Celandine

by Steve Augarde

  The scouts moved cautiously ahead, together with three of the King’s archers. Then came Avlon, and Una – who carried the Touchstone – accompanied by more of the guard. The rest of the tribe followed, with Corben and his own archers bringing up the rear.

  There were too many of them. As the great stone dwellings began to loom above them, dark and solid against the watery moon, it seemed impossible that some pair of wakeful eyes would not catch sight of them, creeping in a straggly line through the rain-washed streets. Somewhere behind those threatening casements there must surely be an ogre who had chanced to observe them, and who might be rousing his comrades at this very moment …

  Una felt sick now, sick with the thought that she had been the one to bring them to this. She wanted to turn around, to go back to the relative safety of the fields and spinneys. The smells of the Gorji, and all their world, was in her nostrils – the mingled odours of baking bread and stale fermentations that wafted up through metal gratings, the strange fruits that lay discarded and rotting beside the raised stone pathways, piles of horse manure, damp ashes. She could smell, too, the scent of her own fear, and the fear of those around her as they hurried past the long lines of black metal railings – cruelly tipped like spears – or hugged the slimy walls of dripping archways and sidestepped the iron-bound wooden doors that were set into the pavements and which spoke of echoing cavernous spaces below. The place was far bigger than it had seemed from their distant hilltop, and Una felt foolish to have imagined that they could ever have floated over it. It was huge.

  Whenever they came to a halt, or a fork in the roadway, the leading party paused and turned to look at her, their anxious eyes searching for hers in the darkness. Which path should they take? And according to the pull of the Stone she would signal the direction, this way or that. The rear body of the party could not always be seen, and so it could only be hoped that nothing had happened to them. Una glanced up at her father and he smiled encouragement at her. She saw that his brow glistened damp in the moonlight, although the rain had stopped some time ago.

  They found a long set of slippery steps that led them up onto a massive bridge, triple arched over a broad river, and here they gathered for a few moments, gazing through the stanchions at the roaring waters below as they waited for the rear guard to join them.

  To either end of the bridge a lantern burned, throwing curved shadows across the long stretch of glistening cobbles, and the thought of crossing such a distance frightened them. Once out in the middle the entire tribe would be completely exposed, trapped if they were seen, and with no way of escaping but to throw themselves into the black torrent that rushed beneath them.

  Yet this was the reason they had risked passing through the settlement – to cross the floods – and now was no time to turn back. One last look around and Peck and Rafe were away, scurrying low, keeping to whatever shadow they could find. There was no possibility of hearing a signal above the roar of the waters, and the main company could only wait until they judged that the scouts had safely reached the other side. Nervously they began to follow.

  Halfway across the bridge Una dropped the Touchstone. A great clanging sound split the night, a single note bursting through the darkness, and in her fright she stumbled against her father. The orb slipped from her grasp, landed on the cobbles and began to roll towards the edge of the bridge. Una staggered forward, lunging for the Stone, but was knocked off balance completely as one of the archers ran into her. She fell and caught a last horrifying glimpse of the orb about to disappear between the stanchions. Her vision was blocked for a few moments, and by the time she had managed to disentangle herself from the fallen archer, the Touchstone had gone.

  Gone! The clanging sound rang out once more, but now Una paid it little heed. She clambered to her feet and stared dumbly at the gap between the stanchions.

  ‘Come on, chi’! ’Tis but a Gorji thing – a tang – a bell.’ Her father’s whispered voice. He was gripping her upper arm, urgently drawing her away …

  A hand miraculously reached out and placed the Touchstone in hers. It was still safe! The waters roared louder as Una allowed herself to be hurried onwards through the confusion. A tang. Yes, she had heard them sometimes, tolling across the distant landscape. A Gorji thing. She clasped the Touchstone to her chest. As they passed beneath the lantern on the far side of the bridge, Una recalled that the hand that returned the Stone to her had been streaked with green.

