Blood and Clay (16 page)

Abraham
was red in the face and getting more and more agitated when his tirade was
interrupted by a knock at the door. Roger sat by the bed and said a prayer for
John as he waited for Abraham
’
s return.

When
Abraham walked back into the room he wasn
’
t alone. Trying to stay on her feet
as she was dragged by the arm was none other than Alizon Device.

I
held back the tears which began to prickle my eyes and make my nose run as the
peddler
’
s son grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the house.
Gabe followed, shouting at the man to let me go. He grabbed his arm but the man
was in a fair fury and just pulled away. I knew, all of a sudden, that this had
been a bad idea. Just moments before I had been enjoying my walk, hand in hand,
with Gabe. Ready to say sorry and move on and ready for the new life that would
follow with Gabe.
 
I had told him Gran
’
s tale and about Tibb and the black
dog but he said it was rubbish. Just Gran
’
s superstitions. He said we would
leave together, that I could live with him and his Mam and Pa until we could
afford a place of our own then we could steal Nettie away to live with us. It
had been the start of something new and I had felt free for the first time in
my life.

Now
I felt dread in every bone. My family didn
’
t know where I was. I wondered if
they would even care. They were busy preparing Malkin Tower for the naming
ceremony that was planned for my familiar the following night. This had been my
last chance to repent and make peace; to try to appease God before my soul was
promised to Tibb and his familiars and after that
…
I didn
’
t even want to think about it. Either
I would have gone the way of Gran and Mam or I would have gone with Gabe but
even then, would Nettie have taken my place? Would they have hunted me down? It
had been a worry but not so worrying as it was to be dragged into the house by
this huge man.

Just
as I felt the tears start to well up to the point of spilling onto my cheeks
the peddler
’
s son dragged then shoved me into a room but we were not
alone. I sighed with relief as I saw the Magistrate Roger Nowell. I knew that
nothing bad would happen while he was here. Gabe followed me into the room.

“
Uncle Roger! I mean... Mr Nowell, sorry Sir. Stop them.
Lizzie didn
’
t mean no harm.
”

“
It
’
s out of my hands Gabriel. I am sorry my child. Let us just
see what young Alizon has to say for herself.
”

Everyone
looked at me and I was about to speak and apologise when I looked around the
room.

My
relief soon turned to sorrow and guilt as I saw the man in the bed. He looked
nothing like the man I
’
d seen just over a week ago. Gone was the sun brushed face
and the ruddy red cheeks and in its place was sallow skin which seemed to be
hanging off the bones underneath. He stared at me with watery eyes and one side
of his face drooped. I dropped to the floor at the bottom of John Law
’
s bed and sobbed.

“
I
’
m sorry. I didn
’
t mean to do it. I don
’
t know how I did it. The dog did
something. He does my bidding but I didn
’
t know. I didn
’
t want to curse you; didn
’
t know I could. Now they want me to
be a witch. I
’
m sorry, so sorry.
”

With
the final words I began to sob harder until I was gasping for breath and was
unable to speak. I heard movement behind me and then Mr Nowell
’
s hushed whisper.
“
No Gabriel, not yet.
”

For
a while all in the room was silent apart from my sobbing until I suddenly
became aware of another voice crying. I looked up in surprise to see that John
Law had tears running down his face and a strangled cry was coming from his
mouth. He held his hand out to me slightly and gestured for me to come nearer.
His left side remained still and floppy but he seemed to have some movement in
his right side. The peddler
’
s son stared at his father in amazement. I approached the
head of the bed slowly. As I reached John Law I stopped, my hand resting
lightly on the bedspread. The peddler reached out slowly, took my hand and
squeezed it then gave a slight nod before drifting off to sleep.

“
He forgives me
”
I whispered, hardly daring to
believe it.

“
She
’
s bewitched him!
”
yelled the peddler
’
s son.

“
No I think your father truly did forgive her Abraham.
”

“
But she still did it to him in the first place. She admitted
it. You heard her.
”

As
the peddler
’
s son spoke he stood taller and moved towards me, his fists
clenched in anger.

“
Yes that is true
”
said Roger with a hint of a sigh
“
You had better go and get Constable
Hargreaves. He is waiting outside.
”

Abraham
left the room at speed, banging the door in its frame as he flung it open. John
Law flinched a bit in his sleep. I looked around as I came out of my daze. Gabe
was leaning towards me but was held back by his Uncle
’
s hand on his shoulder. The peddler
’
s son was gone but I hadn
’
t noticed when he had left. I hadn
’
t noticed a thing since John Law had
fallen asleep. I could still feel his warm, wrinkled hand in mine and I watched
as his chest rose and sank peacefully. He had forgiven me. With his forgiveness
and the grace of God maybe I would be strong enough to resist my familiar; the
one my kin had begun to call The Black Dog. The naming ceremony required that I
accept the spirit into my heart and give my soul willingly. Maybe now I could
find the strength to resist. Maybe I would be strong enough to run away to Gabe
’
s arms and home and to fight Mam and
Gran for my Nettie too.

