Milo and the Raging Chieftains (4 page)
Read Milo and the Raging Chieftains Online
Authors: Mary Arrigan
‘
N
ot hungry, Milo?’ Mum asked at dinner. ‘I made your favourite, shepherd’s pie with grated cheese. Have you been munching chocolate with Shane?’
‘No, Mum,’ I said, pushing my fork around the plate. ‘I’m just not really hungry.’
Luckily, Dad arrived before Mum could ask more questions.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said. ‘Bit of a crisis,’ he went on as he hung his coat on a chair. ‘Miss Lee is missing. We’ve been searching everywhere. Her car is outside her house. The driver’s door was open, and her school stuff was scattered along the footpath.’
‘Oh, that’s awful,’ said Mum. ‘She must have forgotten to lock it.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Dad went on. ‘It’s more than that. We’ve brought in extra gardaí to help the search. I’m going back later.’
‘Have you searched that stony place where the old cottages are, Dad?’ I asked. I didn’t want to let on where I’d been, but I was trying to give Dad a hint.
‘Good idea, son,’ said Dad. ‘I’ll get on to that before the sun goes down. Though I can’t think what Miss Lee would be doing
out in that desolate, stony place. Pass the ketchup, lad.’
‘Why is it so stony, Dad?’
‘Oh, those stones have been there for hundreds of years,’ said Dad. ‘First of all there was a castle there.’
‘Really?’ I exclaimed.
‘Yes. Oh, way back around the thirteen or fourteen hundreds. The town castle survived, but the other one fell into ruins. Perhaps its owners left because it was so far from the shops,’ he said, grinning.
‘Two castles just a few miles away from each other?’ I said. ‘That’s strange.’
‘Nothing was strange in those days,’ said Dad. ‘Anywhere you go in Ireland you’ll see ruined castles. The country is littered with them. If we knocked them down and used the stones, we could join up with the Great Wall of China.’
Sometimes I think my dad’s sense of humour is plugged into a different planet. But I made a decision. Shane was right – I needed to show Dad those shoes. When Dad and I had cleared the table, I waited until Mum went out to bring in clothes from the line, then I dashed down the hall to get the shoes. I shouldn’t have stopped for a wee, because by the time I’d washed my hands, I heard Dad call out to Mum and then the car starting up. I struggled out of the downstairs loo and ran down the hall, but the car was already gone. I felt a right idiot. I should have been upfront and told Dad everything. I thought about phoning him, but I was sure he’d be mad I hadn’t told him.
Later on, when I headed off to bed at nine o’clock, I lay there with my clothes on and waited for the town clock to chime ten thirty.
Worrying about Miss Lee and, worst of all, being scared of having to honour what Mister Lewis thought was my promise of help, I just wished I could pull the bedclothes over my head and not wake up until morning. But that wasn’t going to happen. I couldn’t let my old spooky friend down. I waited until I heard Mum snoring and slipped out through the living-room window.
A
t the bottom of Main Street my belly turned to jelly when the castle loomed eerily against the moon. There was nobody around the dim back entrance. I’d kind of hoped there might be lots of people walking past, or chatting at the gate and I’d have to go home. Or maybe the gate would be fixed and I couldn’t get in. But that would have
stamped me as a cowardly geek for the rest of my life.
I wheeled my bike through the narrow opening. The ordinary sounds of the town were cut off. The big courtyard was silent and the moon shadows scary.
‘Ah, Milo my boy,’ the comforting sound of Mister Lewis’s voice echoed across the courtyard. ‘We’re on the steps at the castle door,’ he went on.
Then two things happened. As Mister Lewis stood up, a gust of wind whipped his lopsided hat from his head.
‘Ah, me hat!’ he cried out.
‘Hey, Milo!’ another voice called out from behind me. It was Shane, wheeling his bike!
I was really glad to see him.
‘Look what blew into me,’ he shouted, waving Mister Lewis’s hat. ‘The Cat in The Hat,’ he said, laughing.
‘You followed me, Shane!’ I said.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You didn’t think I’d let you off on your own, did you? I knew you were scared about having to do something you didn’t want to do, so I watched from my window and followed. And here I am. What’s up?’
‘Thank you for retrieving my hat, young man,’ said Mister Lewis, wafting over.
‘Wow! How did you do that, Mister?’
‘Do what, boy?’ said Mister Lewis.
‘Your feet hardly touched the ground,’ said Shane.
‘I always walk like this,’ Mister Lewis replied sniffily.
‘Cool,’ said Shane. ‘Are you part of a circus?’
‘Shane!’ I put in. ‘This is
Mister Lewis
.’
‘Hi, Mister,’ said Shane. ‘So,’ he went on, turning to me. ‘What’s the crack? What are we doing here?’
‘Mister Lewis,’ I said again, slowly, nodding towards my very old friend.
‘I know. I heard you the first time.’ Then he turned to Mister Lewis. ‘The man who lived in the house where we live was called Mister Lewis too,’ said Shane.
‘Ah, that would be me,’ Mister Lewis said, putting his hat on.
‘No,’ said Shane. ‘That Mister Lewis died years and years ago.’
‘I did indeed,’ said Mister Lewis, smiling.
That’s when Shane slid in a heap to the ground.
‘
I
s this some sort of nightmare, Milo?’ Shane gasped, still sitting on the ground. ‘Tell me it is and that I’ll wake up in a minute.’
‘No nightmare, my boy,’ said Mister Lewis. ‘You caught me off my guard. Just think of me as a harmless old spook with a mission. Milo has come to help.’
