Petronella & the Trogot

by Cheryl Bentley

  “No, Petronella. I shall nat goeth without ye.”

  “You must, you silly boy,” she said.

  But the boy had a mind of his own. He let the water rise up until he was floating, too. The water was very salty. Sea water. Was there a sea under here? Impossible. How could that be? Maybe a salted lake. Anyhow, they kept afloat thanks to all that salt in the water. It then dawned on them, that they were actually being helped up. The rising water took them higher and higher up the stairs. There were so many steps and they were so steep that it would have been nearly impossible for them to get up to the top by walking up.

  One hour went by until they finally saw a door at the top of the stairs. The water stopped rising and Petronella and Percy climbed the last few steps. They knocked on the door. They heard the sound of slow shuffling footsteps and a walking stick. The door was slowly opened by an old woman. A very old woman. White hair and face full of deep dark wrinkles. She had a hunched back and shaking hands. When she talked her voice trembled. In shaking steps she went towards another door asking Petronella and Percy to follow her. They stopped in front of the door and she said:

  “I’ve been expecting you. I hope the ride up here was not too awful. Come, come to my little office. I have a nice log fire burning and you can dry your clothes out. Here are two dressing gowns. You can wear them while you wait. On the table there, you’ll find hot drinks and cakes,” she said.

  “While you are drying out, I will tell you about myself.”

  “My name is Etheldreda. I am Bellatrix, Zelda and Circe’s grandmother. My daughter, Andra, died fighting for our cause. Her shadow is here. She is the mother of my three granddaughters. I was a warrior woman, too, in my day. Those were the days. Our army was double the size it was in Bellatrix’s day. Then women lost interest. My granddaughters do me proud though. They have so many medals. And now women simply don’t have armies anymore. They have let themselves go. Don’t stand up for their rights like we used to. Still, can’t be helped. Such a pity, though, say I. Never mind. No good harping on the past. So we stay here in Trogot Caves and do what we can.”

  “Are you a guardian?” Petronella asked. Though she thought The Old Warrior Lady would not have the strength to do much.

  “Yes, I am,” she said. “Let’s go in. I’ll show you around.”

  There in front of them was a huge hall. Lit up by beautiful crystal lamps. The hall was full of shiny polished oak desks with green leather tops. A woman sat at each desk. Women of all ages. They were reading books and taking down notes.

  “I am the guardian of this place. It is an education centre. Oh, I have my helpers. Surely couldn’t do it all alone. No, no. I manage The Andra Centre for Women,” she said. “We have teachers here. My daughter, Andra, is head teacher. She is the one standing at the board now.”

  “What did the women do wrong when they were on Earth?” Petronella asked.

  “They didn’t stand up for themselves. You see, women must love themselves more and not stay with someone who is violent. These women stayed and let themselves be treated like doormats. We have to get the idea into their heads that they are worth much more than they think,” said Etheldreda.

  “Those statues in the red-brick walls on the stairs. Who are they?” asked Petronella.

  “They are statues of some of the women killed by their husbands. We had statues made of them. So as to remember them. Have pity on them. But, most important, so that we do not end up like them,” said Etheldreda.

  “I understand. But, you know, I am now so glad I never got married,” said Petronella.

  “Most husbands are good. But we don’t need to deal with those,” said Etheldreda.

  “Oh, well. I wouldn’t know about that,” Petronella said.

  “I knowest. My pa were the best husband in the world. He loveth my ma so much. I remember that, so I doth; though I were only a small child.”

  “Yes, I am sure your pa was a very good man,” said Petronella. “I’m sorry but we really must rush now as we are getting near the way out and Percy can’t wait to see his parents again.”

  “Now, both of you follow me,” said The Old Warrior Lady, as she tottered off.

  They put their own clothes on again. After that, Etheldreda led them to a small round room. It had no ceiling. They looked up. All they could see was darkness.

  “Just stand still for a couple of minutes when I close the door. A whirlwind will come down the shaft and whisk you up. That’s the quickest way up.”

