Tregarthur’s Series

Book 3

Tregarthur’s Prisoners

Alex Mellanby

Cillian Press

First published in Great Britain in 2015by Cillian Press Limited. 83 Ducie Street, Manchester M1 2JQ

www.cillianpress.co.uk

Copyright © Alex Mellanby 2015

The right of Alex Mellanby to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar

condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-909776-14-2eBook ISBN: 978-1-909776-15-9

Cover Photography: 'Tall sailing ship from Russia' Copyright © Adrian van Leen 2015

Published byCillian Press – Manchester - 2015

www.cillianpress.co.uk

This book is dedicated, as before, to Pat Read and all the walkers who have and will take up the challenge of the Ten Tors. May they never meet Alice Tregarthur.

It is also in memory of so many lives devastated by transportation.

Cillian Press have again been fantastic and put up with my rantings and ravings which might reflect the characters but was more due to my inadequate technology skills. Carolyn’s wonderful support and encouragement helped me to turn my endless ramblings into a story.

Finally regrets to the many giant tortoises eaten by sailors in the Indian Ocean.

Contents

The Carter Gang.......9

Justice.......20

Death Row.......28

Turn of the Key.......37

All Aboard.......45

Off the Coast of Africa.......53

‘Sail!’.......63

Becalmed.......71

A Step too Far.......78

Paradise.......84

Heading South.......94

Unwelcome News.......103

As Far as You Can Go.......112

Crated.......121

Another Specimen.......130

The Smallest Cry.......139

The Plan.......149

Yambup.......156

Corroboree.......164

Grey Shores.......172

Mr Connoy.......180

An Unexpected Friend.......187

Gin.......197

Carted Off.......208

Tregarthur’s Crystal.......217

9

-1-

The Carter Gang

The wild swinging of the horse-drawn prison cart made thinking difficult, not that thinking would have done

any good. I’d been grabbed within seconds of coming out of the tunnel. How had they been waiting for us? Us? I wasn’t sure who I was with. And I had absolutely no idea when it was.

I just knew we hadn’t escaped from Miss Tregarthur, the teacher whose terrible anger was all aimed at me. This place, this time, she must have sent us here, would we ever find out why or even how and would it never end? Perhaps it would, but only with my death.

We’d been dragged off the moor and pushed down a muddy track. I’d tried to look around and someone hit me with a lump of wood – it looked like a truncheon and it hurt. Looking around got me a sack over my head. As I stumbled on I was soaked through by damp drizzle, we’d been used to that sort of weather ever since the first day of Miss Tregarthur’s hike.

When we stopped, I heard the noise of other men and horses. I felt an animal’s hot steamy breath and I was nuzzled

10

out of the way. We were thrown into the back of the cart. I could just make out shapes through the sacking and I wasn’t sure how many of us had been taken prisoner. The cart had high side rails, I tried to sit, it wasn’t easy with my hands tied.

‘Moreton lock-up,’ one of the men shouted and we were off. Massive ruts in the road made the cart almost turn over as we headed away from the moor.

‘Ow,’ squealed a voice I recognised – Jenna. She must have smacked against the cart side and I felt her slide down over my leg.

‘No talking,’ shouted one of the men who had taken us prisoner. From the sound of it they were following the cart on horseback.

‘Who’s here?’ Jenna asked me in a whisper.‘Me and Sam,’ came another whisper – Ivy’s whisper. ‘It’s

just the four of us. You alright Sam?’A groan came from the other side.‘I saw Sam fall.’ Jenna’s voice was heard by the men, there

was a loud crack and she shrieked. It sounded like a whip. We stayed quiet after that. I wedged myself against the woodwork. There was no way to stop getting bruised and bashed as we picked up speed.

Finally we stopped. The men started shouting, more people arriving. We were dragged off the cart and the sacks pulled from our heads, finding ourselves standing on a mud street surrounded by old thatched houses. A crowd was gathering, surrounding us, in the fading light the crowd, maybe twenty or thirty of them, holding lanterns.

‘The Carter gang,’ shouted one of the men as he climbed down from his horse. ‘Get the magistrate.’

11

The crowd cheered. I felt a sharp sting on my face. Someone had thrown a stone.

‘Stop that,’ shouted the man. ‘We need to keep them alive for the drop.’

That raised a laugh. Ivy gave a moan and even though she did a lot of moaning I thought this had to be bad. The drop - wasn’t that hanging? We’d escaped from the last lot who were going to burn us to death, escaped through the tunnel and now we were going to be hanged.

‘At least you’re famous, the famous Alvin Carter,’ Jenna said without laughing.

A short man with a large belly pushed his way through, stood in front of us, nodded and said, ‘In the lockup for tonight. Judge says he wants them down South for the assize court.’ He turned to the first man. ‘Jake, you’ll have to take them, don’t let them escape.’