I
smiled at Roger but he didn
’
t smile back. His face seemed to show equal measures of
annoyance and sorrow. Gabe smiled but I still felt my brow wrinkle in
confusion. As I was about to ask what bothered Mr Nowell Abraham came back into
the room. This time he was followed by Constable Hargreaves who was carrying
his trusty leather strap and a length of rope.

“
Am I to get a flogging?
”
I asked nervously. Though I didn
’
t want to be at the sore end of that
strap I knew that I had somehow caused the peddler
’
s suffering and was resigned to my
punishment.

“
Would that it was that easy Miss Device
”
said Roger as he nodded to Constable
Hargreaves.

“
Hold her hands Abe. Hold em fast, tight.
”
said the Constable as he advanced on
me.

“
No!
”
Gabe shouted and fought to get to me but Mr Nowell held
him back.

My
head whipped from man to man as the Constable and the peddler
’
s son came towards me while Roger
took a few steps backwards. I half crouched, ready to run as soon as there was
a gap but before I could move the peddler
’
s son was holding my hands and
Constable Hargreaves had begun wrapping the rope around my wrists. He tied it
tight and gave it a hard tug to check the strength of the knots. The tug sent a
shot of pain right through my arms from my wrists to my shoulders. The pain
made me fall to my knees with a cry but Hargreaves used the remaining length of
rope to pull me roughly back to my feet, so hard that for a second I felt as if
my arms were going to be ripped from their sockets. Again Gabe shouted and
struggled. He was taller and wider than his Uncle and managed to get free but
the peddler
’
s son was larger still. He launched himself at Gabe with
his full force and dragged him out of the room.

“
Not too hard Hargreaves
”
chastised Roger as the Constable
yanked at the rope around my wrists. Then he cleared his throat and turned to
address me.

“
Alizon Device. I am placing you under arrest and transporting
you forthwith to Lancaster gaol where you will await trial. You are to be tried
for the crime of witchcraft before the eyes of your peers and the eyes of God.
Your family shall be told of your arrest and, should they choose not to attend
the trial, will be advised by myself of your fate. Take her away Hargreaves.
”

I
stared around wildly and began to struggle in the ropes as I was half tugged
and half dragged out of the house and thrown onto the back of a cart where
Hargreaves tethered my rope to a large nail. I looked back to see Gabe
screaming and shouting in rage and panic, now restrained, not just by the
peddler
’
s son, but by two other like sized men. The cart set off
and I began to sob as I trundled towards yet another uncertain and most definitely
unpleasant future.

I
awoke with a jolt as the cart rumbled over a large stone which made my body
rise slightly off the cart then crash back down. The slam onto the wooden cart
made my bones shake and I felt as if my whole side was bruised. I struggled to
push myself up into a sitting position by putting all of my weight on my elbows
which were now raw and grazed from the repeated bumps and scrapes I had endured
over the past few hours of riding on the back of the cart. There was a bitter
nip in the air and day had turned into night, though what time it was or how
long we had travelled I couldn
’
t guess. I tried to move my wrists but they had now gone
numb, a blessing, perhaps, after the sharp pains that had plagued me hours
before. Though the pain was now gone I could still see the deep red grooves in
my wrists where the rough rope had worn away my skin. Dry spots of blood
covered the underside of the rope and had made it even less flexible as the
blood had crusted over and hardened the fibres.

I
tried to stretch my legs and back and looked around at the landscape. I
realized now why I had woken up. As I sat up properly I saw that we were no
longer in the Lancashire countryside but had arrived in a city. As we trundled
past shops and public houses people clamoured around the cart, ignoring me
completely as if it were nothing strange to see a girl bound by ropes on the
back of a cart. I was assaulted by a world of scents which made my stomach
cramp in hunger at both the strange and familiar food smells before lurching in
disgust at the unpleasant, acrid smells of open sewers. The streets were a mix
of people; poor folk begging, drunken men and women stumbling out of the
various buildings and richly decorated horses and carts carrying finely dressed
men and women. Finally I saw a huge building looming in the distance. Bigger
than Malkin Tower, bigger even than the church at Newchurch that I often
watched from afar on a Sunday. This building was as close to a castle as
anything that I had ever imagined.

“
Aye ye might well stare girl
”
said Constable Hargreaves, his voice
breaking into my thoughts.
“
This
’
ll be your home for some time now. Welcome to Lancaster
Gaol.
”

My
stomach flipped and my skin tingled as goosebumps rose on my arms. All feeling
suddenly returned to my wrists and the pain made my wince. As the cart trundled
over the drawbridge into the gaol grounds the noise of the city faded to
eventually be cut off as the bridge was raised. All was silent but for the clip
clop of the horse
’
s hooves. As we reached a second door, thick oak studded
with iron, a man called down from a parapet.