Moon Chase - A Fellhounds of Thesk Story

by Farr, Cathy;

  Unable to put off dismounting any longer, Wil stiffly dragged his leg over the back of the horse and slid off. As he hit the ground a sharp pain shot up his legs, over his very sore bottom and into his back. If that was what riding did for you, he definitely did not want to make a habit of it!

  ‘So, what’uv you brought, Calloway?’ demanded Giles, through another bready-mouthful. He ripped the bag from Wil’s back before Wil could answer and started to rummage through its contents.

  Out-numbered and helpless, Wil felt he had no choice but to answer.

  ‘Oh, I… I don’t know – they packed it for me…’

  ‘Ah, Lady Élanor packed you a nice warm cloak to stop you getting chilly.’ Giles held up old Mister Barrowman’s cloak in mock admiration, then let it fall into the dirt and continued his raid, ‘Oh, and a wash bag – pink! Nice – did she pack your toothbrush and some soap?’

  With a sneer, he threw the small pink silk bag into a thorny bush without a second glance. It landed right in the middle and swung from a Y-shaped branch. Wil could feel his anger rising.

  ‘Oh – at last – food! Pie, yum – my favourite!’ said Giles, dropping the bag.

  He unpacked the pie and tore large chunks from it with his teeth. Then, still munching, he trod on Wil’s bag, flung his arm roughly around Olivia’s shoulder and dragged her off to join Leon and Mortimer.

  Wil stepped forward and gathered up the crumpled bag and the cloak. He reached in and retrieved a squashed piece of Martha’s honey cake. Anger bubbled up inside him. He glowered over at Giles who was laughing with Leon, and then turned and hurled the mangled cake into the darkness.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry about that. Giles just gets a bit carried away sometimes.’

  Wil looked round for the source of the voice. Gisella Fairfax was tying her horse to the bush that held Wil’s cloth bag.

  ‘He should be, if you ask me,’ muttered Wil, more to himself than to Gisella. He was busy fighting the very strong desire to go over and push the rest of Martha’s pie down Giles’s throat - in one piece!

  ‘I’ve got some cheese I could share with you if I can have some of that bread,’ offered Gisella. She was smiling at last and looking down at Wil’s hands. ‘Unless you’re going to batter Giles with it?’

  Wil followed her amused gaze. He hadn’t realised that he was holding a long baton of freshly baked bread that had escaped Giles’ clomping feet. He must have taken it out of the bag absent-mindedly and, in his anger, was crushing the end that he was holding.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The Moon Chase

  Once the fire was alight, Emmet fed the hounds and then joined everyone as they sat down to eat, rest and prepare for the Moon Chase.

  Mortimer Merridown leant against a rock with his cloak wrapped tightly around him against the night chill. In the light of the flickering fire Wil watched as he started to mark out a simple map in the dirt. With the point of the broadsword that Wil had seen earlier, Mortimer drew a small circle and started to outline his plan to the Fellmen.

  ‘Right, we’re here – not far from the east end of Thesker Pyke – you’ll remember that well, I’m sure, Savidge,’ he said grinning at Giles proudly.

  Giles shifted uncomfortably and suddenly seemed to take a great interest in a stone on the ground in front of him.

  ‘Eh, yer – ‘course I do. Not sure I could forget that place in a hurry – we’ll probably find some of the bolts I had to fire off - that wolf put up one hell of a fight, I can tell you!’

  Wil looked at the faces around the glowing fire. Olivia Drews, Curtis Waller and Emmet MacPhee sat rapt in admiration for the hero who had, he claimed, taken on a Wraithe Wolf single-handed and lived to tell the tale. Leon Beck gave Giles a hearty pat on the back. With an amiable grin, Mortimer returned to his sketch and continued.

  ‘Thesker Pyke butts up against the edge of Skelmer Hollow – the west end of the Hollow, here, leads into a narrow gully that drops down into Dead Man’s Beck – named for reasons you will see when we get there. On the other side of the Beck is Brom’s Lair.’

  ‘So, we’re gonna drive the wolves across into Brom’s Lair!’ interrupted Giles. By the smug look on his face, it was obvious that Giles thought he had anticipated Mortimer’s plan before the Chaser could share it. But Mortimer was quick to put him right.

