Rules of the Hunt

Rules of the Hunt Hugh McCracken

BeWrite Books, UK www.bewrite.net

Published internationally by BeWrite Books, UK. 363 Badminton Road, Nibley, Bristol. BS37 5JF. © Hugh McCracken 2002 The right of Hugh McCracken to be identified as the author has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. The right of Hugh McCracken to be recognised as the sole author is further asserted in accordance with international copyright agreements, laws and statutes. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 1-904224-54-7 Digitally produced by BeWrite Books, UK. Also available in paperback from www.bewrite.net This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s consent in any form other than this current form and without a similar condition being imposed upon a subsequent purchaser. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the permission of the publisher, BeWrite Books, UK. This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between characters in its pages and persons living or dead is unintentional and co-incidental. The author and publishers recognise and respect any trademarks included in this work by introducing such registered titles either in italics or with a capital letter. Exclusive cover art and illustrations by Alan Geldard

The rules were simple … “On the morning of The Hunt, they have a mass, then the quarry is let go, one at a time. None of those hunted is allowed to take any weapons with them. At high noon, the Duke and the hunters set out. The Hunt lasts till noon the next day. Anyone who survives uncaught is free and pardoned. Those caught are either killed during capture, or put to death before sundown.” The problem for the bewildered school friends from the 21st Century, who’d found themselves plunged into the savage Medieval days of Braveheart, was … nobody had told them The Rules of The Hunt.

Hugh McCracken has lived in Canada since 1967 with wife, Lyn. They have two sons and three grandchildren and, for thirteen years, he was principal of a junior/senior high school. The family and workplace experiences might account for Hugh’s magic touch when it comes to stories for children and young adults and a rare ability to introduce historical fact so subtly the reader hardly realises he’s being educated as he’s entertained.

Also available by Hugh McCracken: Ring of Stone, BeWrite Books 2002 Kevin and the Time Drum, Electric eBooks 2001

To the generations of students who provided inspiration for the characters in this novel.

RULES OF THE HUNT

CHAPTER ONE

“Yeough.” Davey struck again. He’d promised me the bit under the fence would be dry, but my knees felt cold. Wet, slimy mud seeped through my jeans. Aunt Ina would be sure to see it and chew me out, even if she didn’t know I’d sneaked out. I stood, looked around, shivering though the midAugust night air on this Scottish island wasn’t really cold. The chain link fence I’d crawled under should have been right behind me, but wasn’t. The orange glow of the street lamps was gone. Near midnight, the wood was thicker, spookier than in the afternoon. It was light enough to read a newspaper, but the brilliant moonlight only made the shadows inkier. A figure straight out of my nightmares lurched from those dark caves. Its head glowed green. A hideous gash ran across the forehead. An eye dangled from the left socket. Black blood ran down to a fang at the right side of a twisted, leering mouth. The hair on the back of my neck bristled. When I turned to run, my toe caught on a root. I fell on my face. A hand clutched at my arm. I almost peed myself. My tongue was glued to the top of my mouth. “Good, eh, Pete?” Davey said. “I wore this last Halloween.” 9

RULES OF THE HUNT “Yeah, great. I knew it was you all along, you know. I was just stringing you along.” I hoped Davey wouldn’t hear the quaver in my voice. A shriek shredded the air. We jumped. “That’ll be Mike trying to scare us ... I bet ... I hope,” Davey said, moving closer to me. He peeled off his mask, stuffed it into his pocket, and glanced round. “Where’s the fence?” He spun. “All the lights are out.” A second scream came out of the dark, then cut off as if switched. “Let’s get to the grove,” I said. “The sooner we meet Mike and the others, the sooner we can split and get out the heck out of here.” “Which way?” “You’re the local yokel. You tell me.” Spiky gorse bushes clutched at our clothes. Finally we stepped clear, but not onto a neat path. A huge man stood grinning at us. “The gamie. Run, Pete!” Davey shouted. Before we could move more than a step, the man — he had to be the gamekeeper — grabbed us from behind. His thumb and second finger almost met in front of my neck. Even with both hands, I couldn’t pry them loose. He pushed us in front of him at first, through more gorse and thorn. Then he snatched us up. Tucking one under each arm, he almost trotted, before dropping us at the edge of a clearing. “Kneel there.” Mike, Colin, and Keith were already there. They knelt, staring at a man hanging upside down from a tree branch. His back was criss-crossed with bleeding stripes. 10

HUGH McCRACKEN Another man, dressed in a mid-calf-length, blue bathrobe, watched another blow fall, but the hanging man didn’t even twitch. His hands dangled, lifeless. “Try some fire under him,” Blue-Bathrobe said. He turned to us. “What have we here, Huntmaster?” Our captor bowed. “New players, My Lord?” The lord strolled towards us.

It wasn’t a bathrobe. It was a tunic. I’d seen drawings of men dressed like that in history books. I stared straight ahead, my eyes at the level of his broad leather belt. A second, slightly thinner girdle sagged to one side where a heavy-looking sword hung. He placed the end of his riding crop under my chin making me look up. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end again. For a short time, we looked into each other’s eyes. I felt I knew this man. He shrugged then pointed at Colin. “Peel this one for me.” Two men grabbed Colin. They ignored his protests, stripping him quickly. His lordship examined Colin’s jacket, his T-shirt, 11

RULES OF THE HUNT jeans and runners with a frown before he dropped them and turned to study the boy. When he took his captive’s wrist, Colin struggled. The lord peered at both sides of the hands. “Curious how pale it is.” When Colin kicked and wriggled again, one soldier put an arm round his neck. He snapped the head back, and Colin slumped to the ground. “Stand him up,” the lord ordered. Both soldiers bent to pick Colin up. The one who had held him by the neck trembled when he straightened. “He’s dead, My Lord.” The riding crop slashed across the man’s face and he flinched back. “It was an accident, My Lord. His neck …” The second slash opened the cheek and blood spurted. Davey promptly threw up. My stomach knotted. It seemed too elaborate to be a game. Too many grown ups involved for that. And the blood was too real. His lordship glared at us, still kneeling in a row. Then, with a shrug, he turned away. “My Lord?” The Huntmaster waved his hand at us. Over his shoulder, his lordship said, “Turn them loose. We may hunt them later if there is no more robust game, but I fear it would be like spearing fish in a barrel.” “Go then,” the Huntmaster said. Davey was last in line. A large hand smacked his rump. “You heard My Lord. Run!” My final glimpse was of the man as we had first seen him, hands on hips, his face split by a grin. 12

CHAPTER TWO

We ran. The gorse, bramble, and thorn of the brush caught at us, snagging our clothes, but we ran. Where was our wood of tidy, well-kept gravel paths, of civilised shrubbery, of park benches? We stopped, gasping for breath. At another shriek, we ran again. When I skidded to a stop, everyone else crashed into me. “What the heck?” Mike shook me off as I clung to him, while my feet scrabbled to push back from the edge of a rock outcrop topping a drop to a stony beach. He walked right up to the edge and peered over, with us clustered round him. “God, did ye see that man hingin’ upside doon?” Keith whispered, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. Davey shuddered. “Do you think Colin’s dead?” I shivered. “Yes, of course he is. It could have been any of us. It still could if we don’t get the heck out of here.” Davey was corpse-white even after our run. Keith’s face, which never looked really clean at the best of times, was tear-streaked and he snuffled. I swallowed hard. Maybe I’d feel better if I could throw up, I thought. 13

RULES OF THE HUNT Mike looked at us, cleared his throat noisily, and spat. “We don’t have time to cry. Down the cliff.” “It hardly qualifies as a cliff,” I said. “It’s not much more than twelve feet.” “Measured it, have you, Prof? Save your breath. Get down.” I hated being called Prof, even if I did read a lot, but I’d no breath to argue. On the beach, we gawked round us. “Right, Prof,” Mike said. “What do your books say now?” “I was right,” I said. “We shouldn’t have gone into the wood tonight.” “Aye, Mike,” Keith said. “Whit about it? Ye said the gamie tellin’ us the wood was haunted today wis jist a story tae scare kids.” “Some story,” Davey said. “Gramps was right. The wood is haunted. That’s why they close it on this day every year. People do vanish. We have. Where are we?” Mike peered at the scenery, scratching his head. “Oh, we’re still on the island. Look. That’s the mainland over there. The dark hump is the small island off the main shipping channel, but the marker buoys are gone.” He turned slowly, looking less sure of himself. “The lighthouse on the point isn’t there. If it was only out, we should still see the whitewash shine in the moonlight.” “Ye said there wouldnae be a moon,” Keith said. “There wasn’t when I came into the wood.” Davey sounded frightened. “What does that all matter now?” Mike said. “You 14

HUGH McCRACKEN kids shut up. Let me think.” “Hey, who are you calling kids? You’re only fourteen like Pete. I’ll be fourteen next birthday.” “You were only thirteen last week, Davey,” I said. Keith laughed and stuck out his tongue. “Cut out the clowning,” I went on. “Colin’s dead. We’re stuck here — heaven only knows how. If that lord or his men catch us we’ll end up like Colin — dead.” Mike nodded. “Maybe we’d not be as lucky as Colin. Remember the man on tree being whipped?” Davey and Keith looked as if they might cry again. If they did, I might not be far behind them. I swallowed. We had to get off this topic. “Mike, the bit about the moon is important. It shows something has happened to time. We’re not at the same time as we were. Does anyone remember a rock face like the one we just came down in our time?” Davey nodded. “There’s a bit of cliff that could be it at the paddling pool. Keith and I have played on it often enough.” “Naw. We’d hae tae come ow’r the road and the prom tae get there frae the wood.” Keith’s accent grated on me. It was one of the few things both Davey’s mother and Aunt Ina agreed on. Keith was common and not a suitable chum, even if he was in Davey’s class at school. Mike sounded almost English, but he’d been away at boarding school, hadn’t he? Mike’s firm voice ended the debate. “We are standing in the paddling pool, or where it should be. The road and the prom simply aren’t there, any more 15

RULES OF THE HUNT than the pool is. We know where we are. We’re still on the island, but when are we, Prof?” “The name’s Pete. I’ve seen drawings of the kind of tunic the lord was wearing in books about the time of the Norman Conquest. The way the soldiers were dressed too, and the Huntmaster. That would make it after 1066 or maybe eleven hundred and something ...” “Will this be on the test?” Davey said. Keith giggled when I glared. “If this is way back then, wouldnae they talk funny?” Keith said. “Ah understood them okay.” “They never had any trouble on Star Wars,” Davey said. “Everyone understood everybody else.” “Aye, dummy, think we’re in some stupid film? We’re no. Like the Prof says this is fur real.” Keith ducked as Davey swung at him. “Cut it out, you two,” I said. “Is the language bit any odder than us being here at all?” Keith shrugged. “Whit noo?” “Well, the annual haunt is noon till noon, isn’t it?” I said. “That’s when they close the wood.” “So?” “So maybe at noon tomorrow we’ll simply snap back, like Cinderella at midnight.” “Ye’ll be a pumpkin again, Davey.” Keith dodged behind me to put me between him and Davey. “I wonder if Colin will get back with us,” I said. Keith’s eyes glistened with tears. Davey stopped his pursuit, his face pale again. Colin’s death was so sudden, it still didn’t seem real. “Right, Prof,” Mike said. “Enough chat. Let’s do something. We can worry about theory later. I don’t 16

HUGH McCRACKEN fancy meeting that lord character again. He did say he might want to hunt us. We should hide out till noon tomorrow.” “Where?” “We’ll go along the beach, away from town. The tide is on the turn. If we walk just above low water, as it comes in it’ll cover our footprints, and any dogs the hunters have can’t track us.” We trudged along in single file following Mike for nearly two miles till we came to a small stream. “Here we are, boys,” Mike said. “Take off your shoes and socks. Walk up this burn. There’s this real big rock outcrop a bit inland with brush on top. We can hide out there.” On top, bushes grew all round the edge of an almost circular flat area of bare rock. We would be invisible to anyone at the base. “How did you know about this?” I asked. “I guessed,” Mike grinned. “It’s still there in our time, exactly like this. Behind the old Taylor place. Between there and the golf course. The burn runs in a culvert under the road.” He took my arm and walked us over to the bushes at the edge. “What happens now, Prof?” “Stop calling me Prof for a start. My name’s Pete.” “Davey calls you …” “Not to my face he doesn’t.” Mike chuckled. “He’s a lot smaller than me.” He squatted on his heels, something I’ve never been able to do comfortably. “Do you really think we’ll go back at noon?” I shrugged. “We can hope.” 17

RULES OF THE HUNT “Suppose we don’t. Any brilliant ideas?” “We don’t even know when this is for sure. Even if we did, I don’t know much Scottish history.” “That’s right, I forgot. Even if you don’t sound much like it, you’re a Yank.” “I am not. My mother’s family comes from this island, as far back as there are records. Davey’s Grandpa says so.” “Whatever. Have you done any scouting, wilderness camping, the like?” “No ... I camped with Mom and Dad in the Rockies once.” “Tent? Backpack?” Mike sounded hopeful. “No ... we had a motor home.” Mike snorted. “You lot will be as much use as a chocolate fireguard. We better hope we do snap back tomorrow. Let’s huddle with the two kids. At least we can keep warm — warmer than Colin.” I felt sick again. Was Mike really as practical minded as he seemed? Or was it just a front — like Davey and Keith clowning — to hide just how scared he was. A way to keep his mind off the reality of our situation? “I won’t sleep,” I said. “If I do I’ll have bad dreams.” “Nobody’s asking you to sleep, Prof, but it’s getting colder. We’ll be warmer huddled like pups. But please yourself.” Mike walked back the centre where Davey and Keith sat, heads together. “Over to the edge, you two. The bushes will give us a bit of shelter. Right, lie down. Face to face.” Keith grumbled and Mike kicked him. 18

HUGH McCRACKEN “I learned this on a wilderness survival course at school. Put your hands between you.” Mike took off his parka, lay down behind Keith, wriggled close, and pulled the parka over them. “Are you going to freeze by yourself, Prof?” I followed Mike’s example and squeezed close to Davey. It was a bit warmer. Davey shivered. I could feel his chest quiver as if he was trying not to cry. “Right.” Mike gripped my wrists and pulled, scrunching us up together. Keith giggled. “Hey, Davey, watch where ye’re puttin’ yer hauns.” This is hopeless. It’s going to be a darned long night, but Mike’s right. It is warmer.