  They said their goodbyes to Etheldreda and thanked her for her kindness. She closed the door on them. And they waited patiently like they’d been told.

  True to her word, a whirlwind started to come down the shaft. It whizzed around Petronella and Percy. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, until they were lifted off the ground and soared upwards.

  17 The Blind Prophet

  They came out into a busy road. It sloped upwards. There were all sorts of animals and humans marching up and down. It looked as though they were back on Earth. But there were no shops, houses or trees lining the road, just plain walls.

  A sudden lightning flash. Everyone ran off. And the loudest peal of thunder followed. Nobody was in the street anymore. It was deserted. Except for an old beggar sitting on the ground leaning up against the wall, dressed in dirty brown sacking tied around his waist with a rope. He was holding his hand out. As Petronella and Percy walked past him, he knelt down, bowed his head and swayed from side to side. Then he held his arms out.

  “I think he wants us to go to him,” Petronella said to Percy.

  “Me thinketh so, too,” said Percy.

  So they went towards him. He lifted his head as if to look at them. But there was no colour in his eyes. Just plain white eyeballs with thin blue veins running through them. They soon figured out that he was blind.

  “Good day to you, Sir,” Petronella said.

  “Good day to ye, Sire,” Percy said.

  “Hello to both of you. I have been expecting you. You are Petronella and Percy. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” said Petronella.

  “I am The Blind Prophet. I cannot see, but I can see the future. I was the man who asked The Hooded Horseman to give you The Metal Disc. Petronella Chewnik, you are The Chosen One. And you,” he said turning to the boy, “are Master Percy Trollope.”

  Percy had never been called that before. He had always been called nasty names by his masters. This was all new to him.

  “Yes, Sir. It is right. We are the people you have just said we are,” said Petronella.

  “I ask you to put your left hand in my left hand, so I can tell you what the future holds for you. Master Percy Trollope first, please, said The Blind Prophet.

  Petronella put her hand on Percy’s shoulder as if to tell him not to be afraid. Percy stepped forward and placed his left hand in The Blind Prophet’s hand.

  “Master Percy Trollope, you have a brilliant future in front of you. When you get back to Fort Willow you must go to the school. Go and see Miss Primrose who is now the Head Mistress. She will give you advice about your schooling and you must do as she says.”

  Petronella put The Metal Disc up in front of Percy’s eyes so that he did not have time to say no.

  “I shall doth that, Sire,” he said.

  “When you grow up you will be an important person in Fort Willow. You will be the mayor. All the villagers will love you, and you will do many good things. Under you, Fort Willow will thrive and prosper.”

  Percy wasn’t sure what ‘thrive and prosper’ meant, but it sounded good.

  “I have finished with Master Percy Trollope. Can you come forward please, Petronella Chewnik?

  She placed her hand in his and he began telling her about her future.

  “You will spend the rest of your life in Fort Willow. You will have a good life there and live to a ripe old age. Like Percy, you will be loved by all the villagers.”

  Petronella thought that maybe h
e couldn’t really tell the future. How on earth was she going to get all the villagers to love her? All hated her, more like. But she did not want to be rude and just said: “Thank you, Sir.”

  “I haven’t finished yet. There will be a very happy event in your life: you will get married. You and your husband will be very happy. Lonely days are over for you.”

  Percy was so happy for her, he started jumping with joy.

  She stood there speechless. Who would marry her? Maybe Mr Pomshort, the butcher, or Farmer Giles, the mayor? If it wasn’t one, it would be the other. She asked: “Will I be the mayor’s wife?”

  “Yes, you will, and you will go and live in the Manor House,” he answered.

  Petronella found it hard to believe him. For sure, The Blind Prophet cannot be right. But that evening at Fort Willow’s summer ball, Farmer Giles did say: “Not until a black tree gobbles you up.” That fits with what The Blind Prophet has said. Interesting that Farmer Giles knew about The Trogot. For now, her main worry was to get out of Trogot Caves. Were they out already? This didn’t look like the dark caves they’d been in.

