Outside the wind had picked up, tossing the snow around in a maddening white frenzy. Some of the flakes were now venturing into the inner sanctum of the last Gobelinus. Just as Poppy was about to give up and continue on with her quest she began to hear the squeaking and grating as branches rubbed against each other.
At first she thought it merely the blizzard or the weight of the snow on the canopy, but then she heard the distant neighing of a horse. It sounded like it was coming from behind several densely packed trees so Poppy shone her torch on them. To her astonishment the tangled mess of branches seemed to be untangling themselves as if by magic.
The neighing of the horse grew louder and then they heard hoofs pounding on the pine needle track as it charged closer and closer. In the blink of an eye both Midnight and Slurpe had taken up positions in front of Poppy.
“Wait!” Poppy shouted nervously. “Whatever is coming is very, very scared of us!”
“It should be!” Slurpe uttered without taking his eyes from the fearful darkness. “I’m going to kick its backside all over these woods!”
Soon the galloping noise of a horse in full charge was upon then. Midnights senses told him that this creature stank of decay and rotten flesh but was nethertheless real and therefore something he could deal with.
Flashing out of the still darkness like a bolt of lightning the horse skidded to a halt and reared up in terror at the sight of Midnights drooling teeth. The rider dropped his sword, which cluttered to the ground, and then he fell off backwards and landed on a dead blackberry bush.
The Horse was dressed in the full battle armour of the Sixth Gobelinus cavalry, but beneath that it was nothing more than a skeleton. The polished bone bore not a stitch of flesh or skin and the only hair it possessed was that of a flowing tail.
Slurpe had already dashed forward and kicked away the sword, which he noticed was old and rusty. The creature stirred and began to pick himself up.
“Go on then!” The Goblin cried out, he was clearly in pain from his tumble and wasn’t in a mood for silly games. “Go on then get it over and done with... It’s what you want isn’t it..? Kill me, because I would kill you if I could!”
“We don’t want to harm you!” Poppy said.
“I do!” Slurpe growled. “He’s Gobelinus..! He’s meant to be dead.”
Poppy flashed a look of disgust at her Goyle friend and then looked at the Goblin which was actually shorter than she was. Dressed in a long brown hooded cape he stooped against a short staff and limped out of the bush he’d landed in.
Poppy already knew his name from reading his mind but thought it polite to ask. “What’s your name?”
“What’s my name?” He asked and rubbed his chin which was hidden beneath the oversized hood. “What’s my name she asks..? I ask what use is a name to one who is alone.”
“You are Brambles Tyke the last of the Gobelinus!”
The Goblin began to giggle. “Ark at her, aint she the clever clogs... So you guessed my name! Woopy doo! That doesn’t make me Rumple Stiltskin and it certainly doesn’t make you a Princess ... Who’s to say that I’m the last?” He giggled again and eyed the nearby trees. “How do you know you’re not surrounded?”
“But you just told me that you’re alone in the world..! We just want to pass through your woods and be on our way.”
The Goblins horse had calmed down by now and was meandering by the only greenery in the area, some moss on the exposed root of an old pine. He had found a single clump of grass and was failing miserably to eat it.
“Here Shergar! Leave that grass alone and get over here.” Brambles Shouted and shook his staff at the horse. “Race horse? More like my backside!”
Poppy noticed his hands were pale blue, maybe that was from the cold, they were also long and bony with brown pock mark warts all over them. She sensed he was in great pain from arthritis and had lost the feeling in one leg. “You are very old and in great pain..! Will you let us pass and no one need get hurt.”
The Goblin seemed to think for some seconds and then. “Well these are my woods so you’ll have to give me something... Have you got any food or boiled sweets? I like boiled sweets!”
Slurpe suddenly piped up. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not going to let me take his head off?”
Poppy ignored him as she reached inside the side pouch on her rucksack. “I’m afraid I’ve only got this gum!”
The Goblin held out his hand and beckoned to her impatiently. “Well give it here then and let me taste the merchandise.”
