Milo and the Raging Chieftains

by Mary Arrigan

  Shane just shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well, I’m not really scared any more. I’m with you and I trust him,’ he nodded towards Mister Lewis. ‘So, what’s to worry?’

  That was fair enough, I figured. If he could stamp down panic, so could I.

  As we stood around the dying fire in the big hall and thawed out our fingers, Mister Lewis explained some of the history – not that I’m a fan of history, but when you’re actually in it, it needs your full attention.

  ‘A man called Rory Rua – Rory the Red because of his red hair – built this castle in the fourteen hundreds,’ Mister Lewis began. ‘He was a good man, kind to his wolfhounds, his falcons, and his family – in that order,’ he added. ‘And he only allowed hangings and floggings on sunny days to make the culprits feel good.’

  ‘Nice man. OK,’ I said, pushing Mister Lewis to get to whatever we needed to know.

  ‘A decent sort, as noblemen go,’ went on Mister Lewis, ignoring my hopping from one foot to the other, ‘but Rory’s jealous, greedy cousin, Roc, wanted to oust Rory from this fine castle. He took over a smaller neighbouring castle – you saw the lights of it from the battlements – and was preparing his men for a battle. But when Rory heard of this he hid the Grant.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘The Grant was a valuable document, signed by the King, giving a nobleman land and permission to build a castle,’ he explained. ‘When Rory heard that his enemy, Roc, was nearby, he hid that Grant. If Roc got his hands on it, Rory would lose everything. No banks back then,’ he continued. ‘So people had to protect their valuables—’

  ‘Just like now,’ Shane interrupted. ‘That’s why I keep my bike in my bedroom. And I chain it to my bed—’

  ‘So what has this to do with us?’ I interrupted.

  ‘Well, this is the thing,’ Mister Lewis sighed. ‘An architect in your time, who was working in this castle, found a leather pouch under a stone slab on one of the upper windows. Inside it was a parchment …’

  ‘The Grant!’ I exclaimed.

  ‘The very Grant,’ Mister Lewis nodded. ‘Written in Latin.’

  ‘And what did it say?’ Shane interrupted again. ‘How could he understand the funny swirly writing that was used back then? They wrote with feathers in those days, didn’t they?’

  ‘I’m coming to that,’ said Mister Lewis. ‘Heavens, boy, you do go on!’

  ‘Can you make it short, Mister Lewis?’ I whispered. ‘Get to the point.’

  ‘Well,’ he began. ‘He gave it to his nice lady friend for safekeeping, an educated teacher lady who said she’d find out more about it.’

  A cold feeling iced its way up my neck. ‘Miss Lee,’ I whispered.

  ‘That’s her,’ said Mister Lewis. ‘Nice lady. Smart sense of style, and great teeth. And, by the way, she’s a descendant of the same Rory Rua.’

  ‘Miss Lee?!’ said Shane. ‘Cool.’

  ‘So that’s why she was always hanging around the castle,’ I exclaimed.

  ‘She wasn’t at school,’ Shane put in. ‘We had to suffer the super hairy principal. All day!’

  ‘Her car was found,’ I said. ‘The doors were open, and there were papers strewn around. Do you think it was spooks looking for the Grant?’

  ‘If they’d found it,’ Shane said, ‘they wouldn’t have needed to kidnap her. So she must be hiding with it somewhere.’

  ‘There were extra gardaí brought in to look for Miss Lee,’ I added.

  ‘Mister Lewis shook his head carefully. ‘Well, they won’t find her,’ he sighed. ‘Nobody will.’

  ‘Why not?’ Shane asked.

  I’d gone dumb.

  ‘Because Roc found his way to your time and he has abducted her,’ Mister Lewis went on. ‘She’s imprisoned somewhere in his castle. And it’s up to us to find her and prevent Roc from getting that Grant.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Just for an ancient a piece of paper …?’

  ‘Because,’ Mister Lewis interrupted, in a low tone of voice, ‘if he gets his hands on that Grant, then this town will never have existed, nor the people who live here. So that’s why I’ve brought you here, you and your bikes and—’ But before he could continue, Ossie came barging in, red-faced and angry.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  OSSIE GOES BERSERK

  ‘Where have you all been? I’ve been looking for you all over the place – even the dark west battlements – ALL ON MY OWN!’ Ossie ranted, waving what looked like a small wooden club – as if that would have sent the enemy running!

