The Oak Lord

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The Oak Lord Page 6

by Catherine Cooper


  ‘Whatever he has in mind won’t be for the benefit of anyone other than himself.’

  Jack didn’t answer and Alindyne remained silent. Jack wondered if Alindyne could see him. A sudden booming laugh erupted in Jack’s head.

  ‘No, I can’t see you, but I can read your thoughts and the troubles within your heart. Tell me everything, from the very beginning. There is no need to speak, just reach out to me with your heart and mind. I will both hear and feel your words.’

  ‘It will take too long.’

  ‘Time is one thing I have plenty of, but you have the power to transfer the knowledge to me.’

  Jack didn’t understand, but no sooner had he wondered what Alindyne meant, than his ancestor spoke again.

  ‘Touch the dome of metal in the centre of my shield. It’s a boss with special powers, for it was forged in Annwn. On the eve of your coronation you would have been directed to this very place and told to touch the dome. It opens a direct line of communication between us. Upon feeling your touch, I would have recognised you as the rightful heir and would then have imparted all my knowledge to you. I can do that now, for if you had not been my heir, you could not have awakened me. However, before I give you my gift, I must know everything that has preceded your visit. Place both hands around the boss and open your heart and mind.’

  Jack leant over and cupped his hands around the shiny dome. He closed his eyes and visualised the back lane behind Grandad’s house. He felt the bump on his head again. He searched the grass and recreated the moment he discovered the golden acorn. As he bent over and touched the acorn, a rushing sensation coursed through his body. He felt hot and dizzy. The events of the past few months flashed through his mind; the images sped faster and faster. Colours and words mingled together until he couldn’t see any one image or distinguish any single word. In seconds, he experienced every emotion possible. Then everything stopped. His mind cleared only to find that his head and heart were being filled with Alindyne’s thoughts and feelings. It was like the book rush he’d experienced at Falconrock. The inpouring of images and emotions came so quickly it was impossible for Jack to make any sense of the information he was receiving. Sweat trickled down his back, his eyesight blurred, but he kept his hands firmly around the boss. He was relieved when everything stopped and he heard Alindyne’s voice once more inside his head. His words were almost whispered.

  ‘You’ve had a long and difficult journey for one so young. You must never doubt you are worthy, for I have seen all the qualities of kingship within you. Trust your own judgement, for you have Arrana’s power, crystal magic, and now my experience to call upon. You will be a good king, Jack Brenin, and your immortality will bring stability to Annwn. Never again will they want for a king.’

  ‘Immortality…? I don’t understand.’

  ‘You drank the juice from the Crochan leaves. Once that coursed through your veins you were no longer mortal.’

  Jack felt confused.

  ‘I’ve never drunk the elixir of life.’

  ‘You may not have realised it at the time but I have just watched one of your memories. Do you remember taking the stalks from the Crochan leaves?’

  Jack thought back to the first time he’d entered Annwn. He could see himself, as a raven, sitting next to Camelin, who had been transformed into a boy. They were in Gwillam’s garden with a pile of rhubarb and Crochan leaves. He’d been de-stringing the rhubarb and Camelin had been de-stalking the leaves. It had been a sort of punishment for all the trouble they’d caused. Jack remembered the strange taste of the leaves when he’d helped to de-stalk them.

  ‘I didn’t have the elixir, I only had some juice from the stems.’

  Alindyne laughed.

  ‘That juice was a thousand times more potent than the elixir. It hadn’t been brewed, it was concentrated. A few drops could harm a man, but you weren’t completely human when you swallowed it. Like Camelin, by a twist of fate you have achieved immortality.’

  Jack swallowed hard. He’d only just got used to being a Raven-Boy and being able to perform magic. The implications of being immortal were huge.

  ‘Does that mean I’m never going to die?’

  ‘It does.’

  Jack couldn’t speak. This revelation raised more unanswered questions. Alindyne’s voice sounded soft inside his head.

  ‘Hush. This is not the time or place to contemplate your immortality. You’ve got a long life ahead of you to work it all out. I saw in your heart your concern for your friends.’

  ‘I wasn’t able to help with the evacuation, but I still have friends inside Newton Gill who cannot be evacuated.’

