak of his own guilt." So saying, The Raven applied pressure to the dagger he held at the throat of the unfortunate Tuddle, drawing blood. "What say you, Tuddle? Do you die with a lie on your tongue, or do you speak the truth and cleanse your treacherous soul?"

By now the helpless Tuddle knew that he faced certain death. He began to whimper and whine. "What is the difference? You will kill me anyway!" he cried, staring up at the dark, hooded figure of The Raven.

"Of course you will die," The Raven stated matter-of-factly. "But . . . if you speak the truth, you will have a chance to defend yourself. Otherwise I shall end your miserable life here and now."

The other men in the room watched in disbelief. Each of them aware of The Raven's reputation with the rapier. Tuddle would have no chance in a match against him. Obviously the luckless Tuddle knew it too, for when The Raven released his hold on the man, Tuddle fell to the floor in a heap, grasping the black cape.

"I'm a dead man," he whimpered. "A dead man, with no one to stand in harm's way for me."

"Who knows, perhaps you can best me," The Raven said lazily. "Speak the truth and I will give you even odds," he whispered softly.

Tuddle scrambled to his feet. He could see by the faces that surrounded him, that everyone was now beginning to believe him to be guilty. Not a one of them would come to his aid. Suddenly he experienced overwhelming hatred toward the men he felt had deserted him in his hour of need. The need for revenge seemed to burn intensely within his body.

"I will see you all dead!" he raged. "Yes, I told the king's men to come here tonight. I also arranged for The Raven to be present. None of you will escape, for the hour of nine is upon you. You are all doomed!"

Someone at the back of the room muttered a loud oath and aimed his pistol at Tuddle's heart. The weapon was quickly knocked away by Silas Dunsberry.

"Let him be. He will receive his just reward from the worthy hands of The Raven," Silas said with feeling.

George Tuddle studied each face. He saw hatred mixed with disbelief on the faces of the men he had called his friends. He now knew his only salvation lay in stalling for time. He pulled his watch from his pocket and saw it was five minutes before nine. At any moment the redcoats would come swarming into the room. The Raven seemed to sense Tuddle's thoughts.

"Time is against you, Tuddle. Admit why you committed such a treacherous deed before I run you through," The Raven hissed, unsheathing his rapier and placing the sharp point at Tuddle's throat. "Face the men you have betrayed," he said softly. "Let them hear from your own lips how the deed was done so there will be no doubt in anyone's mind that you are guilty."

For the first time, Tuddle felt shame as he looked into the eyes of the men he had known most of his life. There wasn't a man among them that he hadn't supped with. He knew all their family members by name. He began to feel dismay at what he had done. Unable to look into the accusing eyes of his fellow patriots any longer, he turned his gaze to the man in the black leather helm. Suddenly he felt unbridled anger toward The Raven who had dashed all his hopes. He hadn't intended to be unmasked as a traitor. The plan had been that he would be arrested with the others and later released. In the beginning it had seemed so simple and impersonal. When he had planned for tonight, he hadn't known he would experience these feelings of shame and guilt. He had thought only of the money the British would pay him and of what it would mean to his family.

"It's true that I sent word to the British to come here tonight, with a message that I would turn over to them a nest of traitors. I also told my contact that I would try to have you here when they arrived, Raven." Tuddle tried to look past the hood to the man underneath. In a panic, he wondered how The Raven could have gotten wind of his plan. He had been very careful not to tell anyone what he was about. Did The Raven have some unholy power that permitted him to see into a man's soul? Tuddle wondered frantically.

"It will do none of you any good to try to flee. I gave my contact each of your names. There is nowhere you can hide. I'm willing to bet that at this very moment the tavern is swarming with redcoats, that they have the place surrounded." A satisfied smile came over Tuddle's face. "You would all do well to place yourselves in my hands. Perhaps I can convince the British to be lenient with you. Think of your families."

"You swine," Dawson shouted, moving across the room and grabbing the traitor by his coat front to shake him violently.

The Raven stepped forward, dislodged Dawson's grip, and shoved Tuddle down onto a chair.

"What shall we do?" Silas asked, looking to The Raven for guidance.

"Kill the traitor," Dawson cried out. "If what Wallace Tuddle said is true we have nothing to lose. Let the British find him swinging from the rafters when they burst in on us! Let his miserable life be a substitute for the life of George Dale—though a poor substitute it is."

"That will not be necessary, my friends," The Raven said. "May I suggest that each of you leave now in the least conspicuous manner. Go straight to your homes and have no fear. I can assure you the enemy does not know your identities, save Tuddle's and before too long he will be past harming anyone.

