ELIZABETH SHORTLAND BUSTLED in ahead of Magrath. He slammed the door, then, from drawers and shelves, began to restock their medical bags. ‘Splints, gauzes, bandages, ligatures, tongs, a knife. That’s it,’ he said. ‘That’s all we take. And hurry.’ He handed her an armful of supplies.
‘George.’
‘Elizabeth, there’ll be time for this later. I know what I saw. I have to be a reliable witness.’
‘You know what Lane was like,’ she said. ‘He was an animal. Snow did what anyone would have done.’ She realized it sounded as though she was pleading. Maybe she was. ‘You’d have done the same, George,’ she said. ‘I’d have done the same.’
‘I can’t say I’m not conflicted, Elizabeth,’ he said. ‘I had hoped he might join the escape, but he did not. So there is still a man in Four with his stomach blown away by a pistol fired by Mr Snow, and I am a witness to that fact. However …’ He looked across to Elizabeth and swallowed hard. She knew his words would be forbidding, recognized his grim, businesslike countenance. ‘Elizabeth, I know an eve of battle when it comes along. I recognize it, I’ve seen so many. It was the same on the ships. The grievances, the posturing, the manoeuvres. Both sides want to fight. Shots have been fired already, and they are a harbinger, I believe, of what’s to come. We need to be ready for the whirlwind that is surely coming our way.’
‘I must talk to Thomas,’ she said, snapping her bag shut. ‘He won’t want a fight.’
‘Elizabeth, you are the last person he’ll talk to. Closely followed by me. You say he knows about us – very well, then. We’ll do what we can here, then there’ll be a reckoning for certain. But, for now, we have work to do.’
She stood against the door and closed her eyes. She saw Habakkuk Snow kissing Joe Hill then drinking the poison. She saw Aveline firing his pistol then running from the cockloft with her husband. She saw Willoughby, dressed in his Royal Navy finery, waving her farewell.
‘I must write to Willoughby, tell him what has happened.’
‘In due course …’
‘But before Thomas does.’
‘Elizabeth …’
A roar from the market square. Elizabeth pulled the door open. ‘I know, George. First, we survive today.’
‘And you go nowhere without an armed troop. Cobb has made his intentions clear. He’ll snatch you again if he can.’ Magrath made a last-minute check of his supplies. Satisfied, he took his new stick in one hand and his bag in the other. When he reached the door, he kicked it shut again. He leaned his forehead against hers.
‘The first time I saw battle injuries I vomited for two days,’ he said. ‘In the end, I sang to drown the frenzy and pain. Clean what you can, dress what you can. It’s all you can do.’
She kissed him, both hands cradling his face. ‘Then may God grant us strength,’ she said.