‘North. It doesn’t stop again till it gets to Loch Glooming.’
‘When’s the next one?’
‘Monday.’
Neil started to chew his fingernails, not sure what to do.
Jason decided to be helpful. ‘Is that yellow car in the lane yours?’ he asked.
Neil stopped chewing. ‘What if it is?’ he said suspiciously.
Jason shrugged. ‘If it’s as fast as it looks, you might just get to Loch Glooming before the train. The road runs beside the railway.’
Neil grinned. Things were looking up.
‘Nasty brutes, llamas,’ Jason observed, nodding at Neil’s jacket. ‘Give me sheep any day.’
But Neil had already turned and was running towards the station exit. Luke was crouching in front of the dog, trying to persuade her to stand up. She had tired of chasing the train and didn’t want to move again.
‘Her name’s Saffron,’ called Jason. Then, still in helpful mood, he added: ‘She likes crisps.’
Luke felt in the pocket of his parka. There were a few soggy crisps amongst the fluff and scraps of paper at the bottom. He held them out to Saffron. She sniffed, thought about it, then snaffled them up.
‘Good girl,’ cooed Luke. ‘Now follow me. Nice dog. Nice Saffron.’
Maybe it was his pleading tone or maybe it was the damp crisps. Saffron stood up, wagged her tail and followed Luke to the car.
‘Bye, old girl,’ called Jason, folding his money as she trotted away. ‘Be good!’
‘You get in first,’ said Neil hastily to Luke, noting the dog’s dirty paws. ‘It can sit on your lap.’
13
Tony’s Train Ride
Looking back through the window of the slowly moving train, Wills watched the three humans for a moment but then, as the train picked up speed, something else caught his eye. Sitting in a field beside the railway line was a strange blue object with long, blade-like things on top. And beside it were some different humans.
‘Look!’ cried Wills, ‘Isn’t that Tod and Ida – over there by the blue thing?’
The others crowded around the window, but the field was slipping quickly past now and they only got a glimpse.
‘Couldn’t have been, dear,’ said Sal. ‘We’re such a long way North now.’
‘No,’ agreed Wills. ‘No. I suppose not.’
There was an uncomfortable silence. It was the first time any of them had thought about Tod and Ida since the quest began. They suddenly felt guilty about that.
‘They’ll be sooo upset we’ve gone,’ said Jaycey.
The others agreed.
‘We will go back, won’t we?’ said Oxo. ‘I mean, when we’ve done the business with the Baaton, and Aries rules again and everything. We will go back to the farm?’
‘Of course, of course,’ promised Sal soothingly.
‘Good,’ said Oxo. ‘Only I do miss cauliflower night.’
The train moved on, gathering speed as it went, and the sheep turned their thoughts to where to settle for the next part of their journey.
Back in the field beside the railway, Tod and Ida stood next to the helicopter and stretched their legs. Far from being able to see for miles as Ida had hoped, they’d been able to see nothing at all from the air. It had finally got too dangerous to fly in the thick mist and the landing was even more hairy. They’d only just missed the railway as they came down. Lady Babcott got out and stood beside them.
‘Sorry we’ve been forced down,’ she said. ‘Still, this is Eatwell, where your sheep were filmed rescuing the little boy from the railway line. I guess they must be somewhere very close.’
‘Oh, we can’t thank you enough,’ said Gran, who was still bubbling with excitement after her helicopter ride. She tucked her arm into Lady Babcott’s and they all marched off into the mist.
‘Wills . . . Jaycey . . .’ Gran called. ‘Oxo, Links, Sal . . . Where are you?’
Tod followed, peering from side to side, wishing he had a torch to penetrate the mist. One of those head torches would be useful. He thought briefly of the men in Gran’s field and wondered if they’d found their mobile phone yet.
On the train, the Warriors had finally settled into the guard’s van. There was no food here but a bit more space for them to spread out. Sal couldn’t remember what verse of the Songs of the Fleece she had got up to, so was just about to begin from the beginning again when a voice made her jump.
‘Tickets, please!’
The ticket inspector was standing in the doorway, looking very grumpy. Unticketed livestock were a serious offence.
