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The cart jostled down the dirt path between their small village, heading to the market town of Buntingford. Jennifer sat with her nerves in a bundle with Katrina at her side. Katrina was prattling on and on about Jennifer's trip to London. For Katrina, it was some grand adventure, but for Jennifer it was desperate measures.
“You are so lucky, Jenny. I would do anything to do what you are doing. I have a mind to escape from Papa when he is not looking and come with you. Oh, what a grand adventure you shall have,” Katrina said, playing with her sandy blonde braids.
“It is not like that Katrina. I would not be doing this unless I absolutely had to. I need to. You are very lucky to have both your parents and a thriving dairy farm, even if it is small. This is not something that you should wish to do. Yes, it is somewhat exciting to finally be able to see London, but finding work is terrifying. Going out on my own is terrifying; it is quite dangerous out there. Even though it also could be dangerous in our own village,” Jennifer thought about her run-in with the butcher, and chills ran down her back.
“Yes, I suppose. But do not worry. My family will look after yours, and I will take Adam under my wing as promised. Besides, it is only a few months and you will be back and have grand stories to tell me of London. Do bring me something, perhaps a ribbon? Or some other London trinket.”
“I shall try,” Jenny said. She was glad that her friend thought that this was a grand adventure and nothing more. For she could not handle any talk of pity on her part. She could not handle that, especially not from someone younger than she was.
“There it is, we have made good time. It is still very early morning; that will be good for your walk down the old Roman Road.” Katrina said, pointing to the horizon. The bustling market town of Buntingford spread out wide. Jenny had never been to the town herself, and she thought it was quite grand. Once more, she was envious of her friend that she was able to come enjoy such a place once a month.
Jennifer felt her stomach become very nervous as they grew closer. It was almost time for her to take that step. Take a step and be out on her own. Was I truly ready? Would I become a coward the moment that I set out on my own and turn back and catch a ride with the Proctors back home?
They entered the town. It was very loud as farm carts and merchants carts were wheeled about, taking their place along the road to park and show their goods. It was lively. It smelled of food in the air, and somewhere in the distance Jennifer could hear music playing; some sort of stringed instrument. Market day was looking very lively indeed.
“Good Day Katrina Proctor!” A young lad in a passing cart shouted and waved at her.
Katrina shouted back. “Good day Young Garrett!”
she laughed, and Jennifer could tell that even though she only came once a month, she had many acquaintances that to seemed to already know her in this town, and like her. But what was there not to like about Katrina? She was very lively and joyful. Jennifer would be the same, if she had the same upbringing as her, without a care in the world and very taken care of.
“Whoa,” Mr. Proctor said bringing the horse to a halt. He had parked the cart in between two other carts who were selling baked goods. Jennifer knew it was very smart of him to park his cheese cart next to the bread.
They all unloaded from the cart. Mr. Proctor came over to face Jennifer. He had a very worried look on his face.
“I do not know how I feel about this, Jenny. Your father would kill me if he knew I was allowing you to go alone, taking the old Roman Road to London. It is not right.”
“So you have said, Mr. Proctor. You are very good to say so, but indeed it will be fine. It is only for a few months, and I am sure that I shall find a ride for most of the way and it not be too long of a walk. It is but a 10-hour walk or so to London, not long at all. But with the short days of light approaching, I will need to stop just one night, and then find myself in London the very next day. I have money to pay for lodging until I find a space in a workhouse. I can assure you, I will be fine. Though I do thank you for your worry, it is most kind,” Jennifer said.
He shook his head, and scratched his dirty blonde mop. Jennifer thought for a moment he was going to deny her departure. He grabbed her hand and dropped five pence in it. “ If I could spare more I would. We will look after your mother and brother as much as may be. Use this to buy food and lodging where you might. Do right as soon as you are settled,” He said and pulled her in for a big hug. She fought back tears. Of course Mr. Proctor reminded her of her own father, considering that they were good friends of about the same age. But she could not show weakness or tears; he would not let he go if she did. Jennifer pulled away from the hug.
“I will write. Thank you. I should get going as soon as may be, sunlight is important.” She gestured off toward the distance.
He nodded his head. “It is that way down the old Roman Road. It leads straight to London; do not stray off that path, girl. There is an inn called the Hertfordshire Inn, five hours south. You can take lodging in a shared room for one-and-a-half pence for the night. You may even befriend a traveller heading into London and offer them some pence for a spot in their carriage or cart. It is always worth the asking.”
