As plague rampaged mercilessly across London, people became ever more desperate. They'd looked on as residents of entire streets toppled like lines of dominoes. From good health to death in days, there was no knowing when it might come or which family would next be tossed like refuse into the midnight carts. The future had gone, only the present remained. Black Death followed a footstep behind everyone, good or bad, rich or poor, it lurked around every corner and hid in the shadows of every home.
So not surprising then that any rumour of a new remedy or cure was seized upon, no matter how desperate or improbable. The Mother Lee Stone was being talked about. People were asking what it could do, and where they could find it.
One man who was especially interested in the stone was ‘Doctor’ Le Clerc. He knew that there was money to be made from it, lots of it too, and he wanted the lion's share. His enquiries led him to the hotel near Shipton’s house. He'd been told of a drunken, scruffy man who'd been boasting and flashing a beautiful red stone around the bar. Like all public houses, this one was closed by order of the Lord Mayor. Like most inns though, if you tapped on the door you would be allowed in to find business still went on, albeit with haggard patrons and a reduced range of stock.
Le Clerc sipped on his beer and looked thoughtfully at the huge man stood behind the bar. How could he ask him about this stone without giving away his true plans? This man ran a pub, sold liquor, ran gambling and who knows what else. He was a businessman and would be well placed to steal the jewel and turn it to his own profit. He’d need to use all his cunning.
'It’s a fine establishment you run here sir.'
The inn-keeper grunted and continued to rearrange bottles behind the bar.
'Very fine indeed. You know I could help you in here. Make some more money for you.' Le Clerc waited for a response. The inn-keeper said nothing.
'I am a physician, you know, much travelled and with a guaranteed cure for plague. We could be partners, you and me. I'd sell my physic in here and you'd get half of the profit. How does that sound?'
'You another one of those quacks are ya? I’m sick o’ your sort.'
'No quack sir, no quack at all. And anyway, let’s talk business.' Le Clerc placed one of his small bottles of potion on the bar. 'Whether you believe in my wonderful cure or not doesn’t really matter. A lot of people do and they’re willing to pay good money for it. On one good day alone, I can make a small fortune, two or three Guineas just standing on the street. Just think what we could do working here together!'
The inn-keeper picked up the small bottle and scrutinised it. 'This is an inn. I’m supposed to be closed down. If you go advertising me, they’ll lock me up.'
'Ah my good man, but that’s the clever bit. We don’t call you an inn. We make you a ‘Healing House’ and when all the people come in, you can sell them refreshments. Nothing wrong with that!'
'Hmmm. How many bottles of this stuff you got?'
'Don’t worry about that. I can knock up as many bottles as you like in no time at all. There’s just one problem though.'
'What’s that?'
'Well, it’s my brother. I hear he’s very sick and I need to find him first. I need to get some of my physic to him as fast as I can before he dies. Trouble is I can’t find him. Maybe you might know him?'
'What’s he look like?'
'Oh nothing special... except the stupid oaf has got some silly trinket that he thinks is going to help him.' Le Clerc laughed ironically 'A stone, a red stone of all things.' He looked hopefully at the inn-keeper who was stood scratching his head.
'Is he tall, short, fat? What colour hair? We get all sorts in ‘ere.'
'Yes, I heard he might have been here, might have even bought the silly jewel here... or won it maybe?'
'Oh no, you don’t mean Scroggs? You do, you mean Scroggs, don’t ya?' the inn-keeper threw his towel on the bar and placed his hands on his hips.
'Yes, Scroggs, you know him! That’s wonderful news!'
'Know him! That brother of yours is a no good drunken bloody scoundrel. He owes me a fortune!'
'Oh, when I said brother I meant... I treat him like my brother,' explained Le Clerc, 'I try to steer him away from his terrible mistakes, try to make him into a better man, you know. When I see him I’ll make sure he pays up.' Le Clerc sipped his beer again. 'Do you know where I might find him?'
'Humph! Well, his house is just across the street.' The inn-keeper nodded towards the window.
