Underwood and Flinch 7: Episode 15

Hello listeners, how are you? Well, I hope.

I just got back from a lovely holiday in Brighton, England. Funny how you can end up going on holiday to places where you used to live and go on holiday from. But I suppose it's all about getting away from it all, more than necessarily getting away from a place. We had a very nice time, the weather was good, we saw lots of old friends, we brought the dogs with us and they seemed to really enjoy themselves too. But dogs tend to look that way most of the time, don't they?

I posted some pictures of my holiday on Instagram. If you want to go and have a look, I'm at Mike Bennett author on Instagram, or at least I am for now. I'm not happy with the changes being made at Facebook and Instagram, and I may leave the site soon. I don't know. despite the fact that as an author and podcaster, I'm supposed to be there. But maybe that long-held artists need to be on Facebook to promote themselves and so on and so forth is a bit outdated now.

I just don't enjoy Facebook anymore and don't use it. Instagram, yeah, it's not so bad. I do use that. And as I say, I've posted some of my holiday pictures there, so if you're interested, have a look.

A butcher's hook. Have a good old butcher's.

Why don't you? And if you like them, please give them a like. Like everybody else, I get a little dopamine ping when my posts get a like.

Is that wrong?

Of course not. But anyway, here we are at episode 15 of The Devil of Claverton. Back in 2022, when I first released this at Patreon, I had hoped it would be the finale episode. but the ending turned out to be a much longer and dramatic series of events than I'd first anticipated, so this isn't the end, but it is the beginning of the end. I'll hand over to myself in 2022 to give you a quick recap, and then it's on with the show. Last time, we heard how Henry Villain won over the people of Stroud and managed to raise a small army of them to come with him to vanquish the man who has inherited the Pusset's plantation, Claverton. They thought he was a cousin of the Pusset's, but, according to Verlaine, is in fact

a demon called a vampire, who goes by the name of John Brooks. At the end of the last episode, Underwood was telling David and Claire Redmond how Verlaine and his mob arrived on a snowy morning, rounded up all the former slaves and indentured servants who'd been working outside, including Maru, and then began their attack on the house where Underwood was sleeping upstairs by throwing in torches at the windows. And it's there that we pick up this time, in....

The Underwood and Flinch.

Saga Written and performed for podcast by Mike Bennett Season 7 The Devil of Claverton Episode 15 This podcast is intended for an adult audience.

Listener discretion is advised.

The shouts and screams, the breaking of the windows as torches were thrown in all around the house. We vampires sleep very deeply when we're glutted with blood, as I was from my feeding of the night before. Underwood looked up from his glass and into David's eyes, his expression and his tones. appealing as if for sympathy.

I didn't know. I just didn't know.

Until it was too late. Till the fire had taken hold. Was Martha with you?

Asked David. She was, yes. Didn't she hear it?

No.

Underwood shook his head. She was dead to the world. Cider. She was very partial. We all were.

Wasn't a lot else to do of an evening back then but enjoy a few drinks and a sing-song. When I'd got home shortly before dawn, she was on her back, in bed, snoring away quite happily. He smiled at the memory. I had to roll her onto her side. She didn't even stir.

David nodded.

He knew the sleep of the intoxicated all too well. I awoke when a musket ball shattered a window in our room. As soon as my eyes opened, I could smell the smoke coming up from downstairs, hear the roar of the fire. I shook Martha awake as another shot sounded from outside and another window shattered, the musket ball passing through the shutters and curtains and hitting the ceiling.

And then a voice, one I thought I'd never hear again, shouted up to me from outside.

Brooks, awake!

Your damnation is come, demon. In the name of Christ I command ye, awake. In the name of Christ? Well, that surprised me almost as much as hearing Verlaine again. Since when was he an advocate for Jesus? Despite the danger, I ran over to the windows. I pulled back the curtains and warily peeked out from between the shutters. As I said, our room was north-facing, so there was no fear of the sunlight streaming directly in upon me. but the sun was up, and dazzling on the fresh blanket of snow outside. I turned away, blinded, then just in time, too, as another shot exploded the glass right by my head.

Velaine?' I shouted.' Is that you?

Tis I, Chaston,' he replied. It meant nothing to me, but It was a name he'd given the Straudians in case the notoriety of his real name had preceded him.

He went on.

Samuel Chaston from the ship. Come to send ye back to the hell from whence ye came. I dared another peek, but all outside was just a dazzling glare capped with a black slash of forest and a clear blue sky. I ran to Martha. I'd told her about Verlaine previously. She didn't need an explanation. It was obvious what was happening.

