by Lorenzo, EH
Leaving Bourne, he made a good pace for the first several miles, then the sky began to darken and a light rain began falling. Before long the rain had picked up and Bromley was getting cold and wet. He found himself wishing that it was August and not November and he really wanted to find a warm and dry place to rest. He didn't dare do so for fear that he would miss Elizabeth and her family. After about 8 miles, he passed a public house and he could see people inside enjoying a meal and a warm fire. He didn't allow himself to gaze on the scene or to think about how nice it would be to stop, but instead, he pressed ahead.
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Elizabeth didn't feel right about wearing men's clothing. She had never seen a woman wearing trousers. She had even considered that Joan of Arc had deserved her punishment for doing so. Now as she climbed into the wagon with her hair up under a hat and wearing her father's shirt and trousers, she wondered whether her fate might be the same.
The road was clear for the first several hours as they traveled. Twice they met wagons coming in the opposite direction. In each case her father told her to not make eye contact with any of the other travelers.
It began to rain in the late in the afternoon. Initially, it was a light rain, but it continue to increase. Her father covered himself with some heavy cloth. She was getting wet and cold as was her mother and brothers. Soon the road became very slick and it was difficult to keep the wagon aligned with the ox because the back of the wagon seemed to want to slide off the road. Eventually they came to a gentle hill. The ox leaned into his harness as the wheels sunk deeper into the mud. Elizabeth shouted encouragement to the ox. One of her brothers pushed on the back of the wagon and one brother pulled on a rope around the head of the ox in the hope of guiding the ox to stay on the road. After much struggle, they reached the top of the small hill. Being afraid to attempt a decent on the other side and also knowing that there were other similar hills, coupled with the fact that it was getting dark, with no indication of a let up on the rain, they decided to stop for the night.
They were in a small wooded area now and so there was no stone fence near the side of the road. Elizabeth directed the ox off the roadway and under a large oak tree. The ground away from the road was covered with grass and the wagon was easier to manage. Elizabeth was wishing that the entire road was covered with grass.
The large oak tree provided some shelter from the rain and the family gathered tightly beneath the wagon. There would be no fire tonight, since all of the wood was wet. They silently ate some bread and cheese and did their best to stay warm and dry. It was so very cold though.
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Because of the rain, Bromley was not progressing as quickly as he had hoped. He was slipping in the mud occasionally and had fallen three times. He wanted desperately to stop and find a hollow tree or a ledge of some sort for shelter. His dedication to finding Elizabeth and his fear of being colder still if he stopped, kept him moving one foot in front of the other.
The night was very dark. The thick blanket of clouds blocked out all evidence of the moon. The night was made darker still because he was now traveling beneath a thick canopy of trees. 'Was this the Sherwood Forest?' he wondered. He found himself listening very intently to his surroundings for fear of robbers. Suddenly, a dark figure moved across the road in front of him. He was startled and almost let out a gasp, but managed to hold it in. He stopped and froze motionless in the road and then he realized that it had been a deer. Initially, he was relieved, but then he wondered what had scared the deer, why was it running? He didn't have to wonder for long.
'Drop your bag, or I will slit your throat,' a gruff voice ordered from right behind him.
Bromley felt the pointed edge of a knife in the small of his back. He had never been in such a situation and now that he was, he was very frightened. He dropped the rolled blanket that he was carrying and started to run. He hadn't gone two steps when he ran into another person that stepped in front of him. He hadn't even seen this person standing off to the side. Bromley hit him with such force that it knocked the second robber off his feet and they both rolled through the mud. Bromley leapt to his feet and ran. He could hardly see the road or the trees. He didn't know whether the robbers were chasing him or not, so he kept running and slipping. He stayed on the road for fear of tripping over rocks or running into trees. Finally, he could run no more. He quickly got off the road and hid in a bush beneath a tree and waited. His heart beat furiously within his chest. After some time, he was more calm and decided to stay put for the night.
Morning couldn't come soon enough for Bromley. It had stopped raining in the early morning hours and he would have continued on the road, but now he was afraid to be seen on that road. As soon as it began to be light, he started on his way again staying in the trees and avoiding the road. After a short distance, he decided that his best course would now be to leave the road entirely and travel southwest toward the route between Stamford and Melton Mowbray. He decided that would be the only way that he would be able to catch up with Elizabeth. This seemed the best course because of the time that he had lost time during night and also because he now had no food and would need to start working his way back to Easton-on-the-hill soon regardless of whether he was successful in finding Elizabeth.
He was able to make much better time though the woods due to the lack of mud. He was careful to be observant of his surroundings so that he would not be caught by surprise again. After an hour he was out of the woods and crossing fields. At the edge of each field he had to climb the rock wall or work his way through the hedge, but he was satisfied with his progress. After a couple more hours, he was on a road that he was fairly certain led back to Stamford. Hoping that he was now ahead of Elizabeth and her family, and that he was on the right road, he headed toward Stamford.
