Redemption
(The Hacker Chronicles, Book 2)
By Philip Yorke
The calamitous defeat forces the increasingly desperate Royalists to intensify their attempts to bring about the immediate demise of their Parliamentarian enemies. This includes devising an audacious plan to assassinate the man they believe is key to the war’s outcome.
With the plotters ready to strike, Francis Hacker, one of Parliament’s most loyal soldiers, becomes aware of the conspiracy. With little time to act, he does everything in his power to frustrate their plans. But, alas, things start to unravel when brave Hacker finds himself pitted against a ruthless and cunning mercenary, a man who will resort to anything to achieve a ‘kill’.
The sky is clear and dark as I rise early on the morning of the twenty-fifth day of February and go on a brisk walk around the grounds of the old priory, marvelling at the wonders of Creation.
It is over a week since I returned to my men and military life. Since I resumed command of the Kirby Bellars garrison, I have been pleased with the speed in which I have readjusted to living the solitary life of a soldier. Knowing Rowland is alive and the threat of execution has been lifted is a huge source of comfort.
When I return to my chambers, I barely have time to take my coat off before there is a sharp rap on the door. Such is the impatience of my visitor; I don't have time to respond before the door opens and Needham strides in. His face carries the appearance of a man weighed down by fatigue, worry and fear.
“Captain, forgive me for this untimely intrusion, but we have just received new orders from Colonel Rossiter,” he says as he enters. “It seems the enemy is on the move and heading in our direction.”
I look at the young Cornet, my irritation at his curt and official manner quickly replaced with curiosity and a significant degree of alarm. I extend my right hand, gesturing for Needham to surrender Rossiter’s dispatch.
“Quick, man,” I bark, as Needham hesitates, unnerved by my agitation and directness. “Let me see it for myself.”
When I have read the hastily written note, I can see why Needham correctly thought it important I was made aware of the facts as soon as possible. For it seems Sir Marmaduke Langdale, one of the King's most celebrated commanders, has departed Oxford and is now making his way northward via Market Harborough and Melton Mowbray. With him is the Northern Horse, a force comprising almost three thousand fighting men.
Langdale has been ordered by the King to relieve Pontefract Castle in his home county of Yorkshire. Rossiter’s assessment is that after leaving Charles two days ago, the enemy could be in Leicestershire in less than twenty-four hours.
Reacting quickly and effectively to the challenge posed by this large force is clearly of the essence as Parliament may only have one opportunity to stop the Royalists before they reach their destination and attempt to relieve Pontefract’s besieged garrison.
“The Colonel makes it sound as though he is keen to engage with Langdale,” adds Needham, referring directly to Rossiter’s command to muster the men and prepare for action. “But do we really have enough time to assemble a credible force to halt them and gain a valuable and morale-boosting victory?”
It is a good question, and I inform Needham so. I also tell the young man I think it highly unlikely we will be able to call on the services of more than a thousand Parliamentarians from the combined Leicester, Melton, Grantham, Stamford and Derby militias, so any force we are able to put in the field against the Royalists is likely to be heavily outnumbered.
“You do the calculation, my friend,” I say seriously. “I am all for fighting when the odds are more equal, but it may prove a folly in the extreme to seek combat with a much larger group of capable and dangerous men.”
With nothing more to discuss and my mood becoming sombre, I dismiss Needham, who clearly has a lot to contemplate as he prepares for his first taste of serious action. Before he leaves my company, I ask him: “Tell me, young friend, do you believe in the power of prayer?”
Confused by the bluntness of my question, the young man struggles to reply. So I try again: “It is simple enough, Needham,” I say. “Either you do, or you don’t. So what is it to be?”
Seeking to avoid direct eye contact, Needham replies awkwardly: “I certainly do, sir, although I find it hard to find the time to pray as regularly as I would like. Why do you ask?”
Shaking my head, I laugh aloud as I respond.
“That’s very good, Needham. I am delighted to hear it,” I say, my sarcasm all too evident. Looking directly at the young officer, I add: “I suspect we will all be in need of our God come tomorrow evening. May I suggest that before you take to your bed tonight, you make haste to the chapel and get down on your bended knees, for the more men like us call on our Maker to intercede, the more likely some of us will be allowed to live through the madness of the next forty-eight hours.”
Once Needham has left me, I sit down and devour the content of Rossiter’s hastily written order.
I tried to make light of my concerns in front of Needham, failing miserably in the process, for with just cause, I have reservations about the wisdom of the Colonel's intentions.
I move closer to the window and candles, so Rossiter’s words are more legible. As the flickering light illuminates the vellum, I make out the following words:
“My dear Captain Hacker.
“I have today received news that will raise the spirits of any Parliamentarian who is keen to bring about an early resolution to this terrible war.
"It is our good fortune to be able to deal the King's forces a crushing blow in the coming hours. You and I have waited many long months to avenge that dark day in November 1643, when Melton's garrison was surprised by Gervase Lucas, an event that led to our unfortunate imprisonment. But God is good, and the morrow, we will have an opportunity to seek our long-awaited revenge.
"Sir Marmaduke Langdale and the Northern Horse are riding towards us as I write. I intend to challenge them on favourable ground after they have departed Market Harborough, thereby bringing about their demise.
"I have sent word to Colonel Gell in Derby, summoning him to a general muster at Belton. I ask you to bring your Company of Horse to the same rendezvous. Be there by ten o'clock in the morning. When all are assembled, we will seek to confront the enemy and end their plans to relieve Pontefract Castle.
“May God be with you and your men.”
Such has been Rossiter’s haste in writing out his communiqué the Colonel has forgotten to put his signature to his words. Should I wish to, I have the right to ignore the command, claiming its provenance to be, at best, uncertain. However, I clearly recognise the author’s hand and know it to be genuine. Rossiter is also a friend, and I will not turn my back on him, regardless of the foolhardiness of the edict.
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Philip Yorke
Redemption, the second book in the series, is set during the period 1644-46 (during the first English Civil War), when events take a significant turn in favour of Parliament.
Philip is married, and he and his wife have five children. He enjoys relaxing to classical music, reading the works of Nigel Tranter, Bernard Cornwell, Robyn Young and CJ Sansom, and supporting Hull City FC and Leicester Tigers RFC.
He lives in Leicestershire, England.
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