Son of Heaven (7 page)

There they paused for breath. Ahead of them the old road stretched off in a straight line across the ancient heath, its surface badly cracked, covered in a thick layer of weed, wild flowers and
bracken. Yet the line of it was still discernible, running like a long, thin scar across the landscape.

They came out here from time to time and tried to clear it, making it a day out for the surrounding villages – a picnic of sorts – but their efforts never lasted long. In a week or
two it would return, no matter how thorough they’d been. Yet at least it was passable. Like much else about their lives, they made do with things as they were, and this was one of them.

As their party formed up on the road, so Jake and Tom, Eddie and Frank went ahead, using long-handled scythes to cut a way through where the path was overgrown.

Slowly they made their way, while just as slowly the sun climbed the sky, coming up over Studland Bay, to their right as they laboured.

‘’S gettin’ warm,’ Eddie murmured, pausing from his task to wipe his neck. ‘I thought it would be a lot colder than this.’

Tom laughed. ‘Just think of the pint that’s awaiting you…’

‘And a good fry up,’ Frank added, grinning and looking about him. ‘Now set to, lads, else we’ll be here all bloody day!’

They set to work once more, hacking away at whatever lay in their path, and slowly they progressed, the wagons and dog sleds edging their way closer and closer to their first stop. Just over an
hour later, covered in sweat from their exertions, they stepped out onto the cleared section, just across the river from the old town.

‘There’s got to be an easier way,’ Frank Goodman said, wiping his brow with his handkerchief.

‘If there is I don’t know it,’ Tom answered. ‘But I do know this. It’s spared us a lot of grief over the years. Just as it’s hard for us to get out, so
it’s just as hard for roaming bands to get in.’

Jake looked away. Maybe that was true, but it was far from perfect. They’d lost many a good man to raiders over the years. Yes, and women and children too. But things were far worse
elsewhere.

‘Come on,’ he said, looking to the others. ‘Let’s go and freshen up. I don’t know about you, but I’ve a thirst on me could kill a man.’

Wareham lay on the far side of the river, the back walls of its southernmost houses right up against the water’s edge. In ancient days it had been a walled town, built
by Saxon kings, and its street plan remained unaltered from those times. Like the Isle of Purbeck of which it was a part, it was a place of great history. Owing to its geographical position,
however, it had long been a town in decline. Now it was a total backwater, a place one passed through on the way east. Even so, it had its compensations, among them the finest inn in the
locality.

The Quay Inn was on the right as you entered the town, just past the bridge, its long terrace overlooking the river. As they pulled up in the courtyard, two of the tavern keeper’s sons
came out, greeting them by name and asking them what their fancy was.

While the others ordered breakfast, Tom and Jake went inside to see the landlord.

Jack Hamilton was a big, cheery man, in his sixties now, but brimming with good health. He had been landlord of the Quay Inn for almost thirty years. When the Collapse had happened, he had
helped man Wareham’s defences against the bands of murderers and thieves that had plagued the land back then. Now that things were more peaceful, however, he indulged in what he called his
‘other favourite sport’ – that of talking.

But there was a purpose to their talk that morning. Jack wanted something from market, and he was prepared to pay handsomely for it.

‘I dunno…’ Tom said, feeling ill at ease with the request. ‘Goods are one thing, Jack. But this…’

‘Tom… you of all men must surely know… and you, Jake… A man needs a wife. And where in this godforsaken town am I likely to get one? No. I needs to get one where
one’s available, and where’s that if not Dorchester?’

‘But Jack… what if I chose the wrong girl for you? What if—?’

Jack cut in. ‘I won’t hear it. I know you’ve the eye for it. Your Mary now… and you, Jake… your Annie, bless ’er soul… You men knows a good woman
when you sees her.’

‘Maybe,’ Jake said, sharing Tom’s unease, ‘but why not go yourself? Or come along with us. I mean, if that’s what you want…’

‘Oh no,’ Jack said, frowning now, troubled by the suggestion. ‘Me? Why I’d just choose the first one they showed me, and probably pay twice the price she were worth.
No… I need someone who knows how to haggle. Who can get me a good, fresh girl... an
unspoiled
girl, if you knows what I mean. Someone as’d be good at cleaning out rooms and
serving the odd pint now and then.’

Tom looked to Jake and shrugged.

