Blind Man's Buff

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  The old blind man lay on his back on the snowy bank, heaving and spitting out great gushes of filth and water. He was also alive. Somehow – since he surely should have been dead. And there, standing peering down at them, his clothes streaming water, was Brewster Hazlett.

  Everybody stared at everybody else. Nathan, on his knees, gazed up at Brewster in utter bewilderment.

  “Didn’t expect your little friend to save your life, eh, Bumble-Bee-Head?” Brewster was stamping and hopping, trying to shed some of the water which dripped and streamed from his head and clothes. The snow beneath his feet squelched into a boggy sludge, and the sprigs of frozen grass showed through, but Brewster’s little gold shoes looked sadly ruined. Nathan, too cold and too desperately gasping for air, could not answer properly, So Brewster clicked his heels, pulled his cap out of a soggy pocket and clamped it back on his head, saying, “When the Natty-batty-ratty-tatty saved this twinny’s life, twinny-win-winny did a nice favour in return.” He cackled, dripping river water. “Well, now that same twinny-win-winny has saved little Bumble-Bee-Head’s life. And so can expect a nice big favour in return.”

  “I will,” said Nathan at once although still gasping for breath. “But you tried to kill old man Octobr before, so why did you save him as well?”

  “That would be telling,” cackled Brewster. “Can’t tell, can I? Not all them Hazlett secrets, oh no, no, no.”

  “All that funny Father Christmas stuff.”

  “Fun and wopsy-topsy,” sniggered Brewster. “Gifts for all the family, what, what? Christmas spirit without the spirit.”

  “I never know what you’re talking about,” sighed Nathan. “But I’ll remember that I owe you a favour.” He paused a moment, then added, “And I suppose I ought to ask if you want to come back to the house to dry off in front of the fire?” Though secretly he thought everyone else would be horrified. And it wasn’t his house, after all.

  But Brewster said, “Much too civilised, Natty-Watty. No, tis the magic will do it better every time. You flit away to your little friends, and take old blind-man’s buff with you. And remember the favour.”

  “Well, I hope William Octobr can use his magic to dry us both too,” mumbled Nathan.

  “Old man Will won’t,’ Brewster chuckled. “I took his magic staff away. Not much magic left now, not at all.”

  At precisely that moment a large puff of sparkling pink and silver smoke emerged from under both his arms, and Brewster began to hop and leap around again. His clothes visibly dried, and stopped dripping. His shoes sparkled, his cap cheered up and curled its brim, and his bright green eyes blinked in a big smile. Nathan wished he could dry off and warm up that quickly, but he waved, saying, “I promise to remember the favour,” as with another blink, Brewster started to sing.

  “Humpty Dumpty sat on a snake. Humpty Dumpty fell in the lake. All the king’s llamas and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again. Then along comes a knight, all covered in white, saves Humpty from his plight all thanks to his might. So the dumpy dumpling owes a favour too. That’s a double favour, isn’t it, my pet?” And with another two puffs of smoky steam, he disappeared up into the clouds like a rocket launch.

  There were few people around but those who were hurrying along Thames Road and the Bridge were busy huddling under their cloaks and half running to keep warm. No one seemed to have seen anything of the strange things that had happened, and no one came over to help the old man lying in the snow. So Nathan pulled out his knife, held it up and asked for help. It caught the sheen of the ice and snow, shining white everywhere, as Nathan whispered, “Help William Octobr feel better. He has to walk back to Bishopsgate.” And almost immediately the old smith spluttered, coughed and sat up, wiping snow and water from his sleeves and face.

  “What happened?” he croaked.

  “We need to get home first,” Nathan told him. “But it’s me, Nat Bannister, if you remember me. I’ll explain everything once we’re home by the fire with hot cider and dry clothes.”

  “Who was it?” demanded the old man, shaking water from his hair like a puppy, “who tried to drown me?”

