Free Drums of War by Edward Marston Page A

until he was thoroughly dazed. Before the soldier could
recover, Daniel had snatched the pillow and held it down over his face so that
he could not cry out for help. Struggling frantically, the man tried to throw
him off but Daniel was too strong and determined. With his life at stake, he
had no sympathy for his victim. Grabbing his dagger from the bed, he inserted
it between his adversary's ribs and thrust it home. The soldier gave a muffled
gurgle and went limp.
    Daniel
had his shoes and coat on in an instant. He put the money and the documents
back in the saddlebags then retrieved the pistol from the floor. The next thing
he did was to haul the soldier on to the bed and cover him with a sheet. After
blowing out the candle, he climbed nimbly through the window and dropped to the
ground. Ten minutes later, Marcel Daron was riding hard along the road to
Paris.

Chapter Six
     
    Kees
Dopff was a small, thin, shy, sinewy man in his late twenties with a mobile
face under a thatch of red hair. Mute since birth, he conversed by
gesticulating with his hands or by rearranging his features into any one of a
whole range of expressions. After serving Emanuel Janssen as an apprentice,
Dopff had eventually become his trusted assistant but his talents were not
confined to the loom. He was a gifted cook who prepared all the meals in the
house, sparing them the trouble of hiring an outsider. When they had first
moved to Paris, they had inherited a French servant but Janssen felt that she
was there to watch him and dispensed with her services. The four of them had
learnt to manage on their own.
    Every
time that Amalia Janssen left the house, she'd been followed and that unsettled
her greatly. Beatrix was too frightened to venture out on her own so Dopff had
taken over all the errands. He liked going to market because he could choose
the ingredients for the various dishes in his repertoire. When he was not in
the kitchen, he was following Janssen's orders and continuing to work on the
tapestry that was now so close to completion. He was busy at the loom when
Amalia came through the door. Dopff broke off immediately.
    'I'm
sorry to interrupt you, Kees,' she said, getting a quiet smile in return. 'I
was upstairs when I heard you come back. Did you see the man again today?'
Dopff nodded. 'Did he follow you?' There was a shake of the head. 'Was it the
same man as yesterday?' Dopff nodded again, using his hands to describe the
man's height and girth. 'Did he threaten you in any way?'
    The
weaver shook his head again but Amalia knew that he was lying. Dopff was
capable, conscientious and extremely loyal but he lacked courage. The person
watching the house intimidated him as much as the two women. Nevertheless, he
wouldn't hesitate to protect them if they were in danger even though he could
only put up a token defence. He was more than just an assistant to Emanuel
Janssen. Dopff had become a member of the family, an adopted son whose
disability was at once accepted and ignored. He was made to feel that he had no
handicap at all.
    When
she looked at the tapestry yet again, Amalia had serious misgivings. It was as
resplendent and detailed as all of her father's work. It would be much admired
when it graced a wall at Versailles. She was, however, disturbed by its subject.
It was a depiction of a battle fought almost forty years ago when the French
invaded the Spanish Netherlands during the War of Devolution. Under the command
of the brilliant Marshal Turenne, the invading army had captured Douai,
Tournai, Lille and other cities, annexing Artois and Hainault in the process.
It dismayed Amalia that her father was celebrating a French victory on the
battlefield. Janssen had argued that it was an honour to have his work hanging
in the most celebrated palace in Europe and that it did not matter what it
portrayed. He claimed that he was serving his art rather than anything else.
    As
she viewed it once more, Amalia was struck anew by its subtle blend of