by Tony Roberts
“I know why ye are happy to let me marry Sean. I know ye’re afraid that by marrying me ye’ll bring on my head those devils that tried to burn down the farm. I heard that man say there’ll be others. They were after ye, weren’t they?”
Case said nothing. He wondered what the hell to say to her without saying too much.
“What was it they said about ye?” Ann bowed her head, thinking for a moment. “Ah yes. Satan, that’s what they said. Pah! They have ye mistaken for another. Ye’re no angel, but ye’re no devil either. These people been after ye for some time, have they not?”
Ann was no fool. Case nodded. “I thought I’d left them behind by coming here but they’ve found me again, damn them.”
“And they care not who they hurt by trying to kill ye? Why not tell the people who run things here? Surely they’d lock them up!”
“Not that easy, Miss Ann. They are anonymous and often people in high places. I don’t want to tell you why they are after me but they’re not any government. I shall have to leave you all once Patrick is old enough to look after the farm, just so they don’t come here again. You understand? I couldn’t take any of you as lovers as that would endanger you.”
“I understand that, Case Lonnergan. Ye’re a good one, ye know? Well, I misjudged ye and I’m sorry; will ye do me a huge honor and give me away at my wedding?”
Case stared in surprise at her. “Wow. Well yes! But I thought Patrick would do that.”
Ann smiled. “He’s not interested in such things. He said I was silly getting married, so he did. Well, I want ye to give me away, not him.”
“And I shall, Miss Ann, gladly.”
Ann smiled, then kissed him lightly on the lips and was gone. Case remained where he was for a moment. “Damn,” he said softly, then grinned sardonically and went to see if old man O’Driscoll needed a top-up to his drink.
* * *
The winter of ’44 saw more preparation for the marriage that was scheduled for the spring. Case’s mind was on other things however. He worried about the twin problems of Whitby and the Schwarz family. Whitby was the more worrisome; the Schwarz brothers were over in their farm and visible. They were bullies in general and none of their Irish neighbors – the O’Driscolls, Burkes or Bradys – liked them. It was fortunate that the land on the McGuire farm didn’t border any Schwarz territory or there might have been trouble.
Whitby was in Lynchburg with his henchmen. They were invisible, having gone to ground in the town of over 6,000, and more people were arriving every week, wanting to set up a place of their own or to work the land.
In the middle of it all James K. Polk was elected President and immediately set about enlarging the United States’ western territory. The outgoing President, John Tyler, signed a joint resolution by Congress to make Texas part of the States. Mexico severed diplomatic relations. Case read the news in the local newspaper in Lynchburg, and felt an inevitability about a coming war. Others were excited about it, the general gossip in town was about Polk’s election and the twin problems concerning Britain and Mexico, and would they be fighting a war on two fronts or not?
Sean Brady declared he would move to the McGuire farmstead after his marriage to Ann, seeing that the McGuire farm needed another pair of hands and that the Brady farm had more than enough people there already. That eased Case’s concerns about leaving. He knew that by the end of the year he’d probably have no more need to remain. But leaving in mid-winter would be foolish; best to wait till the spring and better weather.
Before that, however, he’d have to sort out Whitby and the Schwarz brothers.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Eighteen forty-five slowly entered spring. The preparations for Ann’s wedding to Sean Brady increased as the date drew close. Michael O’Driscoll recovered from his injuries but remained mostly at his farm and worked on the land there. He dropped the charges of assault that had been raised by his father. The sheriff had said that witnesses were non-existent which was incredible, seeing that it had taken place in full daylight in a bustling town. Michael, weary of the whole thing, decided to drop the thing. His father wasn’t happy and made a show of arming himself, declaring that if those ‘bastard Schwarz brothers came onto his land they’d get a gutful of lead’.
Bridget often sneaked over to their farm to see him and if Mary hadn’t been fully involved with getting everything ready for Ann’s wedding would have done something to stop her. Case doubted that would have made any difference as the redhead was a forceful young woman and whatever she set her heart on she invariably got.