‘No ticket, no ride,’ he said. Then, when no one spoke: ‘All right, we’ll make an unscheduled stop and turf you all off.’
‘No, don’t do that. I’ll pay for them,’ said another voice hastily. ‘They’re with me.’
The sheep blinked. Standing behind the ticket inspector was Tony Catchpole. Wills wondered again if he was seeing things. First Tod and Ida, now Tony. But it definitely was him. Tony paid for the tickets, then bought the entire stock of food and drinks from the snacks trolley and spent the next three hours in the guard’s van with the sheep. He knew each of them by name and chatted about Eppingham and Tod and Ida, just to make them feel comfortable.
But all the time, Tony himself was bursting with excitement. He was trying to spot signs that they’d been modified by aliens. And he was puzzled that he couldn’t find any. Their eyes weren’t glazed, they didn’t seem disturbed. They just munched crisps and chocolate fingers and slurped the tea he poured into the fire bucket for them. Then he looked again at the thing hanging around Jaycey’s neck. He tried to get closer but the sheep wouldn’t let him.
‘Baaton . . . Baaton . . . Baaton . . .’ they bleated.
It didn’t make sense that they would be carrying an ordinary mobile phone. It had to be something else. Then he realised what and became even more excited.
‘It must be a receiver!’ he told the sheep. ‘So the aliens can control you. I bet they’re controlling you right now!’
He knelt down by the window so that he could peer up at the sky directly above, in case the UFO was close overhead. The sheep watched with interest and looked to Wills for an explanation of this odd human behaviour. Wills shrugged.
‘No idea,’ he admitted. ‘I think he’s a bit batty.’
Tony got a crick in the neck but he didn’t see any UFOs. What he did see, though, confused and rather worried him.
There was a main road beside the railway, sharing the same valley floor as it wound northwards. A yellow sports car was scorching its tyres as it sped along the road. Sometimes the train was a little in front, sometimes the car overtook and gained the lead for a few minutes. It appeared to be some kind of race. A very dangerous one for the people in the car, Tony thought. And he tried to remember where he’d seen a car like that before. It was at Eppingham. On the night the sheep had been abducted. The night he’d given Nisha a daffodil. The car was in the lead now and streaking away.
Tony turned his attention back to the sheep.
‘We shall shortly be arriving at Loch Glooming,’ announced the train tannoy. ‘Loch Glooming is the next and final stop. Please leave the train, taking all your personal belongings with you.’
‘And your sheep,’ added the voice of the cross ticket inspector.
Tony scrambled to his feet and fumbled for his mobile phone.
‘Hello, Cousin Angus? It’s Tony again. Did you manage to sort something for me . . .? Yes, I know I only gave you a couple of hours but any old truck will do . . . Great . . . See you in a few minutes.’
He glanced at the sheep and moved away before making his second call, his cheeks turning rather pink as it was answered.
The Warriors had lost interest in Tony now and were gazing through the windows at the scenery. They could see mountains in the near distance. North was close. The land of the Soay sheep.
‘We are coming, great Aries,’ murmured Sal. ‘Your Warriors are coming . . .’
The train drew to a halt.
‘Stay here,’ ordered Tony, and he jumped out on to the platform, closed the train door behind him and hurried off.
‘We’s on a quest, man,’ Links called after him. ‘We don’t stay nowhere, innit.’
‘No way,’ agreed Oxo. He led the way out of the guard’s van into the corridor and butted the door Tony had closed. Nothing happened.
‘Try the button?’ suggested Wills. ‘Up there.’
Oxo stood on his hind legs and butted the ‘Door Open’ button. The door hissed sideways and the Warriors jumped out.
‘Exit to town this way,’ indicated Wills, reading a sign. ‘I expect that’s what we want.’ And he turned and trotted away. Straight into a trap.
14
Saffron Strikes
The yellow car had screeched to a halt outside the station, minutes before the train had arrived. Neil had jumped out of the driver’s seat and Saffron had bounded off Luke’s lap. Now she stood beside Luke, wagging her tail, hoping for more damp crisps.
Neil took control. ‘Heel, dog,’ he ordered. He positioned himself just outside the station exit. Saffron ran to his side, then crouched low, expectant and eager. Perhaps he had crisps too.
