Devil's Rock (17 page)

‘Not the first time someone’s tried to kill ’im,’ Mrs Ball muttered as we gathered together all we might need. ‘With luck, we’ll be too late to save ’im.’

One half of me agreed with the old woman’s sentiment, the other half feared I would be cheated of my revenge.

Maunder’s house, although it was the largest in the settlement, was cold and dark and it stank. Entering it was more like entering an animal’s cave than entering a human dwelling. We found Maunder lying on a filthy bed with Crab holding a glass of rum to his lips. Maunder’s normally dark face was pale, almost as pale as the white scar that ran down from under his left eye, through both his full lips and made a parting in his beard.

‘What took ’ee so long?’ he managed to grunt. Maunder’s right breast was a mass of blood.

‘I’ll need light,’ Mrs Ball said calmly. Crab did not move. He clearly took no orders from women.

‘Fetch a light, you scabby cur!’ snarled Maunder. Crab leapt from the room and returned with a lighted lantern.

‘Stabbed or shot?’ enquired Mrs Ball.

‘Shot,’ Maunder muttered. ‘The dog fired on me before I could finish him. But we’ll throw him off Devil’s Rock in the mornin’.’ He laughed an ugly laugh, then coughed blood into his beard. Mrs Ball probed the wound and shook her head. ‘It’s in too deep.’

‘Dig it out,’ commanded Maunder.

‘No, Mr Maunder, I will not. My hands are not as steady as they were. One slip and I fear I will kill you. You need a surgeon.’

‘Fetch my pistol, Crab.’

Crab did as he was told.

‘Hold it to the girl’s head. If the old woman’s hand slips, shoot the girl.’

And so the operation began, Crab gripping me tightly around the shoulders, his breath stinking of rum, the gun pressed to my head, Maunder groaning and cursing, beads of sweat on his forehead, Mrs Ball bent over him in the dim light of the lantern.

At last, Mrs Ball straightened. She threw a desperate glance in my direction. I could see how her hands were shaking. My whole body began to tremble uncontrollably as the cold sweat ran down inside my clothing. Crab was smiling a nasty smile. I was sure I was about to die.

The flickering light, my cold, shaking body, the rush of fear, reminded me of the night of the Devil Dances. I remembered the Edura – his old body transformed, powerful, the hideous mask on his face, standing over me as I lay with Una on the ground. I closed my eyes and thought I would faint but instead I seemed to slide, merge with the Edura’s image. I was the shaman and he was Riri Yakka, the Demon of Blood. I felt my body swelling, my face transforming; I was becoming the demon.

I heard a cry. Looking down, I saw Crab cringing away from me, the gun in his hand. He fired, but the shot bounced harmlessly from my body. Mrs Ball stood, her mouth open, shaking her head in bewildered disbelief. In the low room, I had to bow my head to avoid bumping it on the ceiling as I stepped towards Maunder. My impulse was to use my mighty devil’s body to crush the life out of him, but instead my hand plunged into his chest, plucked out the bullet and then gently closed up the flesh. The Edura’s bracelet had given me the power to cure but not to kill.

In a flash, it was over and I was myself again. For a moment there was absolute silence, then Maunder began to roar, Mrs Ball screamed and Crab gibbered and whimpered nonsense in the corner. Quickly, I took Mrs Ball’s arm and drew her out of the house. When the uproar inside had subsided, I instructed her to re-enter Maunder’s house with me and to behave as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I knew that both men had taken a good deal of rum before we arrived and I hoped that they might put the apparition they had just seen down to the effects of the drink.

We cleaned the blood from Maunder’s chest and I made a great play of dressing the wound, although there was now not even a scratch on his body. I knew this sleight of hand would not hide the truth for long and that Maunder, when sober, would come demanding an explanation for the ‘miracle’ cure, but I needed time to think. I was sure I could use the events of the night to my advantage but I needed to work out how.