He snatched the gum out of her hands and popped it in his mouth without even taking the wrapper off. Poppy could see that it was a great effort for him to chew, as he had few teeth left in his head and those remaining were rotten stumps.
“Dunno, it’s a bit chewy isn’t it!” He said without revealing his face, he sounded disappointed. “And it’s minty, I don’t like mint!”
Jesses’ fear of the Gobelinus had evaporated somewhat, the creature wasn’t quite as fierce as he had expected, and he was feeling a little braver now. “That’s why they call it chewing gum..! Durr..!”
The hood jerked towards Jesse and then back to the floor, all the time taking great care to hide his face. “What about him? Is he for trade...?”
Poppy looked on in exasperation, she couldn’t believe the cheek of the little goblin. “No.” She snapped. “He’s my friend and I don’t sell my friends.”
“That soul of his could turn a nice gold penny... What else you got then?”
Slurpe was growing more and more impatient with every dirty, disgusting word that came out of the rancid abomination standing before him. “Why don’t you take that bag of bones horse of yours and crawl back from where you came. We’re going to pass through these woods whether you like it or not. The only question remaining is whether you will be alive when we do...? Or not? ”
The whites of the Goblins eyes flashed angrily in the darkness of the hood and for the briefest of moments his face was visible. It was a face only a doting mother could love, a face etched with hundreds of years’ worth of hatred and loathing. The mind was screaming kill, kill, kill but the body was weak and feeble, unable to carry out the base instinct of the treacherous Gobelinus.
Poppy suddenly realised Slurpe was no longer the little child Goyle she had played ball with just weeks before. He was indeed a warrior Goyle, with his killer instincts and the willingness to fight and die for the things which he believed in. Preventing him from killing the Gobelinus would be difficult, perhaps impossible.
“Put your sword away Slurpe, we need to get going!” She said firmly but the Goyle hesitated. “Slurpe!”
This time Midnight growled and took a step towards Slurpe as if to back up Poppy’s order. He needed no more convincing and slowly sheaved his sword without taking his eyes from the Goblin.
“Mark my words Gobelinus Bramble Tyke, when this is all over I shall return...!”
“Wait!” The Goblin cried just as the party began to move off. “Poppy Darke...” He began giggling again. “See...! See I can guess names too little girl. Poppy Darke be warned you are being watched from the darkness. The eyes of the night are on you...” His laughter grew and filled the night air, and like a tickled child could not stop. “You know not what you are..! And for that you are in grave peril...”
Poppy wondered what he meant, and shot the deranged little creature a worried glance. “Come on lets get going, it’s getting late now. No more holdups.”
“The night fears you Poppy Darke, it fears you like no other...” The Goblin ranted in between fits of maddening laughter.
Even after walking for a full fifteen minutes the little troop could still hear chilling laughter coming from Howling woods. “I could always go back and shut him up!” Slurpe whined, still sulking and angry with Poppy for not letting him kill the Gobelinus.
Poppy gave him that look and shook her head. “Slurpe, that old goblin is dying! Where would the honour be in killing him?”
>
No discernable answer returned for Slurpe had spotted lights in the distance and jogged forward to join Midnight.
Crouching by a rusty, broken down wrought iron fence poppy and Jesse at last saw their destination looming ominously across the far side of a frozen lake. Midnight tasted the night air and scented evil, Slurpe just wanted a fight.
CHAPTER 28
Skirting around the edge of the lake and being careful to stay close to the comforting cover of the tree line, the group made their way ever nearer to the dilapidated manor house. Jesse seemed to know where he was going so everyone else just got in line and followed.
The blizzard had gradually eased and now the snow fell in short flurries, some of the heavier clouds had dispersed or moved off and the odd star could be seen twinkling through the gaps in the heavens.
Jesse waved them on and pointed, as a warning, to the only window in the entire house which had light radiating through its cracked and dirty glass. He put his finger across his lips telling everyone to be extra quiet and then moved off again.