Lynchburg was growing. It was an important trade center and people came to it from miles around, hoping to make their fortune trading for the goods that came up the canal from Richmond. Further west, over the mountains, the western part of Virginia seemed a different world; Case heard that the people there were mainly pro-abolitionist which was causing problems within Virginia itself. It seemed the state was a mini-version of what was going on in the country as a whole. A split was coming over the question of slavery; it was a matter of when, not if.
Whitby still was keeping his head down which was a concern for Case; he was not good at waiting for an enemy to come to him, it meant the opposition had the initiative. Case preferred to take action. Still, one good thing with all this inaction was that it brought him time; time during which Patrick grew taller and stronger, and the wedding came closer.
But things changed just as spring came to the farmlands. Case was in town one Sunday, as he usually was, waiting for the McGuires to come out of church. He’d never understood the need for people to congregate into a church to pray and get guidance from their faith. Didn’t the bible say God was everywhere? Then, if so, surely people could pray anywhere at anytime? He remained baffled by it all.
His Sundays usually took the form of walking round Lynchburg town center getting to know all the places off the beaten track and trying to spot Whitby or one of his unlovely horde. On this particular Sunday however it was one of his horde who found him. Case was walking back towards Napoleon where he’d tethered him outside the newspaper stall. The news was still full of the growing crisis with Mexico and talk was of sending a diplomat down to Mexico City to try to sort things out. Case couldn’t see how that would make any difference; it was a case of two immovable forces heading for each other at high speed. Neither was going to move out of the way.
A strong arm grasped him suddenly from an alleyway, stopping him abruptly. Case turned to see a grinning Hartley, chewing tobacco. “Mornin’, Lonnergan,” he said, and spat a yellow stream onto the ground. “Nice surprise seein’ you here.”
“What do you want, Hartley?” Case snapped. “And where’s that bastard Whitby?”
Hartley grinned, revealing stained teeth. “Well now, that’s not very hospitable towards an old friend, is it?” Two men, whom Case had never seen before, were standing right behind Hartley, watching the scene, arms folded. They looked like hired muscle. Both were armed, but their pistols were in their holsters. Hartley stood a few feet from Case, and continued. “Well, he did send his compliments but he’s entertaining three German guests, see. He did tell me to tell you that he and the Schwarz boys have declared they have a common goal and have joined forces. Seems they all don’t like you being round here. They also said they don’t want the wedding to go ahead as the boss has plans for that darlin’ Ann girl. She’s got potential, she has.”
Case stepped forward and the two hired men put their hands on their pistol butts. “Look Hartley, you keep away from that family or I’ll kill you, you got it?”
Hartley laughed. “Well, I’ve delivered my message. The boss says he’s wanting revenge for losing his hand and he ain’t a man to cross. He reckons too that you cheated death back in Philadelphia and you owe him for that too. And he’s thinkin’ of stopping the wedding. The Schwarz boys will call on the Brady farm and do to Sean what they did to the O’Driscoll pup, but this time they won’t be so gentle. Seems they want a bit o
f her too. So popular she is.”
Case stepped forward and two guns came clear of their holsters and cocked, pointing at his chest. “If you or any of your friends interfere with the wedding or any of the community here I’ll personally tear your arms off and stuff them up your ass. Got it?”
“Tut tut, such disrespect.” Hartley shook his head mock sorrowfully. “Anyone would think you’re a tough guy. Pity the family will see you’re nothing but a weak yellow sonofabitch. You ain’t gonna see the wedding, let alone attend it. You come with us.” He pulled out his own pistol and jammed it painfully into Case’s gut.
Case gasped and glared at Hartley, murder in his eyes. “The sheriff will be interested in all this.” He wondered why Hartley was being so informative. Surely he knew the law would stop this.
“Heh, well now there’s a thing,” Hartley looked Case in the eye. “The Schwarz brothers come from a rich family that has paid for the sheriff’s election campaign. Think he’ll bite the hand that feeds him?” Laughing, Hartley pointed Case along the alleyway, pushing him at gunpoint followed by the smiling hired thugs.