It was almost morning by the time we returned to Mrs Ball’s cottage. Una was waiting. As soon as Una saw us safely home she wanted to leave, to go down to her place on the rocks by the water’s edge. I forced her to remain with us while I told Mrs Ball about our lives in Ceylon, about the Edura and his gift of the bracelets. I even showed Mrs Ball how I could make the grey cat appear and disappear. Mrs Ball listened and watched without asking any questions. Perhaps, being a midwife and a healer, she already knew a good deal about that mysterious thing we call life. Had she and the Edura ever met they would, no doubt, have sat down together and discussed the efficaciousness of different charms and herbal cures. When I had finished my story she called us to sit by her on the settle. She put an arm around each of us like an old mother hen who spreads her wings over her chicks. ‘I have done what I can to protect you,’ she said, ‘but you have shown your hand. These are terrible wicked men. Take care, my dears, take care.’

I did not need Mrs Ball to warn me of the danger we were in but it touched my heart to know that there was still one person in the world who cared for our safety.

Midday brought Maunder to the door with Crab trailing at his heels. ‘I’ve come for the witch,’ were his words when Mrs Ball opened the door to him.

‘Leave the girl be,’ Mrs Ball pleaded, but he pushed past her with a growl and an oath.

‘Here I am,’ I said, as steadily as I could, holding my ground as the giant advanced, menacingly across the room.

‘How do you explain this, witch?’ he demanded, opening his shirt and thrusting a chest covered with matted hair into my face. ‘Where’s the wound?’

‘It appears to have healed,’ I replied, coolly, taking a step back.

‘Witchcraft! That’s what this be – witchcraft!’

‘Witchcraft, aye, witchcraft,’ echoed Crab, sidling around Maunder.

‘Shut yer hatch,’ snapped Maunder and Crab hopped quickly back behind his master.

Maunder placed a huge, rough hand on the back of my neck. ‘What you did last night – I want to know what you did last night – and I want to know how you did it.’ He tightened his grip on my neck and I felt that with one twist and he could snap my spine like a twig.

My mind was racing. For a start, I didn’t know how I had summoned the demon, it had just happened. Secondly, I had no desire to reveal the secret of the bracelets. In addition, I had learnt one very important thing the night before and that was that the bracelets had the power to mend but not to destroy. They could not be used as weapons.

‘I will reveal the secret of my powers,’ I said, grandly, ‘but to you and to you alone. If the secret were to fall into the wrong hands, it could be used against you.’

A sly smile spread across the brute’s face. ‘Crab, get out!’

‘No,’ I said, ‘I can’t show you now. I need to make some preparations and I need to be certain that we will not be disturbed.’

Maunder’s face darkened with suspicion but I stared him out. ‘All right, I’ll give ’ee till tonight. Meet me on the beach.’ He released the hold on my neck and marched out of the house. Crab scuttled after him but paused before leaving. ‘You’ll see what we do to witches,’ he sneered before disappearing.

g

So, I was a witch, was I? Then I would make a witch’s brew. As soon as Maunder and Crab were out of sight, I took up Mrs Ball’s basket and set out to collect those leaves and berries I knew to contain deadly poisons. If I could not use the bracelet to rid the world of Maunder, then I would use the secrets Mrs Ball had taught me. As I gathered my ingredients I began to plot how I might persuade Maunder to swallow my medicine. The skull of a sheep, complete with curling horns, lying by the cliff path gave me an idea. Maunder was already half convinced that I was a witch. I might not be able to call up a demon any time I wished, but I could create phantasms: birds, animals, serpents, anything I was capable of imagining I could bring to fleeting life. With a bit of stagecraft and imagination I would become the witch he imagined me to be.

Returning to the cottage, I set my evil brew over the fire while I prepared the properties for my performance. The sheep’s horns would be my drinking vessels, its skull and leg bone would be my drum, and Mrs Ball’s cooking pot would be my cauldron. I mixed wood ash with fat and made a grey paste with which I painted my face in a ghostly mask. With a finger dipped in charcoal I drew black rings around my eyes. I rubbed red earth into my hair and plaited small bones into the ends of the matted tresses. I chewed berries until my mouth turned blue. My clothes were already worn to rags; it took little effort to convert them into a witch-like costume of shreds and tatters.

Mrs Ball’s screamed with horror when she caught sight of me, but I wonder whether this ruse would work on Maunder?

