Blackbriar (6 page)

“I’d rather like to see those tumuli that Mr. Creech was talking about,” Danny said. “He said they were at the other end of the ridge.”

“I
do
love being outside,” Philippa said, “but I don’t think I could manage that long a walk. I feel like a cup of tea, and the fire. You go on, though. Just remember to start back in time to get home before it’s too dark to see.”

“I’ll remember,” he said, and carefully handed her the bundle of branches.

Beyond the overlook the track was spotted with deep ruts full of muddy water, and for a while it became very narrow, for the hillside was quite close and sloped down almost vertically into the valley. At the bottom a few cows grazed languidly among boulders and tufted grass. Beyond this place the track widened and continued as it had been before, sloping gradually upward. In the bright sunlight Danny forgot his fears of the night before and strode briskly across the brown grass, holding his arms out to feel the wind, singing at the top of his lungs until he was out of breath. He felt free and totally alone. The thought occurred to him that he could even take off his clothes, if it weren’t so cold.

Eventually the track narrowed again and became a path winding through high bushes. It was impossible to stay out of the mud and he slogged through it joyfully. He fell down once or twice, and laughed out loud.

Around a bend the bushes disappeared, and he found himself at the edge of a wide plateau. This was the other end of the hill, and on either side the land sloped steeply down into two valleys. The plateau was practically level, covered with the same short brown grass, and was absolutely treeless.

At the other end were the tumuli. Although they were covered with the same grass and were gently rounded, it was obvious immediately that they were man-made. The three curving mounds were about twenty feet in height, symmetrically arranged to form the three points of a tri-angle. It was odd to see something so natural, like a growth on a hillside, that was so perfectly, evenly formed.

He started toward them. The wind raced across the open expanse of land, unhindered by any trees, and Danny suddenly felt chilly. He noticed that the sky was now filled with thick clouds rushing over the landscape with magical speed. On either side he could see valleys, and other hills, rolling on forever into the distance. He felt as if he could see the whole world.

As he approached the tumuli they seemed to grow taller, rising up and leaning over him. They were a bleak and desolate sight, and there was something peculiarly awesome about them. Danny remembered what Mr. Creech had said. The nearest of the mounds was just above him. He ran up, panting in the stinging air.

At the top was a little indentation which had been invisible from below. Lying in it was a girl.

“Oh!” Danny gasped, startled and out of breath, “I didn’t know anybody was here.”

“Hardly anyone ever comes here,” the girl said calmly. She seemed to be about his own age. Her hair was tawny, shoulder-length, scattered over the grass behind her. Her face was round and very ruddy, sunburned even in winter. She had large brown eyes and a round, full mouth which looked relaxed and almost tough. She wore bluejeans and a thick, black sweater.

“The view is much prettier than I am,” she said, smiling faintly. “Why don’t you look at it?”

Danny turned around, embarrassed. He stared out over the misty hills, many shades of brown and green. From here he could see more of the ocean, which was dark, as though there were rain over it. But he couldn’t think about the scenery; he could hardly see it. His mind was whirling with the surprise of seeing this girl here, and his ears were filled with the husky sound of her voice.

“Nice, isn’t it?” she asked. “This is one of the highest places in England. And one of the most secluded. I come here quite often.” Danny turned back and her eyes met his. “Are you on holiday or something?” she asked.

“No,” he said. ‘I live here.”

“You
live
here!” For the first time she sounded surprised. “Where?”

“In this little cottage at the other end of the ridge.”

“You live at
Blackbriar
? Nobody’s lived there for as long as I can remember. You must have just moved in.”

“Yesterday.”

“Jesus!” she said. “Why don’t you sit down.”

As he squatted on the grass he noticed that in the center of the hollow was a ring of charred stones, as if there had been a fire there.

“How amazing that you live at Blackbriar! Even my father doesn’t have the guts to live that far away from everything. What made your family decide to live there?”

“I don’t have a family.”

“Then who do you live with?”

“The secretary at my school. I mean, she used to be the secretary at the school I used to go to.”

“No parents? My mother died when I was a baby, I just live with my father now. He’s an artist.”

“Do you live near here?”

“Down at the bottom of the hill, near the Black Swan. We lived in London before my mother died. I hardly remember it, but I know I couldn’t bear it now.”

“Philippa, that’s the lady I live with, hated London too. So finally she just gave up her job and we moved out here. I didn’t think I would like the country, but maybe it’s going to be all right. We had no idea that Blackbriar would be so strange.”

“I’ll bet you didn’t.” She was beginning to sound calm and self-assured again. “Hardly anyone will go near the place, I don’t know why. It certainly doesn’t scare
me
.”

“Have you ever been inside?”

“No. But sometimes I walk past it. I always wished we lived there, but my father didn’t want to be so far away from the pub.” She laughed. “I always look in the windows, but it’s hard to see anything, they’re so dusty.”

“Well they aren’t now, not with Philippa around. But why
are
people afraid of Blackbriar? What do they think is wrong with it?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s just kind of the local spooky place. What’s it like to live there?”

“It’s all right. But there is something strange about it. There’s an uncomfortable feeling. I don’t really understand it.”

“Uncomfortable how?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Danny noticed with surprise that he was talking to her in a very free, relaxed way. He had always been very shy with people his own age, and since his school in London had been a boy’s school, talking to a girl like this was a unique experience. But she was so forthright, and so interested, that he completely forgot to be shy. “There’s a creepy feeling to the place, an atmosphere. And the basement is really frightening. It scares me to go down there, although there isn’t anything obviously gruesome in it. And the door to the basement has a list of names carved on it, with dates like 1665. I can’t figure out why they’re there, or what the place was originally built for, so far away from everything. I mean there must have been a reason for building it.”

