Fire and Sword Read Free

could hear the distant crackle of flames and the sound filled him with alarm. Cresting the hill, he saw that his fears were justified. Down below him, blazing merrily in the sunshine, was the little farmhouse, the barn and the various outbuildings. It was a calamity. Everything that the farmer had stored against the winter had been destroyed.
    When the others joined him, Daniel barked an order.
    ‘Come on!’ he yelled. ‘We may still be able to save someone.’
    But he could see that it was a futile hope. As he led the charge down the hill, he watched the barn collapse and send up an enormous shower of sparks into the air. The roof of the house had already gone and the stable was a mass of charred timbers. There was no sign of the animals. Somewhere in the middle of the grotesque firework display was a family who’d come to Daniel’s aid in a crisis. He prayed that they were still alive. As the riders got closer, however, they were confrontedby a hideous sight. Staggering out of the house was the farmer, a human inferno, engulfed in flames, his clothes, his boots and even his hair and beard alight. Yelling in agony, he still had the strength to raise a defiant fist at the approaching redcoats.
    Reaching him first, Daniel leapt from his horse, pushed the farmer to the ground then rolled him over in an attempt to put out the blaze. He used his gloves to smother the flames on the farmer’s head and face. Instead of being thankful, however, all that the man could do was to curse and strike out at him.
    ‘It’s me,’ said Daniel, whisking off his hat. ‘Don’t you recognise me? I’m the man in the pigsty. I came to return your horse.’
    The farmer stopped struggling and stared in amazement.
    ‘Is it really you?’
    ‘What happened here?’
    ‘They stole everything,’ said the farmer, coughing badly. ‘They killed my son. I was tied up and made to watch while they took it in turns with my wife. They were animals . I only got free when the fire burnt through the ropes holding me.’ Writhing in torment, he peered up at Daniel. ‘I thought we were friends.’
    ‘We are, we are.’
    ‘Then why did you let them do it?’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Why did you let them burn us alive?’
    ‘This was nothing to do with me,’ said Daniel, mystified. ‘I swear it. I came here in good faith to thank you. We brought your horse and some provisions for you. Why should you blame me?’ He indicated the house. ‘This was the work of French soldiers, surely.’
    ‘No,’ said the farmer, eyelids fluttering and voice dying to a hoarse whisper. ‘They were British. They wore red.’

C HAPTER T WO
    January, 1708
    Amsterdam was carpeted by a heavy frost that obliged its citizens to wrap up in warm clothing and walk along its streets with careful feet. Traffic adjusted its normal hectic pace. Coaches and carriages no longer hurtled along so wildly and few horsemen moved at anything above a trot on the slippery surface. It was a cold and dangerous start to a new year. Gazing out of the window, Beatrix Udderzook was glad that she was in a warm house on such a cold day. She was a plump woman in her thirties with a podgy face and a nervous manner. When she saw a man slip on the icy pavement and fall to the ground, she let out a gasp of horror and brought both hands up to her mouth. The next moment, her anxious face was lit by a broad grin asshe spotted someone crossing the road towards the house. Beatrix ran out of the room as fast as her chubby legs would allow her.
    ‘Miss Amalia! Miss Amalia!’ she called up the stairs. ‘You have a visitor, Miss Amalia.’
    ‘Who is it?’ asked Amalia Janssen, appearing on the landing.
    ‘Captain Rawson.’
    ‘That’s wonderful! I’ll come at once.’
    ‘I’ll let him in,’ said Beatrix, determined not to be robbed of the pleasure. ‘I saw him first.’
    While Amalia descended the stairs, the servant rushed to fling open the door at the very moment when Daniel was about to ring