Le Clerc jumped to his feet.
'But he ain't there now.'
'What?'
'The last time I saw him he was in a mess. Looked like he'd been knifed. Went off with the help of a couple o' young'uns.'
Le Clerc sat back down. 'Oh dear. Do you know where he went?'
'Well, them kids came back to get their stuff. Said they were on Monnington Street, servant kids. Don’t know what number.'
Le Clerc had the information he needed. He downed the rest of his beer and jumped back to his feet. 'Well my good man thank you for your hospitality. Now I must dash to the aid of my brother.' He picked up the bottle of potion from the bar. 'When I return, we start business together!'
The inn-keeper reached forward and grabbed Le Clerc's wrist. 'You forgettin’ somethin’?'
'No, what sir? You’re hurting my wrist.' He wriggled his arm but the inn-keeper's grip was firm.
'The beer, you ain’t paid me for the beer.'
'I thought we were partners...'
The inn-keeper squeezed a little harder on the wrist and held out his other hand. 'We ain't in business together yet, mate.'
Le Clerc reluctantly placed twopence into his palm and left.
Brock was also looking for Monnington Street. Through a mixture of bloated authority, threats, evasion and small bribes made up of goodies taken from his recent abodes, he had managed to clear the roadblocks. He had cleaned himself up, dressed in fine clothes he’d found, and apart from the scars and the limp, looked rather distinguished.
Elizabeth was still sitting at the front of the house waiting for James. Brock's fine attire didn’t stop her recognising him as being the man who had taken her husband. She’d expected that at some point he might return for her and probably Mary too. Searchers were in constant demand. She had resolved that come what may, she wasn’t going to go with him. If she had to, she would shoot him. The pistol was loaded and ready to fire, she just had to get it. She scurried around the side of the house towards the kitchen door.
Brock put his face through the fence rail and called her. She ignored him. She had to get the pistol
'Elizabeth! I’m not here to take you. James sent me. He’s sick!'
Elizabeth stopped.
Brock climbed over the gate. 'I saw him this morning. He tried to come, he tried hard but he got stopped at the barricades. I promised I’d try and check on you. He was scared something had happened to you all.'
'Where is he? Is he nearby?'
'No. He’s not well, Elizabeth. He’s got fever.'
'Has... has he got the marks?'
'No, not yet. But he thinks this is the start of it. I’m sorry.' Brock placed a hand on her shoulder.
Elizabeth turned her head away.
'He said... he said I was to remind you about the apple blossom, whatever that means.'
Elizabeth felt her eyes fill.
'Said he’ll try again tomorrow, before dawn... if he still can. I’m real sorry Elizabeth.'
In the carriage house loft, Samuel stood open mouthed in horror. From below came Alice's hysterical screaming. Mary nervously stepped forward to peer over the edge.
Madadh MacDonald stood at the foot of the ladder holding Alice in his arms. She was howling in disgust at being caught by this strange, red-bearded man. 'Och, will ye shut yer mooth fer God’s sake!'
'Get off ‘er! Put 'er down!' Mary skidded down the ladder. 'You’re not slicing my little sister! You put her down right now!'
'I'll de tha' wi' pleasure!'
Madadh laughed
and gently placed Alice on the floor. She ran and hid behind her sister’s leg. Shipton pushed himself further into hiding in a corner of the loft. Cormag was stood over Mother Munro. He pulled out his dirk, the long slender dagger glinting in a shaft of sunlight. Mary gasped. Her worst fears were about to be realised. These men were every bit as bad as she'd heard. But it wasn't the old woman that Cormag cut into, rather a green under-ripe apple. He handed half to the Mother Munro and bit hard into the rest. He winced in pain.
'Och this tooth is goona kill me Madadh. Ye’ll have to rip it oot fer us.'
Madadh laughed. 'Tis joostice Cormag, fer gettin' leathered and loosin' the stoon in the first place!'
Outside, Brock and Elizabeth had heard the screaming.
