by Adair, Mary
Whitmore dug in his purse to retrieve several coins. "Take good care of my friend, Granny," he said as he laid the coins on a small bedside table.
"Of course, I will."
"I know in your kindness you would care for him regardless, but he is an old and trusted friend of mine."
"I see," she answered as her nimble fingers checked her patient.
"I understood his companion was already here."
Granny wrung her hands. "Well, she's not here at the moment. She was on her way to see the Magistrate. We were told Magistrate Whipple 'ad him locked up for some trumped up charge. Dawn went to check up on 'im. She'll be back as soon as she learns he's been released."
"Rest assured I'll be looking into who made that charge."
Granny turned back to her patient. "It's a good thing ye were 'ere to set the matter straight. There 'as been too great a delay in his care as it is. Do ye know 'ow long ago it was that he came about this wound?" With sure fingers she pealed the bandage back.
"Afraid not." He stepped closer to take a look, then quickly pulled back at the sight. "I'd say, it hasn't been long, but it's a bad enough wound that it should have been taken care of before now. There are some pretty nasty streaks. It looks to me as if it's septic."
"Yes, I believe yer right." She placed a clean cloth over the wound and raised the covers. Turning she indicated the coin left by Whitmore. "Why do ye leave coin? Ye know I don't take money for helping the ill." She walked to the table and picked up the coins and held them out to Whitmore.
"I know. And I think we've had this conversation before." He took the coins she passed him and placed them back on the table. "The villagers bring you chickens or bread or fabric. They share with you what they can when they can. Well, I have coin. Let me share with you what I have."
The old midwife smiled and nodded. She and her husband needed the coin too badly to refuse it. '"Ow is yer good lady?"
"Actually, she's suffering from one of her head pains. I'll have to tell her, if not for her illness, I wouldn't have been available to help our friend. I'm sure that will at least cheer her up. I was hoping..."
She nodded, her mobcap bobbing. "Of course, come with me to the kitchen."
There, she moved the kettle near the fire to start to boil it in preparation for Raven's care. That done, she hurried to the cupboard and took down a large jar from a high shelf. "Does she 'ave a fever as well?" she asked.
"Not when I left home. I believe it is just one of her usual headaches, but if you could ease her pain, I would be most grateful."
Granny reached out and patted his hand. "Ye are a good husband." She withdrew a small bottle and filled it with coarsely ground powder. "Take this. As before, put two large pinches into a cup of water and 'ave her drink it right down. She will start to feel better shortly. If need be, ye can give 'er another dose in four hours. If the pain is not completely gone after 'er second dose, then ye must come and take me to 'er."
Whitmore accepted the bottle. "Thank you, but I hope you will come for a visit anyway. I know how much my wife enjoys your visits."
"No more than I do, I assure ye. Now off with ye, I must tend to my new patient."
Granny gathered what she would need to clean the wound with quick efficiency. The creeping red streaks were an indication that urgency was called for.
She entered the room, her arms loaded with supplies. Setting them down on the bedside table, she said a quick prayer and pulled the covers back and lifted the cloth. "Ye have a nasty wound 'ere young man." She pressed against the angry red flesh and a white putrid discharge oozed from the ragged hole. "I'll do me best to save yer life, but it will be up to God Almighty to make the final decision."
To her surprise, she heard Raven answer in a soft, but surprisingly strong voice. "I will live. Do what you must."
"This will be painful. I 'ave a tonic that will help with the pain." She reached for a cup, but he stopped her.
"I'll not need that. I promise not to move. I'll close my eyes and it will appear I'm asleep. Do not let this startle you. You do what needs to be done to tend the wound. I'll do the rest." With that, he turned his head away from her and closed his eyes.
Granny noted the even breathing and the relaxing of every muscle. She felt his pulse, then rose to lean over him and place an ear to his chest. Satisfied, she began the job of cleaning the wound.
As she had expected from Dawn's story, the wound was from a gunshot. She slipped two fingers into the wound as she watched his face. He was an extremely large man. If he became combative, she would not be able to do what needed to be done. True to his word, he didn't move or utter a sound.
