“Well, if they are, that is the biggest boar I’ve ever seen,” said Noah. “I’ve seen stuffed boar heads on the walls of a Swiss mountain lodge in the Alps, and once in the hall of a German count. None of those heads was anywhere near the size of that one. It must have topped five hundred pounds.”
“Oh, well, yes, what a relief! We have nothing to worry about, now that we know the boar is not a magical creature,” said Faye sarcastically. “I say, let’s hope we’re only passing through. We don’t need to add wild boars to our list of threats.”
“Why, Faye,” Noah said in feigned shock, “you don’t fancy living among the wild boars? Don’t you have some boars in your palace, milady?”
“You are a bore, Lady Noah,” she said, falsely sweet, “and I have to live with you.”
“Well,” Miss Brett said. Though she was relieved to know that they were not being pursued by monsters, she knew they were not out of danger. She tried taking another deep breath. She wanted to feel relief that the creature was away from them and they would all be fine. But her children were not going to be fine if that evil man was still in pursuit. Her breath caught in her throat. How could she protect them?
She placed a smile firmly on her lips. But her hand shook as she passed out cups of tea and biscuits. She took some of the hot water and poured it on a clean tea towel. She spoke gently as she cleaned Lucy’s wound. “I think we all could use some sweet tea and, perhaps, some air. I went outside this morning and the view is lovely.”
“Did you learn anything, Miss Brett?” said Faye, stirring sugar in her cup of tea, her hand still unsteady from her own ordeal in the cave. Faye was not good at being helpless.
Noah, on the other hand, had already discovered the biscuits and was helping himself to them, two at a time. His appetite generally tripled when he was anxious.
“No,” said Miss Brett. “Only that it is beautiful outside.”
“As long as the boar doesn’t have any big brothers looking for him,” mumbled Noah.
“The boars are not our only worry,” said Jasper, thinking of last night’s explosion.
“Too bad we don’t have a wall around us,” Noah said. “One tall enough to keep out Komar Romak as well as those wild boars.”
By the time they were done with breakfast, they were calmer. Lucy clung to both Miss Brett and Jasper, insisting on sitting between them. Then the driver in the impossibly huge top hat urged them to follow him outside. Waiting there were two carriages. One had a pile of bags upon it. The other was empty, and the driver loaded the bags the children and Miss Brett had brought.
As they began to board, Miss Brett heard the sound of falling rocks, and jumped. But nothing hit the ground. Miss Brett looked up. The noise seemed to come from above them. Then there was a cry. It sounded like a scream of fear or sorrow—a throaty, gasping cry. It sounded human.
“Children!” cried Miss Brett, counting heads twice to be sure they were all there.
“Look!” Lucy pointed to the branch of a tree growing from a craggy edge above the cave. On a bare branch sat a huge black bird,
“Aaaow!” came the bird’s cry, sounding almost like someone being strangled.
“Come, children.” Miss Brett ushered the children into the carriage. Her nerves were frazzled, and she just wanted them all together in a single carriage, close together and safe. She looked up toward the black bird before stepping into the car. A shiver ran up her spine.
She shook her head and looked up again.
The bird had flown off.
The driver of their carriage closed the door once they were all inside. Another man in a square cap and dark square glasses drove the pre-loaded carriage. He nodded, then took off the way they had come. The children boarded the carriage, and they headed down the way they had been going.
They were quiet for some time. Miss Brett handed out lap robes so each child could keep their legs warm on the ride. Looking over the side of the mountain, they saw a wreck of a carriage and a pile of burnt rubble. The remains were still smoldering—a sobering sight indeed.
Miss Brett had to turn away. She tried to keep those thoughts from filling her head once again. Monsters with tusks were the least of their fears.
Though she did not truly want an answer, she could not keep the question from rising in her thoughts: Was it indeed Komar Romak once again?
It was clear from the direction the carriage took that they were going back over already traveled ground and zigzagging through the mountains. The carriage had a working brazier, like the first one, and a hamper of treats for passengers as well. Exhausted from the preceding events, from crashing carriages to monstrous meetings, the children (at the urging of their teacher) took a rest. Miss Brett spoke soothingly and Lucy was the first to close her eyes. Noah was next, but Wallace squirmed as if he could not get comfortable.
“I’m here, sweet angel,” Miss Brett said, caressing the little boy’s back.
“Miss Brett.” Wallace did not know if he could ask this. “We’re so far away from where our parents were. Do you think we will . . . are we ever going to . . .”
“I am sure they are fine. Look, Wallace, you know that these men have never hurt us.” Miss Brett’s voice was strong and reassuring. “They are surely protecting your parents, too.” This seemed to bring Wallace some comfort.
“Was there something else?” Of course, there was something else, Miss Brett thought. There was so much else,
“Do you think those giant pigs are going to come near us again?”
“Now don’t worry about that,” she said with a smile. “A boy who won a battle against an evil villain couldn’t possibly fear a pig, no matter how big its teeth.” She kissed Wallace on the head and he, too, fell asleep. Miss Brett closed her eyes too. She hoped they’d arrive somewhere soon. It was getting dark early in these late autumn days. As she began to doze, she hoped they wouldn’t be traveling into the darkness,
Only Jasper and Faye were awake.