'I’ll check on it.’ Brock smiled reassuringly at Elizabeth and headed across to see what the commotion was about. Ordinarily Elizabeth would have pushed him out of the way and dashed over to check on her baby. But not today. In a daze, she walked slowly back into the kitchen and sat at the table to try and digest the news she had just heard. Was this really the end for James? Was she about to be a widow, left with three children to raise alone? But then realisation dawned. How could she have been so stupid? She had to get some of the water to him! It had just cured Alice now it could do the same for her husband. All she had to do was find a way to get it to him.
Brock pushed open the carriage door to be confronted by the sight of the two kilted men, Cormag still clutching his glinting dirk. Mother Munro lay at Cormag's feet, working hard to chew an apple without the help of teeth.
'Good morning sir.' said Mother Munro. 'Would ye care fer some apple?'
Annabel Collins was pulling up at the front of the house. She too had cleared the barricades without too much trouble. Unlike Brock, she had relied solely on threats of violence and nobody was game to take on her guards. The front gates were locked to Number 28, but on her order they were lifted from their hinges and tossed aside. She rapped on the kitchen door flanked by her burly assistants. When there was no quick response she stood back and nodded to her men. They were about to remove that from its hinges too when Elizabeth opened the door an inch. Annabel nodded and the door and Elizabeth were pushed out of the way. Annabel Collins strode inside.
'Why are you here?' asked Elizabeth, backing away.
'You know why I'm here! I need my stone. Where is it? Where is that man of yours?' She prodded Elizabeth in the chest.
'James? He’s sick. I don’t know where he is. He could be… he could be dead now for all I know.'
'You’re lying!' she screeched 'You’re trying to trick me so you can keep my stone! 'She slapped Elizabeth across the face. 'I want it. And you’re going to give it to me. It’s here somewhere. Where is it?' She pulled open the cupboard doors and began to throw out crockery, jugs and cups across the floor. 'Don’t just stand there,' she screamed at her assistants 'find it!'
In the carriage house the two MacDonalds had their dirks drawn and pointed at Brock. Brock was not one to back down. He'd picked up an iron bar and was holding it ready to strike. He might not be able to get them both but he’d be damn sure to down at least one of them.
'Och put those doon boys!' ordered Mother Munro.
'Shush Mother' said Madadh 'I’ll handle this.'
'You’ll no 'shush' me young man! Noo de as your told and put them doon!'
'No ‘til he drops his.' replied Madadh.
'I said doon. Noo!' Her raised voice was piercingly shrill.
The two men looked at each other then reluctantly sheathed their blades.
'That’s better.' Her voice softened 'Noo, why don’t you introduce yourselves properly?' She reached for more fruit. 'I’m sure we’re all here fer the same thing, te get the benefits of that fine stoon. I’m sure there's a way we can all get what we need.'
Brock knew nothing of this strange stone, but sensing his situation was improving he wasn’t about to say anything to change matters. He nodded in agreement.
At Mother Munro's insistence they reluctantly shook hands.
'Ye can lose the iron bar noo.' pointed out Cormag.
Brock was reluctant to drop it. There were two of them to his one and this may yet be a trick.
'I think that would be fair, Sir' said Mother Munro. 'I won’t be able to keep these two boys on a leash forever.'
Brock allowed the bar to slip from his hand and clatter to the ground.
'Noo, why don’t you all have a wee sit doon an' ye can....'Her words were cut short by the sound of glass shattering.
Samuel ran to the door. 'Mary! There’s stuff flyin’ out the kitchen!'
'Mum!' Mary screamed and ran from the carriage house.
'I think ye’d best go tek a gander boys.' said Mother Munro
Mary burst into the kitchen and found Annabel Collins frantically throwing jars and boxes from the pantry shelves. The three men were pulling out draws, tipping out baskets and ransacking the place. Elizabeth was stood in the far corner, blood running from her nose.
'Get out Mary, run!' screamed Elizabeth.
'Grab her!' screeched Annabel Collins. 'She might have it!'
