Rory (Hengist-People of the Horse Book 2)

by Jacky Gray

  ‘But you still like her?’

  ‘Of course. You’ll know why when you meet her. How come you’re not going to school?’

  ‘It’s not worth it for two weeks. I’ve been given some tasks to study and I’ll start the new year in September.’

  They were down past the high levels and the stairs had become long and shallow, presenting no problem. Peter was even able to run on the last section. They carried on running round the corner, reaching the entrance of the gardens just as Julie was coming out.

  It took longer to get back as there was a lot of traffic on the narrow roads, people making their way home from a day in the sun.

  The evening meal was quiet, Dave was still subdued after sleeping most of the journey back, and the other two boys had not yet returned from their friend’s house. Peter and Archer gave Julie a hand setting the table and clearing up afterwards, but as soon as they heard the front door, Peter dropped the cloth. He went to meet the other two and they went out to the den. It was built as a garage originally, but was too narrow for a car, so Dave had converted it into a games room for the lads. Archer was not invited, so he went up to his room.

  Closing the door, he knew straight away that something was different. Someone had been in his room. He couldn’t tell by looking, everything appeared exactly as he had left it, but his warrior senses prickled up in warning. There wasn’t much in the room apart from a bed, a small desk and chair. A wardrobe fitted all the way across the shortest wall. It had a set of drawers, shelves of different sizes and space for hanging clothes. Archer could never imagine owning enough clothes to fill that much space, but some of the shelf space was taken up with spare bedding.

  The books on the shelves above the desk were still lined up in the order of their height, but at least two of them were in different places. The model cars on the bottom shelf were mostly in the same order, but the positions of two red cars had been swapped. Without doing any more, Archer knew that his privacy had been violated. Which meant that someone had either got a key for the lock or come in through the window. His first thought was that the other boys had tried to get his bow and he bent down and felt under the bed to check. It wasn’t where he left it.

  13 Preparing for Battle

  How could they have got into his room? They had been staying with a friend all the time he was away and the door was locked. Resisting the urge to confront them, Archer sat cross legged and drew calming breaths, letting his warrior brain take over and assess the information. Kalen recently introduced him to a sophisticated technique that he would normally be learning as a senior and this was the perfect opportunity to practise it.

  He learnt that every event, no matter how inconsequential, leaves an imprint. Just as minuscule specks of matter such as hairs, fibres and the oils in fingerprints are left behind, so are microscopic particles such as skin cells, droplets of sweat and even the residual energy from an action or thought. With the gift of heightened senses, some people can tune into an environment and detect events that had happened there.

  ~*~

  ‘Close your eyes and tell me what you can smell.’

  ‘The flowers in the vase and my sweat. I could use a bath. And you, but not as much.’

  ‘Good. Not bad for a start. Now that you have identified those smells, I want you to remember them and move past. Can you smell anything else?’

  ‘Chalk dust. Herbal tea gone cold, was it chamomile? Horse dung outside the window.’

  ‘I think you’re just expecting to smell that, I’m sure it would have been cleared up since this morning. And it was chamomile. Anything else?’

  ‘An apple core in the bin. Leather covering the books.’

  ‘Superb. Can you tell me what I had for lunch?’

  ‘Apart from the apple? No wait, that was yesterday. Cheese, bread, no butter and some spiced tomato sauce.’

  ‘Truly amazing. You could really smell all that?’

  ‘No, I cheated. It’s what you have most days, I’ve seen you eating it. I had to choose between cheese or meat.’

  Kalen chuckled. ‘Well there’s nothing wrong with your powers of observation or memory, but if you practice with this, sharpening your sense of smell, you should be able to distinguish between the scents left behind by a number of people. Have you ever walked down a corridor and known that Professor Gail was there a little while earlier?’

  Archer nodded. ‘Yes. Lavender and thyme.’

  ‘If you were to develop this skill fully, you would no longer be able to stay in a room with her. She is rather liberal with it. The principle is the same. You can detect a person’s presence several hours or even days later, if you are familiar with their particular combination of aromas.’