  The road out of town now lay straight ahead, but it seemed to go on for ever. There were many distant buildings yet to pass, and the nerves of the travellers had been shaken. Could they not find some route other than the main highway? From their vantage point upon the bridge they could see a large area of moonlit parkland bordering the roadside. The parkland was bounded by ornate railings – and a long hedge. A hedge would at least give them shelter and a chance of safety. If they could enter this enclosure, they might make their way forward by keeping close to the line of foliage. There were even some trees in there, a group of tall elms that stood out in the open, some distance from the hedge. That was good – although a cluster of dark and mysterious shapes beneath the trees made them hesitate. Peck and Rafe would scout ahead.

  They descended the steps at the side of the bridge, slipped between the railings by twos and threes, clambered through the hedge beyond, and were glad to find grass and earth beneath their feet once more. The ground was sodden by the heavy rain, but not flooded. This was better.

  Once assembled beneath the shadow of the hedge the tribe felt safer. They began to creep forward, listening for the whistled signals of the scouts. It gradually became apparent that the dark objects beneath the trees were wagons of some sort, although not of the broad open type used by the Gorji fieldworkers. These were taller, for the most part, and covered. Some of them were simply draped over with cloth. Others were like the wagons that occasionally appeared in the woods – the travelling dwellings of those giants who called themselves Romni – that stayed for a few days and then disappeared, leaving only a patch of flattened earth and a pile of woodash to tell of their coming and going.

  And yet there was something else here, something more dangerous than the mere presence of giants.

  The entire company instinctively came to a halt, listening. There was some distance between the hedge and the group of silent wagons beneath the trees, but the long line of tribespeople were nervous of passing by. Why was there no signal from the scouts?

  Una moved out into the field a little way, towards the wagons, gently breathing the damp night air through her nostrils. She heard her father’s whisper – ‘Una!’ – but she continued just a few steps further. The breeze was blowing away from her, and yet she caught a whiff of something. Horses? No … not horses. Animals, though. A little closer, and she might learn more …

  There was a sharp crackle of breaking branches behind her, and she jumped forward in alarm, turning her head to look fearfully over her shoulder. The Ickri were disappearing like rabbits beneath the hedge, and something – someone – was coming over the top of it.

  Gorji. Two of them. One was floundering on the ground, the other balancing on the railings. The second giant leaped forward – and crashed through the hedge. Una fled.

  She scuttled over to the wagons and threw herself beneath the nearest one, crouching low behind one of the wheels. A strong animal smell surrounded her, heavy with musk, unfamiliar.

  The giants were whispering to each other – ‘Shhhhh!’ – and softly giggling. They picked themselves up from the ground and clumsily attempted to brush the mud from their clothing. They were dressed in black and white. The moon sailed bright in a clearing sky now, and Una could see their every move. The figures began creeping towards the wagons – coming her way. She tried to stay calm. Breathe out … breathe in … breathe out … breathe in …

  A soft creak from the wooden planking overhead startled her, and the wheel that she was hiding behind rocked slightly. Una risked a glance upwards. So
mething above her, something very heavy, had momentarily shifted position – an alarming thought, but there was more immediate danger from the approaching giants.

  ‘Which one, do you think?’ They were whispering again.

  ‘Can’t say, old man. Might have to try them all.’

  ‘Hallo, though. What’s this?’ One of the shadowy figures was stooping – picking something up from the ground.

  Una put her hand to her mouth, and tried not to cry out. She could scarce believe it – had not realized what had happened until that moment. It was the Touchstone. Twice – twice – in one night, she had dropped it. In her panic she had failed to even notice. This time it was surely lost to her.

  She was frantic. This could not be. One of the Gorji was holding the Stone up to the moon and staring at it. He was swaying slightly.

  ‘What is it – a co … a coc’nut ball?’

  ‘Bit heavy for that, I sh’think. Jolly little thing, though. Keep it for luck, eh? I’ll put it …’ The giant pulled at his clothing and nearly overbalanced. He let out a long breath, as if to steady himself, ‘ … in my … pocket. There.’

  ‘Very good. Now for the bear. Lesh try this one.’

  ‘Right you are, dear boy.’