‘All right,’ Jake said, relenting. ‘But if we don’t see anyone we think is suitable, then we’re not to blame, right? And we’re not bringing back anyone as
doesn’t want to come, you understand? You’re not buying a servant, Jack Hamilton, nor a slave. You’re buying a wife, okay? Someone you’ll respect.’

The big man grinned. ‘Now there’s friends for you! I’ll bring you the cash straight away. But you relax now and have a good meal and a refreshing pint. It’s on me, my
lads. It’s my pleasure.’ And he turned away and was gone.

Tom looked to Jake. ‘Are you sure? I mean, what if she runs?’

‘Then we choose one who won’t. Who wants to settle. Who’ll see this as a chance for a good life.’

‘And how are we gonna know that? What if she lies to us?’

‘We’ll know.’

Tom stared at him a moment longer.

‘
What?
’

‘I was just thinking. I mean, while we’re sorting old Jack out…’

Jake sighed. ‘I told you last night. I’m not interested.’

‘No?’

But Jake could see Tom was teasing him again. He grinned. ‘Come on. I’m hungry.’

‘You’re a man in need.’

Yes
, he thought, but he had to look away, lest his best friend saw through him and caught the vaguest shadow of his thoughts.

They were sat at the long table by the window when Eddie, who’d been put on guard duty, put his head round the door.

‘Tom… Jake… we’ve a couple of strangers snooping about…’

They were up at once, every last one of them, grabbing guns and piling out the door. The wagons were where they’d left them, beside the sleds in the middle of the yard, the horses tied at
the trough nearby. The dogs were sprawled out beneath the wagons, fed now and resting.

‘Where?’ Tom asked, looking about him.

‘They must’a gone,’ Eddie answered. ‘They must’a seen me go in.’

Tom climbed the steps up to the roadway and looked about him. Jake joined him there, just in time to see two men slip down a side street, clearly in a hurry. Tom looked to him.

‘Fancy a look?’

Jake nodded.

Tom turned, looking to the others. ‘Finish off then get the animals in harness again. We’re going to set out in twenty minutes. Meantime, Jake and I’ll go check those two
out.’

‘You sure?’ Ted Gifford asked, looking concerned. ‘What if they’re bad ’uns?’

‘We’re going to have a look, that’s all,’ Jake said. ‘Check them out. Make sure they’re not a threat.’

‘They’re not local,’ Eddie said, gravely. ‘Least, I didn’t recognize them.’

‘But they were sizing us up, eh?’

‘They seemed real curious.’

Tom looked to Jake. ‘Ready?’

‘Sure. Lead on.’

Jake took the safety off his rifle then followed Tom.

They went quickly, looking this way and that, careful not to let anything escape them. Locals scattered as they came near, ducking into shops or down side roads. As they came to the street the
two had disappeared down, they stopped.

‘Cover me,’ Tom said. ‘I’m going to cross over. See if I can see anything.’

Jake raised his gun, and as Tom ran across, he leaned round the corner, aiming at whatever he could see.

The street was empty.

Jake looked to Tom, who stood there in the open, out in the middle of the street.

Well?
he mouthed.

Tom gestured for him to step out alongside him. Jake quickly went across.

‘The Antelope?’

Tom nodded. At the bottom of the street was another inn. The Antelope. They knew the landlord. He was a bit of a braggart and a bully. Not only that, but his beer was sour.

‘What if they come out to face us?’

‘Then we run like fuck.’

Jake grinned. ‘You sure you wanna do this?’

‘I don’t want the bastards pursuing us all the way to Dorchester. I wanna know who they are and what their intentions are.’

Only right then they heard noises from the road behind the inn; the sound of booted feet running away. Briefly they saw movement at the end of the street as a dozen or more men took off. Jake
made to follow them, but Tom reached out and took his arm, holding him back.

‘Well… now we know. They’re not friends.’ He looked to Jake, concerned. ‘We’d better get going straight away. Try and keep ahead of those fuckers.’

‘Right,’ Jake said. ‘But one thing first. We go speak to the landlord. Find out what he knows. How many of them there were, and what they looked like.’

‘You think he’ll tell us?’

‘I’ll make him tell us.’

Tom considered that a moment, then nodded. ‘Okay, let’s go speak to him. But Jake…’

‘Yes?’

‘Don’t get angry with the man. I don’t want to fight him unless I have to.’

Eddie and Ted were waiting for them at the top of the steps when they came back. They looked anxious.

