by Jem I Kelley
“Yes, come on Dazarian, come on Dazarian!” shouted Alicia. Aden turned to the tug-of-war contest. Gnashlok’s muscles were taut now. Gradually, he pulled the Achborians back. The steppe people with their ponytails and hide leggings, were losing.
The crowd booed and shouted at the referee.
Sardohan chuckled as he watched the scarf on the rope edge towards the Dazarian line.
“I think we’ve a chance of getting to the final on this one. Of course it was a combined effort; I don’t think our new fellow added too much to what was already a strong team.”
He gave Hamble a look of disdain.
“Shame you’re not human, street-cleaner, then the Haverlanders might have proved tough competition.”
“If Hamble was playing, his team would win easily,” said Aden, “Even without legs, he’s as tall as your new man. Stronger too I reckon.”
Hamble’s head gave a splintery sound as it swivelled from the tug-of-war match to the conversation.
“I think I’d still have trouble, Aden. Although I’d be able to pull the rope, I wouldn’t be able to step backwards with it. The game would last a very long time.”
Alicia sniffed: “Can we get something to drink father, I’m parched. It’s obvious we’re going to win all the tug of war rounds, the other teams are just pathetic.”
“Yes, of course my dear.”
The Dazarians turned towards the champagne tent.
Sardohan paused.
“Interesting suit you’re wearing, street-cleaner. It matches the lawn.”
“Thank you, Ambassador,” said Hamble his voice full of pride.
The Sardohan family departed and the man with the brown robes and sandals said: “I’m glad I don’t work in politics if they’re all like that.”
Aden noticed the man grew the most unkempt grey hair ever; he smelt funny too.
“I don’t think they’re all like that, Arple, me love,” said Molly May. “Them’s the worst of politics.”
Hamble extended a wooden arm towards the man.
“Arple, this is Aden Green and Bliss Todd. They work on the market. On the market they move things around. They were the ones who found those drug smugglers yesterday, and had that accident in one of your parks with the Cod. Aden, Bliss; this is my new friend Arple. He’s recently come to Haverland. He’s a druid. That means he looks after nature. He looks after nature by taking care of the parks for the King.”
The unkempt man smiled; his face weather worn, dirty and friendly: “Hello there children. I’ve heard about this ‘ere Grimus Spalding. What a surprise! An old man too...” Arple paused as Bliss sniffed and took a step back.
“The smell is it? Sorry about that. Parks full ‘o mosquitoes at the moment. I just applied a dash ‘O garlic to me self to ward them off”.
“Sorry about the cod sinking in your lake,” said Aden.
Arple laughed: “Aye, I bet you are! Anyhow no real ‘arm has been done. Don’t like off-world stuff really, it interferes wiv our own nature. However, after the workmen got the fish outta the lake, they let me cut off a few fillets, tastes gorgeous.”
Bliss’s mouth dropped.
“You ate it!”
“Aye, I ate some ‘O it. Why not? That’s what it’s for ain’t it?”
Aden and Bliss exchanged glances and laughed. Aden pictured large chunks of the fish sitting on a block of ice.
“I wish we’d thought of that.”
“Well, come by me ‘ouse some time and I’ll give you a chunk.”
“You’re on,” said Bliss.
Hamble lifted his huge hand and pointed to the bandstand.
“We’re off to listen to the brass band. I love the noise of brass bands. Trumpets sound good, tuba sound good too. Then we’re going on to Saib’s stall. We’re going to help him with his new recipe. You know about the new spice, don’t you Aden. It’s what you thought was drugs. It’s not drugs though it’s a spice and it tastes nice in Saib’s new recipes.”
The next few hours were entertaining. The friends listened to the band with Hamble and his friends. Then they went to Saib’s stall and Aden tried turmeric. It tasted strange: hot and spicy. Some people from a nearby fish and chip stall put their chips in the sauce made with turmeric. Aden and Bliss discovered the combination tasted lovely.
