Three Round Towers

by Beverley Elphick

  ‘Come,’ he said. ‘Follow me and mind where you walk, the wood be rotten.’

  We went into a barn that looked to be derelict. Light filtered through broken slats and spars and beneath my feet I could feel the fragility of the wooden floor.

  Sam helped me through a trapdoor and down a ladder. We were going into a black hole and I began to wonder if this was a trap.

  At the bottom of the ladder I blinked the dust clear from my eyes, my mouth was dry. I heard a tinder strike and at last I could see that we were in an underground cellar where my cousin was lying on a pile of sacks. I could smell the sourness of blood and distress. I knelt down at his side and tried to ascertain what was wrong.

  ‘We picked the bullet out,’ said Sam.

  ‘What with?’ I was horrified.

  ‘A knife. It weren’t deep.’

  ‘Did you sterilise the knife?’

  ‘Aye, I held it to the flame.’

  ‘Was he conscious?’

  ‘No. It had to be done quick like afore he came round. Did I do right?’

  ‘I don’t know, this is beyond my knowledge Sam. When did he get the bullet?’

  ‘Two days gone.’

  ‘Has he come round?’

  ‘Aye, but he seems to be raving now – can ’ee help?’

  ‘I’ll try. You will need to get me some things. I’ll need my bag and some clean water, is there a spring nearby? I will need thread and a needle and a very sharp knife.’

  I looked down at my cousin, he looked so much younger than I had thought him to be. His skin was sallow and clammy to the touch. ‘Sam, we really need the doctor, can you not fetch him?’

  ‘No! It’s as ma says, if they get their hands on him he’ll be lost. We’ve lived life in the rough for too long and there would be no mercy from the excise. You must do it for us cousin.’

  ‘Well, I’ll try. Fetch me my bag and the things I need. Some clean cloth too. You might need to go and see Mrs Jenkins and ask her to get me a needle and thread for stitches. If you tell her it’s for me and that your brother has cut his leg she might not question it. You will need to hurry Sam, we might not have long.’

  He vanished silently, but taking the ladder up, I was left in the gloomy cellar with naught but a candle for comfort.

  I tried to make Jeremiah comfortable and took his clothes off. There was clean water in a flask, which I used to sluice the wound. I surmised that Sam had to cut deep into the flesh to get the bullet out. The area round the cut was angry and infected. I searched his body for other wounds and found lots of scars from earlier injuries. My cousin had lived life hard. I also found strap marks where he looked as if he had been beaten. I wondered if that was how my grandfather had enforced his rules. What sort of man was he that would take his own daughter and get two children on her? She held my mother to be responsible for her downfall but surely the real culprit was the man that was their father.

  Once Jeremiah seemed comfortable on my improvised bedding and I had got used to the dim light I looked round the cellar. It was clearly a hiding place with evidence of the smuggling trade all around: signal lamps, ropes, crates, staves, waterproof carriers and sacks and finally at the furthest point from the entry, barrels. There was also a locked crate, not big enough to hold drink but maybe a stash for tea, salt or baccy, which would need to be kept free of damp.

  Sam had been gone a long time and I was getting cold and lonely. I hoped he would return before the candle guttered. I sat alongside my cousin and watched him closely. He was quiet and I thought it would be better to stitch him whilst he was unaware.

  I held the flask to his mouth and he swallowed a little. I just prayed that he was strong enough to recover from what was obviously an infected wound.

  It seemed hours before Sam returned with another man who seemed to know what was required. He built a small fire under a hole in the ceiling and put some water on to boil. I was able to clean the knife and needle in the boiling water. The thread had been supplied by Mrs Jenkins. I didn’t ask what tale Sam had spun. Both men held lamps over my patient as I did my best to cut away the infected flesh and swill the wound with clean water. I boiled up some of my herbs to help with healing and impregnated some cloth with the mix.

  Finally, I tried to draw some of the flesh together and stitch it. It wasn’t possible at one end of the wound so I had to resort to tight bandaging. I made a tisane and got some between Jeremiahs lips, which were gripped tight together. He must have been conscious while I worked but he had not cried out.

