The Gallows Curse (49 page)

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Authors: Karen Maitland

BOOK: The Gallows Curse
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    But
tonight Elena lay awake in the suffocating heat listening to the snuffles,
snores and groans of the sleepers and the occasional distant barking of a hound
somewhere in the town. Finch had not returned. His small, fragile face floated
before her eyes. She was haunted by that look of fear and abandonment he had
cast at her as she'd walked out of that room, leaving him alone with Hugh and
that monstrous cat.

    But
Finch wasn't the only thing keeping her awake. Luce was absent from the
sleeping chamber too. If she was still on watch, that must mean that Hugh was
still somewhere here in the brothel. Maybe he too was lying awake at this
moment or sipping his wine, trying to remember where he'd last seen the whore
in that chamber. It was the sort of thing that people nagged at in their minds.
It was the kind of recollection that came suddenly in the middle of the night.

    Even
with her dyed hair, he might recall her face, an expression, a gesture. What if
he'd already left and was even now on his way back here with the sheriff? Elena
lay rigid, her stomach aching with fear. Despite the heat, she had not dared to
undress. It made her feel less vulnerable to be clothed, and if they came for
her, it would be easier to run and hide, or even break away from them at the
door.

    She
found herself planning how she might escape. If they came while it was still
dark, she could run down into the cellar where the animals were. She was sure
none of the other girls knew the entrance, for if they did then she'd have
surely heard them gossiping about the identity of the mutilated man in the
cage.

    But
if they came in daylight, what then? Would Ma be able to hide her before they searched?
Would Ma even want to hide her? She'd already threatened to hand her over if
Elena didn't earn her keep, and she knew she had hardly done that.

    Elena
became aware of a movement in the darkness. Slowly and silently the door of the
sleeping chamber was opening. Elena drew herself up and crouched tensely in the
darkness.
Please let it be Finch,
she prayed.

    The
figure behind the upraised lantern was short enough to be Finch, but it wasn't.
Ma held the lantern aloft, sweeping the soft light over the sleepers, most of
whom barely stirred. When the yellow beam caught Elena crouching on her pallet,

    Ma
beckoned with a long pointed fingernail, the flame glinting in the ruby on her
hand.

    Panic
tightened Elena's throat. Was this it? Was Ma going to hand her over to them?
On shaking legs she picked her way through the sleeping women, her mind
galloping ahead of her. If she pushed Ma over, she could run, but where to? Ma
knew all about the cellar. Her only hope was to make a dash for it once she was
outside the brothel.

    Elena
blundered towards the door. Ma caught her wrist and pulled her outside.

    'You're
trembling, my darling, I can feel it. Are you getting a fever?' She held the
lantern up, peering suspiciously into Elena's face.

    Elena
shielded her eyes from the light and stared wildly round the courtyard. 'Have
they come for me?'

    Ma
chuckled softly. 'Ah, so that's it. No, they've not come . . . yet. But I need
your help with Finch. This way.'

    She
started off in the direction of the upper chamber, but Elena hung back.

    'Come
on, my darling. If you're afraid of running into Master Hugh, he's long gone,
for now anyway.'

    Ma
thrust the lantern into Elena's hands as she heaved herself up the staircase,
clinging to the rope which ran alongside. Although the steps were shallower
than normal to accommodate Ma's shortened stride, still her progress was
laborious. There was no sign of Luce. Ma thrust open the door of the chamber.
She hung the lantern on a hook inside and with a jerk of her head motioned
Elena to enter.

    Elena
edged cautiously through the door keeping close to the wall, expecting the cat
to spring out at any moment, but there was no warning growl.

    'The
beast's safely back in its cage below,' Ma said.

    It
was hard to make out anything clearly in the dingy yellow light of the lantern,
but Elena saw that the pallet on the bed had partly slipped off and there
seemed to be dark stains on it, though what they were, she couldn't tell.

    'Right,
my darling, I'll send Talbot along with some water and clothes. You get him
cleaned up and settled down. He'd best stay here the night and you with him for
company. I'll get Talbot to fetch up some herbed wine with poppy juice in it.
Get him to drink that if you can, it'll send him to sleep.'

    Ma
lifted the corner of the pallet. Finch sat under it in the tiny cave formed by
the hanging pallet and the side of the bed. His knees were drawn up to his chin
and he was rocking backwards and forwards. As the light hit him, he screwed his
eyes shut and began to sing in a quavering high-pitched voice —
Lavender's
green, diddle diddle, Lavender's blue.
He kept repeating the one line over
and over, as if it was a prayer.

    Elena
moved closer, bending down. But the child kept his eyes so tightly shut that no
chink of light could possibly penetrate them. He was half naked. The long grey
rat's-skin cloth was shredded, and beneath, Elena could see great long livid
welts, oozing blood, standing swollen and proud from his flesh. His arms and
legs were also scored with them, and though she could not see his back she
guessed it might be the same. Had he been flogged? She suddenly realized what
the dark stains on the pallet were — they were bloodstains, Finch's blood.

    Outraged,
Elena sprang up and wheeled round to face Ma. 'You promised! You said he'd only
hurt him a little. Is that what you call a little? You knew he was going to do
this, didn't you? How much did he pay you to let him hurt Finch? How much?'

    Without
thinking what she was doing, she made to grab Ma and shake her, but the tiny
woman was too quick and strong for her and in an instant had seized both
Elena's wrists in an unbreakable grip.

