mirror of
https://gitlab.silvrtree.co.uk/martind2000/booksnew.git
synced 2025-01-11 23:45:08 +00:00
407 lines
18 KiB
HTML
407 lines
18 KiB
HTML
<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
|
|
<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
|
|
"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
|
|
<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
|
|
<head>
|
|
<title>Mythlands - Chapter </title>
|
|
<link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="imperaWeb.css"/>
|
|
<link rel="stylesheet" type=
|
|
"application/vnd.adobe-page-template+xml" href=
|
|
"page-template.xpgt"/>
|
|
</head>
|
|
<body>
|
|
<div id="text">
|
|
<div class="section" id="xhtmldocuments">
|
|
<h1>2</h1>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The nightmare jolted him out of sleep and Jack woke, trembling in its aftermath while the images fragmented and faded.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He hadn't had this dream for a long time. When he was small, it sometimes came every night and he would wake wailing until Clarice came bustling in to
|
|
smother him in her warm arms while the snarling, howling sounds faded in the glow of the bedside light.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Jack shook his head, dispelling the last of it, shaken but glad he had not cried in his sleep.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Whatever had sparked the dream, maybe talking about the sounds he'd heard long ago coming from behind the Blackwood forest wall, or maybe the tussle with
|
|
Billy Robbins after school, he didn't know, but just on the point of waking, he'd felt he'd gone back somehow to when he was small and his dreams were
|
|
fresh and so scary his heart would stop dead in his chest.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
<em>It was dark and he was moving through a forest,</em>
|
|
carried<em> between the trees in strong arms, while behind, orange eyes, big as saucers, reflected moonlight and blinked ghostly in the depths.</em>
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
<em>
|
|
Pale things flitted fast, slobbering and snarling as they came and Jack could hear the ragged, exhausted breathing of whoever carried him, sense the
|
|
desperation to keep moving..
|
|
</em>
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
<em>In the dream, Jack didn't know what chased them in the dark. He had no words, no comprehension.</em>
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
<em>All he knew is that if they caught him it would be terrible. But he was so frightened that he couldn't even cry.</em>
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
<em>And the arms carried him until they came to the tall, pale shapes….</em>
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
In the aftermath, he could still see those sickly orange eyes and the thin, flitting forms between the trunks, and for the first time in his life he realized that the dream had to have come from somewhere. He couldn't have imagined something like that.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
It had to be a memory. What kind of memory, he just didn't know.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<hr />
|
|
<p>
|
|
Morning came. He was half awake, sore when he moved.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Jack bent towards the mirror, touching the bruise high on his cheek. The strange thing was, it hadn't hurt much at the time. Billy Robbins' punch had made
|
|
his head spin, but the hurt came later, when the bruise began to swell.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Jack couldn't fight. Never had any reason to until Billy Robbins, the school bully and a boastful bigot, had picked on Kerry, because he was Irish, because
|
|
he was dyslexic, and because, like Jack, he was near enough an orphan.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
On the way down to the bus-stop, Billy Robbins had started again, and Jack had stood up for Kerry and Robbins had swung at him and knocked him down. If you
|
|
couldn't pick your true friends, you couldn't pick enemies either. They picked you.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He stepped back from the mirror. His first black eye, so he supposed he could count himself lucky. Some boys would fight over nothing any day of the week
|
|
but Jack wasn't cut out to be a fighter. Just what he <em>was</em> cut out to be was anybody's guess.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Straight black hair fell over his brow and he hoped it was long enough to hide the bruise, but it wasn't and he knew Clarice wouldn't miss it. She had eyes
|
|
like a falcon and she knew him inside out. She could spot dirty fingernails at a hundred yards and unpolished shoes from a mile.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
How <em>did</em> you get that, Jack Flint? He could just hear her say. It was always the full whack, the full <em>Jack Flint</em> when she noticed
|
|
something out of line, which was half the time at least.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"You and that Kerrigan Malone!" She'd say. "Have you two been fighting?"
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
She'd bring Kerry into it right away, nothing surer.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Then she'd grab him, quick as a snake and draw his face down to hers, peer over her glasses at the damage and then she'd get that worried, concerned look.
|
|
She was tough, but she loved him even if she had a funny way of showing it sometimes.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Having somebody to love him was half the battle. That and a friend like Kerry.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He went downstairs for cornflakes, smiling at the picture he'd conjured, prepared to bet that this would be just what happened, and sooner rather than
|
|
later. You had to get up with the milkman to get one over on old Iron Britches. His smile turned into a grin, as he thought of Kerry's name for Clarice.