  ‘But doesn’t it fade out after a while?’

  ‘Of course. That’s why it is so important not to disturb the air in the room, always smell and touch first. If you can, try to touch things with your tongue. It will help you to make a more detailed comparison because there is a big connection between taste and smell.’

  Kalen explained that the woman who trained him had highly developed gifts. Her abilities were so advanced that she could hear snatches of conversations that had taken place in a room and even hear thoughts.

  ~*~

  Archer tuned out the obvious smells in the room: his own familiar scent, the detergents used to wash the bed coverings and the slightly woody smell coming from the carpet. Next, the pungent aroma coming from the oils on his bow, combined with the wood. He discounted all of these and examined what was left. There was definitely another sweaty smell in there, possibly even two. They must have got in, searched under the bed and taken his bow out. Then they’d put it back the wrong way, with his insignia on the left instead of right. He checked the hiding place of his quiver, well hidden behind a panel at the base of the wardrobe. The tell-tale chocolate wrapper had moved.

  Scratches round the front plate of the lock showed him their method of entry. Now that they had access to his room and knew where he kept the bow and quiver, they would be waiting for an opportunity to use it against him. The first question was: would it be better for him to re-hide things, letting them know that he knew, or should he accept that they weren’t going to give up until they had tried? The second was: would Peter still be keen to help them after what happened at the weekend?

  There was an old saying that forewarned is forearmed, but there was not much Archer could do if they set upon him as they had done earlier. Not that he couldn’t handle all three, they were ignorant of basic techniques like neutralising an opponent with the minimum of energy. They were all brute force and ignorance, lashing out with fists and reacting to threat, relying on superior numbers to overwhelm resistance. If he wanted to, he could have disabled each one in turn with a well-placed punch or kick, but that would increase their determination to continue until they could best him. And more importantly, it would be in direct contravention of his orders.

  Ancient military history taught him that an effective strategy was to divide and conquer and his study of recent military campaigns introduced him to the idea of “hearts and minds.” He had gone some way toward winning Peter over to his point of view, although he probably wouldn’t yet have the resolve to stand up against the other two. It was obvious Kyle was nothing more than a foot soldier; he would follow wherever Jack led. So Archer’s main task was to convince Jack he would never win in a contest of strength or wits. An idea began to form.

  Saturday morning was the obvious time for action; Dave worked until lunch and Julie always spent a couple of hours at the local market. If Archer had been planning the campaign, he would know that his adversary knew this, and it would have been the last time he would choose. These boys had little knowledge of principles such as logical anticipation and surprise or the modern warfare technique of multiple scenario modelling. So although he was fairly convinced they would not strike during the week, he did not let down his guard. Apart from meal times, he stayed in his room so they would
have no further opportunity to invade his territory.

  There were elements of good strategy, if that was what it was. When their paths crossed, all three boys seemed to be slightly friendlier toward him, particularly Peter. If it wasn’t for the discovery of the moved bow, Archer might have been fooled into thinking the lad now felt a genuine friendship. When the other two weren’t around, Peter relaxed back into the warmth and camaraderie they had shared at the farm and on the Tor.

  Archer was more than ready for the betrayal when it came. Just as Edlyn had used Patricia to entice him to the yew forest, Peter was to be the lure to his undoing. Except that Patricia had been completely innocent and he nearly lost her friendship when he blamed her for her part in the deception. There would be no such mistake this time.

  ‘Leave this Mum, we’ll clear up, won’t we boys?’

  ‘Thank you, Peter, I am running a bit late. I’m not used to all of you up for breakfast on a Saturday. You don’t normally surface until lunch.’

  ‘Must be the good effect Archer’s having on us Mrs Reid. We’ll have this place shipshape for when you get back. Me and Kyle are going to Brett’s again.’

  ‘Will you be back for lunch?’

  ‘Not sure yet, depends how it goes. Probably not, but we will definitely be back for tea.’

