As Charlotte crashed through the door, her mum put her finger to her mouth, gesturing for them to be quiet. “Come on now. Keep the noise down. It’s late and other people are trying to sleep.”
“So?” Charlotte remarked in a rather rude manner. She didn’t intend it to sound that way and glanced at her dad to judge his reaction.
“Now, now,” he objected. “That’s enough. Go and get yourselves ready for bed. We have to be up early tomorrow.”
The prospect of going home after such a brilliant holiday made her sad. She trudged to her room to get changed.
“I’ve left you some clean ‘jamas on your beds,” her mum called after them.
She slipped into her favourite, pink pyjamas and reappeared from her bedroom to sit at the rickety table.
Mum presented her with a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of toast. “Come on then, tell me what you’ve all been up to tonight.”
Charlotte competed with her sister to tell her version of events, explaining every detail about their evening, while her mum sat listening to their funny stories.
“Sounds like you had a smashing time. I wish I’d come with you now.” She rose to give them both a kiss on their foreheads. “Off you go then, and I’ll see you both in the morning.” She pointed to their bedrooms.
“Night, Mum! Night, Dad!” they both said in unison.
Charlotte followed her sister into her room and gave her a kiss goodnight.
“Night, Charlotte.” Beth pulled the covers up to her chin. “Sorry about nearly breaking your snow thingy.”
Charlotte knew she couldn’t stay mad at her little sister. “That’s okay. No harm done.” She gave a little wave as she turned on Beth’s night-light and closed the door behind her.
She sat in her room for a while, listening to the muffled sounds of her mum and dad talking at the other end of the van. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the sound of their voices and the gentle rock of the caravan as they walked around brought her comfort. She turned on her own night-light and laid down with her teddy. The whole holiday had been a real adventure and quite exhausting. She soon drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Gusts of wind shook the caravan, waking Charlotte in the early hours. She groaned at an uncomfortable lump under her pillow and tried to flatten it with her hand. “What is that?” She suddenly remembered the hidden dome, and climbed out of bed with a wide yawn. Rubbing her eye with one hand, she fumbled for the delicate object with the other, and held it to her face to examine it in more detail. Its brightness filled the room with a ghostly, green glow. The longer she stared, the brighter it became, filling every corner of her mind.
The room began to spin with the momentum of the rotating globe inside. She wavered, but couldn’t draw her gaze from the hypnotic movement. Her stomach lurched with a sensation of falling. She instinctively flung out her arms to steady herself, dropping the crystal ornament. The brilliant light vanished, plunging her into darkness.
She stood, her hands outstretched. A sudden blast of cold air caught her breath. She gasped.
Something touched the back of her leg, making her jump. She reached down and found a branch draped in wet leaves brushing against her calf. Tugging at it, she discovered it was still attached to a bush. A wave of horror washed over her. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, Charlotte found herself surrounded by bushes.
She froze, panting for breath against her pounding heart. When she turned slowly around, a branch snapped beneath her. She let out a yelp and grabbed her throbbing foot. What was happening? All around her, the silhouettes of tall trees swayed against the night sky.
“Mum?” She wrapped her arms around her body to ward off the cold. “Dad?”
Somewhere in the distance, a rumble sounded. In the same direction came the thrashing of undergrowth. It grew louder by the second. Something was coming towards her fast. Charlotte cowered, clenching her fists to her mouth.
The bushes burst open. A large, black beast charged straight towards her. She threw up her arms to protect her face. At the last minute, the creature reared upon its hind legs and let out a tremendous roar. It dropped back to the ground and charged off in another direction, leaving a large bundle lying a few yards in front of her.
She stood, rooted to the spot. Trembling, she stared at the object left behind. Her head spun and tears stung her eyes. She sensed she was about to pass out at any moment.
“Mum, where are you?” she uttered under her breath.
Chapter Two
First Encounters
Leaves rustled as the wind battered the uppermost canopy of the surrounding trees. Below, everything remained quiet and still.