  ‘The Gnarles?’

  ‘The trees cannot be uprooted and moved.’

  ‘But you have it within you to ensure their safety.’

  ‘I do? But how?’

  ‘By appointing an Oak Lord.’

  ‘But I can’t do that until my coronation and by then it might be too late.’

  ‘You are already King of the Forest. You have the power of the Hamadryad within you; there is no need for you to wait until you are crowned King of Annwn to appoint someone to be the guardian of the oaks. The protection the Oak Lord can give is for all oak trees both young and old, living or hollow. He will tend to the needs of the Hamadryads and those who dwell within the trees.’

  Jack remembered the conversation he’d had with Nora. She’d said the Oak Lord needed to be a mortal man, trustworthy and knowledgeable in the ways of the forests, an honorable man. Jack looked at the tomb before him. Inside lay a man who was once mortal and who was now at rest. A rush of excitement flooded his body. He forgot about being polite or dignified and blurted out his words.

  ‘You could be my Oak Lord, couldn’t you?’

  ‘If you would bestow that honour upon me, I would gladly do your bidding.’

  ‘Please, tell me, what do I need to do?’

  ‘Just ask me. Once I have agreed to your request I will be able to take on the mantle of the Oak Lord.’

  Jack thought carefully. This was a solemn moment. He needed to find the right words. How did you ask someone lying in a tomb to become the guardian and protector of the woods and forests of Glasruhen? If Alindyne agreed, would he appear before Jack in the tomb? He suddenly remembered his ancestor could read his thoughts. He took a deep breath and bowed low. When he stood up again, he’d decided what he must say.

  ‘Alindyne Brenin, King of the Festival, Worthy Mortal, Uncrowned King of Annwn, I would like to invest you with the mantle of the Oak Lord. Would you do me the honour of accepting my request?’

  Jack started to bow again, he heard Alindyne say his name and then the room began to spin. The tomb and the stone vanished in a spiralling greyness. Jack shut his eyes and spread out his arms to steady himself. He felt the softness of his blanket under his hands and the bed beneath his back. He felt something soft and warm nudging his cheek and a soft high-pitched squeaky voice calling to him.

  ‘Jack, Jack, what’s wrong?’

  ‘Orin?’

  ‘I’ve been trying to wake you. Didn’t you hear me calling?’

  Jack squeezed his eyes shut. He tried as hard as he could to see the inside of the Mound and to hear Alindyne’s reply. What would his ancestor think when he found himself alone? How could he let him know he’d been dragged back to his bed unwillingly? The only sound Jack could hear was Orin pleading with him.

  ‘Jack, Jack, don’t go to sleep, Camelin’s outside and wants to come in. You did tell me to wake you. I can’t open the window on my own. Please, Jack, wake up.’

  Jack groaned. Maybe when Camelin had gone he’d be able to return to the Mound. He swung his legs out of bed, parted the curtain, then leant over and opened the window.

  ‘You took your time. It’s freezing out there.’

  Jack flopped back heavily onto the bed.

  ‘Wake up, Jack! I’ve got things to tell you.’

  ‘I’m not asleep.’

  Jack immediately felt guilt
y for being so grumpy. It wasn’t Orin or Camelin’s fault that he’d been transported to the Mound. He sat up and opened his eyes.

  ‘Try to keep the noise down, I don’t want you to wake Grandad.’

  Camelin hopped onto the bed and leant over to Jack.

  ‘Do you know what time it is?’

  Jack tried to focus on his clock and gave up. He shook his head.

  ‘It’s time I was in bed. It’s time I was asleep. I should have had at least five hours’ shut-eye by now. Since you didn’t have anything else to do, you could at least have kept watch with Orin and waited for me to come back. I thought you’d want to know all about the evacuation.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Of course I want to know. Did it go all right, is everyone safe?’

  ‘With me in charge, how could it not be all right?’

  Jack wondered what Motley would have to say if he heard Camelin taking all the credit. As if to make his point, Camelin thrust out his chest and strutted around Jack. The softness of his bed made Camelin’s victory dance look really comical. Jack tried not to laugh as he wobbled unsteadily from side to side. He waited until Camelin had finished before he spoke again.

