Charlotte had heard enough. “What are you going on about? Who are these Entertainers, a bunch of circus dwarves or something? How are they going to help me?”
The men stared at her in silence, each wearing anxious expressions. Even Swallow looked concerned.
Charlotte crossed her arms. “Did you find out where we can find Goffer or not, ‘cos if you didn’t, then how am I going to get home?” She didn’t want to appear rude, but the need to get back home overrode everything at that moment.
“I have a plan.” Middleton grinned with confidence. “Goffer was last seen north of the border, and that is also the way the Entertainers were heading. I think we should go on a journey to catch up with them. They will know where Goffer is, I am sure of it.”
Swallow remained silent up to this point, but the look on her face told Charlotte she wasn’t happy by the suggestion. She shifted in her seat. “Who is to go on this journey?” Her jaw tightened.
Middleton’s expression never faltered. “I will take Charlotte and Elder with me.” He nodded. “We will need to pack as many supplies as we can carry. I think it would be a good idea to leave as soon as possible.”
Charlotte jumped to her feet. “Yeah, let’s do it! I have to get home, and the sooner the better.” The butterflies returned with the thought of a real life adventure ahead of her.
Swallow rose from her chair, her gaze fixed firmly on her husband. “Come on, Charlotte. You can help me pack some suitable clothing while those two sort out the rest.” She plastered on a thin smile. “It is a good job I did plenty of baking this morning. I must be a mind reader.” She led Charlotte to the bedrooms to gather some belongings.
Charlotte followed obediently, holding her hand. “I hope you’ve done plenty of those cakes we had last night. They were well nice.”
* * * *
Elderfield waited for Charlotte to leave the room before speaking further. He turned towards his father. “I am worried. You talk of Charlotte being in danger, and now the sudden appearance of an assassin—”
Middleton raised his hand to stop him. “This mystery stranger could be anyone. I would not go jumping to conclusions just yet.” He paused for a moment, lost in thought. “I must admit though, it does seem more than a coincidence this girl should appear from out of nowhere, not long after a stranger has been seen hanging around in the same area.” He stood away from the table and walked over to the window. His gaze scanned the horizon. “I will go and prepare the wagon. I think it would be wise to take Swift, just in case we need to ride ahead for any reason.” He turned to face his son. “Gather enough supplies to last at least one week, and bring extra weapons too. Make sure you hide them from the child. It will be hard enough for her as it is.”
He walked back to Elder and placed a callused hand on his shoulder. “Do not look so worried. It could not be Dagan out there in the forest. A two-hundred-year-old druid!” He huffed. “It may not even be a druid. Most likely, it is a thief left behind by the Entertainers. They do have a lot of strange folk travelling with them.”
Elder nodded, but his apprehension remained. “I will start to get things ready. When do you want to leave?”
“By nightfall.”
Elder was horrified. Why were they leaving tonight? Why so soon? He refrained from asking his father for his reasoning as visions of ruthless, cold-blooded druid assassins threatened to rise up from the darkest corners of his mind. He opened the food store and began rummaging through the racks in an attempt to hide his reaction to the news.
His father’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “If we can slip out unseen, that will give us an advantage. The wagon will make this harder, but will make travelling easier for the child.”
Elder heard the farmhouse door open, then close, and his father’s footsteps faded into the distance. He stopped sorting through the shelves and drew a deep breath. “I have to be strong,” he murmured.
* * * *
They spent the rest of the afternoon making sure they had everything they needed for the journey. Charlotte watched quietly shrouded in her own thoughts as Elder double-checked the wagon and their supplies. They shared a last meal together and spent a few hours beside the fire telling embarrassing stories about the antics of Elderfield when he was young, much to Charlotte’s amusement. Time passed quickly, and soon afternoon turned into evening. She couldn’t remember spending an entire day with just conversation and no television, but she really enjoyed the experience.