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Morning was a welcome relief for Elizabeth and her family. It had stopped raining, but the roads were going to be muddy all day. Elizabeth's father struggled to his feet despite the protestations of his wife and Elizabeth. The movement caused him to start coughing violently. He held himself up against the wagon until he had stopped coughing. Surveying the road ahead, he decided that to get down the gentle slope, they could stay off the road and in the grass, but then they would have to get back on the roadway.
After a brief meal of cheese and bread, Elizabeth and her brothers helped their father into the wagon. Elizabeth's hat had fallen off and her father insisted that she return it to her head and put her hair under it. She did so and they continued on their way.
Descending the hill was much easier without being on the road. At the bottom of the hill were rocks and trees, so they moved back onto the muddy road and continued slowly on their way. They didn't see anyone on the road for a couple hours and then they past one wagon, two men on foot and a horseman in short succession heading in the opposite direction. Each time, Elizabeth looked down and used the hat to cover her face as much as possible.
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Bromley felt more comfortable on this road than on the road that he had been on the previous day. He had seen very few other travels on that road, but he had already past a couple travelers on this road. If he passed a wagon going the opposite direction, he looked closely at those traveling with it to see if he spotted Elizabeth. After a couple of hours, he was starting to get discouraged and expected that he had missed them. Such as it was, he would now be required to continue his journey home for lack of food or blankets.
Bromley was cresting a small hill when he saw a wagon a little way off that had a number of travelers with it. He wasn't sure how many. He could tell from that distance that the wagon was loaded with household belongs. Perhaps this wagon was Elizabeth's family, he hoped. As the wagon neared he studied the travelers. He knew that Elizabeth would be traveling with her father, mother and two brothers. Surely, this would be the right wagon. As the distance between he and the wagon closed further, he could see that there were two lads walking beside it. He could see that another lad was drivi
ng the wagon pulled by an ox. There was also two other individuals inside the wagon. One of the individuals sitting inside the wagon was a female. He heart raced and he quickened his pace. As he passed the wagon however, he could see that the female was an older woman. His heart sank with disappointment and he trudged on through the still muddy road past the wagon.
He was past the wagon when he heard a voice call, 'Bromley?'
He was shocked to hear his name and for a brief moment wasn't certain that he had. He turned about and faced the wagon. The lad driving the wagon was now standing in the wagon and facing Bromley. 'Bromley? Is that you?' the lad called out.
'Elizabeth?' Bromley questioned. He didn't recognize her in men's clothing with her hair inside her hat, but the voice sounded familiar.
'Yes, it is I,' shouted Elizabeth with some excitement. 'Whot are you doing on this road?' she asked.
'I am luking for you,' responded Bromley. 'Why are you dressed like a man?'
'Me father thought that it was safer for me to travel this way,' she explained.
With that she removed the hat and shook her hair loose and it fell down below her shoulders.
'I thought that you were in Bourne luking for Richard,' stated Elizabeth with some hesitation. 'Why are you 'ere?'
'Aye, I have comb from Bourne and I do nay 'ave gud news for you.'
Elizabeth was off the wagon now and walking toward Bromley. 'Did you nay find Richard then?' she asked.
'Nay, I culd nay find 'im,' said Bromley. 'That is why I was luking for you.'
'Whot is the news then, Bromley?' asked Elizabeth. She was visibly shaken now by the expectation that the news Bromley bore was not good news. She knew that he must have gone to great effort to get in front of them since he had left later.
Bromley looked down at the ground. He didn't want to be the bearer of unpleasant news and if he was, he certainly didn't want to see the reaction on Elizabeth's face when he shared it. He had rehearsed many times during the previous day and night what it was that he might say to her. Now he couldn't remember any of the careful words that he had chosen.
'There were no glaziers in Bourne. There had been glaziers there, boot the work was dune and they moved on.'
'And where did they go?' asked Elizabeth, trying to pull the news out of him.
'Sume say that they went to Boston, boot I do nay know.'
'Is that where you think Richard is then?'
'I do nay know, Elizabeth. Boot, there was one glazier who came from south of Bourne soon before the work was completed. By the description given to me, 'e may 'ave been Richard.'
'Yes, go on,' urged Elizabeth.
'This glazier was a yung man and 'e was a journeyman,' said Bromley as he seemed to be stalling to say anymore.
Elizabeth sensed that the worst was yet to be said. Her lip started to quiver and her heart started to race. Then she started crying. Sobbing, she said, 'Where is Richard, Bromley? Tell me where Richard is.'
'I do nay know. All that I know is that I was told that this yung man matching Richard's description fell from one of the windows of the abbey where the work was being dune and deed.' Bromley felt as though he had blurted out the words, but it seemed that was the only way that he was going to be able to get them out.
