He paused to recover some of his composure. “Sorry, my lord… bad form to shout… I’m sorry… it’s just that…” Henry put up his hand. “It’s alright, Kreedy… I’m sorry, too… I know you have a lot of important work to do… and you’ve been very kind to me and I know… without you… well, who knows what would have become of me…? I owe you my life… and I thank you and I’m indebted to you,” Henry said in one of his more diplomatic tones, “and Dunk of course… he helped you, too, you know,” Kreedy blurted out. “Yes, and I thank Dunk, too… But the fact remains… I do have to get home and the sooner I’m gone… the sooner you… and Dunk can continue with your important work… I’m sure you don’t want the likes of me hanging around all day.”
Kreedy sat down at the old, wonky table opposite Henry and leant forward on his bony arms, resting his strange head in his hands. “And just where is your home?” he said flatly. “Whitchurch,” Henry replied. “And where is this… this Whitchurch?” Kreedy said just as flatly. “It’s a town at the edge of the woodland… you must know of it.” Henry was really surprised that the all-knowing and all-seeing Kreedy knew nothing of a town so close to the edge of the woodland.
Kreedy sat forward a little, looking over his oversized glasses. “A town…” He gave a funny, high-pitched laugh. “You live in a town… what with people and all that?” he said mockingly. “I mean… a lord of nature… and I emphasise the word ‘nature’… lives in a town… I thought it a bit strange to see you in one of those motor car things… but to live in a town as well…” Still laughing, Kreedy was now seemingly at a loss for words. Henry felt a little embarrassed. He could see how silly it would look to others and could understand why Kreedy was mocking him. By anyone’s standards it must look odd for a woodland creature such as him, living in a town and among humans… He wouldn’t know how to start to explain how it came about… But it had suited him for many years and he had always enjoyed the benefits and comforts that came with it and wasn’t prepared to give those up anytime soon.
Still a little lost for words, Henry senior got up from the table and walked over to the back door and opened it, breathing in the fresh woodland air. He then turned to face Kreedy, ignoring the large smile on his face and the mocking tone in his voice. “The black and white photo above the fireplace… who are they?” he enquired. Kreedy smiled. “My friends,” he said, getting up and walking over to Henry and placing a hand on his shoulder. “My best friends… Grog and Nog… I took it myself, you know…” he said proudly. “I have this device thingy-a-bob… that people call a… a… Oh never mind… I’ve forgotten what it’s called… it doesn’t really matter… I’m sure to have it written down somewhere,” he said, getting a little frustrated with himself. “It’s called a camera,” Henry said, trying to help the odd fellow out. “Damn and blast it… Who cares what it’s called!?” Kreedy shouted, angry that Henry knew something he didn’t. “All I know is that it took images… and that’s enough as far as I’m concerned.”
Henry, trying to overlook his outburst, said calmly, “I’ve never seen the likes of them before… What are they?” “My friends… that’s what they are… they’re just my friends and that’s all you need to know,” Kreedy replied angrily. Henry was now getting a little annoyed himself, fed up with the odd man’s continuous outbursts. Kreedy, realising again how bitter and angry he had become, stopped to take a breath. “I don’t get much company here… and it’s apparent by my behaviour that I have no idea how to conduct myself around others or how to treat my guests… I apologise again, my lord, for my poor conduct.” He looked a little sheepish and embarrassed. “Kreedy, you have cared for me and fed me… you have no need to apologise… I didn’t mean to seem rude, but I’ve never seen creatures like you friends before and wondered where you come from.”
It was becoming quite apparent to Henry that Kreedy had put himself on a pedestal as being the fountain of all knowledge, and didn’t like it if someone knew something he didn’t. It was also apparent that he knew less than he made out and used his outbursts to cover the fact, which was a little worrying. If he’s not what he says he is… then what or who is he? No matter. Henry really needed to get back to his home… sooner rather than later… and wasn’t interested in getting into any more arguments with this funny man. However, he needed to be pointed in the right direction home, so he had decided, with the fear of reprisals, to ask Kreedy again which direction it was back to the town. Henry walked over to a wooden-framed rack where his coat had been drying in front of the now dead fire, picked it up and checked through the pockets. Satisfied that everything was in place, he put it on and walked back over to the door. “I’ve enjoyed your company and hospitality, Kreedy, but I must make a start home… We both have important matters to deal with… and I don’t wish to hold you up any longer than I already have… I’d be grateful if you could show me the way back to the road,” he said, trying to be diplomatic for fear of upsetting him again.
Kreedy didn’t seem to be listening. Instead he stood at the door staring outside. It was obvious that his mind was elsewhere. Mentioning the photo made him start to wonder again what might have happened to his two friends. He had always been successful in locking his worries away, but it only needed something or someone to release the lock and allow them to come pouring out. It’d been years since he last heard from them. Usually that wouldn’t have worried him. They were nomads and never seemed to settle anywhere for long; but taking the dangers and recent events into consideration, he was becoming more than a little concerned for their safety. “Kreedy… are you alright?” Henry said softly, trying to get his attention again.