Case went along with the three men till they turned a corner. The alley narrowed and followed a parallel course to the street to another intersection and Hartley pointed down a narrow passage. Case looked down it. It served as a delivery access to the yards behind the houses or shops and was not well kept. There was a pile of rubbish left here by the occupants of the premises to the right and Hartley pushed Case up against the wall next to the refuse. “Well, compliments of the boss, but this is how far you go. We don’t want any public showin’ of your death.”
Case knew he was trapped and had no way out. The two hired guns were covering left and right and Hartley the center. With his back against the wall Case had nowhere to go. “Go to hell, you bastard.”
“Not before you do, you pain in the ass. You’ve made things tough ever since you interfered with our little business in Philadelphia, so now you get what’s due to you.” Hartley pulled out a wicked looking hunting knife, which had two blades and a curious looking curve along one side. “The boss will be pleased you’re out of the way; we can finish this business once and for all.” He sank the Bowie Knife deep into Case’s chest, slicing deep into the heart.
Case felt an agonizing pain exploding through his body and he arched over forwards. The day faded from his vision and he was only dimly aware he was falling forward onto the trash, eyes still open. He lay there not moving, watched dispassionately by the three men. Hartley cleaned the knife and kicked the body. “Good,” he grunted, “that’s him out of the way. When we deal with the McGuires, you can all have your turn at the girls, that’s the boss’s deal. He gets first go, me next then you two.” He kicked some loose lying board over part of Case’s form, partly concealing him.
“Sounds good,” one replied, his voice low and gravelly. They walked off, leaving the body and the trash behind. The only sounds that came now were the distant noises from the main street on the other side of the buildings and the occasional foray of someone in a neighboring building who was throwing some unwanted item out into the refuse piles in the gardens.
Case was left unnoticed. A rat, foraging for food, came across the body, sniffing the air cautiously. It was tempted to take a bite at the flesh, but there was something that it didn’t like; the scent, maybe the fact the ‘corpse’ wasn’t cold. It scuttled off, preferring smells familiar and safe, such as the rotting discards from the kitchens that faintly tainted the air.
Case wasn’t dead, although the blow he’d received would have killed anyone else. The heart, cut wickedly, was repairing itself, the blood flowing from the ruptured chambers to those not affected, continuing the flow of blood to the body. Some blood was diverted to the wound, clotting it and reforming the walls of the aorta at a phenomenal rate, and muscle fiber re-knitted swiftly, closing the wound and bonding as good as before in hours.
Case felt nothing, lying there unconscious, hidden from casual sight by the board lying across his upper torso and head. It began raining and nobody ventured down the smelly alleyway, and eventually it turned dark. His left arm twitched once, then again. His fist clenched and life began to seep into a body left for dead. Once more, the Curse worked its wonders upon his much abused body, and the Eternal Mercenary would once again know he was doomed to suffer immortality, forever fighting.
Pain brought him awake, a deep, searing pain, knifing through his chest, causing him to gasp each time his lungs drew in breath. He rolled onto his back, dislodging the refuse and shedding it like some prehistoric reptile getting rid of is skin. He held his chest, eyes screwed tightly shut, bringing his knees up to his chest. His mind was a whirl of disjointed thoughts; he knew who he was but not where he was or why yet he was suffering such pain. In time he would recall.
A cat sat on a nearby wall, staring at the unusual sight; it was used to seeing shapes running down the alley, whether they be rats, mice, other cats or the human vermin that sometimes infested the area. It had never before come across such a being and sat unmoving, eyes wide and fixed on the slowly moving object.
“Aaargh, fuck!” Case sat up and clutched at his burning chest, head bowed low. “What the fuck’s causing this pain?”
