Unheard Voices by Malorie Blackman

Author:Malorie Blackman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Random House Children's UK
Published: 2007-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Mary was not there yet. Nobody was – not even the horses – for they had been moved the day before to another stable on the other side of the estate. Only the blacksmith’s tools remained. Tools? It was then that he finally made up his mind to run. His mistress had always cared for him, or so he had thought. But something had changed, and for the first time since leaving Jamaica he was truly afraid. Yes, he must run. The silver collar would have to go. He picked up an iron file and tried to unpick the lock.

‘Going somewhere, boy?’ a voice hissed behind him.

He dropped the file, spun round and came face to face with Thomas.

‘John sent me to find you. Got lost on your way to the kitchens? I followed you – wanted to know what you were up to. Never trusted your kind! You’re the Devil’s child! That’s what Father Grey says every Sunday in church, and he’s right!’ Thomas spat at Scipio’s feet and took a menacing step towards him.

Scipio did not reply. His eyes searched for a means of escape; but there was none.

‘Trying to run away, boy? You won’t get far. Besides, master’s got plans for you. Where are your airs and graces now? Coming over here and lording it over us. Well, I’m going to teach you a lesson . . .’ He picked up a hammer and took another step towards Scipio.

Scipio picked up the iron file, ready to defend himself.

Thomas laughed. ‘I’m going to enjoy this—’ However, he was halted in mid sentence by a wooden bucket crashing down on his head. Both he and the hammer collapsed onto the stone floor.

‘Always wanted to do that.’ It was Mary with a look of triumph on her face.

Scipio slumped to the floor.

‘No time to rest. You’ve to go!’ She took the iron file from him and pushed it into the collar’s lock. After a few minutes there was a sharp click and the collar clattered to the floor.

Scipio clutched his throat. It burned and felt sore. He began to rub it.

‘Gently.’ Mary looked at his neck. ‘It’ll hurt for a while; but it’ll heal. Put this on it.’ She gave him a piece of cloth. It was one of her ladyship’s cotton handkerchiefs; it was slightly damp.

‘I can’t take this,’ he protested.

‘Don’t worry. She has many. She’ll not miss one – trust me. Get out of those clothes.’ She handed him a pair of grey breeches and a loose brown sackcloth.

Scipio fumbled his way out of his blue velvet suit. The new clothes smelled of horses and scratched his skin.

‘Hurry,’ said Mary. ‘Take this too,’ and she handed him a small bundle. ‘Food for the journey. It’s all I could get. One more thing.’ She bent over the unconscious Thomas, removed his overcoat and gave that to Scipio as well. He took it reluctantly; it smelled of Thomas.

‘It’s a little big, but it’ll keep out the cold,’ she said.

‘But Mary, where shall I go?’ he asked in a small voice.

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