Dirt

by CC Hogan

Chapter 20 – All about Horses

  The storms that rage from time to time across Great Plains are triggered when a fierce, warm wind from the south hits the cold arctic winds that blow down from the ices and over the North Hoar Ridge. They are trapped between the Black Hills and the vast Alpine mountains of the ridge, and they circle round and round for days, raising the dust, and then flooding the plain with dark mud, making it impassable. Eofin and Be-Inua had flown as high as they dared and could barely reach the top of the storm. This was one of the worst for decades. On the south-western side of the Black Hills, into the rolling dales of Bekon, the wind was up, but there was no ravaging storm; it could not break past the mountains.

  Farthing leant against the farm gate, massaging his leg and contemplating the two pairs of large draught horses that were staring him down.

  “Are you going to harness those or wait for me to do it?”

  “Mistry, I have only ever attached a horse to a cart once in my life, and it was half that size and not looking at me as if I was breakfast!”

  The girl laughed as she walked from the farmhouse, stuffing her shirt into her new trousers, made for her in double quick time by the Draig Wen.

  “To start with it is a wagon, not your little cart, and you should be glad we haven’t been given oothen. They are even bigger and have foul tempers when they can be bothered to do anything.” Lazy as an oothen was a common complaint.

  They had been ferried down to the farm by Bren-Etan and Be-Inua early the previous day on their way south. The farmlands here were owned by the Abbey and run by a family that had been in Sen-Liana’s employ for generations, and lived in a sizeable house further up the valley. This small farmhouse was unused but kept clean and dry, and the little band had spent the previous day preparing for their journey, sorting out the wagon and draught horses and two other horses for riding. With Fren-Eirol unable to fly and the only other dragon available being Mab-Tok, the return journey would be in a wagon and slow. Tekkinmod would be seeking his revenge so this was the last thing they needed. But the storm would give them a head start, and Weasel had worked out a route using his mother’s maps that would take them a longer but hopefully less predictable route via South Bekon.

  In some ways, it was better not to rush. Leaving Tekkinmod out of the argument, the girls were now rescued and were safe for the moment, and they didn’t have to be anywhere at any time soon. Farthing’s leg, now tightly bandaged, was severely wounded, and though Mab-Tok had kept it clean and free of infection, Farthing could only just stand on it. More of a problem were the two girls. Pree was very ill, though food and water were making a difference, and as the realisation of their freedom had caught up with them, the trauma of their weeks in bondage had made itself known to both girls. The road to recovery would be as long as the road home. Mistry and Farthing had been lectured by Fren-Eirol and Sen-Liana. The girls were in their care and were their first duty. Weasel and Mab-Tok would worry about the route and the wagon. It was a lovely speech, but forgot that Mistry was the most experienced of them all when it came to driving a large wagon and team.

  Weasel would ride on one of the horses as would Farthing in a few days once his leg was a little better, not that he had ever ridden before. Mab-Tok would scout for the most part, and keep an eye on their route as some of the maps were old and probably out of date. Mistry would drive the team, and Rusty and Pree would ride with her in the wagon. That only left the last, unexpected member of the band of fellows; Lilygwin, the unusual, flightless Draig Wen. Farthing felt the brush of the small white dragon against his leg as she came out from the house and joined him at the gate.

  “I am going to fly with Mab-Tok today,” she told him in her simple, clipped way. It would be easy to think of this dragon as a child sometimes, but that would be a mistake. She was far, far older than everyone in their company and though was not well travelled, had an intuitive wisdom that saw things very clearly at times.

  “He will like that, I think,” Farthing said with a smile.

  “Tomorrow I will ride in the cart and look after Pree and Rusty, I think they will need me more then.”

  Lily didn’t know very much about humans, and it was unknown how much the Draig Wen would be able to use her skills for them. But somehow, this diminutive and gentle person had managed to keep Farthing strong and alive while he and Be-Elin were carried back in the claws of Bell-Sendinar. In the last couple of days, she had spent most of the time talking to Mab-Tok and learning everything he had to give. Between the two of them, Farthing was sure they would all recover their physical injuries, and Pree recover from illness, but it would only be the bond between them all that would help them recover from the wounds they carried deep within; especially the two girls.