As the sun began to set, I hid my disguise beneath a hooded cloak borrowed from Mrs Ball, placed the sheep’s bones and horns in a bag, took up my cauldron and stepped out to keep my rendezvous. The brave old lady offered to accompany me, but I begged her instead to look after my sister. As I made my way down the hill into the darkness of the valley, I wondered if I should have told Una of my plan.

Approaching the beach, I saw a cluster of shadowy figures out on the pale sand, some holding lanterns. Drawing nearer, I saw others held unlit torches made from timbers dipped in pitch. To my dismay, Maunder had brought a group of his vile henchmen with him. ‘Who are these people and why are they here?’ I demanded with as bold a voice as I could muster.

‘Some friends o’ mine.’ Maunder replied. And I recognised Crab’s evil snigger from amongst the gathering.

‘I said we were to be alone!’

‘Follow me,’ was all the answer I received.

I was now very much afraid that my masquerade was all for nothing and felt like a silly little girl who dresses up to play-act for the amusement of adults.

The tide was out and Maunder led us across the estuary’s sandy floor. My steps faltered as the realisation struck me; we were headed for Devil’s Rock! Was I, like that poor unfortunate who attempted to shoot Maunder, to be thrown to my death from the rock’s black summit? Two of the party were carrying spades. Maybe they intended to bury me in Stapleton’s field. I chased these morbid thoughts from my mind. No – Maunder wanted to know the secret of my powers. He was not about to kill me before he had gained what he wanted to know.

Reaching the opposite side of the empty estuary, we stopped by a low, seaweed-covered cliff. Half a waning moon peered through the branches of the trees on the hill above and the long ribbons of kelp that hung from the rocks glistened in its thin light. All this would be below water at high tide.

‘Wait here,’ Maunder ordered his followers. ‘You, come with me.’

‘Where are we going?’ I tried to sound forceful but my voice shook.

‘Ye’ll see.’

I began to follow Maunder around a boulder that sat like a ball in front of the cliff.

‘I’ll need a fire,’ I said, stopping, ‘to brew the potion that will give you my powers.’

Maunder retraced his steps and stood glaring down at me. Then he turned to his men. ‘Light two of the torches.’

A taper, lighted from a lantern, was held to each torch until it burst into spluttering flame.

‘Give one to me and one to the girl.’

‘Tell your men to leave,’ I said imperiously.

‘I don’t follow your bidding. You’ll do as I say. Last night you did change yourself to a fiend from hell. Heaven knows what dark powers you may possess. These men will wait until we both come out. If you should come out without me, they have orders to kill you.’ And again I heard Crab’s demonic giggle.

Now I saw how stupid I had been. A rogue like Maunder does not survive without being cunning. I was a fool to think he could be tricked so easily. Even if I could persuade him to take the poison I had prepared, I would not escape with my life.

Maunder led the way into the low mouth of a cave behind the boulder, the shadows twisting and leaping in the light from our flaming torches. Once inside, I saw we were in a passage, partly the work of nature, partly hewn by human hands. Soon rough steps climbed upwards and then we entered a chamber with a soft sandy floor. Around the walls were piled sea chests, boxes and oak casks that I assumed contained liquor. Here was Maunder’s treasure trove – that part of the plunder that he hid from Stapleton.

Maunder threw back the lid of one of the chests, revealing silver tableware, ornaments, jewellery, and candlesticks, all jumbled together.

‘Do right by me, maid, and a share of what you see could be yours.’ He slammed the lid shut. ‘Cross me and I’ll slit yer throat!’ He unsheathed his knife and ran his thumb menacingly across its sharp edge. In the confines of the cave, the man seemed huge, taking up all the space, breathing all the air, his monstrous shadow dancing across the rough walls and ceiling behind him. How could I possibly prevail against him? What hope had my puny plan? I was in despair. All was lost. I was too young, too weak, too small. Why was there no one to help me? I felt again my mother’s hand slipping from my grasp. I closed my eyes and saw her gentle, smiling face. Then anger and hatred boiled up inside me. Here was the man who wrecked our boat and caused her to drown. Here was the man who killed both my parents and drove my sister mad with grief. He, Maunder, had done this. He must pay for what he had done!