“I’m sorry I wandered off, Jasper,” Faye said. Jasper had been furious with her, and she did not like it. She had felt the weight of his anger and it hurt. The hurt was stronger than almost anything she felt—at that moment, it was stronger even than her anger toward the mysterious men in black. Her thoughts went from anger at him for being mad at her to true remorse for causing them all to go into the wild boar’s cave.
“Well, it was not smart to go off like that,” Jasper said.
“You wandered off into the cave,” Faye said, but she said this without rancor.
“I did, didn’t I?” Jasper said. “Then I’m sorry, too.”
“Apology accepted,” she said, firmly.
Faye looked over at Jasper and saw, in the fading afternoon light, that Jasper was smiling. Faye smiled, too, and leaned her head against the glass. With a deep sigh, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. If things were right with Jasper, at least something in the world was right. Faye closed her eyes and, rather quickly, she, too, fell asleep.
Jasper reached and pulled Miss Brett’s cloak across the sleeping others. He leaned over to be sure Faye’s shoulders were covered. His hand brushed against her cheek, and she sighed again. He alone knew that there, in the darkening carriage, he was blushing.
By nightfall, it was clear that they were not stopping. Likely they were going to continue through the night. Only after Miss Brett begged the driver for a chance to throw off their lap robes and stretch their legs did they pull off the bumpy road onto a bumpier path and stop. By then, it was late, but the moon was bright and sparkled in the river water down below. They barely had a chance to notice how high in the hills they were before being ushered back into the carriage and, once again, heading off into the unknown. It wasn’t long before they could feel the carriage descending the hills again.
When dawn brought a thin layer of light that settled like the mist over the valley, the children yawned the sleep out of their eyes. Coming through the mountains in the dark and then down again had
not woken Wallace or Lucy, but Jasper woke with a start at every bump. As for Faye, she had been awake before the light made even a promise of rising. But now, the misty light made Wallace and Lucy stir as well. They were all awake—all except Noah, who continued to snore into Wallace’s ear.
Miraculously, Miss Brett had managed to heat water on the brazier, and had made tea for the lot of them. She opened the hamper and found there were still some buttery biscuits. She assumed it was the aroma of the baked goods that brought a large snort from Noah, and he sat bolt upright as if someone had called his name,
The carriage continued descending. There was just the hint of a coming winter. Hoarfrost covered the leaves on the trees, which, at that height, had seemingly frozen during the night. As they came down into the valley, they could almost see a line where the warmth began. It was definitely not cold enough for crystal dew down there. Instead, the leaves presented beautiful reds and oranges. Grape vines and olive trees blanketed the rolling fields,
“What a lovely fairytale,” Lucy said, and she was right. The whole valley, pristine and elegant, lay before them. The trees, or at least those that changed with the season, still held onto their autumn colors. And the villages looked like something right out of a story read by Miss Brett.
“Look!” Jasper pointed to an old wooden sign that no one was able to read. There were several wooden plaques that once must have been signs, all nailed to a post and all with letters too worn to read. But on one of the wooden signs, there was an arrow pointing in the direction they had just turned,
The children felt warm in their woolen coats, and cozy under the lap robes and blankets that lay across their legs, but as the carriage turned onto the winding road that led up to the village, and the children clambered for window space, the covers fell to the floor, unnoticed.
Fields spread out, surrounding the hill upon which a castle sat, a village beneath it. A creek that seemed to follow the curves of the road ran down the side of the hill and through the fields below,
“A bubbling brook,” said Lucy. “How lovely.”
“I don’t think you’d fancy a swim in it now, Lucy,” Noah said, pointing to the tiny crystals of ice formed where the water met the banks. It was colder up here in the mountains. It became clear, as the carriage trundled along, that they still had a ways to go. The children all settled back into their seats.
As the carriage came around the curve of the mountain pass, the children could see the patches of farms and houses that marked the little villages upon the hillsides.
“Oh, this is beautiful!” exclaimed Miss Brett, who had never in her life been to such a magical place.
“I’d like Rapunzel to let down her hair,” said Lucy pointing to the tall tower reaching skyward from a castle that sat at the top of a very steep hill.
As they pressed along, there was a long gap without any signs of civilization. Here on the outskirts, many of the houses were in ruins, the walls of the towns crumbling. Then, for a while, the yellows and golds and reds of the autumn leaves, the winding sliver of water cutting through the valley floor, and the surrounding hills were all they saw. The road itself changed from flat stone to dirt. There were several forks that seemed to go nowhere or circle back onto the road they had traveled.
It was more than an hour before the next village came into view. In fact, this village was alone on the crest of a tall hill that sloped gracefully up toward the ancient wall surrounding it.
Looking in every direction he could, Jasper could see for miles, and there was not another village, or even a single farmhouse, in sight.
Turning back, Jasper could see, even from a distance, that this particular village seemed better cared for than some of the others they had passed. It seemed to sparkle in a way, as if the stone wall had just been built with fresh new stone.