The slug was wedged against the crest of his hipbone. Lucky for him, it was easy to remove and no organs had been injured, though he lost a lot of blood. One hour after she began, Granny secured the final bandage in place.
The welcomed scent of Grandpa's tobacco reached her and she turned.
He wrinkled his nose at the strong odor of burnt herbs and seared flesh. "How is yer patient? I think we need to air out the room a bit." He walked to the window and opened it a crack.
She smiled at her husband. '"He’ll live," she announced proudly. In a deeper tone she added, "Don't leave that window open. I don't want 'im catchin' a chill."
"Ye sound sure he'll survive. 'E don't look good, and by the looks of that wash pan an' that slug, 'twas a nasty job." He closed the window and moved toward the bed to peer down at Raven. "I thought 'e didn't look well when I saw him and Dawn at the stables."
Granny wiped her hands on a cloth as she studied her patient. "I 'ave a potion I need him to drink. It will help 'im gain his strength, but he's in some sort of trance. I don't know 'ow to rouse him."
"You have but to speak to me." Raven opened his eyes and turned his head in her direction. "I'll drink your potion."
Granny quickly recovered from the surprise of hearing him speak and pressed the cup to his lips. He drank the mixture without stopping. When he finished, he once again closed his eyes.
Granny turned to Grandpa. She wondered at the fearful look on her man's face. What made him so serious now that the young man's condition has improved? "Come, dear." She gripped his hand. "We must let 'im rest." She rose and motioned her husband to silence as she ushered him from the room and shut the door.
With a flicker of anxiety in his eyes, her husband spoke hesitantly, "I have something to tell you, Mother."
Granny placed a finger to her lips and pulled him into the kitchen. She would not allow him to speak before he was seated at the table. She pushed him into a chair. All their serious discussions took place at the kitchen table. She poured them each a cup of tea, and with a growing sense of dread, sat across from Grandpa. Holding her cup tightly, she looked into her mate's troubled eyes and said in a small voice, "I take it the news is not good bout Dawn."
A shadow of regret crossed his face. "I've asked all 'bout the village. No one 'as seen 'er." As if unable to look at the sadness in his mate's face, he lowered his gaze to the table.
"Oh, dear." Granny raised her cup to her lips, but was unable to take a sip as she sobbed softly. "The lad mustn't know 'bout this development. He needs time and peace to 'heal."
"What are we goin' ta do 'bout Dawn?" He brushed a hand across his face as if to wipe away the knowledge of the young woman's disappearance.
Granny shrugged and shook her head. "What can we do? Just see to it that Raven gets well." She managed a small sip. Setting the cup gently on the table she mumbled softly, "He'll find 'er."
Her husband leaned forward, worry shadowing his face. "What if somethin' horrible 'as happened to her?"
Grandma slapped the table in frustration. "There is nothing' we can do." She buried her face in her hands and wept.
Grandpa pushed away from the table and hobbled to her side where he wrapped a comforting arm about his wife. "I know ye struck up a likens' for the girl. I'm sorry to 'ave been so unfeelin'." He gently patted the back of her head as
she sobbed into his shoulder. "You're right. When Raven is better, 'e'll find her. She'll be just fine, Mother. You'll see."
Chapter Twenty
The fading light cast glimmering patches upon the forest floor as unseen creatures rustled about in the underbrush. Dawn's muscles screamed from the strain of the heavy iron collar about her neck. As pain radiated outward from the collar. A deep ache pressed its way through her shoulders as well as upward to pound in her temples. She pulled her knees up to prop her elbows on them in the hope of relieving the weight on her shoulders.
Denied the warmth of the fire, she sat tethered in the shadow's chill. She fixed her gaze on one of her captors as he fidgeted. Dawn was not surprised to once again see the scrawny orange-haired highwayman she and Raven had dubbed Fox. She now knew his true name. Frank.
Frank glanced at her, then huddled closer to the fire. He tossed a log into the blaze.
The damp evening air pressing against her anger-heated cheeks. If the villains' intent was to cause her discomfort by denying her heat from the fire, they had failed. Their attempts to bring her to submission were futile. Pride in her heritage reminded her that these simple-minded men knew nothing of the strengths of her people. She endured more discomfort than this while hunting for winter game back home.
