Pistoleer: Roundway Down

by Smith, Skye

  "In the cabin," was Teesa's first order to her new crew. "Carry the worst injured and the youngest into the cabin.” She turned to her own clanswomen, but they needed no orders. They all knew what to do. Treat them for shock, make them comfortable, keep them warm, and soothe their tears. It would be easier to treat their abused bodies once their minds were calm, once they realized that they were safe from men. Fucking men.

  She looked out over the heads of the last of these poor women, all painfully waddling to cover the last few yards to the ship, and saw that the four poor men who had been hung from the walls were still lying in the grass beneath the abbey wall where Daniel had cut them down. They may even have died since then. That thought was interrupted by a call from Lieutenant Perry who was approaching the ship.

  "As soon as both of these ships are out of sight around the bend," Perry called to her, "I will send out our male prisoners."

  A teen girl was being handed up onto the ship by a man whose bulk of shoulder showed that he had spent his life on the oars. At the sound of Perry's voice the girl began to whimper, and then cry, and then scream out, "No, no, don't let him have me again!" and almost wriggled out of the arms carrying her, and almost hit her head as she was ducked into the cabin.

  "What about the four men you crucified?" Teesa asked of Perry. "They will need my care. They should be on this ship with me."

  "No, not them," Perry replied. "They will be the last loaded, just to make sure that the rest of the prisoners make no trouble. What about your promise that you would treat the wounds of my men?"

  Teesa walked towards him. She knew that Daniel was close behind her, so she had no fear. "That was part of the original offer, not the final."

  "That is not how I understood it," Perry replied. "In truth, my expectations were that you would be staying with us overnight to see to our wounds." He was close enough to the comely little vixen to put an arm around her, and so that is what he did. In a practiced move he flipped his cloak open and pulled her under it and under one of his arms. "Ow," he coughed as something pointed and solid hit him between the ribs.

  "That is my pocket pistol in your ribs, darling," Teesa told him, "and so long as you behave yourself, I won't pull the trigger. Now call to your men in the abbey to release the men."

  "But the second ship has not left yet. Ow. Alright, but if this ship does not push away soon, my sergeant will know that something is wrong.” Perry called to the gate to cut free the legs of the prisoners so that they could walk to the last ship.

  Daniel threw his stepdaughter a wide smile and then signaled to Mick that it was his turn to load. Almost immediately the Four was pushed hard up against the river bank and a gang plank dropped into place.

  Teesa stayed under Perry's arm but each time he moved she again jabbed the barrel into his ribs. When the prisoners were leaving the abbey gate she whispered to him, "Darling, please tell the prisoners to carry the Reverend Ram and the other three with them." When he said nothing, she added. "Would you rather I pull the trigger. Those prisoners are beyond the gate now, so I have little to lose, and you have much."

  "Some of my men were badly injured by the stampede of horses your men caused. They need your tending," he told her smoothly. "You cannot refuse. To be a healer you must have taken an oath."

  "My oath was to do no harm. I am not required to help bastards like you. Now tell them."

  "Ow, then by your oath you cannot pull that trigger." He tried to move away from her.

  "I will ask forgiveness for my lapse, and it will be given. So you think I will not kill you. Perhaps not, but I will certainly cripple you for life." She jabbed him harder.

  "Ow, ow," and then he relented and called to the prisoners to carry the injured men with them.

  The male prisoners seemed not badly injured, for though their hands were still tied in front of them, they were still able to carry the four crucified men to the ship. Meanwhile a call came from Teesa's new crew and so she slipped out from under Perry's arm and leaped across the mud and into waiting arms to gain the deck of the ship.

  As soon as her pistol was no longer jabbing his ribs, Perry twirled away and after doing a full rotation he had he sword drawn to face her, but she was no longer there. Instead he was staring down the barrel of a very fat pistol. It was a most unusual gun with two barrels. "She broke her word," he hissed at the veteran.