  “You need to learn this even if you are limping, brother!” Mistry was standing in front of the first pair of draught horses which she had harnessed up. Farthing limped over to her and she handed him the two sets of reins. “We have to back them carefully so they are either side of the shaft and hitch them up. This cart has a short shaft which I wanted. It means we can run it with only two horses if needs be and I can make sharper turns.” Mistry had scrutinised just about every cart in the huge barn at the main farm the previous day, and the farmer had been surprised that someone who appeared so young, knew more than even he did.

  The girl stood in front of the two huge horses and patted one on the nose. “Stand to the side of the cart and just pull the reins gently but continuously, and say back to the horses. I will make sure they go the right way.”

  Farthing hobbled to one side and called “back” to the horses. Not much happened.

  “Keep saying it. The horses have blinkers so you are asking them to go somewhere they cannot see and they don’t like doing it.” Farthing tried again, and the horses gingerly stepped backwards till Mistry called for them to stop and patted them thank you. She lifted the thick shaft and yoke and linked through the chains to the horses’ harnesses. Once done, she pulled out the yoke for the front pair on a long chain she had already attached.

  “What time did you start harnessing up this morning?” Farthing was taking a closer look at all the tackle and could not believe how complicated it all was.

  “Over an hour ago. It doesn’t take long, but these gentlefolk have been rolling in the barn and I had to brush them down.”

  “Is that important?” Farthing asked innocently.

  “Of course it is! You’ve got to keep your horses pretty!” Farthing was reasonably certain that it was the wrong answer, but he didn’t press the issue. “Now, the other two. You can bring them over. Take their reins and gently play them out behind them. Then give them a little tug and tell them to walk on. They won’t run off, these are well trained. You can then walk them over here.”

  Farthing was amazed how easy it was, even allowing for his limp, but he was sure it was down to the training the horses had had at the farm, and no latent skill he possessed. Mistry took the reins and skilfully walked the horses in front of the other two and hitched them up.

  “We are ready to go now,” she announced. They had packed the wagon the night before, so it was only their clothes and bedding from overnight. The wagon was not the largest they could have had, but it carried far more than they could with Fren-Eirol. They had decided on a covered wagon, though it was one with removable bows so they could take down or roll back the canvas bonnet if they needed to.

  “You are looking forward to this,” Farthing said with a little smile.

  “I love driving, Farthing! Don’t get me wrong, dragon is the way to go, but driving is just fun. Hard work, but fun. This wagon is so much better than mine it is a joke.” Mistry looked a little sad for a moment. The loss of her father was still an open wound. So much was happening that is was easy to forget that it was just a couple of weeks since they had been caught by the slavers in Jerr-Vone. “To start with, mine had never seen a lick of paint and
was rough, unplaned wood, and all the chains were rusty as hell. This is nearly twice as big, better wood, and has springs on my seat!”

  Farthing laughed out loud. Mistry had spent a good half an hour bouncing on the seats to get the right one. However, she had yet to drive this splendid cart as the farmer’s sons had brought it down to them later in the day after they had cleaned it out.

  Rusty came down the front steps of the house buried beneath a big bundle of bedding, and followed by a frail looking Pree, who was now walking without help. Pree came over to Farthing and leant on him, hooking her arm through his. He looked down at her in surprise.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I have never been so useless in my life. I can’t lift anything, including me!”

  “You will,” he said. “Mab-Tok says you picked up one hell of a chill. You are lucky to be alive just from that, let alone everything else you and Rusty have been through.” A look of pain crossed his face. “I wish I could have found you both sooner.”

  “You have been through bad times too, Johnson,” the girl said.

  “Not like that!”

  It had turned out that the story Mistry had told the two red-headed girls had been somewhat edited. She had told them that her father had been killed and they had had a run in with slavers, but she had omitted to tell them what that had entailed. She had explained to Farthing quietly that what they had suffered was nothing to what the girls had gone through, and comparing notes seemed wrong. The wisdom that lurked inside the small girl caught him out regularly.