‘You paying?’ asked the man called Jake.‘Usual rates.’‘Oi, you,’ shouted Jenna and she pointed with her tied hands

at the man who must have been the magistrate.The crowd hushed after a few sniggers, I don’t think they

were used to people shouting at their magistrate, especially young girls. I was used to Jenna shouting at people, everything that had happened to us had made her braver. Brave, but was it the right thing to do now?

‘Why are you doing this?’ Jenna went on. ‘You’ve no right.’Jake shoved her and she fell to the ground. I could see he

was going to kick her, so I threw myself forward and we all tumbled into the mud, including the magistrate. Three men jumped on me, one smashed his fist into my stomach. I couldn’t

12

breathe, gasping as they pulled me up and hit me again. Jenna screamed, Ivy cried out and Sam just looked confused.

‘Lockup. Now.’ The magistrate brushed himself off and tried to stride away, more of a waddle.

Sam and I were thrown into a damp cellar. It looked like it was used to store wood and other junk. Cold, wet, muddy and dark when they slammed and locked the door. And the sort of smell you don’t want to ask about.

I hurt from the beating. I needed Jenna. She was the one who kept me from giving up. There was no end to this. At least they had untied our hands.

‘Don’t see why they bothered to take off the sacks, can’t see anything,’ Sam groaned.

There was only a slit of dim light coming from under the door.‘What was that?’ Sam startled and shifted nearer to me.‘Rats,’ I said without thinking, Sam gave a shriek and shuffled

even closer.I’d forgotten he hadn’t been with us in the plague village,

so he wasn’t used to rats.‘What happened to you?’ Sam asked. ‘We didn’t see you

again after me and Ivy got into the tunnel, what happened?’That almost made me smile, Sam getting me to talk, maybe

to take my mind away from things too horrible to think about. Sam was such a different person from the one that had set out on Miss Tregarthur’s hike.

So I told him what had happened and as I talked it did feel better. I told him how the tunnel had taken us back to the time of the Black Death and how we’d saved the king. How Zach the ex-school bully had somehow been set up as the person

13

in charge and sentenced us to death. Zach and the ex-school queen bitch Demelza.

‘We escaped, but Miss Tregarthur had us cornered by a crowd of crazy villagers and she’s done it again,’ I said. ‘If you and Ivy hadn’t turned up they were going to burn us to death. Don’t know how you did that. How did you get there?’

‘I don’t know, don’t understand.’ Sam moved again as we heard more scuffling noises in the dark.

‘Where did you come from? What were you doing all the time we were away?’ I found a small stone on the floor next to me and chucked it at the noise, I don’t think I hit anything.

Sam had no real answer. ‘What time? We just swirled about and there we were.’

‘Wasn’t Ivy hurt in the cave …’ I choked on my words, suddenly remembering Mum. Her lying bleeding on the cave floor, had she died? ‘Wasn’t Ivy hurt in the caveman battle?’ I finished.

Sam wasn’t sure about anything. ‘Ivy hurt? Maybe, yeah I think so, hurt her arm.’ More of it came back to him. ‘Jenna said to get into the tunnel ahead of you, so we did.’

‘What happened next?’ I asked.‘Like I said we just came out and there you were with that

crazy Tregarthur woman,’ Sam sounded as though he was talking through a fog, finding it hard to remember. ‘She was going on about revenge and trying to stop you getting away.’

‘You kept the tunnel open for us.’ I gave a shiver, we’d been so close to death.

‘Don’t know it’s done any good?’ Sam moaned, he hadn’t watched the villagers building the bonfire for us, at least we were still alive.

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I tried to get Sam to remember more, it made no sense to him. They had gone into the tunnel and come straight out to save us. I suppose that if you are messing around in time travel years for us could have been seconds for Sam and Ivy. But it can’t have been Miss Tregarthur’s plan that Sam and Ivy should arrive and save us. She wanted us dead, still did. Something else was going on and I had no idea what that could be.

I just hoped it had made Zach disappear for good. I didn’t really believe that. He had to have something to do with us being in this prison. Talking and thinking really hadn’t made anything better.

We heard a bang which sounded like another door being slammed, followed by footsteps outside our cell. Our door was flung open and someone dumped a jug and some bread on the floor.

‘Hey,’ I shouted as I tried to get up and stop him, but another man stepped in and pushed me down.

‘May need to keep you alive, that’s all,’ he laughed at me and they left.

‘What have you done with them?’ I yelled at the closed door. I had to find out what had happened to Jenna and Ivy.

A small hatch high up in the door opened. ‘Keep the noise down or we may give up on keeping you alive.’

The men walked away. The open hatch gave enough light to see the food. Outside the door was just a stone corridor, no noise of other prisoners, no sign of Jenna and Ivy.

‘Maybe they’ve let them go,’ suggested Sam.I was sure he was wrong and I didn’t say anything. I worried

how they treated women prisoners.

