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'Why can't Alice come with me? Two pairs of eyes are better than one,' I suggested.
The Spook glared at us in turn. 'Are you two bound by an invisible chain?' he asked, shaking his head. 'You've hardly been apart lately. No, I've made up my mind. The girl stays here!'
Alice glanced at me and I saw fear flicker in her eyes as she thought of the blood jar, the only thing keeping the Fiend at bay. Inside that jar were six drops of blood: three of hers and three of mine. Alice was safe too as long as she stayed close to me. But if I went down into the town alone, there was nothing to stop the Fiend taking his revenge upon her. So I knew that, although she didn't argue now, she'd disobey the Spook and follow me.
I set off down the hill soon after dark, leaving my cloak, bag and staff behind. It seemed that the islanders didn't welcome spooks or their apprentices. By now they could be searching for us in the town. The clouds had blown away and it was a clear starry night with a pale half-moon high in the sky. Once I'd walked a hundred yards or so I stopped and waited. It wasn't long before Alice was by my side.
'Did Mr Gregory try to stop you?' I asked.
Alice shook her head. 'Told him I was off hunting for rabbits, but he shook his head and glanced down at my feet so I know he didn't believe me.'
I saw that her feet were bare.
'I sneaked my shoes into your bag, Tom. Less chance of anyone thinking I'm a witch that way.'
We set off down the hill and soon emerged from the trees onto a gra.s.sy slope made slippery by the recent rain. Alice wasn't used to going barefoot and slipped onto her bottom twice before we reached the first of the cottages and found a gritted track.
Ten minutes later we were in the town, making our way through the narrow cobbled streets towards the harbour. Douglas thronged with sailors, but there were a few women about too, some of them barefoot like Alice so apart from being the prettiest by far, she didn't stand out in any way.
There were almost as many seagulls as people and they seemed aggressive and fearless, swooping down towards people's heads. I saw one s.n.a.t.c.h a slice of bread from a man's hand just as he was about to take a bite.
'Horrible birds, those,' said Alice. 'Rats with wings, they are.'
After a while we came to a broad, busy thoroughfare in which every fifth house seemed to be an inn. I glanced through the window of the first tavern. It looked full, but I didn't realize how full until I opened the door. Warm air and a strong odour of ale wafted over me; the loud, boisterous crowd of drinkers inside were standing shoulder to shoulder. I saw that I would have to push my way in forcefully, so I turned, shook my head at Alice and led the way further down the street.
All the other inns we pa.s.sed looked equally busy, but then I glanced down a side street that sloped away towards the harbour and saw what looked like another tavern. When I opened the door, it was almost deserted, with just a few men sitting on stools at the bar. I was about to step inside when the proprietor shook his fist at me and Alice.
'Be off with you! We don't allow riff-raff in here!' he shouted.
I didn't need telling twice the last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself. I was just about to head back towards the main thoroughfare when Alice pointed in the opposite direction.
'Try there, Tom. Looks like another tavern further down . . .'
She was soon proved right. It was right at the end of the narrow street, on the corner, the main door facing towards the harbour. Like the last tavern, it was almost empty, with just a few people standing at the bar clutching tankards of ale. The proprietor looked across at me with interest rather than hostility, and that curiosity quickly decided me it was better to get out. But just as I turned to go, a voice called my name.
'Well, if it isn't Tom Ward!' And a large red-faced man with side whiskers strode towards me.
It was Captain Baines of the Celeste, the ship that Mam had chartered for our voyage to Greece the previous summer. He operated out of Sunderland Point. No doubt he'd sailed here with a hold full of those fleeing the invaders.
'It's good to see you, lad. The girl too!' he said, looking at Alice, who was standing in the open doorway. 'Come across and warm yourselves by the fire.'
The captain wore a long, dark, waterproof coat with a thick grey woollen jumper underneath: sailors certainly knew how to dress for cold weather. He led the way back to a bare wooden table in the corner, and we sat down on stools facing him.