  ‘No. The Beck’s too wide to cross there, Giles. And anyway, didn’t you know that Wraithe Wolves hate the water? And anyway, if they get that far they could easily just escape back up on to Tel Harion – and, by then, they’ll know we’re around!’

  Mortimer studied the lines and curves that he had just sketched-out into the rough ground and tapped his lips with the hilt of his sword. After a few minutes he continued as if he’d come to a decision. ‘No. Waller, MacPhee, Lum and Drews - you’ll come with me up around the back of the Hollow along the edge between the Pyke and Tel Harion – that’s where the last deer was taken this morning.’

  ‘Where do you want us to wait, Mortimer?’ asked Gisella. She had been sitting with her chin on her arm, quietly studying Mortimer’s dirt map.

  ‘I think the best place for the Bearers is along here,’ said Mortimer, pointing to the western half of the Hollow, nearest the entrance to the Beck.

  ‘OK,’ but isn’t the northern side of the Hollow, by here, a fairly shallow-sloped rock fall’ Gisella asked, circling the spot with a stick. ‘Won’t we run the risk of the wolves climbing out via that route if we drive them all the way down?’

  ‘Hmm, good point, Fairfax, I’d forgotten about that fall,’ frowned Mortimer.

  ‘One of us could stand half way up it with a burning torch?’ Leon suggested. ‘Wraithe Wolves absolutely hate fire, so we’d be sure to stop them picking that way if they did make a run for it!’

  In the fire-light Wil could see that everyone except for Giles was now concentrating on the map – Giles flicked Leon’s ear spitefully and idly threw stones off into the darkness. Mortimer’s eyes darted towards the sullen boy but he continued to address the others, who were all listening intently.

  ‘Well, it’s a good idea, but it could be dangerous if we get a really determined wolf – you know what some of the older ones can be like – they know the area really well!’

  ‘I know the perfect person!’ Giles piped up, suddenly interested again. ‘It would be the perfect job for our captive audience – Wil Calloway!’

  ‘That’s hardly fair, Giles!’ Gisella objected. ‘I doubt he’s even seen a Wraithe Wolf before, let alone fought one off – and he’s not even armed!’

  ‘Well, he is supposed to be involved in some way, Gisella – after all, this is his trial,’ said Mortimer. Encouraged by Mortimer’s support, Giles carried on brightly.

  ‘I know – he can have my spare crossbow and I’ll give him a couple of bolts, too. That way he’ll have a chance to defend himself. There’s no point in giving him too many though, as he won’t have time to reload if he misses with the first one anyway!’ His mocking eyes looked straight at Wil – Wil wondered if Giles suspected that Wil had heard the argument with Bryn that morning and tried to keep his expression blank. He fixed his gaze on the glowing embers of the fire.

  Gisella’s eyes flashed as she took up the challenge,

  ‘So how did you manage to use up all your bolts when you were attacked then, Giles?’ Wil was starting to get the distinct impression that - despite her apparent display of camaraderie at the Moon Chase Festival earlier - Gisella did not like Master Savidge.

  ‘Easy Fairfax, I’m just excellent with a crossbow - and I’m much more experienced than you! I don’t have to prove anything – I survived, didn’t I? So I must have done something right!’

  He jumped to his feet and walked across to the horses, kicking a stone aggressively into the darkness as he went. Olivia got up, scowled at Gisella and scampered away to join him. In the distance Wil could see Giles doing press-ups.

  ‘Well, I think it’s a good idea, anyway,’ said Leon. He wa
s still studying the map, determined not to give in. ‘Look. The three of us need to be stationed where we can get the best shot as early as we can. If the wolf gets onto those rocks it’ll be too late anyway. If Calloway is supposed to be here to join in, I think it’s the best employment for him and if the wolf doesn’t go up there he’ll be out of harm’s way – and ours. And as a last resort, if he has got the chance of a shot – well, he might be lucky and we might bag the beast before it gets away!’

  ‘And if he’s not lucky,’ said Gisella.

  Mortimer leant forward, elbows on his knees - his eyes flickering gold and red as he looked into the dancing flames. He spoke quietly.

  ‘That is what this trial is all about, Gizzy. If he fights and survives he goes free, if he dies trying – well, the Order will say that it proves he was guilty as charged – either way, his trial’s over!’

  Wil fixed his gaze on the fire - he, at least, didn’t need reminding.

