The General's Answer to James (alternate
version)
The next morning James arose
well rested and ready to meet any challenges he should face. He dressed with
care and then breakfasted quickly before attending to the most pressing estate
matters. By eleven o'clock he had discharged all his duties and was upon the
Sidfords' imposing doorstep, ringing the bell . . .
Before he had time to blink the
doormat dropped away beneath him, and as he fell he felt something tighten
around his ankles, and he was spun upside down as his descent was arrested by
the slipknot that bound his feet. Blood rushed to his head, and he blinked up
at the shaft of light coming in through the opening above as a panel was slid
across to seal him in. He was about to yell when he heard something to his
left. He looked over and saw flint being struck into a torch, and as the flame
took, recognised Emily's father. He was dressed in labourer's pants and lacked
a shirt to hide his hairy torso. For a man of his age, however, he was
surprisingly solid. James never would have guessed it. He smiled pleasantly and
tried an upside-down bow. "I see you understand the reason for my visit, sir."
Old man Sidford stepped up to
James' dangling form, then smote James in the face with the sputtering torch. "Aye,
I do. There's not an action taken on this property that I don't know of.
James choked momentarily on the
blood that was filling his upended nostrils, and spat out a tooth and a half.
"Truly, sir, I do think you should reconsider. I am a more than reasonable
match for your daughter."
Sidford took James' docile
wrists and began looping them in bailing twine. "You'll have to do better to
prove your worth, lad. Did Emily ever tell you about Jonah?"
James coughed out a thin spray
to clear his airway, and wheezed "Jonah, sir?"
Old Sidford tied James' wrists
fast to an iron ring set in the dirt floor, then lifted his torch to the far
wall where a skeleton hung from manacles by the wrists. Several of the ribs
were broken, and the legs were broken off at the thigh. While James was taking
this all in, Sidford lashed out and kicked him straight on in the stomach, then
belted him once in each side with the torch. James tried to double over, but
only pulled his bonds until they cut into his flesh. He could feel where the
torch had burned through his shirt.
"Jonah though he was good enough
too, swore he was, but after only three days was begging for his life." He
paused to jab James in the chest with the torch, leaving it against his body
for a few seconds, then kicked the flames out as James' shirt caught fire. "Now
what kind of resolve is that? The man who marries my daughter must be willing
to put her before himself in any situation."
James was having trouble
breathing, not to mention following the conversation, and was shocked that
Emily had neglected to tell him of Jonah. To have one's intended father-in-law
show some temper was to be expected, but to have one's intended wife hide a
past love, that was reprehensible. However, he had greater concerns at the moment.
He swallowed to prevent choking again, then wheezed out in gasps between fat
lips, "I implore you sir, only give me a chance and I will prove myself worthy.
I assure you I will do everything in my power to..."
James was cut off by a boot to
the skull, which knocked him cold. Sidford grumbled in frustration and sloshed
a bucket of stale water over the limp James, but when this had no effect, he
muttered something about soft lower country gentry, and left via the cellar
door.
James woke with a start to find
himself cold, soaked, and aching all over. He could feel more broken teeth now
with his tongue, and couldn't breathe through his nose at all. There wasn't so
much as a trace of light, and at the recollection of having swallowed so much
of his own blood, vomited profusely, only to have it dribble down his face and
into his hair. His hands and feet were numb, and he couldn't move any part of
his body. He needed a plan. He began to wriggle, to see how much play he had,
when he felt something drop past him and slip past his fingers to the dirt
below. Of course, his boot knife! It was ungentlemanly to carry such a rough
tool, but he found it useful in the course of his duties to have a blade on
hand, and had taken to carrying one in just such a concealed manner. If he
could only reach it. He strained his body as long as it would go, trying to get
some circulation back in his hands, when he slipped straight out of his boots
and tumbled to the floor. Oh, bless Gabriel Oak and his oversized boots! These
had been a gift, and had been crafted by a cobbler favoured by Oak. James
fumbled in the dark for his knife, then cut his hands free and felt the blood
rush back into his fingers. He crammed his feet back in his boots and lay
sprawled on the floor. His head ached, his body was stiff with cramps and
bruises, and he was dizzy from being upside sown for so long and nauseous from
the smell of blood and vomit. He tried to relax and clear his head. There was
no way to tell when the general would return, and he had to be ready. Knife in
hand, James crawled to the first wall he came to, then eased himself onto his
feet and followed it slowly to his left, feeling for the door. Instead his hand
bumped into something smooth and dry which fell to pieces and fell from the
wall to his feet as he explored it. Jonah's skeleton! How could that blasted
girl have hidden this man from her? But now was not the time for such worries.
Besides, surely she had some explanation. Best not to worry until he had heard
her tell it. Then he could worry as much as he deemed necessary. Until then,
Jonah was likely to be his only ally.
"Sorry, old boy, but I need your
help on this one. You were obviously someone important to Emily, so I think I
can trust you." He bent down and felt through his love's old suitor's remains
until he found what was likely a humerus. It was light, but of a decent length,
and had a solid knob at one end. All there was left to do was find the door and
wait. Unfortunately, before the door could be found, it was opened. The sudden
light blinded James, bur he launched himself in the direction of the
illumination. Old Sidford's military training, however, was sufficient to
deflect the blind attack. James lashed out with bone and blade savagely, but
his assault found no purchase. General Sidford ducked Jonah's arm and dealt
James a jarring blow to the ribs.
"Good effort boy, but not good
enough. And to think I had hope for you." Sidford took the torch in both hands
and swung with all his might in a downward stroke at James's already battered
head with sufficient force to stove it in like a pumpkin under a cart wheel,
but James, anticipating such a manoeuvre, dropped to his knees and reached for
the source of the light with his blade, taking the general in the thigh. In his
alarm at the landing of such a swift strike, Sidford dropped the torch and
bellowed. James, sensing the opportunity, swung Jonah's humerus into his
desired father-in-law's knee, then tackled him through the doorway. With the
torch behind him, his vision cleared, and he delivered such a flurry to the
general's face and throat that he broke both his own hands in the process, and
fell over from sheer exhaustion. The general, relieved of this weight, rolled
on his side and coughed up a few teeth of his own. Seeing that the father of
his love still breathed, James deftly slid off one of his own boots, and
raising it high between his bloody, twisted fists, prepared to pummel this man
while he could still draw breath. He was about to grant Emily her inheritance
when her father cried out and held a defensive arm over himself.
"Enough! I concede! You may have
her."
James dropped his boot in
surprise.
"Any man who can defend himself
so is worthy of my daughter's affections. Please, help me to my feet."
And so James helped General Sidford up, and the two of them, limping and leaning on each other for support, stumbled through the darkness and up to the house, where they discussed the necessary arrangements over a glass of brandy and a cup of tea.
© 2003 Copyright held by the author.