“Nobody does seem to know why it’s there,” the girl said. “But I’m sure you’re just afraid because it’s old and dark, and you’re used to living where there’s crowds all around.”

“That’s what I would think too, except that there really
is
something frightening about it. I can feel it, but I can’t explain it. It’s something almost tangible.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see for myself some day.”

They fell silent and watched the clouds roll above them, dark and threatening now. The wind was even stronger, and Danny was shivering in his heavy coat. The girl didn’t seem cold at all. The ocean was no longer visible, and many of the hills were hidden in mist, so that the landscape just seemed to end abruptly.

“Do you build fires here?” Danny asked.

“No . . . You know, that could be another reason why people avoid Blackbriar, and the whole ridge.” She paused, and her voice dropped dramatically, even though they could both see that there was no one within two miles of them. “Strange things go on up here. One night a few months ago I was walking down by our house, and up here on the hill I could see fires burning, big ones. And there must have been a crowd of people, because I could vaguely hear voices, as though they were singing.”

Danny was immediately struck by the similarity of this story to the dream he had the night before. “Do you think what you saw might be related to that legend about the three kings buried here?”

“Perhaps,” she said doubtfully.

“But on the other hand, what’s so strange about having a bonfire? Maybe they were just having a picnic, and singing folk songs.”

“I’m
sure
it wasn’t anything so mundane. For one thing, it didn’t really sound like singing. It was more like chanting. Sort of like that medieval stuff—”

“Gregorian chant?”

“Yes, but different. More . . . violent, or passionate, or something. And they were all perfectly together. That’s why I could hear it. Every once in a while they would all shout. It was weird. I wanted to come up here and see what was going on, but I just didn’t have the guts to do it alone.”

“I wonder if it will happen again. . . .” Danny said. This is stranger than anything I ever dreamed up, he thought suddenly, and wondered if the house itself had been involved in any way. “But other people must know about it. Didn’t you ask anyone?”

“They wouldn’t tell me,” she said bitterly.

“Mr. Creech didn’t mention it to us. We
thought
his explanation sounded a bit flimsy. But if he didn’t warn us about it, he must have thought it wasn’t really dangerous for us to be around. I know he wouldn’t tell us it was safe here if it wasn’t. He just must have thought it would scare us away.” He explained about the Land Rover, and how they had spent the night in the Creeches’ house.

The girl lay back on the brown turf again, putting her hands behind her head. She smiled at Danny. “You know,” she said, “I’m glad you’ve come to live here. I get pretty lonely sometimes. There aren’t many other kids around this part of the country. Except for the
gentry
, of course, who are a bunch of prigs and snobs. They’re always away at school anyway.”

“I suppose I’m glad we’ve come, even though I didn’t want to. I can’t tell yet.”

“Why did you come, if you didn’t want to?”

For a moment he didn’t know what to say. “Well . . . Philippa wanted me to, and she usually gets her way. And I didn’t have anywhere else to live.”

She looked at him strangely. “But if you really didn’t want to come, why didn’t you just find another—”

“Oh,” he said quickly, “it doesn’t matter now. I’m here.” But why
do
I let Philippa run my life? he thought. Why am I so afraid to stand up to her? And for the first time it seemed very wrong to him that for as long as he had lived with her, Philippa had been practically his only companion. “Anyway, I just wish I could find out what all these strange things mean.”

“I’ve always wanted to find out about them too,” she said. “We can help each other.”

“Yes, but
you
live down below, where there are other people around. Philippa and I live up here in the dark, alone.” He was about to add that she also lived with her father, someone perhaps more reassuring to have around than a middle-aged secretary. But her confident manner, her implication that she did not have to depend on adults, made him feel slightly foolish. He was, after all, the man of his house.

“Well, I’d like to come up to your house sometime,” she said. “And if there’s another one of those . . . fires and chanting things up here, we’ll go together.”

Danny hadn’t been sure that he was going to go at all; but now, of course, he realized he had to. It was almost as if they had made a pact.

He felt a cold drop of rain on his forehead, and stood up, shaking himself and stamping his feet. “I think I’d better start back,” he said. “I’m not sure I could find my way back in the dark, and I already got drenched last night.”

“Yes,” she said, getting up too, “I have to fix something for my father to eat.” Suddenly they were awkward.

“Oh,” Danny said, “what’s your name?”

“Lark,” she answered, holding out her hand, “Lark Hovington.”

“Mine’s Danny Chilton,” he said, shaking her hand. They couldn’t help smiling at each other.

“Well, bye,” she said, and plunged down to the plateau. When he got down, on the other side of the mound, he turned and waved. She was already starting down the hillside. “See you later!” he called, and she smiled back.

He ran almost all the way to the cottage, not because of the impending darkness and rain, but because he was happier than he could ever remember being before.

By the time he reached the house he had decided not to tell Philippa about the girl (which meant that he could not tell her the story about the fires on the plateau, either). He was afraid of what Philippa would do if he told her he had met someone he liked. In London, Philippa had successfully managed to end every friendship Danny had made. At first he had believed her explanations: it was for his own good that she did not want him to see so-and-so. But eventually it had become clear to him that she had other motives, and soon after that it dawned on him what they were. She was simply afraid to let anyone else become important in his life, for then he might be moved to leave her. She held onto him with an iron grip. When he first realized this, Danny had resented it bitterly; but, as with everything else, he had given in. She was stronger than he was. No friendship had been important enough to go through the struggle of fighting with her about it.