Mary bolted through the door. A court guard charged after her and straight into the path of and the MacDonalds. He stopped in his tracks, bewildered for a moment by the strange sight of the red-headed men in kilts. Brock didn’t hesitate. He swung his iron bar like a windmill and crashed it onto the guard’s head. He dropped to the ground.
'Did you catch her?' shouted Annabel, racing to the door.
'No, he didn't.' growled Brock.
Annabel's mouth dropped open. She edged back into the kitchen towards the protection of her two remaining guards. Brock and the MacDonalds followed her through the door. Elizabeth saw her chance to escape and ran towards Brock. A guard reached out and grabbed hold of her long brown hair and hauled her back. He pulled out his knife and held it to her throat.
Annabel stood close to her men. 'You three had better get out of here. I know what you want and you're not having it! The stone belongs to me. Get out, or he'll cut her throat!' Annabel pointed at her guard.
The guard looked anxiously at his mistress. He'd pulled his knife to Elizabeth's throat in panic, as a gesture, but he wasn't keen on the idea of killing the woman in cold blood.
'Aye, that's fine' said Madadh. 'Ye de tha'. Ye kill 'er.'
'You'll do no such thing!' Brock strode forward but Madadh threw out an arm to block his path.
'What?' said Annabel 'You'd have him kill a woman, just like that?'
'Aye, why no'? She's nay use te me. Kill ‘er. An' then we'll talk.' He sat on the kitchen table and ran his finger along the edge of his dirk.
Annabel hesitated. She had no qualms about killing Elizabeth, but if she did, then her hand was played; and she had no doubts what these evil Scotsmen would do to her then. She had to find another way to outwit them.
'Gentlemen, this is silly.' she said, raising her sweetest smile, 'We don't need more blood spilt. I can see your intelligent men. What say we search together? We both want the same thing. When we find it we could share it.'
'That's a fine idea' agreed Brock. 'Let her go and we'll search together.'
'I'll noo be sharin' my stoon wi' ye or anyone else. Kill 'er.' said Madadh, without looking up from his knife.
The guard exchanged nervous glances with Annabel, sweat beading on his forehead.
'Goo on man, de it.' urged Madadh.
The guard looked again to Annabel for guidance. None was forthcoming. He too realised their plight. If he killed her they would surely be dead seconds later.
Mary looked on in tears from the doorway.
Madadh laughed. 'Och, o' course we'll share wi' ye! I'm just teasin' ye lassie.'
The guard smiled with relief. It had all been a huge bluff. He lowered his knife.
The moment the blade was away from Elizabeth's throat, Cormag pounced. He plunged his dirk deep into the guard’s chest and let him drop to the floor. The oth
er guard had seen enough. He dropped his weapon and bolted for the door. Brock stood to one side and let him go.
Elizabeth checked her neck before striding up to Madadh. She pulled back her fist and punched him squarely on the nose. 'That’s for telling him to kill me.'
Madadh wiped away the blood then smiled wryly. 'Och woman, ye're alive aren't ye?'
'Will someone tell me what the bloody hell is going on?' roared Brock. 'What is this stone?'
'Mother Munro can tell you.' said Mary from the doorway.
'Who?' asked Elizabeth.
'Mother Munro.' replied Mary sheepishly. 'She’s in the carriage house. She knows all about it.'
'And what are we going to do with her?' Brock nodded towards Annabel stood quivering against the wall.
'I could sort her for ye.' suggested Cormag, unsheathing his dagger again.
Annabel cowered.
'No' said Elizabeth 'there’s already too much death. Let her go.'
In the loft of the carriage house, Shipton was trying to escape. He tucked the dangling key inside his shirt and tried different ways to get onto the ladder. The pain from his injuries kept pulling him back but eventually he managed to shuffle his backside onto the top rung. He was sweating and panting but at least he had made a start. Now he just had to turn himself around. But then from outside came footsteps and chatter. The Scotsmen must be returning. He scrambled back up the ladder, his feet slipping in his haste, pain tearing across his abdomen, but he wasn't about to stop. He knew what these Scotsman would do if they found him. He made it back on to the balcony just as the door opened. He crawled quietly back over the boards and hid himself again in the corner.