19

CHAPTER THREE

At dawn, I stirred. I wondered what had happened to my cosy bed, and why Davey was stuck closer to me than a second skin. It wasn’t a dream then. We were on the rock. My hip ached and, when I moved, so did my shoulder. “Awake, Prof?” Mike whispered. Davey squirmed. “I’ve got to pee.” “Wait a minute,” I said. “Where, Mike? Peeing upstream will pollute our water supply if we have to stay. Downstream from the rock?” “Good thinking, Prof. See you pee right into the burn, Davey, so any scent a dog could track gets carried down to the sea.” “When you two are finished debating,” Davey said. I tickled him. He squealed. “Don’t, Pete. I’ll go in my pants.” Back on the rock, Keith said, “Ah’m hungry.” Davey nodded. “Me too.” “You lot stay close,” Mike said. “Find small, dry sticks that’ll make a fire without much smoke.” It didn’t take long to collect a sizeable pile of twigs and carry them back to the rock. “Did Mike want them lit?” Davey said. “Whit wi’?” Keith laughed. “Unless ye’ve got 20

HUGH McCRACKEN matches.” “If we’d a pair of specs we could focus the sun’s rays ...” “For Heaven’s sake, Davey,” I said. “We don’t. Anyway the sun’s barely up.” Keith guffawed, winking at me. Davey sat cross-legged then started to rub two lengths of stick together. “Ah’ll get us some dry grass,” Keith said. “We’ll need that anyway.” I moved over to where I could watch the approach to our rock up the stream. There I sat with my arms wrapped round my knees, thinking. If Mike hadn’t dared us to sneak into the wood after dark ... If Mom had taken me back to the States with her after the holiday in Scotland ... If Mom and Dad weren’t splitting up ... If Davey and I had turned tail after the first scream — or was it already too late even then? What had happened to us? It was crazy to think we’d gone back in time, but Colin was dead. I shuddered at the memory. Even sleeping rough, we’d all been too exhausted even for nightmares. But it could have been Davey or me. I wish we’d listened to the other kids. The wood was — is? — haunted. It was a long time before Mike came back with a brace of skinned rabbits and clambered up to join us. He produced matches in a little oilskin package. He grinned. “Strike anywhere.” Soon we had a small, hot, smokeless fire going. The rabbit was good, although I wouldn’t eat rabbit when Aunt Ina served it. We lay back round the fire. Mike let us add a few more twigs. 21

RULES OF THE HUNT “How did you manage the rabbit?” I said. “I’ve got a snare with me.” Mike smiled. “I always have, and a catapult.” “Mike, can you find the bit of the wood where we met the lord last night,” I said. “Sure. I think so. Why?” “We should be there at noon. Just in case.” “Right.” Mike reckoned it was still well before noon when he led us into the clearing. It was the same one, all right. The man still hung upside down from his tree, the dead embers of fire under his dangling hands. Colin’s clothes lay in a heap where the lord had dropped them. Colin lay curled up as if asleep. Davey and Keith wouldn’t go anyplace near him, and I wasn’t too keen. Mike knelt and touched him. “He’s dead, alright. Fetch me his jacket.” Mike draped the jacket over Colin’s head, and said, “Crows.” The other two sat huddled at the far side of the grove, silent for once. Keith knuckled his eyes. Davey had the look of someone desperately trying to think of something else … anything except what was actually happening. “How will we know when it’s noon?” Davey said. Mike moved to a patch of sunlight, took out a Swiss Army knife, and dug a small hole. He jammed a straight piece of wood in it and wedged it upright with stones. With the blade of the knife he scratched a mark in the dirt at the end of the shadow. “Keith, Davey. Come here. Watch the shadow. When it stops getting shorter, that’s noon. When it starts getting longer, it’s past noon.” 22

HUGH McCRACKEN The two kids squatted. Their eyes fixed on the shadow. Mike and I moved to the far side of the clearing. He kicked at the dirt. “The shadow will give us sun time, you know,” I said. “Isn’t the island on British Summer Time?” Mike snorted. “Wake up, Prof. You said we were way back in time. When did people go off sun time?” I shrugged and we stood, silent. “This isn’t going to work,” Mike said, finally. “Colin’s as dead as those two rabbits we ate.” My stomach turned somersaults. Did Mike have to be so darned practical? “We’re stuck here.” Mike said. “Maybe we’ll only have to stay till the haunt next year.” “There aren’t any stories about people appearing in the wood, you know, only about them disappearing.” “If we go back from here, we’d be disappearing, wouldn’t we?” Mike laughed. “It’s time,” Davey shouted. “The shadow’s barely moved.” We stayed motionless for a long time. I had my eyes shut. “It must be well past noon now,” Mike said. “That’s it. We’re stuck here.” Reluctantly, I opened my eyes. “We’ve nothing to dig with.” Mike glanced round. “Anyway the ground looks pretty hard. We’ll take Colin back to the beach and build a cairn for him.” “Ah’m no touchin’ him.” Keith backed off and Davey 23

RULES OF THE HUNT went with him. “It’s still Colin,” Mike said to their retreating backs. “We’re not leaving him here.” I moved to help Mike and touched Colin’s cold ankles. “I’m going to be sick.” When I came back from behind some bushes, Keith and Davey were already heading back to the beach. “What about his clothes?” I said. “Leave them. He sure doesn’t need them now and they won’t fit any of us. Are you going to help or not?” Mike said. I nodded. “Get him up onto my shoulder, fireman’s carry. I’ll take it from there.” The feel of the head and shoulders through the jacket made me want to throw up again. I had to scurry back behind the bushes before I trotted after Mike. On the beach, we picked a spot well above high tide. We lifted stones until we had a shallow depression big enough to lay him in before starting to cover him. Once he couldn’t be seen, Keith and Davey helped pile more stones over him. “Anybody know any prayers?” Mike said. Keith and Davey shook their heads. I rattled off the words of committal in a low voice, my face on fire, before making the sign of the cross. When I learned the service, as an altar boy, I didn’t expect ever to say it over a friend. We stood on either side of the grave in silence, Davey and Keith openly crying. I felt my own eyes fill with tears. Mike cleared his throat noisily. “Right. That’s it. Let’s get out of here. Up to the rock.” At our camp, Mike counted his matches twice. He 24

HUGH McCRACKEN frowned before he relit the fire. To my surprise, I was hungry and could easily have eaten more than my share of what was left of the rabbits. “What have we then?” Mike made us empty our pockets, dividing our stuff into two piles: useful junk and useless junk. There wasn’t much in the useful pile: Mike’s catapult, the snare, his Swiss Army knife, my Swiss Army knife, Mike’s remaining matches. We sat in a glum silence. After a long time I said, “We’ll get home for sure next haunt.” I hoped I sounded more convinced than I felt. “A whole year.” Davey chewed his lower lip. Keith pushed out his lower lip, nodding. “Aye, a whole year.” “If we live that long,” Mike scowled. “I don’t fancy our chances if that lord character gets hold of us.” “Could we live oot? Like campin’?” Keith said. “Maybe. There’s plenty of small game: rabbit, hare, hedgehog, birds ...” “We can fish,” Davey said. Mike nodded. “We’d need other clothes. Something to make fire, my matches won’t last. Knives, a splash net or a line.” He cracked his knuckles. “Might be okay at that. What say, Prof? Do your books have anything to offer?” I bit back an angry reply. Mike was half a head taller than me and solid. “Doesn’t it get pretty cold in the winter? Don’t you get snow and frost here?” “Yeah, but if we find a cave, we can hole up for the worst of it. With a fire it wouldn’t be too bad. We can 25

RULES OF THE HUNT huddle like we did last night.” Keith giggled and Mike cuffed him. “While we still have daylight,” I said, “we should scout around a bit. Perhaps see what’s where the town should be.” “That’s a great idea.” Mike bounced to his feet. “Let’s do a recce. We’ll go down to the beach and follow the coast towards town.” “I don’t remember electing you boss,” Davey said. Before I could move, Davey was on his back with Mike astride him, fists clenched and raised. “Okay, okay. You’re the boss.” Mike grunted, started to rise, but Davey added, “But only ’cos you’re biggest.” Davey’s breath whooshed out of him when Mike sat back down hard, giving him one hard, backhanded blow.

As we made our way along the beach, Keith and Davey cast wary looks at Mike, keeping their distance. “Don’t get too far behind, you two,” Mike called. “Be ready to run for cover in the forest if I shout.” We rounded the point and stopped. “Wow, look at the castle,” Keith said. “The town’s tiny.” Davey stared open-mouthed. “Most of the town we know is built in the estuary,” I said. “It silted up over the centuries. The castle now … then … whatever, in our time, is a good half-mile inland.” “It sure isn’t now, Prof. Where’d you learn all that stuff?” 26

HUGH McCRACKEN “In the library.” “You know, beside the Council Offices, the place with books ...” Davey stepped smartly back out of Mike’s reach. “What about clothes and supplies? Any ideas, Prof?” “Maybe we could steal some after dark.” “Won’t this place be shut up tighter than a drum after dark?” “Right, Mike. We go at dusk then. Do you still have your mask, Davey?” “Sure. Why?” “Mike and I are going haunting tonight.” The two kids and I trudged back to our camp while Mike tried for more rabbit. At dusk, Mike and I were at the edge of the town. When Mike pulled on the mask, saying, “How do I look?” I shuddered. It looked just as frightful as the first time. “Fine. A haunting we will go.” The first man we saw barely glanced at me. When he saw Mike, he shrieked, dropped his bundle, and ran. There were open stalls all the way down a narrow street. Most people ran or dropped to their knees crossing themselves. We scooped up what we could from the street stalls and fled before the locals mustered the courage to tackle us. “Know anything about shock, Prof?” Mike said on our way back along the beach. I shook my head, but realised with the moon now behind clouds Mike couldn’t see me in the dusk. “No, 27

RULES OF THE HUNT not really. Why?” “I think we’re all in shock right now. They taught us something about it at the survival course. I hope you’re not going to fall apart on me when those two start bawling. They will, you know. Just as soon as the novelty wears off and it sinks in we’re here for keeps.” Great, if they start, I thought, I’ll not be far behind. This isn’t my idea of fun. It was fully dark when we got back to the rock. Davey was crying. “Whit the hell kept ye two?” Keith said. “Cry-baby here thought ye were goners like Colin.” “You were crying too.” Davey scowled at him. Keith rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, smearing even more dirt over his cheeks. “Was not.” “Look, we’re all upset,” I said. “Let’s not snap at each other. Let’s talk about it. Mom always says that helps. She’s a psychologist, you know.” “Will talking get us home?” Davey asked. “What’s to talk about?” Mike said. “Share out a loaf, Prof. Do something useful for a change. We’re here, we don’t know how or why. We don’t know how to get back. We’ve got to make the best of it. Nattering on endlessly isn’t going to help.” I sniffed. “Talking about it once isn’t endless discussion.” “Oh, shut up, Prof.” I broke up a loaf and shared it out. “We can check out what we’ve got in the morning,” Mike mumbled through a mouthful of bread. “Bed down now. If you dig out a bit of a hollow for your hip bone, you’ll find it a bit more comfortable.” 28

HUGH McCRACKEN “How do you do that on rock?” Davey said. “Round the edge near the bushes, where we slept last night, there’s dirt. Try there.” Davey and Keith scratched at the dirt, squabbling, but finally lay down. With me behind Davey and Mike behind Keith again, Davey whispered, “I’m scared, Pete.” I whispered back, “Me too.” “Whit’s to be scared o’?” Keith said. “This is grand. Twa nights in a row Ah dinnae get beat up on by Da or ma brithers. Hey, Mike, watch where ye put yer hauns.”

