Carola Dunn (21 page)

 What Grandmama had told her to do seemed odd. However, the wise-woman was certain it was necessary, though there was no guarantee of success. She would not have insisted if she were not quite sure, for it involved some danger for Reynata. The spell protecting her only worked when she was human.

 She had asked whether they could not tell Lord Androwick what had happened to his eldest son. The Earl would surely be willing to ransom his heir. Grandmama thought it too risky. In the first place, she might be blamed for his metamorphosis. And then, the only way persuade his lordship to keep the news from Damon and Basil would be to inform him of his younger sons’ attempt on the life of their brother, which he would surely disbelieve. If those two found out Lord Drake’s whereabouts, he was once again in deadly danger.

 Reynata’s wait was lengthy, for Damon Drake was a slug-abed to whom a morning departure meant shortly before noon. At last Tibb flew up to report his approach. Then she saw him, astride a grey gelding with a fat saddlebag slung on either side. His shotgun he held across the saddlebow before him.

 As soon as he caught sight of Reynata, he raised the gun, cocked it, and took aim.

 The dastard would shoot a fox? She had not thought him so utterly lacking in gentlemanly instincts as to commit such an appalling impropriety! He might as well be one of the common poachers Cobnut had warned her against.

 “Don’t shoot me!” she cried.

 He looked a little taken aback when she addressed him in the King’s English, but he said truculently, “Why the devil not?”

 “Because I can give you good advice.”

 “How can a paltry beast give good advice?” he sneered, and raised the gun again.

 “Wait! I know you seek the firebird.” That gave him pause. “This evening you will come to the town of Crediton. As you enter the town, you will see two inns opposite each other. One, the Pair o’ Dice, is a smart, busy posting-house, but you should go to the other, the Pheasant, though it is a quiet, rather shabby place.”

 “Pair o’ Dice? Paradise! And for once I have a decent stake in my pocket,” said Damon, and fired his gun.

 Tibb squawked an alarm just before Damon squeezed the trigger. Reynata skipped back among the trees barely in time to escape the hail of shot. As Damon rode on, whistling, followed by Tibb, she ran home.

 “You did not warn me that he would shoot at me, Grandmama!”

 “I did not foresee it, my love. I have never sought to develop what foresight I have, and it is erratic, as you know. Who would guess he was blackguard enough to shoot a fox!”

 “You were right about the rest, though. He seemed determined to ignore the advice I gave him.”

 “He is contrary by nature,” said the wise-woman with a nod of satisfaction, “and a gambler to boot. With any luck, the two hundred pounds the Earl gave him will keep him busy a long time, so Aldwin will be safe from him.”

 “And I am to do the same by Basil tomorrow?”

 “Yes, child. Basil is less stubbornly perverse, but he will doubtless choose to join his brother.”

 Tibb returned to report Damon safely ensconced in the Pair o’ Dice, already settled at a card-table with the gamesters who frequented the inn.

 On the next day, all fell out as Mistress Gresham predicted. Basil pointed his gun in a rather half-hearted fashion at Reynata. She advised him to stay at the Pheasant Inn. When he dithered, she told him Damon had stopped at the Pair o’ Dice and was likely still there, which persuaded him to do likewise.

 She did not expect him to shoot at her, since his brother was not there to egg him on, so she was taken by surprise when he fired. Luckily his aim was shockingly bad.

 However, the second narrow escape dispelled the feeling of safety she had always felt in fox form. Now she understood what Lord Drake had meant when he refused a protective spell on the grounds that he might come to depend upon it too much. How right he was! After all, the spell she had begged Grandmama to put on him was the cause of his present predicament.

 In the course of the next fortnight, thrice young John rode through the woods to tell the wise-woman his father would not let him go. Thrice she urged him to keep trying. A few days later he came again, with a joyous face.

 “Just as you said, ma’am, Father has relented!”

 “You underestimated your persuasiveness,” Reynata told him with a smile.

 “Oh no,” said the youth blushing, “he just grew tired of me pestering him. And he badly wants the firebird. He takes the feather out every day to look at it.”

 “He has not heard from your brothers?” asked Mistress Gresham.

 “Not a word, so I’m to hunt for them, too, as well as the bird. Surely I’ll find one of the three! Not that I want to find Damon or Basil. I’d much rather find the firebird.”

 “When do you leave?”

