The Battle for Duncragglin

by Andrew H. Vanderwal

  Alex got down on his knees and peered into the dark opening. “Great. What do we do now? Crawl in after him?”

  Willie sat back on a mound. “We wait. He's got to come out sometime. We can hide behind the tall grass and get him when he sticks his head out.”

  “That might take a long time.” Alex sighed.

  “It's what hunting is all about,” Willie said. “Sometimes it takes hunters all day to make a single kill.”

  “But we haven't got all day. Anyway, don't they have a back door to their burrows?”

  “Of course!” Willie twisted. He froze, eyes wide. Only thirty feet away was the big brown hare, up on its hind legs, watching them.

  Very, very slowly, Alex raised his crossbow. Both sights along the stock lined up against the brown furry shape, and he ever so gently squeezed the trigger. Feeling the bow recoil, he saw neither bolt nor hare.

  “You've got him!” Willie shrieked, leaping over to where the hare had sat watching.

  Alex rose slowly, reluctant to see what he had done. “Is he dead?”

  “I think so.” Willie looked down into the tall grass. He lowered his bow and prodded something with his foot.

  A brown form lay on its side, its hind leg twitching. Alex was horrified to see that it was still alive and suffering. He fumbled to put another bolt into his crossbow, but before he could get it tensioned and ready to fire off another shot, the twitches became slower and less frequent. They stopped. He heard swishing noises in the grass from Annie and Craig running up behind him.

  “Brilliant,” Craig roared. “What a shot! Right through the middle.”

  “The hare doesn't think it's so brilliant,” Annie noted dryly.

  Willie gave it a nudge. “Take a look. The hare does not think. In case you haven't noticed, it's dead.”

  Annie stared sadly at the hare's black lifeless eyes. “I hope it doesn't have any babies to look after,” she said.

  “If it does, they need to look after themselves now,” Willie retorted. “That's life.”

  “No, it is not.” Annie glared fiercely at Willie. “That's death. There's a big difference.”

  “Save it.” Willie wriggled the bolt out of the hare and handed it to Alex. “That's simply the way it is. The only thing you need think about now is dinner.”

  Imagining a bowlful of steaming hot, chunky rabbit stew made Alex realize how hungry he was. He told himself there was no reason to feel guilty. And who was Annie to be critical? He would rather have lived the short life of that rabbit than be one of the animals on the McRae farm, left to stand in its own poop for most of its life.

  He wiped the bolt against the grass, purposely leaving some blood on the shaft. He wanted to recognize it as his lucky bolt so he could pick it next time they were hunting.

  It was a good-sized hare. Willie tied its hind feet together and used the same rope to sling it over his shoulder. The hare's dangling front paws slapped the tops of Willie's legs as he walked.

  12

  FIRE

  Annie looked out over the rocky point and marveled how little had changed. “If you're a rock, seven hundred years is just a blink in history,” she said.

  Willie bent and picked up a stick. “Let's collect some firewood to take with us,” he suggested. “That way, we won't have to come back out.”

  Alex raked around for dry bits of kindling. A thought occurred to him. “Do you have anything to light this with, Annie?”

  “Don't you?” Annie suddenly looked concerned.

  Willie glanced back and forth between them. “Having raw rabbit was not what I had in mind,” he said nervously. “Please tell me we have something to light a fire.”

  “I think so,” Alex said, looking doubtfully at his handful of dry moss, leaves, and dead pine needles. “But … it will take some doing.”

  They piled twigs and branches into each others' arms so high that it blocked their view. Staggering and stumbling all the way to the rocky point, they gratefully dropped their armloads into a single large heap.

  Alex straightened and had a look around. Tall rock formations cast long shadows down to the water's edge. Behind him loomed a huge slab, one end sticking up high enough to offer shelter. Annie ducked under it and pulled a blanket from her sack.

  “Aren't you worried it might fall?” Alex asked.

  “I used to be,” Annie said, “especially when Willie's friends would climb up top and jump while we were under it, but not anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, if it's still standing over seven hundred years from now, it can't very well fall on us now, can it?”