Mother Munro took pleasure in the chance to tell her story again. Each telling was a little more exciting than the last and with a few more twists, but the gist was the same.
From the attic Shipton listened carefully. It was even better than he'd imagined. Maybe if he bided his time he could still get his hands on the stone again before he escaped.
Elizabeth also listened carefully. A few days ago she would have laughed, but now she had seen it work with her own eyes and on her very own child. She had to find a way to get some of this precious water to her husband to save him.
Samuel smiled. He felt vindicated for his belief in the stone. No one seemed worried about the Devil or black magic now.
After the story was finished Elizabeth took Madadh to one side.
'Why did you bring the old lady here, Mister MacDonald?'
'She asked us tee,' explained Madadh 'she hurt her sel’ an' she needed the cure fro' the potion.'
'We’ve not much room, but I suppose she can’t really go anywhere else at the moment.’
'An’ if she’s here an' the stoon’s here then me an’ Cormag will be stayin’ as well - te look after oor int’rests, if ye folloow.'
'You can’t stay here' said Elizabeth 'I promised, James...and Mister Jarvis. No one can stay in the house.'
'Och we’re noo talkin’ boot the hoose lady, this’ll be braw.' Madadh sat down and leant against the timber plank walls of the carriage house. He stretched his arms out as if sitting on a fine sofa.
Elizabeth frowned. She didn't like the looks of this pair.
'An’ noo, ‘tis 'boot tim ye gi’us oor stoon back.'
Elizabeth hesitated. Brock sensed her uncertainty and moved alongside her.
'I can’t do that.'
'That’s noo what I wanna hear.' said Madadh 'I’ll be needin’ ma stoon.'
'My husband is sick; my family are in danger Mister MacDonald. You can have your stone back when they are safe from this infection but not before.'
'I’ve noo come all this way for nowt. Ye’ll be gi’in' me that stoon.' Madadh spoke through gritted teeth.
'Madadh, you’re being rude.' interrupted Mother Munro 'We’re guests here. As long as this fine lady and her children can continue to provide us with potion an' a place te sleep, then we’ll be grateful. We can worry aboot the stoon later. That way we all get the benefits. I’ll see nay more blood today.'
Elizabeth picked up Alice. ‘I’ll bring you potion four times a day. If you want anything else tell me, but I’d be glad if you stay out of the house.'
Madadh grunted.
'Come on children.' Elizabeth gathered her brood together and headed for the exit. 'Mister Brock can I have a word please.'
As they were leaving, Mary was distracted by a shuffling sound from the shadows in the corner of the room. She slipped away to investigate. There was a pile of wooden crates and spares for the carriage stacked in the corner. Behind the pile was a tarpaulin and from underneath poked out the toe-ends of a pair of boots. Mary was curious. She gently kicked one of the boots then stepped back. Fingers appeared over the top of the tarpaulin and pulled it slowly down. Nick’s face peeped over the fabric. Mary’s heart skipped a beat.
'Nick! What are you doin’ ‘ere?'
Nick looked around anxiously. 'I had to get away. I couldn’t put up with that bastard anymore.' he whispered. 'Not after what he did.'
'But... what are you gonna do? You can’t stay in here, under that. Not you Nick.'
'I know. I thought maybe... you might be able to get me inside your house... I’ll hide, your folks won’t know I’m there.'
'Mary. Mary! Where are you?' shouted her mother. 'We’ve got things to do.'
'Wait, Mary, don't go yet. There's something I didn't tell you.' He glanced nervously towards Madadh and Cormag. 'The day we went to that house, you know to find that key...when you told me all about the men from Scotland and their daggers and all of that? Well there was a body, a man, his throat cut with a knife, hidden in the cupboard. I didn't want to scare you back then. But that's them, right there isn't it. They're the ones you were talking about.'
Mary nodded solemnly.
'You got to get me out of here, into the house. It's not safe. Please Mary.'
'Mary, where are you?' shouted her mother again.