His mind slowly went over what he remembered, and the leering ugly face of Hartley leaped into his memory. Ah, yes! He remembered now. That swine had knifed him clean through the heart. Groaning, he hauled himself upright and swayed as his body screamed in protest. His shirt was a sodden mess, soaked in blood. It would have to go; such things would be impossible to explain away to anyone.
The cat remained where it was, perched on the edge of the wall, looking down on the man. Case caught sight of it, a few feet above his level and on the other side of the alley. “Well, kitty,” he said harshly, “here we go again. You go back to hunting rats. I’ll go hunting my kind of vermin.”
The cat licked its lips and remained where it was. Case grinned and moved stiffly off towards the end of the alley, turning the corner and lurching from side to side, willing his shaking legs to carry him to the lit streets of Lynchburg. He wondered what had happened to the McGuires and Napoleon. His horse was gone from the place he’d left it, and nobody was in sight on the silent streets. At least that was something good; he’d not have to explain himself to anyone.
He thought about his next move. Going back to the McGuires would be a bad move as it would alert those who wished him ill that he was still alive. God knows what they’d try next. But he had to do something; the wedding was scheduled for the next weekend and Sean Brady was in deep trouble; the Schwarz brothers would do their stuff and Whitby would then be free to move on Ann and use her until he tired of abusing her. The thought made his blood boil and he vowed to wipe the evil sonofabitch off the face of the earth.
Michael O’Driscoll was his best hope; Michael had taken up to riding the wagon into town again over the past few weeks but he made sure he was armed. Case was in need of a weapon, and his pistol had been in the saddlebag on Napoleon. He hoped the horse had been taken by one of the McGuires. Case stumbled through town to the outskirts where the road to the farms began to rise up and meander through the fields. He sat down by a tree and sank into an uneasy sleep.
Dawn came with the singing of the birds and Case woke slowly. His chest still hurt like hell which tired him out, but the pain was not so bad. He’d need a few more days rest to get to something approaching normal. Or what was normal for him, at least.
A few riders passed by and Case remained hidden. His shirt looked terrible in daylight, stained a dirty deep red. It’d need a damned good soak in running water to help get that stuff off, and maybe a repair to the rip where the knife had gone in. Best nobody saw him. Then, suddenly, the O’Driscoll wagon came into sight, rumbling down the road, the same horse pulling the small simple four-wheeled wagon behind it. Case stood and stepped out onto the road, waving his arms.
Michael gaped in shock before pulling on the reins and c
ame to a halt alongside the tired and aching Case. “Mother of God!” Michael gasped, staring at the immense mess on Case’s shirt, “Case, where the devil have ye been? We’ve been worried about ye missing! And ye shirt!”
Case climbed wearily up and sat alongside the younger man. “Michael, take me to a warm safe place. I need to sleep. Not the McGuire place, somewhere quiet and secluded. Can you do?”
“Well, yes, sure I can. But…”
“I’ll explain on the way. But I think I’d best not have this on,” he pulled off his shirt and flung it into the wagon. He wrapped a blanket that had been lying in the back around him as a substitute. Michael saw the criss-cross myriad scars over his body and swallowed, his eyes threatening to launch out of his sockets at any moment. He turned the wagon round and began the journey back to the farms and Case retold what had happened to him, changing only the severity of the wound he’d received; he said instead it had been a superficial slash and that accounted for the blood.
Michael looked at him once only, when Case told him about the Schwarz plan to beat up Sean Brady. “Those black hearted bastards need to be taught a lesson, so they do.”
“Aye, and they will. So this is what I suggest….” And Case outlined his plan. He needed to tell Michael because he knew he wasn’t up to the job, his wound was still bad enough to make him feel tired and weak, and he needed to convalesce away from any distraction for a day or two. Another thought struck him. “What about my horse and pistol?”
“Oh, Miss Ann rode Napoleon back to the farm, so she did. She’s dead worried about ye. Frightened ye’re dead. It’s casting a shadow over the wedding plans it is.”
“I’ll be fighting fit in a day or two. We just need to take care of those brothers and make sure Sean is able to attend his wedding; not us attend his funeral.”