29

CHAPTER FOUR

We’d made a fair haul the night before. Mike had his flint and stone, and we each had a knife. I sorted out the clothes we’d stolen. “How do we wear this gear, Prof?” Mike asked. I stripped and picked up a pair of breeches. “These things like boxer shorts go on first. No elastic, I’m afraid. A drawstring, like in pyjamas, holds them up.” “Ah’ve never had pyjamas,” Keith said. “The shirt goes next.” I slipped one over my head and wriggled the collar-less garment down. “Now the tunic. It goes over your head too and hangs to about your knees. You can adjust the hang a bit, with a rope tied round your waist.” I demonstrated then drew on a pair of soft slip-on boots. Keith guffawed. “Ye look a proper berk. A girl whit’s fallen aff a rubbish lorry. Ah’m no dressing like a fairy. Ah’m fine the way Ah am.” Mike cuffed Keith’s ear. “We’d be spotted as strangers at first glance. Get dressed.” “How do you know all this rubbish?” Davey said. “I’ve read about clothes like these, and we had a play at school that had stuff like this in it.” I scratched. “The material wasn’t as rough or itchy then.” That darned drama coach. “Authenticity,” he said, “that’s the ticket. Really live the part. Come on, Peter 30

HUGH McCRACKEN Macdonald, strip off, and get into it. Nobody’s interested in your equipment.” Keith and Mike had stripped, following my example, and were nearly dressed. Davey had put on the shirt and tunic before taking off his jeans. I grinned. Obviously he hadn’t been to high school yet, I thought, with gang showers. He’d die at my boarding school. I nearly did at first. “Hey. There isn’t another pair of those trouser things,” Davey wailed. “Well, the tunic hangs down to your knees,” I said. Keith laughed. “It disnae matter for ye, Davey. Yer Walter Thomas is so sma’, naebody will notice e’en withoot yer shorts on.” Davey threw himself at Keith. Mike separated them, and shook both roughly. “Pack it in, you two. We have enough problems.” “Luckily we got four pairs of boots,” I said. “Most kids at this time would be barefoot, I think.” “How did ye know our sizes?” Keith asked. “They’re loose slip-ons, nut-case,” I said. “We didn’t exactly have much time to shop around did we? We grabbed what we could and ran. Anyway, there were only three sizes: big, medium, and small.” “Quite happy now, Keith?” Mike said. “We all look proper berks. That’s stupid clots, idiots, to you, Yank.” I bit back a rude answer. “What now?” I said. “Wrap your stuff in your parka and tie the arms together. Divvy up the other stuff. We can carry it in those blanket-cloak things you’ve got if you tie the four corners together.” 31

RULES OF THE HUNT “Why are we leavin’?” Keith asked. “Whit’s wrong wi’ right here?” “Once they’re over their fright, the townies might come looking for their things,” Mike said. “If the lord hears of it, he might come for us. Fancy that?” When Davey bent over to pick up his clothing, Keith flipped up his tunic and shirt with a stick. “Aw, no fair. He’s still got his jockeys on.” Davey dropped everything and ran after Keith, but again Mike grabbed them and this time banged their heads together. “Enough!” “Ye’re a right sour puss, Mike,” Keith said. “It was jist a bit o’ fun.” We visited Colin’s cairn on the beach before we left, and added one more stone each. Keith ran off, openly crying, managing to smear even more dirt onto his face as the back of his hand scrubbed across his cheeks. Mike ran after him and put an arm round his shoulders. Davey and I followed slowly after them, both silent, both close to tears. I wasn’t sure who my tears were for. Colin had been a classmate of Davey’s. I hadn’t really known him well. Mike was trying to keep us busy and to jolly us along, but I wanted to go home. Keith had been the most upset about Colin, but the prospect of a year on the island at this time almost seemed to please him. Past the curve in the shoreline that took us into the next bay, out of sight of the cairn, we dropped our packs. We jumped about on the beach playing tag until, exhausted, we sat on boulders and giggled at each other. “Everybody feeling better?” Mike said. “It’s always 32

HUGH McCRACKEN like that after a funeral. Just be glad we’re alive and remember we want to stay that way.” We picked up our bundles of belongings and started our journey North.

33

CHAPTER FIVE

“In our time,” Davey said, as we tramped, “there’s another little town sheltered in the next bay. It was a fishing village in Grandpa’s day. I wonder if there’s anything there now.” Rounding the point, at first we saw nothing. “Look,” I said, “there are some buildings right up against the edge of the forest.” “They don’t look like much, do they?” Davey said. “Only lean-to shacks. Oh lord, do you smell what I smell?” His nose twitching like a retriever’s, his head in the air, Davey tried to find the source of the smell. We all caught the scent and Keith said, in a voice I’d more often heard the priest use for solemn pronouncements in church, “Kippers! Oh God, It’s kippers. Smoked herring. Ah’m starvin’.” I laughed. “The thing like an A-frame over there, at the edge of the beach, I bet that’s a fish drying shed. Let’s get some.” “Whoa. Not so fast,” Mike said as we started to run to the shed. “Pete, you sneak down there and take what you can carry. Davey and Keith, go ahead into the wood and wait. Take our sacks, so the Prof and I can run if we need to. I’ll stay here and watch for any movement from the village. Prof, if you hear me 34

HUGH McCRACKEN whistle, get the heck out of there.” I made it to the shed unseen. My mouth watered at the smell of the smokies. I stuffed fish after fish into the sack I found there. When I joined the others in the wood, we gorged ourselves. “You know, I didn’t used to like kippers,” Davey said. “When Mum served them, I never ate them, but, oh boy, those were good!” Our day’s march brought us within sight of the narrows, where the mainland seemed only a stone’s throw from the island. “Can we get ow’r?” Keith said. “No, in our time, it’s deep enough for the big ferries at high tide,” Mike said. “The currents are very strong, in different directions, depending on the tide and wind. Anyway, why should we go over? We’re better off here, I know this island. If we’ve any chance of getting home, I think it’ll be from the island. Right, Prof?” “Yes. I think we’ll have to be in the bit of the forest where we crossed over the time barrier or whatever it was, during the next hunt. That’s our only chance. Should we go on farther down the beach, Mike? It looks pretty bleak and open to me.” “No, we’ll go right up to the narrows tomorrow then overland from there. We can skirt along the edge of the wood across to the other side of the island. Beyond the narrows it’s pretty well all exposed rock. Even now I don’t think it’ll be forested so it’ll be easier going in the open. We can see anyone coming, but we can fade into the forest if we need to.” “How big is this island anyway?” I asked. Mike shrugged. “About thirty-five to forty miles long 35

RULES OF THE HUNT and about fifteen miles across at its widest.” That night on the edge of the beach, sheltered on one side by a blanket stretched across a low branch, we lounged round a small fire. “What was that?” Davey said, when we heard an animal noise, then a shriek, an unearthly shriek of terror and pain. We huddled together. “A weasel or a stoat with a rabbit most like,” Mike said. “Sounds awful, doesn’t it?” “Will there be wolves on the island now, Mike?” Davey asked and shivered. “I don’t know, but there are bound to be wildcats, there are still some on the island in our time. Let’s bed down for the night.”

36

CHAPTER SIX

Next morning, Mike dumped a brace of rabbits at my feet. “Skin and clean these.” “Oh, I couldn’t,” I said. “I don’t know how.” “Okay, I’ll do one. Watch this time. Then you do the other.” He squatted on his heels. When he cut off the paws, I dashed behind some bushes. I shuffled back to Mike hoping he’d be finished. “Right? Next, you slit up the belly and … oh no, not again.” Before I went back to him this time, I stopped at the stream, splashed some cold water on my face, and gargled to get the bad taste out of my mouth. “You look worse than the rabbit. Ready this time?” Mike said. “I can’t.” “Fine. You and Davey don’t eat. When you’re hungry enough, you catch, you kill, you clean, you cook, then you eat.” Davey watched and licked his lips, while Mike cooked the rabbits. He and Keith ate. My mouth filled too, but it was bitter. On the second day, Davey gave way to hunger and, though he didn’t make a very good job of it, he 37

RULES OF THE HUNT butchered the day’s kill well enough for Mike to let him eat. By the fourth day, I had eaten only berries and felt I could eat a horse … if someone else butchered it for me first. Davey watched out of the corner of his eye that evening and snuck over with a piece of rabbit under his tunic. Boy, did it ever taste good. I savoured every bite and was sucking the bone when Mike jumped Davey. “You little turkey!” Mike pounded Davey, who tried to shield his face with his arms. “I told you. He gets nothing till he can do it himself.” “Hey, leave Davey alone,” I said. “If you have a beef with anyone it’s with me.” Mike pushed Davey’s arms aside and gave him one final hard slap. He got to his feet slowly, stepped over Davey, and turned to face me. “Right,” he said. I had to go back eight hundred years only to meet another bully! I launched myself at Mike. Bitter experience at boarding school in the States had taught me one thing. If you’re going to get pounded anyway, you may as well attack first. A pre-emptive strike discouraged some bullies, and at least got you sympathy if not support from the other small kids. My first flurry of blows obviously surprised Mike, but in short order I was on the ground with Mike on top of me. He held my arms above my head. “I could whale the tar out of you. You know that,” he said. “But that’s not my bag. Pick up your gear and split. You and Davey. I don’t have time for passengers.” 38

HUGH McCRACKEN This was not what I expected, but I didn’t argue. Davey and I collected our few possessions then stood, uncertain what to do next. “Find yourself another camp. Davey, you can hunt and cook for Lord Fauntleroy.” We wandered off until we could no longer see the fire before I threw my stuff down. “Thanks, Pete.” Davey said. I glared at him. I was in no mood for sarcasm. “No, I mean it, Pete. Mike was really going to dust me. I know you don’t like to fight.” We lay in the dark in our blanket and I worried. Next morning Davey vanished, only to reappear later with a rabbit. “This was in my snare,” he said, and looked at my collection of berries. “Are you going to eat it raw?” “No, I’m going to show you how to skin and clean. Come on. Sure it’s yeoughy, but you’ll starve if you don’t.” I followed Davey’s instructions and managed to prepare the rabbit without throwing up. “Now what?” I said. “I’m not eating it like this.” This is how a dog that’s been beaten feels crawling back on its belly, I thought, when we stood beside Mike at his fire. “What do you two want?” Mike said. I held out our rabbit. He took it and handed me an un-skinned, un-cleaned replacement. “Let’s see you do it.” Under his watchful eye, I repeated the process, swallowing hard. 39

RULES OF THE HUNT “Keith, you and Davey cook these,” Mike said. “The Prof and I have to talk.” Out of sight of the other two, he stuck out his hand. “No hard feelings?” I shook his hand and mumbled: “No, but I won’t be able to eat those.” “Yes you will, even if I have to ram it down your throat while those two hold you.” He grinned. “Don’t feel too bad. Dad made me skin my first rabbit when I was seven. I couldn’t eat rabbit afterwards for a year, but we have to, or starve. Dad says ...” Mike stopped. His eyes clouded for an instant and he frowned. “Dad said never kill anything you don’t mean to eat, or that isn’t about to kill or eat you.” After that I caught, skinned, cleaned, and cooked in my turn with the others. Luckily for us, September and early October were mild. It got colder at night as time passed, but huddled in pairs now under our cloak-blankets we could keep fairly warm. The worst times were when it rained. A downpour we could avoid, but a steady drizzle soaked everything. On such wet days, we squatted or lay around the small fire Mike allowed us under the overhang protecting the entrance of a small cave. Then, we argued endlessly about how we got into this predicament, how we could possibly understand the people of so long ago, if they would understand us when we spoke, and always whether we would ever get back home. When we did go out, Mike insisted on nothing more than a breechcloth. “Ah’ll freeze ma balls off,” Keith said first time. 40

HUGH McCRACKEN “You’ll catch pneumonia if your clothes get soaked and you let them dry on you.” Mike said. “Mike’s right,” I said. “The Indians in America caught pneumonia and pleurisy after they started wearing white man’s clothes.” “All of them?” Davey said. “No, numbskull, but enough for someone to write it up.” “And for you to read it.” There was plenty of small game: rabbit, hare, and small birds were there for the taking. And we fished. Mike found berries for us, but as October advanced these became scarce and we had to move camp every few days to a new area. Davey and Keith spent most of their waking hours foraging and became quite expert at hitting their prey with Mike’s catapult. The island, away from the town, was even less populated than in our time. The few times we saw anyone, we hid in case a report of our sighting would bring the lord and his Huntmaster.

