*
Morning broke crisp and clear, and despite sleeping on nothing more than a blanket on some old straw, Jane felt energized. After the stress of the escape the previous day, she looked forward to the prospects of the future. A lush green valley of opportunity lay below her and she was ready to begin.
Her positive attitude buoyed her companion and Lord Lodge led their descent from the shepherd’s hut after a quick meal. Unlike the thick forests they had climbed through the day before, this side of the mountain was more open with only small pockets of trees. This provided a more dynamic view, which Lodge used to point out various spots he was acquainted with.
“How is it that I’ve never heard of these villages, or knew of people living here?” she asked after another farm was pointed out to her.
“The valley is still nominally owned by the Manor; those who live here do not advertise the fact. Very few people travel in or out of the valley, as the two mountain ranges create a treacherous wall. There are only a few passes that offer a safe passage, such as the one we just traveled over. There’s a gap in between the two mountain ranges, but that is where the Manor is located, so that route into the valley is generally avoided.”
Jane nodded, understanding the implication. Though the Lords of the Manor might tolerate a scattering of farmers in the expansive valley, they would not be so kind to travelling caravans passing through their estate.
“Plus I suppose us simple people of the island are content in our ignorance. That we avoid stepping into the world outside our small lives?” She offered astutely, but with a hint of cynicism. “I know you’re too polite to say it, but that’s also a factor isn’t it.”
Lodge merely smiled in response, but then decided to say something to diminish her developing frown. “I lent you all those books so you could read them and develop your mind. Take this as an opportunity to continue your education. I know more about this island than anyone else, except perhaps Tiberius.”
In that spirit Jane began asking questions about the history of the island, the Manor, and the various villages. They travelled in companionable conversation for the rest of the morning and were so engrossed in their discussions that they eventually realized they had descended the mountain and had reached the rolling hills below. They stopped for a break by a mountain fed creek to refill their canteens and Lodge removed the makeshift map from his pocket.
“Where are we headed?” asked Jane looking around them, ignoring the indecipherable map.
“There’s a small farm not far from here that we should be able to reach before nightfall. I know them well and expect a kind welcome.”
They ate some of the fruit and dried meat they’d taken from the Crow’s Nest, relaxing in the noonday sun by the banks of the creek. But after a half hour they were on the move again, heading east.
Having exhausted Jane’s inquisitiveness, the pair travelled the open countryside in silence. There were some wild animals going about their daily business, but very few signs of any human presence. Jane had seen a couple cabins in the distance throughout the afternoon march, but they had given them a wide berth. She assumed that Lodge either didn’t know the occupants, or knew them well enough to not trust them.
The sun was waning and inching closer to the horizon as they emerged from a stand of birch trees and came upon a wooden fence. It ran into the distance in both directions, offering no end in sight. Lord Lodge once again removed his map and pondered it quietly before climbing over the fence. He turned and helped Jane over, despite her initial solo attempt.
“The fence is new from the last time I was here, but I believe if we cross this field the farm should come in sight.” Within a few minutes of walking this proved true, as they crested a hill that overlooked the farm and its few buildings.
“Looks very nice. This must have been one of the first farms in the valley.”
“It is. They’ve been farming here for two generations,” Lodge said inattentively as he looked around. “Something’s not right here. Stay alert and by my side.”
As they approached the farm, Jane began to feel the same anxiety as Lord Lodge. Nothing looked particularly wrong, but she felt something was amiss.
“I’ve only been to a few farms, but isn’t there more activity?” offered Jane as they passed a shed and entered the farm yard. No dogs came to greet them and there were no voices coming from the barn or out buildings.
“Take this and keep it ready,” said lodge as he removed a small folding knife from his bag and handed it to her. “It’s not much, but it might be useful.”
As they approached the house, the front door opened and a tall thin man in coveralls and plaid shirt emerged and waved to them.
“Victor! Good to see you, I wasn’t expecting you and your daughter until the morning.”
Although he had cried out cheerfully, Jane could tell it was forced. Besides that she couldn’t remember another living soul, let alone a simple farmer, that called the Master of the Manor by his first name. Lodge gripped her hand tightly, signalling his own unease, as he led them to the house.
“We made very good time, even though we left the horses at home,” Lodge replied, quickly transforming into the neighbourly farmer with surprising ease. “It’d be a shame to hurry a journey in such great weather.”
They reached the stairs and began ascending them while the farmer continued to talk to them about weather. When they reached the top the two men shook hands like old friends, leaning in close. Jane thought she heard something whispered between them.
“You remember my daughter Jane?” Lodge motioned to her after they broke away from each other.
“Of course I do, though it must be years since I last saw her.” Her reached down and hugged her, whispering, “You’re not safe here. I’m sorry.”
The uneasy feeling in Jane’s stomach turned into an icy ball as she heard the apology. Unlike the convivial tone of his greeting, the farmer’s whispered warning had been withdrawn and fearful. However despite the warnings, Jane followed Lodge through the front door and into a cramped foyer. There were doorways to their left and right and a staircase that led up to the second floor.