Now the shots were coming thick and fast, the windows shattering, shutters splintering, plaster debris raining from the ceiling. I didn't know how many attackers were outside, but even if I had and I could have seen them, I couldn't have fired back.

I had nothing to fire back with. There were no guns in the bedroom. I didn't even have a bloody sword.

I'd become lulled by that surety of safety one feels when one truly believes one has nothing to fear. I was home, with my love at my side and people downstairs and all around the house to watch out for me. The place was like my fortress.

Or so I'd thought.

Oh, I know I should have had contingency plans. I should have been sleeping in the cellar. I should have dug an escape tunnel out to the forest or at least to an outbuilding somewhere.

But I'd done none of these. I just.

Underwood picked up his brandy. his eyes on the liquid. I didn't think anyone could touch me. That anyone would even have had a reason to. I mean, everyone I fed upon had no memory of me. I'd made sure of that. I thought I, we, were safe. He shook his head, regretfully. It wasn't just naivety. It was complacency. Smug, self-satisfied complacency.

And now I was paying the price for it.

He drained the glass, then set it on the table. So, smoke was starting to seep under the bedroom door, which wasn't exactly inviting, but since the windows weren't an option, it was our only way out. I put my ear to it and listened. The wood wasn't hot, but I could hear the roar of the fire further away.

I could also hear shouting, screams. gunshots. I opened it.

Heat and smoke pushed in upon me, but mercifully the corridor outside wasn't yet burning. So we wetted washcloths in a basin in our room to cover our noses and mouths and ventured out. We went down the corridor to where it opened out onto the double staircase. You know, one of those that has the two flights of stairs rising up on either side of the landing? This was the grand entrance hall. The front doors at the bottom and tall windows all around, now mostly smashed where the mob had thrown in torches. Everything down there was on fire.

But worse than that. Sunlight.

Massive.

Bloody shafts of it streaming in through the southeast-facing windows with smoke coiling through it all like, well, like a vision of hell. Through it I could see the shapes of men standing in the open front doors, muskets poised and ready should anyone try to get out that way. Underwood's eyes met David's and he shrugged. It was no good.

I was, pardon my language, Fucked. So I turned to Martha, told her I couldn't go down there. Between the fire, the sunlight, and the muskets, I had no chance. But she might. After all, it was me they were after, wasn't it? I told her to go, tell them I'd been holding her captive against her will, tell them I'd been holding them all captive, and then maybe she and the others would find an opportunity to escape later.

But she wouldn't go.

Underwood's eyes glistened as tears began to well. She said She wouldn't be.

Without me again.

Whatever I was, man or monster, I was her life. Underwood's mouth tightened into a wistful smile. Well, I didn't bother remonstrating with her. We both knew that, optimism aside, our attackers weren't there to rescue anyone. Anyone who made it out would at best face some cockamamie witch trial and most likely end up burning somewhere else. So we embraced.

And then they shot me. He touched a hand to the top right-hand side of his head.

Just here. Non-lethal, obviously. A graze.

But it glanced off my skull, knocking me out cold. I should have died there. at the top of the stairs at Claverton, and I wish, so many times I've wished, that I had. It would have been right, the right place for the man I was, who I still was, despite everything, to have simply ended. Underwood's tears spilled onto his cheeks.

But I didn't.

Clare reached across the aisle to the table where they had put the drinks tray earlier She picked up a white cotton napkin and handed it to Underwood. He took it, thanked her, and wiped his tears away. Sorry about that, he said. Can't be helped, I'm afraid. Jesus, no, my lord, said David. Don't worry about it. Take as long as you need. And if you don't want to go on, no, no.

Underwood dropped the napkin on the table. I'm fine, really. He took a drag on his e-cigarette and sighed a cloud of vapour aside. Not much farther to go now, and then we can all turn in, what? So, before I say what happened next, I need to go back a little and tell you what was happening elsewhere. As I mentioned earlier, once Villain had got Matthias to tell them where my bedroom was, he had him stowed with the former slaves and indentured. Matthias was the only one bound at the wrists. The others were just rounded up together and held at gunpoint by three or four of the Stroud mob. They were being kept in a barn.

one of a number of outbuildings between the house and the tobacco fields. Matthias was pushed into the group, losing his balance and landing on his face. He told me later he wanted to stay that way. He didn't want to stand among these people he'd betrayed with his head held high. The guilt and shame he felt. He said he'd wanted to die. But then a strong hand pulled him to his feet, righting him, and he felt himself embraced.

Almost crushed. It was Maru, of course.