41

CHAPTER SEVEN

Berries were now becoming very scarce. We had to range farther every day. After an unsuccessful forage, we crouched over our fire and munched day-old, cold rabbit. “It’s a good job we have this, at least,” Mike said. Davey got to his knees, eyes shut, nose twitching, sniffing gently. “Whit’s up, Davey?” Keith said. “Did somebody fart?” “I thought I smelled stew. Lamb stew.” “You’re dreaming.” Mike whacked Davey’s rump with a branch he’d been peeling. “Anyway, it’s too late for lamb.” “Naw,” Keith said. “Ah smelt it tae, when the breeze blows. It’s upwind.” We doused our fire. With Davey and Keith at point, we moved. Before long, I could smell the stew. The hill fell away to a hollow. The mouth-watering smell was coming from a small hut at the far side. “Can we take a sheep?” Davey said. “We could have roast mutton.” “We could be hanged too,” I said. “As late as the eighteen hundreds they hanged sheep-stealers.” “Maybe they might have a bit of carcass hanging under the overhang.” Mike licked his lips and 42

HUGH McCRACKEN swallowed noisily. “If they’re stewing some, there must be more.” We stashed our packs behind the dike. “I’ll go across the pen and check the far side,” Davey said. Close to the hut, we could hear voices inside. I couldn’t have spoken if I’d wanted to, nearly choking on my own saliva. Dogs growled and a voice inside the hut said: “What’s bothering the dogs? Let them loose, Jamie.” The hut door opened. Two snarling, barking dogs bounded out, hackles up, teeth bared. In seconds, they had us cornered in the angle between the walls of the hut and the sheep pen. “What’s all the fuss, Jamie?” the man said. A boy peered at us. “It’s three men, Grandfather.” A man and a woman stepped out of the hut. The man snatched up a shepherd’s crook. “Who are you? What are you doing skulking about in the dark?” “They’re but youths, Samuel,” the woman said. “Beardless boys.” “Throw down your knives. Get them, Jamie.” Keith moved too fast and a dog nipped him. “Down, dogs, down. Leave be.” Growling, the dogs backed off, but lay watching us, heads on paws. “One of you?” Samuel pointed to the pen. “Stealing a sheep?” In the moonlight, Davey stood in the centre of the pen facing a ram. Davey took one step to the side, the 43

RULES OF THE HUNT ram angled to face him; Davey took one step back, the ram advanced one step; Davey stepped forward and the ram charged. The thump of the ram’s horns on Davey’s ribs made me wince. Davey lay looking at the ram. The ram, head cocked to one side, watched him. Davey struggled to his feet, and the dance started again. “Nay, Samuel. Look at him. He’s but a boy. A boy who doesn’t know sheep at that. Jamie, go and chase the old ram back to his ewes and bring the boy here.” Inside, a tall man, bearded and roughly dressed, turned to look at us. It was crowded with all of us in the hut. At one end, a cast iron pot hung from a tripod over a fire burning in an open stone hearth. There was a rough plank table with two backless benches and one chair. Rushes covered the earthen floor. “I am Samuel. This is my wife Martha, my grandson Jamie and ...” Samuel glanced at the other man and I thought he nodded ever so slightly. “... Andrew of the Forest.” Mike named the troop, and we each said, “hello.” Inside the hut, the smell of the stew was overpowering. I swallowed almost continuously. Davey gaped at the stew pot. His tongue flickered across his lips. Keith, even when we were introduced, hadn’t shifted his gaze from the pot. “We can spare some stew, Samuel,” Martha said. “Sit then.” Samuel waved his hands at one bench. “Andrew.” He pointed to the only chair. “No, Samuel. Not in your own house,” Andrew said. However, he took the chair when Samuel sat at the end of one bench. 44

HUGH McCRACKEN Jamie placed wooden bowls before us all and Martha doled out a measure of stew each. “There are fresh bannocks too, Jamie. Place them on the table,” Martha said. We wolfed down the stew. Nothing had tasted this good for ages. We hadn’t had bread since leaving our rock. After cleaning the last of the gravy from his bowl with a piece of bannock, Keith sat back a little from the table and grinned. With a loud burp, he said, “Oh man, that wis grand!” Andrew hadn’t taken his eyes off me, after a quick glance at the others and a slightly longer study of Davey. I blushed. What was wrong? Oh Lord, what was he staring at? It was like the trick at school when you all stare at someone’s fly until they absolutely have to check if it’s undone. But it couldn’t be that. Not dressed like this. The man at the clearing, the lord, that was who Andrew looked like. Not dressed anything like as finely or as well trimmed. He was a bit shaggy, in fact. I finally met his stare and tried not to blink. As with the lord, I felt I knew this man. For some reason, it seemed important not to look away. The lord’s eyes had frightened me, but though Andrew’s eyes bored right into me, his were stern, not cruel. When I thought I would have to turn away or blink, Andrew nodded as if satisfied about something. “You boys are not islanders,” he said. “There have been no runaway ’prentices posted in town.” “We are not Offislanders.” Davey sounded offended at the very suggestion. Mike glanced at me. I nodded. I flushed; aware Andrew had seen and noted the 45

RULES OF THE HUNT exchange. “We are from this island,” Mike said. “It has changed.” “You are the new players who appeared at the hunt?” Andrew pulled at his beard. “Some enchantment brought us here,” I said. “Why would you be brought here? You know no one and no one knows you. Sent here perhaps? Some witch, some warlock your family offended?” Andrew studied us. Again he stared at me then Davey, then back to me again and tugged his beard. “You may have the right of it after all, young master, brought, not sent, but by whom, and for what?” He gazed at the table in front of him, stroking his right ear. “We are not young masters, Andrew,” I said. What was Andrew getting at? Why the study of Davey and me? It was a puzzle with parts missing. Samuel had been speaking. “The peddler tells some wondrous tales. He says five new young players appeared at the hunt. That one died and the Duke set free the others, a thing unheard of before, after one boy put the eye on him.” “The tinker who mends the pots,” Martha said, “says the townsfolk think them demons or warlocks.” Samuel frowned at her. “Some say the one who died was sacrificed by the others. Sacrificed to gain the power to escape, to become invisible and thus avoid the hunt.” Keith and Davey looked at each other, horror plain on their faces. A tear trickled down Davey’s cheek. 46

HUGH McCRACKEN Samuel leaned forward and with a forefinger, lifted the tear. “Could a demon weep for a victim?” He put the finger to his mouth. “Weep salt tears? Is such possible?” We sat in silence. “The tinker told of a fearsome demon,” Samuel started again. “An apparition that walked the town the night after the hunt. A living dead man.” All four of us burst out laughing. Samuel and Martha frowned at each other. Andrew stared at me again. “That was us,” I choked. “Davey, show him the mask.” Davey pulled the mask from the pouch at his waist, and put it on. Samuel and Martha gasped and crossed themselves. Jamie hid his eyes. Andrew, after a brief glance, turned back to me. Taking the mask off, Davey held it out to Samuel. He crossed himself again, and, with thumb and forefinger only, passed the mask to Andrew. With both hands, Andrew pulled at the stretchy rubber. He sniffed at it then handed it back to Davey. “This has never been part of a living creature,” Andrew said. Samuel crossed himself yet again. “Such a demon skin must be a very valuable possession, and surely only a most potent warlock could possess and control such a thing. Your pardon, master.” Samuel bowed slightly to Davey. “I naturally thought the most potent warlock would occupy the oldest and strongest body.” I laughed, and cuffed Davey, at which Samuel cringed. Andrew, for the first time, smiled and nodded. 47

RULES OF THE HUNT “Don’t get too big a head, master, or the mask won’t go over it. It’s not like that, Samuel. Such a mask is a child’s toy in our time ... I mean land.” Eyes round, Samuel nodded. “I see, you must be potent warlocks indeed if it was necessary to banish you to another land or … another time.” He stopped, scratched his head, and frowned. After a short silence, he chortled, tapped his index finger against the side of his nose, then waved it in front of him. “Ah ha. You were not banished. You are sent, are come to destroy the Duke and his evil Huntmaster. You will meet him in combat at the next hunt and vanquish him.” All four of us sat open mouthed. I for one wouldn’t have dreamed of telling such a tale. Samuel peered at each of us in turn, and turned to his wife and Andrew with a smile. “I see I am right. They are astounded at the wisdom of a simple shepherd.” “Why would such beings come as simple beardless youths?” Martha said. “Would a warlock of such power allow a ram to floor him?” Andrew had been turning his head from speaker to speaker like a spectator at a tennis match. Now, he gazed at me. “Perhaps to test the mettle of those we would aid,” I said. “How would he who would not help a simple child differ from the Duke? Who is worse? He who kills and tortures, or he who stands aside in holy horror but does nothing to prevent the deed?” “But, as my good wife says, to come without your powers? To come helpless as children?” Samuel said. “Would the test be fair if we could duck out by using 48

HUGH McCRACKEN our magical powers, whenever danger loomed?” Andrew looked as if he were keeping score. Samuel nodded and Martha, lips pursed, after a pause inclined her head. I reached out, broke off eight pieces of bannock, and placed a morsel before each of us. I then put a tiny pinch of salt on each piece of bannock. Samuel had watched me closely and now smiled. Andrew, Samuel, Martha, and Jamie all crossed themselves having eaten the bannock. I quickly followed suit. The other three, a little more slowly and clumsily, did so also. Samuel relaxed. However, he still seemed pleased when Andrew said, “I’ll sleep with the boys in the shelter at the corner of the pen. Come, lads. Let us leave these good folks to their rest.” Outside, Andrew turned quickly and grabbed my wrists. He felt both sides of my hands, and peered at them in the moonlight. “These were not used to common living,” he said. “A wondrous tale, if true.” He turned me to face the moonlight and examined every feature of my face, then stared into my eyes. “Your speech is understandable, but with an odd accent. Your hair has been barbered within the last six months.” He squatted on his heels and studied Mike and me while Davey and Keith went to fetch our packs. His eyes had the blank look of someone whose mind was elsewhere, deep in thought. With a sigh, he shook himself and stood. “Sleep here tonight. Stay in this region for a while. I will send my son for you. We must find shelter for you before the frosts of deep winter.” 49

RULES OF THE HUNT He turned and faded into the night. “What was that all about?” Mike scratched his head and I shrugged. “That was quite a speech.” “Yeah, even for you,” Davey said. “I hardly recognised you.” “Are ye gonna be a preacher?” Keith laughed. “It was from the play I told you about. We had to learn the lines till I was sick of them. I only rearranged some bits.” “What was the deal with the bannock and salt?” Davey asked. “Oh, I read somewhere, at one time if you broke bread and shared salt with someone you could not betray each other. It was like you were family.” “Well, it pleased Samuel anyway,” Davey said. At night on the packed earth, Davey was restless because of his bruises and I got little peace. When I did sleep, I saw Andrew’s face fading into the lord’s face followed by a third, younger face I couldn’t place. A boy lay stretched on his back on a sort of table. The scene shimmered so I couldn’t see clearly, but a hand did something to the boy and he shrieked. I sat up. I was very grateful when the first, cold light of dawn appeared.

50

CHAPTER EIGHT

Back at our own camp by midmorning next day, I suggested we hunt then take some of our catch to Samuel and Martha to repay them for the meal. Davey and Keith said they would go to the beach to collect shellfish and perhaps fish a little for something more substantial. Hours later, shortly before dusk of the short November day, Mike and I got back with our catch. Davey practically leapt on us as we walked up to our camp. “Quick. Oh, come quick. Keith’s caught by the tide. We were down on the bay beach. It was a real low tide. Keith walked out, way out, into the bay. I went along the beach. He didn’t notice the tide turn. You know how quick it floods in over the bay. I heard him shout. He was on an island. Every direction he tried, it got deep quickly, and the tide kept coming in. Please hurry.” By this time we almost at the beach. “There he is. The water’s right up past his waist,” Davey said. “What can we do? I can’t swim at all.” “Keith, listen. Don’t panic,” I shouted. “I’ll come out.” “Can you swim, Prof? I can’t,” Mike said. “Why the heck can’t any of you swim? Oh never mind for now. Yes, I can swim. Well enough to get out there anyway. How much higher will the tide come?” 51

RULES OF THE HUNT Mike looked round at the beach and the rocks. “Probably only up to Keith’s chin. Why?”