‘Well?’ Ted asked. ‘What do we know?’

‘There’s a dozen of them, maybe more,’ Tom answered, looking beyond the two on the steps to the others. ‘Landlord of the Antelope says they’re just traders, but how
many traders do you know who travel that light? No. They’re raiders. And they’re headed the same way as us. So we need to stay vigilant. And we need to stay armed at all times. You see
one of the fuckers you don’t ask him any questions, you just blow his fucking head off, got me?’

‘I’ll be glad to,’ Frank Goodman said. ‘Be a
real
pleasure.’ Which made the rest of them laugh.

‘Good,’ Tom said. ‘Then let’s move on.’

Peter stood at the top of the tower, the highest point of the ruins, leaning out over the edge, looking out across country to the north-west. Much as he liked being closer to
Meg and her sisters, he hated it when his dad was away. Hated how it made him feel, like everything was suddenly much more fragile. He didn’t like that stomach-wrenching sense of uncertainty
it gave him, that anxiety he carried with him every waking moment; the fear that he would never see his dad again. It was awful, and nothing Meg could say or do would make it go away. But then Meg
didn’t understand. She hadn’t lost someone the way he’d lost someone. She didn’t realize just how brittle it all was.

He wished Jake had let him go with him. At least then he’d have known what was happening.

‘Peeee-ter… Peeeeeee-ter…’

He turned, looking down the bisected slope of the ruined castle. It was Beth, calling him in for lunch.

‘Coming!’

He took one last, fearful look to the north, then ran quickly down the cracked and uneven steps, leaping the gaps.

For a moment he wondered what it must have been like, back in the old days, before things fell apart. His dad had told him once about how some of the people back then had had tiny communicators,
specially-designed ‘chips’ which were like tiny slivers of silvered metal, sewn into their heads so they could speak to other people as and when they liked. He had had one himself, in
fact, only he’d had it removed years back, long before Peter was born. He still had the scar, a neat little purple line on his neck beneath his right ear, but that was all.

If they’d had them now he could have spoken to Jake and found out what he was doing and how he’d been feeling. Only that was just wishful thinking. When it all collapsed, all of that
had gone with it. All of the clever stuff.

Beth was waiting by the gate to the castle’s lower field.

‘You all right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Just that you have this look sometimes…’

Beth was the Hubbards’ second daughter. Seventeen now, she looked every bit a woman. In some ways she was much prettier than Meg, but she was more of a big sister to him than anything
else.

‘Do I?’

‘Yeah. Like you’re sad.
Are
you sad?’

None of your business
, he wanted to say, only that would have been rude. Besides, she was only being concerned.

‘Where’s Meg?’

‘Helping Mum.’

Beth began walking down the slope. He followed, two or three paces behind, trailing her.

She turned, looking to him again. ‘You’re a moody little bugger, you know that?’

‘Am I?’

‘See,’ she said, turning to him and laughing. ‘You need to relax a bit. Loosen up.’

He could hear her mother, Mary, in the way she said it. Only wasn’t that the way of it? Didn’t he catch himself, sometimes, sounding like his dad?

‘Sorry,’ he said, looking down, ashamed suddenly of being so stupid. So moody. Of course his dad would come back. Didn’t he always?

Beth looked to him again and smiled. ‘I thought we might play a game tonight. Scrabble, maybe. Or Monopoly. Or… well… you can choose.’

He looked to her and grinned. ‘Beth?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You’d make a good sister-in-law.’

‘Yeah?’ And then she saw what he meant and her eyes widened a little. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah… Don’t tell Meg, but I’ve asked my dad to get a ring… you know, from the market.’

‘Oh, Pete-ie…’ She came over and, holding his face, gave him a kiss. ‘You darling boy. Do Mum and Dad know?’

Peter looked down, blushing. ‘Not yet. I was going to ask them… when the men got back.’

They had come to the lower gate by now. He slowed, then looked to her again.

‘We’re not too young, d’you think?’

But Beth was smiling broadly now. ‘Not if you’re sure. Not if you’re absolutely sure.’

He thought about that a moment, then smiled. ‘I’m sure.’

Out on the road again, heading west, they made good time. The route had been pretty much empty, with no sign of the strangers, but now, some three or four hundred yards ahead,
the trees to either side pressed in close to the old cracked surface. From here on, for a mile or so, they would be
inside
the wood.