Kreedy turned to face him. “Yes… yes, I’m fine… Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied, trying to compose himself. “And yes… you’re quite right… we all have things to do, places to go, and so on.” He tried to sound important. “We’re in Nappers Wood… I live in Nappers Wood…You should have known that,” he snapped, “and I’m sure you know your way home from here,” he said almost dismissively. Of course , Henry knew of Nappers Wood, and also that it was on the other side of the woodland to where he lived. “How long do you think it would take me to get home from here?” he asked.
Kreedy had already started to go about his business again and was halfway up an unsafe-looking, old, wooden ladder. He mumbled something as he rummaged through a large shelf of old books. Again, totally oblivious to anything Henry had to say – Henry had had enough of this moody old man and decided to leave him to it – he pushed his hand into his coat pocket and headed towards the door. “Don’t make yourself a stranger now,” Kreedy called after him, still rummaging through his books.
Henry was no sooner out of the door when Kreedy came running up behind him. “My lord… my lord!” he shouted. “I’ve neglected to introduce you to Dunk,” he said excitedly as he ran right past Henry and didn’t not stop until he reached the edge of the clearing that surrounded his home. “Over here,” he called. By now, Henry’s eyes had adjusted to the light but he was still squinting due to a dull pain in the back of his eyes. He walked over to the excited Kreedy. It was the first time Henry had had the chance to see the outside of Kreedy’s home. It looked surprisingly tiny in comparison to the inside and looked to be no more than a tiny porch burrowed into an ivy-covered hill. It was so well concealed by the overgrowth that it would have been easily missed by any walker-by.
On careful examination, he could see that the porch had a small, dirt-covered window set to one side, and it was situated on the side of a large hill, which meant that the rest of his home was under the embankment itself, highly concealed and safe from prying eyes, which to Henry seemed ironic if taken into consideration what Kreedy did for a living: all he ever did was spy on everyone. In the yard and running around the huge amount of old, unused, strange-looking, rusted mechanical equipment were a vast amount of muddy chickens, and the whole clearing was surrounded by dense woodland and undergrowth. He would never have known where he was if Kreedy hadn’t
told him. To his dismay, Henry senior was becoming increasingly aware that he was so out of touch with things… And if he wanted to get through the next few days alive, he had better get a grip. He gingerly walked over to Kreedy, dodging the chickens running between his legs and trying to avoid slipping on the muddy ground. He stopped a few feet from him and waited. Kreedy smiled and then looked up at a large tree standing just in front of him and said, smiling, “Dunk, this is Lord Elwine… but these days he likes to be called Henry…” He looked back at Henry. “My lord, this is Dunk.”
At first glance, it looked like he was being introduced to a normal tree: it stood somewhere between twenty and thirty feet high and, like all the trees around, it had dropped its leaves and looked no different to any of the others. It then moved a little, as it did, it made a kind of creaking sound which reminded Henry of the sound you’d hear on an old sailing vessel when the timbers rubbed gently against each other. The tree then bent forward slightly and opened two small, round eyes, making the timber around them creak and giving them the appearance of two eyeballs placed in the centre of the knots you find in a plank of wood.
Henry stepped back a little, nearly slipping on the mud when it spoke. It was not so much a voice, but more a deep grinding, creaking sound, and there was no sign of a mouth. “My lord,” it said, still bent forward as if it was in a bow. Henry regained his composure and stepped forward. “It’s an honour to meet with you, Dunk,” he said formally, “and thank you for your help… Kreedy told me how you helped save me… It’s most appreciated.” Dunk blinked and then straightened up to its full height, creaking as he did so, and then closed its eyes. “Always nice to meet someone new, isn’t it…?” Kreedy said in a jolly tone, clasping his hands together.
Henry senior found Dunk fascinating and stood looking up at it for a while, waiting for it to move again, but it was now apparent that the introductions were over. He’d had a nasty bump on the head so questioned himself whether the tree did in fact move … and that it spoke to him… Despite how unwell he felt and the dangerous situation he found himself in, he was really pleased that he had met a real, live tree-morph. Kreedy looked over his thick glasses. “My lord,” he said, interrupting his thoughts. “That’s the direction you should be heading in… that will take you to the road where we found you.” He pointed directly behind him. Feeling the way he did, Henry wasn’t much looking forward to his trek home and to add insult to injury, it had now stated to rain again, making his journey home even more miserable.
But, now that he had been shown the direction, Henry had a good idea how to get home from Nappers Wood. He would head for the road where Kreedy found him via the familiar woodland trails, from there he’ll try and hitch a ride into town. He was still staring up at Dunk, planning his route home, when Kreedy offered him his hand. “Well met, my lord,” he said. Henry took it and nodded. “Well met, Kreedy,” Henry replied. “You saved my life… and I thank you again.” He released his handgrip and then turned to walk off in the direction he had been shown. Kreedy stood and watched him a moment. “You’re going to have to make a choice, ya know!” he shouted after him.