They left Hamble and his friends then, and watched other games like the sack race, the hammer throw and the caber toss.
During lunchtime, Aden and Bliss helped refill the guests’ glasses with champagne. They rejoined Hamble and his friends to watch the afternoon theatre performance which they found it boring. The following puppet show and clowns were better.
To top it all there came a display of strange creatures from foreign worlds, by Jack Hardcastle. This included: a dog-sized spider from Arachnie, A steam puffing contraption from Argent, A ‘living rock’ from Aristalsis (which to Aden’s eyes looked no different from any other rock) and a multi-coloured floater from Tropica.
Best, and last of all, Jack Hardcastle brought forth a Boo-Slang Blimp. He had it tethered on a string so it couldn’t fly away, and in exchange for it dropping stones on a target on the ground, Jack fed it with bits of meat.
The creature left Aden enthralled. Obviously it was only a baby because Kurt Hardcastle’s book spoke of Boo-Slang Blimps being able to drop head sized rocks. Also, the creature was not much bigger than a man, and Aden’d been under the impression an adult was the size of a house. The lower hemisphere of its body held the colour of sky, whilst the upper hemisphere a patchwork of browns and yellows. Perfect disguise, thought Aden against creatures above or below.
For some reason he’d imagined the body below the blimp would resemble a human. In fact there were two bird-like claws either side of a beak and feathered head.
The Six O’ Clock firework display capped a wonderful day and Aden decided it hadn’t hurt their expedition had been delayed to the next weekend.
The job of clearing up was finished by Eight.
“A reasonable job done by all, see you tomorrow,” said Hacknor curtly, at the end.
Chapter 42: Spud
“I’m whacked,” said Bliss, as they picked their way along a short-cut home: a shadowy lane leading from the Solant estate and running between Marchant Park and the Dazarian embassy. “Did you see the fangs on that spider?”
Aden did, and he shuddered.
“If there’s one artefact world I don’t want to go and visit, it’s the Arachnie one.”
They turned a corner. The curtain wall of the Dazarian embassy estate loomed to their left. The spiked railings surmounting the mortared granite sent moonlit striped shadows to the ground. To the friend’s right lay Marchant park, a ditch acted as boundary followed by trees stretching back into darkness.
“What do you think about earlier?” said Bliss. “Sardohan?”
Aden snorted.
“I wouldn’t trust him if he grew wings and developed a halo.”
Bliss smiled.
“Good. Just worried you’d been taken in by him.”
“No.”
A scream erupted from the darkness of trees to their right. A groan followed the scream causing Aden’s marrow to chill.
He peered and saw nothing but a darkness which threatened all manner of horrors.
“Someone’s being attacked,” he whispered.
Bliss stared into the shadows and her voice was faint.
“I can’t see a thing.”
The groan came again, fainter. It was as if a hand clasped a person’s mouth and they were struggling to break free of it.
Aden walked to where a rock the size of a fist lay. He took the rock and stared once more into the darkness. His body told him to stand still, to leave whatever was out there to fend for itself. Or better still to run along the path towards certain safety.
“Come on,” he said, to Bliss, “There’s two of us. Get a stone or something.”
He clambered across the ditch and into trees. Darkness enveloped him like a tighte
ned hood. He heard an oath from Bliss and then the sound of his friend following. Aden could just make out trees, they stood like darker shadows against the gloom; but, branches whipped his face and nettles struck his hands. Brambles clutched like tiny hands at his cloths.
He paused, heard a moan and stumbled towards it, fear singing through his body.
He passed a dark mound, perhaps a boulder, or the upturned stump of an ancient tree, and found himself in a glade where moonlight penetrated. Across the glade, within the shadows of a towering oak, lay a shape. Aden swallowed nervously, saw no-one else around, and approached.
It was a figure, motionless on the ground. Barely discernible as the boughs of the oak soaked up the moonlight falling on it.
Movement.
A groan issued from the figure.
