by Farr, Cathy;
‘Yer father promised to pay me lass’ time! Take ‘em, bu’ don’ come fur more wi’ out yer purse! Tha’s eighteen shillings you owe’s me now!’
‘Don’t worry, old man, I’ll bring you the body of my first Wraithe Wolf – you can take the bolts back for yourself!’
He went off laughing.
‘What!’ gasped Tally as she crouched beside Wil. ‘I can’t believe he just said that!’
She scampered out of the stable.
‘Sorry you ‘ad to ‘ere tha’ young Tally. If ever there was one ‘oo shouldn’ be on any Moon Chase i’s tha’ un! Wha’ ‘e jus’ said proved tha’!’
‘He wouldn’t really bring a dead Wraithe Wolf back here, would he, Bryn?’ Tally’s pale blue eyes were wide with fear.
‘Woul’n’t pur i’ past ‘im – no respect thar un. I tol’ ‘em – bu’ wha’ with ‘is father in the Order…’ Bryn’s voice faded as he watched the disappearing figure, bouncing confidently through the beech trees, swiping branches with his newly acquired bolts as he went.
‘Yes, but Bryn, even to show off, bringing the body of a Wraithe Wolf into Saran – we’d have the whole Tel Harion pack down on us before dawn!’
‘I’m sure he was only joking, Tally,’ soothed Lady Élanor, after her sister had angrily recounted the exchange between Giles Savidge and Bryn.
They were standing just inside the now empty Infirmary ward. Wil stood waiting in the hallway slightly miffed because he still wasn’t allowed to go in, even though both Seth and Bryn had been discharged. From where he stood, Wil could see that all of the beds were empty; crisp white linen lay pressed, ironed and neatly folded on each one, ready for the next in-take of Saran’s sick.
‘I don’t know, Eli – he was so rude. And he told Bryn to ask you for the money out of the legacy – do you think people are starting to wonder where it is?’
‘I’m sure they always have – but don’t worry Tally-sal, it is perfectly safe – no one will ever find it unless we want them to.’
Lady Élanor’s voice was very gentle as she spoke to her frightened sister – Wil peered through the crack in the door. She had her arm around Tally as she stroked her hair.
‘I will speak to Morten before the Moon Chase tonight – perhaps he can have a quiet word with young Giles before he sets off – just to make sure that he fully understands what is expected of a Bearer – and what is not. Pricilla will fly with them, too, remember – Saran will be safe, don’t worry.’
Tally stepped back and looked up into her sister’s face.
‘And what about Wil - will he be safe, too?’
Lady Élanor drew her sister to her and gave her a hug. She looked through the gap in the door, straight into Will’s face as she spoke.
‘As long as he keeps his mind open as well as his eyes, he will be fine.’
Another uneaten meal lay before Wil as a heavy fist banged on the front door. Martha bustled out to investigate. He heard the door open and then he heard a man’s low voice. Then he heard Martha’s voice, shrill with disapproval.
‘But he’s only just had lunch! Lady Élanor said you would come this evening. He’s not packed yet! No – no, you can’t just barge in!’
With that, two burly guards armed with broadswords entered the kitchen; one was trying to keep Martha at arms length as she tried to stand in their way.
‘I’m so sorry, m’lady - They’ve come for Wil!’ said Martha with a mortified expression.
Lady Élanor and Tally stood up at once. Tally opened her mouth but Lady Élanor spoke first.
‘I was under the impression, gentlemen, that Master Calloway was to join the hunt just before sundown – I acknowledge that while it is indeed before sundown now – you are far earlier than expected.’
Lady Élanor’s voice was calm and controlled. It reminded Wil of the first time he had met her in the jail on the night of his arrest.
‘I suggest, sirs, that you come back to collect your prisoner at the agreed time.’
With her face like marble, Lady Élanor stepped in front of Wil and looked up at the guards as if she was daring them to make a move.
The man continued to hold the struggling Martha at arms length while his companion spoke in a voice cold as stone. As he spoke rain dripped off his wiry beard.
‘We are under orders from the Grand Wizen, Ma’am. We are to take him now to stop him making contact with Sir Jerad Tinniswood before the Chase, Ma’am.’