She smiled, grateful for his insight. “Thank you, Mr. Proctor.”
“Oh friend, I shall miss you greatly. Do write to me,” Katrina gave a long lingering hug. Once again Jennifer had to pull from it to keep from shedding a tear.
“Goodbye all,” Jennifer waved as she walked away, heading toward the old Roman Road that would lead to London.
It was a very long bustling road and with it being market day, it was very busy. Jennifer did not feel in danger at all. In fact, she felt like she was walking through her own village, except it was much grander. Even once she was past the row of buildings and heading out toward the countryside, there were many carts and wagons heading to the market as well as people on foot. Therefore, she was not alone at all.
Jennifer walked for some two hours before the traffic gave way to just a cart or a few passers every now and then. That was when she began to grow a little nervous indeed. Though she walked in the country alone quite often, it was often near her own village. Anyone she passed was not a stranger, but someone that she knew or knew of.
The sun was growing lower on the horizon. It would be dark soon, and the Hertfordshire Inn was not in sight. Worry gripped her like a cold grasp. She needed to reach it before dark.; it was absolutely necessary. Squinting her round green eyes down the road, she could not see anything but wilderness to one side, and pastures to the other.
There was a large outcropping of boulders to her left. She quickly scurried up, climbing on top to get a better view. If she just knew that the lights of the Inn were up ahead then she would feel better.
Getting a better view from the top, she still could not see the Inn or any other establishments. There were no buildings as far as the eye could see. What she could see was that the road curved to the left, going around a large patch of wilderness and appearing on the other side of it. Straight ahead in the wilderness there was a path, as though those that knew the way would cut across the wilderness to make short work of the road, instead of going around the long way through the curve.
“That's what I will do,” she declared to herself as she climbed down. It would surely cut some time. Once she got around that bend, perhaps the Inn was just beyond the next hill.
She made straight away for the path in the wilderness, following it. But once she was under the tree canopy, it was much darker. Winter was far off, and that meant that this late summer bloom was providing the trees with much foilage, blocking out the majority of the sun coming off of the ever approaching sunset.
She walked fast. She needed too. Just keep going Jennifer; don't look around, just watch your feet. Keep going. You will get to the Inn and be in front of a nice warm meal, making friends and asking around for passage to London. It will all be well.
But it was not well. Jennifer had been paying attention to every step she took, as though to be careful, because the path had suddenly become very rough. She looked up and around; the path had forked off in three directions. It was then that she realized it was no path at all, but a dry creek bed. Panic arose inside of her. She looked ahead. Had she been travelling in a straight line? If so, then the road should be straight ahead, should it not?
But she could not see beyond the thick trees. She turned left and right, and found no sign of a clearing that would indicate the road. Had she mistakenly walked deeper into the woods instead of merely cutting across to the road?
The sound of an owl echoed. That was not a good sign to her. This definitely meant nightfall was making an appearance, and looking up at the sky she could only see a vague line of orange, for the sun was setting on the horizon.
No, no, no, you stupid girl. You should have stayed on the road as Mr. Proctor said. Now you are lost in the woods and night is fast approaching. Pick a path, you must.
She turned every which way, finally deciding to continue straight forward. Hopefully, it would lead in the right direction. Behind her, deep in the black of the woods, the sound of a twig snapped. With fright in her eyes, she quickly turned in a circle. Fear gripped her heart with an iron fist. But she did not wait to see the source of the sound; instead, she started running hard and fast. The heavy homemade carpet bag she carried did not help in her flight to escape. It felt heavier than ever as she darted through branches that tore at her dress.
“Ah!” her foot made a most disagreeable motion, twisting as she fell onto the cold ground. She found the culprit of her fall to be a deep hole, perhaps the burrow for some animal. You stupid girl.
With a trembling hand she wrapped her hand around her dainty ankle where a searing pain crawled up her leg. This cannot be good. Her green eyes scanned left and right, still waiting for the source of the snapping twigs to appear out of the dark. Perhaps it was a wild boar, coming to gouge her?
You cannot stay here. You must get up.
She tried her best to stand. “Ah!” The cry escaped her involuntarily.
“Who’s there?” A deep voice came from somewhere in the woods.
Her eyes grew wide. She covered her mouth with her hand, as her breath grew heavy in the restraint of her pain and panic. There must be bandits in these woods, they will find you and they will have their way with you, possibly even abduct you.
In that moment, the butcher flashed into her mind, and her stomach turned.
“I said, who goes there?”
She stayed silent. The sound grew closer.
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chapter