Deep virgin snow covered everything, but somehow Poppy knew she was standing on sacred ground. The feeling sent tingling spasms up her spine, made the hair on her neck stand up and gave her goose bumps. Suddenly Jesse came to a halt and began looking around as if he had lost something in the snow.
“What are you doing?” Poppy asked. “What are you looking for?”
He shushed and beckoned Slurpe over to clear a little snow from an object on the ground, which he did with a single powerful beat of his wings, creating a cloud of dusty snow which temporarily hid the group from prying eyes.
As the snow settled and Poppys vision returned once more she noticed what Jesse had been so eager for her to see. Sitting on the ground was a single marble block with an inscription upon its face, that inscription read ‘De’athly Crypt’.
“We’re here!” Jesse announced proudly. “Inside that tomb is a tunnel that leads all the way into the cellar!”
“How do you know all this anyway...?” Poppy asked.
“I saw Skuttlebucket take your brother so I followed him here. As soon as I saw the house all my memories came flooding back.”
Poppy closed her eyes in disgust at her own stupidity. “You were in the cauldron? Weren’t you? Skuttlebucket took you from your bed...! And that Witch cast you into her cauldron?”
Jesse nodded eagerly. “But I escaped through a tiny crack that I found... They chased me and I escaped through the tunnel... And that’s how I know it’s here!”
Slurpe had little difficulty ripping the heavy stone lid from the tomb, his phenomenal strength made the removal look easy, and then he placed it gently down on the snow and grinned.
“Right!” Jesse said. “You lot wait here and I’ll go and see if the coast is clear!” He was enjoying being in charge, even if it was only because of his familiarity of the lay out.
“You’re not leaving me here?” Poppy snapped sharply. “...That’s my brother in there!”
“But I can get in without being seen...!”
“No way..! I’m coming with you!”
Jesse faded slightly, becoming transparent, walked through the marble wall of the tomb and then popped his head back out. “Can you do that?”
Poppy pursed her lips and blew her cheeks out in frustration, but ignored the question.
“Thought so!” Jesse said. “Wait here..! I’ll go see where the baby is and I’ll be back in a minute!”
Darkness is no barrier to a ghost, infact it’s often where they feel safest. Ghosts are neither sighted nor blind as they have no real eyes to see with and no brain to make sense of what they are seeing.
They can appear as something seen fleetingly in the corner of your eye or sensed like a draught or chill on the neck. The creeks of a floorboard or bump in the night are often the only sign of a visit.
There is no shape or form; no substance or feeling and light and dark have little meaning- They exist in a no man’s land, caught somewhere between this world and the next A sad, desperate memory of a life extinguished.
The tunnel was nothing more than a narrow slit hewn out of the limestone rock. The path looked worn and Jesse wondered just how recently it had been used. There were cobwebs everywhere and water dripping out of the ceiling. Near the edges the drips gathered in trickles and became mini waterfalls as they cascaded their way down the rocky walls.
Other than a couple of rats busy squeaking at each other Jesse was completely alone. They paid him little attention as he passed by and climbed down several stone steps. Here the walls and ground were much sandier and the way ahead seemed to be heading back up towards ground level.
Agyness De’athly anxiously paced up and down in the main banquet hall, it was the only room which hadn’t fallen into wreck and ruin over the years. The wooden floor was well worn with little trace of the thick glossy varnish that once covered its surface, and the rug on which a long dining table sat was very nearly threadbare, but most of the chairs were in one piece. On top of the stripy Victorian wallpaper hung oil paintings of long since deceased men and women, all of whom seemed to be staring down their noses in disdain at the present occupier. She was angry, but at the same time trying to be as quiet as she could, if that baby began crying one more time she would have to feed it to the cat, head first.
“Where are you Skuttlebucket?” She growled irritably. “I need you here..!” Fear was etched across her face and showed in her wavering voice. It would soon be time for the cauldron to perform its magic one last time and Agyness knew in her old heart that she could not hope to fend off an attack in her present state.