  Alex felt silly. “I guess that's true.” He sighed and slung down his sack. “I will sleep better knowing that.” He held out his hand. “Can I have your dagger please, Craig?”

  Craig hesitated and Alex wiggled his fingers.

  “Cm on, let's go. I need it to make a fire starter. We've got to hurry if we're to get a fire going before sundown.”

  Craig watched as Alex painstakingly whittled bark off a curved stick and attached a sack drawstring to each end.

  Willie stopped to watch, tilting his head skeptically. “How's that supposed to work?”

  “Easy. We spin a stick with this bow until the bottom gets really hot and ignites.”

  “You've done this before?”

  “No … but it can't be that hard. I saw them do this at an Aboriginal village once.”

  Willie rolled his eyes and Alex angrily threw down his sticks. “Do you think I'm doing all this for fun? Do you have a better idea?”

  “Flint.”

  “Flint. Oh, why didn't I think of that?” Alex mockingly slapped the side of his head. “You idiot, teeny tiny sparks aren't going to light a fire! Don't waste your time.”

  “This is the waste of time. Cm on, Annie, let's find some flint. There's sure to be some along the shore.” Willie stomped away.

  “I bet I'll start a fire before you do,” Alex called after him.

  Willie turned. “You're on. The loser has to be a slave for a whole day.”

  “Deal!”

  “You'll be fetching my food, slave.”

  Alex quickly got to work. He pressed down on the stick while twirling it back and forth with the bow. The bottom emitted a rhythmic squeak.

  He heard a clink, clink off to one side. Willie was smacking two rocks together over a handful of dry moss.

  “Careful you don't get your fingers caught,” Alex sang out merrily.

  Willie mumbled something and gave his rocks an extra-hard bash. One landed in his little pile of dried moss and scattered it about.

  Alex choked back a laugh. “Have you ever done this before?”

  Furious, Willie reassembled his moss, turned his back, and renewed his efforts. Craig and Annie burst into a fit of giggling.

  Willie raised a fist. “Watch it!”

  “Ooh/i, I'm scared.” Alex giggled. “Annie, save me.”

  Willie hunched over his pile of moss with his rocks. Sparks flew and he bent to puff gently onto the moss.

  Worried, Alex tried to make the bow move faster. The string kept slipping, so he made a new knot. Again, it slipped. Fumbling another attempt to tie it tighter, he flung the bow away.

  Annie picked it up. “Let me try.” She picked apart the tangled bundle of overtied string and reattached it with a simple loop knot.

  Alex tried again, vigorously pulling and pushing on the bow. Craig helped by pressing down on the top with another stick. The twirling stick hummed, its rounded end rubbing a smooth dent into the base.

  Willie took up a new technique, smashing a large rock down on a smaller one. Bigger sparks flew, but none made any lasting impression.

  Alex's arms ached. He pressed on and on until, with one extrahard push, the fire-stick slipped and clattered to the ground. He put his finger to the dent it had made in the wood, quickly pulling back. “It's hot!” he exclaimed.

  Excited, Annie knelt opposite Craig to help him hold the st
ick. Alex worked the bow again, sweat trickling down his face.

  “Give me that.” Willie suddenly caught the end of the moving bow.

  Alex looked up, alarmed.

  “I didn't have the right kind of rocks,” Willie mumbled, his eyes averted.

  Working together, they made the stick twirl faster.

  Fascinated, they watched as a small blackened ring of sawdust formed around its base.

  “Do you smell something?” Annie sniffed hopefully.

  “That was just me,” Willie retorted gruffly. “Pay it no mind.”

  “No, I smell something burning.”

  “Smoke!” Craig burst out gleefully.

  “It's working!” Willie put on an extra burst of speed. The base of the stick emitted an unmistakable gray hint of smoke.

  “Don't … ease … up,” Alex panted, his arms feeling like they were about to fall off.

  The sawdust flared and died. Annie sprinkled shavings. There was another flare-up. Tiny flames flickered and the shavings became a red glow. They watched breathlessly as more ignited. Never before had such tiny flames brought them such joy.