  ‘Peter, would you and Archer mind making yourselves a sandwich or something? Your dad said he’d be late today so I can pop in on Cath and the new baby.’

  ‘Take your time, Mum. We can manage without you for a few hours. You should take a break.’

  ‘Oh Peter, what a lovely thing to say.’

  If he didn’t know where all this was coming from, Archer would have been pleased with the small impact he had made on Peter’s attitude to his mother. He watched her internal dilemma. She obviously wanted to hug her son, but this instinct was over-ridden by the knowledge that Peter would shrug it off in front of the other boys. In the end, she just patted his shoulder, completely oblivious to the undercurrents of scheming going on in three of the minds sitting round that table.

  Archer was surprised when they kept their word and helped with the clearing up; he had expected them to disappear as soon as she left. It must be part of their plan to lull him into a false sense of security. Jack and Kyle struggled to appear unconcerned as they made their exit, but an air of suppressed excitement sparkled in their eyes.

  Peter followed him upstairs and hovered behind as Archer unlocked his door. ‘I – um – don’t suppose I could have a close look at that bow could I? Since you told me about making it yourself, I’m quite curious.’

  ‘Sure. Give me a couple of minutes to set it up.’ He shut the door behind him, then quickly retrieved the quiver, taking out all but three of the training arrows. Inspecting the rounded wooden tips, he compared them to the lethal metal barbs. They would still hurt if they were fired at a person, but they would not do as much damage as those designed to kill. Retrieving the bow, he strung it deftly. No point risking it being broken in their attempts to force the string over the nocks.

  Peter’s interest and enthusiasm were genuine as he asked intelligent questions about the method and tools involved. He appreciated the feel of it, running his hands along the arms, seeming to get the same pleasure that Archer did from the smooth contours of the wood. After a close examination of the arrows, there was nothing more to say about the manufacture and Archer packed the arrows away. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to volunteer himself into the trap by suggesting they went outside with the bow. Peter might get suspicious if he made it too easy, but if that was his intention, he was leaving it late.

  ‘I don’t suppose you would be able to show me how to use it? Properly I mean. I’ve had a go with toy bows where the arrows had little rubber suckers on the end, but I think this would be a lot harder.’

  ‘I could show you, but you wouldn’t be able to do much yourself. It takes years of practise on smaller bows to build up the strength to pull it back fully.’ Archer demonstrated the correct technique of standing, holding the bow, slotting the arrow into the string and positioning one finger above the arrow’s nock and two below. ‘So now I would draw the bowstring back until it reached my ear, but I cannot do that in the house.’

  ‘Couldn’t you just show me and then let it go again without releasing the arrow?’

  ‘No, you must never release the string like that without firing the arrow, there is nowhere for the stored energy to go and it could damage the bow.’

  Peter looked at the floor, disappointment evident on his face and Archer sensed some kind of internal debate. He could guess the problem. Peter was basically a good guy and wouldn’t want any part of the tussle that would follow if he tricked Archer into going outside with the bow. Well he needed to decide whose side he was on and make his stand.

  Peter made the right choice. ‘Oh well, thanks very much, I’ve learnt a lot. I suppose you’ve got studying to do now, so I’ll leave you to it.’

  He had almost reached the door when Archer decided he could afford to give him a chance. ‘Actually, I was thinking of setting up some kind of butt in the garden to practice with. You could give me a hand.’

  ‘A butt? Like for water?’

  ‘No, it’s a target made of earth so the arrows do not get damaged when you fire them.’

  ‘I could get some paper and draw circles on it. That would be awesome.’

  ‘Oh we couldn’t do it today. I haven’t asked permission from your parents. I’m sure your dad would not be happy about me messing around with piles of earth.’