Baby Nathaniel stirred in the cardboard box in which he slept. It was way passed his feed time, infact it was way passed many feed times. He was cold and wanted someone to pick him up, to cuddle him and make him feel safe once more. His stomach was empty and his nappy full, but what he craved most of all was the comforting feeling of a dummy in his mouth... He really, really wanted that dummy.
As his top lip began to quiver and tremble tears began to well in his eyes. Taking a breath his tiny little lungs exploded forth with a cataclysmic racket of such biblical magnitude that Agyness shrieked in agony and covered her ears.
“Shut up...!” She screamed weakly, her voice drowned out by the racket. “... Shut up..! Why can’t you be quiet?”
Skuttlebucket didn’t have much experience with babies but figured they were more or less the same whether they be human or Goyle. He’d heard the baby cry from his perch high up in the attic and quite frankly couldn’t stand one more second of it, the gut churning cries were straight from the pits of hell and cut right through him.
Silence descended over the house like an invisible blanket. Agyness uncovered her ears and stared at the Goyle incredulously.
“What..? What did you do?” She barked.
“He dropped his dummy... My Lady! I found it on the stairs and stuck it back in his gob... But he’s wet and very probably hungry so it won’t shut him up for long!” The stench of a rotting carcass is like perfume to a Goyle but this human baby reeked of something much, much worse. Skuttlebucket pinched his nostrils tight shut and ran to the window throwing it open, gasping in huge mouthfuls of air.
“You mean..? You... You’re saying..?” Agyness stuttered as her face screwed up in anguish. “I’ve got to change his stinking nappy?”
Skuttlebucket grinned from ear to ear (Although as I’ve mentioned previously, with a face like his it was very hard to tell). He had waited four hundred years for this one moment and wasn’t going to miss it for the world.
It wasn’t so much an exit as the back of a large painting. Jesse could see the opening mechanism but opted for the ghostly approach instead and just walked right through the canvas. Somehow the tunnel had come out half way up the staircase on a small landing where the steps forked left and right. Glancing back over his shoulder the little ghost jumped with fright, gasping with new found memories. For the oil painting he had
just walked through was of none other than Lady Agyness De’athly herself.
She was right there in front of him sat astride a white charger, sword in hand, bearing down on a mob of torch and pitchfork wielding villagers. Jesse was transfixed with terror, he almost expected her to come to life and burst out of the image before him.
The ear splitting screams of an infant brought him quickly to his senses and then he heard more noises as someone approached from above. Jesse quickly dashed back behind the painting and watched through a tiny hole as none other than Gargle Skuttlebucket himself went scurrying down stairs. He was muttering to himself all the way but Jesse couldn’t make out a word of it.
Seconds later the baby stopped his relentless crying and Jesse dared to come out of his hiding place. He strained to hear voices which seemed to be coming from the ground floor and figured as long as Skuttlebucket was talking to the Witch then he wouldn’t head back upstairs. He gingerly made his way down the sprawling staircase, ran across the hallway and crouched down between the door frame and a small table made of marble.
Stuffing tissue paper up her nostrils seemed to do the trick. “Babies..! Nappies..! Poo...! There’s nothing to it!” Agyness declared as she fastened Nathaniel’s blue romper suit. “I’m a natural...!”
Skuttlebucket sighed wearily, she really was going mad. “A natural what?” He asked. “That baby is wearing a nappy made out of tatty old newspapers.”
Agyness ignored his sarcasm as was usually the case, but then she placed a finger on her lips telling him to be very quiet. “I fear we have a little mouse in the house!” She whispered as quietly as she could. She had sensed the fleeting presence of a spirit with some alarm and then realised it was just a small boy.
The old Goyles eyes lit up at the thought, afterall he was famished and a little mouse would go down well. Drooling uncontrollably he licked his lips and began scanning the room for the pesky but tasty intruder.
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