“There’s no way I can bring him back, especially if he panics. But I can stand out there on the ridge with him.” I stripped off and waded out as far as I could. When I reached the deep channel, I swam till I could stand beside Keith. “Mike says we’re almost at high tide. I can’t swim you back, I flunked the life-saving bit, but we can stand here till it’s low enough to wade back.” We stood close together. With my arm round Keith’s shoulder and his arm round my waist, we faced the shore. “Build a fire, Mike,” I shouted. “We’re okay here, but it sure is cold.” By the time the tide reached Keith’s chin and my shoulder, Keith was frightened. “I thought ye said it wouldnae come much higher.” He chittered. “At least it’s calm,” I said. “If it wasn’t, we’d really have problems.” 52

HUGH McCRACKEN The sea continued to inch up, reaching Keith’s mouth. “Keith, climb on my back, piggyback style. The water will take most of your weight, so I should be able to hold you for a while. The tide must turn soon.” Keith locked his ankles in front of me, and clung round my neck, while I clasped my hands behind me, under his rump. We stayed so for an endless time. “It hasn’t come up any further. I think ... I hope we’re at high tide,” I said. “It’s on the turn,” Mike’s voice came out of the darkness. “I’ve been marking the water line and the last two have been moving out.” Slowly, oh so slowly, the water started to go down. Finally, Keith could stand on his own again, his head clear of the water. It had been cold before, but now as the tide went down and our upper bodies were exposed to the slight breeze, we really felt it. “We can’t stay out here till low tide. We’ll both die of cold.” I said. “But ye said ye’d failed water rescue. Ah’m frightened.” “Okay, then, squat down so only our heads are clear; it’ll be warmer that way. I’m a bit taller than you; when the water’s down to my waist, we’ll try to wade out. If it gets too deep for you, we’ll try piggybacking you again.” Every now and then, I stood to check the depth. Each time it was colder. Finally, I decided we had to risk it. “Let’s try now,” I said. “If we wait much longer, I don’t know if we can make it.” 53

RULES OF THE HUNT I shouted to Mike, explaining what we were going to do. Hand-in-hand, Keith and I waded towards the beach. It shelved very quickly and soon the water was up to Keith’s shoulders. “Okay, up you get. We’ll try a bit farther.” A few steps on, and the water was up to my chin. Mike had waded out from the shore, and was now midchest deep about the breadth of our school swimming pool away. “I’ll try a few more steps, Prof. Just stand still.” When he’d closed to about half the distance, Mike and I were both chin deep. “Keith, slide down my back, but keep your arms round my neck. I’m going to try and swim this last bit. It isn’t far. We’ll die of cold for sure if we stay here much longer.” I kicked off, and, knowing I wasn’t a strong swimmer, I tried desperately to cover the distance as fast as possible. With Keith clutching convulsively at my neck, I could scarcely breathe. I felt myself going under. A hand clutched my hair and I wondered what Keith was up to now. “Let go Keith. Let go of the Prof. Christ, let go. I’ve got you,” Mike shouted. I put my feet down and touched ground. I’d made it. Back on shore, Keith and I trembled violently, chilled to the marrow. Mike threw a blanket over me. “Strip, Keith. Quick. Get those wet clothes off. Davey, help him. Now, into this blanket with the Prof.” Mike had a fire built on the beach and he made Keith and I lie wrapped in the blanket, close to the fire. “While you two were out bathing, we’ve been 54

HUGH McCRACKEN heating stones. Davey and I will pack them round outside the blanket, and keep heating more to change.” Mike kicked Keith’s side of the blanket. “Hey, Keith. Rub, don’t go to sleep. Rub, it’ll warm both of you. Don’t you dare go to sleep. Davey, come here. Feel for a foot in the blanket and start rubbing. Don’t worry, whoever it is won’t be ticklish. When it tickles, we can stop.” Davey and Michael worked steadily, rubbing legs and feet through the blanket, keeping the fire stoked and the hot stones moving. My clothes were, of course, dry. I’d stripped before going in, but Keith’s steamed gently on the other side of the fire. Eventually, the mutual body heat and the efforts of Mike and Davey on our legs brought us back to something approaching normal circulation and body temperature. Now we’d finally stopped shivering and I could think of something else apart from the prospect of freezing to death. I was horribly aware that Keith and I, both naked, were crushed together under the blanket. Keith wriggled, froze to immobility for an instant, then he relaxed again and giggled. “Yer thing is gettin’ stiff.” I pulled back. “Mike, can you get my clothes and see if Keith’s are dry yet. I think we’ll live. Is there anything to eat?” Seated round the dying fire on the beach, Keith huddled into the blankets, his clothes still not yet dry. He looked small, weak, and forlorn until he grinned. “Want to come back under the blanket with me?” My stomach knotted with a mixture of anger and relief. 55

RULES OF THE HUNT “That was stupid. Why can’t any of you swim?” I said. “All the kids I know at home can swim some and even I can swim that far.” “Yeah, in nice warm pools,” Mike said. “The sea is different. You felt how cold it was. It’s never much warmer even on a hot summer’s day. The only swimming pool on the island’s been closed for years.” “My Da says a fisherman’s best no knowin’ how tae swim,” Keith said. “If ye fa’ aff a trawler in the North Sea, ye’re better tae droon quick than freeze slow.” “Some fisher folk won’t ship with someone who can swim. It’s bad luck,” Mike said and Keith nodded. “Now the danger’s past, Keith,” Mike said, “I could kill you. I know how Mum and Dad felt when my cousin and I went fishing and lost our oars. It was midnight before the lifeboat found us. Mum and Dad were so pleased to see me; it was all hugs and kisses … at first. Then I got an earful and Dad grounded me for days.” “Ye’re no goin’ tae whack me,” Keith said, half assertion, half question. “No,” I said, “but I know exactly what Mike means. You could have been killed out there. So could I or Mike. Let’s leave it now, but learn. God, Mike’s right, I could kill you, but I’m too tired to bother. Let’s get some sleep. It’s been a long night. I’ll kill you tomorrow instead.” Davey and I lay close to the fire. Keith still had both blankets. “I was really scared back there,” Davey said. “Are you still mad at Keith? You jumped out of the blanket as if the devil himself was after you. What was up?” “Nothing, Davey, just shut up and get some sleep.” 56

HUGH McCRACKEN But I didn’t sleep. Lately I’d been getting a hard-on at all sorts of embarrassing times for no reason. It didn’t mean anything except that I was growing up. The books Dad gave me said so. It was only the body preparing itself, practising for adulthood, but you’d think things could be better organised than to have it practise at embarrassing times. Like standing up in class to read, like talking about girls, like talking to girls, like right now with Keith. What if Keith told the others? What if he started to make his loudmouthed jokes about it? We stayed close to each other for the next few days after Keith’s adventure. Hunting and fishing were done as a group in sight of or least within earshot of, each other. After a particularly good day’s hunt, we visited Samuel and Martha to trade some of our catch for bannock and oatmeal. Martha insisted we stay and share an evening meal. Stuffed after supper, we told Samuel and Martha of our adventure in the bay. I even managed to make it sound funny in parts. Jamie laughed heartily. Martha frowned, her lips pursed. “Aye, Master Keith could well have died out there. He’d not be the first and likely not the last, though most folk have enough sense to watch the tide.” I thought her reaction was not what I would have expected from an adult of our own time. She was concerned about our safety and health, but shrugged off the closeness of danger and death for all, even youngsters like us, with an offhandedness that would have chilled and horrified my parents. 57

RULES OF THE HUNT Martha accepted our gift of rabbit and hare for the pot, but glared at the naked forms that hung from our twisted grass loop. “Where are the skins?” I shrugged. “We buried then away from our camp in case they attracted wildcat or something.” “Stupid boys! Those skins fetch good money at market.” Samuel cleared his throat noisily and shook his head. “Warlocks they may be, Samuel, but in this, they’re gormless, beardless boys.” Martha scowled and Davey stepped back out of her reach. “Everyone knows how to dress skins. Jamie, show the masters how it’s done.” We all filed out after Jamie to a brace of un-skinned rabbits that lay on top of the drystone dike, one of those intricate, sturdy walls of cleverly placed stones and pebbles that criss-crossed the island and most of the mainland even in our own time.

58

CHAPTER NINE

It was fully a week after our meeting with Andrew when his son appeared. Andrew’s son, Walter, was a tall, thin, surly-looking youth. Having found us, he announced himself and said, “Pa says you’re to come with me.” He gobbled down the rabbit and bannock we offered him while we scrambled to collect our packs. Walter kept a stiff pace along a well-marked trail while we trotted after him. “Drove trail,” he said, when I asked. “Goes to t’other side of t’island and to town for market.” After we’d walked for ages, it got really dark and we pulled off the trail to sleep. At first light, Walter was on the move again. When we first arrived, none of us, except perhaps Mike, could have kept this up all day. Davey had been quite chubby. Now, although you could count his ribs when he was stripped, he was slender and wiry rather than thin and had good, well-muscled legs. Keith didn’t seem much different. A thin, narrow, fox-terrier face, like a wound-up clock spring even when resting. His arms and legs all knobbly bones. No fat on him. Mike still had the most robust appearance. Bigger than any of us, with a solid compact build. I’d lost the flab that used to embarrass me at gym and swimming. Boy, 59

RULES OF THE HUNT cross-country would’ve been a snap, and I wouldn’t have been such a patsy for the locker room bullies. “Hey, Bozo,” Keith said. “Ye sleepin’? We’re turnin’ off.” We’d been travelling roughly East, maybe closer to Southeast. We turned North on the new trail. It was much narrower in this direction. Men on horseback could travel it, but in single file, and they’d have to lead their mounts in one or two places. After some time, we turned onto an even narrower track that led to an open space with a hut like Joseph’s at the far end. Two mounted men were about the middle of the clearing. Keith shouted, “Horses, soldiers. It’s a trap.” We were too slow in making up our minds to run. One horseman spurred his horse and got between us and our trail. Thick gorse and thorn blocked the forest on either side. We started to run to a path we could see on the far side. Two men on foot with pikes blocked us and herded us towards the hut. Andrew stood impassively at the hut door with a woman and two girls beside him. A soldier came out of the hut with a side of meat on his shoulder. “There’s a whole beast in there, Captain,” he said. Walter groaned. The horseman who had not moved, shifted in his saddle. “Well, Andrew of the Forest, you eat of My Lord’s venison. You must pay the price. Stir up the fire and heat the iron.” Two of the men-at-arms forced Andrew to his knees. A third took a handful of hair and twisted Andrew’s face to present his left cheek to the branding 60

HUGH McCRACKEN iron. The stench of burning hair and singeing flesh filled the air. I felt sick, but Andrew gave no more than a deep groan and climbed unsteadily to his feet when released. The woman watched in silence, an arm round each sobbing girl. “Do we brand the boys too, Captain?” Davey pressed back against me, his muscles tense. “No. Beat them. This time.” Two men grabbed Davey and pulled him face down over a fallen tree. A third bent over him to pull his tunic and shirt up. Davey was quiet for the first few strokes, but soon bellowed lustily. Walter’s lips curled in a derisive sneer but, when he too was beaten after Davey and Keith, he shouted as loudly as they did. I shook, waiting my turn. Davey’s tunic showed bloody stripes across the back. He and Keith clung to each other weeping. At last, it was over. I stood trying not to shake and to stop my lip from trembling. “Take the meat and the bow and arrows. Remember Andrew, next time we will hang one of your brats. You will join the hunt anyway.” With a mock salute, the horseman who had never dismounted turned his horse to follow his men onto the forest trail. Walter turned on us. “You brought this on us. A curse on you.” “No, Walter. We took the deer. You hung it in the house. Nothing changes. Woman, have you grease for my face and their backs?” “Pa, if I hadn’t been off getting them, and you busy 61

RULES OF THE HUNT in the town on their business, I’d have hidden the meat like always.” “Enough, Walter.” Walter opened his mouth again and Andrew hit him backhanded across the face. “Enough, I say.” He waved his hand at the woman. “This is my wife, Janet, my daughters Mary and Margaret. Walter, you have already met.” The woman and the girls bobbed and we nodded, each giving his name. Nothing else seemed to be expected. Janet handed Mike an earthen jar with a cloth cover tied to it. From a second she dipped some greasy stuff that she smeared on Andrew’s burnt cheek. We withdrew to the other end of the clearing. Mike sniffed cautiously at the contents of our pot. “I don’t know this is such a hot idea. What do you think, Prof?” Beside the hut, Janet smoothed the grease over the bleeding stripes on Walter’s back. “Let’s check out each other’s backs and try some on any bits that are bleeding. We’ve nothing clean to wash the stripes with anyway.” When I checked Davey out, I found he wasn’t actually cut or torn. Blood was sort of oozing out of the welts and the grease did seem to stop the bleeding. Davey was right. It did feel better with the grease on, but I hoped no one would go septic. Septicaemia was fatal in this time, or at least I thought I remembered reading that. No antibiotics to fight the infection. “Did ye see how far down Davey’s back Pete had 62

HUGH McCRACKEN his hand, Mike? Did ye like it, Davey?” I felt my face burn. “Shut up, Keith.” “A joke, Prof. Lighten up,” Mike grinned, wriggled his shoulders and grimaced. “And I thought the prefects at the boarding school Dad sent me to for the last two years were bad enough with their canes. Have you ever been beaten before, Prof?” “Dad sent me to a military prep school in the States. He thought I needed toughening up. Until I went there I’d never even been spanked by my Dad.” Keith snorted derisively. “Ah got hammered any time Da or ma brithers felt like it.” “At the school,” I went on, “there was no corporal punishment … officially. Unofficially, senior cadets used table tennis bats and running shoes to discipline snotty juniors and one cadet major had a dog whip. But even that was nothing to this.” At night, the dream came back. Andrew’s face, with the lord’s eyes, watched hands hurt a boy tied face up on a table. I woke up sweating. Davey tossed and turned and moaned in his sleep. My back burned. What did the dream mean? Could we trust Andrew? The morning after our beating, we sat outside Andrew’s hut. “Andrew, yesterday the man who gave the orders said you would join the hunt,” I said. “What did he mean?” “Every year the Duke has a special hunt — a manhunt. On that day, those who have broken some of the Duke’s laws are sent from the town without weapons as the quarry. From noon that day till noon the next, the Duke and his men hunt them like animals. 63

RULES OF THE HUNT Those captured are killed. Those not captured by noon are free.” “At Samuel’s place you said we were new players. The Huntmaster used the same words,” I said. “What does that mean?” “Some years, strangers — Offislanders — have appeared unexpectedly during the Hunt. They have always been oddly dressed. Till now none have survived the Hunt.” And the Hunt is when the wood in our time is haunted, I thought. Closed from noon one day till noon the next. “The Hunt is a long time off,” Andrew said. “In the meantime ... the miller upstream from the castle will take two of you, the tanner on the North edge of town another, and the smith, almost at the castle gate, the last.” Andrew smiled, and winced when his cheek moved. “You will have somewhere undercover to sleep at least. The Duke is still Offisland, but do not draw attention to yourselves. The tinker says most people think you are warlocks and are afraid of you.” “What about the ones that’ll shelter us?” Mike said. “What do they believe?” “The miller has been my friend from youth. He lost a son to his lordship’s games. Witch, warlock, demon, he cares not. If the Duke is against you, Jack will be for you.” I smiled, and Andrew paused, eyebrows raised. “Sorry, the name made me think of a story about a fat, jolly miller.” “Jack, I fear, is neither. Not since his son died. Peter, you and Davey rest with him. The tanner is my 64

HUGH McCRACKEN cousin, a good man, a bit rough perhaps. Keith should stay with him. Thomas is a loyal kinsman. He will help you because I ask it. “The smith, Robert, believes in nothing he cannot see, feel, touch, or smell. He makes obeisance at correct times in church. Michael, you stay with him. Robert is cousin to my wife.” Andrew looked at us. “I’m truly sorry you boys were beaten yesterday.” He reached out and ruffled Davey’s hair, the way I’d seen Davey’s Grandpa do. Without warning, Davey threw himself into Andrew’s arms and clung to him. Surprised, Andrew sat for a moment before he enfolded Davey in his arms. We heard a snort. I looked up to see Walter, his face red and twisted in a snarl, glaring at us.

