The Terrible Trickster
Page 4
‘No – the real trickster,’ said Tommy as a red-haired knight appeared. ‘Reynard, this is Sir Ferdinand Foxe. He’s your great-grandfather.’
‘My – my – eeeeek!’ Reynard let out a terrified shriek and fled from the room.
Sir Ferdy shook his head. ‘That’s my great-grandson?’ He sounded disappointed. ‘Seems like a cowardy custard to me.’ He looked around the armoury – at the fire glowing in the fireplace, at the stack of shields awaiting repair on Smith’s bench, at the long rack of swords visible through the door to the sword chamber – then sighed. ‘It’s been wonderful to see dear old Flamant Castle again,’ he said. ‘But it’s time for me to move on. Perhaps Roses Castle could use some haunting …’
‘We’ll see you off,’ Tommy offered. She wanted to be sure that the trickster really did leave!
The ghost faded into thin air, then Tommy and Lil walked with him to the stables. Tommy couldn’t see Sir Ferdy’s bay stallion, but she could guess where he was from the indignant neighs coming from the horses’ stalls.
Some minutes later she heard a softly called ‘Goodbye’, and a faint clatter of hooves.
‘He’s gone,’ said Lil with satisfaction. ‘Now things can get back to normal around here.’
When they returned to the armoury, they saw Sir Benedict standing in the doorway of the bow chamber. He turned and beckoned them over.
Reynard was sitting on his stool in the bow chamber, a large orange ring painted around each eye.
The physician was standing beside the Keeper of the Bows with a pot and a brush. ‘I found this poor lad out in the great courtyard screaming that he had seen a ghost. Of course, that’s not possible. Clearly his eyes are playing tricks on him. Fortunately, I happen to know the cure for Trick Eye: carrot juice mixed with pigeon droppings.’ He dabbed some more of the orange mixture on Reynard.
‘It’s not my eyes – she did it!’ Reynard shouted, pointing at Tommy. ‘She played a terrible trick on me.’
‘Is this true, Tommy?’ Sir Benedict asked. His voice was grave, but Tommy saw that his eyes were twinkling.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ she said. ‘But I promise there’ll be no more tricks at Flamant Castle.’
The knight put a hand on her shoulder. ‘You did well to find the trickster, Tommy,’ he said quietly. ‘Good work.’ Then he raised his voice. ‘Though there are some tricks that knights find very useful.’
Tommy looked at him uncertainly. ‘There are?’
‘Absolutely,’ said the knight. ‘Sword-fighting tricks! Bring Jasper out to the courtyard and I’ll show you some.’
‘Yes, sir!’ said Tommy. Her heart felt as light as a feather as she hurried off to fetch her sword.
CHAPTER 1
‘SIR WALTER …’
Clang!
‘In the great courtyard.’
Clang!
Tommy put the sword she was holding on the bench. ‘Did you hear something, Lil?’ she asked the black and white cat sitting on the stone floor of the sword chamber.
Lil, who had been polishing her whiskers while Tommy polished swords, paused in her grooming. ‘I thought I heard something about Sir Walter,’ she said.
Tommy went to the doorway of the sword chamber and saw that a page had entered the armoury and was standing in front of the smith.
The ringing sound of hammer on metal ceased as Smith stilled his hand. ‘What was that you said, lad?’
‘Sir Walter the Bald wants everyone to gather in the great courtyard,’ the boy announced.
Tommy and Lil exchanged looks. Why would Sir Walter the Bald, the nobleman who owned Flamant Castle, call everyone together?
‘Do you know why, lad?’ Clearly Smith was wondering the same thing.
‘No, sir. Sir Benedict just asked me and the other pages to deliver the message to all corners of the castle.’ And the boy darted off.
The smith laid down his hammer. ‘That’s mighty strange,’ he muttered. ‘And on Sir Benedict’s orders, he says.’ Sir Benedict was Flamant Castle’s bravest knight.