    'You
little fool! Do you really think I wanted this? Apart from anything else, it will
be weeks before this boy is fit to work again, and I'll have to feed and physic
him all the while.'

    Even
though Ma's fingers were crushing her bones, the pain did not cool Elena's
temper.

    'Is
that all you can think about — coins, money, jewels? He is just a little boy
and he's been badly hurt and scared half to death. He's in pain. Don't you feel
anything for him?'

    'You
think you know about pain or hurt?' Ma retorted savagely. 'I've seen more pain
and known more hurt than any soldier on the battlefield. You haven't begun to
understand what cruelties men can inflict, my darling, and women too; they're
sometimes the worst. But do you really imagine it will help the boy if I sit
and cry with him? Will that help him fight it the next time and the next?'

    'You're
not going to let Hugh near him again? You can't, please, Ma, you can't let
him,' Elena begged.

    Ma
released her hands and stood shaking her head sadly, so that the jewelled pins
in her shiny black hair glittered in the candlelight.

    'My
darling, do you think that if I tell that man I don't like what he's done to
the boy, it will stop him doing it to someone else, to another child who has no
protector?'

    You
dare to call this protection?' Although Elena was rubbing her bruised wrists,
her tone was still sharp with defiance and fury.

    'If
this had happened outside the stew, he probably would have gone on until he
killed the boy.' She patted Elena's thigh. 'Tend to Finch,' she said wearily.
You're the motherly sort. You can soothe him.'

    At
the door, Ma paused. 'Remember what I told you, my darling. If you survive you
can always have your revenge. Trust me when I tell you that the man who did
this will pay dearly for it, I can promise you that. He will pay.'

    After
Ma left, Talbot came lumbering in with a bowl of steaming water steeped with
sage and thyme, cloths, and almond oil and honey to rub in the wounds, as well
as a flask of wine. At the sight of the brawny gatekeeper, Finch retreated
further under the pallet.

    'You want
me to get him out?' Talbot growled.

    Elena
spread her arms defensively in front of the boy.

    'No,
no, leave him to me. He'll come in his own time.' She added this more to
reassure Finch that she would not force him than for Talbot's benefit.

    The
gatekeeper grunted and made for the door, rolling from side to side on his
bandy legs. 'If there's aught else the little runt needs, you fetch me, you
hear?' he said gruffly. 'Food, ale, anything he fancies. You just ask.'

    Elena
looked up, startled by this unexpected softness in the surly gatekeeper. You're
a kind man, Talbot.'

    Talbot
looked. 'Aye, well, no lad deserves to be used like that. I tell you straight,
you leave me alone in a dark alley with that bastard and I'd soon teach him
what fear is. I'd have him squealing for his mother in less time than it takes
for a priest to say a paternoster.' As if he already had Hugh standing in front
of him, Talbot clenched his great fists. 'By the time I'd finished with him,
he'd not be able to find his own prick to play with, much less someone else's.
One of these days that bastard'll get what he deserves; I'll make sure of
that.'

    He
closed the door behind him and Elena could hear his heavy footsteps retreating
back down the stairs.

    'Everyone's
gone now, Finch,' she said softly. 'Come out and let me wash those cuts and put
something on them to stop them hurting.'

    But
the child didn't stir. Elena tried again and again, coaxing him with wine and
the promise that she would not hurt him, but still there was no movement. She
refused to pull him out. Enough force had been used on Finch already. Finally,
she retreated to the far side of the room and sat exhausted, propped against
one of the walls, at a loss to know what to do next.

    What
on earth had Hugh done to the child? She'd been long enough in the stew to know
what certain men usually wanted from small boys, but those marks, how had he
inflicted those and what else had he done?

    From
under the pallet, she heard that faint, high-pitched singing again.

 

Lavender's green, diddle diddle, Lavender's blue.

Lavender's green, diddle diddle, Lavender's blue.

 

    It
was a thin, strange little voice that didn't sound like Finch or any child she
knew, more like the mewing of an animal in distress. Softly Elena joined in.

 

You must love me, diddle diddle, 'cause I love you,

Call up your maids, diddle diddle, set them to work.

Some to make hay, diddle diddle, some to the rock.

Let the birds sing, diddle diddle, let the lambs play,

We shall be safe, diddle diddle, deep in the hay.

 

    Without
warning the child erupted from under the pallet and flew across the room at
her, shrieking and pummelling her in the chest with his small fists. The attack
was so unexpected that Elena instinctively turned into the wall, covering her
face as the boy punched, kicked and tore at her in a frenzy.

    'You
promised,' he screamed. You said that if I got dressed everything would be all
right. You said the cat wouldn't hurt me, you said . . . you said it couldn't
get me. You lied, just like all of the rest. I hate you! I hate you!'

    He
crumpled on to the ground, exhausted, and lay there sobbing.

    Elena
hesitated, fearful of another assault, but finally she reached out a hand and
gently stroked Finch's curls. He flinched, drawing away from her and twisting
himself into an even tighter ball.

    'Go
away. Leave me alone. I hate you.'

    Tears
filled Elena's eyes. 'I didn't know he would hurt you, I swear I didn't. I'm
sorry, so sorry.'

    But
what the boy said didn't make sense. She couldn't imagine the cat allowing
itself to be mastered by any man it didn't know. Surely not even someone as
arrogant as Hugh would be so foolish as to unleash such a beast when it could
just as easily have turned on him.

    'I
don't understand, Finch. Did he let the cat off the chain?'

    The
boy, still lying on the floor, shook his head.

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