Moon Crossing - A Fellhounds of Thesk Story

by Farr, Cathy;

  ‘Stay inside the forest for as long as you can,’ she said quietly and melted back into the dense woodland of Lovage Hall.

  It was only then Wil noticed that it had stopped raining.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Friends No More

  The ride through Mistle Forest was lightened considerably by Phinn and Mia. Son and daughter of Tarek – the Fellhound that Mortimer had tragically lost on that fateful Moon Chase – they tirelessly charged through the trees and bounded into the long grass at the edge of the forest, returning on command when they looked to be straying too close to open country.

  ‘Well, they certainly seem to like each other!’ said Wil in an attempt to get Mortimer talking.

  ‘Yep!’ was Mortimer’s curt reply.

  A yelp came from somewhere behind them. Wil turned. Mia had Phinn pinned to the ground, her huge jaws around her brother’s throat.

  ‘Mia, gentle!’ roared Mortimer. Mia immediately let go and with a single booming bark jumped backwards, lazily wagging her huge tail. Free of his sister, Phinn lunged, ducked behind her and nipped her on the rump. It was Mia’s turn to object with a loud yelp. Then both hounds raced at full pelt in a huge circle, darting between the trees, their massive strides covering the ground at breakneck speed.

  Taking advantage of the antics of the young hounds, Wil made yet another attempt to get Mortimer to talk.

  ‘It’s great to see Phinn playing with something his own size. At home he’s got the choice between the Peachley herding dogs or the tiny Grizzledale Terriers – or the sheep, of course… well, he thinks the sheep are one of the choices anyway!’

  Mortimer said nothing.

  Inwardly cringing, Wil recalled a particularly embarrassing afternoon back in Mistlegard when Phinn tried to play with the sheep – thank goodness they weren’t lambing at the time! Fortunately, Phinn had grasped Wil’s instruction that he wasn’t allowed to hurt the sheep – unfortunately, not chasing them or pinning them down by the throat were instructions Phinn chose to completely ignore! After that, Wil kept Phinn in the confines of an unused sheep fold. But he wasn’t on his own for long – the smaller village dogs soon overcame their fear of his huge size and their daily visits meant he was never short of company for a game of chase. But the only time Wil could let Phinn really run free was out on Peachley Hills or in the forest. There Phinn could run for miles without doing any harm.

  Now, riding through the damp trees, Wil gave up trying to get Mortimer to talk. Instead he watched Phinn and Mia in their own frantic game. Stretching every sinew to gain ground, Phinn tucked his nose under Mia’s ribcage and lifted her clean off her feet. Once brought down, his massive jaws closed around her throat; then, almost as if he were counting to three, he would jump away to let her take up the chase. The game went on for quite some time and Wil was delighted to hear Gisella’s laughter behind him. Every now and then she shouted encouragement to Mia. But each time her voice rang out Mortimer stiffened. Confused, Shadow danced sideways thinking that Mortimer was urging him into a canter and on more than one occasion Wil nearly toppled off.

  As dawn matured into morning the young hounds finally started to flag. Only then did Farrow join them and for a long while all three ambled along behind the horses, sniffing every tree stump and grassy mound that flanked the path.

  Suddenly Farrow took off into the dark forest at full pelt.

  ‘Oh, I think she’s seen lunch!’ said Seth beaming proudly. Almost immediately Farrow reappeared. Something dead was swinging limp from her jaws.

  ‘There we are Mortimer, a marbussal!’ shouted Seth as Farrow delivered her prize – a plump, deer-like creature covered in red feathers. He turned to Gisella, ‘My aunt cooked one for us last yulefest. I was really surprised – it was really nice!’ His eyes shone at the memory but Mortimer’s terse response wiped the smile straight off Seth’s face.

  ‘We won’t have time for cooking, let alone plucking. Martha gave us food – eat that. The hounds can share that later!’

  Seth slowed his horse, took the marbussal from Farrow’s mouth and then fell-in a little way behind. They rode on in silence.

  Mortimer’s bad mood continued to cast a shadow over the morning and Wil knew he was going to have to say something. At last he thought he’d found the right words.

  ‘Look, Mortimer, I don’t know what Gisella’s done but I’m not sure it’s fair to take it out on Seth like that!’

  Mortimer’s jaw twitched but he didn’t say a word.