He didn't care a damn for what Matthias may or may not have done. All he saw was his friend and the damage the bastards had wrought upon him. He asked him what had happened, but before the lad could reply, they were forced apart by the guards. Maru was going to remonstrate with him, but at that moment they heard the shooting begin outside, and all fell into silence. Shouts and screams followed. More shots, and soon the smell of smoke came wafting in on the cold morning air. All this drew the guards over to the doors so they could see what was happening outside. Then Maru was able to move close to Matthias, ask him what the hell was happening, and discreetly unpick the knots on his wrists.

Matthias told him it was Villain and what the swine was up to. Fortunately, unlike Matthias, Maru didn't want to die just yet, but he knew that if they just hung around there waiting for all this to play out, that would be their fate. He said as much to Matthias, told him if he wanted to die, then he should die helping the rest of them escape. So, here was a chance of some redemption for the lad. He took courage and found his spirit again. Maru then whispered to the others nearest him his intention to rush to guards.

Once the word had been passed around and they'd given him the nod, Maru made his move, and all followed. They overpowered the Straudians, killing them and taking their weapons. They then went outside, to the sight of Claverton going up in flames. Everyone was appalled, of course. They had friends in there, including, I like to think most importantly, me and Martha. At least we were uppermost in the minds of Maru and Matthias, and they quickly hatched a plan to try to get us out. First, Maru gave the muskets to those who felt most confident they could use them. None of them were trained, of course, but they'd all seen how the things worked. The rest took up whatever tools they could use as weapons. Hammers, hatchets,

chisels and the like. They then went on a quick, clandestine recce of the house. They saw the majority of Verlaine's mob were around the north side, their attention and gunfire focused on my windows. The rest of them were spread around the other sides of the house, capturing anyone who came out and making them lie face down, arms spread wide. Some of those on the ground were dead, shot as they tried to make a run for it.

So then, having surveyed the prospective battlefield, former naval midshipman Matthias suggested a plan and Maru agreed to it. Maru then directed his forces accordingly. Those with guns were to take cover where they had clear shots of Verlaine and his mob on the north side, while those without, the majority, were to sneak up on the men covering the rest of the house, kill them quickly and quietly, then pinch their guns too. Then, while they set about doing that, Maru, Matthias and a chap called James, who worked in the stables, went to the coach house. Here they hitched horses to the closed carriage, the Pusset's winter wagon.

Very fancy.

Doors, windows, even curtains, which is precisely the reason Maru wanted it. When it was ready, they hopped aboard, with James taking the reins, Maru up beside him, and Matthias inside. Then they rode out, coming around to the rear of the house. As they drew near, they could see Maru's little commando unit had already taken down the Straudians at the rear and the south side, and as they rounded the front, they found them bashing hell out of the ones at the entrance who'd shot me. Matthias said he recognised one of them as Cuddy Burke, one of Verlaine's crewmates.

I dare say he was the one who shot me, since he would have known what I looked like, and was most likely stationed there for precisely that reason. I'd like to have done for him myself, of course, but I took some comfort in knowing that at least he'd had his head stoved in by a blacksmith's hammer. Anyway...

James brought the carriage up as close to the front doors as he could without the horses rearing. Matthias ran into the house, and Maru directed his now musket-bearing commandos to take up positions anywhere they had a clear shot of Verlaine's mob. So now they had the two teams of musketeers flanking Verlaine on either side, putting him and his rabble in a crossfire. But this second group, said David, are only the ones that didn't know how to use muskets.

Didn't matter, said Underwood. They'd seen them fired often enough to know how they worked. Just aim them at the individuals in the mob and pull the trigger. That's all they needed to do. I'll get to why in a minute. David nodded, and Underwood continued. So then Maru ran into the house after Matthias. By now it was an absolute inferno, but still, Matthias had found us. Maru saw him on the staircase. He was pulling at me. I was too heavy for him to carry, so he was trying to drag me down the stairs. Maru ran through the flames and took me from him, slung me over his shoulder and was about to turn to go, but Matthias caught him and indicated Martha. She was further up the stairs, close to where he'd originally found me. He went back,

bent down to try to lift her, then stopped. Underwood faltered, unable to continue for a moment. He took a breath, then went on. It was a chest wound. She too had been shot. She was only in her nightdress, and the blood was... Well, Matthias said he knew straight away, but he checked, and he said there was no doubt.

They left her there. They had to get me and themselves out. Underwood picked up his brandy glass and leaned out into the aisle. On catching the eye of the flight attendant, Tim, he gestured with the glass. Tim hurried down with the bottle and was about to pour a glass when Underwood took the bottle from him. Thank you.