  "Aye, t'is a common thing with women when men's morals are smaller than their pricks," Daniel replied. "Now sheath your sword like a good boy lest your own men do something stupid that will get you killed.” The last of the prisoners were clambering aboard Mick's ship, so Daniel backed towards his punt and then turned and step aboard with a practiced stride that also pushed it away from the bank. He looked back towards Perry and said, "If I were you I would leave the Fens, and leave soon. Around here it's the death penalty for raping virgins, whether the courts order it or not."

  Mick's ship was still to push off when a whistle sounded from the direction of the bridge. As Daniel poled passed the ship on his way to pick up the lads from the oak, he warned Mick that the royalist cavalry was only minutes away. In truth, they must have been closer than that, because by the time he had ferried the two lads back to the ship, they could already hear the thunder of approaching hoofs.

  As Daniel climbed aboard the ship with the lads, Mick called to him from the wheel, "I'll have to back out of the narrows until I can turn." Daniel nodded in way of salute and made his way forward to the cannon. Backing a heavily loaded ship was always tricky because ships are not designed for backing. While Mick was using all of his strength to hold the rudder amidships against the force of the water, Daniel busied himself with re-aiming the cannon.

  The good news was that the Campdeners had heard the whistle, and so also heard the thunder of hooves, and they themselves were now fully busy barricading the broken gates against a possible cavalry attack. Obviously they had still not realized that the Cromwell riding towards them was not Colonel Cromwell of the Eastern Association. That realization came to them as the first of the cavalryers crested the arch of the bridge.

  The boom of Daniel's cannon and the spray of rock chips as the lead ball hit the bridge sent the cavalryer's horses madly off in all directions. The column of troopers who had been following them were now seeking cover. By the time Henry Cromwell had restored order amongst his column, Mick's ship had completed her turn, and was sweeping downstream under oar.

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  The Pistoleer - Roundway Down by Skye Smith Copyright 2014-15

  Chapter 20 - With Oliver in Cambridge in April 1643

  The overstuffed chair that Daniel had pulled up closer to the great fireplace swallowed him in plush comfort and he nodded off. The ride through the night to reach Cambridge had exhausted him. First on a borrowed horse through the mists along the barely visible marsh paths that led from Spalding to Wisbech. Wisbech, the castle village where the Tudors imprisoned their papist enemies. Empty, haunted Wisbech, abandoned to its ghosts and its mists, save for an eeler working the river.

  After he had convinced the eeler to punt him from Wisbech to his clan's village of Wellenhay, he sent back the borrowed horse to Spalding with the lad who had been guiding him. He did stretch out and catch some sleep in the punt, but at the cost of smelling like yesterdays catch. His stay in Wellenhay was but two hours while he told the latest news of the Campdener raids, ate, bathed, changed into something less fishy, and packed his things for a long journey south. Then he rode hard to Cambridge on one of the clan's nags, for the news of Henry Cromwell's march towards Boston must reach the senior officers of the Eastern Association Militia as soon as possible.

  This lavish room was in a college close to Cambridge Castle ... in truth the tower was all that was left of the castle, but it was still served as an armoury and a lockup. The thousands of militia men that Oliver Cromwell had called to him in preparation for John Hampden's great push on Oxford were now comfortably billeted in
the many student quarters of the many colleges. Over the past year most of the college chancellors had openly sided with the royalists, but had soon regretted that decision because Cambridge had become such an anti-royalist city. Few of the colleges still housed students, for most college treasuries had been looted by the chancellors to send to the king, or by the Reformers to save the treasuries from being sent to the king.

  "Isn't that so, Daniel?" Oliver asked him again.

  "Um, huh?" Daniel yawned.

  "The Reverend Ram was stretched out and hung by ropes over the main gate as a shield against cannon balls. Isn't that so?"

  "Oh, aye, sir. He was suffering the pains of Christ, crucified by ropes on each wrist. He and three others. But they are all now safe in Spalding. We got the entire commune away on our ships. By now all roads from Crowland and Market Deeping towards Spalding and Boston will be blocked and guarded not only by the cannons of my ships and by their Freiston crews, but also by the Spalding clubmen, and the Boston militia."