Middleton pushed himself away from the table, and she knew it was time to leave. She snuck a quick glance at Swallow whose thin smile was a poor disguise against the sorrow reflected in her eyes. Charlotte’s heart ached at the thought of leaving her behind.
“Time is getting on,” Middleton said, walking up to Swallow and putting his arms around her. He kissed her on the cheek. “I will see you in a few days, maybe.”
She gave him a hug and stared into his eyes. “Have a safe journey, my love.” She turned to Elder and Charlotte and hugged them, one in each arm. “All of you have a safe journey.”
The happy mood turned sombre in an instant. They put on their cloaks and made their way to the wagon outside. Swallow stood in the doorway, watching them walk away. Charlotte couldn’t leave just yet. She stopped and ran back, throwing her arms around the woman’s thick waist. “Thank you for everything,” she mumbled against Swallow’s apron, burying her head and squeezing tight.
Elder’s mum leaned down and lifted her chin until their noses almost touched. “Bless you, sweet child.” She stroked Charlotte’s hair and kissed her on the forehead. “I am missing you already.”
Choking back a sob, Charlotte ran back to the wagon. She climbed inside and sat at the front with her back against the driver’s seat. Elder had made the effort to make things more comfortable by stuffing several old sacks together to make two makeshift beds. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, sniffing once or twice and wiping her face on her arm. Elder crouched at the back to keep watch from the rear.
They set off and rumbled over the uneven ground. Charlotte could see Swallow‘s silhouette through a gap in the back of the canopy. She watched until the figure disappeared from sight before covering her head with one of the old sacks, overwhelmed at the thought of never seeing her again.
* * * *
As the wagon wove its way towards Rivertown, Dagan’s tall, cloaked figure stood at the top of the field, just on the edge of the shadows. From where he stood, he saw the elven female wave and close the door behind her. Alone. When the wagon disappeared from view, he crept down the hill towards the farm, his huge form blending as one with the dark night.
Chapter Five
The Journey
Elderfield sat next to his father, their cloaks pulled tight around them to keep out the stinging bite of the night air. The summer season was beginning to turn to autumn. A new moon shone in a crystal clear sky, making travelling faster, but the bitter cold was an unfortunate consequence.
Middleton steered the wagon around the outskirts of Rivertown, heading towards the northern border. They rode without speaking for many hours, wrapped in their individual thoughts.
Elder watched his father grip the reins, staring at the dark road ahead. Only his eyes showed through a small slit in the hood of his cloak. “Where are we heading, Father?”
“To a place called Thistlemoor.”
“Is that where we will make camp?”
“We only have a short time before sunrise. I know of a good place to set up less than two days ride from the town.” He paused. “We will stop there.”
Neither spoke for the next few miles. The only sign of life was the steam from their breath, rising like silver clouds in the moonlight.
Middleton broke the silence first. “Maybe you should go back and get some sleep while you still have the chance. How is Charlotte?”
Elder lifted the flap on the canopy and peered inside. She lay crumpled in the same position as when they left. “She is sti
ll sleeping.”
His father made no reply.
Elder made his way to the back of the wagon, stepping carefully over the jumble of packing crates and weaving with the movement of the cart. He slumped onto the pile of earthy sacks and took a few moments to check through the rear canopy for any pursuers. The road looked dark and desolate, an unfamiliar terrain that rolled away into an endless pool of shadows. Nothing stirred.
He tried to rest, but each time his mind relaxed, he dreamed of a dark horseman following in the gloom. The sky began to lighten before true sleep took hold.
“Elder. Elder.”
He woke with a start and jumped to his feet, falling with a groan over the boxes of supplies.
“Shh! Keep the noise down,” Middleton said with a quiet chuckle.
Elder picked himself up and climbed out of the wagon.
His father stretched with a huge sigh. “Well, it has been a long night.” He reached into the wagon and retrieved a small, iron cooking-pot and dropped it into Elder’s hands. “I am going to get some sleep. I will leave you in charge to set up camp and cook us all a hearty breakfast.” He climbed into the wagon and made himself comfortable. Poking his head back out through the canopy, he gave a grin. “Oh, and try to do it without making enough noise to wake the dead, if you please.”