 “First thing tomorrow morning. Wish me luck.”

 They did so gladly, and Reynata gave him a sprig of lucky white heather she had found on the moors. He stuck it in his lapel and went off happy and excited.

 “You still don’t want him to know the firebird is his brother?” Reynata asked.

 “Best not. It cannot be told without revealing how Damon and Basil attempted to murder Aldwin. Besides distressing John—if he believes it—it might perhaps make him take unnecessary risks to rescue Aldwin.”

 “Will John come to harm?”

 “Not if he does what you tell him,” said the wise-woman austerely. “He is willing but foolish. You must watch over him and counsel him. You will be too far from home to run to me for advice. Listen carefully, now, for there are any number of pitfalls you may have to extricate him from if Aldwin is to be saved. “

 “I’ll do anything!” Reynata said with fervour.

Chapter VII

 A heavy hoar-frost sparkled in the early sun when Reynata once more took up her post in the ruined cottage near Long Yeoford. Her blood was warm from running, but she curled her white-tipped tail around her black feet, glad to be clad in thick russet fur. A human would have frozen, sitting there.

 John did not keep her waiting. He sang as he rode along the lane on his sturdy brown mare. Reynata wondered what had become of Lord Drake’s golden mare, Amiga. How sad he would be to find her missing when he took his rightful shape again—if Grandmama managed to change him back, if John and Reynata succeeded in rescuing him.

 Too many ifs. She felt like howling.

 The sprig of white heather was pinned to John’s lapel, Reynata noticed. Then she caught sight of a shotgun slung across in front of him. Instinct took over and she jumped up to flee.

 “Don’t be afraid, little fox!” he called, drawing rein. “I shan’t hurt you. The gun is to shoot a rabbit for my supper, for my father is so certain I shall be cheated, he has given me very little money.”

 The Earl might well be right, for what could be more addlepated than to explain himself to a fox? However, this time the fox responded.

 “In return for your kindness, I shall give you good advice,” Reynata said, and told him about the inns at Crediton. “Spend the night at the Pheasant, and don’t go near the other.”

 John laughed. “With what I have in my purse, any respectable inn may be too dear for me. Forty pounds will be stretched thin if I need to go to London. But I shall try the Pheasant, since you recommend it.”

 “You will not be sorry.” All Reynata wanted was to keep him out of the Pair o’ Dice. “And don’t go on to Exeter in the morning,” she added. “Leave Crediton by the Tiverton road.”

 “Why not? All roads lead to London, and I don’t know where my brothers went, or where the firebird is.” He tipped his hat to her and rode on.

 Reynata and Tibb followed. Tibb kept John in sight, flapping from tree to tree along the way. Reynata had to make her way through fields and woods, by hill and dale, detouring around villages. She was tired by the time she reached the outskirts of Crediton.

 Though the days were growing shorter, John had set out early, so it was still light. Reynata did not dare enter the town until dusk. She found a deserted badger’s set dug into the rich red soil and slept for a while. Then, like a ruddy shadow in the rosy afterglow of sunset, she slipped through the back streets to the churchyard, where she had arranged to meet Tibb.

 Of course the rooks saw her. They flew up with a great racket from their roosts in the elms round about, and circled, cawing. No human heeded them. Rooks were always making a fuss about something.

 The great red sandstone church was much the same colour as Reynata’s coat, and there were plenty of buttresses to lurk behind, as well as the tombstones. Blending into the background as dusk darkened, she vanished from the rooks’ memory and they settled down at last.

 She waited anxiously, afraid John might have decided to go farther while daylight lasted.

 “Grawk?” A black shadow circled the church. “Grawk?”

 Reynata barked once. A sleepy rook roused and called an alarm, but the others disregarded it. Tibb swooped down to land on the head of a stone angel on a nearby tombstone.

 “No angel could possibly fly with wings like these here,” he said in disgust as Reynata joined him. “Well, our boy stopped at the Pheasant—stupid birds, pheasants, waiting around to get shot!—as instructed. Never so much as glanced at the Pair o’ Dice. T’others are still there, by the way, win a little, lose a little.”

 “Good. Did John get a room at a price he could afford?”

 “Miaow, the cat I gossiped with told me the landlady fell in love with his pretty face and gentlemanly ways, and his tales of firebirds and talking foxes, though she didn’t believe a word.”

