March 22nd, 1919 was an important date in my mental diary. Things happened on this day far more than the signs of new life pushing up through frigid ground as the earth threw off winter and embraced spring. It was Hazel's eighteenth birthday. Not even the threat of Mr Morris tearing me limb from limb could make me miss her birthday.Sadness and regret formed a swamp in my gut. That day she would leave her tower forever, having agreed to stay only until she reached this milestone. This would most likely be our last day together. I had promised to take her to the village, where she would be safe from roving vermin, until she decided on her course of action.It was early afternoon by the time I had finished my chores and then penned a note to Magda asking for hot water to wash. All the while, Ella and Alice twittered and laughed. Honestly, what was wrong with a fellow wanting to wash the sweat and dirt off before he visited a girl on her birthday?As I rode out, the other women stood b
I reached out and grasped Hazel by the shoulders. I gave a gentle shake to break the staring contest but she tried to swat me away. There were some advantages to being taller, and spending all day engaged in manual farm chores had finally put some muscle on my frame. I turned her and pointed out the window.At that point Mr Morris remembered why he had ran up the stairs. "You don't understand, love. Those things are outside the gate."Hazel and I kneeled on the window ledge and looked out. Below, in the approaching dusk, shuffled at least four of them. They stared at the thick door as though trying to remember how they worked. Push or pull?If they figured it out, they would swarm into the enclosure. We all stared at each other, realising there was one other person down there who didn't know what waited outside. Someone who couldn't ascend the steep tower stairs or run.Mrs Morris."Rachel!" Mr Morris screamed and ran for the door at the same time. His heavy boots and weight shook
Hazel followed my line of sight and glanced down at her mother's leg. Then she looked up to meet my horrified gaze. She shook her head, silencing me, not that there was anything to say, assuming I could say anything. My vocal cords had managed only two words in the past two years, and that rusty sound was only for Hazel's ears.I gestured to the trapped creatures and drew a line across my throat and then mimed lifting the head off. The vermin would keep struggling to free themselves and we needed to deal with them while they were still trapped."Father, Henry says you must remove the heads of these things to silence them forever." Hazel placed the fallen walking stick in her mother's hand, but kept an arm around the woman's shoulders.Mr Morris' eyes widened as he looked from the vermin stuck in a tree, one pinned to the roots through the side, and another back by the front door. That one was still trying to swim across the grass. I had a strong urge to go check on Phelps; with my l
PART ONE: Ella, the SlayerSomerset, England. Summer, 1919.I dream of a time when there was only one type of death.Mother died when I was ten years old. We buried her and packed away her clothing. Father and I mourned the empty space in our souls and at our table. Back then death only had one meaning: your life snuffed out, never to rekindle.After the Great War, we learned of a new type of death in the form of returned soldiers with fragmented minds. Doctors call it shell shock. Unable to grasp the horrors they saw or the deprivations they suffered, their chests rise and fall, but they have blank eyes?the windows to their souls have shattered, leaving thousands of shards that cannot be pieced together again. They follow the routine of their pre-war lives, but there is no spark within them.Then there are those who hover even closer to death?like father. Doctors removed the shrapnel in his head, but it left him with an irrecoverable brain injury. He sits in his chair by the wind
It was a hard ride to check the rest of the fence. Not because of terrain or interruptions, but because slaying a vermin always left me twitchy. I found it hard to sit still in the saddle. It seemed as though the maggots eating their dead flesh had burrowed into me and were squirming under my skin. With each step the mare took, my adrenaline levels fizzed higher. Strange really, I held perfectly calm while doing the deed. It was only afterwards that it slammed into my body. I needed to steal a few moments of peace to practice with my sword. The slow rhythm of a tai chi form would settle my mind and allow the adrenaline to dissipate.We finished our route, checking not just our fences, but also those of our closest neighbours. Our flock of sheep grazed peacefully, unaware of the vermin that had tested the fences under the cover of darkness. Lambs frolicked and grew and would soon be sold to the butcher. I had no idea why the vermin rarely disturbed the livestock, but at least I didn't
The horse's shoes rang out on the cobbles and the horses in the barn called out in greeting. Blasted horses! So much for sneaking back so no one knew I was late. Alice rushed from the back door and was at my side as I dismounted."Where have you been? You were gone so long I was getting worried." She grabbed me by the arm and hauled me closer. My collar was pulled back and my neck inspected, then she pushed up my sleeves to check my arms. Inspection over, she sighed and let me go. "She's in a right state that her scones are late and is most insistent that you must serve them. She made me take the tray back to the kitchen and come find you."I held in the sigh. Of course, she'd want me to curtsey and serve her tea; there was less sport in lording her superior position over Alice. "Sorry, I found a vermin that had tried to crawl under the wire last night, and it was trapped. I had to dispatch it and needed time alone after." Probably best not to mention that I nearly gave the new Duk
Another day dawned and our routine stayed the same, locked in an endless cycle of work. Alice and I donned our grey dresses and white aprons, and then proceeded to get them dirty sweeping out the fire grates. Except as I worked, something about the day felt different. Perhaps the summer breeze seemed a little warmer as I stood outside and watched the sun climb over the horizon. A glorious watercolour of reds, pinks, and oranges splashed across the sky and brought a moment of peace into my soul. The very air seemed sweeter this morning. Or perhaps the encounter with a handsome soldier who rode the countryside in search of his duchess lightened my mood.Upstairs, I crept across the room on the balls of my feet as soft snoring came from the lump under the pink satin coverlet. Grabbing the heavy damask curtain, I snapped it across to flood the bedroom with sunlight. Once this had been my room, but when father went off to war, Elizabeth relocated me to Alice's room tucked up under the roof
The next day, I stood in the kitchen and watched a remarkable sight. Alice wheedled, which should have been an entirely unattractive state for a woman. Except with her large eyes with their unusual amber ring and the soft ruffling of chocolate curls around her face, she came across as adorable. An adorable wheedler?that should be an oxymoron. She could probably stop vermin in their tracks with that look, and I briefly wondered about testing the theory out. Being staked out on the fence line would serve her right for wheedling."Please." Another bat of the eyes lashes. Well played, Alice. "It's my day off, and it should darn well be yours too. I'll not leave you to mope around the house for them to prey upon."It would be nice to escape for a few hours, to forget about the daily worries even if it were to play third wheel to Alice's plans. She saw me wavering."You simply have to come as chaperone, or I cannot meet Frank."That drew a laugh. "It's 1919. Some women now have the vote and