15

We ate the stale bread and drank something from the jug, it tasted foul. Sam and I talked a bit more and despite the threats, we tried shouting through the hatch and nothing happened, no one came and the damp cold ate its way into us as the light faded to nothing.

In the dark more awful thoughts came back to me. The mystery of my mum. What had really happened? Jenna had worried that she might have survived, all I remembered was that terrible wound from the battle, surely no one could live after that, could they? What if … had I left her there in more danger?

Closing my eyes brought the wild face of Miss Tregarthur into my head, I could hear her screams, feel her hate. We were firmly in her grip with no escape.

Maybe I slept or at least dozed. In the morning they came with the blacksmith and we were put in manacles before being dragged off to the cart again, all four of us. Our hands were tied but they didn’t put the sacks back so I could see Jenna. She had bruises on her cheek and the deep scowl on her face told me she was very angry. Ivy looked miserable – but normally miserable for Ivy.

Jenna tried to say something.‘I told you. No talking,’ shouted Jake and cracked his whip

on the wooden sides, just missing her.We banged along down the rough track. Hours of painful

bumps. We stopped in another small village and a few people gathered round to jeer at us. The Carter gang were already known of here.

‘What are we supposed to have done?’ Sam risked a question

16

to Jake who was sitting on his horse taking a long drink of ale that someone had passed up to him.

Jake just laughed in a nasty way, ‘Suppose you’ll pretend you’re innocent.’ He finished his drink and let loose a spit of phlegm which hit Sam on the head and we were off again.

‘Sheep stealing,’ whispered Jenna, looking round anxiously. ‘And worse.’

As well as Jake, two other men followed on horses and a huge man up front handled the cart. If Jenna was anxious that meant the night in the lockup had been bad for them. Ivy said absolutely nothing and I saw tears trickle down her cheeks.

As day faded we reached another village and another cell. In the night I heard a scream and thought it sounded like one of the girls. I was on my feet shouting and kicking the door, but it was hopeless.

During the next day the road became better, more carts passed and more people on horseback. Often there were women selling food and drink, standing outside rough looking houses and shouting about the things they had to sell. Sometimes we stopped while the men bought ale or just chatted to the women. Jake soon had us moving on again and after more painful miles I could see we were nearing a town with a cloud of smoke rising in the distance and the smell getting even worse. Wherever and whenever we were they hadn’t worked out how to deal with sewage yet.

‘Must be a couple of hundred years before our time,’ Ivy muttered. There was enough noise all around us as we entered narrow streets, so we could manage a few snatched words, but none of them helpful, and mostly about Miss Tregarthur.

We needed Jack and Mary, the other two who’d survived the

17

Black Death but had disappeared after the last trip in the time tunnel. They would have known more about this place and this time. I wished they’d come with us, but that was unfair. I tried to be happy that at least they weren’t going to be hanged.

‘How do you reckon a couple of hundred years?’ asked Jen.‘Dunno really,’ Ivy went on. ‘Oil street lights, horses, foul

stink.’‘Does that mean there is more of that Black Death?’ I wasn’t

sure if that mattered now. Although hanging did sound a little better than being burnt alive.

‘Not like what you’d really call civilised is it?’ Jenna squirmed across the cart to avoid something foul being thrown out of one of the passing windows.

The streets narrowed even more with buildings crowding in on us. Wooden framed houses hanging over the street, almost touching, shouts and noise from traders, barking dogs and always that stench. It was a slow journey, stopping to let other carts squeeze past, once a posh carriage bundled through. I could see people sitting inside with handkerchiefs held tight to their faces to cover the smell.

Finally we came into a square and stopped. Space to look around before more hands grabbed us and pulled us from the cart. Jake shouted something about getting a warrant and he was off. We were hustled into a large stone building. The rank smell even worse, more shouting from onlookers, weeping women, children running around and playing in the dirt, dogs and fear. This was the town jail.

Sam and I were flung into a crowded, barred cell. A barred cell in a row of other barred cells. Stone walls separating groups of prisoners.

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In our cell there were maybe ten other miserable, ragged men on the ground with their backs to the walls. One bigger man sat alone, the rest keeping away from him. I shouted after Jen. I couldn’t see what was happening to her. She was dragged out of sight.

Sam and I turned from the cell door to face the other men. The big man raised himself and closed in on us. This was trouble, but given all the other things that were likely to happen to us I wasn’t as scared as I should have been. Anyway this lot looked like the people I knew back home. Although I hadn’t seen where my dad was put in jail I did know what he did at home, how he carried on his illegal business. And he knew how to deal with people who messed with him, even the big ones. Could I do it?

I had to stop shaking so I spat on the floor before turning back to the man and I poked him in the stomach.