‘What!’ said Lady Élanor, Tally and Wil as one. Wil looked from the guards to Lady Élanor and back again.
‘But I don’t know Sir Jerad! I told you, Lady Élanor – I don’t even know what he looks like!’ he said - trying very hard not to shout.
Was the whole town mad? It seemed to Will that he was being blamed for anything they couldn’t explain – it was so ridiculous it was actually funny! He started to laugh. Tally looked scared and Lady Élanor went so white that, with her pale silver hair, she could easily have passed for a ghost.
‘It’s alright Wil, I’m sure this is all a big mistake. Stay here with Tally – I will go and speak to Morten,’ ordered Lady Élanor. ‘Gentlemen, I can assure you that this young man has no links with Sir Jerad Tinniswood or his recent escape from Saran Jail. Now, if you would follow me, I think a visit to the Order should sort this out. In the meantime, Martha, it might be as well to get Wil’s pack ready.’
The man gripping Martha’s arm finally let go, but his companion was less easily persuaded.
‘I think that one of us should stay here, my Lady – just in case.’
‘Just in case what!’ asked Tally, finally finding her voice.
‘Tally – I am perfectly capable of sorting this out,’ warned Lady Élanor.
‘No!’ Tally refused and, with a defiant look, she stepped forward. Wil was struck by just how tiny she looked against the bulky mail-clad man. ‘I want to know exactly what they mean – after all, it was Wil who raised the alarm this morning when we had an intruder in the courtyard – if that was Tinniswood, why didn’t he just run off with him then? Why did he come and help me look for him? And - Where on earth were you lot – you are supposed to be protecting us?’
She was standing now only inches from the bearded guard, who, despite his bulk compared to the small girl, was looking a lot less stony-faced.
‘Look, I think it might be best if I just go with them now,’ Wil conceded. He could see that the situation was not going to get any better now that Tally was riled.
‘But Wil, I really do think I should go and speak with the Order first,’ objected Lady Élanor.
‘No, I think I should go and speak with them!’ said Tally, her rage gathering momentum. ‘I mean, it’s alright for us to look after their sick and tend their wounded – and pay for it ourselves! But when it comes to the fair trial of an innocent person – well, that certainly seems to be a different matter altogether!’
She advanced towards the guards. Wil clutched her arm.
‘Tally, please. You’re not helping me here. Look, these men are only doing their job. I think it’s best if I go with them. Look - I’m not sure what I’m supposed to have, but could you bring it down for me later… please, Tally?’ he begged.
To his relief, he felt her step back slightly then she shook his hand away irritably and looked at the floor with her lips pressed sullenly together.
‘Wil’s right, Tally, we’ll go now and you can bring Wil’s pack down later,’ said Lady Élanor. Both guards bowed to her gratefully and retreated to wait.
After a brief, whispered conversation with Martha, Lady Élanor swung her long silver cloak over her shoulders and pulled the hood over her head. Then she and Wil fell into line behind the guards and all four walked out of Lovage Hall into the drizzling rain.
CHAPTER TEN
An Early Start
‘It was merely a precautionary measure, Lady Élanor,’ Morten Mortens explained in a pleasant tone. ‘Madam Fairfax here suggested that it might be wise u
nder the circumstances and if Tinniswood is still watching, it would send a clear message that we have things under control.’
Fermina Fairfax sat smugly at the end of the long oak table. Above her the menacing heads of the three Wraithe Wolves jutted grotesquely from the wall – a view that Wil had hoped never to see again!
He was standing once more in the Great Hall where his trial had taken place only three days before – although it felt like a lifetime ago. The four wizens; Fermina Fairfax, Godwyn Savidge, Oswald Beck and Agatha Peasgood sat on either side of the Grand Wizen in silent support while Morten Mortens tried to calm Lady Élanor who was stalking to and fro in front of them.
‘I find it hard to believe, Grand Wizen, that the Order does not trust me or my sister to deliver Master Calloway to you as we had agreed. This action is deeply insulting, your Worship, particularly in the light of the sacrifices that my sister and I have made for the people of Saran over the last thirteen years’.