  Although it had stopped raining, the going was frustratingly slow through the forest. All around them, the trees released heavy drops of freezing water like tiny ice bombs – every one precisely aimed to chill the neck of an unsuspecting rider as they passed under the green canopy. For a very short time it was quite amusing. Wil listened jealously to Seth and Gisella’s squeals and giggles the first few times icy water trickled down their necks; but it wasn’t long before the novelty wore off and their mirth turned to peevish complaints about the cold.

  A lifetime later Wil noticed that the trees were not as densely packed and brighter light indicated that they were right at the edge of the forest. His thighs ached and his bottom was completely numb. All he wanted to do was get his feet back onto solid ground so that he could stretch his legs.

  ‘I really think we need to stop for a break, Mortimer,’ he said hopefully.

  Mortimer’s reply was reasonable, Wil noted, but still stubbornly sullen.

  ‘No. We have to get to the Black Stone before dark. You heard Lady Élanor, Wil. Leon and Oswald’ll be waiting for us – it’s too dangerous to be that close to Tel Harion without any hounds! And it’s not as if our own back-up is that great!’ he said throwing a malevolent glance over his shoulder.

  As straws went, that was the last for Wil. Without another word, he let go of Mortimer’s waist and slid backwards right over Shadow’s rump. Landing hard, he hobbled around while the feeling returned to his legs and feet – never in the whole of his lifetime would he ever understand why people rode horses for pleasure!

  Mortimer looked down at Wil in complete astonishment.

  ‘What the…! What are you doing, Wil?’

  But before Wil could state his case, Seth reined-in Rhoani.

  ‘Well, I agree with Wil!’

  Almost before Rhoani came to a halt, Seth swung his leg over the horse’s neck. He jumped to the ground and darted behind a bush. Farrow followed.

  ‘Go on girl! Can’t a boy have a little privacy?’ said Seth from the thick greenery.

  Wil saw the smallest smile flash across Mortimer’s face but it evaporated in a heartbeat.

  Defeated for now, Mortimer dismounted and hurriedly untied the saddle-packs. Wil looked around. Rhoani was standing alone.

  ‘Shall I make up a fire then, Mort?’ he asked, putting as much cheer in his voice as he could muster in an effort to distract Mortimer – Gisella and Mia had also disappeared.

  ‘No, we’ll have a quick break and then head out over the Fell. We’ll take it at a gallop to make up the lost time.’

  Starving, Wil was already munching on a soft bread roll from his pack. He choked at Mortimer’s words. The thought of giving his already aching muscles a rest had cheered him immensely; the thought of a bone-jangling gallop across Thesker Fell did not!

  He had also been looking for an opportunity to have a quiet word with Gisella – to try to find out what was going on between her and Mortimer. Despite the prospect of discovering that they really were going out together – or at least, had been – Wil had already decided that the prospect of going over Tel Harion and meeting a Wraithe Wolf with two people who apparently hated each other was far more terrifying. Lady Élanor was right; if they weren’t working together any attempt to rescue Tally would end in failure – if not disaster. Wil had to try to find out what was going on – and do something to try to put it right, and fast.

  ‘Oh, no!’

  The abject horror in Seth’s thick voice dragged Wil fr
om his own worries. The sandwich in Seth’s hand was missing a large bite-sized chunk.

  ‘Martha’s put tomato chutney on my ham – I hate tomato chutney – yech!’

  Seth spat the contents of his mouth into the grass and threw the rest of the sandwich into the trees with a look of disgust. Mia immediately padded off and sniffed at the discarded sandwich. Gisella jumped to her feet.

  ‘Seth, you really should know better than to give them food just after exercise! No Mia!’

  She grabbed at the hound’s collar and bent to retrieve the bread. A bolt thunked into the ground inches away from her outstretched fingers.

  ‘What the…!’

  Mortimer was on his feet, bow in hand – his face was sheet white.

  ‘If I want you to interfere with the training, or welfare, of my Fellhound, Gisella Fairfax – I’ll ask you! OK?’

  Wil and Seth watched, unable to speak – Wil was barely able to breath.

  Gisella unwound her fingers from Mia’s collar, picked up the bread and walked towards Mortimer. She stopped only a few feet from him and held out the half-chewed sandwich. When she spoke, her voice was dangerously calm.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Mortimer. Did you want to eat it?’