Frank bristled and she watched with inner satisfaction. He turned to her, his face a glowering mask of rage. She baited him, watching his every move. He jumped to the lure as readily as a hungry trout.
His thin lips drew back in a threatening sneer. "Who d' ye think yer staring at, missy?"
Dawn's only response was her own silent stare. The same stare a snake might use to watch a mouse he’d chosen for dinner.
"Stop that, you witch!" Frank jumped to his feet. "I'll not 'ave ye watchin' me like that!"
Her only response was the slight upward tilt of one corner of her mouth. Da had taught her well.
Frank's partner, saddling his horse a few paces away, paused and turned to Frank. "Settle down, you bloody dolt. What's the matter with ye? She be just a skirt. Leave 'er be."
Frank's nostrils flared with fury. "That's easy for you to say,Lionel. It ain't you she be puttin' tha evil eye on." Taking a deepbreath, he struggled as if to rein in his emotions. Apparently confident, he once again controlled his rage and strutted toward her...but not too close. He mocked her as he taunted, "Ye like that little trinket 'bout yer neck, eh?" He thumped a thumb to his chest,"That was my idea. Ain't no way ye can get out o' that. And ain't no reason for no one ta get close enough for ye to get 'yer hands on them.
Dawn let her gaze travel the length of him, then she turned her attention to the small mound she had created with tiny pebbles.
Frank took a small step forward. "What 're ye doing?"
Lionel tugged impatiently at his shoulder. "I said leave 'er be. If she can content 'erself by playing in the dirt, then let 'er. Saddle up, we wasted enough time hereabouts."
"Ye mean ta say we be leavin' in tha dark?" Frank responded in a shrill tone, then cleared his throat awkwardly as he cast a hate-filled glower in Dawn's direction.
Lionel shoved him toward his mount. "That's right, we'll rest tomorrow evenin' and then enter London and head for the docks under cover of tha night."
"It ain't safe ta travel at night," Frank grumbled as he saddled up. When that task was completed, he pulled a key from his pocket. He led his horse over to a large tree. Sliding the key into the lock holding the heavy chain about the tree trunk, he quickly removed the chain and secured it to his saddle.
Just as Dawn placed the last stone, he swung up in the saddle and, with a cruel jerk, pulled Dawn along for a short distance.
Dawn struggled as she was dragged along. As soon as she gained her footing, she yanked the chain and snarled like a captured animal.
Frank laughed with injurious pleasure.
A twinge of apprehension tugged at Dawn's heart as she asked, "Why are we going to London?"
"There's goin' ta be another warehouse fire. Only this time, there'll be two victims," he replied sardonically.
At Dawn's confused stare, he hooted like a mad man. The sound of his high-pitched guffaw grated on her ears and prickles of foreboding snaked along her skin.
"Tha chief has paid us well to get you and that bloke o’ yours back to London and into a particular old warehouse."
Understanding dropped heavily in her belly. She spun and lunged toward the campsite, but the chain about her neck prevented her from reaching her goal. Fueled by her desperation, she yanked on the chain with enough force to topple her antagonist from his saddle, but he had already secured the chain. His evil merriment sounded all about her.
"Oh no ye don't. We want yer rescuer ta find our little campsite. We want 'im to follow, don't you see? That's why we can't rest long. I'm sure he knows by now you're gone. The Magistrate served up 'is supper just 'bout an hour ago, I'd say. 'Ow long do ye think it will take 'im to realize the Magistrate forgot to lock the door?"
Frank laughed again. Dawn gazed back at the small pile of pebbles that would direct Raven to London.
Chapter Twenty-one
The cup rattled in the saucer as Sara handed it to Lady Montgomery. Their eyes met briefly before Sara nervously glanced away. The tension bore down heavily on the occupants of the small parlor of the Montgomery home.
Sara poured another cup of tea and handed it to Lady Gaylord, who squeezed her hand reassuringly as she accepted the tea. William rolled his small spheres within his hand. She focused on the gentle chiming they produced. The sounds, so annoying to her employers, soothed her ragged nerves.
