The Highwayman's Footsteps (19 page)

The countryside was bleak and wild, some slopes thinly covered with snow, others mottled with dull shades of browns and greys, where trees or rocks or sheltered areas protruded through the wintry landscape. Lonely groups of trees dotted the glowering hillsides. Lines of low stone walls dipped and wove along the contours like wrinkles, but most was open space, scarred by patches of rock or dead vegetation. Where there was little snow, sheep grazed on coarse grass between clumps of gorse, their thick coats whipped by the wind. Tracks led from place to place, and in the crooked elbows of hills there rushed fast streams and gushing waterfalls.

My red coat would be visible for miles, if anyone should care to look.

I wondered where Henry and Bess were now. Bess was to take Henry to where he would catch the stagecoach west and then north. From there, he was on his own, as safe as we could make him from the redcoats' clutches. As I pondered this, I could not stop myself thinking of my own home between Hexham and Durham. I wondered what my father and mother thought of me now. Or what they would say if they could see me. If they knew that I was helping a deserter?

Would they believe that I could be risking my life for another? In the name of justice? I thought not.

A shot! Another! I twisted in my saddle. Redcoats! Horsemen riding towards me from some trees. Other men kneeling and firing. I cursed inwardly. How could I have been so foolish? They must have been waiting!

I dug my heels sharply into Sapphire's sides and she began to gallop. I felt her fear, but fear is no bad thing when a horse must summon extra strength and speed. We left the track and headed diagonally uphill. I kept a light touch on the reins – she needed to use her own judgement to avoid stumbling on the uneven ground.

I snatched a glance behind me. Four mounted men were following me. I could see their swords glinting as they slapped against their horses' sides. Some hundred yards distant, perhaps less.

Two more shots rang out. Why did they fire when I was out of their range? I had left the kneeling soldiers far behind by now, so why did shots still ring out? And then I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the glint of steel in the distance, flashes of red jackets, the sparks of flames from a shepherd's hut. Instinctively, I ducked, offering the smallest target possible, and panic rushed once again through my body. We had not foreseen this! That so many soldiers would chase Henry Parish, that they would split into groups and hunt him down, relentlessly. And all for some flour!

Full of fear now – though mostly fury at the injustice of it – I urged Sapphire onwards. Up the hillside. The hill curved round and I could not be sure what direction I was now taking. Perhaps I was riding towards Bess's cottage? I must not do that. I veered slightly.

We leapt a stream, scrambling up the bank. A little further on, we flew over a low stone wall. Sapphire stumbled as she landed, and I almost fell, sliding round her shoulder. With great effort, I righted myself, thanking the well-made saddle that let me grip it without slipping.

I knew in my heart that the stories of a ghostly highwayman were just that – stories, but I confess I prayed that, if there were anything in the stories, Bess's father would look kindly on me now. Or that any spirits of the place might look with favour on a boy who only did what he thought to be right.

How alone I felt on those moors! How helpless! I could not know where the soldiers were now. I knew that the horsemen still pursued me – I could hear the thunder of hoofs, the clanking of metal, the occasional shout. But were more soldiers awaiting me further on?

If I could only find a place to hide and throw off my red jacket, I might escape. If I could only summon some extra speed, mayhap I could round a corner, or find some trees, or take a turning which they did not see. The soldiers' horses were built for strength, not speed – I could perchance outpace them.

Again, I pushed Sapphire on, pressing her hard with my legs. I spoke to her, praising her, urging her, asking everything of her. My fingers gripped her mane tightly and I could smell her rich scent as she galloped, giving every bit of her strength.

But how long could she keep this up? Sweat flecked her shoulders and her breathing was heavy now, laboured and gasping.

I could hear a bugle in the distance. I did not know what it meant. Were they coming from another direction? I tried to look around, searching for movement, looking for the tell-tale red splashes of their jackets. But in the snatched moment I could tell nothing useful. Everything was blurred, like raindrops scattering across a window in a storm.