There was a gasp and silence around the cell. The big man looked surprised and his face creased in an angry red grimace, I had to see this through so I pushed him hard and said, ‘Don’t you know who we are?’

I saw Sam get the message and watched as he tried to roll his shoulders and look tough. He might not be the round fat faced school kid anymore but toughness didn’t come easily to him. At least my question had stopped the big man.

One of the guards who’d been watching, probably hoping for a bit of fun, lent against the bars and called out, ‘It’s the Carter gang.’

More gasps.‘We’re famous,’ I said in a whisper aside to Sam.‘Oh good.’ But Sam didn’t look as though it was good at all.

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‘Sorry Mr Carter,’ said the big man and he moved away.I knew it wouldn’t last. This man wasn’t going to take the

put down for long. I had to sit or my legs were going to give way. I went down on the hard floor and tried to keep the stony glare on my face, the one Dad used when things went badly.

Every so often the guards came to pull someone from the cell. Some came back, others didn’t. From their talk I heard that there was some sort of court going on. And soon it was our turn.

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-2-

Justice

The jail was an uproar of clamouring, wailing, crying voices. We were led out, pushing past people who seemed to have

no business other than watching. Down a long stone corridor Sam and I clunked with our manacled chains chaffing at each step. We were famous and that made the jeers even louder.

We only just got out of our cell in time. The big man who felt he owned the place made it clear he was fed up believing he had to be nice to us. We definitely did not look scary. Sam tried his best and failed. Me too. I’d had enough, I couldn’t fight this much more. Whatever Miss Tregarthur had in mind for us I couldn’t see us getting out of it again.

This wasn’t the first time I’d wanted my family around me, even the bad ones, actually especially the bad ones. And as for Mum, well there was no chance of finding her again even if she was alive, she’s stuck in some caveman world. I was in a bit of a trance thinking these thoughts and hadn’t noticed we’d stopped at the base of a flight of stairs.

Jenna and Ivy came down and joined us. I tried to look hopefully at them, but it was a waste of time. Ivy never managed to look hopeful and it felt like a black thunder cloud always lingered over her head. Much worse, Jenna looked wrecked, her shoulders slumped and she barely noticed me.

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Our guards were shouting at the crowd which became even larger and noisier as we went, along with calls for our death. A woman prodded Jenna but she didn’t react.

‘Get your hands off.’ One of the guards pushed the woman away. ‘Nothing like a death sentence to bring out the worst of them,’ he laughed to another.

A cold wet shiver slid down my neck. We were marched on and out through an open space surrounded by high walls. Ivy let out a shriek. I turned, wondering what had happened. I suppose the guards did it on purpose, letting us stop there, just in front of the scaffolding.

‘It’s a gibbet,’ whispered Sam.I wondered how he knew what it was called. I didn’t know

the name but it was obvious that the wooden frame towering above us was used for hanging.

‘On with you,’ prodded the guard. ‘Soon see enough of that,’ he laughed again and the crowd joined in.

We passed through a stone arch with the sign ‘Courts’. This wasn’t like courts I’d known before and I had been to a few. It was not like the sort of place I’d been to when Dad or my brother had been arrested, nothing was like this court. This was more like a market. People selling all sorts of stuff – food, drink, even chickens, kids pinching things, men offering to be your lawyer.

One of those men grabbed me, ‘Mr Carter. I think I can help you.’ He said it in a loud whisper, no confidence in his voice, just suspicion. He didn’t look like he would help anyone.

The guards let him get on with his business for a moment, must have been something in it for them. Eventually one called, ‘Not got all day.’

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‘Just a few pieces of silver and I’m sure we can sort out this mess for you.’ His voice changed to a greasy slimy pitch which he let the guards hear.

‘You’ll be lucky.’ The guard started to push the man aside.I looked at Jenna. Her face said nothing good, no fight left,

nothing of my Jenna, she just stared at the ground.Did we have any money? Jenna didn’t have the backpack

anymore that Mary gave her before we went into the tunnel. The guards must have taken it. I did have the belt that I’d been given – a reward for saving the king from the Black Death. The gold belt. It was too small to go round my waist, so Jenna persuaded me to wrap it round my arm, under the tunic. Maybe it was worth a lot. Letting this man see it couldn’t be a good idea, especially out here with so many people around.

The man’s eyes followed me as we were pulled away. ‘See you later,’ he mouthed as doors closed behind us. I had no idea what that was about, there was something very odd about that man, almost familiar. We were pushed onwards with no time to think.

As we neared the actual courtroom the corridors became even more chaotic. Lawyers with dirt stained wigs and grubby suits held bundles of papers and shouted, trying to get attention while officers and prisoners all shouted back. We were shoved through, under an arch and pushed into one of the courtrooms. Tiers of benches faced me, crowded benches, people searching for space, staring at us.

The room was full and as we entered the noise stopped, until someone whispered: ‘The Carter Gang.’