  “Wagster and Braxton,” Nathan glowered, “But it was me and Brewster who saved you. And Brewster wants a favour in return.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The great Parry House was alight with candles, torches and fires in every grate. The steward bustled in with hot food and hot drinks, and everyone ran up and down stairs rummaging out clothes suitable for the old blind man, the last true Emperor Octobr before the usurping Hazletts invaded.

  He rested in a largest chair, bare feet stretched to the fire and so blocking the heat from everyone else and breathing heavily with a slight snore.

  The explanations had been given, the story told, and the puzzle of Brewster and his motives had been thoroughly discussed.

  Alice and Alfie had returned already from the palace, and were pleased with the result of their interview with the king.

  “He looked down his nose at me,” giggled Alice, “and said if that fool of a baron had wandered off somewhere, then it was his own fault if the wedding arrangements fell through.” But then she sighed, and stared into her lap. “But he also turned a little bit nasty, and warned me that if I was lying, and the baron turned up soon, then I would be in serious trouble.”

  “Well, he’s not going to turn up,” said Poppy, clapping her hands together. “He’s stuck in the future and that’s where he’ll stay.”

  “Unless the Hazletts or Braxton or some horrid time-travelling dragon wants to make trouble and brings them back,” said Alice gloomily.

  “No one except us knows where they are,” Poppy pointed out.

  They were all relaxing after telling their individual stories, when John came hurrying home with snow on his hat and shoulders and nose, and his feet frozen. He rushed in, threw off his wet cape, flung himself down on the floor in front of the fire, pulled off his boots, wriggled his toes in the warmth, and then noticed there were other toes right next to his own. He looked up.

  “Not ten toes this time, reckon tis twenty,” he grinned.

  So they all had to tell their stories all over again.

  Grandpa William Octobr told his own tale this time.

  “I was in Lashtang,” he said, sounding very sorry for himself and wiping his eyes. “My good and loving son and my beautiful granddaughter are both locked away somewhere. But I’ve no idea where. I’ve search all of Peganda and half of Lashtang without finding them. If I don’t obey the Hazlett orders, I believe they will be killed. There’s some vile monster from Sparkan watching over me at all times.”

  “You nearly got me killed,” said Nathan. “Giving me over to Braxton on purpose, knowing he wanted me dead. In return, I could have let you drown.”

  The old man nodded sadly. “I would not have blamed you. Just as you cannot blame me, young man. I simply care more for my son and his daughter than for anyone else. It is perfectly natural.”

  “I just didn’t really think when I saw Wagster and Braxton throw you out into the river,” Nathan said. “And I hate both of them. I felt sorry for you.”

  “Tell us about the monster,’ Poppy interrupted. “Nat told us it was a wolf with three heads. Now that’s pretty weird. But it’s a little girl too. So what is it?”

  “Ah, the monster,” said the blind man. “You must remember that I see little or nothing now, and have never seen the monster clearly. They call it Tansle, which is disgraceful, for this is my noble granddaughter’s name.”

  “I’m sorry about your granddaughter,” said Poppy, “but I want to know about the monster.”

  “It’s a Sparkan Lava wolf,” William replied with a shiver. “They live in the caves within the volcano. A rare breed, I gather, which is just as well, and no doubt they should all be eliminated as soon as possible. I would have arranged it while I was emperor, had I known about them. I never saw one before this creature was brought to watch me. The child is silent and small. I
see only a dark shadow. But the wolf is large and its three heads stretch out when they smell meat. A vile thing.”

  “Sounds ruddy weird to me,” muttered Alfie.

  “Sounds horrible.”

  “Monsters usually are.”

  “But if Brewster wanted to kill you both, and then he saved you both, then he’s as weird as any monster,” complained Poppy. “Can’t he make up his mind?”

  “He wants two big favours, but he hasn’t told me what they are yet,” sighed Nathan. “It must be something huge. I mean, with his magic he can do almost everything himself anyway, so what does he want from us?”

  “I expect he will tell you soon,” said William. “But it was Wagster who tipped me out into this time and place, and I shall do no favours for that villain’s twin brother. You may fulfil the bargain if you wish, but I made no such agreement. I intend getting back to Lashtang, to look for my family.”