  Rusty blindly dumped the bedding into the back of the wagon and surprised Lily, who had climbed inside to look around. The small dragon shot out through the front drapes of the wagon, jumped up on the seat with big round eyes, and then giggled in embarrassment. Yet another trait never before seen in a Draig Wen; the girls were corrupting her further, it would appear.

  “Sorry!” Rusty called out from the back. Mistry leapt up onto the front of the wagon and climbed inside.

  “I will show you how to pack all this,” she told Rusty. “These big wagons are high off the ground, unlike my little work wagon, so we need to make sure the heavy stuff is at the bottom, and the light things like the bedding is on top. Makes it more stable and easier to drive,” she explained. “More comfortable for those in the back too.”

  Apart from the large covered bed of the wagon, there were side boxes that doubled as benches inside, plus more underneath the wagon that were accessed from between the wheels. Some of these would be for the horse-related items like spare shoes and bits of tack, but others were reserved for cooking gear and Farthings ever-present bags of beans. Large it might be, but it was incredibly well organised, and Mistry had taken advantage of every nook and cranny.

 

  Mab-Tok flew in about twenty minutes later. They were now all packed up and Weasel had finished yet another cup of coffee. He was currently sitting on his horse backwards, tying on his bedroll and soft bag.

  “I flew about five leagues down the trail,” the dragon said, rummaging in one of the side boxes for Mistry’s saddle. Lily had discovered that she had a similar problem to the girl when it came to sitting on Mab-Tok. Farthing had noticed that the smaller the dragon, and the more upright they were, the longer their legs appeared relative to their body. The white dragons were by far the smallest of all, and when it came to standing and running around, she more resembled a small human than she resembled dragons like Fren-Eirol. You had to ignore her long tail, of course, Farthing reminded himself with a smile. Either way, the saddle had been the solution again.

  “Anything we need to worry about?” Mistry asked. They would cover the five leagues at a slow wagon speed before midday.

  “One narrow stone bridge, but it has a ford which looked calm. The hills are not as steep here as around Tailin Moor, so I think you will make good time.”

  “Are you going to fly on ahead again?” Weasel called over. Mab-Tok and Lily were getting themselves into knots over the saddle, much to everyone’s amusement. Mistry eventually gave up and showed them the tricks she had learned.

  “I am going to rest here for a bit first, and I will catch you up about halfway. Then I will check the next stage and look for a camp site.”

  “Remember we want to avoid villages for the first few days at least,” Farthing called out as he helped Pree into the back of the wagon. She climbed to the front and gratefully slumped on the bedding. Mistry had rearranged it completely, and now almost the entire front of the wagon was like a huge bed. This would be the girl’s sleeping quarters while Weasel and Farthing slept under the wagon and Mab-Tok made his own arrangements with a canvas he had brought with him.

  “I know, but there are a lot of farms around here, and I cannot avoid everything,” Mab-Tok said. “I am going to look for any high routes over heathland or through forests. Not as kind on the horses, but it makes us less traceable.”

  They wanter to make the best of their head start, and that meant getting themselves lost as quickly as possible. The fewer people they saw and saw them, the fewer there were to tell Tekkinmod and his men where they were heading. This was partly why the wagon was so heavily stocked. Weasel wanted to be able to go a week without having to buy provisions. He hoped Farthing’s leg would get better quickly with help from the dragons and himself. The faster he could get the big man on a horse and riding confidently, the more adaptable they would be as a team. For the moment, while they had the advantage in time, the health of Farthing, Pree and Rusty was counting against them, and Weasel did not like that one bit. Of course, the ideal would have been to pile everyone on a Black Dragon, but those creatures flew so ridiculously high that only he would survive. When Bell-Sendinar had flown back across Great Plains, it had taken every ounce of Lily’s will to keep him at a low level. The magician was beginning to have serious doubts about who was in charge of the relationship between the Draig Mynyth Dun and the Draig Wen; who had the brains and who had the brawn.

