Celandine (30 page)

‘Lift up the canvas, old man. Anything in there? See any fur?’

‘Shhh.’

‘Two hairs from a bear’s backside. One for you, one for me. Bring us luck when we’re soldiering, eh? One f’r you, one f’r me . . .’

‘Shhh.’

‘Don’t keep saying “shhh”. Make a feller nerv—
Good Lord!
What’s
that
thing?’

‘What? I can’t see what’s in there . . .’

‘Not in
there
. Over there – under the trees. See it?’

The feet moved back from the wagon a little. Una crept further into the shadow.

‘Where? Under what tr—? Oh . . .’

The feet were quite still now, and there was a long silence. Una could hear the giants breathing – uneven, panting slightly.

‘Is it ash . . . ash . . . ashl
eep
, you s’pose?’

‘Dunno. I ’spec they must sleep standing up. Like horses. Tell you what – I’ll keep an eye on it. You have another look in there, and I’ll jus’ . . . I’ll jus’ keep an eye . . .’

‘Right you are, then.’

One set of shiny black feet moved uncertainly back to the wagon.

Una heard the voice begin to mutter. ‘Aha! Steady does it, then. One f’r
you
 . . . and one . . . f’r
me
 . . .’ – and then it seemed as though the world had exploded. There was a low rumbling noise above her, a deep gurgling snarl, that burst into a roar so terrible her entire body was shaken by the thundering vibration of it. Una clung to the wet turf for an instant, cowering beneath the awful sound, but then her nerve broke altogether and she wriggled out from beneath the rocking wagon, squealing, with her hands covering her ears. Oblivious to whatever the Gorji might be doing, she scrambled to her feet and ran.

She ducked under two more wagons, banging one
of
her wings against a heavy wooden shaft, not caring, desperate only to escape.

The trees. If she could but find a low branch, she might be safe – anything, anywhere . . . Into the purple shadows of the elms she ran, as yet another dreadful roar made her instinctively turn her head. Then the darkness swallowed her up completely. Una stretched out her arms to save herself – too late – and blindly crashed into a tree-trunk.

No, not a tree-trunk. As she fell backwards with the impact, she heard a deep snort of alarm, a bellow of anger, and knew that she had stumbled against something warm and alive. This thing moved – and it was moving now, a massive bulk, swaying in the darkness above her, bigger than a Gorji wagon, bigger than the sky. Una scrambled to her knees, caught the sharp clink of metal upon metal and was suddenly whisked upwards – gasping as the earth shot away from her. Her wings spread automatically and she flapped them in panic, though the world was spinning head over heels. A thump that knocked the breath out of her and she was on her back in the mud again, momentarily helpless, but away from the elms at least, and away from the awful creature that was chained there in the darkness. She rolled over and over, terrified at how the very tree roots shook beneath her.

The shrill bellows of the trampling monster under the trees were even louder than the roars from the creature in the wagon – such a noise that Una could hardly keep her feet – and amid the roars and bellows
came
the baying of Gorji hounds, and the angry shouts of Gorji voices.

‘Who’s there?’

‘Isaac! That you? Flares – get the flares!’

Flickers of light appeared, flaming brands that threw long sinister shadows across the encampment, so that the leaping figures of the Gorji seemed to be everywhere.

More shouts:

‘Hold the dogs! Hold ’em, Reuben! A pound to a penny it’ll be some o’ they College boys larkin’ about – and we can’t afford to be killing the customers.’

‘College? Well, just let I get a sight of ’em, then. I’ll give ’em some larnin’ they’ll not forget.’

The hounds barked and yelped, demented with frustration at being held back from their quarry.

Una dodged between the wagons, anywhere to escape the mayhem, whimpering with terror. The hedge. She had to get away from this monstrous din and back to the hedge, where there was at least some chance of safety. She could see the long dark line of foliage, not so very far away, but the idea of covering that stretch of open ground was terrifying. Would they see her? There was no time to wonder – just run. A deep breath, and she broke cover, scampering across the moonlit grass and keeping as low as she could.

Almost immediately there was a horrible choking noise from somewhere behind her – a strangled yelp – and then a howl of triumph. They’d seen her! One of the hounds had seen her . . .