  Oliver sighed at Daniel's open honesty. He was trying to make the case to the officers around him that their various militia groups should ride out in force against the Campdeners and sweep them out of South Lincolnshire. Daniel's summation had made the situation seem well in hand, which weakened his own case. "But since then my cousin Henry has joined the Campdeners. Is that not so?"

  "Oh, aye. If it were not for Henry, we'd have never gotten the commune folk away from the Campdeners. You see, they thought Henry was you coming to drive them out of Crowland," Daniel replied between yawns. He was careful to call Reverend Ram's group a commune rather than Anabaptists. These officers all had the look of staunch Presbyterians, perhaps some were even Congregationalist Presbyterians who tended to be religious bigots. All of them would sneer at Baptists and Anabaptists who preached dangerous religious ideals. Ideals such as not being Christened as a baby, but only when you were of age and you chose to do so. Ideals such as actually living according to Christ's teachings of peace and forgiveness.

  "So there you have it," Oliver told the room full of colonels and majors. "The Campdeners are not just raiders looking for loot and doing mischief. They are seeking footholds to be used by the king's regular forces, such as my cousin Henry."

  "Perhaps they have heard that you are about to empty Cambridgeshire of militia and march them off to take the war to the king in Oxford," Daniel pointed out. "That would make the Fens easy pickings for them." He looked around for something to drink, but then decided he needed to pee first, but that meant getting out of this warm comfortable chair. Everyone was staring at him, but no one was speaking.

  "Er, I suppose there is no harm in the captain knowing," Oliver told the others. "Daniel, the great push on Oxford has been overruled by our Lord General Essex. He wishes to take Reading first, before we even think about marching on Oxford."

  "Typical," Daniel said, not surprised by any stupidity from Assex, "and what does John Hampden think about that?"

  "He is livid. It means that the Duke of Newcastle will have even more time to lead the queen's invasion force of foreign mercenaries to Oxford. Once they join with the king, then the opportunity of quickly crushing the king will be gone. Worse, it puts General Waller and our Western army in peril. If our main army is busy laying siege to Reading, then the king will be free to send his flying army to the Welsh border to attack Waller."

  Daniel cleared his mind with a yawn. "Perhaps bad for Waller, but it all sounds like good news for the folks of the Fens," Daniel said softly. "You drew thousands of militia to Cambridge to prepare for the big push on Oxford, so now they can be used to protect the folk living along the borders of the Fens." Again there was a silence after his words, and no one would meet his eyes.

  "We have no orders for that," said a Colonel with a pleasant Suffolk burr to his voice.

  "We had no orders to gather here in Cambridge," Oliver blurted out. "Only the suggestion from John Hampden that we would be wise to do so."

  "Cambridgeshire is party to the Eastern Association whereas Lincolnshire is not," the colonel replied. "We may move our troops anywhere in the Eastern Shires as we see fit, but we need orders from Parliament to move them beyond those shires. May I remind you that ours is a defensive association, not an expeditionary force."

  Daniel was beginning to understand why Oliver had been doing so much fast talking. Oliver obviously wanted to use the massed troops to secure the Fens, all of the Fens. The other officers wanted to take their regiments back home to Suffolk, Norfolk, or wherever. "May I speak?"

  The colonel who had been arguing with Oliver gave him the nod.

  "For thousands of years the villages along the east coast have organized themselves into communes during times when men were scarce. In my village, for instance, the men are away on the ships for much of the year. Because of that, the women group together in communes so they can better cope with the work of farming and running the village without the men. At Crowland there were few local men. The commune was mostly women and children whose men had been called into service. Some were widows, and others likely didn't know they were widows.

  From your news I assume that the queen will indeed be able to reinforce the king, which means that this war will not end quickly. Meanwhile the coming winter will likely be as long and as cold as the last. If the women cannot form communes to plant and harvest, then they are going to starve this winter. The same is true for the army. Making sure that as many acres are planted this spring as possible may be the most important thing that your association does this year. Could it be that the Campdeners are purposefully trying to stop the planting?" Daniel matched stares with a few of the officers. "And stop it they will if you lot don't protect the communes."