  ‘I’m awake now, so you can tell me all about it.’

  ‘It’ll have to be tomorrow now, since you took so long to wake up. I need to get to my raven-bed and get some sleep. Come and let me out. I’ll see you both tomorrow afternoon.’

  Once Jack had the window open, Camelin took off without even saying goodnight. Jack picked Orin up and stroked her back.

  ‘Well, we’re just going to have to wait to hear all the details but at least we know everyone’s safe. Thank you for keeping watch… it’s time you got some sleep too.’

  Jack carried Orin back to her cage and brought her favourite cushion back from the windowsill. He waited until she’d curled up before going back to bed.

  He closed his eyes and concentrated hard but, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t transport himself back into Alindyne’s tomb.

  RECOVERY

  ‘Would you like some help with those?’ Grandad asked as Jack struggled into the kitchen with his two heavy bags. ‘Looks like you packed enough for a month and not just a few days.’

  ‘I’ve got an extra bag for my costume.’

  ‘You take yourself off with your backpack and I’ll drop your big bags round at Ewell House later this afternoon. I’ve got to go into town, so I’ll be getting the car out. I’ll bring those vegetables round too, save you the bother of getting yourself all dirty. I’ve given them a good shake but there’s still a lot of soil on them. What about Orin?’

  ‘She’s in my pocket.’

  ‘Go on, off with you, then. I’ll see you later.’

  Jack gave his grandad a big hug.

  ‘Thanks. Have you got a costume for when we go trick-or-treating?’

  Grandad closed one eye, regarded Jack with the other and tapped the side of his nose with his finger. Jack knew it was useless to try to find out any more. He picked up his backpack, made sure Orin was all right and then opened the kitchen door.

  ‘I’ll see you later, then.’

  ‘Have a good time.’

  ‘I will.’

  As soon as Jack reached the gap in the hedge at the bottom of the garden he carefully took Orin out of his pocket.

  ‘I can’t let you go on ahead. I think we should stick together until Nora tells us it’s safe. If you hold on tight you can sit on my shoulder. You’ll feel the breeze in your fur if I run through the tunnel.’

  Orin squeaked with glee as Jack raced off towards Ewell House. He could feel the tips of her needle-like claws as she gripped his jacket. When they entered Nora’s garden, he bent over and let her scamper down his outstretched arm onto the path.

  ‘Off you go…’ Jack panted, ‘…you’ll be safe now.’

  He watched Orin race down the path while he got his breath back. He half expected Camelin to be waiting for him, but the garden seemed strangely quiet. It was early afternoon but the heavy dark clouds and the overhanging trees made the garden seem gloomy. He could see the kitchen was in darkness. The only light was a soft glow coming from underneath the Herborium door. Jack knocked and listened. He could hear muffled whispers but no one spoke.

  ‘It’s Jack. Can I come in?’

  Two furry faces peeped up at him from under the door.

  ‘Password?’ said Berry.

  Jack had no idea what the password could be.

  ‘I’m looking for Elan, Nora or Camelin. Are they inside?’

  ‘If that’s Jack Brenin standing outside the door, he doesn’t need a password,’ boomed Motley, ‘tell him to come in.’

  Fergus gave an embarrassed cough.

  ‘Sorry, Jack, we were told not to let anyone in.’

  ‘Anyone you didn’t know,’ corrected Motley.

  ‘Come in,’ said Berry, ‘but you’ll have to open the door yourself, the latch is too heavy for us.’

  Jack let himself in. As he closed the door, several candles on the table flickered. Shadows leapt around the room until the flames settled again. Jack could see some of the Night Guard had gathered around the hammock. Orin, who had obviously found her own way into the Herborium, was with them. Jack hoped Raggs was all right and hadn’t been hurt in the evacuation.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

  ‘Got ourselves a Wood Elf here. We missed her in the evacuation. Not sure how that happened. She’s hurt. Elan brought her back a couple of hours ago. We’ve been keeping watch.’

  Jack knelt down and took a closer look at the hammock. Inside was what looked like a tiny Fairy. She was dressed all in brown with a tall hat that curled to a point at the tip.