Passengers poured out past them.
Wills and the other Warriors didn’t hear Neil’s whistle until they were outside the station. Then it was too late. The dog was in their faces, and at their heels and tails. Everywhere, in fact, that a sheepdog can get, and all at the same time. Saffron was having a sheep moment. These were very rare. About once a year, which was why she had been sold. Train, car and bicycle chasing moments were much more common.
‘That’ll do!’ ordered Neil firmly. ‘Move ’em now. This way!’
He whistled again and before the terrified, bewildered Warriors could gather their wits, they were being herded swiftly away from the station, away from the town. The dog swirled around them with bared teeth, giving Oxo no chance to butt.
Luke was very impressed by Neil’s exhibition of shepherding.
‘I didn’t know you could whistle like that,’ he said admiringly.
Neil smirked and prodded the sheep nearest to him with a stick he’d picked up from the roadside.
‘Easy,’ he said. ‘You just have to show the dog who’s boss.’
‘So, uh, where are we going?’ asked Luke, running to keep up.
‘Away from prying eyes,’ said Neil. He tossed the stick to Luke. ‘Take over. And as soon as we’re out of this grotty town, stop the dog and get the phone. I’ll be right behind.’
Luke fumbled on the ground for the stick he had failed to catch.
‘Er, right,’ he said, looking anxiously at Saffron, who was yapping excitedly and running in ever faster circles around the frightened sheep.
Meanwhile, Tony was feeling very let down. His Cousin Angus had promised a truck – any old truck. Instead, he was waiting behind the station with a tractor. True, it had a trailer. But the trailer was full of manure and straw. There was hardly room in it for five very special sheep.
‘Best I could do, laddie,’ Angus said. ‘Couldn’t get the truck started. Take it or leave it.’
Tony took it. ‘Thanks, Angus. I’ll return it a.s.a.p.’
He shook hands with Angus then ran back to the train.
‘No . . .!’ he wailed when he saw the open door and the empty guard’s van. He ran out of the station again and looked wildly around. In the distance, he could see the sheep being driven away from town by a very excitable dog and a scruffy guy in a dirty parka. Following them slowly along the road was the yellow car he’d seen from the train window. He breathed a sigh of relief. Not aliens this time. Human thieves. He could deal with them. He raced back to the tractor, scrambled into the driver’s seat, revved the engine and headed after the yellow car, his trailer full of manure and straw bouncing along behind.
The sheep were being driven south. Away from the North and the mountains where they would surely find Aries. Their quest had been halted and there was nothing they could do. Wills hung his head in shame.
‘I’m so sorry, guys,’ he said. Then he wept like a lamb. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I should have looked where I was going as we came off the train.’
‘We’ve failed you, great Aries,’ wailed Sal through her own tears. ‘We all should have looked.’
‘Yeah, we’s supposed to be Warriors, innit,’ said Links angrily.
‘Ohmygrass,’ whimpered Jaycey. ‘Does this mean Aries will die and Lambad will eat us for breakfast?’
‘Give over,’ muttered Oxo. ‘We’re not finished yet.’
But then the dog nipped his heels hard and he had to run with the others.
Behind the flock, Neil was having trouble driving so slowly. They were out of the town now and as soon as the tractor behind him turned off, he would yell at Luke to stop. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Then his phone rang. He snatched it up.
It was his tracker mate again and Neil was less than polite.
‘Thanks a bunch!’ he snarled ungratefully into his mobile.’ I know it’s in Loch Glooming. I can see it!’
This wasn’t precisely true because the sheep had just rounded a bend in the road in front of him. Anxious not to lose sight of them, Neil accelerated as he took the bend. He misjudged it and went up the verge and down again, his foot still on the accelerator.
‘Now look what you’ve made me do!’ he screamed into the phone before tossing it aside and grabbing the steering wheel with both hands. But he was too late. The car had slewed around and was careering sideways into the flock.
By the time it had come to a juddering halt and Luke and Saffron had got out of the ditch, the sheep had disappeared.