65

CHAPTER TEN

Two days later, at dawn, Andrew announced we should leave that day. “It’s a full day’s march to town by the inland trail South. A day and a half if you go East to the coast and follow it South. You should be in town the day after tomorrow. Tell my kin that Andrew of the Forest sent you. They will receive you.” Mike chose to travel by the coast. Colin’s cairn was bigger than we remembered. As we each added a rock from the beach, Mike pointed to bunches of berries and a circlet made of interwoven twigs or small branches. “I wonder who put these here,” I said. “They’re mountain ash berries.” “They’re called rowans here, Prof. At last something you don’t know.” “Why would somebody put rowans on Colin’s grave?” Keith said. “I think the rowan was sacred to the Druids ...” I started. Davey groaned. “And you read about it some place?” “There aren’t any mountain ash — rowan trees — round here. Whoever did it must have brought the branches and the berries from somewhere else.” “There are rowans in the centre of the wood in our 66

HUGH McCRACKEN time,” Davey said. “Grandpa said there always had been and always would be, the old ones wouldn’t let the grove die. I said I hadn’t seen any pensioners tending the trees or planting any, and Grandpa laughed: ‘Not those Old Ones, Davey.’ Dad shut him up. He always did when Grandpa was about to tell a good story.” “Can we find the centre?” I said, “I’d like to go up there.” Mike was pretty sure he could find the spot in daylight, orienting himself by the unchanged landmarks. We stumbled across a well-trodden path. “That goes in the direction we want,” Mike said. A short way along the path, it forked, and Mike led us along the less travelled branch. A cleared space opened before us and, slightly off-centre, a stand of rowans. “This is spooky. Let’s go,” Davey urged. “Stay here if you want to, but I want to look right in the rowan grove,” I said. Mike and I advanced and, after a slight pause, Davey and Keith scampered after us. On one of the trees, Colin’s clothes hung from the branches with garlands of rowan twigs and berries round them. Overcome by a sudden panic, we ran from the place. “Let’s spend tonight on our rock,” Keith said, “before we go into town.” At the rock, we debated the best time, when we would be most unobtrusive, for us to enter town. Finally, we agreed to sleep on it and do a recce, then decide in the morning. Shortly after dawn on the day Andrew had 67

RULES OF THE HUNT suggested, we marched along the beach to town. It was surprisingly busy. While we watched, young men, women, and some boys no older than us jumped ashore from two boats. “A bit late for tourists, isn’t it?” Davey said. “Of course,” I said. “Perfect for us. It must be market day. There’ll be all sorts of strangers in town. No one will notice us. I’ve read about hiring fairs ...” Davey groaned and Keith laughed. We wandered into town, gawking round us like country bumpkins. We had all read something of medieval towns in school history, but the reality was quite different. “It sure pongs here doesn’t it?” Davey said. A small church and several small buildings were in the local stone, but most of the buildings were wooden. “Let’s find our places,” Mike said. The tanner’s stood on its own, outside town. “Wow. What a stink,” Davey said. “They won’t notice you here, Keith.” “Cut it out you two,” Mike said. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. Anyway, we’d all be thought pretty ripe back home.” There was no mistaking the tannery or the tanner. Thomas was a smaller version of Andrew as he moved among his vats. He saw us and scowled. “Be off, lads, I’ve no need of anyone. You’d best be at the hiring fair in town.” “Huh, Gramps said they still had hiring fairs for farm servants and labourers when he was a kid,” Davey said. “Andrew of the Forest sent us,” I said. 68

HUGH McCRACKEN Thomas stared at us. “Andrew said but one. You are four.” “Only Keith is to stay with you, Master Thomas,” I said. He snorted. “Thomas is fine.” When he ushered us into a curing shed, two boys smaller than Keith looked up from scraping skins. “My boys, Bernard and Jonathon,” Thomas said, and turned to one boy. “Show Keith what to do. I must go to market.” He turned and walked off. “We’d better find the other places, Keith,” Mike said. “We’ll see you later. Okay?” “God. It feels queer leaving Keith, after all this time together,” I said. “Andrew said his cousin’s okay,” Davey said. “He’s a bit rough, Andrew said, but okay. Keith will be fine.” The smithy was close to the castle drawbridge. We stood in the open doorway and watched as he shaped a length of white hot metal into the mate of the piece sitting on the bench. Finished trimming it, he glanced at us. “Andrew of the Forest sent us,” I said. “This is a busy day. We can talk later. Which of you is to stay?” “I am. Michael.” Robert looked him up and down. “You seem sturdy. Good. Let’s to work.” Dismissed, Davey and I wandered off to find the mill. When we arrived, Jack was outside the mill adjusting the sluices that controlled the flow of water through the millrace, and hence the speed of his 69

RULES OF THE HUNT grindstones. He glanced at Davey and me, then turned back to his work. “Excuse me, sir,” I called, “Andrew of the Forest sent us.” Jack glanced round, made a final inspection of the gate, and motioned us to go to the entrance to the mill. Inside, the mill was dark and dusty. Jack led us past a moving grindstone. He checked the flow of grain to the centre as he passed. The room beyond was quieter, and had a window set high up in the wall. Jack surveyed us both carefully in silence. The scrutiny went on so long I felt my face flush and Davey began to fidget. At last, Jack walked back to the outside entrance, and we heard him blowing his nose loudly. He returned, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “You’re exactly the size my Luke was when last I saw him. Andrew will have told you, Luke died of his lordship’s games.” “Andrew told us you’d lost a son, sir,” I said. “But he didn’t tell us what had happened.” Jack stood lost in thought for a few minutes, then in a low voice said, “Luke and a friend were out rabbiting on common ground. They chanced upon a party from the castle, returning after an unsuccessful hunt. His Lordship made the boys strip and race against each other, the loser to be flogged. Luke and Robert were firm friends and both tried to let the other win. This angered His Lordship, who lost his wager. Both boys were flogged and made to race again. Luke, losing, was flogged a second time.” “Did Luke die of the flogging?” Davey said. “No. This became too tame for His Lordship’s 70

HUGH McCRACKEN friends. The boys were given time to run and hide, then the hunting party went after them. Robert made it back to town, I know not how. I and some others ran to where the boys had been.” Jack stopped, stood silent, then wiped his eyes and said, “When we got there, Luke was dead. The Duke’s steward said it was not intended, it was an accident. They gave me the blood money for the death of a free townsman. I still have the silver nailed to the wall. Some day I shall find a suitable way of returning the coin to His Lordship.” I could think of no suitable comment. Davey shuffled, and wiped tears from his eyes with his sleeves. “You two can bed down in here,” Jack said. “There’s a pallet somewhere and there’s plenty of good clean straw. You’ll eat with us, of course. Right, let’s to work. I could do with a hand shifting grain to the feed hopper above the stone.” In the evening, we met at the smith’s. Davey and I told the others of Jack’s son, Luke. “Ye mean if ye kill somebody, ye can get off jist by payin’ blood money,” Keith said. “Yes,” I said. “I’ve read about that in history. What you …” Davey groaned again and I scowled at him. “What you had to pay depended on whom you killed. If you had a high enough rank, like the Duke, you could get away with practically anything.” “But, Pete, you said they would hang someone for stealing a sheep,” Davey objected. “Where have you boys come from?” Robert said. “A sheep is a valuable piece of property. A peasant, who 71

RULES OF THE HUNT belongs to no man, has no value. We must talk further. For, boys, you have some very interesting ideas, but I would not speak them before strangers. Now go. Jack and Thomas will lock up for the night when it is fully dark.”

72

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Up at sunrise or shortly before, we fetched water, tended fires, and removed slops. Our daytime jobs depended on what our hosts did for a living, but most days we found ourselves free to meet for an hour or so before dusk. After the evening meal, there was little chance to leave home, especially now the days were so short. It was much colder with biting frosts at night. We agreed we were all glad not to be sleeping rough, although we did miss the freedom of the forest days. On Sundays, we attended mass with our hosts and were free the balance of the day. After the first mass, we met in the smith’s shop. “How did you know what to do, Prof?” Mike said. “It was all in a foreign language.” “Yes, Latin,” I replied. “Our priest at home made all the altar boys learn the Latin mass although it was done in English, the vernacular, after Vatican II.” “Oh, you’re Catholic. I didn’t know that,” Mike said. “If you’re Catholic why isn’t Davey Catholic? You’re cousins aren’t you?” “Davey’s mother is my mother’s sister. The aunt I was staying with for the holiday is my father’s sister. Dad’s family is Catholic, Mom’s isn’t. Does it make a difference?” “No, but Davey, Keith, and me sure looked like 73

RULES OF THE HUNT idiots bobbing up and down at all the wrong places, and getting all tied up in knots crossing ourselves.” “Speak for yourself,” Davey said. “I was fine.” “Oh aye, that’ll be right.” Keith jeered. “At least Mike and Ah didnae fa’ ow’r tryin’ to genu-whatever; ye know, what Pete called bowin’.” “Genuflect, you mean,” I put in. “Are you boys not Christian?” Robert said. “What are you?” “Ah don’t know. Today’s the first time Ah’ve been in a church that Ah can think o’,” Keith said. Robert went off on business of his own and talk turned again to how we could show we came from somewhen else rather than somewhere else. “In any decent story about people going back in time I’ve ever read,” Davey said. “They were always able to surprise the locals with the stuff they brought with them and the events they knew would happen. What did we bring with us? Not one watch among the five of us. Mike had matches, but they’re all gone, and a snare wire. Pete and Mike both had Swiss Army knives, and that’s it. What do we know about when we are? Even if we knew the date, I slept through most history classes. Even Pete, for all his talk, doesn’t know a darn thing about European history: they don’t teach it in America do they, Pete?” “Oh, that’s not quite all we brought,” I said. “We had some loose change, coins in our pockets. The coins have dates.” “Big deal,” Keith interrupted, “nobody can read.” “We had … have … zip fasteners in our jeans,” I went on, “and I have a couple of colour photos in my 74

HUGH McCRACKEN wallet.” “A very impressive collection, I must say,” Mike said. “The photos are likely to get us burnt at the stake for witchcraft. If we try to show off the zips, without underpants on we’d like as not get ourselves caught in the zip.” “Ouch,” Keith said. He danced around, his hands at his crotch. “Mind you, Davey would be okay.” He dodged a lump of charcoal Davey threw, and sat with a bump when Mike pushed him. “Are you all right with Thomas the Tanner, Keith?” I said. “You’ve been very quiet … until now.” “Yeah, great isn’t it!” Davey said. “It’s okay. Ah’d rather be back wi’ you lot again though. Even if it did mean puttin’ up wi’ Davey,” Keith said. “Ah don’t think his sons, Bernard and Jonathon, like me much. Ah sleep wi’ them on a straw bed thing on the floor and they push me aff durin’ the night.” “Well, who could blame them?” Davey said. I cuffed him. “Shut up, Davey. This could be serious. Go on, Keith.” “Well, there really isnae much else. Ah talked tae them about the island in our time, and they laughed at me.” Keith shrugged. “They laughed because Ah wisnae good at scrapin’ the skins too. It’s real tricky, ye know, scrapin’ them afore Thomas puts them in the tubs. Ah managed tae cut yin and, oh boy, was Thomas ever mad. He said it was halved in value, and he was goin’ tae belt Bernard, the older one. Ah said Ah done it, and he gave me a hidin’ wi’ a leather strap, then he gave Johnathon a couple of whacks for no showin’ me how to do it right in the first place.” Keith 75