  “Sorry, Sir,” she said, “could you please tell us where we are?”

  “You are on the last leg of your journey. You are nearly out of Trogot Caves. You need to walk along this road,” he said, pointing to the upwards slope, “and then you will arrive at a gate. When you have passed the gate and its guardian, you will be back in Fort Willow.”

  “Where be myn ma and pa?” Percy asked.

  “I know that they are here somewhere. Either along the road or near the gate. I am tired now and cannot go on talking. People and animals here keep moving around. You will have to look for them. Goodbye to you both. I wish you all the best.”

  The two bid The Blind Prophet goodbye and thanked him for his kindness. They kissed his hand and took the road towards the gate which would lead them back to Fort Willow.

  Suddenly, there was another flash of lightning. The Blind Prophet disappeared and the road was full of animals and humans marching up and down again. It wasn’t going to be easy to find Percy’s parents in this busy street.

  18 The Giant Spiders

  There were all sorts of people and animals along the roadway. Or at least, we should say that they looked like people. All were wandering around with no place to go. A young man stretched out his arms either side to block Petronella and Percy’s path.

  “Be ye new here?” he asked.

  “Yes, we’re just passing through. We’re on our way out. Now can you please get out of our way. Let us through because we want to get back home,” said Petronella.

  “I can walketh with ye,” said the young man.

  “Really, we can just as well walk on our own,” said Petronella.

  “Ah! That be the point, be nat it? Ye knoweth nothing about this place,” said the young man.

  “What is there to know?” said Petronella.

  “I shall walk with ye and telleth ye as we go along. That way, ye shall nat waste time,” said the young man.

  “What be your name?” Percy asked.

  “Barden. What be ye names? I hath seeneth this young peasant boy before but I cannat remembereth his name.”

  “I be Percy, and this be Petronella,” said Percy.

  “Do you know a young woman by the name of Marian, by any chance?” Petronella said to Barden.

  “Yes, I doth. She were a pretty wench who liveth in Fort Willow.”

  “Is that all you have to say about her?” said Petronella.

  “Eh... Yes, that be all.”

  “Well maybe I can tell you a little story about you forcing Marian into letting you go with her to Lord Fortesque’s castle...”

  “That be all I didst. Just sneaketh mynself into the castle. I didst nat harm anyone.”

  “Maybe you didn’t. But you put a dagger to Marian’s back. I know how it went. DO NOT mess with me,” Petronella said.

  “When ye wanteth something, sometimes ye hath to harmeth folk to getteth what ye wanteth,” said Barden.

  “That is not so,” said Petronella. “You live without things rather than harm someone else to get them,” said Petronella.

  “I doth nat agree with ye,” said Barden.

  “I can see the gates in the distance. We are near the way out. What are you going to do?” she said to Barden.

  He grabbed hold of Petronella’s right arm and twisted it right round her back.

  “I shall telleth ye what WE are going to doth. YOU, Petronella, shall pretendeth that I be travelling with ye when we getteth to the gate. Telleth them anything ye wanteth. As long as ye getteth me out of here. And ye SHALL helpeth me. I wanteth to goeth to Marian and marryeth her.”

  Out of all the people on the busy road, nobody came to help. Petronella was in a lot of pain. She was trying not to scream or cry because she didn’t want to upset Percy.

  Percy shouted out: “Help! Somebody helpeth us!” But nobody took any notice. Barden slapped Percy round the face. “Quiet ye little urchin. I knoweth ye. Ye were that dirty little boy who slaveth away for Lord Fortesque, together with all those other little brats.”

  “They was my friends,” Percy said. His face stinging. Barden laughed at his tears.

  Barden tightened his grip on Petronella even more. She was now red in the face and her eyes were watery.

  “If ye as much as breatheth another word against me, ye little urchin, I shall taketh it out on ye ugly friend here.”

  “Let’s stop this,” Petronella blurted out. “You can go out the gates with us as long as you promise not to hurt either Percy or me.”

  Barden let go of Petronella’s arm. It was very sore. Percy was fuming but thought he had better go along with Petronella’s plan. He had understood exactly what she wanted to do. She was not stupid.