‘Towler!’ A shout, raw on the night air.
‘Damn
blast
the thing – he’s loose! Towler! Leave it! Leave it!’

Una dared not look. The hedge was dancing towards her, but not quickly enough. She would never be able to reach it in time, could never outrun the horror that was chasing her. The splatter of heavy paws and the eager panting breath – so near – drove her to one last effort. Just as it seemed that the thing must drag her down, she flapped her wings and rose clumsily at the hedge, heard the dreadful click of powerful jaws snapping around her legs, felt the rough brush of leaves against her toes, flapped once again, and she was over.

Over the hedge and the railing spikes she tumbled, exhausted . . . and landed straight into the lap of a giant. Too late she saw it coming – a glimpse of shiny black footwear, a huge upturned face – but there was not a thing that she could do about it. Her shoulder crumpled against the giant’s stomach, and she grabbed frantically at loose material, struggling to right herself.

The giant said ‘Oof!’, and one of his big arms knocked against her, so that she was sent spinning away from him. Una crashed into the railings, banging her head on one of the metal bars, and for a few moments was utterly helpless. The hound was barking and whining on the other side of the hedge, and the giant was struggling to sit up, but Una was unable to move for the deep dark pain in her head.

The Gorji appeared to slowly split himself into two, to grow another torso – an awful thing to behold – but then Una realized that there really were two of
them
after all, one of them appearing from behind the other. It was the same pair that she had been hiding from earlier. They must have clambered back over the hedge, and now
they
were hiding – sprawled out on the flat wet paving stone behind the railings, hoping not to be seen. Why could she not move? The hound had stopped barking. Perhaps it had gone away.

The blurry sound of a voice seemed to wake her.

‘Maurice, old man . . . can
you
see it as well? Or is it just me?’

‘No no no. I see it too. Do ass . . . assure you, John. See it perf’ly well . . . Must have escaped from the men . . . menajry. Zoo. Monkey of some sort.’

‘Don’t think it
is
a monkey, though.’

‘Nor do I, old chum. Perf’ly honest.’

The giants were both sitting up now, one leaning forward to peer unsteadily at her.

‘Tell you what, John . . . Make a dam’ fine mascot, eh? For the reg’ment.
Dam
’ fine – don’t you think?’

‘Agree with you, abshlutely. Better than some mangy old terrier.’

‘Shall we keep it?’

‘Got to catch it first.’

‘Tally-ho, then.’

The giants began to struggle to their feet, and the movement brought Una to her senses at last. She grasped one of the metal railings and pulled herself upright.

Along the opposite side of the road ran a wall, too high for her to scramble over, but there was a large
open
gateway set into the stonework, and beyond the gate she thought that she could see yew trees. Trees meant safety. After the horrors she had witnessed this night, these two stumbling ogres were not so very frightening, but she was dizzy with pain and as unsteady on her feet as the Gorji themselves.

As she pushed herself away from the railings, she heard one of the giants gasp in amazement.

‘My . . . my
God
, Maurice! Look at that! Do you see? It’s got . . . it’s got
wings
 . . .’

Una staggered out into the muddy roadway, slipped and almost fell, yet still managed to reach the wall before the Gorji had even stepped from the side path. Beneath the arched gateway and into the shadows beyond she crept, looking about her for a place to hide. She found no shortage – for there were large blocks of stone set in the grassy earth, row upon row of them in the moonlight, some tall and strangely carved, cross-shaped, some plain and squat like great caskets. Amid the rows of stones a curving pathway led towards a massive dwelling, dark and alone, with a tower that rose tall against the night sky. In such a place as this she could hide from a whole tribe of giants. There would be no need for her to fly up into one of the yew trees, and thus risk being seen. Una ducked down behind one of the cross-shaped stones, pressed a hand to her aching head, and waited.