We were approaching a hedge. Knowing not what was on the other side, I had no choice – we must jump. I held my breath, and squeezed shut my eyes, as we rose into the air, flying over the bare winter branches. Sapphire stumbled, catching her foot on something in the hedge. It was only a slight stumble, but it was enough – with horror, I felt myself spinning helplessly in the air, flying, falling, and landing on my back with a thump that shook the breath from my body. Desperately, I rolled over, over and over, back towards the hedge: when the other horses jumped, I had no wish to be beneath their pounding feet.

My arms clasped over my head, my eyes screwed shut, my body tensing for the pain, I lay there, waiting. A small pat of melting snow slid off a branch and dropped on the back of my neck.

Still I waited. Perhaps they would not see me? Perhaps they would charge on before they even knew I was there? Sapphire had galloped onwards. Or so I thought.

But after some few moments, when I dared look up from my position face down in the wetness, I saw her standing not far off, holding her front leg awkwardly. With fear, I saw how her fetlock swelled already and her head hung down in pain.

Poor Sapphire would be no help to me now.

N
othing could save me. I could only wait for the redcoats to come. When they discovered that I was not Henry Parish, I might expect no mercy. I clenched my fists and breathed the mud and snow beneath my face. The wetness was seeping into my clothes.

Moments passed and stretched into a time I could not measure. And still I could hear no approaching hoofbeats. Nothing except the haunting sounds of that bugle. And, when I listened more carefully, the distant rattle of a drummer. What was happening?

After a few moments more, I rolled over and began to get to my feet. Buzzards wheeled overhead, floating, waiting.

With caution, I peered over the hedge. No horsemen approached. But further away, two groups of men, redcoats, were riding towards each other. One group, I guessed from its direction, was the same one that had been pursuing me. I saw other men, on foot, at various points along the brow of a hill, to the left.

I was looking almost south – this much I could tell by the pale glow of the sun behind the clouds a little to my left. To the west, thick mist hung mysteriously low, hiding the landscape. One group of riders came from there. From the direction Bess and Henry had taken.

Sapphire stood behind me, blowing vapour into the air. I went to her and stroked her nose. Neither one of us could know more than the other what was about to happen.

And then I simply stood behind the hedge. Uncertain what else to do, I watched and waited. I knew not what to think – whether to fear or to be relieved, whether danger was past or only waiting for me. My heartbeat settled, my body became calm, but I still could not know what to do.

Now the two groups of horsemen, together, had wheeled around and were galloping to the west.

And then … no! I strained my eyes, trying to see as clearly as I might. Two figures on horseback, coming slowly from that same direction. One in a red coat, the other in some darker colour. But … surely it could not be? I narrowed my eyes further. It was! It was Bess. But if this was Bess, where then was Henry? And why was she here? With a redcoat riding beside her? Why was she riding into danger?

The redcoat with her did not seem to hold her prisoner. She appeared to ride slightly ahead of him.

She was riding towards the mounted soldiers. Her horse was no more than trotting, as though she was in no hurry. I could not say if the men she approached were those who had entered her house so roughly and treated her with such contempt, but if they were, might they not recognize her?

Fear came rushing back now, and I wished that Sapphire was not lame. But what could I have done even had she been sound?

The horsemen slowed and stopped when they came to Bess and the other rider, who both stopped too. Some conversation took place and I saw Bess point in the direction from which she had come. I did not understand. That must be where Henry was. Why was she pointing in his direction?

My jaw was clenched tight as a poacher's trap as I waited for her to walk on, for them to let her pass. Several times, I thought I saw them shift, moving to let her through, but each time, she moved not onwards and I could only hope and pray.

When, at last, they parted and she walked through alone, I found that my fingernails had dug so hard into my palms that blood formed in crescent shapes. My knuckles were white.

I watched her closely, still watched them too, for any sign of trouble, of more danger. But she seemed only to walk on as though nothing had happened. They, meanwhile, galloped away in the direction she had indicated.

