CHAINS TO FREEDOM.✔

Chapter Three

When Louis entered the house, he shook the water from his cloak and hung it on its hook. His cook Mary was at the table. He walked toward the wood stove, rubbed his hands together above the heat and looked over at her. "Mary. The Magistrate's Muster Master is on the ridge with a line of convicts. I'd say we have a short time to prepare. Can you manage some broth, bread and potatoes to feed them?"

"Yes, Master. Will ye require an extra place to be set at ye table, Sir?"

Louis's face was grim as he nodded. "Yes, Mary. I'm afraid so."

Mary set to work. Her aging hands pushed hard into the dough she was kneading. The sleeves of her blouse were rolled up on her shoulders and the loose skin on her arms luffed like a sail from the force of her movements. She was no longer young, a woman of fifty, short and plump with greying hair and a stern face. She had been with Louis for two years and was always eager to please him.

Louis returned to his office where he intended to resume his work but his mind wandered back to Alice and the help she would need when her baby arrived. Possibly, when the weather cleared, he would travel to Hobart Town and see if there was a suitable convict to assist her. He glanced out of the window once again. The rain had eased. George, another convict, was crossing the courtyard with an armload of sacking. His progress hindered by a limp. Louis watched the leg. Its stiff movements like a hammer steadily driving a nail into place. Louis knew it concealed his past. He smiled as he watched George and remembered the week's wages he'd won.

Louis pushed through the crowd to where Daniel was waving frantically at him. The warehouse was hot. Standing room only. Smoke hung thick in the air. Lanterns blazed. The ring was in shadows. People pushed and jostled for the best spots to view the fight. Scuffles broke out. The crowd was mainly men, with a few women. A big man was waiting in the middle of the ring; naked to the waist, his head shaven clean.

The crowd booed and hissed. "Reaper! Reaper! George The Reaper! We want Reaper!" They beat on tin drums and clapped to the rhythm of the chant.

"Jesus Christ, Louis, where have you been?" Daniel shouted above the noise of the crowd.

"Father wouldn't let me leave until the ship was loaded."

"He's been working you hard lately. Why's that do you think?" Daniel grinned and laughed heartily.

Louis scowled, "Fuck you, Daniel!"

Daniel laughed harder at his brother's discomfort. "Well, I did try to warn you, Louis. Keep that pecker in your pants like I do and trouble won't find you!"

Louis grinned. "Yours is only kept there because no woman will offer to take it out for you."

It was Daniel's turn to scowl. Before he had a chance to answer, the crowd roared. The man they were waiting for stepped into the ring.

George wasn't a particularly tall man, perhaps five foot six. He was lean and strong. His reputation as a fair and clean boxer had grown larger than he.

Louis and Daniel, young men and keen boxers, had waited weeks to see this man fight. Now, at the sight of George, their enthusiasm dropped. They had expected to see someone much bigger. Looking at the two men in the ring, no-one in their right mind would have put their money on George.

The referee rang the bell. The noise in the warehouse fell silent. "In the blue corner we have the mighty Irishman Thomas "Bald" Beckman."

The crowd booed and hissed.

The referee continued. "Bald Beckman weighs in at 280 pounds and measures six foot, two inches. His record stands at seven wins from nine bouts."

The noise of the crowd drowned out the referee's voice.

"What do you say, Daniel? Do you want to place a wager on our man?" Louis yelled in his brother's ear.

"Not likely, Louis! Look at the size of that other bastard. The Reaper has a grim chance."

"So you're saying he'll lose?" Louis grinned.

Daniel laughed. "Lose? He'll get fucking slaughtered!"

"I'll wager you a week's allotment he doesn't."

Daniel looked at his brother and held out his hand. "You're on, Louis. I won't mind taking your money."

A year ago George had come to them in chains, badly beaten, too sick to journey much further. He had been a government man for seven years. His record had not been favourable. Louis had been greatly rewarded. The spirit of that other man, that stalwart fighter was still there, buried under a different exterior.

As the story progresses you will get to know each character and why they ended up in Australia as a convict. Most of these poor people stole loaves of bread to feed their starving families or committed small crimes that we would blink an eye at these days. They suffered terrible hardships. I hope you enjoy these parts of the story. They will be in italics.

Thanks again for reading ♥

Photo copyright - Nottingham Post.

Copyright © 2018 Donna Fieldhouse. All rights reserved.