Lady Montgomery stood, "Please, Sara, sit down. I'll serve the tea.
"There will be none of that. You are ill, and I am the servant," Sara responded, quickly to protect her employer.
"Sara is right, Grams. If you must be present, then at least sit down and try not to become overly distressed."
Lady Montgomery paced, wringing her hands as she said, "But I am distressed, Willie. We are all distressed."
William came over and took her by the arm and indicated that she sit. The look on his face left no room for argument.
"Would you like a cup, milord?" Sara asked quietly.
"No thank you, Sara. Grams is right." He placed one hand to her elbow as he indicated the sofa. "Sit down and rest yourself. I assure you, I am quite capable of serving tea."
Sara was too shocked to move.
"Captain Brown," William asked the visitor, "Tea?"
Captain Brown bristled in aggravation. "This is not a tea party, young man."
Sara saw William stiffen. He took a breath, then said, "No it's not, but there is no need to upset my grandmothers. You came here insisting something is amiss and that Dawn is missing. I tell you she is with Raven, and they should be arriving any moment."
"Listen to me, you young whippersnapper." Brown strode to William and took him by the arm and led him a few paces away from the women.
Sara knew she should excuse herself, but fear for Dawn kept her rooted to the spot. Lady Montgomery patted her arm. When Sara turned her way, she saw that the two ladies had made room for her between them on the sofa. She sank down thankfully. Each lady took one of her hands, and the three sat huddled as they listened to the heated conversation taking place.
"I tell you, one of my men is dead. He was found near tha docks with his throat cut from ear ta ear." Brown slid a thumb across his throat to better dramatize his statement.
William put a hand to Captain Brown's elbow and led him further away from the ladies. "That sort of thing happens often on the docks. No reason to think that incident is in any way connected to Dawn or Raven."
Captain Brown pulled his elbow free of William's grip as he continued. " Becker returned to me to report Raven and Dawn were accosted by two highwaymen."
"Yes, yes." William interrupted. "I heard your story the first time. Raven was believed injured, but Little Jack returned the next day to confirm they arrived in Dunmere a
nd Raven appeared well and whole."
Captain Brown bristled in frustration. "Do you not understand, man? My first mate, Jeremy Thorton sent Little Jack back to inform me that Raven and Dawn were expected to purchase some herb from a local herbalist and then return home."
William shrugged, "Well, there you have it then. Raven and Dawn are fine and on their way home. What you say corroborates my own latest update. Just yesterday, my good friend, Sir Nicolas Blake arrived to let us know the very same thing. He conversed with Raven not three days before and was told the same story. I do not understand your concern, and I do not appreciate you coming into my home frightening my grandmothers and upsetting the whole household with this ranting."
Brown stood chest to belly with the taller, younger man. "I wasn't finished speaking, young man, and where I come from such rudeness is not tolerated."
Sara popped up from the divan to be quickly hauled down by the grandmothers. She didn't understand why William hid his own concern. Yesterday, after his friend's departure, he sent one of the stable staff to Dunmere to look for Raven and Dawn.
William cast a worried glance toward his grandmothers and stepped back. "Then please, Captain Brown. Finish your story."
"As I was saying, my man Jeremy Thorton, remained on their trail. He's not returned."
"Well, neither has Raven or Dawn. If Mr. Thorton is on their trail, wouldn't he return when they do?"
Brown emitted a low growl. "Let's see if that fancy, high society brain of yours can figure this out. How many days ago did this Nicolas fellow see Raven and Dawn?"
William looked mildly annoyed, but answered, "Four." The soft chiming of his Baoding Balls flowed around the word. Sara wondered if he knew he was toying with them.
"Ah, four days. And your friend, what was his method of travel?"
"Coach. I really don't see what you're getting at, Brown." William spun the orbs a bit faster in his hand until the chiming became a continuous whir.
"Of course you don't. But keep trying. How were Raven and Dawn traveling?"
"Raven insisted they leave London by carriage, and then change and continue on horseback." He paused, looked at the Baoding Balls as if he had only just now realized he held them, and then slipped them into his pocket.