  Mistry checked all her harnesses again and leapt nimbly up onto the driving seat next to Rusty ready to go. Farthing tied his unsaddled horse to the back and then climbed up the front of the wagon, grimacing at the pain in his leg. Halfway up, he reached for his sister’s foot and flipped her backwards onto the bedding behind the seat. She rolled over with a squeal and said something very descriptive that made Pree chuckle wickedly.

  “Sorry, sis, I need to sit upright with my leg or it will seize up.”

  “Well, you only had to ask.”

  “That wouldn’t have been any fun. Are you ready sister number two?” He smiled at Mistry, who was sitting on a folded blanket with one foot tucked under her and the other up on the top of the footboard.”

  “What about me?” Pree called from the back.

  “Well I know you are ready, I dumped you in there. Ow!” Farthing rubbed his back. “I didn’t think well brought up prelate’s daughters were meant to hit brave dragon riders!”

  “This one does,” came the quick reply. Farthing sighed. Learning to ride couldn’t come too soon.

  “Get a move on Weasel; you’re in the way,” Mistry called out. The magician, still sitting backwards and messing around with his various bags, glanced up and tapped his horse on the rump. She looked around at him with an evil eye, then huffed and plodded out through the farm gate while Weasel carried on with his sorting. “Brake,” Mistry said pointedly at Farthing.

  “What?”

  “The brake. It is your side.”

  “Oh,” said Farthing, and leant forward to unlatch the brake.

  “Walk on,” said Mistry to the horses and gave the reins a light twitch. The four big draught animals leant into their collars and slowly walked down through the gate of the farm and turned into the lane. Weasel was a little way ahead and, tying up his last bag, turned smoothly around in his saddle and urged his horse into a trot. Mistry gave the rains a twitch and made a clicking sound, and
the horses upped the pace, taking advantage of the gentle downward slope of the lane from the farm.

  In the back of the wagon, Pree carefully pulled herself up behind Farthing and rested her chin on his shoulder.

  “Sorry,” she said softly. Rusty and Mistry exchanged knowing glances. This trip might get complicated.

  Lunch, Farthing discovered, was very much a stop and eat affair as the horses had to be unhitched and grazed. He realised that by the time they reached the coast, which could take another two months, they were all going to expert with the horses and tackle. Mistry was also keen to share the driving around when the going was easier, and Rusty had already had a quick go at the reins. They hadn’t reached the ford yet that Mab-Tok had mentioned, but as he and Lily flew in, he said that they were only half a league away. It turned out the two had also trekked a little farther on and had found a rough track that was less obvious and would bypass one of the villages. He described the track to Mistry who said it would be a little slower, but no real problem; this was a sturdy wagon and the Bekon Brown draught horses were strong.

  Pree had been much quieter in the last hour and Rusty said the girl had been sleeping. Lily checked on her and asked Farthing if he could brew some tea. He hadn’t had any for days now, and brewed up enough for all of them, adding some of his favourite herbs and berries which Mistry foraged from the side of the track. Lily added some extra spices to one mug after talking to Mab-Tok, and disappeared into the back of the wagon. When she reappeared, she said that Pree was slipping back a bit, but she had expected this with the travelling. Lily would stay with her for the afternoon. Farthing noticed that Rusty was not looking so wonderful herself and he took over a hot mug of tea to where the girl was sitting on a log.

  “We never drink tea at home,” she said, and sniffed the steaming brew suspiciously.

  “I learned about this in Taken. You’ll love it. I brewed it most of the way across Bind.” He smiled at her jovially and put his arm around her. Farthing was not someone who asked continuously whether people were alright or not. He was much more likely to sit there with his mouth sewn shut trying to guess wildly, and probably get it wrong. Yet Rusty both loved and knew every inch of her brother well, and she answered the question he hadn’t got around to asking yet.

  “I don’t know how I am, brother,” she told him. “There is part of me that knows it could have been so much worse and would have been if you hadn’t shown up. Johnson, they tried to shame us, to belittle us and to take everything away from us. They didn’t, we hung onto each other and they didn’t break us, but, oh Johnson, they got so close, so very close. And when Pree realised that she had been sold by her father, you would have thought the world had just ended. She is angry now, but then she was heartbroken and I just couldn’t help her. I had no hope to give her. You don’t know how much you have saved her and she is not going to let you forget it, you know.” Farthing looked a little embarrassed. Rusty turned his face towards her.