‘What is it, Smith?’ Tommy asked. ‘Do you think our enemies are attacking?’ Her heart began to beat faster.
The smith shook his grizzled head. ‘I don’t know, Sword Girl. We’d best join the others in the courtyard and find out.’ He raised his voice. ‘Reynard?’
There was no answer from the bow chamber.
‘Reynard!’
At last the Keeper of the Bows emerged from the bow chamber, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
‘What is it?’ the red-haired boy asked grumpily. ‘I was busy.’
Tommy wasn’t sure she believed him. It looked to her as if Reynard had been asleep.
‘Sir Walter wants to see us,’ the smith said.
Tommy could hear the murmur of voices as the courtyard outside the armoury began to fill with people. She was about to follow Smith and Reynard out the door when she realised she was still holding the rag she used for polishing swords. She darted back into the sword chamber, Lil at her heels.
‘What do you think is happening, Lil?’ Tommy asked as she dropped the rag next to a pot of clove-scented oil.
‘I haven’t a clue,’ said the cat. ‘But it must be important. I can’t remember the last time Sir Walter ordered everyone to gather like this.’
‘What’s important?’ came a voice from the shadows. ‘Tell me, dearie.’
Tommy glanced at the small rack of swords that stood in the room’s darkest corner. When she had first become Flamant Castle’s Keeper of the Blades, caring for all the bladed weapons in the armoury, she had been surprised to find a collection of dusty, neglected swords. Known as the Old Wrecks, these were swords that had never been carried into battle, and thus were never used by the knights. But Tommy had discovered that the swords were inhabited by the spirits of their previous owners. That the Old Wrecks could talk – and many of the castle’s animals too – was a secret known only to her and Sir Benedict.
‘Sir Walter has ordered everyone to the great courtyard,’ Tommy told Nursie, the sabre that had spoken.
‘Ooh, what could my little darling be up to?’ Nursie wondered. ‘It’ll be a wonderful treat for you all, I’m sure.’ Nursie had been Sir Walter’s nursemaid when he was a boy, and she always referred to the nobleman as her ‘little darling’.
‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ said a long-handled dagger in a deep voice. ‘It sounds serious to me.’
‘What would you know, Bevan Brumm?’ the sabre demanded. ‘You were a merchant. I’m sure I know more about the workings of the castle than you.’
Before the argument could go any further, Jasper Swann, a slender sword that had belonged to a squire close to Tommy’s own age, said, ‘You’d better go.’
Just then the smith called impatiently, ‘Are you coming, Sword Girl?’
‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ Tommy promised the Old Wrecks, then hurried out to join the throng.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FRANCES WATTS was born in the medieval city of Lausanne, in Switzerland, and moved to Australia when she was three. After studying literature at university she began working as an editor. Her bestselling picture books include Kisses for Daddy and the 2008 Children’s Book Council of Australia award-winner, Parsley Rabbit’s Book about Books (both illustrated by David Legge). In 2012 she won the Prime Minister’s Literary Award for Children’s Fiction for Goodnight, Mice! (illustrated by Judy Watson). Frances is also the author of a series about two very unlikely superheroes, Extraordinary Ernie and Marvellous Maud, and the highly acclaimed children’s fantasy/adventure series, the Gerander Trilogy.
Frances lives in Sydney’s inner west, and divides her time between writing and editing. Her cat doesn’t talk.
ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR
GREGORY ROGERS has always loved art and drawing so it’s no surprise he became an illustrator. He was the first Australian to win the prestigious Kate Greenaway Medal. The first of his popular wordless picture book series, The
Boy, the Bear, the Baron, the Bard, was selected as one of the Ten Best Illustrated Picture Books of 2004 by the New York Times and short-listed for the Children’s Book Council of Australia Book of the Year Award in 2005. The third book, The Hero of Little Street, won the CBCA Picture Book of the Year in 2010. Gregory loves movies and music, and is a collector of books, antiques and anything odd and unusual.
He lives in Brisbane above a bookshop cafe with his cat Sybil.