Charlotte stood motionless, not knowing what to do. The bundle on the ground made a strange groaning sound and started to move. Trembling from fear and cold, her breath came in short gasps, and she fought nauseous waves that racked her stomach.
Without warning, the object rolled from side to side and suddenly sprang to life. A young man jumped to his feet and drew a short sword from beneath his cloak. She watched him spin around in all directions, searching the area. He froze when he spotted her, scrutinising her face and flowery pink pyjamas.
“Well, this is a sight I was not expecting to see on this cold night,” he declared, putting away his sword and turning to face her. “That is the first time I have been successfully ambushed by a child.” His youthful face lightened with a wide smile.
Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her legs gave way. She fell to her hands and knees. Struggling to lift her head, she saw the outline of the man rushing towards her before darkness descended from all around.
“Mum? Is that you?” Charlotte sensed the warmth of someone close to her. She opened her eyes and blinked to focus her blurry vision. She saw the young man gazing down just inches from her face, his slim features creased with worry.
“Please, do not be afraid. I mean you no harm,” he said, wide-eyed. “I did not intend to frighten you.”
He spoke in an accent Charlotte had never heard before. She stared at him in a moment’s silence, trying to work out what just happened, noticing beneath his flock of auburn hair he had strange, pointy ears and a nose to match. She judged his age at about seventeen, and began to wonder what this oddball was doing waving a sword around in the middle of the woods. She tried to back away from him, but found herself wrapped in an earthy smelling cloak that she assumed was his.
A small fire crackled in the clearing where the two of them sat against a moss-covered fallen tree gazing at each other with equally bemused expressions.
Somehow, she found the courage to speak. “I thought I was dreaming. Where am I?”
He paused and scratched his head. “We are in Chapel Forest, south of Rivertown, of course.”
She gazed about. Her small fingers gripped the cloak tighter under her chin. “Where? This can’t be happening.”
“I take it you are not from around these parts. Where have you come from?” he asked, clutching his knees to his chest.
She noticed him staring at her bare feet with a curious expression. All of a sudden, she remembered the terrifying creature. “The beast!” she cried out. The panic in her voice caused him to topple backward. “There’s a monster out there!” She pointed into the darkness with a wavering finger, then snapped it back inside the cloak as though scared of losing it.
He sprang to his feet, drawing his sword again. “Beast! Monster! Where?” His gaze scanned in all directions. “Do not worry, I will see you come to no harm.”
Despite her fears, she was impressed with his bravery, but his long leather boots and baggy cotton tunic made him look like a character straight out of a pantomime. “Didn’t you see that big, black thing that came out of the bushes?”
He slipped his sword back into its scabbard and faced her, his jaw gaping. He grinned. His grin turned into a giggle. He sat back down and held his composure for about two seconds before bursting into fits of laughter.
He held his stomach with one hand and patted the ground with the other.
Charlotte sat staring, wondering what he found so amusing. “What are you laughing at?” she asked, setting him off all over again. She cocked her head and watched him, glad of a little cheerfulness in such a grim situation.
“I am sorry.” He pointlessly held a hand over his mouth to hide his amusement. “I did not mean to mock you, but that was no monster.” He jumped to his feet and let out two short whistles. After a brief moment, the bushes rustled.
Charlotte cowered closer to the fire, wishing she hadn’t said anything at all. The branches parted and out stepped a sleek, black stallion. It walked straight to its owner and nuzzled his shoulder. He stroked the horse’s nose and whispered something she couldn’t quite hear.
“This is Swift,” he announced, puffing out his chest. “My name is Elderfield by the way.” He offered a big, friendly smile.
Charlotte knew her face had started to blush the second she realised how stupid she must have sounded claiming his horse was a monster. She rose and lifted her hand to stroke the magnificent animal, but hesitated for fear of being bitten. “Your name is Elderfield? That’s a funny name.”