'Look' whispered Mary 'I’ll come back later and we'll find a way to get you in the house. You can hide in the attic. I'll bring you food and water.'
'Please Mary. Don't forget.' Nick grabbed her hand then smiled 'You’re special, you know that.'
Mary blushed. 'I'll be back Nick, I promise.'
'Mary, wait.' Nick gestured to her to come closer. As Mary leant over he reached a hand behind her neck and pulled her face towards his. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. 'You won't forget me Mary, will you?'
Mary's knees shook, her heart thumped. 'I won't, Nick, I promise.'
Nick pulled the cover back over himself and waited.
Madadh was unhappy. He wanted the stone in his hand.
'Look Madadh' said Mother Munro 'I canna go anywhere for the moment so nor can the stoon. There’s nothing to be gained by fighting over it noo. We’ll wait until the time is right and we’ll get the stoon. Dinna be worryin' noo, have patience my boy.'
Samuel showed his mother how to make more potion and between them they converted pints of plain water into medicine.
Elizabeth poured it carefully into a large flask and handed it to Brock. 'Please be sure to give this to James. Tell him four times a day, every day. And here,' she poured more and handed it to Brock 'for you. To keep you safe.'
Brock smiled and swigged a mouthful. 'I’ll be back. I swear. I'll make sure you're safe.'
Elizabeth followed him outside. At the end of the drive, a large fat man with an apron was marching over the iron gate towards the house. 'Oh for heaven's sake! Who on earth's coming now?'
'I’ll see to this.' Brock strode towards him.
'Is this the home of the children? The ones with Scroggs?'
'Get the hell out of here!' Brock began to try and shove him back out of the drive but it was like trying to push an elephant.
'I’m lookin' for those servant kids, boy an' a girl. The ones what came to my inn.'
Samuel poked his head out of the kitchen door.
> 'Ah! There you are!' He barged his way past Brock. 'I thought this'd be the place. I 'ad some bloody trouble gettin' 'ere I tell ya!'
'What d'you mean, came to your inn?' Elizabeth asked with a look of consternation.
'No, no, it ain't like that! I found 'em down me back alley... wi' Scroggs, when he got stabbed.'
'Stabbed! Samuel, come back out 'ere! And you Mary.'
Samuel and his sister emerged reluctantly from the kitchen.
'No, sorry lady, it ain't like it sounds. Look, I had a fella came to see me an', well I reckon in 'indsight, 'e was a bit dodgy. He tricked me into tellin' 'im where you lot live. 'E said he was after Scroggs. But I reckon it's prob'ly 'bout that stone. You know the one, everyone's talkin' 'bout it. 'E's prob'ly on 'is way 'ere right now to get it.'
'Who? Who's coming? And who's Scroggs. I don't know any Scroggs. You're not making sense.’ said Elizabeth.
'Scroggs, nah, not I'm not worried 'bout 'im, 'e's just a useless drunk. Nah, it's the other bloke, Le Clerc, says 'e's a doctor but I reckon that's a load of horse shit too. After 'e left my inn, I got thinkin'... well... I was just a bit worried, that's all, 'bout them two.' He nodded towards Mary and Samuel.
'Look, I'll stay here with you.' Brock reassured Elizabeth. 'He'll not cause you any trouble.'
'No, please Mister Brock, you must get that potion to James.'
'Look,' added the inn-keeper, 'I'll wait. I'll make sure if that bloke comes that 'e don't cause you no 'arm.'
Elizabeth put her hands on her head. 'What? No...I don't know...' This was all getting too much.
'Mum,' said Mary softly, ''he's alright, 'e 'elped us, when we was in trouble. Helped us with the food an' that, saw us right.'
Elizabeth shrugged. 'Alright then, but he stays in the carriage house with the rest of them. He's not comin' inside.'
'No problem. An' ... as I'm 'ere, hows 'bout a bit o' that med'cine everyone's talkin' 'bout?'
'Please Mister Brock, hurry back.' urged Elizabeth.
Chapter 28