The giants appeared in the gateway, their silhouettes swaying against one another. They began to move forward along the path, looking from side to side, crouching slightly with arms outstretched, as
though
in readiness to catch her. What crack-nogs they were, she thought. She would wait until they had passed her by, then slip back out through the gates. It would be simple enough. The edge of the settlement could not be so very far away, and the tribe would surely be on the lookout for her there. Una gently rubbed the side of her head, feeling the swelling where she had collided with the metal bars. Once she was returned to the tribe, she would be able to remedy her pain. Perhaps Maven might help her . . .

Then she remembered the Touchstone.

Her heart jumped at the thought. How could she have forgotten about it? And how could she now leave without it? She could not.

Somehow she would have to get it back.

The giants had left the pathway and were now creeping among the stones, still bent low and whispering to one another.

Una watched them as they lurched back and forth. There was little danger of her being caught, or even seen. The greater fear was that they should tire of searching for her and so leave this place. What would she do then? Follow them?

They had stopped. They were sitting on a step at the base of a tall cross-shaped object, talking. Una dodged from stone to stone, drawing closer. Their speech was loud enough now, but she could barely understand their words.

‘Gone to earth, old boy, I’m afraid.’

Una peeped from the shadows of a large stone carving. One of the giants was lying down on the step
beneath
the tall cross. The other was still sitting up.

Clanggg!
A huge metallic sound rang out in the night, and Una shrank backwards in fright. It was the tang – the same clamorous noise that they had heard from the bridge – but closer now. She looked up. The sound came from the high tower.
Clanggg!
Again. And again. She counted the times . . . ickri . . . dickri . . . dockri . . . That was it – no more. The sound echoed into the darkness, and died away.

‘John! John – get up!’

One of the giants was looking directly towards her.

‘Look, old man – there it
is
!’

‘Wha . . .?’

They’d seen her – one of them had. The giant that had been sitting was now standing, leaning forward, peering towards her hiding place. The other began to push himself upright.

‘What? Where?’

‘
There!
See it?’

Una quickly glanced about her, trying to decide which way to run, then turned back towards the giants. They were looking her way, but their eyes were raised slightly, not focused directly upon her. She was still in deep shadow behind the stone carving –
had
they seen her? The figures swayed closer, and now Una was certain that whatever they had spotted, it was not her, for one of them came to a sudden halt and said,

‘Maurice, you dam’ . . . fool. That’sh a ruddy angel.’

‘Eh?’

‘Itsh an
angel
– can’t you see? Stone thing . . .
marble
thing. Shtatue. Def’nitley not eshcaped from the zoo.’

‘D’you know . . . b’lieve you’re right. Angel, yes. ’S the wings, you see. The wings . . .’

‘Yes. The wings. Very pretty, all same.’

‘Very. Do you know, I’m ’bout done in, old man.’

‘Me too. We’ll sit down again, shall we?’

The giants staggered back to their step at the foot of the cross, and lay down. One of them yawned, and said, ‘Never mind, though. We got two hairs from a bear’s backside, didn’t we? Bring us luck, when we’re soldiering.’

‘Perf’ly honest, old man, don’t believe it
was
a bear.’

‘No? What, then?’

‘Tiger.’

‘Ah. Oh well. ’Night, old man.’

‘Night night.’

Una stood up and rubbed her shoulders, trying to warm herself. The giants had been still for a long while. Did they sleep?

She thought of the tribe – how they would be worried about her. They might perhaps even be searching for her. That would be dangerous. She could wait no longer.

On silent footsteps across the wet grass she ran towards the great stone cross. The two figures huddled beneath it were breathing heavily, eyes closed. Their faces, resting on the cold stone step, were level with hers. How helpless and foolish those faces looked, so
pale
and distorted in the moonlight. They were young, she realized. Giants they might be, but only lately full-grown. Long white wraps about their necks, they wore, grass-stained now, and torn. Their curious black footwear, so shiny when she had first seen it, had since become clagged and spattered with mud.

One of them had the Touchstone, had hidden it somewhere in his clothing. But which of them? And where would he hide it? Una stretched out a hand and gingerly touched a corner of dark material that hung over the side of the step, watching the eyes of the sleeping giants as she did so, lest one of them should suddenly wake. There was no reaction, and so she grew bolder, lifting the corner of material, and gently letting it fall again. A tiny clink of sound resulted from this movement. Still the giants slept on.