  They came staggering towards the very wagon where Una lay hidden. Now she could only see their legs and feet – close enough to touch, they were – and she shrank back behind the spokes of the wheel. Their footwear was very strange, black and shiny in the moonlight. What was she to do about the Touchstone? Breathe out … breathe in …

  ‘Lift up the canvas, old man. Anything in there? See any fur?’

  ‘Shhh.’

  ‘Two hairs from a bear’s backside. One for you, one for me. Bring us luck when we’re soldiering, eh? One f’r you, one f’r me …’

  ‘Shhh.’

  ‘Don’t keep saying “shhh”. Make a feller nerv—Good Lord! What’s that thing?’

  ‘What? I can’t see what’s in there …’

  ‘Not in there. Over there – under the trees. See it?’

  The feet moved back from the wagon a little. Una crept further into the shadow.

  ‘Where? Under what tr—? Oh …’

  The feet were quite still now, and there was a long silence. Una could hear the giants breathing – uneven, panting slightly.

  ‘Is it ash … ash … ashleep, you s’pose?’

  ‘Dunno. I ’spec they must sleep standing up. Like horses. Tell you what – I’ll keep an eye on it. You have another look in there, and I’ll jus’ … I’ll jus’ keep an eye …’

  ‘Right you are, then.’

  One set of shiny black feet moved uncertainly back to the wagon.

  Una heard the voice begin to mutter. ‘Aha! Steady does it, then. One f’r you … and one … f’r me …’ – and then it seemed as though the world had exploded. There was a low rumbling noise above her, a deep gurgling snarl, that burst into a roar so terrible her entire body was shaken by the thundering vibration of it. Una clung to the wet turf for an instant, cowering beneath the awful sound, but then her nerve broke altogether and she wriggled out from beneath the rocking wagon, squealing, with her hands covering her ears. Oblivious to whatever the Gorji might be doing, she scrambled to her feet and ran.

  She ducked under two more wagons, banging one of her wings against a heavy wooden shaft, not caring, desperate only to escape.

  The trees. If she could but find a low branch, she might be safe – anything, anywhere … Into the purple shadows of the elms she ran, as yet another dreadful roar made her instinctively turn her head. Then the darkness swallowed her up completely. Una stretched out her arms to save herself – too late – and blindly crashed into a tree-trunk.

  No, not a tree-trunk. As she fell backwards with the impact, she heard a deep snort of alarm, a bellow of anger, and knew that she had stumbled against something warm and alive. This thing moved – and it was moving now, a massive bulk, swaying in the darkness above her, bigger than a Gorji wagon, bigger than the sky. Una scrambled to her knees, caught the sharp clink of metal upon metal and was suddenly whisked upwards – gasping as the earth shot away from her. Her wings spread automatically and she flapped them in panic, though the world was spinning head over heels. A thump that knocked the breath out of her and she was on her back in the mud again, momentarily helpless, but away from the elms at least, and away from the awful creature that was chained there in the darkness. She rolled over and over, terrified at how the very tree roots shook beneath her.

  The shrill bellows of the trampling monster under the trees were even louder than the roars from the creature in the wagon – such a noise that Una could hardly keep her feet – and amid the roars and bellows came the baying of Gorji hounds, and the angry shouts of Gorji voices.

  ‘Who’s there?’

  ‘Isaac! That you? Flares – get the flares!’

  Flickers of light appeared, flaming brands that threw long sinister shadows across the encampment, so that the leaping figures of the Gorji seemed to be everywhere.

  More shouts:

  ‘Hold the dogs! Hold ’em, Reuben! A pound to a penny it’ll be some o’ they College boys larkin’ about – and we can’t afford to be killing the customers.’

  ‘College? Well, just let I get a sight of ’em, then. I’ll give ’em some larnin’ they’ll not forget.’

  The hounds barked and yelped, demented with frustration at being held back from their quarry.

  Una dodged between the wagons, anywhere to escape the mayhem, whimpering with terror. The hedge. She had to get away from this monstrous din and back to the hedge, where there was at least some chance of safety. She could see the long dark line of foliage, not so very far away, but the idea of covering that stretch of open ground was terrifying. Would they see her? There was no time to wonder – just run. A deep breath, and she broke cover, scampering across the moonlit grass and keeping as low as she could.

