Page 11 of A Fire in Their Hearts

‘Are you hurt?’ asks Mother, suddenly hugging me and taking charge.

Every single inch of my body hurts but I’m not ‘hurt’ in the way she means so I shake my head. She hugs Hamish and checks with him as if he was another son.

‘If Andrew goes with you, can you make it back to your family? They should know as soon as possible that you’ve returned and will be better able to care for you.’

Hamish nods and my father fetches his coat, plus another that he puts over my friend’s shoulders.

Hamish looks at me in parting and I see such pain and grief in his eyes .

.?. aged eyes. Yes, no one will call us ‘boys’ any more.

Part of me wishes they would, that we were the lads who left home only a few weeks ago.

How could we change so much in such a short time?

‘Let Violet see that Hamish is all right, then bring her back here, Andrew. The girl won’t rest until she’s with Samuel and she’ll be the best medicine he can have.’

As soon as they’re gone, my mother issues a stream of orders to Calum, who so far hasn’t come near me. I can’t blame him for that.

‘Heat water in the copper pot and get that stew reheated. Samuel, I’ve got to strip these wet, filthy clothes off you and check you over. You’re covered in blood. Is any of it yours?’

I can’t answer. Most of it belongs to men I’ve slaughtered.

In that moment I realise what I stink of – death.

That’s what frightens Calum. It’s the stench of death upon me.

She doesn’t wait for a reply and takes me nearer the fire before gently removing items until I stand as naked as the day I was born.

With a cloth and some hot water Mother begins to tenderly wipe away the filth.

Calum soon has to take the basin outside to empty and refill with hot water from the pot.

I’m covered in bruises, scratches and cuts.

There’s a gash on my back, which may have come from a musket ball.

My mother’s still removing soil from this when the door bursts open and Violet rushes in, out of breath and crying.

She stops dead at the sight of me. There’s a moment of stillness and silence until Mother takes control.

‘Clean his face, Violet, then you can see more clearly the person you love.’

Violet gets a cloth and starts to wipe my cheeks and ears, my eyes and brow.

She doesn’t speak even as she wipes away my tears.

They keep falling. Calum helps by emptying muddy water outside and refilling the basin.

When the two women have done what they can, Mother wraps a blanket about my middle and sits me in a chair by the fire.

‘Violet, feed him some of that stew. I want to see to this gash and a few of the cuts.’

Father hasn’t yet returned. Violet feeds me.

Tears continue to blur my vision. Now and again, she wipes them away with the back of a finger.

Mother is behind me, applying honey on the worst of my injuries.

When she’s satisfied no more can be done, she carefully wraps another blanket around my shoulders.

For days the horrors of Rullion Green have been patrolling around the edges of my mind, only kept at a distance by the all-consuming need to reach safety.

Now they’re overwhelming my defences. I can’t get the image of that boy out of my head .

.?. his face as I drove the spike into his chest .

.?. pushing so hard he was flung into the man behind him.

Violet quietly puts the bowl down and takes hold of one of my hands. Father’s returned and stands with Calum near the door. Mother goes over to them. I can’t hear what they’re saying. It’s about me, though. They don’t want me to know.

The boy said—

‘It’s all right, Samuel,’ says Violet. ‘No one will hurt you here.’

‘ Please .’ That’s what he said, even before the wicked rusty metal pierced his jerkin.

‘ Please .’ I drove it further in, beyond skin and muscle and bone and hope.

‘ Please .’ He kept repeating the word, even at the end when he was almost dead.

Above all of the other sounds of battle, the shouts of fury, the cries of pain, the clash of weapons, I could hear him.

He’s still saying it. In my head he’s still saying it.

‘Whatever you’ve done was for the glory of God,’ says Violet.

How can I explain that there was no glory? That I never saw God amongst the guts, blood and waste that were so mixed up with hate and terror. It was as though our bodies and our emotions couldn’t be separated .?.?. they all sank together into the dirt to be trodden upon.

‘Please.’

‘What is it, my love?’ says Violet. ‘What can I get you?’

‘PLEASE!’

Mother comes over. ‘Violet, Samuel needs you more than he needs us. You’ll stay the night?’

‘Of course.’

‘Let’s get him bedded down here in front of the fire. It’s all right, son. You’ll be better after a while at home. It’s the shock of everything that’s happened to you.’

‘PLEEEAASE!’

‘I know, son. I know. Look, Violet will cradle you and you couldn’t be safer than in her arms. Let’s get you together.’

They lay me on the floor with blankets and Violet lies with me.

My mother tucks us up like children as I nestle into the body I’ve loved for so long .

.?. like I used to do on top of the hill, before one stranger’s obsession for power affected all our lives.

Why can’t we be as we were then? I would draw her picture and explain how her long black hair moves in the breeze. We were so in love and happy.

I’ll never know that peace of mind again.