‘That’s what I wanted to ask you, Mister Lewis,’ I put in. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘All in good time, Milo. All in good time. Besides,’ he added, ‘you have your friend now to help you.’
Well, that was no comfort at all – Shane can be a bit of a blunderer.
‘Now, let us all go inside,’ said Mister Lewis, pointing to the steps leading up to the big door of the castle.
‘Hey, Milo, we get to go inside and see all the work that’s been done? Cool,’ said Shane as he heaved himself up and brushed the dust off his behind.
‘Don’t you want to go home, Shane?’ I whispered. ‘Didn’t you hear? Mister Lewis is a ghost.’
‘Aw, that’s alright, Milo,’ he said. ‘If you’re OK with that, then I’m OK too.’
‘Park your bicycles, boys, and come along,’ Mister Lewis called out as he headed up the steps. Beyond the big outer door there
was an even bigger one that looked much older than the first door. There were weird carvings on it and stained glass with strange lettering.
Before putting his hand on the big handle with brass snakes on it, Mister Lewis turned and looked at us, talking in a ghostly-rattling breath.
‘Are you sure you want to come through?’ he asked, hesitating for a moment.
‘Of course we do,’ said Shane. ‘We’ve been dying to see inside, haven’t we, Milo?’
Not late at night. I thought. I didn’t say that, of course. I’d never live it down if I chickened out.
When we followed Mister Lewis through that inner door, both Shane and I gasped as a sort of warm breeze wrapped itself around us and there was a low sound that’s hard to describe. Think about the sound of a radio
when you fiddle with the controls – like, strange, muffled voices and bits of music all mixed up together. But once we were through the door, all that simply stopped.
‘Where’s the music and the people?’ asked Shane.
Mister Lewis shrugged his skinny shoulders. ‘I didn’t hear anything unusual.’
I looked to see if his ears were intact. They were. Maybe he was just used to strange sounds, being a ghost and all. Anyway, the sounds were gone. I figured some watchman had turned off the radio to have a nap.
The lights were on in the huge hall – not electric ones, just candles that sputtered in the breeze from the closing door. I thought it strange to have lights on at this hour, until I remembered that the great opening was in two days’ time, so they must be working late to make sure everything was totally finished.
‘Where is everyone?’ I asked.
‘Asleep, I’d say,’ replied Mister Lewis.
‘They sleep here?’ I said. ‘So, no rushing to get here on time in the morning. Cool thinking.’
‘Well, actually, Milo,’ began Mister Lewis. ‘There’s something I need to—’
‘Oh, wow!’ Shane interrupted, looking around the big hall. ‘This is awesome. And look at the heads stuck on the wall, Milo! Deer with huge antlers – you’d never get one of those animals into a horsebox!’
There were huge curtains hanging along the high walls, with stitched pictures on them of knights in armour, and fat women bursting out of long dresses.
‘Ah, you’re admiring the fine tapestries, Milo,’ said Mister Lewis. ‘I knew you were a cultured chap.’
‘Cultured? You?’ Shane sniggered in my
ear as we followed Mister Lewis into a big room. Sitting at a long table, his chin resting on his hands was Ossie, still looking grim and grumpy.
‘What are
they
doing here?’ he muttered. ‘Why have you brought them through the portal? They are strange and have bad clothing and peculiar hats.’
‘Hey, excuse me, Miss Fancy Pants,’ snorted Shane. ‘I paid a fortune for this jacket with my own money. It’s almost real leather. And these aren’t hats, they’re cycle helmets.’
I groaned. This was all I needed – NOT!
‘Hush, Shane,’ I whispered. ‘He’s a boy.’
Shane looked at me, his eyes out on stalks.
‘You’re kidding me,’ he said with a laugh.
I shook my head.
‘What kind of a place is this, Milo?’ Shane whispered. ‘It’s the middle of the night and we’re in the castle with a man wearing the
Cat’s Hat and a skinny guy who wears girl’s clothes. Please tell me I’m dreaming.’
‘No dream, boy,’ chuckled Mister Lewis. ‘No dream at all. We just have to go on, eh, an important mission, as it were.’
‘Cool,’ Shane said, thumping my arm. ‘If you’re up for it, Milo, then so am I.’
I sighed. No turning back now.
‘Wonderful. Come with me, boys, to the battlements,’ said Mister Lewis in a low voice. ‘And that means you too, Ossie.’
‘Osgur,’ the boy growled. ‘And I’m not going up there. It’s too cold.’
‘Yeah, yeah. Whatever,’ retorted Mister Lewis, winking at me, because I’d taught him some proper modern expressions on his last visit. Before we followed Mister Lewis up a winding stone stairs where fiery torches in iron brackets were lighting the way, he turned and put his finger to his lips.
‘Stay very quiet, boys,’ he whispered.
‘Why?’ asked Shane.
‘The night watch,’ Mister Lewis said softly.
Well, that was fair enough, I thought. It must be the most boring job. No wonder a watchman needs a radio and a nap. Now and then, we stopped to look out through the slotted openings.
‘This is awesome, Milo,’ whispered Shane, folding his arms against the cold breeze that blew in. ‘But why didn’t they put glass in those skinny little windows when they were doing up the castle?’
‘Those narrow slits are for the archers to shoot their arrows,’ said Mister Lewis.
‘Archers? Wow,’ said Shane. ‘This gets better and better, Milo.’
I have to say I didn’t share his enthusiasm. Where were we going, and what were we supposed to do?