I can manage.

Sensing the mood, Tim left him to it. Not looking at David or Redmond, Underwood refilled his glass and took a drink.

So.

they ran outside with me and chucked me into the waiting carriage before the sun got a chance to finish what the fire had started. Matthias got in the carriage with me and shut the door, and Maru jumped up beside James and told him to ride like the clappers out of there. He then waved a signal to his musketeers to open fire. staggering their shots as instructed so as not to spend them all at once. The idea was to cause the mob to scatter, drop down, take cover.

That way they.

Wouldn't see the carriage as it headed up the long, straight approach to the house. And it worked, at least, while it lasted. But, as we were just saying, these people had never shot a weapon before, and they had neither the means nor the know-how to reload them. So, once they'd fired... They threw the guns down and ran for it. This had always been part of the plan, but it happened sooner than Matthias and Maru had hoped. Anyway, once it was clear to Verlaine that the attack was over, he got up and saw the carriage riding away. Eons later, when we were eventually able to talk about it, he said he knew immediately that I had to be aboard, that somehow I'd got out of the house and was making my escape. So he raised his musket and took aim.

He knew there was no chance of hitting the driver, so he targeted the horses, telling every man with him to do the.

Same, lest the devil escape. And we?

We were nearly there, almost at the entrance to the estate, and beyond it the long stately drive through cleared forest and the shelter of the towering pines on either side.

I was awake then.

Barely aware of what was happening, but I remember when the shots started hitting us, shafts of daylight cutting through the darkened carriage, the window exploding inwards, and then came the terrible cry of a horse in pain.

And then we were crashing.

So close, listeners, and yet so far. Will Underwood and his.

Friends survive the crash unharmed? Obviously Underwood will.

But what of Matthias and Maru? Join me next time in Underwood and Flinch. And so there it was, my friends, The Devil of Clabberton, episode 15. And I hope you enjoyed it. If you want to keep on going with the story, you know what to do. Go to my Patreon, sign up at the listener pledge level, Still only $ 3 a month, or higher if you want. You know, you can pay me as much as you like. The sky's the limit if you happen to have Deep Pocket.

But yes, sign up.

You'll get an email with your personal RSS code in it, and you add that code to your favourite podcast app, and then away you go. The podcasts appear in your app, just like those of this podcast or any other. Then scroll down to Underwood & Flinch Season 7, Episode 16... and resume the adventures of Underwood and Flinch today. I hope to see you there soon. But from here I shall bid you a fond farewell, ladies and gentlemen. Take care, be excellent to each other, and I'll see you next time, when the moon rises again over Underwood and Flinch, the devil of Claverton.

Till then, farewell.

And now, some exciting bonus content.

What's in my fridge?

Cool goodness. Chilli objects. Fish sauce.

Well, here we are at the fridge.

It's not particularly exciting because we've been away on holiday and so we're slowly restocking. But, you know, our fridge, it's never that exciting anyway under the best of circumstances. We're not exciting eaters, you know.

So what have we got?

Top shelf, there's some fizzy water, Italian fizzy water, no less.

That's some pepperoni.

There's some lemon juice and a lemon.

There's a, what is this?

I don't know, some drink powered by mushrooms. I'm not, it's blackberry lemon balm, sparkling drink. Then there's some miso paste. That's the top shelf, not very exciting. Second shelf, some bolognese from a previous evening's dinner, some grated parmesan cheese, half a banana, half a pack of butter, some cheese, and some proactive, lowers cholesterol, margarine. Because at my age, you need to think about things like that.

What's this?

Next shelf down, we've got half a fish pie. That was delicious, I have to say. Pauline made that. Some Greek yoghurt.

More cheese, I don't know what that is.

It's a Pyrex jug, pouring jug with some white stuff in it.

I don't know, maybe it's a white sauce.

Bottom shelf here, we've got some chicken thighs, some natural dog food, salmon with potato and vegetables. You have to be very careful with Pippa because she's got allergies or intolerances to all sorts of things. That is a plastic Tupperware pot with some mashed sweet potato.

Which we use to give her her pills.

You just sort of stick the pill into some sweet potato mash and she'll wolf it down.

Salad drawer.

We've got half a cabbage, some broccoli, some tomatoes, some spring onions, some large cut mushrooms, some celery. some mint, and some carrots. And the door, well, the door's looking very quiet.

Top shelf, nothing. Then we've got some, what is that? That's tomato puree, some mayonnaise, and some oat milk.

And that's it for this rather underwhelming episode of What's In My Fridge? What's In My Fridge?

Underwood and Flinch 7: Episode 15

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