'Are you hungry?' he asked.
I nodded. I was starving. Apart from a few mouthfuls of cheese, the last thing we'd eaten had been the rabbits that Alice had cooked the previous night.
'Landlord, bring us two steak and ale pies and make them piping hot!' he called out towards the bar, then turned back to face us. 'Who brought you across the water?' he asked, lowering his voice.
'We came in a small fishing boat. We were dropped south of Douglas but ran into trouble right away. We were lucky to escape. A man with a club tried to arrest us but Mr Gregory knocked him out.'
'Where's your master now?'
'He's up on the hillside south of the town. He sent me down to see if I could hire a boat to take us further west to Ireland.'
'You've little chance of that, young Tom. My own ship, the Celeste, is impounded and has armed guards on board. As for the people I brought here, they're all in custody. Same with the refugees from the other ships. You can't really blame the islanders though. The last thing they want is for the invaders to come here. They're scared of witches fleeing the County too and with good reason. A small fishing boat came ash.o.r.e to the north. Both crew members were dead they'd been drained of blood and their thumb-bones cut away.'
At that Alice gave a little gasp. I knew what she was thinking. The Pendle witches would no doubt stay put and wait to see what happened. But this could well be the work of another witch some would have fled the County and what if it was Alice's mother?
What if Bony Lizzie was at large on the island?
Chapter 5.
We both tucked into our hot steak and ale pies while the captain told us what he knew. It seemed that almost all the refugees were being returned to the County. The leaders of the island's Ruling Council were afraid that if they weren't, Mona would be the next place to come under attack.
'That's why the Celeste is impounded. Soon I'll be sailing back to Sunderland Point, returning those who fled to the tender mercies of the enemy. There'll still be armed guards on board to make sure that I do just that. The only ones who'll stay here are the witches they find not that I was carrying any. Mind you, some who aren't really witches will be tested and found guilty. No doubt innocents will suffer ...'
He was referring to what the Spook called the 'falsely accused'. He was right: no doubt at least one real witch had reached Mona, but many other innocent women would be forced to pay a terrible price for what she'd done.
'My advice would be to head inland, then towards the south-western coast. There's a fishing town, Port Erin, and lots of small villages further south on that peninsula. Refugees aren't likely to put ash.o.r.e there, so there'll be fewer people watching out for them. You might get yourselves a pa.s.sage to Ireland from there ...'
'Sounds like good advice to me, Tom,' Alice said with a smile.
I smiled back, but then the expression on her face changed to one of fear and horror. She was staring at the door, as if sensing danger.
Suddenly it burst open and half a dozen large men brandishing clubs surged in. They wore leather jerkins with the three-legged insignia yeomen. A tall man with a dark moustache and carrying a sword at his hip clearly their leader followed them inside. They all halted near the door, their eyes sweeping the room, looking at the occupants of each table as well as those standing at the bar. It was then that I noticed they had a prisoner.
He also wore a leather jerkin with the badge. It accentuated his bulk; he was tall and very thick-set. Why would they hold one of their own captive? I wondered. What had he done wrong? Then I saw that the man was bound, but in a strange, cruel way. A length of fine silver chain ran from each ear to the hands of the two guards who flanked him. His ears had been pierced very close to his head and the holes through which the chains pa.s.sed were red and inflamed.
The prisoner sniffed loudly three times and spoke, his voice as harsh as a file rasping against metal. 'I smell woman! There's a woman here, Commander Stanton,' he said, turning towards the tall man with the moustache.
The guards all stared at Alice. She was the only female in the room.
The prisoner started to approach our table, the two flanking guards keeping pace, with Stanton further to one side. As he did so, I noticed two things simultaneously: the first was that he was blind, his eyeb.a.l.l.s milky-white; the second sent a tremor of fear down my spine and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
He had dark, curly, matted hair more like the hide of an animal than human hair. Through it, very high on his forehead, protruded two very short curved horns. They were white, and each came to a sharp point. This wasn't a man; it was an abhuman, the result of a union between the Fiend and a witch.