  “We are going to be two months on the road together, brother, and I don’t know what will happen, but be careful. I think all of us are a bit fragile and Pree most of all, though I suspect that Mistry is hiding a lot too. But I know you brother, and I love you more than anyone, and I know you will let people hurt you time and time again before you let on. So please, be careful and don’t hide from me.” She hugged him and then laughed. “Actually, don’t let me out of your sight again either!”

  Mistry walked over. “Farthing, Pree is desperate to get out of the wagon to sit on the grass for a bit, but she is feeling dizzy and unstable. Lily said can you help her.” The young man finished his tea and hobbled over to the wagon. Mistry sat on the grass beside Rusty. “What’s happening?” she asked the girl.

  “You mean with Pree? You haven’t noticed that she is falling completely and utterly in love with our brother?”

  “Okay, yeah I noticed. Is this because he saved her?” Mistry looked guilty. “Because I had a bit of that till I met this family who kind of cleared my head.”

  Rusty grinned. “I kind of worked that out in about five seconds, sis! No, this is partly my fault I think.”

  “How come?”

  “Johnson is my entire family and I am his. So, while Pree and I have been chained together, I have told her every single story about him, every stupid thing he has ever done, which is a long list, and all about his handcart and our friends and our life and how thick he can be and how strong he is and … oh, I don’t know. Everything, good and bad, even the arguments we have had; I left nothing out.” She giggled. “Actually, I hadn’t realised quite how unintentionally funny he is until I told her all the stories.”

  “So?”

  “So, I think she had fallen in love with him even before we were rescued. I used to drag him into my mind before I went to sleep so I had fewer nightmares.” In a second, the pain had returned and Mistry held Rusty’s hand. “I think Pree was doing the same. And then they met.”

  “And?”

  “Well, in all the stories and all the lists of his good and bad points I had forgotten to mention one thing him about him.”

  “And?” Mistry was getting impatient.

  “I forgot to tell her how pretty he is!” Mistry whooped with laughter and Weasel looked up from where he was map-reading with Mab-Tok. “Oh, and how tall and strong and …. Well, come on girl, you know what he is.” Mistry blushed bright red and Rusty nearly fell backwards in laughter, joined quickly by the young girl.

  “So,” said Mistry, getting her breath back in gulps. “What about Farthing? What does he think?”

  “He just thinks she’s ill.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, big oh. Will you help me walk them through this, Mistry? Look, I can see you like him, but I know that when he says you’re his sister, he means it. He has that nailed down tight. So, will you put that aside and help?”

  Mistry twisted her lip. “I thought I had hidden it better.”

  “This is my brother we are talking about here, and he is my whole family. I am going to notice that sort of thing.”

  Mistry smiled. “Yeah, I know. And I also know that it is true about the sister bit. When he told me he wanted to be my brother and give me a home, I was both thrilled and crushed all at the same moment. The bloody ox didn’t notice at all!” She rubbed her hands as if chilled. “Look, I need to get over that, and if I still feel disappointed inside, well that’s my problem, and it is a pretty small one now. I have to get this cart nearly five hundred leagues to the coast. So, yeah, I will help. But why do you need it?”

  “I told Farthing to be careful just now, that we are all a bit fragile and he mustn’t go burying his feelings all over the place like usual. You see, I am not worried about Pree, at least not in that way, though I know she hasn’t been in love before. I am worried about my brother. I think he is a lot more fragile than anyone else has noticed.”

  Mistry looked over to the Wagon. Farthing was climbing painfully to his feet from where he had been sitting with Pree and limped over to his horse.

  “I hadn’t thought about it, but you are right.” The girl turned to Rusty. “He keeps getting battered and bruised and he has nearly died twice now on the journey.”

  “Twice?”