 “Oh dear, I should have told him to keep quiet.”

 “Don’t fret, these townsfolk are all cynics. She thought him a travelling player. He asked if she’d cook a rabbit for him if he brought one, and she said he could have a free bed if he brought two, so he went out and bagged a couple on the common.”

 “I hope she doesn’t mean to...to corrupt his morals,” Reynata exclaimed.

 “Shouldn’t think so,” Tibb reassured her. “She’s as old as the mistress your great-gran, if she’s a day. And speaking of day, tomorrow’s going to be another tiring one. I’m going to roost.”

 “In the morning, I’ll wait for you on the Tiverton road, just outside town. If he goes off towards Exeter, come and tell me.”

 “Never a moment’s rest,” grumbled Tibb, and went to join the rooks.

 Reynata had no money for lodging, so she stayed in fox form and spent the night curled up in the badger’s set. Her sleep was troubled, haunted by dreams of her beloved shut up in a cage, forlornly calling her name. She had to save him.

 Before dawn she was stationed near the lane to Tiverton. Though quieter than the Exeter road, even so early it was busier than the lane where she had awaited the Drake brothers before. From where she lay hidden in a patch of bracken, she watch three farm carts and a herd of cattle pass by.

 At last she heard the sound of hooves with no accompanying creaking of wheels. A moment later, Tibb grawked from the hedge opposite. Reynata emerged to trot along beside John’s horse.

 “Good-day to you, sir.”

 “Well met, little fox! You were right, I did very well at the Pheasant.” John grinned. “What good advice have you for me today?”

 “I know where to find that which you seek.” She prayed it was true, that Sir Rex still held Lord Drake captive.

 “The firebird?” John cried, astonished. “Tell me, where is it?”

 “Let us journey together, and I shall show you.”

 “I’ll be glad of your company,” said the young man, so they travelled on together by hill and dale.

 Without giving away that she knew him, Reynata turned the conversation to Lord Drake. John told her the Earl had not wanted to let his eldest son go off to war. Aldwin was needed at home, to help run the estate. He ought to be setting up his nursery to provide the next generation, not gallivanting around in a fancy uniform.

 “Aldwin said Lord Wellington needs soldiers to stop Boney taking over all of Europe so that he’s invincible next time he decides to invade England. Father agreed, but he thought it was up to Damon and Basil, as younger sons, to volunteer. Of course they both refused. See them risking their precious skins!”

 “They are cowards?” Reynata asked.

 “Not when it comes to bullying those weaker than they are. Facing the Frenchies’ bullets is another matter. I’d go, but Father says I’m too young and ignorant, as though half the soldiers in the army aren’t younger than I!” John said indignantly. “Anyway, Aldwin insisted, and Father gave way in the end. The awful thing is, if he’s killed in battle, Damon will be the next earl.”

 Contemplating this dreadful prospect, they went on in silence for a while.

 “I don’t know why Aldwin suddenly decided to go a-soldiering,” John said with a sigh. “He never talked of it before.”

 Reynata’s heart sank. She held onto a hope that his departure was a long considered plan just coming to fruition. Now she was forced to believe he had seen her love in her eyes and fled rather than having to hurt her with a blunt rejection. It was her fault he was in desperate straits.

 She
must
rescue him.

 Whenever they came across other travellers, Reynata dodged out of sight behind the nearest hedge or wall, and she gave villages a wide berth. Thus she covered considerably more ground than her companion. By the time she had made a wide circle around Tiverton, which included swimming across the River Exe, she was growing weary.

 Finding shelter in a hazel thicket close to the Taunton road, she lay down to rest her tired limbs. Tibb found her there.

 “He’s on his way,” the raven croaked. “Stopped for a bite to eat in the town.”

 Reynata was hungry, ravenous in fact. She did not like to hunt and kill, let alone to eat raw meat. Luckily foxes were omnivores, so even on her fox days she ate well at home. Since setting out on this journey, she had had nothing but hips and haws from the hedges, and the odd tart, shrivelled crabapple.

 Remembering Cobnut, the dog-fox, she looked about for nuts. Squirrels had stripped most of them from the hazels where she hid, but a few lay on the ground among the yellow leaves. Their red-brown shells were just the colour of Cobnut’s fur. She cracked them with her teeth and crunched the meats in between talking to Tibb.