RULES OF THE HUNT laughed, a little ruefully, “Ah hivenae cut yin since, shaved a bit thin maybe but no cut. “Hae any o’ ye had any bother with the other locals? When Bernard and Jonathon and me were out deliverin’ some stuff for Thomas, some local yobs started shouting at us. Callin’ us stinkin’ tanner’s kids. One threw a mud ball at us and Ah lipped him back. Bernard and Jonathon ran away, but the yobs caught me and Ah got pounded.” Davey and Keith went into a huddle, whispering in one corner of the smithy while Mike and I talked before we broke up for the night. “Andrew did say Thomas was a bit rough, didn’t he?” Mike said. “Think Keith will be all right with him?” “Yeah, I think so. I don’t think Thomas’s being any harder on Keith than he is on his own kids. It’s a much rougher time than when we come from. I hope he can get on better with the boys.” As Davey and I walked back to the mill, Davey said, “can we do anything for Keith? It’s not fair he’s being beaten up by the local yobs.” “I thought you agreed with them. You said he stank of the tannery earlier this afternoon,” I said. “That’s different. He does stink of the tannery, but he’s one of us, and we’ve got to stick together. Anyway, us needling each other has nothing to do with anyone else.” Next afternoon, Davey vanished from the mill early. He hadn’t reappeared when I left to meet the others. At the smithy, there was only Mike. “How’s it going with you?” I asked. “Fine. Robert’s teaching me a lot about metals. He 76

HUGH McCRACKEN lets me practice on bits and pieces, when he’s not too busy. He’s got three daughters and no son. Everything interests him. It’s great talking to him all day. How’s the mill?” “Oh, Jack’s fine. He’s friendly, but he sure isn’t the Jolly Miller. Every time he starts to cheer up, he looks at me and his face freezes over. I guess I remind him too much of his son, Luke. His wife spoils Davey, and does Davey ever play up to her. They either don’t have any other children or maybe they’re married or in service and live somewhere else. I don’t know, but I’ve never seen anyone else around except Jack and his wife. I wonder where Davey and Keith have got to.” “Should we maybe go and look for them?” Mike started, when there were shouts outside. Mike and I stepped out of the smithy shed. Davey, Keith and two smaller boys we didn’t recognise right off, ran into the yard. There was a whoop from outside and a voice said, “we’ve got them cornered now.” Three boys bigger than me, but smaller than Mike, ran in after the small kids, and skidded to a standstill on seeing us standing there, flanked by the four others. Without waiting, Mike stepped forward and punched the centre youth hard on the nose. I advanced on a second, who stepped back only to fall over Davey, who had knelt behind him. The youngster went sprawling on his back, banging his head hard on the way down. I then turned to the third of the group. We grappled, exchanging blows. Davey and Keith both jumped on the one who had been knocked down and prevented him from rising, at the same time getting in a fair share 77

RULES OF THE HUNT of blows. The two small boys danced round the periphery of the battle, shouting. Mike and I were surviving, barely, when Robert arrived. He grabbed the two fighting Mike and me by the scruff of the neck. He shook them as a terrier would a rat, then threw them heavily against the yard wall. They scrambled to their feet and fled. “Davey, Keith, leave him be,” Robert shouted, “and you, be off. Tell your friends, next time Robert the Smith will not be so gentle.” Robert turned to us, “Go wash yourselves off in the trough. You are covered in blood.” Washed, Mike turned to Davey and Keith, “What was that all about?” Davey, giggling, explained: “You couldn’t have timed it better. Those were the yobs that beat up on Keith. Remember he told us about them? Well, I met Keith with Bernard and Jonathon this afternoon. We annoyed the yobs to get them to chase us, and then ran here. I knew you’d be here.” “Well, thanks a lot,” I said. “Exactly what I always wanted: a split lip and a black eye.” “Oh, I don’t know, Prof,” Mike said. “It was rather fun, and what else are brothers for? Thanks Robert, it might have got a bit nasty if you hadn’t shown when you did. Are you two all right?” Bernard and Jonathon, beet-red and silent, shuffled, heads down, then nodded, and Bernard said, “We’d best be getting home, or Pa will be after us. You coming home now, Keith?” Keith looked startled for a moment, then grinned. “Right, maybe Ah’d better gae hame early tonight. 78

HUGH McCRACKEN So long. See ye tomorrow. Thanks a lot, Pete, Mike, Robert. It was a grand idea, Davey, thanks.” The three youngsters left, Keith in the middle with an arm round each of the smaller boys. “What are you two looking at me like that for?” Davey said. He backed slowly away from Mike and me as we turned and advanced on him. “It was a grand idea, Davey.” Mike mimicked Keith’s accent. “I don’t suppose it dawned on you to ask us first? “Yes, but I was sure you’d say no,” Davey admitted. “Shall I hold him while you tickle him to death or the other way round, Prof? Quick, grab him before he gets away.” After the battle of the smithy, as Davey called it, Keith seemed better accepted by Thomas’s sons and altogether happier. He and Davey settled back into sniping at each other, but Keith’s jibes at Davey were much less pointed than before, and he and Davey were much closer.

79

CHAPTER TWELVE

The question of exactly how we got to the past and how, and if, we could ever return was a topic of conversation that came up often. “How could we jump frae yin time tae another?” Keith said for the umpteenth time. “We just did,” Mike, the pragmatist, said. “Face it, it happened. Endless jawing about it doesn’t get us anyplace.” “Cool it,” I said. “You’ve asked the same question yourself often enough. Let’s not snap at each other. We’d all like to go home. What was the idea Davey had about scratches on a gramophone record?” “Well, I said that when you get a scratch on a gramophone record the needle can jump forward or backwards in the tracks, depending on which direction the scratch runs in.” “What’s a gramophone record?” Robert the Smith asked. “Wow! Where do you start to explain that?” I said. All our attempts to explain got bogged down, because every idea we tried to use was equally strange to Robert, and in turn needed description and explanation. After snapping at each other, we finally gave up. “Ah nivver did like that idea anyway,” Keith said. “It 80

HUGH McCRACKEN was stupid, it meant a’thing was already decided and recorded.” “It did not,” Davey objected. “Only the past was recorded.” “But Davey,” I said, “if we were on the record and this is our past, then what was our present then, is our future now, and it’s recorded. So Keith’s right.” “Wha’s oan first?” Keith said, and dodged as Davey threw a piece of charcoal at him. “No, stop it, boys. If you two want to fight, go outside,” Robert said. “I want to talk about this. If you boys do come from another time, then there must have been at least one instant when your time and this time were the same, at least where you were when it happened. Could Davey’s idea explain that?” “No,” Davey said. “And I suppose Keith’s right about pre-recorded time. I don’t really like that idea either.” “It certainly wouldn’t leave much room for the free will the Church talks about,” Robert said. Davey sat fiddling with a leather harness strap Keith had stolen for him, making loops in it and running a finger along the smooth side. He sat bolt upright and looked intently at the thong in his hand. Carefully, he undid the loop he had made, moved his finger along it, shook his head, redid it, and traced the surface again. “Have any of you ever heard of an amoeba loop?” “An amoeba is a single celled plant or animal,” I said. “Then that’s not what it’s called then, Pete. Look.” He held out the leather strap with a loop in it. “What are we supposed to see?” I said. “All of you, watch.” Davey showed us both sides of 81

RULES OF THE HUNT the strap, a rough side and a smooth side. “You can’t get from rough to smooth without going over an edge.” Keith made a great show of yawning and Davey scowled at him. “If I make the strap into a loop, where the two ends join is still rough to rough and smooth to smooth.” He demonstrated. “So you still can’t get from one side to the other.” Keith laughed. “Tell me when he gets tae the bit where he fetches a rabbit frae somewhere.” “Oh, shut up,” I said. “Go on, Davey.”

“If I give it a single twist before I put the ends together, then it’s smooth to rough and rough to smooth. See?” “So what?” Mike stretched and scratched. “Think for once, you great lummox. You can get from the rough side to the smooth side without going over an edge, by going round the loop.” Almost gently, Mike pinned Davey to the floor. “What did you call me? Where’s that strap? I’ve got a better use for it.” “I have it,” I said. “Let him up. This is interesting. It’s called a Möbius loop.” “That’s right,” Keith said. “Auld Waters at school showed us it.”

82

HUGH McCRACKEN

“I knew it was something like amoeba.” Davey straightened his tunic and the breeches Jack had given him. “You still go over the edge of the strap,” Keith objected. “No. Not if you look at it right,” Davey said. “Robert, please could you make this with a metal strap so there’s no bump at crossover? Please, it’s important.” Robert grumbled, but interested in seeing where Davey’s idea took us, he fired up and took an inch-wide strip of stock that he rapidly fashioned into a copy of Davey’s leather strap with a single twist before 83

RULES OF THE HUNT crossover. The crossover itself, Robert hammered flat and trimmed so the lead up to the crossover was uniform in width with the rest of the strap. When it was quenched and cooled, Robert handed it back to Davey. Davey marked one side of the strap with a piece of charcoal, starting at one end and continuing all the way to the other end keeping the charcoal in contact with the metal surface all the way. “Now look,” he said. “If you start here, at one end, on the charcoal side, you can stay on the charcoal side all the way to the other end. When you come to the crossover first time, you can turn off onto the clean side. If you follow the clean side round, you come back to the crossover. Suppose time’s like that? Suppose our time line is the charcoal side, and this time line is the clean side. We flipped to this time line, at a crossover, maybe we can flip back to our own time line once we’ve been round the loop.” “If we went on to the loop in the first place,” Michael said. “Look. At the crossover, first time, if you turn onto the other time line away from the loop, then you’re on the new time line forever. It does answer Robert’s point though. For an instant at some place, some time, the two time lines coincide. Let’s hope Davey’s right and we turned onto the loop. The yearly haunt of the wood back home could mean the loop’s one year long and we can probably cross back over at the next Hunt.” “You know,” I said, “it could be this isn’t our past at all. Davey’s sides of the strap could be parallel universes, and maybe there isn’t only two of them. Maybe there’s a whole host of them and sometimes they touch the way Davey describes.” 84

HUGH McCRACKEN “If that’s it,” Mike objected, “why hasn’t anyone come the other way? If the wood on the day of the Hunt is a crossover point, why has someone not come through to our side?” “Maybe,” I said, “when the strips meet at a particular place, like the wood at home, it’s like a railway junction. Like a train, you can only go the way the points are set. If the points are set to take you into the loop, into the loop you go. Something, someone, some event decides which way the points are set, and so far they have always been set from our time to this time.” Mike laughed, but it didn’t sound at all humorous. “A nice academic discussion, but we’re all forgetting what Andrew said: we are the first new players to survive the Hunt of their arrival.” I shivered. For a moment, I saw floating in the air the Duke’s face. It did a slow, fade-dissolve into Andrew’s face. Followed by another face that looked vaguely familiar, but which I still couldn’t quite place. Next Sunday, Mike presented each of us with a copy of Davey’s loop worked in pewter. It had a rough side and a polished side. Where the two met there was a fine crosshatching on both sides. “Ah’ll get us leather thongs,” Keith said. “We kin wear them roon our necks.”

85

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Thomas saw Keith’s copy of Davey’s closed loop and beat him. Apparently, it was very like some symbol used by the Friends of the Rowan, the Old Ones, and frowned on by the church. A symbol of life eternal, cycle after cycle. Only initiates were supposed to have one and it wasn’t supposed to be flashed around. When Keith told him we all had copies and what it meant to us, Thomas insisted on a meeting at the mill with Jack, Robert and us. “Why the fuss, Thomas?” Robert said. “You are one of the Friends of the Rowan.” “These boys have no right to such knowledge. Without the vows to the Old Ones, they are a danger to themselves and to us.” Robert shrugged. “They are new players, the first in years, and the first ever to survive the Hunt of their arrival. What greater danger can they, or we, be in?” “The Friends must know and decide.” Thomas glared at Jack and Robert. “No, Thomas, cousin to Andrew,” Jack said. “Andrew must decide. He sent the boys to us. He said no one was to know who or what they were. We must seek Andrew’s wisdom.” Thomas chewed his lower lip. “At least Samuel the Shepherd must be told.” 86

HUGH McCRACKEN “Is he the Samuel at the North end of the island, on the other side from Andrew?” I said. “How come you to know of him?” Thomas said. I told him of our visit to Samuel’s and of his assumptions about us. Robert laughed. “There, Thomas, you may rest easy. Samuel knows. However, we will still seek Andrew’s wisdom. Peter can journey to him tomorrow.” Next morning shortly after dawn, I reported to the smithy. A finely dressed man on horseback sat slapping his leg with his crop. A second, dismounted, spoke to Robert. “Enough parley, Captain,” the mounted man said. “Smith; the hand manacles on the wall are to be repaired, the ratchet pawl for the rack replaced and new manacles placed on the frame. All this today. My Lord Duke returns soon and all must be in good repair.” “Master Simmons, I would require assistance to do so much today.” “You have two boys here.” Master Simmons studied me. “Sundown, Smith. Come, Captain, the morning is wasting.” Robert sighed and scratched his head. “Fetch Davey. He must go to Andrew. He must be told Simmons has seen you.” Davey positively bounced with excitement and importance as he set off, his message to Andrew well rehearsed. He was to go by the shore and stay overnight with the fisher folk at Fishtown. We presented ourselves at the castle gate after seeing Davey off. Robert’s mule carried most of our needs: the small anvil, a collection of hammers, some 87

RULES OF THE HUNT metal stock, a sack of wood charcoal, and a small brazier. I carried a small hand bellows. Both Mike and I had visited the castle as a ruin. Since coming to town, we had never risked closer than the end of the bridge over the moat. When we clattered across the bridge with Robert and his mule, I looked up at the arch of the entrance. The stones were fresh, newly cut, with sharp edges. The portcullis slot was clean and the portcullis fitted neatly. These were not the smooth, age worn stones of the castle in our time.