‘Sacrifices? What sacrifices are these, Grand Wizen?’ Godwyn Savidge blurted out. ‘The people of Saran gave these girls a safe haven when many towns and villages closed their gates fearing Rexmoore’s rage. Since they have lived here, our town walls have doubled in height and our taxes have quadrupled!’
‘You also have the only Infirmary in the region and many of your children live today thanks to our medicines,’ retorted Lady Élanor, clearly outraged.
‘Many children in many other towns survive without your sorcery, my Lady!’ Savidge retorted.
‘I can assure you, Godwyn Savidge, that your son Giles would not have been one of the lucky ones!’ Lady Élanor hissed back.
‘If I could just step in there,’ interrupted the Grand Wizen hastily. ‘The town is, of course, more than grateful for your services Lady Élanor, and I can assure you I speak for everyone when I say that.’
He looked to the four wizens for support – three of whom reluctantly nodded back; Godwyn Savidge, however, kept his eyes fixed on Wil and did not nod. There was a fleeting hint of irritation in the Grand Wizen’s eyes as he turned back to face Lady Élanor, who had, at least, stopped pacing.
‘I am truly sorry, Lady Élanor, if you have been offended by our decision to call on Master Calloway a little earlier than originally agreed but, as he is here now, there seems little point in sending him back up to the Hall. I suggest that he goes to join the rest of the hunt - they are already gathering for tonight’s journey.’
Although he didn’t want to admit it, Wil could see that the Grand Wizen was right – there was no point in going back up to the Hall now, but he could also sense Lady Élanor’s smouldering anger at what had happened and also at what Godwyn Savidge had said – he silently thanked the Moons that Tally had not been there too!
As one, the group walked out of the Great Hall and headed back towards the jail-house. Lady Élanor did not object, which Wil felt, under current circumstances, was a good sign! So he fell into line behind the Order, flanked on both sides by two po-faced guards. It was only then that he noticed that all five Wizens were dressed in billowing magenta silk robes edged with - Wil guessed - grey Wraithe Wolf fur.
The drizzle had stopped and the thick blanket of cloud was starting to break up, allowing bright rays of silver light to escape over the far off Fells. Will sensed a buzz of tense excitement in the afternoon air - together with a delicious smell of roasting pork that wafted towards him on the breeze.
As Wil was marched down a narrow street people stopped to stare and one woman stood poised to throw what looked like a rotting piece of fruit, but Morten Mortens put up his hand as they got within hurling distance and they passed-by unmolested. But the party didn’t go into the main gates of the jail as Wil was expecting; instead they rounded the corner at the end of the building and entered a corralled yard - Wil gasped.
The yard and the field beyond were crowded with brightly-coloured tents; gaudy flags floated over-head and everywhere people were laughing and joking, talking or quaffing back huge jugs of beer. But as the group marched into the middle of the noisy throng a juggler dropped his batons and a knife-thrower’s assistant had a very close shave with a ribbon-decorated dagger!
‘This isn’t quite what I imagined,’ Wil whispered to Lady Élanor who had drawn level with his shoulder. She stood quietly while he drank in the scene. His mouth was suddenly very dry.
‘Don’t worry Wil; this is not all for your benefit. It is the first Moon Chase of the year – people will have travelled from Tel Hirith and Minton for this. It’s not just Saran’s animals that are in danger – but this time ours were the first to be attacked, so Saran must host the Moon Chase.’
A single booming bark to his right made Wil look round - there, in the fenced exercise yard of the jail, stood half-a-dozen fully-grown, absolutely massive Fellhounds – each one wearing a cast iron collar and chain. Nearby a group of young men and women talked and laughed. They all wore almost identical suits of thick leather and chain mail. Three of them also carried crossbows and one – tall and well-groomed - brandished a long broad sword that glinted in the emerging sunshine. Others leant casually on long spears. Godwyn, Fermina and Oswald immediately scurried over to join the group, where they were welcomed with lots of back-patting and hearty-hugging.
