Absolute Honour by C.C. Humphreys

Author:C.C. Humphreys [Humphreys, C.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781409138587
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2011-09-29T06:00:00+00:00

When the door opened on what Jack thought was the fifth day of his captivity – time was hard to track in that near lightless world – he assumed it would be as every previous visit had been: a man bringing in water and some unidentifiable food once a day, another man warding him with cudgel or gun. But this time was different.

One of them stood in the doorway. He crooked a finger. ‘You. Now.’

Jack, who had been standing on his hands against the wall in an effort to alleviate the boredom, dropped onto his feet. ‘Where?’ he asked apprehensively. He wasn’t sure he would get a trial. He suspected that many who came into Turnville’s orbit didn’t.

The man just crooked the finger again. Another man, the one with the cudgel, stood behind him. Jack had no choice. ‘Delighted,’ he said.

The room three floors above was hardly ornate, simply an ordinary drawing room fitted out as a study. Yet the green of the patterned wallpaper was almost sickeningly vibrant after the cell. And though he could see rain falling through the tall windows, the day still appeared brighter than any summer he could remember. He stood there blinking, first at that light, then at the man behind the huge oaken desk.

Dawkins was also there, and he and the cudgel man stood behind Jack at the door. Turnville was writing. ‘Get him a chair,’ he said quietly, not ceasing his scratching, not looking up. One was brought, and Jack was forced roughly onto it. The men returned to their post. Silence, save for rain and the moving nib, lasted minutes. At last, Turnville looked up.

‘I have your confession here,’ he said, spinning a paper around, dipping and then holding out the quill to Jack. ‘I have most of the details, I believe. Treason, murder, conspiracy. Usual stuff. Just sign at the bottom.’

Jack made no move forward. ‘Why would I do that?’

‘Because it will save your life, boy.’ The goose feather was still held out. ‘His Majesty has decided, based on your military service, your youth and your family’s formerly good name, to spare you the noose. You will be transported, of course. To the Indies probably, where, if the fever doesn’t get you and you live ten years, they may make you a free man again.’

Jack had experienced slavery with the Abenaki and fever aboard the Robuste. He wanted neither experience again. But the noose? In life, at least there was hope. He leaned forward, read: ‘I, Jack Rombaud Absolute, do hereby confess to be a foul traitor to England and her glorious King George …’

He shook his head. ‘It’s a lie. I cannot sign it. Hang me for a fool, if you must. But I will not live as a slave and a traitor.’

The Colonel sighed. ‘Are you quite sure?’

Jack felt his throat tighten – perhaps in anticipation. While he could still speak, he said, ‘Quite.’

‘Good lad,’ said Turnville. Lifting the paper, he ripped it swiftly from end to end. ‘Would have been very disappointed if you had.

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