  Almost immediately there was a horrible choking noise from somewhere behind her – a strangled yelp – and then a howl of triumph. They’d seen her! One of the hounds had seen her …

  ‘Towler!’ A shout, raw on the night air. ‘Damnblast the thing – he’s loose! Towler! Leave it! Leave it!’

  Una dared not look. The hedge was dancing towards her, but not quickly enough. She would never be able to reach it in time, could never outrun the horror that was chasing her. The splatter of heavy paws and the eager panting breath – so near – drove her to one last effort. Just as it seemed that the thing must drag her down, she flapped her wings and rose clumsily at the hedge, heard the dreadful click of powerful jaws snapping around her legs, felt the rough brush of leaves against her toes, flapped once again, and she was over.

  Over the hedge and the railing spikes she tumbled, exhausted … and landed straight into the lap of a giant. Too late she saw it coming – a glimpse of shiny black footwear, a huge upturned face – but there was not a thing that she could do about it. Her shoulder crumpled against the giant’s stomach, and she grabbed frantically at loose material, struggling to right herself.

  The giant said ‘Oof!’, and one of his big arms knocked against her, so that she was sent spinning away from him. Una crashed into the railings, banging her head on one of the metal bars, and for a few moments was utterly helpless. The hound was barking and whining on the other side of the hedge, and the giant was struggling to sit up, but Una was unable to move for the deep dark pain in her head.

  The Gorji appeared to slowly split himself into two, to grow another torso – an awful thing to behold – but then Una realized that there really were two of them after all, one of them appearing from behind the other. It was the same pair that she had been hiding from earlier. They must have clambered back over the hedge, and now they were hiding – sprawled out on the flat wet paving stone behind the railings, hoping not to be seen. Why could she not move? The hound had stopped barking. Perhaps it had gone away.

  The blurry sound of a voice seemed t
o wake her.

  ‘Maurice, old man … can you see it as well? Or is it just me?’

  ‘No no no. I see it too. Do ass … assure you, John. See it perf’ly well … Must have escaped from the men … menajry. Zoo. Monkey of some sort.’

  ‘Don’t think it is a monkey, though.’

  ‘Nor do I, old chum. Perf’ly honest.’

  The giants were both sitting up now, one leaning forward to peer unsteadily at her.

  ‘Tell you what, John … Make a dam’ fine mascot, eh? For the reg’ment. Dam’ fine – don’t you think?’

  ‘Agree with you, abshlutely. Better than some mangy old terrier.’

  ‘Shall we keep it?’

  ‘Got to catch it first.’

  ‘Tally-ho, then.’

  The giants began to struggle to their feet, and the movement brought Una to her senses at last. She grasped one of the metal railings and pulled herself upright.

  Along the opposite side of the road ran a wall, too high for her to scramble over, but there was a large open gateway set into the stonework, and beyond the gate she thought that she could see yew trees. Trees meant safety. After the horrors she had witnessed this night, these two stumbling ogres were not so very frightening, but she was dizzy with pain and as unsteady on her feet as the Gorji themselves.

  As she pushed herself away from the railings, she heard one of the giants gasp in amazement.

  ‘My … my God, Maurice! Look at that! Do you see? It’s got … it’s got wings …’

  Una staggered out into the muddy roadway, slipped and almost fell, yet still managed to reach the wall before the Gorji had even stepped from the side path. Beneath the arched gateway and into the shadows beyond she crept, looking about her for a place to hide. She found no shortage – for there were large blocks of stone set in the grassy earth, row upon row of them in the moonlight, some tall and strangely carved, cross-shaped, some plain and squat like great caskets. Amid the rows of stones a curving pathway led towards a massive dwelling, dark and alone, with a tower that rose tall against the night sky. In such a place as this she could hide from a whole tribe of giants. There would be no need for her to fly up into one of the yew trees, and thus risk being seen. Una ducked down behind one of the cross-shaped stones, pressed a hand to her aching head, and waited.