‘I’m guessing they’re the Fellmen,’ whispered Wil - suddenly feeling very small and very inadequate. At least two of them were easily as tall as Wil and certainly older, and what the others lacked in height they seemed to make up for in finely-toned muscle! Under their leather and mail, it was obvious that they were all supremely fit young people.
‘They train hard,’ Lady Élanor told him in a hushed voice. ‘Don’t forget Wil, this is not a game, their lives depend on their strength and speed.’
At that moment another burly body was welcomed with open arms and more vigorous back-patting – Wil’s heart continued its downward path.
‘I don’t stand a chance.’
‘There you are! I’ve been waiting ages!’ said a waspish voice.
Tally was elbowing her way through the throng – still looking very cross. She was struggling with a long bag that was slung over her shoulder. It looked packed to bursting and, by the way Tally was staggering, Wil guessed it was heavy. Pink cheeked and breathless, she threw the bag to the ground where it landed with a dull thud at Wil’s feet.
‘Did you find out why they called Wil so soon?’ Tally asked immediately. She ignored the Grand Wizen and Ms Peasgood who were standing only a few feet away.
‘Apparently it was a precautionary measure, Talasina,’ replied her sister loudly, for the benefit of anyone listening. ‘They wanted to send a message to Sir Jerad - just in case he is watching – that the Order is not to be trifled with.’
‘Oh, well dragging an innocent person into imminent danger should do it then!’ Tally retorted tartly.
‘Talasina!’ warned Lady Élanor darkly under her breath.
Wil could see that Tally was about to come out with a pithy retort when a great whoop went up from the Fellmen, followed by excited cheers from the crowd. Wil looked over - a young man dismounted from a sleek black horse. Without a glance he handed the reins to a small, grubby boy and turned towards the cheering crowd. Wil gasped. The young man would have been extremely good-looking but for a great scar across his left eye and his nose, half of which, together with his left ear, were missing!
Tally glowered at the group.
‘I see Giles is still the golden boy – despite everything! Arriving on his father’s horse, too – huh! Pretending to be a Chaser!’
‘Is that the boy who was up at the stables this morning – Giles Savidge?’ Wil asked her under his breath. He wasn’t sure if he was more surprised at the boy’s appearance, the fact that he was older than he had sounded that morning, or how popular he appeared to be! ‘What happened to his face?’
‘That rather depends on who you choose to believe, Wil!’ spat Tally and threw an insolent look towards the Grand Wizen and Madam Pe
asgood. But they were in earnest conversation with a pie seller and didn’t notice. She went on in a low but positively acidic tone.
‘You see, Wil, Giles Savidge is of the firm opinion that being a Bearer is below him. A few years ago, during a particularly difficult Moon Chase, he abandoned his fellow Bearers - leaving them to fend for themselves - and followed the Chasers up onto Tel Harion. When they started to drive a young male Wraithe Wolf down towards the Bearers - through Thesker Pyke - Giles was trapped in the wrong place. He had a lucky escape, especially with the injuries he got. But if it hadn’t been for Eli Giles Savidge would be up on Tel Harion now, baying at the moon!’
Wil glanced at Lady Élanor. Her eyes were fixed on the revelling group but he could tell that she was listening to Tally.
‘Is that what you meant earlier, when you said that Giles would not have been one of the lucky ones?’ Wil asked her.
‘Yes, Wil,’ Lady Élanor replied, without taking her eyes off the Fellmen. ‘By the time they got him back to Lovage Hall he’d lost a lot of blood and his wounds had become badly infected. I did my best - but the physical damage had already been done.’
In the centre of the noisy group Giles’s voice was over-loud. Wil frowned.
‘I don’t understand – he let down the other Bearers and put everyone in danger - and they’re treating him like a hero. And you saved him but his father was horrible and rude to you?’
‘When the Chasers found Giles, he told them that the two Bearers had driven the wolf back towards him instead of killing it – they were younger and less experienced than him and for one, Cae, it was his first hunt. Giles told everyone that he had been injured trying to kill the wolf single-handed due to the incompetence of the other two. He even showed them his empty bolt bag, claiming to have used all his bolts in the fight. By then the wolf lay slain – one deadly accurate shot into its heart – but it was impossible to tell whose bolt it was.’