  “Yes, he was stung by some strange sea creature when they were flying to Taken. That is how they met Mab-Tok; he saved Farthing’s life. He was in a really bad way, apparently. And then the slavers beat him up badly. And then he got stabbed when getting you guys. Lots of hurt you see, but he has spent so much time limping or aching, that I haven’t thought enough about what is going on inside.” She bit her lip and cursed herself. “I should listen to that bloody magician more.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Weasel doesn’t see physical things as a problem. He looks at the person behind the problem, then probably shouts at them or takes the piss, but at least he notices.” />
  “Get up, children,” shouted Weasel on cue. “Mr Goatherd, are you going to mess with that horse all day, or are you going to hitch the wagon?”

  “Hitch the Wagon, Mr Horseman!” Farthing hopped like a three-legged hog over to where the draught horses were tethered.

  “What’s with the names?” asked Rusty, getting to her feet.

  “Oh, that is what they were calling themselves when posing as slave buyers at the market; right double act they were. Don’t be surprised if they use the names in any villages we pass through, it will help with us hiding.”

  “Slave buyers? You have got to fill me in on the rest of the stories, Mistry.”

  “Well once the lump is up on his horse, we will have the wagon to ourselves. We can share stories in our way.”

  “Good idea!” The two ran over to the wagon; Rusty to help Pree back inside and Mistry to save Farthing from four mean Bekon Browns.

  Farthing sat on his horse, looking out over the moors. He had been three weeks in the saddle now and could honestly say that Mistry was right; dragon was better. More comfortable, for a start, but that was another thing he would never say to Fren-Eirol, if he should see her again. He had first attempted to ride when they were five days out from the Black Hills. Pree’s illness had worsened over the first two days, and he thought they were going to have abandon their brave journey across southern Bind until she recovered. But then, she had started getting better and quickly. Mab-Tok said it was simply that whatever had infected her had run its course, and now her body was taking control better than any of his medicines had done. Farthing wondered whether it was because he had stopped giving her medicine that she had started feeling better, but that was probably uncharitable.

  The horse riding lessons had taken a week before Mistry and Weasel, the only other two riders in the party, were happy that he was not going to fall off. He had been in the saddle ever since. Inevitably he had still fallen off a couple times, but when you do several leagues a day on a horse, half of that scouting ahead on your own as he was now, then you either stop falling off or give up. He had stopped falling off.

  Farthing had spent the morning trying to find his way past a belt of villages that appeared to have some sort of festival going on, which was definitely something they wanted to avoid. A couple of Mab-Tok’s detours had proved problematic since from the air he could not see clearly the state of the road or how steep it was. It was only through Mistry’s extraordinary driving skills that they had managed to get through at all. So, he and Weasel had taken to working closer with Mab-Tok to find better routes. This moor was looking promising.

  They were quite a bit farther south now, and had turned south-west in the last couple of days, sticking more or less to Weasel’s plan. They had first headed south through the county of Loffan, staying parallel to the central ridge of mountains that ran along the eastern border of Bekon. They had continued south through the rural counties of Essennor and DeVale until they reached Calon where they changed tack. There were much quicker ways to get across Bind, but they did not want to take a too obvious route. They had seen and heard nothing from Tekkinmod, but as time passed, Farthing was getting more nervous about the man. He and his men would probably be on fast horses, and though the hunters might take an entirely different route to the one they were taking, they would be covering far more distance than the wagon each day; they could afford to make mistakes. Also, Tekkinmod was incredibly wealthy; he could ride the horses into the ground and just buy more. Horses were very popular in Bind where the distances between towns could be many leagues and there were small liveries everywhere.

  There was another possibility that Mab-Tok had suggested which Farthing thought very likely. If Tekkinmod realised that they had not gone back the way they had come, he could just take the straightest and fastest route to the coast, and set up watches at the various ports. There were not that many major ports along the long coast of Bind that would be used by traders that might cross the Yonder Sea. All he need do is get there first, put a few men in each and wait for them. Wherever they got to, they would have to try to find passage to Taken which could take days and they would be vulnerable. It was an unpleasant thought.

  Farthing turned his horse and headed back at a fast trot. There was a crossroads a league back where he had arranged to meet with the Wagon and Mab-Tok who had been checking ahead with Lily. With Pree well and truly on the mend, at least physically, Lily was spending more and more time with Mab-Tok, enjoying the one thing she could not do as a dragon; fly.