  So Barden walked along with them. A young group of men and women passed by with their hands tied behind their backs.

  “Who be they?” Percy asked.

  “They were pickpockets when they were on Earth. So to stoppeth them, they hath had their hands tiedeth together,” said Barden.

  “What have the people who are here done wrong? They are not all pickpockets, surely. Well, I know you’re not a pickpocket,” she said, looking at Barden. He thought that was a compliment.

  “Everyone who be here hath had thoughts about doing wrong to other folk. Most folk here hath nat carried out a serious crime,” Barden said.

  Petronella thought that Barden was bad enough. It was no good making out he was nice. He was a nasty piece of work.

  “Have you seen Percy’s parents here anywhere?” Petronella said.

  “Yes, I hath. Because they be nat folk of bad thoughts, ye shall findeth them near the gate. There be a field there where only folk who were grabbeth by The Trogot can getteth to. But then they cannat getteth out of the gate. The gate hath nat been openeth for centuries. Me thinketh ye might have special powers. I hath that feeling. So if ye be ableth to persuade The Minotaur to openeth the gate, I wanteth to cometh out with ye.”

  “It sounds like a good plan to me,” Petronella lied. “OK, Barden, please take us to the way out.”

  Percy began to feel a bit worried. What would his ma and pa think of him? Maybe he was not the son they wanted. What if they were horrible people and didn’t want to know about him? He’d heard that parents sometimes didn’t like their own children. What would he do? Maybe he could live with Petronella. Surely she would not turn him away. But if she got married to Farmer Giles, maybe he would not want Percy living with them. Farmer Giles was not such a good man. He could always live on his own at Charis Cottage.

  Percy came out of his thoughts, and asked:

  “Do ye knoweth how much further we hath to goeth?”

  “Not long now,” Barden answered.

  They passed a group of women who were dressed in green tunics and had snakes tied around their waists in place of belts. Petronella and Percy didn’t ask. They had now had enough of this place. All they
wanted to focus on was getting out.

  But the sky turned black. Everyone started darting around in all directions. They had heard the sound of wings in the air.

  Above their heads hovered huge vultures. The size of a small aeroplane. Beating their way through the air. Their thick black bodies and wings blanked out the light of day. Barden and others rushed to stand against the wall. Petronella and Percy did the same. Their arms above their heads, flat against the wall. The Black Vultures swooped down. Each vulture sank its claws into a person. These were the people who were left standing in the middle of the road.

  “It be The Trogot’s way of keeping the number of folk down,” said Barden. “Those folk be flown to the other end of the road. Down at the bottom where there be The Den of Giant Spiders. The folk caught are droppeth into the den from a height. The spiders feedeth on them. I hath been told that the spiders’ centre be red and their legs be black and hairy. They sayeth that these spiders be as tall as any man. No one ever knoweth when The Black Vultures shall flyeth by.”

  19 The Minotaur

  The end of the roadway opened up onto a big green field sloping downwards. Separating the road from the field was a tall wire net running around the whole field. People were clinging onto the net and staring into the field. There didn’t seem to be a way through the net. But down at the bottom of the field stood a mighty iron gate. And right in front of it, clear as anything, was The Minotaur.

  He was a mixture of a man and a bull. Horns came out of his forehead. The tips of the horns were of the same iron as the gate. His breath was heavy. Every time he breathed out, fire blew from of his nostrils. It stood upright on two legs like a human being. Its bottom half had bull’s legs and tail. His chest and arms were that of a man. But it was double the height and width of an ordinary man.

  When it saw Petronella, Percy and Barden coming towards the net it walked towards them. They felt like running away but had to speak to it if they wanted to get out.

  The Minotaur roared out as it got close to the three. Everyone clinging onto the net had moved back and had gathered around behind Petronella, Percy and Barden to see what was happening. Petronella knew that she could not use The Black Box anymore because she had used it seven times. Neither was The Metal Disc any good because The Minotaur was not a Strincas.