  ‘He’ll be fine. There’s some spare turf from when he had the patio laid …’ Peter went into some detail about how they could organise it so Dave wouldn’t even know. Archer’s eyes narrowed, they had obviously discussed this aspect of their wicked plot already. Nevertheless, he went along with it and they soon had a passable butt. While Peter was marking out thirty paces, Archer warmed up the bow, rubbing the arms with a soft cloth and gently stretching the string, carefully controlling the return. Peter had marked rings on the paper with a thick black pen using a teacup, a small plate, a dinner plate and a rubbish bin. They weren’t the normal diameters but at this distance, it would suffice.

  ‘You must stand behind the line and watch what I do.’ Although it had been several weeks since he had practised, the years of training meant that his actions were smooth and fluid as the three tips pierced the central circle with almost no space between them.

  Peter clapped, excitement shining his eyes. ‘Wow, that was amazing. Three bulls eyes. And so fast, your hands were a blur.’

  As they retrieved the arrows, Archer heard a door shutting in the house, but he ignored it, asking Peter if he wanted a go.

  ‘Could I? But I thought you said it takes years to build up the muscles.’

  ‘If you tried from fifteen paces, you may be able to do it. You don’t need to draw the string back so far.’ As he marked out the distance and set his quiver down as the toe line, Archer caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He was fairly sure they would wait until Peter had shot all three arrows so that they were as far away from Archer and the bow as they could be.

  Peter remembered a surprising amount from Archer’s brief description and demonstration. All Archer had to do was tilt the bow a few degrees so that the arrow could rest in the V formed by the handgrip and Peter’s hand. He turned the arrow so that the white cock feather was turned out perpendicular to the bow.

  ‘Where do I aim?’

  ‘Just above where you want it to go.’ His first arrow went to the left of the paper, so he adjusted slightly and the second one went into the paper on the right of the target and a little high. The third one was inside the outer circle and Peter was pleased, punching the air with a fist. As Archer went up to retrieve the arrows, it happened, just as he had predicted.

  14 I Won’t let you Down

  ‘You think you’re so cool, just because you can fire a few arrows. Well anyone can do that. Just wat
ch.’ Jack held his hand out for the bow.

  Peter didn’t hand it over straight away. ‘It’s not as easy as it looks. You should have a go on the butt first.’

  ‘Listen to mister know-it-all. Just because he’s told you a few of the technical terms doesn’t make you an expert.’

  ‘I’m not saying I’m an expert. Just that any sportsman has to do warm up exercises before they go for it.’

  ‘Maybe you should all have a go and whoever gets closest to the bull can try for the apple.’ Archer was extremely calm, considering the potential danger.

  ‘No-one asked your opinion, freak. Just shut up.’ Kyle was brave when Archer was fully restrained, but his fear of tackling the warrior was obvious by the smell of nervous sweat surrounding him.

  It had gone pretty much as Archer imagined it would. Before he could reach the butt, two bodies had come hurtling out from behind the thick hedge that screened off the rubbish dump from the rest of the garden. Once a compost heap, it was now piled high with the remains of rusted bicycles, tatty old garden furniture and broken toys. Archer knew they were there, but feigned surprise at their attack, allowing the two of them to restrain him once more with the bungee. He gave the minimum of resistance. Just a token punch or two and a good stamp on Jack’s foot as he adjusted the cords on the front of his body.

  Peter appeared as surprised as he was, but that could be a ploy. He didn’t actually help with the capture, but didn’t do anything to prevent it either, merely retrieving the quiver and arrows. His face was neutral and his tongue still as Jack punched his captive in the stomach in return for the throbbing foot.

  Archer learnt from several years earlier; he had put up a good fight when Edlyn’s gang attacked and was only overwhelmed by sheer numbers and dirty tricks. By not putting up too much of a fight this time, he escaped the debilitating injuries of a kicking and knockout blow to the head which sapped his strength and addled his brain. None of these boys were interested in whipping him with poisonous branches or stuffing his mouth with leaves and berries coated in the sticky, toxic resin. This time, he would not need to be rescued by a couple of heroes. The only thing he couldn’t work out, was whether his new-found friend was capable of the treachery he had ascribed to Patricia, or whether, like her, Peter was totally innocent.