“Well, not really,” he said with a chuckle. “I am the eldest child in my family, and my father is a farmer. Most people just call me Elder. What is your name?”
She gave a shy smile. “I’m Charlotte.” She reached out to shake his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
He stared at it with a confused look, but said nothing.
She shrugged, withdrew her hand, and turned away from him.
“Charlotte … I like that. I have never heard of such a name before. What does it mean?”
“I don’t know!” She fingered her bottom lip. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a name.” An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, only broken by the swaying of the trees and the occasional snap from the fire.
Elderfield walked across the clearing and extinguished the fire with a few handfuls of dirt. The woods became suddenly darker and colder.
He mounted his horse. “Are you fit enough to travel? My home is not far from here. It is more welcoming than staying in the forest for the night.”
“I’m not going anywhere on that thing.” She backed away, stepping on a sharp stick. She cried out in pain. Limping around in a circle, she tried to avoid treading on anything else, but found it impossible. Her bare toes ached from the cold, damp ground.
Elderfield watched her for a moment before speaking again. “You may borrow my cloak if you insist on staying.”
“But I have to go home. How am I going to get there?” A sudden wave of tears leaked from her eyes.
He rubbed his head. “I do not know what to suggest. How did you come to be here in the first place?”
“I don’t know! One minute I was in my caravan, and the next thing I was here.” She stared up at him as though expecting an immediate explanation.
“Ah, so you came here with the Entertainers in a caravan.” He nodded as if everything made perfect sense. “I did not realise they had come to Rivertown so early in the year.”
“Who are the Entertainers?” Her face contorted into a frown.
“Why, the Entertainers ... The folk who travel around in caravans, entertaining people, of course. You must have seen them before?”
“I’m not part of some travelling circus, if that’s what you mean.” She crossed her arms. “I came here on my own.”
He paused. “Then where did you leave your caravan?”
Charlotte shook her head, not bothering to reply. She shivered as the wind howled through the trees. A lump formed in her throat. What choice did she have? She was freezing cold and frightened of the dark. If she didn’t go with this friendly, but weird-looking stranger, she would be left alone in the middle of some forest. The thought of climbing onto a huge horse and riding off to heaven knows where didn’t appeal to her either. She just wanted to go home.
Elderfield’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “If you come back with me, I could ask my father to help. He knows a lot more than I do.”
She studied the worry etched in his face. He had kind eyes and his concern appeared genuine. “I’m not staying here on my own, that’s for sure.”
His face broke into a satisfied grin. “That settles it, then.” He offered her his hand.
She paused for a moment, gathering the courage to accept. Before she had time to think, he leaned down and grabbed her forearm, whisking her off her feet and placing her in the front of the saddle. With a flick of the reins, the horse broke into a gallop and headed through a blanket of leaves. Terror threatened to overwhelm her as the foliage rushed past in a blur. Even Elderfield’s tight grip around her waist brought her little comfort.
She clung to the horse’s mane and squeezed her eyes closed. Her stomach lurched and regrets flooded into her mind. He’s going to kill us. They cleared the forest and she caught her first glimpse of the surrounding countryside through slits in her eyelids. They rode through an open field of corn where only a single group of sturdy oaks protruded from the crops. In the distance, a river shimmered with the reflection of the moon. The wind blasted her face with the smell of fresh, summer air.
To her, the journey took forever. She couldn’t wait to reach their final destination, despite her reservations of what to expect when they arrived. She wanted to get back on her own two feet. They rode without speaking until Swift came to an abrupt halt outside the front door of what Charlotte assumed was Elderfield’s family farm.
“Our journey is over,” he said and dismounted, tying the horse’s rein to a slatted wooden fence.
She glanced around to find herself outside a large farmhouse. A warm, inviting glow streamed through the mottled windows. Built with uneven wooden planks, the cottage looked homely with a stone chimneystack rising through a red tiled roof. A rickety porch surrounded the entrance, leading to a small, barn-style front door, reminding her of a ranch from a western movie.