That caused the shouting to erupt. I heard more calls for our

23

death. I looked up, not easy to make out faces in the steamy jostling mob. At the top, surrounded by uniformed lackeys, sat the person who would judge this court. He banged his gavel onto the bench and one of uniformed men screamed, ‘Silence.’

I recognised the slimy face of the person in the judge’s seat.‘Zach,’ I called, and his smile reminded me so clearly of yet

another rat.I looked around and there she was, Demelza, smirking in the

gallery, looking like she lived here, waving a dainty fan. I don’t suppose it really came as much of a surprise to see Zach sitting as the judge. This had to be Miss Tregarthur’s doing, nobody in any right mind would appoint Zach as a judge. Apart from anything he’d only just left school back in our time.

I didn’t expect what happened next. Sam was up and at him. He leapt from our guards and despite his manacled legs wriggled up the rank of desks and was about to hurl himself at Zach until one of the officers clubbed him with a long black truncheon and Sam fell to the floor.

Zach smiled again. Demelza smirked again.A thin faced man in a slightly grubby jacket stood up and

coughed, not loud enough to get anyone’s attention. The noise didn’t stop until another man in some sort of uniform shouted, ‘Quiet, anyone talking will be taken down to the cells.’ Even that threat only caused a brief hush while grubby jacket started to read.

‘You four, known as the Carter gang,’ he paused and looked down at us, ‘are charged with larceny …’

The crowd gave a loud, group, ‘Oooh.’‘… rustling …’‘Aaah.’

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‘And murder.’‘Hang them,’ they screamed from the gallery.It was just like the court in the Black Death village. Zach

had someone identify us, say how many sheep we’d stolen, and how many men had died. Demelza gave a little wave. She looked happy to see us in this mess. Oddly I was wondering what larceny was, in the list of crimes, and how bad was it?

‘Theft,’ Sam groaned. ‘It’s just theft I suppose …’ He stopped with no more words.

Jenna managed to pull herself together a little more and started shouting at Zach without any effect. I thought the truncheon man would hit her as well so I moved between them. I wanted to get angry but I had nothing left. I wanted to give up, just let them get on with it.

Zach smashed his gavel down again.‘Silence,’ shouted the uniformed man once more.Just like the so-called trial before, when we’d been convicted

as witches, we were asked if we had anything to say and no one let us speak. Sam was now lying groaning on the floor, Ivy had slumped down, Jenna’s brief spark had gone out and she turned away. I had nothing to say, no one would listen, they’d made this up and they weren’t going to hear the truth from me. Not that I had any idea what had happened. Where had the idea about the Carter gang come from? We’d only just arrived in the tunnel – not enough time to steal sheep, let alone murder people.

‘How do you find?’ The grubby man shouted to a group of people on the benches in front of us. I realised they had to be the jury. Didn’t look like a jury, more like a band of paid thugs, mostly drunk.

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One of them was asleep and snoring, a difficult achievement in all that noise. Someone poked him and he jumped up, shouting, ‘Guilty, guilty,’ before folding back into his seat. The rest of the onlookers took up his chant, along with ‘hang them, hang them’.

Jenna was doing her best to prop Ivy up and hold her. It didn’t feel real at all but it did feel final. I wasn’t sure that we’d get out of the courtroom alive and even if we did we weren’t going to last long. The court was full of roaring, spitting, howling people, now standing, and they wanted us dead.

Zach was scribbling something onto paper, difficult for him to do at the best of times, even harder with an ink quill. He looked up, picked up his sheet of paper, checked it, bent down under his table and came up wearing a black piece of cloth over his head.

The crowd went into some even higher level of madness. ‘Black cap, black cap,’ they yelled. ‘Black cap, death for the Carter gang.’

Zach started to read and there was too much noise to hear what he said but everything went quiet as he came to the end: ‘… taken from the cells and hanged by the neck until dead.’ He finished with a little wave and a bow.

Jenna flared again in the moment of quiet, ‘Why? What are you doing? You can’t hang us.’

‘Not you,’ Zach sneered. ‘Not the hanging for you, just Mr Carter and that snivelling little creep with him. Not you two girls – it’s the boats for you. Transportation. Now lead them away.’

We struggled, tried to talk, yelling against the noise, to tell the court that it was all made up lies, but no one was listening.

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Zach left the courtroom by the back door, Demelza followed, and surely I wasn’t mistaken, was that wild looking woman who left by the same door someone I recognised? Someone who had caused all this trouble. Her eyes caught mine just before she left and that snarl crept back onto her face, the snarl I’d seen before on the moor. The face of Alice Tregarthur, who had led us into this mess and wanted us dead.

Two new guards appeared and seized Jenna and Ivy. I was held back.

