Page 172 of The King's Man
‘Please,’ the man said, and the sour stench of urine rose to Kit’s nostrils. Like most bullies, Outhwaite was a coward.
With one shove he pushed the man into the Hole and dropped the grate with a clang, turning the key in the padlock.
‘What about us?’ One of the Scots among the ranks of the chained prisoners called out.
If he turned them free he would have a riot on his hands and, he had no doubt, Outhwaite and his men would be dead before morning. He had no choice.
‘McPherson, choose four men you trust. The rest have to be confined.’
A roar of disapproval met that statement, but faced with the weapons ranged against them held by Kit, Thamsine and McPherson, none were quite brave enough to chance their luck.
McPherson understood the situation, and with the help of four of his former comrades in arms, they had the angry labour force padlocked into their cabins.
‘Make sure they get double rations,’ Kit ordered.
‘What about the others?’
‘Nothing.’
‘What now?’ Thamsine asked.
Kit sat down on the edge of one of the large cauldrons used for boiling the sugarcane. ‘We send word to Willoughby.’
Chapter 63
As night descended on the plantation, Kit and Thamsine sat with McPherson on the broad terrace that faced out to sea. A soft, warm breeze brought with it the scent of jungle and sea. Behind the house, angry men demanded to be set free. Kit had set McPherson’s men to guard the compound. It was a risk giving them weapons but he had no choice.
Thamsine had organised Clara and the other maids she had found cowering in the kitchens to clean John Pritchard’s room. The condition of the man shocked her. He had been lying in his own filth for days, if not weeks. It took a strong stomach to bathe him and treat the dreadful, suppurating sores.
One of the younger Scots had been dispatched to Holetown bearing a letter from Kit along with a copy of Daniel’s testimony. Nothing more could be done until Willoughby arrived, and now he had just one question to be answered. Where was his brother?
McPherson drew on a pipe he had liberated from Outhwaite’s room and expelled a satisfied grunt.
‘I’ve missed the tobacco,’ he said. ‘Now, I suppose you want to know what became of your brother?’
The stem of the clay pipe Kit held between his fingers snapped.
‘Is it true? Is he dead?’
McPherson removed the long stem of his pipe from his mouth and considered the question.
‘I dinna know,’ he said at last. ‘Daniel was in a bad position. He was still a prisoner, no better than I, so Outhwaite could do as he liked with him. While Pritchard was still in charge, Outhwaite couldn’t touch him, but when Pritchard was taken ill, it left Outhwaite in charge. For a while there he let Daniel alone. He needed the lad. I doubt Outhwaite can read or write, but when Daniel started to object to Outhwaite’s methods and the treatment of the labourers, Outhwaite became a wee bit nervous. There’d been a boy, Brodie. Outhwaite beat the boy to death. We all witnessed it, but Dan’l must have decided to go for help because Outhwaite moved on him. He had the lad flogged and locked in the Hole.’
Kit cleared his throat. ‘How long?’ he asked.
McPherson shook his head. ‘Best you dinna know. It were long enough that they took the boy for dead when they pulled him out.’
Thamsine grasped Kit’s hand.
Kit swallowed. ‘What did they do with him?’
‘Normal practice was to bury the dead in a burying ground behind the cabin, but there’d been a few too many deaths of late, so Outhwaite ordered his men to take the body into the jungle and dump it.’
Kit swore.
‘He said as it were a lesson that we were no better than animals and should be treated as such. Big on his lessons, Outhwaite.’
‘And was he dead?’ Thamsine asked the question that Kit could not find the words for.
