Traitor’s Game, Excerpt by Rosemary Hayes

1808.

Captain Will Fraser has just returned from the Front in the Peninsular War. He is disgraced and penniless, the victim of a conspiracy led by a jealous and influential officer. Fraser has been falsely accused of insubordination and cowardice and dismissed from his regiment.

Fraser and Duncan Armstrong, his wounded Sergeant, arrive in London to seek out Will’s brother, Jack, who works for King George’s Government.

But Jack has disappeared. He vanished from his lodgings a week ago and no one has seen him since. Friends and colleagues are baffled by his disappearance as is the young woman, Clara, who claims to be his wife.

Then Will is viciously attacked, seemingly mistaken for his brother, and only just escapes with his life. When news of this reaches Jack’s colleagues in Government, Will is recruited to find his brother and he and Armstrong set out to follow a trail littered with half-truths and misinformation.

For their task is not quite what it seems.

Will closely resembles his brother and it becomes evident that he is being used as a decoy to flush out Jack’s enemies. These are enemies of the State, for Jack Fraser is a spy and his colleagues believe he has uncovered evidence which will lead to the identity of a French spymaster embedded in the British Government.

Will’s search leads him to France but in this murky world of espionage, nothing is straightforward.

The soldier turned spy must unmask a traitor, before it’s too late.

Excerpt

At the Stag, Armstrong and Tom the fisherman were waiting, Tom pacing up and down the street outside. Armstrong had Will’s haversack packed and ready for him.

‘What kept you?’ asked Armstrong, handing it over.

‘There was a delay at The Swan,’ said Will.

‘There’s no time to waste,’ said Tom. ‘We must leave at once.’

Will nodded and shouldered his haversack. It was very dark now and the streets were deserted as they walked silently towards the cliffs, Tom holding a lantern to guide them. He was in an ill mood and swore at Armstrong when he stubbed his foot on a cobble and let out a cry of pain.

‘Quiet man!’

No one spoke as they trudged forward and began climbing up the steep path, but Will knew that Armstrong was struggling to keep up and he was relieved when Tom reached a group of men working at something on the top of the cliff and stopped to exchange a few words with them. It was too dark to see exactly what was happening but it was obvious that something was being constructed – and beside the men there were two horse drawn carts.

Will and Armstrong hung back and waited for Tom to re-join them. Will was curious about what the men were doing and he was about to enquire when he remembered that he was supposed to have made this journey before so it was likely that he should know. He kept silent, but then Armstrong spoke for him.

‘What were those fellows doing?’ he asked as they continued walking.

‘Setting up the derrick,’ said Tom shortly.

‘So they will be winching goods up from the shore then?’

‘Aye,’ said Tom.

‘Ah,’ continued Armstrong. ‘Then they’ll drive them to places of concealment, I warrant.’

Tom grunted and Will could sense his irritation but Armstrong kept questioning him.

‘Where do they take the goods?’ he asked.

Tom stopped suddenly and turned to Armstrong, holding the lantern to his face.

‘Hold your tongue Sergeant,’ he snapped. ‘It’s none of your bloody business.’

Armstrong said no more but just raised his eyebrows in the darkness.

They walked on in silence, then suddenly Tom stopped, looking out to sea. The other two followed his gaze and saw a light in the distance, flickering on and off. Neither Will nor Armstrong questioned Tom, but Armstrong whispered to Will.

‘Do you reckon that’s our vessel, sir?’

Will had no time to answer for suddenly Tom veered off to the right and then stopped. He waited for them to catch up and then he held the lantern up so they could see the deep fissure in the rock beneath them.

‘This is our way in,’ he said, and started easing himself down. As he reached the edge of the fissure he extinguished his lamp and turned to the others. ‘It is only a short drop into the cave.’ And then, of a sudden, he had disappeared.

Gingerly, the others followed him. ‘I hope you trust this man, sir,’ whispered Armstrong as he eased himself over the edge. Will heard him land inside and utter a loud curse, then he, too, followed.

Tom had relit the lantern and Will and Armstrong marvelled at the sight before them. They were in a high natural tunnel with a sandy floor and walls which were cold and damp to the touch. Tom was already walking along the tunnel which sloped gently downwards for some way and then opened out into a larger cave in which were neatly stacked some barrels and boxes.

‘So, not all the goods are winched up then,’ muttered Armstrong.

Tom seemed to have recovered his humour. ‘Some are stored here for later collection,’ he said. ‘Depends on their destination.’

‘What do they contain?’ asked Armstrong.

Tom shrugged. ‘Brandy and gin,’ he said. ‘And French textiles. There’s much demand for French textiles in London.’

Will thought back to the sumptuous furnishings he had seen at Montagu’s house.

I wonder if some of those came from a less legitimate route than through those dealers he spoke of.

They walked on, the ground below them sloping ever downwards and before long they could hear the sound of waves breaking on the shore and then, of a sudden, they came out onto a small cove. Here there were more men sorting barrels and boxes at the entrance of the cave, some shouldering boxes or rolling barrels to be winched up to the cliff top, some taking them to be stored inside the cave.

Although Tom acknowledged the men with a nod, the group spoke only to direct others on where to place the goods and the only constant noises were the men’s grunts of effort as they shifted them. Some glanced over at Will and Armstrong but most ignored them. Tom went to one of the men and they had a brief conversation in low tones, Tom nodding and gesturing, then he came back.

‘The galley is anchored around the other side of the cove and most of the goods have been offloaded so we can row out to her now.’ Then he led them down towards the water where several rowing boats were tied to jutting out pieces of rock. He gestured to one and told them to take off their boots, wade out to it and get on board.

As Will was helping Armstrong with his boots, he sensed the fear in the Sergeant’s eyes. Although Will, too, was very uneasy, he tried to make light of their predicament.

‘Never fear Sergeant,’ he said. ‘I’m a strong swimmer. If they tip us out I’ll hold you up.’

Armstrong didn’t answer.

When they were seated, rocking fearfully in the shallows, Tom pushed them out into deeper water, jumped nimbly into the boat and took the oars. By now the moon was up but the sea below them was inky black and there was a swell which lurched the little vessel from side to side.

‘We’re in luck,’ said Tom. ‘No need for false light, nature’s showing us the way.’

They could not see each other clearly but Will noticed that Armstrong was clinging to the side of the boat with his good arm and he could imagine the clenched jaw and terror writ large on his face.

The only sound was the splashing of the oars as they hit the water and, as they rowed further out, the slapping of the waves in the distance, reaching the shore. Tom was keeping the boat, as far as he was able, parallel to the shoreline and Will could sense the cliffs towering above them.

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Meet Rosemary Hayes

Rosemary Hayes has written over fifty books for children and young adults. She writes in different genres, from edgy teenage fiction (The Mark), historical fiction (The Blue Eyed Aborigine and Forgotten Footprints), middle grade fantasy (Loose Connections, The Stonekeeper’s Child and Break Out) to chapter books for early readers and texts for picture books. Many of her books have won or been shortlisted for awards and several have been translated into different languages.

Rosemary has travelled widely but now lives in South Cambridgeshire. She has a background in publishing, having worked for Cambridge University Press before setting up her own company Anglia Young Books which she ran for some years. She has been a reader for a well-known authors’ advisory service and runs creative writing workshops for both children and adults.

Rosemary has now turned her hand to adult fiction and her historical novel ‘The King’s Command’ is about the terror and tragedy suffered by a French Huguenot family during the reign of Louis XIV.

And Traitor’s Game, the first book in the Soldier Spy trilogy, set during the Napoleonic Wars, has recently been published.