  “We did it! We did it!” Craig jumped up and down.

  They sprinkled larger and larger shavings on the flames, followed by twigs propped over the growing fire. Before they knew it, they were all dancing madly around flames, which shot up as high as their shoulders.

  “Fire! We make fire!” Willie hopped heavily from one foot to another.

  Even the normally reserved Annie did twirls, arms raised to the sky. Finally exhausted, tired of clapping each other on the back and giving high fives, they collapsed into a heap beside the crackling flames.

  “Guess what?” Annie said. “We've used up all the firewood.”

  Alex looked over to where the pile had been and rolled back with a groan. There were but a few small twigs – not enough to keep the fire going overnight. And beyond the flames, everything was black.

  Alex scrambled to his feet. “We better get more before it's too dark to see! Annie, you and Craig go back to the forest; Willie and I can check the shoreline for driftwood.”

  “No way!” Craig looked to the dark menacing forest in dismay. “I want to go with Willie,” he said.

  “Okay, I'll go with Annie, but we get to take the crossbow.” Alex slung the quiver over his shoulder. “And try to bring back some big stuff – we'll need it!”

  Up ahead, the forest was no more than a black silhouette one that Alex knew could contain all sorts of hidden dangers. Crossing the bare open rock, he couldn't shake the feeling that there were eyes in those woods – eyes that were watching them, following them. He trained the crossbow on a random spot, shifting it quickly to aim it at another. “Maybe we should skip the forest and check the shoreline instead. A couple of big pieces of driftwood are all we'll need.”

  Impatient, Annie strode on ahead. “We know there's wood in the forest, so let's go,” she said. “And stop making me so nervous!”

  Alex lowered his bow. Heart pounding, he kept step with Annie as the black wall of forest loomed over them. There's no one there, there's no one there, there's no one there, he repeated to himself.

  Once the forest had actually swallowed them up, Alex felt better. Now they were hidden too, and nothing had gotten them yet. But once Annie piled firewood into his arms so high he could barely see over it and sent him back across the exposed rocks to camp, he felt more vulnerable than ever.

  A few branches fell from his pile and clattered onto the rocks. “Forget about them,” Alex pleaded, but Annie put down her branches and painstakingly reloaded each of the fallen sticks.

  Alex tried to reassure himself that if anyone was there with a bow trained on his back, surely they would have shot him by now. Finally, the forest well behind them, he regretted having been so scared, especially when Annie'd been so brave. Alex dumped his wood near the fire.

  Craig sat huddled by the warmth of the fire, his back to Alex. He did not turn to see what Alex had brought.

  “What's the matter, Craig? Scared by the bogeyman?” Alex reassuringly put a hand on Craig's shoulder. “Don't worry. I was spooked out there too.”

  The small form stirred and looked up.

  Startled, Alex almost fell over backwards. It wasn't Craig!

  13

  THE UNLUCKY RABBIT'S FOOT

  “Please don't hurt me,” squeaked the intruder. A teary face appeared briefly before disappearing behind thin folded arms.

  “Alex, put that thing away!” Annie waved her arm angrily. “Can't you see it's just a frightened wee lassie?”

  Alex lowered his crossbow, shooting nervous glances to the darkness past the flames. “Is there anyone else out there?” His voice shook.

  “Th-Th-They're gone. They're all gone.”

  “Who's gone, my dear?” Annie sat next to the little girl and gently stroked her tangled hair.

  “My family – my mama, my papa, Wilfie, Susie … they're all gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  “Heaven. They've all gone to heaven,” the little girl wailed, burying her face once again.

  “What happened?” Annie dreaded to ask, but the question popped out.

  “They burned down our house.” The girl clutched her knees and turned herself into a little ball. “They wouldn't let anyone out. Papa tried, but they shot him so he went back in.”

  “Your family was burned alive?” Annie blurted out, horrified. “Who … who would do such a thing?”

  Her voice sounded small and distant: “Soldiers.”

  “How could they … why would anyone …?” Alex fumbled for words. The magnitude of what he had heard left him numb and dazed.