“Are you coming inside?” Elder asked, offering her a hand to help her down. “Come on. No need to be nervous. We are all quite friendly around here.” He gave a reassuring smile.
She slid ungracefully from the saddle and they walked towards the building together. Charlotte’s fears returned. Her legs trembled as she climbed the creaky porch steps. What was she thinking, coming here on her own?
Reaching the front door, Elder stopped and took her by both hands. “Are you all right?” He gave them a gentle squeeze.
“Yeah, I’m alright.” The look on his face told her he wasn’t convinced.
He opened the door and guided her inside.
They entered a large room that flickered with the light of many candles. Directly in the centre stood a solid wooden table draped in white linen. Around it sat four sturdy chairs, two on each side. Charlotte noticed the crouched figure of a man beside a large, open fireplace against the far wall. He stabbed at the flames with a brass poker.
“You are home late tonight, Elder,” he said without turning.
“Father, I have brought a visitor home with me,” he replied. “I would like you to meet Charlotte. Charlotte, this is my father, Middleton.”
She gave a nervous wave when he stood upright to face them. “Hello.” Her voice sounded like a hushed squeak, and she buried her face into Elderfield’s cloak.
He stared, wide-eyed. “Where are my manners?” he said in an overpowering voice. “Come and warm yourself beside the fire. Please, make yourself at home.” He gestured for her to join him.
She shuffled over, dragging the heavy cloak across the rough floorboards, and sat in a comfortable, padded chair beside the hearth. Seeing Middleton’s face, she noticed straight away he bore a remarkable resemblance to Elderfield, displaying the same slim features and pointy ears. Unlike Elder’s bright green eyes, his were deep-set and dark with thick black brows.
“Swallow, my dear,” Middleton yelled at the top of his voice. “Could you fetc
h us some supper? Elder is home, and he has brought a visitor.” He seated himself in a similar chair opposite, and signalled for Elder to join them. He studied her in silence.
She tried her best not to stare at his ears, feeling awkward, and desperately waiting for someone to speak.
“So, Elder, how did you come to find such a pretty young lady wandering around this late at night?”
Charlotte’s cheeks burned, and she sank deeper into the chair.
Before Elder could reply, a door beside them flew open and in strolled a stout, jolly-looking lady, wearing a bright multi-coloured pinafore over her dress. She gazed at Charlotte sitting in front of the fire and her eyes rounded. She walked over with a graceful sweep to where Charlotte sat, and knelt down, taking her hands. “Who do we have here, then?” She spoke with a soft voice.
Charlotte stared at her long, flowing red hair, and recognised the same bright green eyes as Elderfield’s. “I’m Charlotte,” she said in a trembling voice. She could feel herself welling with tears and bit her lip in an attempt to fight them back.
The woman sat next to her in the chair and put her arm around her, in the same way her mum would when she was upset.
Overwhelmed by the situation, Charlotte’s emotions became too much to control and she burst into a flood of tears.
“Ah, my poor child!” Swallow squeezed her tight. “Come with me and we will see if we can make you more comfortable.” She grabbed Charlotte by the hand and pulled her out of the room, passing through a small corridor and into a cosy little bedroom. A grand, dark-wood bed dominated the room.
Charlotte followed the plump woman and sat beside her on the patchwork bed throw. She buried her head into Swallow’s warm embrace and sobbed uncontrollably.
“Let it all out. You will feel a whole lot better.” Swallow gently rocked her as she spoke, cupping her head in one hand. She waited until Charlotte calmed down and dried her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “You will catch a fever wearing those damp clothes on such a cold night.” She inspected her up and down with a frown. “I am sure I can find you something drier and more comfortable.”
Charlotte watched her rummage through an old battered chest at the end of the double bed. She seemed like a nice lady.
Truth Teller Page 2