  "Why should we protect them when they did nothing to protect themselves," a major interrupted. "I can say this because I know the Reverend Ram to be an Anabaptist and a pacifist. His way is to turn the other cheek. Besides that, Ram had them planting the old abbey lands that do not even belong to them. Old King Henry gave those lands to Lord, um, what's his face?"

  "William Seymour," another officer answered, "who is now the Marquess of Hartford and a confident of the king because he has much sway over his brother-in-law, our Lord General Essex."

  "And very much a royalist landlord," Daniel pointed out. He looked towards Oliver for support. Oliver was standing very still with his eyes closed. The others in the room noticed this too, and the room went very still.

  When Oliver finally spoke he said, "I do not hold with all of the Reverend Ram's teachings, but I know him to be a good, God fearing man. Crucifying him was an act of savagery worthy of the Turks. May I point out that we have been confiscating the portable wealth from the estates of royalist lords and bishops to pay for our weapons. Yes the reverend is planting fields that are not his to plant, but they are royalist fields, and is that really any different from what we have been doing.

  Besides which, they are fields that otherwise would have been left fallow. The gospels tell us that God created all plants and creatures and Ram teaches that caring for them is God's work. I may agree with Ram's teachings, but I will not criticize any action that provides succor for women and children who would otherwise starve. Certainly there is no evil intent in his tilling of the soil." Oliver turned to Daniel and asked, "How common are these communes becoming?"

  "More of them every week. I know because my village is helping some get started over Boston way. The men were pressed into the king's service, and once they were gone the women were ravaged and left to fend for themselves. Those villages are now organized as communes and the work and the food is shared for the good of all. Those women will thrive, that is, unless they are ravaged again."

  "More Anabaptists," the major cursed under his breath.

  "Perhaps," Oliver replied, "but what does that really matter in the great scheme of things, so long as they stand with us against the papist episcopy that is corrupting our king." He began to walk through the other officers,
but then turned and stared at Daniel. "You said that these communes were formed due to a lack of men, and that the men were pressed into the king's service against their will. What then of the groups of clubmen that are springing up? Why aren't the clubmen protecting the communes?"

  "The clubmen are rising in the market towns to protect that town's wealth from confiscation, and their burghers from being held for ransom," Daniel replied, "whereas the communes are out living on the land they are working. That usually puts them far away from the nearest clubmen, in thought and in deed."

  "So we all owe you and your clan our thanks for saving the folk of Crowland," Oliver told him.

  "There in lies the problem," Daniel said as he pushed himself up out of the overstuffed chair. He had to have a pee else he would burst. "For though we eventually rescued them, we were not in time to save them. The women were ravished for a day and a night before we forced their release. If you think the Campdeners were savages for crucifying an old man, you should have seen what they did to the young women. If Henry had not come along and forced us to leave, then Fens justice would surely have taken a hand."

  Some of the officers were nodding knowingly. A major with a Suffolk accent asked, "What do you mean by Fens justice?"

  "He means that the last breath of every Campdener would have been a lung full of Fen's mud," the officer beside him told him, "by way of a boot pressing his face into it."

  "Which would have started a widening cycle of vengeance," Oliver pointed out.

  "Their bodies would never have been found," Daniel replied softly, menacingly, knowingly. Over the centuries the Fen's mud had 'disappeared' predator men beyond counting.

  "But the story would have gotten out, and the Campdeners would have come again to Crowland to avenge them." Oliver turned to the other officers and raised his voice, "And there you have it gentlemen. May I remind you of your primary standing order as officers of the Eastern Association. You are to keep the peace so that the fields of the eastern shires can feed London. The Campdeners are breaching that peace and stopping the fields from being planted. We have no orders to make war on the Campdeners, but I feel that our orders clearly require us to protect the farming communes."