  ‘Calm down, Ossie,’ said Mister Lewis. ‘You’re in a right state. We were on the south battlements. What is your problem?’

  ‘Master Lewis!’ Ossie erupted like a mini volcano, all red-faced and spewing little spitlets. ‘They’re all asleep in the kitchen.’

  ‘Of course they’re asleep, lad. That’s why you asked me to come and help you at this time of night,’ said Mister Lewis.

  ‘Those soldiers, who are supposed to be on watch, looking out for Roc and his men at the outer castle walls,’ Ossie panted. ‘They’ve been drinking apple wine. Someone must have put a potion in their food and water, and the wine. They’re all asleep. I couldn’t waken them, not even when I thumped them with Mistress Kate’s heavy pan. All the kitchen staff are sleeping on the floor. Even the hounds are snoring. And I couldn’t waken my mother, father or sisters in their beds!’

  ‘Aha, so that’s why there was nobody on guard!’ said Mister Lewis, getting up from his chair.

  Ossie’s white face went even whiter. ‘What will we do now?’ he said, spluttering with fury.

  I hadn’t known that dead guys have spit – but then I realised that he was back in his own time.

  ‘Roc will come and there will be nobody to stop him from taking over our castle – especially now that he probably has the Grant.’

  ‘Oh, chill up, boy,’ said Mister Lewis. ‘I thought this would be an easy job to slip into Roc’s castle, get Miss Lee and the Grant and head back to the present.’

  Mister Lewis fiddled with his hat as he thought.

  We waited and waited for him to come up with an idea. From the look on his face, it didn’t look like anything was stirring in his mind.

  After a few moments, Shane spoke. ‘I’m starving,’ he said, looking at Ossie. ‘Is there any food?’

  ‘Are you mad?’ I cried. ‘We’re facing the rest of our lives trapped in a freezing castle and all you can think of is food! And anyway Ossie said the food was drugged!’

  The three of us jumped when Mister Lewis leapt up, waving his hands and dancing about on his skinny legs.

  ‘FOOD!’ he shouted. ‘That’s it. FOOD!’

  Now I knew that his time had come. The spook had finally flipped. He was stone mad. We were really going to be stuck here forever, me and Shane, wearing tights and ploughing through cold muck and horse-dung (I’ve seen the films).

  ‘Food?’ I cried out. ‘Are you crazy too, Mister Lewis? This isn’t a time for food!’ Oh shoot! The old guy’s dead brains had finally kicked in. I sat on a stool, put my head on my hands and groaned.

  ‘Shane,’ Mister Lewis said, ‘Your gran, Big Ella, bless her, is a food-loving lady, isn’t that so?’

  ‘Yeah. Me too,’ Shane replied. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

  My head sank further into my hands.

  ‘Her cupboards are filled with all sorts of strange ingredients,’ Mister Lewis continued.

  ‘How do you know that?’ said Shane, frowning. ‘Have you been poking about in our cupboards?

  ‘Of course I have. And I’ve often marvelled at the jars of exotic ingredients she gets from her friends in Africa, and other parts of the world. What else is there to do for entertainment at nights when you’re dead? Now, listen closely. Here’s my plan, boys. Then get those bicycles. There’s much work to be done.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  BIG ELLA’S PLAN

  We whooshed out through the fancy inner door, which Mister Lewis ex
plained was a portal that could take us from past to present, as well as from present to past. We weren’t really listening, Shane and me – we were so relieved to be back in our own time.

  ‘There are two kinds of portals,’ Mister Lewis was going on. ‘There’s the castle one and the natural arboreal one …’

  But we’d lost interest because we were trying to get Ossie on to the carrier of Shane’s bike.

  ‘It’s a wicked thing,’ he cried, putting his club into a belt round his middle. ‘I won’t touch it.’

  It was only when Shane gave him half a sticky Crunchie that we got him aboard. Mister Lewis wafted along beside me.

  Then a thought struck me. ‘Hey, Mister Lewis,’ I called out, ‘what’s going to be outside the castle gates? I’m a bit confused, like, I don’t know what century to expect.’

  ‘No worries, lad,’ he shouted. ‘Once we’re beyond the castle everywhere will be as you know it.’

  ‘Really? We’re really back in our own time? Are you sure?’

  ‘Trust me, Milo,’ he added. ‘All is the same out there as it was yesterday. Are you having second doubts, lad?’ he whispered.