  It was coming up to midday when he made his way down the farmers track to the crossroads and he could see the bonnet of the Wagon sticking above the hedges. Suddenly he pulled to a halt. Horses, a lot of them, and they were surrounding the wagon.

  “Get down, over here!” Weasel was down by a wall, keeping his own horse quiet.

  “What are you doing up here?”

  “I was coming to see whether this farm had water.”

  “It’s abandoned. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know, but I heard Mistry’s voice, and she sounded annoyed.”

  “We better get down there.”

  “In a minute. I am waiting for Mab-Tok.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Close.”

  Usefully, Weasel had discovered he could connect to Lily in the same way he could with the Draig Mynyth Dun, though he said she made far more sense than they did. When she and Mab-Tok were off scouting, he was able to keep track of them.

  “Here they come.”

  Mab-Tok landed quietly and, ducking low, came up next to them.

  “Where is Lily?” Farthing asked.

  “I have dropped her the other side. She said something about the cattle up there and insisted I drop her off. She doesn’t always describe things well.”

  “Could you see what was happening?”

  “Not clearly, but they are arguing with the girls and some of the men are armed. I don’t know who they are, but they are not Farmers.”

  “Tekkinmod?” asked Farthing.

  “No, if it were him there would be no arguing going on.”

  “We can’t stay here,” Weasel said.

  “What do you suggest?” Farthing asked.

  “We have two swords, two big horses and a dragon. I suggest we go wave them about!”

  Weasel jumped back into his saddle and rode down toward the crossroads. Farthing pulled his own sword, unstrapped his club, and followed quickly behind. Halfway down it was clear the situation was getting out of hand. Mistry was standing up on the seat and had her knife pointing at the men. There were about ten of them, by the looks of it.

  “Shit!” Weasel shouted. “Charge!”

  “What? Oh, bugger!” Farthing galloped his horse down after the magician, his sword pointed straight forward. Behind him he heard a roar as Mab-Tok took to the air and swooped over his head, talons pointed towards the men. Surprise was their only advantage, and the men span around towards them in alarm. One man shouted orders at the others, and they recovered quickly, drawing their swords for a fight. Just as Farthing and Weasel dashed around the last bend, the hedge on the other side of the road erupted, and fifty or more angry bullocks steamed across the road and straight into the bandits. Mistry grabbed the reins of her horses in panic, and shouted at the team to back up. The big draughts were not impressed, and as a couple of the men fought their way through the bullocks, the two lead horses reared up, sending the men’s frightened mounts staggering back into the cattle.

  “Back off!” shouted Weasel to Farthing. “Give the cattle somewhere to go.”

  Farthing and Weasel turned their horses and trotted back up the road, followed by the bullocks. Half of the men had come off their horses and the others were desperately trying to get their animals under control. Weasel spotted the man who was evidently in charge. He turned his horse back around again, pushed through the bullocks, smas
hed the man’s sword away and held his knife to his throat.

  “Drop your weapons,” he shouted to the other men. “Do it, now!” The leader nodded to them to obey, his eyes wide. These men were thugs and brawlers, not trained fighters. “Who are you?” Weasel shouted at the man.

  “They are highwaymen.” An angry and frightened Pree leapt down from the wagon and picked up the man’s sword. She looked at it carefully. “Bit rich for him, I would say; looks like they steal their weapons too.”

  Farthing had grabbed one of the men who was trying to sneak away and rode over, holding the man dangling by his throat.

  “What do I do with him?”

  “He looks disgusting; drop him,” Weasel suggested.

  Farthing turned the man over and dropped him to the ground head first. Weasel glared at the leader and saw that Pree was pointing the sword at the man’s stomach.

  “I suppose we should take you into the local town and drop you off with whoever would be most interested.” The man swallowed hard. “But to be honest, we don’t have the time so we need something more immediate. Especially since you have been threatening my family here!” Weasel was angry and the man turned white.

  “We only wanted what you have in the wagon, we don’t want to hurt no one!” He was whimpering with fear.