  And in a blur of movement she hurled the food into Mortimer’s face.

  ‘Whoa!’ breathed Seth. Wil stood statue-still. One of the bread slices stuck briefly and then slid to the ground leaving a trail of tomato relish down Mortimer’s nose.

  ‘That wasn’t funny!’ said Mortimer in a choked voice and, in a flash, he raised his hand.

  ‘NO!” shouted Wil. He lunged forward. At the same moment Mia leapt between Mortimer and Gisella and let out a low warning growl. Wil took one step back; he could feel the hound’s confusion – the two people she loved most in the world were fighting and she didn’t know which one to protect.

  Mortimer looked as if he’d been slapped. He dropped his hand to his side.

  ‘It’s alright Mia. Down,’ he said with a softness that surprised Wil.

  The hound hesitated, flicking her eyes briefly towards Gisella then back to her master. Gisella kept her own defiant glare fixed firmly on Mortimer. He repeated his order as softly as before.

  ‘Down, Mia.’

  As if it was in his own body, Wil felt the hound’s heart rate ease. She lowered her body to the ground and lay, sphinx-like – but Wil could still sense her confusion.

  Farrow and Phinn stood a little way off, their eyes fixed on their own masters.

  Without a word, Mortimer wiped the tomato relish off his cheek with the back of his shaking hand and turned away. Mia sprang up and trotted after him. Wil followed too leaving Gisella with silent tears streaming down her cheeks. As he headed after Mortimer, Wil heard Seth’s frightened voice behind him.

  ‘Gosh, Gisella, what was that all about?’

  Anger bounced around Wil’s brain. Battling against the almost overwhelming desire to charge over and punch Mortimer, he watched him roughly strapping his pack back onto Shadow’s saddle. For a fleeting moment the surly Fellman reminded Wil of Giles Savidge – the urge to march over and belt him got significantly stronger!

  Wil couldn’t understand what had gone wrong in only a few months. Why were two of the people he considered to be among his best friends at each other’s throats when only a few months before they had been fighting to save each other’s lives?

  Despite the very strong sense of satisfaction he knew he’d feel if he did hit Mortimer, Wil managed to calm his boiling rage. Instead he took a very deep breath and made another attempt to get his friend to talk.

  ‘Is Mia OK there, Mort? She didn’t eat any of the bread, did she?’

  ‘Er… no, she’s fine.’

  Wil could see Mortimer’s hands were still shaking.

  ‘Good job Gisella got to it in time then, wasn’t it? We don’t want a hound with bloat just at the moment, do we?’

  Mortimer stopped yanking on the buckle that he’d been struggling with, but didn’t turn round.

  ‘Yer. It’s a good job she’s so quick – she’s always looked after Mia like that. Though… I know why, now!’

  He said those last words so quietly that Wil thought he’d misheard. Mortimer resumed his struggle with the buckle.

  ‘What do you mean, Mortimer? You know why – why, what?’

  ‘Look Wil, it’s got nothing to do with you! We need to get a move on or we’re not going to be there for Leon and Oswald – they need us!’

  ‘Yes, and so does Tally! But if you and Gisella don’t sort this out, no-one’s gonna to get rescued!’

  Mortimer finally turned. He looked past Wil to where Seth was comforting Gisella and his face filled with loathing.

  ‘She’s trouble, Wil. She’s trying to make Mia obey her instead of me so that she can get me killed on the next Moon Chase!’

  Wil felt as if someone had just clutched hold of his heart and squeezed it with both hands. He could not believe what Mortimer had just said.

  ‘Mortimer, I’m not sure who you’ve been talking to, but they’re messing with your head!’ Wil was whispering now – desperately hoping that neither Gisella, nor Seth would overhear this ridiculous conversation. He could hardly believe he was hearing it himself! ‘You don’t honestly believe that Gisella is planning to get you killed?’

  Mortimer’s jaw twitched.

  ‘Olivia told me that–’

  ‘Olivia! Olivia Drews? Giles Savidge’s girlfriend? Ha!’

  Gisella and Seth looked over. Wil kept his voice low.

  ‘You remember what she said up on the Fell, Mortimer? For goodness sake – she blamed Gisella for what happened to Giles! Don’t you think it might be sensible to be just a little bit sceptical about anything she says against Gisella?’