His father popped back out of sight before he could respond. Elder rubbed the sleep from his eyes and inspected the surrounding area, gripping the cold pot tight in his hands. They had stopped by a small wooded area, protected on three sides by rocky cliffs. The distance from the road made it an ideal place for them to rest. He unhitched the horses and led them to a small stream that trickled between the rocks. They grazed on the lush grasses growing alongside the bank.
He went in search of dry tinder, no easy task with the morning dew laying a carpet of damp air and covering everything with fine droplets of water. He managed to find enough dry pieces to build a small fire, and set about retrieving the supplies needed from the wagon to cook a simple breakfast. Once the cooking pot was securely tied above the flames on a tripod bound together with reeds, he relaxed and leaned against a rock, scanning the secluded area.
The sun climbed higher in the sky and shadows shortened, dispersing the early morning mist. Birds sang a merry tune and the cooking pot bubbled in a slow rhythm. The warmth of the day sent Elder’s mind back towards his dreams. With a contented smile, he drifted from reality for an unknown amount of time. His instincts brought him awake again at the sound of something stirring.
* * * *
Charlotte poked her head out through the wagon canopy, shielding her eyes and wrinkling her nose from the contrast in light. She spotted Elder sitting beside the campfire. With slow, deliberate steps, she climbed over Middleton, giggling under her breath at his loud snoring. She trudged to where Elder sat and yawned. “Morning.” She smiled, taking a good look around to see where they were. “Are we there yet?”
“No, but we have come a long way. We have been travelling all night.” He pointed to the makeshift tripod. “Are you hungry? I made breakfast. I hope you like oats with honey.”
She glanced into the pot bubbling over the fire. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before.” She sniffed the rising steam. “It smells alright, though. I’m starving, I’ll eat anything at the moment.”
He served them both a generous helping of food and they sat eating, occasionally glancing at each other. Neither of them spoke.
Charlotte finished two bowls before Elder had emptied his first. “That was lovely. I’ll have to get my mum to make me some of that.”
“Would you like me to serve you another bucketful?” He grinned, patting his tummy.
She narrowed her eyes and pretended to look annoyed.
“Come on. We need to find some more firewood.” He rose to his feet and beckoned her to follow. “I do not think my father will be pleased with a cold breakfast after such a bitter night.”
They walked passed the grazing horses and stepped over the stream, searching amongst the trees that ran parallel to the cliffs surrounding them. Once satisfied they had gathered enough dry wood, they headed back to the camp, each carrying an armful of branches through the thick foliage. Elderfield came to a sudden stop, catching Charlotte off guard. She walked right into him, almost dropping her load. “What you doing?”
He turned to face her with his finger to his lips. “Shh. Do not make a sound.”
She grinned, thinking they were about to play a trick on Middleton. Her smile faded when she saw his serious expression.
He pushed her down by the shoulder until they crouched in the undergrowth. “Stay here and do not show yourself until I call you. Do you understand?”
She responded with a simple nod. “What’s the matter, Elderfield?” she whispered.
Without answering, he disappeared into the trees, moving with the grace of a stalking animal.
She remained hidden, not daring to breathe. Her fear grew even more as she began to imagine what kind of creepy-crawlies lurked in the blanket of ivy that covered the ground. “Come on, Elderfield. I’m not staying down here all day,” she mumbled under her breath. She badly needed to scratch. The seconds turned into long minutes, but still no call came. When she could not bear it any longer, she lifted her head and peered over the top of the bushes.
Beside the wagon stood what Charlotte first thought was a child, until he turned to reveal a black beard and long hair tied in a ponytail. He was trying to peer into the wagon, but being so short, he had to stand on the spokes of the wheel to reach. He must be one of those dwarves from the circus, she guessed.
Elderfield appeared on the opposite side of the cart.
Charlotte held her breath to stop herself from calling out to him.