Aden raced over and bent beside it.
A hand thrust out and gripped the front of his shirt.
The figure on the floor jerked himself to a sitting position and put a mouth to Aden’s ear, before Aden could react.
“Azabar,” said a strangled voice. “He called himself… Azabar.”
The words were delivered as if the man had to force them out.
“Who did?” whispered Aden.
“Azabar,” said the voice. “Haverland…” the hand on Aden’s shirt tightened and the figure gasped. “Haverland is at threat…. must stop…”
“How?” whispered Aden.
The hand on Aden’s shirt loosened and the man fell back.
“Azabar…” he said, weakly.
Aden’s heart was pumping wildly.
“Who is Azabar?” he asked.
The figure didn’t answer.
“Is Azabar a drug dealer?”
No reply.
“I think he’s dead.”
It was Bliss’s voice. Aden turned to see his friend standing there with a rock raised high in the air, ready strike the figure if it had attacked.
“See if he’s breathing.”
Aden bent forward and put an ear to the figure’s mouth.
“Can’t hear anything, but then all I can hear right now is my own heart.”
“Feel his pulse then.”
Aden felt for the man’s wrist. There was no movement there.
He let the wrist flop to the floor as felt his mouth went dry.
“He’s dead.”
Bliss knelt beside Aden.
“What do we do?”
Aden became aware of the danger they were in. He looked up from the body now and scanned the darkness. He shivered as he realised somebody or something could be watching them. Above him the leaves of the trees shivered as a cold breeze picked up. He and Bliss could be in danger, they must protect themselves.
“The murderer might be watching,” he whispered.
They scrambled to a standing position amongst the leaf litter, then stood back to back, peering into the darkness, each with their rock ready to throw. Aden tried to plan, but every shadow, disturbed his thoughts.
He saw a light, and heard a shout.
Someone called: ‘Police! Hello! Police!”
Aden listened. Could it be a ruse? No, surely the murderer wouldn’t be shining a light around? A murderer would sneak up and use surprise to strike. Wouldn’t he? A policeman patrolling would use a light, he’d have a lamp. That’s what that light must be, a lamp. The light moved away from them. Aden made a decision, and shouted.
“OVER HERE!”
Bliss’s voice sounded faint with fear.
“Did you have to do that!?”
“Yes. Get you’re rock ready.”
“D…don’t worry, could have done with me catapult though.”
The light changed direction; bobbed towards them. A figure crashed through the woods, and Aden raised his rock ready to throw it as hard as he could.
A figure burst into the clearing breathing heavily; he carried a lantern. He saw the friends and the body.
“I heard a scream. What’s happened?” Said a voice that was clearly Plumberts.
“Someone’s died,” said Aden.
“That you, Aden?”
“Yes.”
Plumbert stepped towards them, raising the lamp so that it shone on the boy’s faces. He swept the beam and stopped it on the body.”
“Who killed him?”
“We don’t know,” said Bliss.
Plumbert knelt and shone the beam of the lamp full on the body’s face.
“Perry Cooper.”
“Spud,” gasped Aden, recognising the boyish features.
“That’s right,” said Plumbert. “Dock worker, nicknamed Spud. One of the members of Grimus’s gang I do believe?”
Plumbert felt for a pulse, and lifted Spud’s eye-lids, shining lamp-light into them.
“Dead as kipper, all right. Looks strange to me too, can’t place how though. I think I’d better call for help.”
Plumbert pulled forth his whistle and blew, causing a shrill warble as the pea rattled inside. Distant reply whistles were heard. Plumbert blew again to so his position could be located. He turned to the friends.
“Just about to finish me shift, heard the scream and started running.”
“We were walking down the lane,” said Aden.
“Did you see who did it?”
“No.”
Plumbert patted and pulled the body, giving it a quick examination.
“Can’t tell cause of death. Any weapons on the floor?”
“Haven’t seen any.”
Plumbert sat back on his knees and sighed.