  I sighed, and shook my head at Sam. ‘I don’t know if that is good enough: he needs careful nursing and a change of dressings every day, the wound needs to be kept clean.’

  ‘We’re obliged to thee Esther; I will go and get you some blankets and food and more water. We’ll stay here this night.’

  ‘I can’t stay here!’ I gasped. ‘I will be missed – I’ve done what you asked now I must go home to Beth.’

  Sam smiled a slow almost lazy smile. ‘You be one of us now girl, there’ll be a price on your ’ead for ’elping such as we. I’ll leave you now with Digger, who’ll watch over you and my brother. Don’t think about trying to escape – you’ll never make it through the brooks alive.’

  He turned to Digger, ‘Don’ ’ee touch ’er boy we got plans for she. I be back before dark.’

  He was gone. Digger produced a flask and offered it to me. I shook my head, wanting nothing to do with him or my cousin. I huddled down and tried to put as much distance between me and my guard. He fixed his eyes on me and rarely looked away. I was petrified. Clearly these men had no moral standards and I could look for no help from them.

  I tried to shut down my fears and focus instead on my patient. His recovery would be my best opportunity to escape. If he died I might become expendable. Clearly there was no loyalty for me from this cruel family. No wonder my mother had run away.

  Jeremiah was groaning and I crawled over to him, my leg hurting at the hardness of the ground. His mind was wandering and I could hear fear in his delirium. He muttered constantly in dreams that seemed tortured. I hardened my heart and allowed no sympathy no matter what he had endured within his own family. He had forfeited my goodwill by the wickedness of his family’s deeds. That they had spilled blood in the pursuit of coin and strong drink was reason enough to turn my back. I would only seek to help him in the interest of my escape.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  I must have dozed because when I woke the man Digger was closer to me. Still he watched, his deepset eyes only shifting from me when he took a swig from his flask. He saw I was awake and grinned at me – I thought he looked like a wolf with his unkempt hair and yellow teeth. Once again he offered the flask saying something indecipherable. I shook my head and attempted to move further from him but there was nowhere to go. He grinned again and crept even closer. I prayed for Sam to return before I had to fight this man off. Drink could overcome Sam’s instruction to leave me alone and I felt very vulnerable. I was so frightened my throat started to swell and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Poor Beth, would she lose two mothers, who would care for her?

  He was alongside me in a moment, I saw him raise an arm, I couldn’t breathe but I could still smell him, I felt my senses distort and I collapsed into a whirling darkness.

  Something cold was dripping on my face and I came round to find Digger sitting at my side and dripping cold brandy over my face.

  ‘You have a drink girl. Jeremiah can’t hurt anyone now.’

  I took a few seconds to think this through before saying, ‘does he hurt people then?’

  ‘Aye, he do lash out when ’ee’s cornered. It were only a matter o’ time ’til he be knifed or shot.’

  ‘What do you do in the gang?’

  ‘I be lookout, look after people who need watching and getting rid of the stuff.’

  ‘You don’t hurt people then?’

  ‘Nah, there’s others to do that. I just look the part and frighten th
em.’ He grinned at me.

  ‘Digger, can you help me escape?’

  ‘What d’you wanna escape for, these is your kin?’

  ‘They don’t behave like kin, I don’t like them. they frighten me. Is my grandfather the ringleader?’

  ‘Nah, it’s her who holds all the keys.’

  ‘Aunt Tilly?’ I said in astonishment.

  ‘Aye, she’s real mean. Don’t let her catch you messing up her gang, she’ll have your guts for garters,’ he smirked. ‘’Cept she don’t wear none.’

  ‘See lassie, if I lets you go you’ll not get through the brooks an’ I’ll end up with a beating, or worse.’ He grinned his wolfish smile and took another swig from the flask.

  ‘But you won’t hurt me?’

  ‘Nah lass, you be safe with old Digger. It’s the family you got to watch out for.’

  ‘Are there many in this gang?’