  It was so obvious that Wil laughed again. He really was struggling to believe he was actually having this conversation – let alone that there was the remotest chance that Mortimer might be taken in by the heartbroken Chaser over one of his best friends!

  ‘It makes sense Wil! You haven’t been here. She’s hardly left my side when ever I’ve been with Mia – some days it’s all I can do to get Mia to listen to me. I tell you – if I’d let it go on any longer… I’d definitely have lost control of that Fellhound and goodness knows what might have happened on the next Moon Chase!’

  With that Mortimer sprang back up into Shadow’s saddle – Wil got the distinct impression that the conversation was over.

  ‘Come on,’ said Mortimer, his voice loud enough for the others to hear. ‘We’ve got to get going. They’ll be waiting by now!’

  Astounded and frustrated, Wil walked away rubbing his hand down his face. ‘This cannot be happening!’ he thought. ‘I bet there’s nothing in any of our bags to deal with this one!”

  Gisella’s gentle voice came from a little way behind him.

  ‘Come on, Wil. We’ve got to go.’

  Once again sitting astride Rhoani, behind Seth, Gisella’s tear-stained face was pale. She mustered a weak smile.

  ‘Come on, Tally needs us,’ she said quietly.

  Mortimer rode up and held out a stiff hand. At that moment Wil would have preferred to do absolutely anything else but he had no choice.

  Wil was barely back in the saddle when Shadow, followed closely by Rhoani, exploded into the bright sunshine – out onto the wide open expanse of Thesker Fell.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Black Rock

  The ride across the Fell was one Wil hoped never to repeat. Every time there seemed the remotest sign that they might slow down, Mortimer kicked Shadow on harder and faster. The freezing wind bit into Wil’s cheeks and his eyes streamed as he clung on for dear life.

  The hounds flanked them, easily matching the horses’ pace as they raced over the open ground, scattering rabbits and wild deer as they bounded over fallen trees and swerved around boulders and bushes. In any other circumstance Wil would have been impressed by Phinn’s speed and agility, but right now
he just wanted it all to end so that he could get off Shadow.

  Even Seth managed to stay in the saddle – although it was touch and go when Rhoani unexpectedly jumped an exposed tree root to get out of a stream!

  Then, just as Wil was seriously contemplating falling off and walking the rest of the way – no matter how far it was – Mortimer finally slowed Shadow to a walk. The sun hadn’t quite managed to break through during the afternoon, but as it drifted into the horizon somewhere in the west it cast a pink blush across the clouds.

  ‘The Black Rock,’ said Mortimer. Up ahead a dark, towering rock stood in perfect silhouette on the hilltop. Just to the left and dwarfed by the huge monolith stood the dark shape of a figure also silhouetted against the evening sky.

  ‘That must be one of them, up there – look!’ said Gisella pointing. As if in answer, the figure waved and then disappeared into the shadows.

  ‘They’ll be holed-up on the other side out of this wind,’ said Mortimer. Wil’s eyes had started to clear now that they had slowed down. All around them the ground was peppered with frost and snow snuggled against the rocks out of reach of whatever sun did manage to shine on the barren Fell. Seth drew Rhoani alongside Shadow.

  ‘Well I hope they’ve got a big fire going,’ he panted. His cheeks were a startling shade of red. ‘I swear to you, Mortimer, once we get to that rock, I am not moving another step until I’ve had something decent to eat!’

  The daylight was almost spent by the time they climbed the gentle slope that swept up to the base of the huge rock.

  ‘You’re late!’ growled a voice and a dark figure with a loaded crossbow stepped out of the gloom. Phinn stopped in his tracks and sniffed the air suspiciously; the other two hounds padded towards the voice, their huge tails sweeping from side to side.

  Wil recognised the stocky shape of the speaker – it was the Bearer from the Moon Chase, Leon Beck. He recalled how Leon, together with Gisella and Giles Savidge had stayed back as Bearers armed with crossbows. Mortimer’s plan had been for Wil to accompany them while they waited for Mortimer, Becky, Emmet and Curtis to ride out onto Tel Harion to draw down a Wraithe Wolf. Unfortunately Giles had decided to change the plan without telling anyone and it had all gone horribly wrong. And then Seth had turned up and things had got a whole lot worse. But, even though everyone knew the truth, Wil knew that Leon had always blamed him and Gisella for what had happened to Giles that night.