‘Alvin,’ screamed Jen as they dragged her off. I rammed my guard in the stomach, pushed forward and held on to her. There were no words to say and we were pulled apart, no tears could show my feelings at that moment. Life was at an end. It had never really changed from the time I had set out on the school hike. My life was heading into a fatal pile up even then, to be thrown out onto the streets if I ever did get home. We had fought back, twice we had survived Miss Tregarthur’s awful plans. Now it was all over. Jenna’s head turned back to me once more as she was pulled away. Her face blank and hopeless.

Sam was at my side. Once he would have dissolved into a shivering mess. His life, perhaps more awful than my own with both his parents dead. Despite that he had grown to fight his demons. Now that would be over too. We were both for the ‘drop’, both to end our lives hanging in that courtyard with mocking shouts the last words we would ever hear.

My guard repaid me for the blow. Sam and I were pushed off. Another cell. The two of us alone. Condemned persons had the luxury of seclusion. And no longer in manacles. That didn’t stop the queue of gawping people paying the guards to

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take a peek at our misery as we sat in dampness; luxury didn’t extend to comfort.

A man came in to see us, a smiling red faced man with a cheerful voice. Was he here to tell us it was all a mistake and we were to be released? No he had come to measure us for the coffins.

‘After the gallows,’ he said with another grin as he held up a measure.

‘When?’ Sam asked for an answer I didn’t want to hear.‘Soon enough,’ said the man as though it didn’t need saying.

‘You in a hurry?’ His face twisted in a vicious smile. ‘I’ll ask if they can do it today.’

Sam couldn’t hold his bravery any longer and dissolved into sobs.

I sat with my head in my hands. I wished I could see my wonderful Jenna once more, but she was gone. I was done for, it was over, why had I ever thought I could change anything, change myself? I was stupid and soon I would be stupid and dead.

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-3-

Death Row

Eventually the onlookers merged into people selling food or drink or copies of the bible, offering to read special texts,

offering medicines which would take away the pain of hanging.‘No money,’ I mumbled at them and I could see they didn’t

believe me.‘Carter gang must have it stashed away,’ one of them shouted.I tried to ignore them. At least the bars on our cell kept them

back, although they all pushed forwards when the guards threw in some bread and a jug of water, both of which smelt foul.

I still had the gold belt, wrapped round my arm. If it was worth something we might be able to at least get some food. But one thing I had learnt from my family was not to give away anything until you had a clear idea of the dangers. And the lot outside our cell were dangerous. These law courts and prisons attracted many of the sort of people I’d met back home.

‘How long …’ murmured Sam. He got up and walked to the wall, as far away as he could get - it wasn’t far enough. ‘Go away, get lost, leave us alone,’ he shouted and the crowd outside our cell just laughed.

Sam slid down with his face to the wall. I’d had practice at waiting to die and this was Sam’s first experience. He hadn’t been with us when the villagers were set on burning us to death. But

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practice hadn’t given me any clue on how to handle it. I just stared at the ground, the noise from outside faded in my mind.

Slowly the light darkened, there were no lamps in our small space, just a dim glow out in the stone corridor which ran past all the other prison cells. With the fading light sounds faded too and it became a restless quiet occasionally broken by sobs from further away. We weren’t the only ones waiting for the drop.

A rat ran across the floor. It stopped to look at me. I didn’t move. Were rats as dangerous here as before? Really I couldn’t be bothered. I saw that the animal was after our hunk of bread. It might be stale but it was all we had so I dived and grabbed it. The rat hissed at me. I aimed an ill-timed kick and slipped painfully to the ground.

‘You won’t get rid of them like that, won’t get rid of them at all,’ said a man standing in the shadows outside our cell looking from side to side as though he didn’t want to be heard.

Where had he appeared from? Slowly he came forward and even in the dim light I recognised the podgy man who had approached me outside the court.

‘I said I’d see you again,’ he said and sounded even more nervous, looking round as though one of the guards might come back. I tried to make out his face without success. He kept himself hidden, which didn’t make him any more hopeful. Why would I expect there to be anyone who could do anything to prevent our execution?

‘Who are you?’ Sam roused himself and walked to the bars. ‘Please, can you help?’

‘You can call me … Hugh,’ he said in a less than believable way, although something made me feel it probably was his name

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and he hadn’t been quick enough to think of another one. ‘I can help … you’ve got to make sure no one hears.’

‘We haven’t got any money,’ Sam cried.I could see he was going to start begging for help. I didn’t

want that. There was no need to beg this man at the moment. He’d come for something. He was going to tell us when he wanted to.

‘Leave it Sam,’ I said as firmly as I could. ‘Hugh, or whoever he is, is going to tell us what he’s after even if we don’t want to hear it.’

Hugh didn’t reply, he was getting even more jumpy.Sounds came from further down the corridor. Clanking of

chains, more prisoners, or did they hang people at night? I was wondering if they had a torchlit execution. Bizarre, the thoughts that go through your mind when you’re waiting to die.