  ‘Aye, enuf to frighten the justices. If we get caught we bribe our way out and if they finds our stash we reform and ambush them ’n get it back. We be the free traders and everyone wants what we got, ’specially those old judges.’

  ‘Does everyone know that it is Aunt Tilly who runs things?’

  ‘Nah, she’s too clever for they. Shh. Someone be there.’

  I couldn’t hear anything but a few minutes later Sam reappeared with blankets and some food as well as more water.

  ‘How is he?’ he asked.

  ‘Quiet,’ I replied. ‘I don’t think he is any worse.’

  ‘You’d best get some sleep cousin, you’ll need your wits about you tomorrow. Ma will come and see yous lookin’ after ’im, proper, like.’

  ‘And what if he dies?’ I asked.

  He just shrugged and smiled that slow and sinister smile before handing me some bread and a slab of cheese. We all sat the long night through, dozing and waking, shifting and rolling on the hard floor. I kept forcing water into Jeremiah and feeling the heat of his bandage. Sam was sitting propped against the ladder and often I saw his eyes glinting. Like Digger he watched me but Digger was harmless – it was Sam and his mother who frightened me.

  I was awoken with a kick. ‘He’s talking – wake up, you’ve got work to do.’

  The tight bandage was cool to the touch but I poured cold spring water on it to make it easier to remove without tearing the fragile flesh underneath.

  Everything came away easily and I sniffed. I couldn’t detect any putrefaction but that didn’t mean he was safe. Gently I bathed the edges with my mix of herbs and as I finished I became aware of his eyes on me. He smiled weakly before relaxing into a grimace as I replaced the bandage with clean material and wrapping it tightly. I did not know if I was doing this right, how could I know – I had no experience of such wounds. I prayed once again that he would live, if only for my self-preservation.

  Sam had disappeared, taking the ladder up. Digger went with him for a few minutes. I needed to pass water and I didn’t want to creep into a corner and expose myself to them. I found my voice and shouted.

  ‘Sam, I need to come up for a minute. I need some minutes alone, I promise I will not run.’

  The ladder reappeared and I wobbled up it and came into the light of the barn. The sun was shining outside and the air smelled sweet and laden with fragrant flower. I breathed deeply as if it were my last.

  ‘You can go behind those logs but don’t think about running,’ he warned.

  I made myself comfortable but I was distressed at how dirty I had become so quickly.

  I was sent back down and once again went to sit beside Jeremiah. He was sleeping, not exactly peacefully but quieter than he had been last night. His pallor had lessened and he was not so clammy. I had hope.

  Chapter Sixty

  Peony: Paeonia officinalis – Peonies, one of the nine official medieval herbs, were grown in all infirmary and kitchen gardens as well as the pleasure garden. The seeds were used to flavour meat and ‘fifteen taken in wine is a special remedie for those that are troubled with night mare’.

  White Dead-Nettle: Lamium album – Possessing no sting and botanically unrelated to the stinging nettle, the dead-nettle was used to reduce inflammation. The candied flowers made a ‘good colour in the face and vital spirits more fresh and lively’.

  The Physic Garden Booklet, Michelham Priory

  I had some seeds of peony in my bag and asked Sam for some wine. He broke a bottle head from some stacked in the cellar and I was able to get Jeremiah to swallow them washed down with what was probably the most expensive of wines. I hoped they would calm his fears and would achieve some deep sleep that would be restorative.

  Amongst my dried herbs, all individually wrapped in a square of paper, I sought some white dead-nettle. I had no flowers but the rest would do well to reduce the inflammation round the wound. I would use this herb when next I changed the bandage if indeed he was still alive.

  It was late in the morning when I heard harsh voices above me. My Aunt Tilly appeared and came down the ladder. She was dressed as a man and her stony features gave no indication of feminine care.

  ‘Well Esther, Sam says you have done well and Jeremiah is on the mend.’

  ‘There is no certainty of that,’ I said. ‘He is quieter but could still succumb to infection inside the body. I have no way of dealing with that – you must just hope and perhaps pray.’

  She snorted. ‘We don’t place no value on praying girl, we must look to ourselves for all that we do and achieve.’