  Nathan pulled a grimace. “I’m not doing two favours,” he said. “Besides, I suppose I could say you owe me a favour too. I wasn’t the one who pulled you out in the end, but it was me who tried, and I kept you alive.”

  Instead of looking grateful, the old man looked cross. “May I remind you, he said, frowning, “that I have already done you the greatest favour of your life, young man. You are Lord of Clarr and hold the magical Knife of Clarr, thanks to me.”

  “True,” muttered Nathan. “But I found the knife in your burned out smithy. You didn’t actually give it to me. And my Granny said it would have burned my hand if I wasn’t meant to hold it.”

  Into the following pause, both Nathan and the old man looked a little uncomfortable. It was John who broke the cross atmosphere, suddenly standing up, and shaking his head. “Reckon I’ll not be coming back to Lashtang yet a while. Me Pa has his ship all ready fer them Spanish Islands. Just think o’ them beautiful places. Tropical heat, it is, like them Spice Islands. I’s gonna sail wiv him this year.”

  “Not like Sparkan, then,” said Poppy. “No volcanoes and no monsters with three heads.”

  John sniggered. “Don’t reckon so. Just palm trees and spices like saffron.”

  Nathan was rather disappointed, and knew he would miss John if they all went back to Lashtang without him, but he said, “Lucky you. That’ll be brilliant.”

  “And you,” said Poppy to William Octobr, “could set up shop again and be a smith.”

  The ex-emperor regarded her with a grunt. “A hobby,” he said. “Merely a hobby and a way to keep warm in the miserable English weather. But being an emperor and ruling an entire country is somewhat more important than fiddling over a furnace.”

  This rather annoyed Nathan. “You surrendered to the Hazletts,” he objected. “It was you who lost the Octobr crown. And anyway, that was five hundred years ago.”

  “I intend returning to Lashtang,” said the old man, looking down his nose, “saving my family and claiming back some of my property. Then I should be able to retire. My son and granddaughter have no intention of claiming back their titles, but we have every right to expect a comfortable life.”

  “Well, you could go back to the past to when Lester Hazlett took over,” said Alice, lifting her chin. “which I presume is when you had that property.”

  William looked even more annoyed. “I am free,” he said, “with the power to go where I wish, young lady. I shall kill the monster and rescue my beloved family.”

  “As long as the present rulers don’t throw you in the river again.”

  This clearly offended William. “I believe,” said the old man, “it is time I retired to the bedchamber you offered, and rested. Please call me when dinner is ready.”

  Alice summoned the steward to show him to his bed, and muttered, “Good riddance,” but once he was gone, she turned to Nathan. “You should have let the old fool drown.”

  Leaning back against the window as he curled on the window seat, Nathan stared at the falling snow, saying, “I feel sorry for him. He feels a failure in everything. He was an emperor, but he lost his throne. Then he was a poor smith who never made much, and then lost his shop and his business and even lost his eyesight. Then back in Lashtang, he had to work for the enemy and his family got kidnapped so he lost them too. Not a very nice life.”

  “Not a very nice life he was going to give you either,” said Poppy, “You were supposed to be killed by that wolf thing. And all that old man’s fault.”

  “No. Hazlett’s and Braxton’s fault.”

  “Reckon,” said Alfie, “tis time to find out what them horrible twins is up to. A favour, eh? Well, could be sommint proper nasty.”

  “We’ve only just got here,” said Alice. “I don’t want to leave yet.”

  “Nor does I.”

  None of them did. But they were most unsure of what to do about William Octobr. With sighs, slurps from their cups of lukewarm apple ale, and some stretching and deep breaths, everyone wondered what to do next. Sam, curled with Flop was the only one feeling settled, but even Flop was trying to run off.

  Peter had put his lute safely away, but now, smiling at Nathan, he got it out again. “I made up a tune called Green sleeves,” he said, playing it softly. “Queen Anne Boleyn really loved it and asked for me to play it all the time. But now Poppy says it still gets played in modern England. That’s most flattering after five hundred years. But she says people think King Henry wrote it. That’s not fair. It was me.”

