Brave Enemies Read Online Free Page B

pulled her away. A man slapped her hard across the mouth, and I saw blood mixing with tears on her lips.
    â€œYou leave Mama be,” I yelled, and ran out into the lantern light before I thought. The men were surprised to see me. I ran to Mama but was pulled away by strong hands.
    â€œNext time your womenfolks won’t be able to save you,” Mr. Pritchard said. “Next time we’ll burn you out and kill all your household. Tonight we give you a stick, but next time it will be the rope.”
    He hit Mr. Griffin on the legs, and he hit him on the small of his back. He hit him on the backside and on his thighs, and Mr. Griffin screamed. Mr. Pritchard hit him a dozen times on the back and Mr. Griffin howled and pissed on himself.
    Mama sobbed. Her shawl had slid off her shoulders and been trampled by the men.
    Mr. Pritchard leaned over and shouted in Mr. Griffin’s ear, “Have you heard our message?”
    Mr. Griffin cried like a baby. He was sobbing so hard he jerked and couldn’t talk.
    â€œCat got your tongue?” Mr. Pritchard said, and hit him several times on the back so it bled even worse. Blood ran over Mr. Griffin’s shoulders and over his neck.
    â€œAre you going to scribble any more to the Tories?” Mr. Pritchard said. But Mr. Griffin was jerking so badly he couldn’t talk. All he did was shake his head.
    â€œAre you going to betray your neighbors again to the Crown?” Mr. Pritchard yelled.
    Mr. Griffin jerked his head but couldn’t speak. His legs and buttocks were covered with whelks and blood. Mr. Pritchard and the other men got on their horses and rode away, leaving us standing there.
    M UCH AS I HATED Mr. Griffin, my heart was softened after he was beaten so badly. Even if he had done such a thing, such a stupid thing as writing to the loyalists and giving the names and whereabouts of leaders of the militia, it still softened my heart to see a man hurt so badly he sobbed and shited on himself.
    Mama untied one of Mr. Griffin’s arms and I untied the other. Mr. Griffin’s back was a sight you didn’t want to look at. The stick had broken the skin in so many places it appeared raspberry jam had been smeared over his back and backside. His legs and thighs were swollen so much they looked broken. Mama and I had to drag him into the house for he could hardly walk. We dragged him to the bed in the corner of the front room, and he whimpered and mumbled as though he was out of his head. “Blackguard fools,” he whispered. We laid him on his belly on the bed.
    â€œIdiots, traitors, idiots,” he whimpered.
    Mama wasn’t at herself she was so scared and confused. She had forgotten all about Mr. Griffin locking me in the corncrib that evening. She stood with her face in her hands looking at Mr. Griffin’s awful back.
    â€œWill you do something, Josie?” she said. “Will you do something for Mr. Griffin?”
    â€œWe’re lucky they didn’t burn the house and kill us all,” I said.
    â€œWill you do something, Josie?” Mama said again.
    There was naught to do but get some salve we kept for sores and colds and rub it over Mr. Griffin’s wounds as best I could. He groaned and hollered out. I tore an old sheet and tried to bind the worst places, but his back and backside were all raw and open.
    I gave Mr. Griffin a drink of the medicine whiskey, and that was the best I could do. And then I remembered Mama had a little laudanum in a bottle from when she had the grippe. I mixed some drops of laudanum with the liquor, and after he drank that he slept. Mama sat up with Mr. Griffin the rest of the night.
    â€¢ • •
    Y OU NEVER SAW ANYBODY who felt as sorry for themselves as Mr. Griffin did. While he lay in bed he’d holler out and ask me to bring him tea or whiskey. He especially liked whiskey with a drop or two of laudanum in it. And he liked sweet things, sweet cordials and cakes, biscuits and