  She sat down beside her son and looking down on him I thought I saw a flicker of love but it was gone when next she fixed me with her cold gaze.

  Sam be going to Lewes to fetch little Beth. When Jeremiah is better you can see her back at Southease. You will both settle with us now and be wed to Sam. As his wife you will be part of the family as your mother was before she ran away. See this as retribution for what she did in leaving me to fend for myself with the old man. Her mouth was fixed in a tight line as she studied my reaction to this wicked plan.

  My mind barely took this monstrous idea in before I snapped, ‘No! I won’t wed Sam and Mrs Jenkins will not give Beth to him.’

  She laughed coarsely fixing me with a hard stare. ‘She will, my girl, and we will take a letter written and signed by you to that purpose. You be with us now and will earn your keep with your skills in the kitchen and herbs. You’ll be our own medicine woman, there will be much for you to do.’

  ‘Sam, bring some brandy we will drink to your new woman, soon to be your wife.’

  Chapter Sixty-One

  I was to remain in that cellar for five days, I think. Jeremiah took a turn for the worse and I had to try a different healing herb. I did not have an exhaustive supply in my bag but I did have some dried Herb Robert; Such a common little plant but with powerful properties in stemming blood flow and relieving inflammation. What I really wanted was some fresh Common Centaury but none was to be found so I made use of what I had and hoped for the best.

  They forced me to write a letter to Mrs Jenkins asking that she give Beth to Sam and saying we would return to Lewes once my cousin was healed. Aunt Tilly watched over me as I wrote, she clearly knew her letters but I am not sure either of her sons did. I knew that I would not be allowed to leave as I told Mrs Jenkins but I hoped that somehow I would escape before the wedding service was conducted. I had tried to resist their demands but my aunt, after slapping me about the face, threatened me with abasement by members of the gang. I didn’t doubt for one minute that she would see that through. I looked at Digger with appeal in my eyes but he just shrugged and passed me the quill.

  I spent many hours of anguish suffering thoughts of my fate at the hands of these people. I wept and shivered with fear before I calmed myself and thought that I had been in dire straights before now and come through. I had to keep my wits about me and somehow, somewhere I would find a way of escaping. A little voice in my head kept saying that I had only achieved escape before because of others and that there were no ot
hers this time round.

  Jeremiah and I were together in that dark dismal cavern permanently guarded by the amiable Digger who despite his friendship was no saviour for me. He had pitched his cap in with the gang many years before and there was no other safe future for him. I could look for no help in that quarter. I was glad, however, of his crooked smile and despite his frightening wolfish looks I knew I was safe in his company. It was a small comfort.

  Sam had told me with a note of triumph in his voice that he had personally lifted Beth from the arms of Mrs Jenkins and she was now settled in the squalid conditions of the Southease cottage. Mrs Jenkins had taken my note on face value never suspecting that she was assisting in Beth’s kidnap.

  That was my lowest point. I wept and keened for my poor child as if she were dead.

  Eventually, I was satisfied that Jeremiah would survive and recover fully despite some dreadful scarring and a hole the size of a guinea in his thigh. This realisation was a bittersweet moment for me. I had succeeded against the odds in saving his life but in so doing I was edging nearer to my miserable fate.

  We were preparing to leave the cellar one still morning. I was carefully walking out of the barn with Jeremiah at my side on a makeshift stretcher when a body of men arrived singly and in pairs: they materialised soundlessly all about us. These were the men who carried the spoils inland and I heard the sounds of tethered donkeys and horses just beyond the clearing waiting patiently for their heavy loads. Loading would take place in the bright light of day because the smugglers were so confident of their hidden barn; travel across Sussex and Kent would be at nightfall. As I waited for a cart to take me and Jeremiah to Southease and Beth I noticed a boy staring at me. I looked back at him and saw that it was one of the Coad boys, the youngest. It all fitted; the mysterious wagons that purported to carry chalk and other goods that arrived at Coad Farm in the early hours of the morning and were hurried into the depths of the barns before we of the household could get nosy.