Page 2 of The Armor of Light

The four labourers got behind the cart and pushed. Their feet slipped on the wet path. The muscles of Harry’s shoulders rippled. Sal, who was as strong as any of them, joined in. So did little Kit, which made the men smile.

The wheels shifted, the mare lowered her head and leaned into the traces, the whip cracked, and the cart moved. The helpers fell back and watched as it headed up the slope. But the mare slowed, and Will yelled back: ‘Keep pushing!’

They all ran forward, put their hands on the tail end of the cart, and resumed. Once again the cart picked up speed. For a few yards the mare ran well, powerful shoulders straining against the leather harness, but she could not keep up the pace. She slowed, then stumbled in the slippery mud. She seemed to regain her footing, but she had lost momentum, and the cart jerked to a halt. Will lashed the beast, and Sal and the men heaved with all their might, but they could not hold the cart, and the high wooden wheels began to turn slowly backwards.

Will hauled on the brake handle, then they all heard a loud crack, and Sal saw the two halves of a snapped wooden brake pad fly off the left rear wheel. She heard Ike say: ‘Itoldthe bugger, Itoldhim.’

They pushed as hard as they could, but they were forced backwards, and Sal had a sick feeling of imminent danger. The cart picked up speed in reverse. Will yelled: ‘Push, you lazy dogs!’

Ike lifted his hands from the tail and said: ‘It won’t hold!’ The horse slipped again, and this time she fell. Parts of the leather harness broke, and the beast hit the ground and was dragged along.

Will jumped down from the seat. The cart, out of control now, started to roll faster. Without even thinking, Sal picked up Kit with one arm and jumped aside, out of the path of the wheels. Ike shouted: ‘Everyone out of the way!’

The men scattered just as the cart swerved then turned over sideways. Sal saw Harry crash into Ike and they both fell. Ike tumbled to the side of the track, but Harry fell in the path of the cart, and it landed on him with the edge of the heavy oak flatbed on his leg.

That was when he screamed.

Sal froze, cold fear gripping her heart. He was hurt, badly hurt. A moment went by when everyone stared, horrified. The turnips from the cart rolled across the ground, and some of them splashed into the stream. Harry cried hoarsely: ‘Sal! Sal!’

She shouted: ‘Get the cart off him, come on!’

They all got their hands to the cart. They lifted it off Harry’s leg, but its rise was made difficult by the big wheels, and she realized they had to raise it onto the wheel rims before they could roll it upright. ‘Let’s get our shoulders under it!’ she yelled, and they all saw the sense of that. But the wood was heavy, and they were pushing against the upward slope of the hill. There was a terrible moment when she thought they were in danger of dropping the cart, and it would fall back down and crush Harry a second time. ‘Come on, heave!’ she shouted. ‘All together!’ and they all said: ‘Heeave,’ and suddenly the cart tipped over and came upright, its far wheels landing with a crash.

Then Sal saw Harry’s leg, and she gasped in horror. It was flattened from thigh to shin. Fragments of bone stuck out of his skin, and his breeches were soaked with blood. His eyes were closed and a terrible moaning sound came from his half-opened lips. She heard Uncle Ike say: ‘Oh, dear God, spare him.’

Kit began to cry.

Sal wanted to cry too, but she controlled herself: she had to get help. Who could run fast? She looked around the group and her eye lit on Annie. ‘Go to the village, Annie, as fast as you can, and fetch Alec.’ Alec Pollock was the barber-surgeon. ‘Tell him to meet us at my house. Alec will know what to do.’

‘Keep an eye on my children,’ said Annie, and she set off at a run.

Sal knelt at Harry’s side, her knees in the mud. He opened his eyes. ‘Help me, Sal,’ he said. ‘Help me.’

‘I’m going to carry you home, my dear love,’ she said. She got her hands under him but, when she tried to take the weight and lift his body, he screamed again. Sal pulled back her hands, saying: ‘Jesus, help me.’

She heard Will say: ‘You men, start putting the turnips back in this cart. Come on, look lively.’

She said quietly: ‘Someone shut his mouth before I shut it for him.’

Ike said: ‘What about your horse, Mr Riddick? Can she get up?’ He went around the cart to look at the mare, distracting Will’s attention from Harry. Sal thought: Thank you, clever Uncle Ike.

She turned to Annie’s husband, Jimmy Mann, the owner of the three-cornered hat. ‘Go to the timber yard, Jimmy,’ she said. ‘Ask them to quickly knock up a stretcher with two or three wide boards that we can carry Harry on.’

‘On my way,’ said Jimmy.

Will called: ‘Help me get this horse up on its legs.’

But Ike said: ‘She’s never going to stand again, Mr Riddick.’

There was a pause, then Will said: ‘I think that might be right.’

‘Why don’t you fetch a gun?’ said Ike. ‘Put the beast out of its misery.’

‘Yes,’ said Will, but he did not sound decisive, and Sal realized that underneath his bluster he was shocked.

Ike said: ‘Have a mouthful of brandy, if you’ve got your flask about you.’

‘Good idea.’