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Bed bugs. Bed bugs. Bed bugs.
Those horrible little creatures which attacked you unawares when
you were sound asleep with the result that you woke to the agony
of itching all over. An itching which was impossible to ignore.
An itching which led to a final surrender to a fierce bout of
scratching which resulted in the inevitable raised sores which
itched much worse than the original.
"God bless bed bugs," Ely thought happily to herself
as she walked down the High Street one fine spring morning in
1683.
That morning Ely was feeling positively benevolent towards towards
"the dancing gentry of the night" as she had heard them
called. The reason for this was actually quite simple. Ely had
to thank the bed bugs for what was in effect an unexpected holiday.
Ely worked in an inn, the Grey Mare. It was on the Icknield
Way about a mile from Newmarket. The inn was at the foot of the
side of Warren Hill. Mrs Flatman, the owner of the inn, used to
boast, with some truth, that there was not a single bed bug in
her establishment. For this she thanked Ely's mother. Ely's mother,
Mrs Catling, was what was known as a cunning woman. In fact, in
earlier years she might even have been termed a "witch."
Be that as it may, Mrs Catling knew all about herbs and could
produce many creams, syrups, and poultices which could help and
even cure many common ailments.
She even had a special powder which could kill bed bugs.
The King was staying in Newmarket. He had come for the spring
races and every inn in the town was full. The previous day Mrs
Flatman had suddenly realised that her stock of the special powder
was nearly exhausted. She believed in waging a constant war against
the tiny creatures. She was not going to give them the chance
to gain a foothold in her inn and ruin her precious reputation.
There and then she had decided that Ely would go to her mother
the very next day and get a new supply of the precious powder.
Mrs Catling would probably have to make some more powder up, as
she did not keep much in stock. This would take time so Ely would
not be returning until the next morning.
So instead of slaving in the inn kitchen Ely had a whole day's
freedom in the spring sunshine.
Ely's mother lived by herself in a cottage along the Devil's Dyke,
a distance of about seven miles away, so Ely had a good walk in
front of her. But she did not mind. She was used to walking.
Ely came to the end of the High Street and set off across the
Heath.
The Heath was crowded. There were all kinds of carriages and gentlemen
on fine horses. Here and there were a few townspeople who had
slipped away from their daily duties. There were going to be races
that day.
Ely slowed down and looked around. Somewhere there would be the
King. Perhaps she would see him. After a while she gave up and
hurried on again. A mile further on she came to the little square
brick built rubbing house. As she passed it Will Pendle led out
a beautiful little colt. It was bright chestnut with a star on
its forehead.
Normally when Ely saw Will she would try to make an unobtrusive
escape. She knew that he fancied her but she did not like him
although none of the other girls could understand why. Most of
them considered Will quite handsome with his light brown hair
and startling blue eyes. Appearance apart, he had led such an
interesting life. Most of the townspeople of Newmarket had never
been more than a few miles from the town in their whole lives
but Will had travelled widely. He had actually been to London.
He had been there with the turkeys. Every year flocks of Norfolk
turkeys were driven to the London markets and Will had once been
a drover, but now he was a stable lad. But he was still able to
entrance people with his fascinating tales of the big city. Most
of the young girls in Newmarket hung on to every word.
Ely was the one exception. She hated Will's stories. Some of them
were so cruel.
The highlight of Will's London visits seemed to be a public execution
- not just an ordinary hanging, but the sight of a traitor being
hanged, drawn and quartered.
"First we saw him arriving at the place of execution. He
was on a hurdle being drawn by a horse. Then he was hanged and
while he was still alive....."
By this time Ely would have her hands over her ears and would
be running from the scene.
Will could not understand her attitude. He would laugh tolerantly.
"You're a funny little thing," he would say. "Why,
everyone enjoys a good hanging."
Ely privately thought Will a horrible monster and she tried to
avoid him whenever she could. To-day, however, things were different.
Will would be thinking first and foremost about his colt. She
could speak to him safely.
Ely did not know much about horses but she loved everything on
four legs. She gazed at the little colt in admiration. Will nodded
at her and indicated his charge.
"He goes like the wind," he said proudly.
"Is he going to win?" Ely asked.
Will's face clouded over. "He ought to. He's faster than
anything here to-day but...."
He hesitated and then continued. "He's so small and light
boned. He'll be all right if he manages to keep out of trouble
otherwise...."
His voice trailed off again, then he added. "Stick around
and you'll see what I mean."
Ely was puzzled. She did not know much about racing but she knew
that most races were matches, where only two horses raced against
each other. What then did Will mean by his horse "Keeping
out of trouble."
Will prepared to lead the colt away but at the last moment he
turned and said,
"Anyway I wouldn't put any money on him - unlike that prize
idiot of a brother of yours."
Ely gasped. "How much?"
Will named a sum. It came to three months wages. Ely was horrified.
Apart from the fact that betting was morally wrong how could her
brother be so stupid? Now she just had to see the race. She hurried
to find herself a place where she could see the finish. As she
waited she kept thinking about her brother.
Rob was a few years older than herself. He worked alongside Will.
He was very like Ely in appearance. Slightly built with reddish
fair hair and blue eyes, but very different from her in temperament.
Ely was like her mother. Neither of them had much, but they were
both satisified with the little they did have. Will on the other
hand took after his dead father. He was sullen and discontented.
The race started. The little colt led from the start. Ely watched
heart in mouth waiting for the other horse to catch him up. But
that did not happen. Instead the little colt increased his lead.
Then, as he was approaching the winning post, something incredible
happened. Some of the young gentlemen who were watching suddenly
urged their horses into a gallop and rode the last part of the
race alongside the contestants, shouting, waving and cheering
on their favourite and getting mixed up with the race.
Ely watched in horror. She could hardly believe her eyes.
A tall dark man on a big bay rode alongside the colt shouting
encouragement. Suddenly a grey cut across in front of the bay
which bumped into the colt. The colt stumbled and it was only
the skill of his jockey which kept him on his feet. But for him
the race was over.
Ely's brother had lost his money.
The normally even tempered Ely was absolutely furious - furious
with the dark man whose horse had cost the colt the race and furious
with her brother for his absolute stupidity. She suddenly realised
that her brother was standing next to her.
"Did you see that?" he snarled.
Ely gazed at her brother speechless.
Rob spoke more quietly. "You know who that was? That man
on the bay who cost me the race?"
Ely shook her head.
"Why, the King himself. His Majesty, King Charles II. Our
precious monarch."
Ely shuddered at the bitterness in Will's voice. She shook her
head, desperately trying to quieten him.
"But I'll get my money back from him. See if I don't."
"I've got to go."
Frightened Ely hurried away. Ely did not know much about such
matters, but such talk was probably treasonable. Had anyone heard
him? Probably not. All attention had been on the winning horse.
Then Ely had another thought. What had her brother meant when
he said that he was going to get his money back from the King?
He had spoken with conviction. As if he had some plan in mind.
As if he was planning revenge.
That was bad enough to start with. Revenge was always wrong. Ely's
thoughts at once went to Mrs Venner who helped in the Grey
Mare. She knew what she would have said,
"'Vengeance is mine,' sayeth the Lord.'"
But Rob was not just talking about revenge on an ordinary person.
He was talking about revenge on the KING.
The day was spoiled for Ely. She no longer noticed the spring
sunshine. She hurried on her way.
Published by Castle of Dreams, 1997. Copyright Mary S Moffat, 1997
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