"How do we know we will not be set upon when we leave this room?" Dawson asked, voicing the concern of the others.

"You will just have to trust that I know what I'm talking about," The Raven assured them. "Have no fear for your safety, and leave me to deal with Tuddle."

The room became silent as each man weighed The Raven's words. There was something about him that did inspire trust, and after all hadn't he revealed Tuddle's treachery to them?

At that moment The Raven seemed larger than life. Although he was surrounded by mystery, he somehow seemed worthy of their confidence.

Silas Dunsberry was the first to react. He walked over to Tuddle and stared long and hard into his eyes. "I denounce you as a traitor. You received friendship from everyone in this room, only to flaunt that friendship before the enemy. If there is a lower form of life than you, I am not acquainted with it!"

Tuddle had the good grace to lower his eyes, unable to face his accusers.

"Silas Dunsberry, if you will do me the favor of leaving your rapier, since Tuddle doesn't seem to have one of his own, I would be in your debt," The Raven said in his disturbing voice. "I will ask that each of you leave now. As I said before, I shall deal with Tuddle in my own way."

Without reluctance, Silas handed over his rapier, knowing that Tuddle carried no weapon to defend himself. He felt some regret that the traitor's family would be forced to face alone the hostility occasioned by Tuddle's disloyalty because he doubted that Tuddle's wife, Sarah, or his daughter, Mary, knew anything about tonight's dealings. Silas raised his head and looked at The Raven.

"I am loath to think how his family will suffer because of Tuddle's dishonor, Raven."

"I will handle all the details. Rest assured no innocent person will be made to suffer unduly."

Once again a hush fell over the room as the men began to take their leave. Each man believed The Raven's assurance that no harm would come to them or their families.

Tuddle felt great fear as the room began to clear. His lips were so dry he had to moisten them with his tongue. He would have risen from the chair he was sitting on, but The Raven kept a restraining hand on his shoulder.

When the last man had departed, The Raven walked over to the door and shot the bolt. He then turned to face Tuddle who seemed to shrink visibly. The Raven took his rapier and the one Silas Dunsberry had given him, and threw them to the middle of the floor, where they landed point-down in the wooden floor and swayed drunkenly in the dimly lit room.

"I give you leave to choose the weapon with which I will end your life, Tuddle," the hooded man said softly and without feeling. The sound of his raspy voice was enough to send poor Tuddle down on his knees.

"I beg you, sir, have mercy. I have a wife and daughter who will suffer grievously if I should forfeit my life. Allow me to live, for I have seen the error of my ways," he pleaded.

The Raven seemed to swoop across the room, his black cape fanning out behind him, giving him the appearance of the bird from which he drew his name. Grabbing Tuddle by the coat front, he raised him into the air and dangled him there as if he weighed nothing.

"I liked you better when you didn't act the sniveling coward. I will show you the same mercy you would have shown your friends tonight, had not your plan miscarried. You are craven as well as traitorous. Arm yourself before I run you through," The Raven hissed.

Tuddle realized he would receive no mercy from this cold-hearted man. The only way he could survive would be to destroy him. The Raven lowered Tuddle to his feet and gave him a shove that sent him in the direction of the swords. The hooded man seemed in no hurry, and he waited patiently, allowing Tuddle to choose his weapon.

"But for you, I would be a wealthy man, Raven. My family and I would soon be on our way to London!" Tuddle cried, as he grabbed up a sword and lunged at the unarmed Raven. The Raven had anticipated Tuddle's move, however, and he quickly sidestepped the thrust. Laughing insultingly, The Raven grabbed the remaining rapier, and locked swords with his opponent.

"Had your plan worked tonight, Tuddle, you wouldn't have found the British as generous as you thought." The Raven taunted. "For all their faults, they like a traitor no better than I do."

When Tuddle struck, The Raven always anticipated him and easily parried his thrust. It soon became apparent to the now-desperate man that The Raven was only playing with him, humiliating him. The Raven was tireless. He deftly sidestepped or parried every move Tuddle made. Such a man was no match for The Raven, a master of swordsmanship who had the cunning of a fox.

When at last The Raven tired of toying with the traitor, he ripped the rapier from Tuddle's hand with the tip of his sword and sent it flying into the air to clatter on the floor some distance away. He then placed the tip of his blade at Tuddle's throat.

Other books

Winter's Knight by Raine, H.J., Wyre, Kelly
A Man Lies Dreaming by Tidhar, Lavie
Fresh Flesh by Todd Russell
Code of the Mountain Man by William W. Johnstone
Hard to Trust by Wendy Byrne
Literary Occasions by V.S. Naipaul
Daphne's Book by Mary Downing Hahn