|
|
Those two walked wary around each other like cat and terrier, each expecting the worst, a scratch or a bite.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
It wasn't that Kerry was bad. No way. But you give a dog a bad name and it's hard to shake. Despite her wariness, Clarice had insisted in taking Kerry into
|
|
the lodge house when his father went to jail, rather than see him put into care. She knew he'd be like a caged wolf if he couldn't roam.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The Major wasn't in the library after breakfast, which was where he'd be found when he was home from wherever it was he went from time to time. Nobody knew
|
|
much about where he went, and he never offered an explanation or gave any warning. One day he'd be gone, and another day he'd be back again. It was a
|
|
mystery Jack had often wondered about but never asked.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The Major owned the big estate just west of Ardmore and he was as much a father, or grandfather as Jack had ever had.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The old man could be distant at times, spending days and nights up in the observatory in the turret of the rambling old house, but when he was home, he'd
|
|
give Jack the run of his amazing library with its treasure of books, or take him hiking the crest of Brander Ridge, telling him tales of the old days.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Jack climbed the wide stairway, then the narrow steps to the turret which had a vantage over the whole peninsula.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The brass telescope stood at the north window today, beside a gleaming sextant and other instruments Jack had never quite figured out. The walls between
|
|
the windows were covered with star charts and ancient weapons, and the desk was piled high with books that breathed the dry and dusty smell of age.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He peered through the scope and Cromwath Blackwood jumped into focus. Dark branches clawed over the high wall, tangled, strangled with ivy thick as ropes.
|
|
Even with the telescope, he could see nothing inside the dense weave of twigs and thorns.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
It was dark in there. It was always dark in there.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Jack turned the telescope to point east over the bay, hoping the Major wouldn't notice. He'd have to warn Kerry they'd need to scale the wall on the far
|
|
side, just in case the Major was up in the turret tomorrow.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He jammed his hands in his jeans and turned to one of the charts on the wall. It was ragged, stained at the edges, and it looked so old it might crumble to
|
|
dust. The lettering on it, if it <em>was</em> lettering, was in a language Jack couldn't read. He turned, and that's when the bronze casket on the far side
|
|
of the desk caught his eye.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
It sat squat, glowing with smooth patina, carved with imps or pixies or demons; solid, heavy, dark with great age. He had never seen it before.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
An inexplicable buzz ran through him, like a surge of electricity.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He felt his heart beating, an odd double-pulse, that seemed to be coming from inside and outside his chest. He couldn't say why, but the casket demanded
|
|
his full attention.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Very tentatively, he reached his right hand out towards it, felt the silken smoothness of the metal, the undulations of the carving. His fingers splayed on
|
|
the top, as if they knew what they were searching for.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
There was an odd little <em>snick.</em>
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Jack almost stepped back, but the compulsion kept his fingers pressed to the surface. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. A tiny whirr sound
|
|
came, almost inaudible. His fingers peeled from the lid. He stood there in silence, waiting.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The lid <em>moved</em>.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
A dark gap showed, and then slowly the top swung up on its own making the carvings shimmer and dance.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He held his breath, heart still making that double-thump.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The lid raised itself. He moved closer, peered into it and saw the heart, a black stone heart, small enough to hold in your hand, polished smooth as glass.
|
|
It seemed to pulse and contract with a life all its own.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Unbidden, his hand reached for it.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
And without warning a grey shape loomed at him from the side.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
A big hand snaked towards his face as he turned, expecting a heavy blow, but instead it flashed past him and snapped the lid shut just as Jack was about to
|
|
lift the heart stone from its setting
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Curiosity, Jack lad." The Major's eyes crinkled. "It'll get you into trouble one of these days, that's for sure."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"It was <em>alive.</em>" was all Jack could say.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Trick of the light, young feller.."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Jack looked at him. He was sure he had seen the heart pulse, in and out, like a living thing. The Major met his gaze and brushed his hand over his short
|
|
silver hair that matched his close-cropped beard. It was hard to tell how old he was, but he hadn't changed at all for as long as Jack had known him.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have opened it."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"I'm surprised you could." The major said. "A few have tried."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The image of a black stone that <em>pulsed</em> stayed right up at the front of his mind. He'd never seen anything like it before.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He felt it had <em>called</em> to him.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"What is it?" He wanted another look at it. He wanted to hold it in his hand, and he couldn't say why.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Just an old trinket," the Major said. "Given to me a long time ago.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He drew himself up, towering over Jack, then eased onto the desk beside the telescope. He ruffled Jack's hair, letting him know he wasn't really put out,
|
|
then turned the boy's face to one side, bent forward to inspect the bruise around his eye.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"That's some shiner you have there. I hope you've a good story for Clarice. You want to try it on me?"
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"It was just a scrap," Jack said. "I said something and Billy Robbins shoved me around a bit. He was having a go at Kerry"
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The Major held Jack's chin in one hand, inspecting the bruise.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"So you took a black eye?"
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Kerry's a friend, and he won't fight. I had to stand up for him. He would do it for me if he could."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Good lad." The Major looked at him with a smile, but there was a sadness in it too. "Just like your father."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
As soon as he'd said it, he closed his mouth in a tight line, and Jack could see he wished he hadn't spoken.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Let's you and me hike up the ridge and see the lie of the land."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The crags at the west point of Brander Ridge dropped abruptly to the sea. Beyond them the ocean stretched, grey as lead under piling clouds. Southwards,
|
|
Ardmore harbour huddled in the bay, and down the slope the slate roof of the Major's rambling stone house could just be seen through the pines. All along
|
|
the crest of the ridge, a line of standing stones hunched like weary sentinels, as far as Cromwath Blackwood in the distance.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Jack was all questions, but with the Major, you couldn't push far. He just came and went and sometimes walked with Jack on the ridge where he would sit,
|
|
often silent, for an hour or so, watching the sea, then swinging round to gaze a long time at Cromwath Blackwood.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"I wish I knew more about my father," Jack finally said.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"I know. I can tell you this. He was the best man to have at your back, and an even better one to have at your side. Best friend I ever had, bravest man I
|
|
ever knew."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"I can't remember him at all. What really happened to him?"