'This is no woman!' laughed Stanton. 'It's just a scrawny girl with dirty feet. Try again!'
This time the abhuman didn't sniff; he just peered at Alice as though his blind eyes could actually see her. A puzzled expression creased his face.
'Well, come on,' the commander demanded in an impatient voice. 'Is the girl a witch or not?'
'She has darkness inside her!' cried the abhuman. 'Dark power!'
'Well, that's all we need to know! Seize her, lads!' he cried, and two men stepped forward and dragged Alice off her stool. She didn't try to struggle her eyes were wide and filled with fear.
I knew just one thing wherever they took Alice, I had to go too. If she was separated from the blood jar, the Fiend would take his revenge on her. However, as it turned out, I didn't need to do anything.
'Check the other two!' Stanton commanded. 'They were talking to a witch. Could be they're in league together. Maybe one of them's a warlock ...'
The abhuman looked at Captain Baines next. 'No darkness here,' he growled.
'What about the boy, then?'
Now it was my turn, but after studying me with his blind eyes, the creature looked even more puzzled. His mouth opened twice to reveal two rows of sharp yellow teeth, but no words came out.
'We haven't got all day. What's the problem?'
'A sliver of darkness is buried deep within his soul. A very small piece ...'
'It's enough! Bring him along!' snapped Stanton. 'It's a long time since we tested a male witch. They're very rare.'
I just had time to glance back at Captain Baines's anxious face before I was seized too, and moments later my hands were tied behind my back and I was outside the tavern with Alice, being dragged by rough hands up the hill towards the main thoroughfare.
After a forced march through the busy streets, during which we were jostled, jeered and spat on, we arrived at last at the outskirts of the town and were pushed aboard a dray-cart pulled by four st.u.r.dy shire horses. The driver cracked his whip and we set off along a track; having glanced up at the stars and noted the position of the Plough constellation, I judged it was taking us roughly north-west. Alice and I weren't alone in the cart. We were guarded by three thick-set men with clubs who looked more than willing to use them. Our hands were still tied and there wasn't the slightest chance of escape.
The men didn't speak at first and seemed content to stare at us. We both lowered our eyes, not wanting to give them any excuse for violence, and kept quiet, but after a little less than an hour, I judged, one of them nudged me with his club.
'See that, boy?' he said, pointing to his right.
In the distance, lit by the moon, was some sort of fortification. I could see a tower surrounded by castellated walls, with a mountain beyond it.
'That's Greeba Keep,' he continued. 'You might just live to see it again!'
The other yeomen laughed. 'But once in there you'll wish you'd died! It's the lucky ones who are pulled out dead!' said one.
I didn't bother to ask him what he meant and remained silent until the cart finally came to a halt. We seemed to have reached a village. It was surrounded by trees, and hills rose up on either side. We were pulled down from the cart and taken past a large, curious mound of earth. It was shaped like a barrow but had four tiers. I'd never seen anything quite like it. Beyond stood another stone tower this one much smaller than the first. I wondered if it was for holding prisoners, and was soon proved correct.
We were dragged up some steps to a door about halfway up the tower, and after our hands had been untied we were thrust inside. The door clanged behind us, a key turned in the lock and the guards went back down the stairs, their footsteps echoing off the stones.
I looked about me. A single candle stood in a recess in the wall, flickering in the draught from a narrow window far above. The cell was circular, with no furniture and only dirty straw covering the damp flags of the floor.
'Don't like this place much,' said Alice, her voice hardly more than a whisper.
'You may not like it, girl,' said a voice from the shadows to our right, 'but you'd better make the best of it. It's the most comfortable you'll ever be again. This is the Tynwald witch tower after you leave here, there's only pain and death to look forward to.'
Someone stepped out of the shadows to confront us. It was a tall girl of about eighteen or nineteen with dark glossy hair which reached down to her shoulders. She wore a pretty blue dress and her skin was clean and shining with health. She didn't look much like a prisoner.