He crept towards the intruder, crouching low to watch his movements from underneath the wagon. He paused for a moment before throwing a stone into the bushes. As the dwarf turned to look, Elder rushed towards him, drawing his sword in one swift motion. She gasped as he hurled the small figure face down in the dirt, holding him to the ground with his knee pinned in the arch of his back. “Speak quickly or die!”
“Please do not kill me. I mean you no harm! I was just inquisitive. I beg of you, sir.”
“You can come out now, Charlotte!” Elder’s voice echoed around the clearing.
She hesitated, biting her finger, too scared to venture any closer. With a quiet groan, she picked up the bundle of sticks and stumbled from the trees, her eyes firmly fixed on the terrifying scene. She stopped close to the fire, well away from the wagon.
Middleton lifted the canvas canopy and blinked in bewilderment. He glanced at Elderfield holding the struggling dwarf, then turned his gaze to Charlotte. Climbing out, he walked over to where she stood and put a protective arm around her.
She gripped his tunic until her knuckles turned white.
“Are you all right, Charlotte?” he asked.
She nodded and pointed. “He was trying to get in the wagon.”
“It looks as though we have caught ourselves a tasty dwarf. We have supper organised for tonight.” He grinned.
With this comment, the dwarf started squirming and pleading again. “Please, kind sir! I would make a horrible meal. I am all gristle, probably poisonous as well. I would be of far more value to you alive.”
Elderfield looked as amused at the situation as his father. “It sounds like our friend wants to make a deal, but I am still rather hungry after such a meagre breakfast.”
Charlotte relaxed, but dared not laugh. She stared at the funny little man squirming on the ground. He was no bigger than her, but his face looked old and wrinkled. His shabby leather waistcoat and matching boots gave him the appearance of a tramp.
“I think you can let him go now, Elder,” Middleton said. “Blaine is a thief, not a murderer. We will sleep safe in our beds tonight, assuming they are still there, that is.”
Elder put away his sword and stared at his father, gaping. “I ta
ke it you know this fellow?”
Blaine jumped to his feet and spun around to glare at Middleton. “I do not believe my own eyes. If I had known it was you, snoring so soundly, I would have left you in peace.” A sly grin crept across his face.
“And I would have woken to an empty wagon, no doubt,” Middleton replied, raising one eyebrow.
The dwarf gave a bilious laugh. He brushed himself down, keeping one eye on the small party. “I would not steal from you, kind sir. You must be mistaking me for someone else.” He thumped his chest with a clenched fist. “I am an Entertainer, not a thief.” He stood upright and crossed his arms. “Now, what could possibly bring you farmers to this gloomy part of the land, I wonder?” His brows furrowed. “It must be important to drag you away from that beautiful wife of yours.”
Middleton held his stare, showing no emotion. “Come and join us. You are welcome to share our meal.” He gave Charlotte a wink and guided her to where the cooking pot still bubbled over the dying flames. He relieved her of the bundle of sticks and threw some more on the fire.
They crowded around in a circle while Middleton dished up the last of the oats. Charlotte couldn’t resist having another bowl, and sat in silence close to Elderfield, studying the stranger. He looked like a right weirdo. He gives me the creeps. She noticed how similar he looked to the wooden figures she had seen in Goffer’s shop, with his gnarled features and a nose that appeared too big for his face. She couldn’t help but stare as he shovelled down his food and wiped his mouth with the end of his long beard.
“If I were you, I would be heading in the opposite direction, back to your farm,” he warned around a mouthful of food. “Have you not heard the stories? This is hardly a good place to bring a child.” He stared hard at Charlotte.
She knew she was blushing and looked away with a shudder.
Middleton considered the dwarf with a calm expression. “What stories do you speak of? I have heard many tales on many different subjects.”
“The ones that tell of armies invading from the east. They say they are being commanded by Siren himself.”
Charlotte watched Middleton’s eyes widen. She tugged at Elder’s sleeve. “Who’s Siren?”
Truth Teller Page 5