“We’ve not managed to catch any of Grimus’s gang. Not seen a sniff of them, and then this one turns up dead.”
There came a bobbing light, and a policeman ran into the glade. He looked at the body, then at the friends, and finally at Plumbert.
“What we got here then, Sarge?”
“What we got here, Private Long, I reckon, is murder.”
Two more policemen arrived and Plumbert spoke to them, explaining what had happened; he asked them to take the body to the station for examination.
“What about you, Sarge,” queried Policeman Long.
Plumbert pushed himself to his feet and brushed leaves from his trousers.
“I’m taking the friends home. Then I’m going to take a statement from them, then I’m going to leave them alone.”
“Shouldn’t they go to the station too?
Plumbert gave the policeman a cold stare.
“If they was covered in blood and this here body had a knife sticking out of it, I might just do that, Long. But these lads have had a stiff few weeks, never mind a stiff two years before that. So, I’m going to take them home, take their statement and leave it as that, for today. Do you want to argue with me on this?”
Private Long flicked a glance at the friends and shook his head.
“Fine by me, Sarge.”
Chapter 43: A Sombre Morning
Aden kept waking during the night to memories of a violent nightmare.
It’s unpleasant to watch someone die, it affects you deeply, and each time he woke from his sleep his skin felt cold and he was gasping for breath.
Then too, he would lay there wondering what Spud had said as he lay dying. Something about ‘Haverland’ and ‘he called himself... Azabar’. So who was Azabar, wondered Aden? The word sounded familiar, but understanding remained tantalisingly out of reach.
The next day arrived with Aden feeling tired from lack of sleep. Bliss likewise had dark circles around her eyes and spoke of having been 'thinking about what Plumbert said' the previous evening...
Sergeant Plumbert might have vouched for their innocence in front of Private Long; but, he had questioned the two for a long time when they had all arrived at Bliss's home, and he seemed to have had a suspicious glint in his eyes too. Perhaps that glint was there because neither Aden nor Bliss had volunteered what Spud had said as he died. By some unspoken agreement both had decided that Plumbert shouldn't be told this crucial piece of inf
ormation, just yet. - and perhaps Plumbert had sensed that.
It was only when Martha complained the children were exhausted that Plumbert had flicked his notepad shut and told them he was finished. His expression had become grave.
“You'd recently exposed the deceased, Spud and his gang, to the Police, and I don’t see how that would lead you to have having killed him too. The opposite, in fact. No bruises on yer hands or faces, either.” said Plumbert. “Which indicates your story is true, you found him after the attack.”
Todd’s mum snorted.
“Of course they did,” said Martha. “These two aren’t liars.”
“Regardless of what I think, Martha, they've been involved in a murder, and I had to ask them certain questions. That's my job. Until we learn more about Spud’s death I have to ask that neither leave the City too. For their own safety I also want them to make sure they are accompanied by an adult if they leave this house, outside of daylight hours.”
“I think they can do that easily enough,” Said Martha.
“Good, I’ve been assigned to escort the ambassador of Solant back to his country tomorrow. I won’t be back for about ten days, and I don’t want to hear these two have broken my conditions when I return. The conditions are for their own safety – both legal and physical.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if rumours say we killed him,” said Bliss, eating porridge.
Aden’s thoughts returned to the present and he sipped at his milk.
“Spud looked odd as he died, and I don’t think it was just the lamp-light. When they find the cause of death, it’s going to be poisoning, or drug overdosing. Nothing we could have done.”
Bliss paused, a spoonful of porridge halfway to her mouth.
“Some people would blame us if half a dozen dragons flew down and burnt the city, especially people with ambassador dads, long hair and pointy noses.”
Aden smiled
“Alicia would too.”
Bliss regarded him sourly.
“Joke.”
“Ha ha. Funny.”
Aden finished his milk and stood from the kitchen table.
“We’d better get moving or we’ll have Hacknor to deal with for being late.”