  I glanced around at Ossie, his hands clutching Shane’s back. He’s rude, bossy and a proper little upstart, I thought. But the other side of my brain put in the thought that if it was me trying to save my family, I’d be just like him. So, before the surging longing of turning towards home took over, I shook my head. ‘No,’ I sighed. ‘No second thoughts.’

  ‘I knew you’d say that,’ said Mister Lewis. ‘Good man.’

  Well, that was no help. I was still as scared as a trapped mouse in a cattery.

  ‘Shane,’ Mister Lewis called out behind us. ‘Follow us to Big Ella’s.

  ‘No way!’ shouted Shane. ‘She’ll eat me alive and spit out me bones for sneaking out this late.’

  ‘Don’t be crude, boy. Your granny and I have met before.’

  I knew that, of course, because I’d been there when there was this incident with a druid. But that’s another story. I’d never told Shane what had really happened. I was forbidden by Big Ella to tell him. Not ever.

  The street was quiet as we pedalled towards Shane’s house.

  ‘I’m not sure I want to do this,’ said Shane. ‘Big Ella will have a gigantic hissy fit, and I’ll be grounded for years until I have no teeth and am too old to ride my bike.’

  The lights were on downstairs. That was no surprise, when Big Ella gets a notion to paint a picture she goes for it straight away. Shane stood behind me as Mister Lewis ‘cooeed’ through the letterbox that Ossie held open. The door was flung open and Big Ella stood there with a dripping paintbrush in her hand. Shane clutched my arm. Like, I was going to protect him? But her face beamed when Mister Lewis moved in front of her.

  ‘Mister Lewis!’ she exclaimed. ‘How wonderful to see you again. Come in, come in,’ she went on, standing aside. Then she saw Shane. We waited for her shrill yell, but she just shook her head and smiled. ‘You two boys been with Mister Lewis? That’s good. And who is this, um, pretty little girl?’

  ‘I’M NOT A GIRL!’ shrieked Ossie. ‘I AM THE SON OF RORY RUA.’

  ‘Whatever you say, honey. Come along in.’

  Shane let out the breath he’d been holding, and it went right down the back of my neck. I glanced up the road to my house and was glad to see that the lights were out, which meant that Mum was asleep. Dad wouldn’t be back from night duty until tomorrow morning. I hoped I would be there in the flesh to say ‘Hi, Dad’, and not wafting about as a ghost. I almost bit my lip totally off my face as I forced myself to go into Big Ella’s house instead of racing home.

  Big Ella shooed us all into her big kitchen that smelled of all kinds of spices, fruit and paint.

  ‘Ah, my old kitchen,’ said Mister Lewis, sitting into a chair. ‘Everything, looks good, lady,’ he sighed. ‘I feel so at home.’

  Which was quite true. He had lived here years and years ago before he made a bad mistake and was destined to mooch around the garden as a ghost for years and years. Until he met me of, course. And I saved him – sort of.

  ‘You have turned it into a very cosy place,’ he said to Big Ella.

  ‘You come back here any time you want, Mister Lewis,’ she said. ‘Now, what can I do for you folks?’

  Mister Lewis took a deep sniff. ‘Am I dreaming, or is that cocoa I’m smelling?

  ‘It is indeed, Mister Lewis,’ chuckled Big Ella. ‘I like a mug of hot cocoa when I’m painting late at night. Would you like some?’

  Mister Lewis shook his head sadly. ‘Oh, I would love a mug of cocoa,’ he sighed. ‘It’s been so many years since I tasted cocoa, but it’s the hands, you see, my good lady,’ he went on, holding them up. ‘No substance. The darned things just go through everything.’

  ‘No worries,’ said Big Ella, rummaging in a drawer and producing a pair of woolly gloves with spaceship patterns on them. ‘Let’s try these for size.’

  ‘My good space gloves!’ Shane spluttered.

  ‘Good space gloves?’ echoed Big Ella. ‘You’ve never even worn them, boy. “Too babyish” you said. But I could knit some more,’ she said as she put them on Mister Lewis’s hands.

  ‘Aw, it’s OK,’ Shane muttered.

  ‘Thank you, lad,’ said Mister Lewis, holding up his woolly hands and reaching for a spoon on the table. We all held our breath. And then he did it – he picked up the spoon!

  ‘Look!’ he exclaimed, holding up the spoon. ‘It stays in my hand.’