15
Deep in the Doody
Tony Catchpole was not a fool. He had followed the yellow car and seen it plough into the flock. From his seat, high in the tractor cab, he had also seen the sheep leaping through the scrubby line of trees beside the road. And he had quickly turned his tractor down the slope after them.
As the sheep gathered together at the bottom of the slope, they could hear the barking of the dog and the angry shouts of the two men on the road above.
‘Ohmygrass, ohmygrass . . . What do we do now?’ whimpered Jaycey.
‘Hope the dog keeps barking,’ said Wills. ‘It’ll stop when it’s picked up our scent again.’
They heard a grinding, jolting noise and stumbled around to see a tractor heading towards them through the dense bracken. With Tony Catchpole at the wheel. The tractor pulled up, Tony leapt out, ran to the end of the trailer and began letting the tailboard down.
‘Get in . . .! Get in . . .!’ he whispered.
He gestured vigorously at them. The Warriors looked at each other. Was this some kind of trick? To do with UFOs, whatever they were? Suddenly the dog stopped barking. The sheep leapt and scrabbled rapidly up into the trailer. As they did so, Tony grabbed up a pitchfork and began dragging a covering of straw and manure over them.
‘Keep still and keep quiet,’ he begged as he pitched smelly load after smelly load over their heads. When they were completely hidden, he lifted the tailboard and shoved the rusty bolts into place. Then he ran back to the tractor, climbed in and started up again. He drove back up through the bracken, over the ditch and out on to the stony road. Just in front of the yellow sports car.
Neil and Luke turned and stared.
‘Hey!’ shouted Neil. ‘Hey!’ And he ran after the tractor.
He overtook it and waved at Tony to halt. Tony pulled up but didn’t turn off the engine.
‘Did you see any sheep down there?’ yelled Neil, above the noise.
‘Och, no,’ yelled back Tony, risking a Scottish accent.
He gave a little wave and drove off at a scorching five miles an hour. But before they were out of sight, the trailer hit a bump and as it did so, the ends of two delicate horns poked up through the manure. Neil blinked.
‘We’ve been had!’ he snarled.
He raced back to the sports car. ‘Well, come on!’ he shouted at Luke. ‘He’s got our sheep!’
Luke bundled into the car after him. Saffron bounded in too and sat on Luke’s lap.
In the tractor’s wing mirror, Tony saw the yellow car suddenly take off after him. He didn’t know who the men were, or why they wanted Ida White’s sheep, and he didn’t really care. He found a hammer under his seat.
‘Get ready to rock ‘n’ roll!’ he shouted, though the sheep couldn’t hear him. Then he whacked the throttle with the hammer. The tractor positively leapt forward. Ten miles an hour, at least. Deep in the manure and straw, Links was rapping.
‘Don’t mess with the Posse
Cos we’s real moody,
Even though it’s us who’s
Now in the doody . . .’
Despite the twisty-turniness of the road, which had become no more than a track wending its way between the pine trees, the sports car quickly caught up with the tractor. There was no room to overtake but Neil drove close behind, blaring his horn and yelling out of his window.
‘Hold on to your fleeces!’ yelled Tony, and he swung the tractor violently right, on to an even narrower and bumpier track through the trees, with pot holes the size of moon craters.
‘Ohmygrass, ohmyteeth . . .!’Jaycey’s jaws snapped and shook. Her third and fourth stomachs collided.
The sports car didn’t like the pot holes either. Neil was forced to slow down and soon the tractor disappeared round a bend.
Once out of sight, Tony jumped down from his tractor cab and joined the sheep in the trailer.
‘Get up to the tractor end and hang on tight!’ he shouted excitedly, forgetting that sheep don’t have much to hang on with. He shooed them right away from the tailboard, then jumped to the ground again and stood watching the bend in the road. The Warriors, crammed beyond the mountain of manure and straw, saw the car appear round the bend. They saw Tony unbolt the tailboard of the trailer and heard a clang as it dropped down. They saw Tony run back to the cab, and heard a dong as he hit something with his hammer. Then they heard a hissing whine and the floor beneath them began to tilt. On Angus Catchpole’s ancient tractor, the only thing that worked well was the hydraulic system.
The Quest of the Warrior Sheep Page 7