'Came across the water from the County, did you?' she asked.
I nodded. 'My name's Tom Ward and this is my friend, Alice.'
She glanced at Alice then gave me a warm smile. 'My name's Adriana Lonan,' she said. 'I was born and bred on Mona and they've left me alone until now. But everything's gone crazy and they're testing even their own folk to see if they're witches.'
'Are you a witch?' I asked.
Adriana nodded. 'I'm a bird witch,' she said.
'You mean you have a bird for a familiar,' Alice corrected her.
The girl tossed her hair and frowned. 'I don't have a familiar. Don't give my blood to anything. Not dark stuff like that. I'm a bird witch. Birds are my friends. We help each other. What about you, Alice? Are you a witch?'
Alice shook her head. 'I come from a clan of Pendle witches and I was taught the dark craft for two years. But no, I'm not a witch. Ain't right that we've been brought here, especially Tom. He's a spook's apprentice and fights for the light. They say he's a warlock, but that ain't true.'
Adriana stared at me, her face very serious. 'Did Horn sniff you out?'
'The abhuman? Yes,' I told her. 'He said Alice had darkness inside her and that I had a sliver of dark too.'
'Then maybe you do,' Adriana murmured. 'None of us are perfect. But whatever we are won't count for much when we're tested tomorrow.'
'What'll they do?' asked Alice. 'Will they swim us? Ain't going to use the press, are they?'
Swimming was the most popular way of testing to see if someone was a witch or not. Your hands were tied to your feet and you were thrown into a pond. Sometimes your right thumb was bound to your left big toe, left thumb to right toe. It was a funny name for the test how could you swim like that? If you sank and probably drowned, you were innocent. If you somehow managed to float, then you were considered guilty, taken away and burned at a stake.
Pressing was even worse. You were chained to a table, and over a period of time heavy stones were placed on your body, often as many as thirteen. After a while you could hardly breathe. If you confessed because of the pain, they burned you. If you didn't, you were slowly crushed to death. And if you managed to stay alive for more than an hour it was a.s.sumed that the Fiend had saved you and you were burned anyway.
'No, we islanders have our own way of doing things,' Adriana replied. 'Someone suspected of witchcraft is taken to the summit of Slieau Whallian, a large hill to the south, and sealed inside a barrel one with sharp iron spikes inside. Then she's rolled down the hill. If she's still alive at the bottom, they think she's been protected by the dark and she's taken away and ...' Her voice faded away before she'd finished the sentence and I saw that her eyes were filled with fear.
'Do many survive?' I asked.
'The guard told me that two survived and one of them was badly spiked out of the seven who were rolled yesterday. I tried to tell them what to do. There is a way to get to the bottom without being cut too badly. Not all the barrels are the same so you'd need a bit of luck, but if you can find s.p.a.ce between the spikes, you can use your arms and legs to brace yourself against the inside. As the barrel spins, centrifugal force presses you into the spikes so you have to hold yourself clear. Then, providing the barrel doesn't hit a big b.u.mp on the way down, you don't bounce around inside and get jolted onto the spikes.'
'How do you know it works?'
'I know a man at the brewery who makes some of the special barrels to order. When a new apprentice cooper starts, they have a ritual. They put him in a spiked barrel and roll him slowly from one side of the workshop to the other while all the other craftsmen bang their hammers on the bench tops and cheer. But first he's shown how to wedge himself in. At the worst he might suffer a few cuts, that's all. But I've never managed to talk to anyone who's survived to the bottom of Slieau Whallian. If they're still alive, they're taken away immediately.'
'Big difference between being rolled slowly and bounced about,' said Alice. 'If you told them what to do, why didn't more survive yesterday?'
'Some were probably too scared and upset to listen to what I told them,' Adriana explained. 'Maybe they wanted to die in the barrel ...'
'Why would they want that?' I asked.
'Because of what happens to you if you do survive. That's even worse than being rolled. They feed you to the buggane ...'
Chapter 6.