Hugh fidgeted with something in his pocket, looked behind him again and said, ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’ And he looked as though he was going to run.

‘Will we still be here?’ Sam called for him to stop.‘Yes, they won’t send for you for a few days yet. But I’ve got

to go,’ Hugh twitched.‘What are they waiting for?’ My voice cracked with anger.‘The hangman isn’t here. He’s a few days away.’ Hugh turned

away again. ‘Really must go now.’‘Wait.’ I grabbed the bars and tried to reach through to

hold him. ‘What about Jenna and Ivy? Have you seen them?’Hugh’s shoulders slumped. ‘Nothing I could do. They’ve

put them on the Lady Maun.’‘The what?’ Sam picked up. ‘What’s the Lady Maun?’‘It’s a convict ship.’ Hugh paused. ‘Unluckily for them, the

31

boat happened to be in port and leaving tonight on the tide. So they took them aboard.’

The thought of Jenna being dragged off on a boat made things even worse. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know any more, but I still asked: ‘Where are they going?’

‘Australia,’ Hugh said now in more of a whisper. ‘Where they send all the convicts.’ He turned and hurried off, hissing, ‘Tomorrow,’ over his shoulder.

The night felt as though it lasted forever, sleep broken by so many different sounds. A small barred window high up on the wall opened to the outside world letting in occasional flickers of light and noise from the street, nothing compared to the howls and cries from the other cells on death row. I filled Sam’s wakeful hours by telling him all about our time with the Black Death.

‘Why is Miss Tregarthur after us?’ he said in a calmer voice than before.

‘No idea, she’s using Zach and Demelza. I’ve no idea why she’s after us.’ I shifted on the stony floor. There was a mat in the corner, it looked soiled and I had the thought of fleas in my mind.

We both tried to think of other things to talk about; anything other than hanging.

‘There was something strange about the tunnel, not like before.’ Sam looked as though memories were coming back to him. ‘Any idea what it was?’

I didn’t answer at first because I didn’t understand. This was a battle with Miss Tregarthur. She wanted to stop us using the tunnel to escape the mob chasing us, but Sam and Ivy had changed everything.

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‘Not sure it is a tunnel, in the usual way,’ I said after a while. ‘Almost as though it’s something under someone’s control – under Miss Tregarthur’s control.’

‘It didn’t feel like that when we came through.’ Sam hesitated. ‘As if whatever does this time travelling thing, it sort of … was it pushing us on to help you? Surely that wasn’t what Miss Tregarthur wanted to happen?’

That made more sense although it wasn’t much of an explanation. Even if we escaped I felt that crazy woman would try and do something to make sure we didn’t survive.

Sam agreed. ‘We could go back into it and end up some-where even worse.’ He stopped as we both realised there wasn’t anywhere much worse than this death cell.

All this talk made me think about Mum again. Was she dead or had we left her behind? There was no way that I would ever find out. She had said we’d get home if we took everyone. We’d scattered people and bodies all over the place, over the several different centuries we had been taken to by the tunnel. It didn’t seem possible that we could get everyone together. At least being dead would stop me worrying about all that. Not a comfortable thought. I lay down on the mat, worrying was too difficult.

And despite the cries, screams, wails, shouts, banging and sounds of fighting I slept until, in the grey light, a guard threw in some more bread, foul comments and the day started again. It wasn’t long before the gawkers were back, perhaps a quick look at the condemned set them up for the day.

I started itching. The mat had been a bad idea.‘Are they going to hang them today?’ A small child had

33

been brought to look at us by his father. ‘Please can I watch, please … please?’

The father bent down and smiled at the boy, ‘Of course, I’ll put you on my shoulders. There’ll be a lot of folk wanting to watch this one.’

‘Are they very bad?’ he asked.‘The worst.’ And they wandered away.There was no silence, just different voices.‘What is it we are actually meant to have done?’ Sam had taken

to pacing the cell. I thought that was probably a good idea and if you moved fast you could probably avoid the jumping fleas.

‘Stolen sheep, stolen other things and murdered a few people.’ I poked the mat and stood back.

‘But we didn’t. How could they make all that up?’I really could see the little creatures jumping up from the

sleeping mat. I started stamping on them.‘What are you doing?’ Sam stopped pacing.‘Killing fleas,’ I answered and he bent down to watch. ‘Don’t

think it’s working,’ I said and we both backed off.I was thinking about Sam’s question. If we hadn’t done

all those things how could they make it up? ‘I suppose sheep stealing and murder happen all the time round here.’ I took a bite from the stale loaf. ‘Swumon, mushed.’ I gave up trying to speak with my mouthful of the hard bread.

‘Someone must have decided to lump all the crimes into one,’ I said eventually.

‘And said it was down to the Carter gang.’ Sam almost gave a smile. ‘At least you’re famous.’