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The Major bent forward and placed his hands on Jack's shoulders.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"I can't rightly say, and that's the honest truth. I know he went on a…a mission and he never came back. Where he went, I don't really know. You were
|
|
just a baby when you were brought here. All I can say for now is your father was a good man with a good heart." He touched Jack's chest with a finger,
|
|
right in the centre. "Just like his son."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Can you tell me about him?"
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"I can, and I will," the Major said softly. "But you've got a year or so to put on you, and a bit of his height as well. Maybe scrape a razor once or twice
|
|
over your chin."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He smiled. "Then you and me, we'll go walking up here again, and I'll tell you all you want to know. And what you <em>need</em> to know. And there are
|
|
things you do need to know."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"But…."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"No buts Jack. Curb your curiosity and feed your patience. I know it's not easy, but nothing important ever is. All in good time."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Jack's shoulders slumped. He sizzled with the need to know more; more about Major MacBeth, more about the strange stone heart that had tugged at him like a
|
|
tide. Most of all, he needed to know about his father, who and what kind of man he was. Because he needed to know about <em>himself</em>.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"All in good time, Jack. And that's what you should be having while you're young and quick. A good time. It's Friday. What's your plan?"
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Reluctantly Jack allowed himself to be drawn into the change of subject. The Major was like a clam when he chose, and already it was clear he'd said more
|
|
than he'd intended.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"We've got the Halloween party tonight. Tomorrow, Kerry and me are going to explore Brander Water, see if we can find the source. And then we'll fish the
|
|
tarn."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
It wasn't a complete lie, because after exploring the walled coppice, they did plan to go fishing, but even then Jack felt guilty about not telling the
|
|
whole truth.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The Major fixed him with a look and Jack felt his face flush. It was as if he could read his mind. "Well, take care you don't get lost up there. It's wild
|
|
old country."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Jack forced a smile. "I never get lost. I always know the way back."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The Major looked as if he was going to say something else, but seemed to think better of it.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Just make sure Kerry leaves me a fish or two. He's a devil of a poacher."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Jack laughed. "Just a couple for the pan." Kerry could catch anything that moved.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"And take my midge spray. It's late in the season, but they'll still eat you alive."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The Major winced as he hauled slowly to his feet.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"What's wrong?" Jack asked.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"A twinge is all." The Major leaned heavily on the gnarled stick, carved with two snakes that merged into one ferocious head burnished to a shine with
|
|
years of handling.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Winter's coming. It's the equinox tomorrow. We're crossing over to the dark nights." And you've the Samhain party?"
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Yeah. A week early, as usual."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Always been that way, ever since those stones have stood on the ridge. Halloween's still new-fangled around here. You've read your books, so you know why.
|
|
Samhain is a night to watch. The old folk knew a thing or two. Full moon tonight, Jack. Keep a weather eye out."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Jack stopped. "For what?"
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Full moon and Samhain. A powerful conjunction. Just take care where you step, and don't be late back. It's not a night to be about."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"I don't believe in ghosts."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Oh, there's worse than ghosts, believe me."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The Major allowed a smile to crease his face. "You've used the telescope. All those stars. A clever man said the universe is much stranger than we <em>can</em> imagine. Remember the stories you've read. You always had your nose in them."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Sure, but they're just legends."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"There's a kernel of truth in all the legends. That's why they were passed down. Why they've lasted so long."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He changed his stance, cuffed Jack a light one on the back of his head. "So what are you happy lads going as?"
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"I'm Cuchullain." He pronounced it Co-hoolin, the way the Major had told him when he was small. The great Celtic warrior hero had always been Jack's
|
|
favourite. "And Kerry's David. You know, the giant killer. He wanted to go as Samson, but his hair's too short."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"A warped warrior and a giant killer," the Major said. "Two good men and true. Come by before you go and I'll lend you something to make you look the
|
|
part."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He paused, as if trying to think his way inside Jack's head. "But still, mind what I said now, and get home before full dark. And another thing, you take
|
|
care up at the tarn, and remember….."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"I remember," Jack said, knowing what was coming. "Stay away from Cromwath Blackwood."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Got it in one, son. No place for anybody."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
But the mystery of the walled Blackwood tugged on Jack like a fishhook.<em> </em>Always had, always would, until he found out for himself.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Have you ever been in there?"
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The Major gave him a searching look. "Like I say, Jack. It's no place for anybody. What's in there is old. Old and dangerous."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He had such a stern look that Jack felt as if he'd been peeled open, but then the Major touched him on the shoulder.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Some things were always meant to stay hidden."
|
|
</p>
|
|
</div>
|
|
</div>
|
|
</body>
|
|
</html>
|