  At last the plan was agreed and everyone stood waiting for the order to move off. Mortimer, holding a flaming torch in one hand, led his horse forward to deliver his final briefing.

  ‘Right, Waller, Lum bring Cali and Stella and follow me – we’ll go up across the top of Skelmer Hollow and out on to the Fell. Drews and MacPhee - follow us up to the old oak tree at Ebb Hole and stay there with Sharus and Drago until you hear me shout - or you see a wolf! If you do, set the hounds out. Do you all have your whistles with you?’

  Everyone nodded except Wil. Gisella pulled out a silver whistle hanging from a long chain hung around her neck. Her eyes crossed as she watched it swing in front of her nose - Mortimer went on.

  ‘Remember its two short blasts if you spot a wolf, two long blasts when you kill it and one hard, long blast if you’re in trouble.’

  Everyone nodded again except Wil.

  ‘Savidge, Beck and Fairfax, spread out on either side of the eastern end of the Hollow so that you can see the old path between the rocks – make sure your bows are loaded and ready. Take a shot as soon as you can.’

  Then he turned and handed his torch to Wil, who was standing a little way from the group, desperately hoping that they had forgotten about him. But they hadn’t.

  ‘Calloway, take this and follow the Bearers. You’ll need to climb up the rock fall that we were talking about earlier - Leon will show you where, OK Leon?’ Leon gave a single grave nod. ‘Get yourself about two-thirds of the way up and hunker down - keep your eyes open and listen. When you hear the whistle, get ready in case you need to take a shot. OK?’

  As soon as Mortimer finished speaking he turned and mounted his horse without waiting for Wil to answer. Then he stopped.

  ‘By the way,’ he said looking back at Wil. ‘You can use a bow - can’t you?’

  ‘Just about!’ answered Wil. He kept his voice quiet and level. Back at home he’d always preferred some sort of blade, either a broadsword, like Mortimer’s, or a throwing knife. He wasn’t sure how Lady Élanor or Tally knew this, but along with the food and cloak in his bag, Tally had packed a short hunting knife, carefully wrapped in a muslin cloth. He had found it while checking to see if there was any more food in there – Giles had overlooked it when he was ransacking Wil’s bag earlier.

  The knife was now carefully tucked into Wil’s belt, under his cloak – he certainly felt a little better knowing it was there.

  Finally everyone was ready. The Fellhounds sniffed the ground and roamed restlessly. Without success, Wil tried to look into their minds, but he did get a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t quite define.

  ‘Well, good luck everyone,’ said Mortimer, checking his saddle one more time. He cast a quick glance up at the sky – the moons were nowhere to be seen. ‘Let’s hope we can bag these brutes long before dawn and get home in time for breakfast!’

  Just then a spine-tingling howl echoed out of the blackness - Mortimer’s dark eyes twinkled in the torch-light.

  ‘OK, Everyone – let’s go on a Moon Chase!’ He raised his sword, turned his horse and kicked it into a gallop. In a cloud of dirt and pine needles the other Chasers gripped their spears and took off after him – each one shadowed by a great bounding hound.

  Wil stood with the three Bearers and watched the Chasers disappear. The strange knot in his stomach twisted and tightened. His burning torch glowed in the midnight blackness. Every now and then one of the moons ducked out from behind a cloud and bathed the lonely hills in silver light.

  Something flapped across the sky above them. Pricilla! Will thought. But Giles cursed loudly.

  ‘Damned eagards! We’d better all take torches or we won’t make it to the Hollow without one of us losing our eyes!’

  Gisella and Leon followed Giles back to the fire. They quickly made-up more torches by wrapping sticky, tallow-soaked cloths around the ends of some of unburned branches that Emmet had collected earlier.

  ‘Right, well that should keep them burning for long enough’ said Giles, wiping his tacky fingers in Wil’s cloak and lighting his own torch in the dying embers of the camp fire. ‘Is everyone set? Let’s go.’

  ‘Hang on Giles, I thought you were going to give Wil your spare bow and some bolts?’ said Gisella, not moving from the fire.

  ‘Well, blow me – I clean forgot!’ Giles said, slapping himself on the forehead in mock reproach. ‘D’you know - I don’t think I brought it!’

  He turned to go. Wil heard a very definite click.

  ‘Giles, unless you produce your spare crossbow now I will shoot you with mine!’