Elizabeth was sobbing now and fell to her knees in the mud at Bromley's feet. She grabbed his legs and cried out, 'No, this can nay be true. Me Richard can nay be deed.'
Her mother was kneeling next to her now and hugged her close. Neither said a word. Elizabeth laid her head on her mothers breast and cried. Her mother looked up at Bromley and she started to weep.
'I am so soory, Elizabeth,' Bromley offered. He genuinely meant it and his heart ached.
He was uncomfortable with the situation and was not prepared for such emotion. He then did something that he regretted from that moment on. He turned and walked away toward Stamford. He didn't mean any harm, he just was not equipped emotionally to be the support that Elizabeth needed.
After what seemed a hour, Elizabeth lifted her head and wiped her eyes on the shirt that she was wearing. Her face was dirty from traveling and the wetness of the tears left streaks on her face. She slowly stood and looked back down the road. She could still see Bromley slowly trudging along. His shoulders seemed stooped and his head hung. She felt sorry for him. He hadn't wanted the responsibility of carrying such awful news and he must have gone to great effort to find her. Her heart ached for him, for herself and for Richard. She hoped that Bromley would find Margaret well.
As she climbed resolutely into the wagon, her father squeezed her hand. 'Elizabeth,' he said. 'Bromley did nay say that 'e knew for certain. Do nay give up 'ope so easily.'
Elizabeth held the reins in her hand and gazed at her father. 'You are right,' she said, 'I must nay give up 'ope so quickly. I shuld trust in God.'
With her mother in the wagon now, she gave the reins a quick shake and the ox pressed against the harness again. She stared straight ahead with a gaze that didn't focus on anything. Her mind was on Richard. Was it really he who had fallen? How would she know? She should have told Bromley to tell Richard to find her in Trowell if he was alive. But, surely Bromley would do that without her asking.
The ox moved slowly under the strain of the wagon. Elizabeth's brothers fell slightly behind the wagon and spoke to each other in quiet voices. Elizabeth, her father and her mother rode on in silence.
Chapter Eight
November 1437
As Bromley walked the road to Stamford, he rehearsed in his mind over and over the conversation with Elizabeth. If he could change one thing, he would have not walked away, but would have remained and comforted her and her family. He felt a little ashamed that he had left. But he didn't know what else to do at the time. He couldn't change that now and so he walked on. He was very hungry and tired by the time that he reached Oakham and decided that he had to rest for the night. He wanted desperately to reach Stamford by the next morning so that he could run with the bulls. He expected that he could reach Stamford in another 3 hours and he resolved to rest and then leave very early in the morning to be there on time.
Outside Oakham he stopped at a farm cottage and asked for a bit of food, but was turned away. He passed a church and decided that the priest there might be as kind to him as the priest in Bourne had been. He knocked at the door and was greeted somewhat coolly. The priest didn't invite him in, but gave him some bread, a little cheese and a cup of milk. Bromley was so grateful. He drank the milk on the step and returned the cup along with his thanks. He expected that he must be quite a sight with all the mud that was on his clothing. It was nearly dark by that time and he figured that he wouldn't have been as kind to a dirty stranger as the priest had been.
Bromley sat beneath a large oak tree outside of towne and enjoyed his meal. He couldn't remember when he had tasted such wonderful bread and cheese. That may have been influenced by his hunger and fatigue. With the pain in his stomach satisfied, he laid down next to the tree for some rest. It was a cold night and he didn't expect to sleep, but he did.
Awakening with a shiver a few hours later, he jumped up and hurried along the road toward Stamford. He had renewed strength now and except for the cold, he felt good. He was no longer wet from the rain, but was cold and wished that he still had the blanket that had been stolen from him.
The sun was up by the time that he reached Stamford and he hurried to the meadows outside the south gate where the bulls were kept. It seemed that half of the towne had gathered and there was quite a stir of excitement in the air. He scanned the crowd for anyone that he might recognize. While he was looking, he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a familiar voice. Turning, he faced a friend from Easton-on-the-hill.
'Oy, I was nay sure that you were going to make it for the rune,' said his friend. 'You 'ave been to Bourne, aye?'
'Aye, and then sume,' replied Bromley. 'I will tell you about it after the rune.'
'So, Margaret is letting you rune, is she?'
chided his friend.
'She does nay mind, she wanted me to rune,' said Bromley, stretching the truth just a little.
He wished that he had gotten home in time to stop and see her before the run. She was probably worried about him and it made him feel badly. But, there was no time for that. Soon, the bulls were to be led to the start of the run by ropes attached to their noses. Two ropes would be attached to each bull and a strong man would be on the end of each rope. This would be the only way to keep the wild animals under control, especially since they had been tormented now for several days by the boys of the towne.