  “It wasn't true.” The girl rocked back and forth. “Papa wasn't an enemy of the castle lord; Papa just didn't have enough money to pay them. He paid them all he could, but they kept coming back for more. Papa said he needed to feed his family, and they said he was an enemy, but it wasn't true!”

  A heavy silence fell over them. Alex thought of terrified children screaming, smoke stinging their eyes; the hacking, coughing, gasping; the flames….

  The little girl leaned into Annie.

  “Poor, poor dear.” Annie held her gently. “You must be exhausted.”

  Alex went to make her a bed. He wished they had brought back pine bough cuttings to use for a mattress. Tomorrow they would get organized. Tonight, however, he was not going to venture back into that forest.

  Choosing an area close to the fire, Alex stretched out his blanket. He folded it twice, so it was a quarter of its original size, figuring that the girl could sleep on three layers and have the fourth over her. He did his best to bunch up a sack into a pillow.

  Footsteps crunched on the gravel-like stones. Alex recognized Willie's voice and Craig's laugh. Seeing the girl, Willie hastily dropped his firewood and strung an arrow. Alex blocked his way, then explained what had happened.

  Willie slowly lowered his bow. “Good God! Hesselrigge and his men are worse than we thought,” he said.

  Annie tucked the sleeping girl into the bed Alex had prepared. Firelight shadows flickered over her dirty little face. Shooing the boys to the other side of the fire, Annie said, “She's exhausted; let her sleep, poor thing. Her name's Katie. She's been hiding out here on the coast living off clams and bits of seaweed. Imagine being only six years old and out here all by yourself for days – no fire, no blanket, cold and black nights.”

  “What are we going to do with her?” Craig asked. “Can we take her back home with us?”

  Willie snorted. “She's no stray cat,” he said. “We need to send her to a neighbor.”

  “We can't.” Annie pulled a blanket from her sack. “She told me that her neighbors are afraid that Hesselrigge's men will come looking for her.”

  Alex placed a piece of heavy driftwood across the fire. Willie knelt to arrange his blanket.

  “We're going to have to share these blankets,” Annie said pointedly. “We no longer hav
e one for everyone.”

  Willie opened his mouth to protest. Instead, he got up and walked away. “You figure it out.”

  Annie spread out the largest blanket and covered it with two smaller ones for them to share. She rolled her sack into a pillow and promptly lay down in the middle.

  “Not bad,” she declared. “It's a bit hard, but I think I can sleep like this.”

  “I get the middle too.” Craig plopped himself down next to Annie.

  That left the outsides. Alex placed his bow next to his pillow, loosely inserting a bolt. Willie snuggled in and pulled the blanket he was sharing with his sister up to his chin. “Rabbit for breakfast,” he reminded everyone.

  “Where is that rabbit?” Annie asked.

  “I put it in a crevice with the rest of our food. I rolled some big rocks in front so nothing can get at it while we're sleeping.”

  Craig lifted his head. “Like what?”

  “Werewolves,” Willie answered, without hesitation. “We'll have to keep an eye out for them. They like to eat little boys.”

  Craig disappeared under the blanket.

  “Don't be silly, Willie,” Alex said. “There are no werewolves out here. Can't you see it's not a full moon?”

  “It's almost a full moon.”

  “Not good enough; they come out only when the moon is completely full. We won't have to worry about werewolves for two or three days.”

  The top of Craig's head and eyes slowly emerged from under the blankets. “Are you sure it's only when the moon is completely full?”

  “Absolutely sure,” Alex said. “It's the same with vampires.”

  “Vampires?” Craig disappeared under the blanket again.

  “Aren't they far away in Transylvania?” Annie asked.

  “They fly, remember?” Alex replied. “Vampires spread all over Europe. It took people a while to figure out how to kill them.”

  “You mean, by driving a stake into their heart?”

  “Precisely. There's no other way to prevent them from turning into vampire bats at each full moon and biting people, who then also become vampires. They had trouble figuring out who were the true vampires, so they probably hammered stakes into the hearts of a lot of innocent people.”