  Wil’s stomach flipped. Giles stopped abruptly and turned. Gisella stood, feet slightly apart and shoulders square, her crossbow primed and ready to shoot – she was aiming directly at Giles’s knee.

  ‘Steady on there, Fairfax – hey, Beck – this girl just can’t take a joke!’ said Giles and with a slightly high-pitched laugh he walked to his pack and pulled out a second bow, which he thrust towards Wil. Wil who took it without taking his eyes off Gisella - much as his own dislike for Giles Savidge was increasing by the minute - it was not going to look good if Giles was shot by one of the other Bearers in Wil’s defence!

  ‘And some bolts, Giles!’ Gisella ordered. Her finger hovered dangerously over the tickler. She held her bow steady.

  Wil held his breath. He was too scared to do, or say, anything in case she accidentally - or otherwise - released the bolt.

  ‘It’s OK Gisella, he can have some of mine,’ said Leon hastily offering Wil a handful of bolts before Giles tried something stupid like calling her bluff. ‘Here, have four – eleven should be enough for me… as long as everyone else has plenty.’

  Giles was livid. He obviously hadn’t believed that Gisella would shoot him – Wil, on the other hand, was not so sure!

  Leon was first to move off.

  ‘Come on everyone – they’ll be driving those wolves down into an empty trap if we don’t get a move on!’

  At last Gisella lowered her bow. But Giles went back to Mortimer’s map and, with the tip of one of his bolts he drew the shape of a skull over Dead Man’s Beck, then he walked back very close past her and stopped abruptly.

  ‘You’ll pay for that, Fairfax,’ he hissed. ‘Just make sure you aren’t standing opposite me later when I’m aiming for the wolf – I might miss!’

  The journey to Skelmer Hollow was much shorted than Wil had expected. Not a word had been spoken since they left the camp and Wil was struggling to see how they would be able to work as a team in their current mood, but he dared not say anything for fear of sparking off another altercation. As it was he was worried enough about having to fight off a Wraithe Wolf – let alone trying to stop its hunters from killing each other!

  But, despite his anxiety, he couldn’t help being impressed by Gisella – especially after everything that Lady Élanor had said about the Fellmen being in Godwyn Savidge’s pocket. He was surprised too that she was being quite so friendly towards him - after all, he was accused of trying to murder one
of her fellow Fellmen and it had been very obvious to Wil that Fermina Fairfax was completely convinced of his guilt. In fact, if there was to be a hanging he was certain that Gisella’s mother would be in the front row!

  Suddenly two short, piercing whistle blasts shattered the sulky silence. Giles immediately took control.

  ‘Quick! Get into your positions,’ he commanded. ‘Fairfax, go to that tree stump down there, Beck – over to the other side about half way between me and Fairfax.’

  Without a word Leon and Gisella melted into the blackness. But Giles stayed put. He stepped in front of Wil and offered up his burning torch.

  ‘Calloway – you’d better take my torch, too - climb up those rocks over there – go on!’

  Warily Wil took it and, trying to hold both torches, the crossbow and the bolts, made to move off.

  ‘Wait!’ Giles ordered and swiped the bolts from Wil’s hand. With a sneer, he tucked three of them into the long pockets of his own jacket with his others and slid the one remaining bolt under Wil’s already laden arm. ‘As I said earlier – you’ll only need one of those!’

  Then, with a cruel laugh, he too jogged off into the night.

  Anger burned in the back of Wil’s throat making it difficult to breathe. In the glow of the tallow torch-light, he struggled to hold back tears of frustration and swore to himself that somehow he would get back at that bully, Giles Savidge – and make amends for what Giles did to Cae Wheeler and Ellyn Parry in the process!

  With some difficulty in the darkness, Wil eventually found the rock-fall that Gisella and Mortimer had described. Conveniently, the clouds covering both moons broke at once, illuminating a great wedge where the rocky escarpment had collapsed. Not being a huge fan of heights at the best of times Wil looked up at the climb ahead of him and gasped. Fallen rocks and boulders the size of Fellhounds were piled one on top of the other and the whole uninviting heap overflowed treacherously across the entrance of the Hollow. By the look of the thick moss that covered each rock, the fall had not been recent and Wil quickly discovered how difficult it was to scramble across them wearing a cloak that was far too big for him, with his arms full of torches, Giles’s bow and his one precious bolt.