‘But only Miss Tregarthur knew we were here -’ I stopped; looking at the bread, there was something moving in it.

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‘Or knew we were coming here,’ Sam filled in for me.‘Her and Zach,’ I added, picking out a caterpillar, deciding

not to throw the food away. They might be going to hang us and I didn’t want to starve as well.

Sam was thinking. I could see that as I looked at him. Thinking wasn’t something he normally did a lot of. Usually he just blurted out something, often daft. When we’d been at school that would get him bullied, but that was a long time ago – probably several hundred years in the future actually.

Sam’s thoughts ended. ‘That must mean she controls where we end up, and when. She must have set this up before we arrived.’

‘I guess if you mess around in time you can do anything.’ I couldn’t see that we were getting anywhere with this, too bizarre to get any grip on. There was a tunnel thing, there was Miss Tregarthur and we were going to die. I went over to the window. I leapt up and grabbed the bars, pulling myself up to look out. Just more of the same chaos that we’d seen outside the court. People and animals gathering in the early morning. It was obvious that the jail provided a living for many who sold things outside. I dropped back to the ground and we waited.

And we waited some more and more, until we lost all sense of time, before the clank of keys brought back that awful fear. They’d come for us. I was rubbing my neck and snatched my hands away when I realised what I was doing. I couldn’t stop the thoughts, the scaffold, climbing up, the rope, the drop …

‘Leave us.’Hugh was back. Now he was trying to look more important.

Wearing a dark thick jacket he pushed into our cell and stood

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looking at the guard, who shrugged, stepped back and locked us all in. I wondered how he had found this new confidence – had he been at the drink?

‘Shout for me when you’re done,’ the guard said with a sly nod. ‘It’ll cost you.’

‘Of course,’ said Hugh who turned to me, saying: ‘Always the money.’

The guard stamped away. Now there were few people outside. Hugh told me later that was about the money too. The men and women outside the cells had to pay the guards to get through. It was quieter today because someone had just ramped up the charges.

Even so Hugh was only talking in a whisper and made us crouch down in a corner. ‘Not much time,’ he said and kept glancing over his shoulder. ‘That trial and your sentence, all false.’ He stopped and looked into my face. ‘I think we know who did it.’

‘Miss …’ started Sam.‘Hush, don’t mention her name.’ Hugh held up a shaking

hand, his new confidence starting to slip.If Hugh knew about Miss Tregarthur, who was he? Had she

sent him? That seemed unlikely, we’d been sentenced to hang and wasn’t that what she wanted, why would this man save us?

‘How are you going to help us?’ I asked with an angry sneer, this man didn’t look able to help himself.

‘You’ve got something that someone wants.’ Hugh touched me on the arm, the arm on which I’d wrapped the gold chain, the king’s gold chain. I shrugged away, even more suspicious.

‘Can’t explain it all now. If you give it to me I can help.’I stared into the distance, trying to think.

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‘Give it to him,’ said Sam – he knew about the belt from our talk in the night. ‘Give it,’ he almost shrieked, as Hugh tried to stick his hand over Sam’s mouth and kept telling him to hush.

‘How do I know …’ I started.‘You don’t and there isn’t time for you to find out that there

is no other way. The hangman’s back in town, dawn tomorrow for you.’ Hugh was getting more agitated. I couldn’t see how we could trust him, but like he said there probably was no other way.

I pulled back my tunic sleeve and unwound the belt. It sparkled in the dull light. I hadn’t really looked closely at it before. There was writing engraved into the gold. It wasn’t just the gold that sparkled. I could see the light in Hugh’s greedy eyes as well. Even if this wasn’t a bad idea I could see that Hugh was going to do well out of it. Or was he just going to give it to Miss Tregarthur? Was that the plan, get the gold and see that we hanged.

‘Right, I’ll be off,’ Hugh said, standing.‘Now what?’ I wasn’t happy to let him just wander off with

the only thing we had of value.‘You wait,’ Hugh said and he shouted for the guard who

came, unlocked the cell and Hugh almost ran. I looked up at the guard. His eyes were gleaming too, and not from gold, ‘Hangman will be along soon to measure you up.’

I think the guard liked my puzzled look and he added, ‘Have to make sure the rope is just right to let you wriggle a bit for the crowd.’ He paused and sneered, ‘Crowd have to get their money’s worth.’ And he turned away, starting to whistle something that sounded like a marching tune, a tune to march us to our deaths.

- End of Extract -

aBOUT THE aUTHOR

This is Alex Mellanby’s third novel in the Tregarthur's Series. Alex has given up any pretence of doctoring except to over-diagnose his own hypochondriacal illnesses. The series has been inspired by the wild wet Dartmoor. But with his children and grandchildren resident in Australia, that fantastic environment and history had to be part of this book.

www.tregarthurseries.com

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