"So you are saying this is some mass conspiracy?"
"Yes, m'lord. It goes beyond what we had anticipated even."
"And these priests are all called Benoit?"
"Yes, m'lord. They call them the Bene Jesuits."
Lord Sedgemore leaned back in his seat. This was serious stuff indeed. He dispatched his faithful servant Samuel Sowell to fetch two of his other men.
He looked at the letter and then started in his deep voice, "Sheriff, do you know when they will be landing."
"Tonight, m'lord. Not far from here. If we hurry we can get there before they do."
Lord Sedgmore didn't really like Sheriff Cowson much. His was not a smart man, but he was right about this.
"Samuel?"
"Yes, m'lord" the servant said.
"Get my swords."
*********
The boat glided nearly silently to the dock. Lord Brismere was there to greet the French priest and his body guard.
"Salutations, mon ami. Est tout prêt?"
"Oui mais mon Français n'est pas aussi bon que ma planification, pouvons nous parler en Anglais?"
"Oui, oui," said the French priest without a hint of irony.
"Now you take this and be careful with it," he said as he handed a large casket out of the boat up to Lord Brismere. It was the first of many.
The body guard said nothing as the three loaded the donkeys up with the supplies that the Priest had brought over. The powder was going to be put to good use.
Brismere noticed the guard's red cloak and breeches, he could see the colour even in the gloom of the night.
******
Sedgmore peered out from under his bushy eyebrows. Squinting in the foggy night he could make out movement by the docks, just were Cowson had said they would be.
His party moved forward around the building when a voice cried out from the docks "Halt! Who are you and what is your business?"
"It is I, Brismere. My business this night is with you and your treasonous plot. You shall not leave these docks alive."
Through the gloom came the sounds of swords being unsheathed, they were quickly answered by a similar noise from Sedgmore's men.
The blades glinted even in the little light that came through the fog from the stars above.
Not sure of their position or the number of men they faced Brismere stayed put. Sedgmore was happy to oblige, though and he and his men charged across the street towards the dock.
Making a bee line for Lord Brismere, Sedgmore was taken off guard by the speed of his red-clad friend. The man's blade was almost a circle it moved with such speed and grace and Sedgmore was forced back on the defensive. His men ran to tackle Brismere. Which was just as well because even with two blades he could barely keep up with the attacks from his opponent.
Brismere was hard pressed but then the Jesuit, Benoit ran up and clubbed the Sheriff on the knee. Brismere backed towards the combat between the Frenchman and his fellow Lord.
"I see you have met Jeane-Jacque Boisserolle Lanier Daulle."
Forced back on his heels Sedgmore was too winded to respond. But he saw that all was not going Brismere's way. Sheriff Cowson had just cracked the priest across the forearm with his sword. The man may not be smart but he was strong as a bear. The cracking of bone was audible even above the blood pounding in Sedgmore's ears and that damned whooshing noise his opponents sword made.
Then Samuel stepped in and clubbed the priest in the head with the butt of his halberd and the priest dropped like an shot eagle falling out of the sky.
Brismere had not missed this either and leapt, too late, to the priest's defence. His blade caught Samuel right under the rib cage and down the man went. The blade went through the body and Sedgemore could see his tunic bulge out the other side before Brismere withdrew the weapon and Samuel crumpled into a heap.
With his long thrust though he had left himself exposed and Cowson and one of the other men rained blows on him. His helmet and breast plate stopped most of the attacks but now and again they would score a hit on his unarmoured arms or legs.
Where was Brismere famous wit now.
One of his men, overly ambitiously, charged the J-J. This allowed Sedgmore to slip out of the combat and attack Brismere. As Brismere parried with his long blade Sedgmore stuck his own short blade into Brismere's left arm.
A gurgle that would have been a scream announced that Sedgmore's respite was over.
And J-J was on him again. But this time Sedgmore was the quicker and stuck his little blade through his opponents cheek.
It was not a serious blow though as the Frenchman's arm stopped Sedgemore's attack before he was able to drive it through more than a little flesh. Seemingly igonring the pain J-J leapt to the attack again and it was Sedgmore's turn to feel the bite of steel as the man deftly avoided parries to nip chunks of flesh out of the English Lord's legs.
Taking the hint Sheriff Cowson and John Holles chased after Brismere as he tried to get back to the boat. They managed to cut him off from the boat the French had come in and he instead retreated towards another. Brismere's clothes were stained black with his blood at this point. None of the wounds were fatal as his vitals were well protected but his arms were starting to drag from the wounds and his legs felt leaden.
Holles finally swung too wide and left himself open. Brismere's sword point caught him right below the left eye and while he was no longer strong enough to break the bone the sword point slid up the unyielding surface until it found somethign that would, his eye. Just leaning forward a bit Brismere was able to put 4 inches of the blade into the man's head.
More blood stained Brismere's clothes but this time it was not his.
As he yanked his sword free he was caught by the savagery of Cowson's next attack. The blow staggered him and he reeled back. With his hand numb from the last Brismere missed his next parry and Cowson's sword landed on his wrist neatly breaking it.
Realizing that the jig was up Brismere turned and ran, but Cowson was on him too quickly. The man's sword battered against his breast plate as he turned around. The man was out for blood. Staggered again he tried to raise his left arm to ward off the next blow but Cowson was quick enough to hit him again in the chest, avoiding the arm. The man struggled to stay on his feet. But then he found, as he staggered backwards that there was nothing for his feet to find purchase on.
The splash turned the Frenchman's head. He didn't see Brismere anymore and that Sheriff was now on the docks alone.
The momentary distraction allowed Sedgmore an opening but it was not enough. J-J turned the attack aside and cut a deep gash in Sedgemore's right leg. Finally the man fell, even his famous grit could not keep up with the pain in his legs.
J-J moved with purpose towards the Sheriff, who rightly realized that he had met his match. He back away slowly and then turned and fled.
he peered over the side but could not see Brismere. With his only contact in England inevitably drowning and the sound of men coming in this direction, no doubt alerted by the sounds of the melee, he ran down the bank of the river and disappeared into the fog of the night.
With Brismere dead and Benoit captured the gunpowder would not be delivered. Fawkes would have to find his own powder.