“Now that is a city wall,” Noah said. “That’ll keep out the boars.”
“Let’s hope it does the same for Komar Romak,” Faye added, under her breath.
The fields were in perfect alignment, and the houses, even the old farmhouses that peppered the hillside leading up to the surrounding wall, were immaculate on the outside. The whole area really did look like something straight out of a fairytale.
Looming high above the fields and vineyards, above everything in the village but the sky itself, was a castle. It was not huge, but it stood against the clouds like an ancient symbol of authority, looking down upon its valley, and upon the people that turned the soil, raised the cattle, grew the grapes, and harvested the olives. Although the gardens around the manor house were clearly tended with great care, the manor itself appeared empty, its halls likely silent but for the sound of the wind through the glassless windows,
The carriage made a left up a road that led toward the village— in fact, the only road that seemed to head serpentine through the village, the center of which was the castle or manor house. And it was then, as they came closer to the fields, that the children and Miss Brett saw the first signs of life. At the base of the crest were fields of green and vineyards laden with grapes on the vine. There they could see farmers working the land and harvesting the grapes. The five children watched as the farmers hoed and raked, trimmed and pruned, harvested and plucked.
And as the carriage drew closer, the five children and Miss Brett realized something all at once,
“It’s them!” Lucy pointed.
The farmers working in the fields, pruning and harvesting, may have been working in most ways exactly like any other farmers, but they hardly looked like them. The farmer with the plow wore a black stovetop hat and a black feather boa. The farmer with the hoe wore a pair of black, fluffy earmuffs and a long, black, furry tail that stuck out of his black dungarees. The farmer feeding the chickens in the clutch wore a black leather jerkin over black hose and pointed black shoes, a flat black sun hat shading his face. The farmer plucking grapes from the vines was wiping his brow on ribbons that fell from his ruffled black bonnet. All wore dark glasses or goggles and were too busy working to pay any attention to the approaching carriage.
But the people in the carriage certainly paid attention to the farmers. How could they not?
“Is everyone here, you know, one of them?” Noah said.
The children watched the fields and the men as the carriage turned up toward the village. The houses were closer together as they neared the village wall. Jasper could see how these houses were built, with chickens kept on the ground floor and what was likely a kitchen above so that the birds would be warm in the winter and eggs could be easily harvested without going outside. As they approached the great stone wall that protected the city, Wallace adjusted his glasses.
“It really is one of those ancient walls that surrounded towns and cities in olden times,” he noted, fascinated by the antiquity. “They built them to keep out intruders. They’re extremely thick and strong.”
“Only this village comes with its own marauding hordes,” Faye said, pointing at a particularly large man wearing a huge black ribbon tied in a bow upon his shaggy head. The man held a particularly small brown bantam hen and stroked her head gently
“Hordes, perhaps,” Noah said, “but marauding? Why, that fellow looks like a gentle giant.”
“If I were you, I would not be so trusting,” Faye warned.
“Ouch.” Noah cringed.
“What?” said Faye, eyebrow raised.
“If I were you? You’d rip me limb from limb and gut me before handing me back.” Noah cringed again. “No, indeed, I’ll be me on my own, thank you very much.”
Faye often would have liked to rip Noah limb from limb, and might have done so then had two people not been sitting between them—mostly because she feared Noah was right,
“Well, you can have you all to yourself,” Faye concluded. “I’ve had more than enough of you.”
It was Noah’s turn to raise an eyebrow.
The carriage came to a jerk of a halt. The driver began conversing with another mysteriou
s man in black wearing a very tall pointed hat and standing in the road. Jasper looked at the great gate to the town ahead. The entrance was a huge archway, built into the great stone wall. Above the gate were two ravens, chattering away, unconcerned with the newcomers.
An ancient carving was visible above the gate. Jasper realized it was a written sign carved into the stone. Ancient as the sign was, Jasper could make out some of the letters,
“‘VILLAGIO SOLEMANO,’” Wallace read aloud, sounding out the words. He, too, had been observing the sign. Beneath it were letters or symbols neither boy could recognize.
“It’s the name of our new village, isn’t it?” said Lucy with enthusiasm. “Only it’s very, very old indeed. A very old new village.” And she clapped her hands together and giggled. She then tilted her head and covered one eye with her fingers.
“What are you doing, Lucy?” asked Jasper.
“It’s like Sole Manner Farm,” Lucy said, now tilting her head the other way.
“What is?” asked Wallace, angling his head to see if he could see what she saw.
“It just is,” she said. “In a way.” Clapping her hands together, leaving behind whatever thoughts she had of Sole Manner Farm, she pointed up and waved at the two large black birds sitting on the stone wall. The other children soon forgot whatever Lucy was trying to say.
Presently, the carriage began to move again, passing slowly through the huge arch of the gateway. Jasper looked at the arch and noticed not only huge metal hinges, but, as they passed, giant ancient doors attached to them. The doors were opened to the inside and must have been two feet thick.
The Ravens of Solemano or The Order of the Mysterious Men in Black Page 15