  “Congratulations,” said Nathan, “it’s a really pretty tune. And they’re not sure if the king wrote it. Besides, I expect he took credit for everything.”

  Then suddenly Poppy sat up straight and said loudly, “I have an idea.”

  Nathan smiled. “Oh yes, I suppose it’s something about cake for dinner.”

  Poppy poked her tongue out at him. “No. I’m serious,” she said. “We need Younger Willow, and maybe a few more of the Epilogs too.”

  They all looked at her. “To frighten old man William by being invisible and then jumping out and yelling at him?”

  “Silly,” Poppy objected. “No. To spy on the Hazletts, and on Braxton too, and on that horrible wolf thing. Mum taught us how to spy last year, and I quite enjoyed it. But just imagine with the Epilogs being invisible! And I shall go back to the forest to find them.”

  “Alone?” Nathan was shocked. “It’s a really good idea but you can’t go alone.”

  “I’ll go back with the old man, if he lets me, and I’ll do a bit of spying myself to find out about this whole business, and then go off to the forest.”

  “You mustn’t go all by yourself,” agreed Peter. “I’ll come with you.”

  “You can’t do anything I can’t do,” objected Poppy.

  “But we can watch out for each other’s backs.”

  Nathan sighed. “I suppose I should come too.”

  “I don’t want you. Go to Spain with John.”

  “I can go where I like,” Nathan growled. “It’s not for you to say.”

  “And you can’t tell me where I can go either.”

  They were glaring at each other when Samson the steward, appeared in the doorway and cleared his throat. “Dinner is about to be served, my lady,” he addressed Alice. “I shall send in one of the boys to set the table.” He waited a moment, then asked, “Shall I inform the elderly gentleman who has retired to his bed, my lady?”

  “If you must,” said Alice, looked at everyone’s angry faces, and suddenly burst out laughing.

  Chapter Twelve

  There was no ladder, no balloon, no lift, and not even a talking goose. William Octobr stood in the centre of the great hall, and stared direct east.

  Much to the old man’s annoyance, Poppy was standing very close to him on one side, and Peter, clutching his lute, stood on the other. All three wore Lashtang finery, since the blind man’s clothes had dried off, and Poppy and Peter had pulled their choices out from the bottom of their clothes chests.

  William Octobr had been reluctant to stretch his last remaining
and diluted magic and take two people back with him, who he barely knew except as beggars when living next door in Bandy Alley. But Poppy had the brown and golden hair of the Octobrs, and he felt he could not deny her the return to her own domain.

  “But I’ve no intention of tramping off to the forest,” he complained. “Once there, you must make your own way.”

  “I know where to go,” said Poppy. “And I’m not going to risk bumping into my Granny or my parents because they’d stop me.” She sighed. “Besides, I proved last time I can do special things on my own.”

  “With Gilden’s help,” added Sam, looking up suddenly.

  “I don’t need anyone’s help,” said Poppy loudly. “Except the Epilogs, and that’s who I’m going to find.”

  Nathan kept quiet. He had every intention of somehow getting back to find Granny and then travelling with her to Lashtang where they could follow Poppy together. Thinking it best not to argue, which only made his sister more stubborn, he sat and munched on a cheese sandwich.

  “You must repeat after me,” William told them, “Shine, Find, Spin and Bind.” Poppy and Peter both dutifully repeated these words. Then, “Beam, Gleam, Weave and Dream.” Again repeated. “Burst asunder, Rip the veil. Wishes sundered, Wings torn and hopes denied. Now take the step that cannot fail, and come inside.”

  As the last voices died away, the air seemed to shiver, and it looked as though it was snowing inside the hall with dancing, glowing snowflakes. Then the snow turned to mist, and the shadows also shivered. As the mist and shadows faded away, the old man, Peter and Poppy had all quite disappeared.

  “Gonna member them words,” said John. “Be mighty useful, I reckons.”

  “I think,” said Nathan, his mouth still full, “you have to have some magic first. If you don’t, then the words won’t take you anywhere.”