Henry stopped in his tracks and at first didn’t look back. He knew exactly what the odd man meant, but had no idea how he knew. Henry turned around to face Kreedy who was still standing next to Dunk, but now with a sinister grin on his face. “It’s all in the books, ya know,” Kreedy said mockingly. “Everything… and as I always say… knowledge is power, my lord.” Now sounding more sinister. “You should really take the time to read them sometime …Ya know it may help you and your family in your fight against the darkness.” Henry didn’t reply, waiting for Kreedy to continue. “You’ve made bad choices… and, as such, made more enemies than you realise… So take care, my lord… take real care,” and with that he turned and walked back in the direction of his house and disappeared through the door.
Sometime later, Henry senior found himself muddy, wet and miserable as he made his way along the muddy track through the centre of the woodland, cursing to himself for getting into such a situation in the first place; and as for that know-it-all Kreedy, he knew far too much for comfort. Perhaps he’d misread him: perhaps he did know everything that was going on. He sighed. He wasn’t sure what to think anymore, but there was one thing that he was sure of and that was that there was nothing he could do about it now. So to try and cheer himself up a little, he turned his thoughts towards getting home and what comforts awaited him there.
Just when he thought that things couldn’t get any worse, he came across a steep, sloping bank covered in small trees and shrubs. It had been raining all day, which was going to make it difficult, if not impossible, to climb. Rivers of mud washed down the incline, meeting up at his feet to make a small, muddy river which ran off down the trackway. Henry studied the small but steep hill for a moment, and due to dense brambles and small, shrubby trees, could see no clear route up it. He knew exactly where he was in the woodland and that if he followed the track and went around the hill, it would put at least another two hours on his journey. So, he decided, against his better judgement, that he would to try to climb over the embankment.
At first, he was doing relatively well and took only a few minutes to get halfway up the incline. He had been using the trees and shrubs as handgrips to pull himself up, but the higher he got, the thinner the vegetation became, forcing him to grope around in the mud to try and find roots or anything else to grab onto, but it seemed that with every step he took going up the slope he would slip two steps back.
Finally, he made it to the top of the embankment. It had taken him only twenty minutes or so, but to him it felt an eternity. Now standing on the top and looking out over the woodland he could see for miles, even though it was getting dark and the gloomy, overhead rain clouds blocked out any sunlight. To his horror he witnessed for himself the damage done by the darkness. A large area covering several acres of land was blackened and dead: there were large, black pathways trailing off in all directions, weaving through the entire woodland. The shadow master was stronger than he had at first thought, and it was evident that he was getting stronger by the day. If young Henry and his sisters were to stop him, they would have to do it soon, otherwise it could be too late… even for the host master.
Up to the point of reaching the muddy embankment he had made relatively good progress. However, after his exhausting climb he was feeling really tired and the pain in his head hadn’t eased much. He had now been walking for hours without a break and, despite his physical discomfort, he was feeling hungry. He knew at his current pace he wouldn’t make it to the edge of the woodland before dark, and had no intention of being caught in the woods after then. It had been a long time since he last visited the woodland and knew that he wouldn’t be able to find his way that well after dark. The risks were too high. The shadow master didn’t want him dead just yet – that much he knew. As long as he had the spearhead he would be spared his life, but… there are things worse than death in this world, and being interrogated by the shadow master again was high on his list of do-nots.
Still standing alone on top of the hill, looking out over the damage done to the woodland and the surrounding countryside, it was painfully apparent to him that at this rate it would only be a matter of weeks before the woodland was completely destroyed. That alone would have a huge impact on not just the country, but also potentially the world, for this small woodland that looked like any other was an important link in the chain of life. Through Acca, the old oak tree, it was linked directly to every woodland and every forest throughout the world, and if we lost this link in the chain of life, then we could eventually lose them all.
Henry senior sighed. He was tired and knew that he could do nothing more today, what he needed now was a place to rest, but he couldn’t get the sight of devastation out of his mind, and was again wondering whether he had made the right decisions in his life or the right alliances, just then he slipped on the mud and rolled head over heels down th
e embankment and stopped abruptly when he ploughed into a tree at the bottom. He sat up, soaking wet and now totally covered top to toe in mud, and cursed under his breath as he checked himself out to see if he had damaged anything other than his dignity.
Luckily, he had just been knocked around a little with a few small cuts, but other than that he was fine. Moaning to himself, he stood up gingerly just to be sure that nothing was broken, satisfied that he was fit to continue his trek, he sighed and then set off to find shelter.
It was early evening and nearly completely dark making it difficult for Henry senior to see where he was going. He couldn’t think of any other time when he had felt so miserable. However, he needed to try and put his discomfort to the back of his mind. His efforts should be concentrated on finding a shelter. Luckily for him, he knew of a little hut which was just a mile away where he could shelter for the night.
He didn’t relish the idea of spending the night in a tiny, damp hut when danger lurked behind every tree, but needs must. He found himself thinking of the warm, comfortable life he had lived these past years and how things stayed the same for so many years, yet change so much in just a few hours. Like his sisters, he knew the day would come when he would be called upon to try and hold the thin line that lay between the light and the dark, but he had always hoped that it would never have to come to this. Things had gone too far and, like his sisters, he knew that he was partly to blame.
Between Darkness and the Light Page 28