  ‘She looks like Twink,’ said Jack.

  ‘Most of the Fair Folk look alike, don’t you know. The Dryads are the tallest; Elves and Fairies the smallest but, unlike the Fairies, the Elves can’t transform to fly. They usually hitch a ride on something that does though. Often seen Wood Elves on the backs of beetles. In the summer they have bug races, quite something watching them speed around the forest. Quite a skill bareback bug racing, don’t you know. Nearly forgot… Nora said they’d be back soon. Gone to check Newton Gill one last time, just to make no one else has been injured or left behind.’

  ‘Has Camelin gone with them?’

  ‘No, the grumpy one’s asleep in the kitchen.’

  No one spoke. Jack pulled up one of the stools. He sat down and watched over the little elf with the others. Occasionally she turned and groaned softly. Jack knew she must be in some kind of pain.

  ‘Did Nora say what’s wrong with her?’

  ‘No,’ replied Motley. ‘We were asked to watch over her and if she wakes we’re to reassure her she’s safe.’

  Jack could see the little elf ’s eyelids flicker. In an instant she sat bolt upright, both her eyes wide open. She looked terrified. Raggs leant over and gently put his paw on her hand.

  ‘Don’t worry, you are with friends.’

  The elf began speaking so quickly Jack wasn’t able to catch what she said. He would normally have been able to understand the Elvish words, but her head shook so violently from side to side that it made all her words sound wobbly. He thought it best to introduce himself and the others.

  ‘I’m Jack,’ he said softly, ‘these are my friends and you’re safe in the Herborium at Ewell House. Are you hurt?’

  Instead of answering, the little elf pulled the coverlet over her head. Jack could see she was shaking. He looked at Motley, then Raggs, but they both shrugged their shoulders and shook their heads.

  ‘If Twink were here,’ he told Motley, ‘she’d know what to do.’

  The shaking from underneath the blanket stopped. A small face peeped over the edge.

  ‘Twink! You know Twink?’

  ‘We do,’ Jack assured her, ‘she’s our friend.’

  The little elf let out a great sob and began to cry. For such a small creature, it was a very loud noise. Jack l
ooked at the rats.

  ‘What did I say?’

  They each shook their heads. Orin tried patting her hand and making soothing sounds. The noise of the door latch made them turn towards the door, all except the elf, who wailed even more loudly.

  ‘Hmmm!’ said Elan, as she pointed her wand at the hammock. ‘I think I’d better put an end to that before it gets any worse.’

  A spiral of sparkling light twisted and turned across the room until it arrived above the hammock. It hovered for a moment about the Wood Elf ’s head before it cascaded over her like silver rain. The little elf immediately stopped crying and turned towards the door. Elan smiled and walked over to where Jack sat. He stood and offered her the stool.

  ‘That’s better,’ she said to the little elf. ‘Now, would you tell us who you are and exactly what happened?’

  ‘I’m Arin. My friend Twink asked me to keep an eye on Peabody’s house while he was gone, which I did. That’s why I was still in the forest. None of the other Wood Elves stayed, they all went off to our winter mound.

  ‘Every so often Twink would come and visit me and see if there was any news about Peabody. About a month ago, Twink stopped coming, I have no idea why, and I was worried about her. Then butterflies, moths and ladybirds all began to disappear. There was great unrest in the forest as the numbers of flyers declined. The beetles were afraid to take wing and stayed close to the forest floor.

  ‘Two days ago, I found my beetle friend and begged him to fly me out of the forest. I knew I had to get to the Meadow Mound and warn the Fairies not to go into Newton Gill. We were almost at the edge of the forest when a great hand appeared from nowhere and snatched at us. My beetle mount was fast, he was a four-time winner of the annual beetle races, but the hand was faster. It grabbed us. I was thrown to the ground and landed heavily on the forest floor. When I tried to stand, I found I couldn’t. Both my ankles were hurt. On the ground, next to me, were the remains of my beetle. He’d been crushed. The hand had shown him no mercy. I lay there, unable to move, watching as the hand grabbed at anything that flew past it. That’s the last thing I remember until I woke up here.’

  Jack felt so sorry for Arin and the creatures of the wood.

 

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