  Farthing and Mab-Tok had meanwhile rounded up the men who were trying to wander away and had them lying on the wet, muddy road; it had rained heavily the night before. Mistry and Rusty jumped out of the wagon and calmed the still jittery Bekon Browns. The bullocks, meanwhile, had realised that whatever Lily had promised them was not to be found, and were sulkily climbing back through the hedge.

  Weasel had a sword in one hand and his knife in the other and he sharpened one against the other. “Mr Goatherd!”

  “Yes, Mr Horseman?”

  “What is that thing that slavers do to shame people?”

  “They strip them, Mr Horseman. Strip them naked, the bastards!” He glanced at his sister.

  “That was it. Damned terrible thing to do to someone wouldn’t you say, Mr Goatherd?”

  “Terrible thing, Mr Horseman. No decent person deserves to be stripped naked.” The banter may have seemed comical, but the dark tone of Farthing’s voice was unmistakable.

  “What about thieves and thugs?” Weasel looked down at Pree. “What do you say, Miss Sparrow? Should thugs be made to strip?”

  Pree looked up at Weasel, quickly absorbing her new name, and thinking of the humiliation served on her and Rusty by the thugs of Tekkinmod.

  “I say strip ‘em, Mr Horseman,” Pree snapped, sounding more like Farthing than her usual voice. She turned to the other girls. “What about you Miss Raven?” Mistry decided that was her.

  “I say strip ‘em!”

  “And you Miss Parrot?” Pree was enjoying this little play and the small moment of revenge.

  “I say strip ‘em!” shouted back Rusty, her voice laced with anger.

  Weasel looked at the man on the horse straight in the eye.

  “Strip. Now,” he said. There was no play-acting in his voice.

  One by one, all the men stripped and the girls collected up their clothes, took them up into the field and dumped them in a dung heap.

  Lily appeared from the side lane and Farthing jumped down off his horse and whispered to her. She nodded and went to one of the men’s horses, reached up and touched it on the nose, closing her eyes. Suddenly the horse whinnied, turned and galloped up the road. She did the same with the rest till all the horses had fled.

  “So, thief,” Weasel said to the leader who was now kneeling naked with his men on the road, all neatly bound with their hands tied to their feet behind them. “Please do not attack us again, because next time, we will not stop at games, do you understand?” The man nodded. “Mr Horseman, Miss Raven, let’s get the family moving.” And the small band turned left at the crossroads and headed up to the moors.

  The men sat still for nearly twenty minutes waiting for their leader to say something. Eventually, one of them built up the courage to speak.

  “Micky, are we going to chase after them?”

  “No.”

  “Why Micky? They shamed us, we should get them!”

  “I said no!”

  “Why?”

  “Number one, we have no clothes. Number two, we are tied up. Number three, our horses seemed to have left the country. Number four, I think we only just got away with our lives. And number five, that cow is staring at me, and I don’t like what I think it’s thinking!”

  “Parrot?”

  “I was running out of birds!” Pree said defensively.

  “What did they teach you on your island?”

  “Lots of things, just not about birds.”

  “What about dove? Or lark? Or swan? Or something else sweet and innocent?”

  “I like Parrot,” Farthing said.

  “Shut up, brother!”

  Farthing rode side by side with Weasel ahead of the cart as they made their way to the woods at the edge of the Moor.

  “Just for interest, Farthing,” Weasel said. “What did you ask Lily to tell the horses?”

  “I asked her to put the idea of Sarn-Tailin and how to get there into their heads. They are short of horses in the village.”

  “It is a long way from here.”

  Farthing shrugged. “They will find it. I’m sure of it.”

  “Meanwhile, we have to get to the coast in one piece, and we are less than halfway there. We should camp, I think, and we better take turns at guarding tonight.” Weasel turned his horse into the trees and dismounted.

  “Do you think they’ll come back?” Farthing asked, slipping off his horse.

  “Not naked and with their horses heading north. No, they were just thugs. They won’t risk that we really know what to do with these swords, but where you get one bunch of bandits acting openly on the roads, you are going to get others. Let’s hope these moors are safer.”