  ‘That’s just grand,’ laughed Big Ella. ‘Now perhaps you can have a mug of cocoa.’

  Mister Lewis’s face lit up like a beacon. So we all had mugs of cocoa to celebrate. And, wonder of wonders, Ossie’s face turned positively angelic as he downed ‘this strange and wonderful nectar’ as he called it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SMELLY POTIONS

  Being a well-mannered gentleman, Mister Lewis told Big Ella all about why we needed to sort out Roc and his gang and save our castle and the town. At first, she looked at me and Shane and shook her head. I must admit that I kinda hoped she’d put a stop to us getting involved. But then, she simply nodded and said, ‘Well, let’s see what we can do, eh?’

  ‘If you had something that might make those thugs fall asleep,’ began Mister Lewis.

  ‘Oh, I have a much better idea,’ Big Ella chuckled. ‘Clear the table, folks. There’s work to be done.’

  Big Ella got us to carry boxes and small bottles from her ‘witchy den’ as Shane calls it. She put on a big apron and set to work, mixing foul-smelling powders, puke-yellow potions and slimy green stuff. Every now and then she held up a strange little bottle of gunge and explained its use.

  ‘Golden Seal,’ she said. ‘From the root of American crowfoot family.’

  ‘What does it do, Gran?’ asked Shane.

  Big Ella just tapped her nose. ‘You’ll find out,’ she announced.

  Other strangely named stuff such as arrowroot and horsetail. ‘For the kidneys,’ she added. ‘And this,’ she said, holding up a small plant. ‘This is clary sage.’

  ‘What’s that for?’ I asked.

  ‘Explosions,’ Big Ella laughed.

  ‘Bombs?’ exclaimed Shane. ‘Cool.’

  ‘Not quite,’ Big Ella chuckled. ‘But mixed with this other stuff it will …’

  ‘Cause thunderous gas,’ Mister Lewis interrupted.

  When everything was stirred and bottled, Big Ella put her hands on her hips and looked at the four of us.

  ‘So, tell me,’ she began. ‘How do you folks hope to get inside Roc’s castle?’

  ‘Erm,’ began Mister Lewis, taking off his hat and scratching his head with the gloves.

  ‘You haven’t thought it through, have you?’ sighed Big Ella.

  ‘I thought perhaps we could sneak into the kitchen,’ Mister Lewis began.

  ‘SNEAK?’ barked Big Ella. ‘You don’t SNEAK, man. You go in with glory and splendour. Come on. Le
t’s make you lot look majestic. Follow me.’

  She led us upstairs to her bedroom.

  ‘What’s she going to do?’ I whispered to Shane.

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘How should I know? When Big Ella gets an idea, nothing will stop her.’

  Big Ella flung open a big wardrobe and began taking out strange and dazzling clothes. She chose a mud-coloured cloak, put it over Ossie’s shoulders and fastened it with a safety pin. ‘There, lad,’ she said. ‘That will disguise your rich clothing.’

  Mister Lewis asked Ossie if he’d ever met Roc.

  ‘No. He’s my father’s enemy,’ he said. ‘He has never been to our castle, nor I to his.’

  ‘Well, that’s good,’ said Big Ella. ‘He won’t know who you are. Still,’ she went on, ‘perhaps you should stay away from him in case he sees a resemblance to your father.’

  ‘Good thinking, lady,’ said Mister Lewis.

  Then Big Ella turned towards Shane and me.

  ‘Now, you boys,’ she said, looking at us up and down. ‘How will we disguise you?’

  ‘Minstrels, I think,’ put in Mister Lewis. ‘Minstrels are always welcome in castles.’

  ‘Good thinking, Mister Lewis,’ she said. ‘Perfect.’

  ‘Mmm,’ Mister Lewis mused. ‘A boy and a girl, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Decidedly,’ Big Ella clapped her hands.

  ‘Well, that’ll be easy,’ I giggled, nodding towards Ossie’s long hair.

  ‘Oh no,’ Mister Lewis said. ‘You’ll make a wonderful girl, Milo. Ossie is fine as he is – a very fourteenth-century boy. But we need a lady minstrel.’

  ‘No WAY!’ I cried out.

  Well, despite all my shouting and pushing and kicking, I was decked out in a long blue dress, Miss Lee’s red shoes that Big Ella fetched from my bike and stuffed with rolled-up socks to make them fit. And, worst of all, a girlie bonnet with two yellow plaits attached. Talk about cringe!