I wished I could call out to her. I must speak to her, must ask what had happened. Where was Henry and why had our plan gone so awry? And what should we do now?

The mournful sound of the bugle came again, and I saw the men on foot reassemble. I saw them stand and wait. What were they waiting for?

Bess was now moving across the hillside to my left, riding east. I watched her stop. She looked back at the disappearing riders, glanced casually at the soldiers, appearing to have no fear. What was in her mind? I surmised that she knew they did not want her. To them, she was just a passing lad, adequately well-dressed and mounted on a good horse with a high-quality saddle. They did not know she was in fact a young woman, that tumbling black hair was coiled beneath her tricorne hat. How could they know?

But no matter how I tried to read her mind, I could not know why she was there.

I watched her begin to move again, walking, sometimes trotting, but not appearing to hurry. She parted from the track and veered further to her left, until, eventually, she was riding up the hill, almost towards where I was. Did she know I was there?

I looked down the hillside. Another bugle call trailed through the air like music from a watery grave. I had been hunting, of course, many times: the bugle calls brought this to my mind, though they were not the same. But I knew they must be telling the soldiers something. None of the men within my sight moved; they stood and waited – for what, I did not know.

Could I risk moving from the hedge? The soldiers did not seem interested now in the boy in the red coat whom they had chased. It seemed they knew that I was not Henry Parish, the deserter and thief. Our plan had failed.

Only then did I think of removing the red jacket and my soldier's hat. With my foot, I scraped a shallow hole in the wet earth beneath the hedge, and pressed the garments as flat as I could into the shallow dip, covering them with sticks and dead leaves. No longer was I Henry Parish. Although I confess to feeling some relief, I believe there was more sadness and anger.

Now, I could only hope that, somehow, they would not catch Henry. Could I dare hope for so much?

Bess was out of sight, having disappeared behind a ridge. I wanted her with me now. I did not wish to lose sight of the soldiers; nor did I wish to leave Sapphire; but I must find Bess, to discover what was happening and for what reason. I moved along the line of the hedge, towards the very brow of the hill. Surely the soldiers would not see me here, even should they look. And if they saw me, who was I? Just a lad, a shepherd perhaps? In the distance, I could be anyone, but not Henry Parish, not without my red coat.

I hurried now towards the brow. And there was Bess, riding towards me, cantering now. She was out of breath, her eyes blazing, her face red with exertion.

“Will! Thank goodness I have found you! Our plan failed!” Her voice trembled. She pulled Merlin to a halt beside me and jumped down. She could see Sapphire some way away beside the hedge, and we went in that direction.

“What happened?” I asked. “Why did the soldiers stop pursuing me? I saw you ride…”

She was staring down the hill as she answered. I looked but nothing had changed – still the men waited in their groups. “The road was blocked.” She shook her head in anger and frustration. “There had been a flood after the melting snow and then a landslide, making the valley impassable. I had to take a different route. When we could not cross the river, Henry refused to go on. He said he would not put me in danger. I said I did it not for him but for his mother and sister … but he would not listen. He burned with fervour. You can scarce imagine his appearance. He said that he would never reach his mother and sister and that even if he did, how could a few bags of flour help? His mother and sister might even find themselves in danger. And so…” she paused, looking at me now.

“Yes?” I said, when she did not continue.

“And so, I made Henry Parish a promise.”

I was filled with dread. What had she promised?

“I told him that if something happened to him, we would help his mother and sister. And that we would avenge him.” I imagined that that part would not have been difficult for Bess to promise. Besides, I felt almost as much hatred for the redcoats now as she did.

But, as for helping the boy's family, why should I wish to? Why should I put myself in danger for them? And yet these thoughts disappeared almost as quickly as they had come – I was not the same as I had been only a few days ago. Much had happened since then. If helping Henry Parish's poor family was what I must do, where my honour led me, then that was the course I must take.