Barnes gripped me by the shoulder and pushed me out into the corridor, where Cobden had been lurking just out of sight, a heavy cudgel in his hand. No doubt he'd been hoping I'd try to run for it. The two men led me out through a rear door to where the cart was waiting. The constable's bailiffs were already sitting in the back, andthey both stared at me hard. One spat on my shirtfront as I struggled to climb aboard.Five minutes later we were through the main gates of Read Hall and heading for Goldshaw Booth and Malkin Tower beyond.When we reached the tower, Nowell wasn't alone. With him were five mounted soldiers wearing jackets of County red that, even before we reached the clearing, made them highly visible. As our cart trundled toward them, one rider dismounted and began to walk around the tower, peering up at the stone edifice as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.Cobden brought the cart to a halt close to the horsemen."This is Captain Horrocks," Nowell told Barnes, nodding at a stocky man with a ruddy complexion and a small, neat black mustache."Good morning to you, Constable," said Horrocks, then turned his gaze to me. "Well, is this the boy Master Nowell's been telling me about?""This is the lad," Barnes said. "And others like him are inside that tower."
"Don't you fear," said Captain Horrocks. "We'll soon breach that wall. The cannon -will be here at any moment. It's the biggest gun in the County, and it'll make short -work of the business! We'll soon call those scoundrels to account."That said, the captain wheeled his horse round and led his men in a slow circuit of Malkin Tower. The magistrate and Barnes followed.The following hours passed slowly. I was sick to my heart and close to despair. I had failed to rescue my family and had to accept that they -were probably being tortured or were dead inside that tower. There was no hope of Alice reaching me now, and soon I'd be on my -way to Caster -with any who managed to survive the bombardment of the tower. What hope did I have of a fair trial then?Late in the morning a huge cannon arrived, pulled by a team of six big shire horses. It was a long cylindrical barrelsupported on a gun carriage with two large wooden wheels rimmed with metal. The gun was brought into position quite close to our cart, and soon the soldiers had unhitched the horses and led them some distance away back among the trees. Next they began to attend to the gun, using a lever and ratchet to raise the cannon's mouth higher and higher until they were satisfied. Then they put their shoulders to the wheels and positioned the carriage so that the barrel was pointing more directly toward the tower.
Barnes rode back to us. "Get the boy down and take the cart back to where the others are," he instructed Cobden. "The captain says the horses are too near. The noise of the gun will drive 'em mad with fright."The two bailiffs dragged me down and made me sit on the grass while Cobden took the horses and cart and followed Barnes to join the others.Soon another cart arrived, this one loaded with cannon-balls, two big tubs of water, and a great heap of small canvas bags of gunpowder. All the gunners, bar thesergeant in charge, took off their red jackets, rolled up their sleeves, and set to unloading the cart, piling the ammunition carefully to form neat pyramids on either side of the gun. When the first tub of water was lifted down, the bailiff to my right joked, "Thirsty work, is it, lads?""This is to clean and cool the cannon!" one of the gunners called back, giving him a withering look. "It's an eighteen-pounder, this, and without the water it'd soon overheat and explode. You wouldn't want that to happen, now would you? Not with you sitting so close!"
The bailiff exchanged a look with his companion. Neither of them seemed at ease.The unloading completed, that cart was also taken back into the trees, and soon after that Captain Horrocks and Nowell rode close by, heading in the same direction."Whenyou're ready, sergeant!" Horrocks called down to the gunners as he cantered past. "Just fire at will. But take this chance to sharpen up your skills. Make every shot count. As likely as not, *we'll soon be up against a much more dangerous foe." As the two men rode out of earshot, the bailiff, undaunted by his previous exchange with the gunner, couldn't resist speaking up again. "Dangerous foe?" he asked. "What did he mean by that?""That's not really any of your business," the sergeant said with a swagger. "But since you ask, there's talk of an invasion south of the County. Chances are we'll have a more serious battle to fight than this little siege. But not a word to anyone, or I'll cut your throat and feed you to the crows." The sergeant turned away again. "Right, lads. Load up! Let's show the captain what we can do!"A gunner lifted one of the canvas bags and pushed it into the mouth of the cannon while his companion used a long rod to ram it down deep into the barrel. Another picked up a cannonball from the nearest pile and rolled it down into the barrel, ready for firing.
The sergeant turned our way again and spoke to the bailiff on my left, the one who'd kept silent. "Ever heard a big gun like this go off?" he asked.The bailiff shook his head. "Well, it's loud enough to burst your eardrums. You need to cover them like this!" he instructed, clapping his hands over his ears. "But if I were you, I'd walk back about a hundred paces or so. The lad won't be able to cover his ears, 'will he?" He looked at my wrists, still clamped apart by the wooden board."Bit o' noise won't matter much to this lad. Not where he's going. Murdered a priest, he did, and he'll hang before the month's out.""Well, in that case it won't do no harm to give him a small dose of hell to be going on with!" said the sergeant, staring at me with open disgust as he strutted back to the cannon and gave the order to fire. One of the soldiers lit a reed fuse protruding from the top of the gun and then stood well clear with his companions. As it burned lower, the gunners covered their ears and the two bailiffs followed suit.The noise of the cannon going off "was like a thunderclap right next to me. The gun carriage jerked back about four paces, and the shot hurtled through the air toward the tower, howling like a banshee. It fell into the moat, throwing up a spout of water as a great flock of crows soared out of the trees in the distance.
A cloud of smoke hung in the air about the cannon, and as the gunners went to work again, it was like watching them through a November fog.First they adjusted the elevation, then they cleaned the inside of the barrel with rods and sponges, which they kept dipping into the tubs of water. Eventually they fired again. This time the thunderclap felt even louder, but strangely I no longer heard the flight of the shot through the air. Nor did I hear it strike Malkin Tower. But I did see it hit the wall low down, throwing up splinters to shower back into the moat.How long this went on I couldn't say. At one point the bailiffs had a short conversation. I could see their lips moving, but I couldn't hear a word they were saying. The sound of the gun had deafened me. I just hoped it wouldn't be permanent. Smoke hung all around us now, and I had an acrid taste at the back of my throat. The pauses between firings grew longer and longer as the gunners spent more time using sponges on the barrel, which was no doubt starting to overheat.At last the bailiffs must have grown weary of being so close to the gun. They dragged me to my feet and walked me back a hundred paces, as the sergeant had advised. After that it wasn't so bad, and gradually, in the delays between firing, I reahzed that my hearing was coming back. I could hear the howl of the shot through the air and the crack of the iron ball striking the stones of Malkin Tower. The gunners knew their job, all right --each shot struck approximately the same point on the wall, but as yet I could see no evidence that it was being breached. Then there was another delay. They ran out of cannon-balls, and the wagon bringing a fresh supply didn't arrive until late in the afternoon. By then I was thirsty and asked one of the bailiffs for a drink of the water they were swigging from a stone jug brought by one of the soldiers.