Jane screamed in surprise as large men emerged from around the adjoining rooms and the balcony above. All pointed muskets at the newly arrived guests. The man to the right hit Lodge in the stomach with the butt end of his musket, eliciting a cry as he dropped to one knee. Jane went to help him up but was pulled back by a firm grip on her shoulder, making her wince in pain as he clamped down.
“Wha’s all this then Preston!” shouted the third man as he walked down the stairs. “You didn’t say nothun’ about no guests.”
“I forgot all about it until they showed up,” grovelled the farmer. “It’s nothing. They live in a cottage in the mountains.”
“Well at least the old man’s harmless,” he said upon reaching the floor and giving Lodge a backhanded slap across his head. “And he did bring us some fine sport.” He reached up and felt Jane’s hair between his two fingers, leering at her and waiting for a reaction.
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, she tried to just stare straight ahead and ignore him. But the reek of stale booze and sweat made here want to gag, forcing an involuntary flinch.
“Tie them up and put them in the room upstairs,” ordered the leader as he walked towards the kitchen. “We’ll finish off the last bottles and then have some more fun.”
Preston, Lodge and Jane were bound at the hands with some rough twine and then led up to one of the rooms upstairs. They were shoved into the darkness and the door was slammed behind them. A small wimper made Preston run over to the bed and light a candle with his tied hands. The flickering match lit the candle and steady light filled the room, giving Jane the most awful sight she had yet witnessed.
On the bed lay a woman she presumed was Preston’s wife. Her hands were tied to the head board and her legs were curled up into the fetal position. She wore nothing but a ripped up dressing gown and
a collection a discoloured bruises. Preston began stroking her head and whispering to her, both of them gently sobbing.
“What happened here?” asked Lodge as he sat in a chair in the corner, rubbing his abdomen. When no response came from the bed, he merely looked up at Jane.
Her years working in the Manor and the pub had not prepared her for the scene she now looked upon. However she knew that they couldn’t just sit around and wait until their captors returned. Walking over to the dresser she found a clean robe, a washbasin and a cloth. Jane placed them on a tray and brought them over to the bed and then gently touched the husband on the shoulder.
He looked up at her with eyes wide like a hunted animal. She knew his demeanour couldn’t be helping his wife, so Jane motioned for him to go and sit by Lord Lodge. After he left she removed the small knife from her pocket and cut the woman’s bonds. She then placed the cloth in the basin, rubbed it with soap, and then rung it out. Jane moved it slowly to the woman’s face, who clearly fought hard not to flinch when it made contact. She started at the wife’s brow and slowly worked down, rinsing and applying soap to the cloth as required.
“Preston, what happened?” repeated Lodge as the farmer sat down on the foot of the bed across from him.
“My Lord…” began the farmer, but was immediately cut off by Lodge.
“My name is Victor. You did well to hide my identity when we arrived. If they were to discover that, matters could certainly turn worse.”
“Or better. Surely if they knew the Master of the Manor was here they’d leave right away?”
“Would they?” mused Lodge, mostly to himself. “I’m not so sure. The fact they arrived here when we did must certainly be a coincidence. But the fact that ruffians like these are roaming the valley is not.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Well my dear Preston,” sighed Lodge looking over to Jane as she finished cleaning the wife up, “we’re on the lam, as they say.” Seeing the incomprehension on the man’s face he continued. “We have just escaped imprisonment of our own at the hands of Lord Cleaver.”
“How is that even possible?”
“It was carelessness and ennui on my part, however now I see how badly things have become.”
“But surely Cleaver couldn’t have let these thugs loose after discovering our escape?” asked Jane as she put the wash basin away and unfolded the new robe.
“No the timings are too tight. I believe there has been an unacceptable amount of strife in this valley long before we were sent to the Crow’s Nest,” Lodge replied to Jane thoughtfully before turning back to the farmer. “Preston, has there been talk in the valley about strange incidents?”
“There’s been rumblings,” nodded the farmer. “Talk of things being stolen, barns burned, but nothing like this.”
“Tell me what happened, where are your children?”
“Luckily they left yesterday to take some sheep over to the Malloy’s, thank heavens. If my daughter had been here…”
“When did they show up?” ordered Lodge, trying to keep Preston talking before he broke down again.
“Just passed midnight, liquored up and singing. We figure they’d move on through but they stopped here. I had my rifle with me when their leader came up to the front door asking to sleep in the barn. Before I could answer he spotted my gun and he barrelled through the door, knocking me down. My wife screamed and the others ran in and grabbed us. They took my guns and tied us up in the kitchen, then helped themselves to our food and some ale.”
Jane listened to the story as she helped the wife into the gown and received a brief shadow of what was once a shining smile. A jug beside the washbasin provided some water, which Jane used to pour everyone in the room a quick drink.
“After having their fill and getting drunker,” Preston continued staring at the floor unable to meet anyone else’s eyes, “they took Alice upstairs…”
Silence enveloped the room, enough that they could hear a renewed ruckus from the revellers downstairs.
“They will pay for this my friend,” promised Lodge coldly. “Have they said anything about their intentions?”
“They haven’t talked to us directly apart from threats,” began Preston as he raised his head to look directly at Lodge. “But I overheard them say they planned to kill us when the rest of their gang arrived and then take over our farm.”
Chapter 19
A Malevolent Manner (Patrick Pierce #1) Page 67