We passed through the gate with scarcely a glance from the guard. “Wow, Mike,” I said. “Look, there are still masons working inside. I thought it would be finished.” “The outer walls, the ramparts were only completed some fifteen years since. The inside has been abuilding ever since,” Robert said. I found the confusion incredible. I had thought of a castle as an orderly, military post. The castle in modern days was neat and tidy, with manicured lawns and tidily

88

HUGH McCRACKEN fenced off excavation sites. Here, from inside, I could scarcely see the outer walls. There were wooden leantos, barracks for the men-at-arms, stables, storehouses, and stacks of timber and stone. Everywhere we looked, there were people in a chaotic scene. The gatehouse and gate tower were essentially complete, but a second tower was under construction, and what Robert said was a chapel. “Ah, Robert the Smith.” A portly man carrying a staff called to him. “You are needed by the Captain of the guard. His Lordship left instructions for some changes. The Captain will show you.” At the guardhouse we stayed outside with the mule while Robert made his presence known. “The cells or dungeons are through there,” Mike said. “Behind the guardroom there’s a staircase down. In our time, it’s bricked up at the head of the stairs.” “Come, you two. Unload the mule. We’ve work to do,” Robert called to us. “Take our stuff down. Follow the guard.” Mike and I struggled with the heavy equipment. We finally got it to the foot of the stairs, where, to my surprise, a wide room opened up. It was difficult to see at first, as the only light was one torch in a bracket on the wall at the foot of the stairs. Robert lit three more torches to give him light to work, while we lit the charcoal in the brazier. With the extra lights, Mike and I looked round. The far end of the room had a fireplace. Beside it, a high backed wooden chair faced into the room. With a shiver, I remembered Samuel mentioning a 89

RULES OF THE HUNT chair in a story he had told us: “They do say His Lordship has a chair with a back, set in the torture chamber so he can sit in comfort and watch his torturer at work. Some say he once had a competition with his torturer to see who could first make his victim confess to a crime for which the sentence was death. The victims were told he who held out longest would not hang. Nor did he, the story goes. The one who confessed, they hanged that very day. The other died by torture over many long days.” One wall had a collection of iron tools hanging from hooks. I was afraid to guess what they were used for. On the wall opposite, rings were set in pairs about the height of a man’s head. At one side of the fireplace wall, a dark passageway led out of the room away from the staircase. A plain wooden bench about waist-high almost filled the centre of the room. At one end of the bench was a wooden plank with two holes in it. On looking more closely, I saw it was like stocks. The top of the plank could be lifted, then closed and locked, trapping the ankles of a victim lying on the bench. At the other end of the bench was a windlass arrangement with a large wheel on each side of the bench. “The rack,” Mike breathed. We both jumped at a voice behind us. “Yes, an interesting toy,” Simmons said. “I see you have the boys with you, Smith. Perhaps we could use one to test the effectiveness of your repairs?” Simmons’ hands began to move over my body. I started to struggle, but at an urgent shake of the head from Robert, managed to stand still. 90

HUGH McCRACKEN “A less muscular body than most peasant stock, but good joints,” Simmons said. “They might be a good test of your work, Smith, and interesting to experiment with. See you do your work well.” “Yes, Master Simmons,” Robert said. With a final grip on my elbow, Simmons withdrew up the stairs. One foot on the stair, the Captain turned back to Robert. “Don’t forget the manacles on the frame,” he said. The frame the Captain pointed to was almost like a ladder, taller by about a head than Robert. It was about a man’s pace between the uprights at the bottom, tapering to less than a third at the top. “They tie someone to it to whip them, or to use hot irons or pincers,” Robert said with a shudder. We had finished the work when the Captain and Master Simmons returned. “Captain, Master Simmons,” Robert said, turning and bowing. “The rings are again secure, the manacles are on the frame, and the ratchet pawl is mended.” “Smith, before you go, I would like your opinion on attachments for a new acquisition. My Lord’s carpenters have made me a chair to my design, but we cannot agree on fastenings. Captain.” The Captain snapped his fingers and two men carried a chair down the narrow stairs. “Set it there,” Master Simmons said. “No, a little further back where My Lord can see it easily from his chair by the fire, but giving me room to work round it. A little further back perhaps. My Lord would not wish to be splashed or splattered. 91

RULES OF THE HUNT “You, boy, sit in it.” Master Simmons pointed at me. Reluctantly I sat. The chair had a straight wooden back that came higher than my head. Two arms broadened to rectangles bigger than my spread hands at the front end of each arm. “Place an arm on each arm of the chair, boy, your hands spread, palms down. Now Smith, I would have some means of securing the arms and hands so, while I work on the fingers. I have seen both leather straps and fixed iron manacles used. What say you, Smith?” Robert cleared his throat noisily. “The leather straps would be more useful, Master Simmons, and would better fit a variety of sizes.” “Exactly my opinion, Smith. I will require your services to attach The Boot, which I am expecting, to this chair. It is a remarkable instrument. The effects on the subjects of the demonstrations were astounding. What is your name, boy?” When I didn’t answer at once, Master Simmons slapped me hard. “Are you dumb, boy?” He laughed. “I have made the dumb talk before this, eh Captain?” Master Simmons and the Captain both laughed, and I croaked, “Peter, Master.” “Well, Peter, our master, the Duke, will be returning shortly. What say Captain, should we keep Peter in the castle to await My Lord’s return?” Master Simmons looked at me and laughed again. “No, perhaps not. He is obviously well fed and cared for where he is. Why should we have the expense of him when we can pick him up when the Duke pleases, if he pleases?” With a nod at the group, Master Simmons turned 92

HUGH McCRACKEN and walked up the stairs to the guardroom. I let out the breath I was holding and jumped out of the chair. “Collect our stuff and take it to the mule, boys.” Robert said. I helped Mike gather our tools and materials, but my hands shook. Would Simmons change his mind and keep me at the castle? I wondered. Until we cleared the drawbridge, I trembled, then I took a deep breath and my heart slowed. On our way to the smithy, Robert said nothing, but put an arm round my shoulder. At the smithy, Keith wanted to know all about our visit to the castle. Mike told him what we had seen and done, but I sat in silence, thinking. “When you measured for the bolts for the new cells, did you notice the door at the end of the cell passage? At the end away from the torture room, past the new cells?” Mike said. Robert nodded. “The guard told me it was new and leads up to another entrance in the courtyard. A private entrance for the Duke, so he doesn’t have to go through the guard room.” For the first time in months, I slept alone. I wakened from dreams several times during the night to realise Davey wasn’t there. In the dreams, I was in the torture chamber, watching, not from the chair I had sat in, but from a point against the wall looking down, and the figure on the rack was not me or Davey. It was always Keith.

93

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Shortly after dawn next day, Keith ran into the mill. Breathless, he panted out, “the torturer, Master Simmons, an escort, all mounted, passed the tannery headed North at dawn. Friends of Thomas’s at the castle sent word he is going to arrest someone.” The day dragged. I worked hard with Jack, but, like a tongue at a bad tooth, my mind kept straying back to Davey and Andrew, both in the North. When the three of us met at the smithy in the afternoon, we made a gloomy group. “What’s the earliest we can expect to hear anything?” I said. “Well, if Master Simmons did go to pick up Andrew, they could be back tomorrow. If they stay tonight at Andrew’s, Davey might run into them.” We sat in silence for a while, before Robert came into the smithy and stopped in the doorway. “It was so quiet, I though you were not here. Jack and Thomas are coming. We must talk.” Jack and Thomas arrived minutes apart. “If Robert had not been so foolish as to take the boys into the castle, this would never have happened,” Jack said. “No. That’s not fair,” I said. “Quiet, Peter,” Jack shouted. He turned to Robert 94

HUGH McCRACKEN and Thomas. “Why are these boys here? This is a matter for men, not beardless youths. They should wait elsewhere and be told our decision.” “No, Jack,” I said. “Thanks for your shelter and kindness to us, but we won’t be sent out like naughty schoolboys while someone else decides what we should do. If we can’t stay and join with you, we’ll go. We can go back to the forest; the worst of the winter is over.” Thomas stepped behind Keith and put a hand on each shoulder. Keith stiffened, glanced back, then with a grin leaned back against Thomas when he said, “I took Keith because Andrew said to, but he is now my son. Peter is right — by their experience they have earned their place in the council with us, beardless though they be.” Robert nodded. “I agree. They should stay. They are older than their years.” “Jack, please don’t be angry,” I said. “We respect you and your judgement, but Andrew is our friend too. Davey, our brother, is possibly in danger. Please, let’s not quarrel. Let’s work together to see what we can do. If Andrew is taken, can he be rescued? Will Davey be safe?” “I’m sorry, Robert,” Jack said. “I was hasty. Peter may be right.” Thomas shuffled and looked embarrassed. Robert looked directly at Jack and said, “You have been given the chance of two more sons and have not taken it. Thomas and I will have the memories of these, our sons of the spirit, to cherish. What have you? You stopped living when Luke died, except to brood on 95

RULES OF THE HUNT revenge. Enjoy the boys now, while we have them. Fighting and revenge can come later. “Enough of this,” Robert finished. “We have decisions to make, and they must be made without the benefit of Andrew’s wisdom. Now, what is likely to happen and what can we do about it?” “We do not yet know why Master Simmons went North, but it is most likely it was to take Andrew ...” Jack started. “That is simply in our minds. Master Simmons has often left the castle with an escort. We are jumping to conclusions,” Thomas interrupted. “True,” Robert said. “But suppose Andrew is taken. What then? No one has ever been rescued from the castle.” “Our natural chief has never been held in the castle,” Thomas said. “We would not allow Andrew to be taken in The Hunt, even if it meant the life of another. This simply advances the date at which we have to act.” “There’s no time to mount an attack to rescue him before they reach the castle,” Jack said. “So it does mean a rescue from the castle. We will need help from within. That means contacting the monastery. Thomas, can you arrange a meeting with the Friends of the Rowan? There is danger in exposing the boys to them, but I say it is now a risk we have to take. I will talk to those who supported me at Luke’s death. Robert, you know our strong and reliable supporters, those who support our house. Will you inform them of our need and send word to the Abbot?” “Wow, this is exciting. Ah’ve never been part of a 96

HUGH McCRACKEN revolution before. Aaow, Thomas, that hurt, whit was that for?” Keith exclaimed. “We are not playing games, Keith,” Thomas said. “Even today’s work could get us all hanged. Guard your speech.” “We will meet at the mill tomorrow to report progress,” Jack said. “Come, Peter. Let’s go home.” For the first time since we had come to town, I felt some real warmth in Jack. “I hope Davey will be all right,” Jack said. “You are right. I shouldn’t have blamed Robert. We have all been hoping that if we ignored your situation, it would go away. It won’t, but it was separate from Andrew, and now it isn’t. I don’t know if this mixing of causes is good for either.” “Wait for me. Wait up.” Keith came running after us, puffing. “Thomas said Ah could come and stay with ye tonight, Pete, since Davey’s away. We thought ye might be lonely.” “Very thoughtful of him, I’m sure,” Jack said. “One less mouth for him to feed, one more for me.” At Keith’s crestfallen expression Jack immediately said, “I’m joking. Of course, Peter’s brother is as welcome as Peter himself. Come, let’s not linger. The night draws in.” “Are you okay with Thomas now?” I asked Keith when we were alone. “Oh aye, ye heard him at the meetin’. Bernard and Jonathon are good kids. We get on fine now. Thomas disnae clip me any more than them, and aye for something, not like Da and ma brithers.” 97

RULES OF THE HUNT “Did Thomas suggest you come here tonight?” “Naw. Ah thought ye would be missin’ Davey and be worried about him. Ah know he’s yer cousin and ye like him better than me, but Ah thought ma bein’ here would help.” “Oh, it does help, honest. Thanks, Keith.” “Are they really goin’ to fight? Is it a revolution?” “I don’t think so. From things they’ve said in the last few days Andrew might be some kind of leader, or hereditary chief. It’s complicated though. Andrew’s a woodsman and the Duke rules. I don’t think there’s any chance of the Duke being overthrown. The people in power now are too strong. If the Duke were killed, whoever is his heir would succeed him. I don’t think the locals will let Andrew be killed if they can help it either. It looks like some kind of standoff. We were lucky Andrew took to us.” “That the lecture ow’r?” “Sorry to bore you.” We sat quietly for some time. “Whit does yer Da do?” “He’s an engineer. He does consulting work and teaches at a university in the States. What about your Dad?” “He’s a farm labourer, sometimes a deckhand on the trawlers. Ah’ve got four brithers. They a’ left school as soon as they could and do casual labour — ye know, anythin’ they can find. Ah expect if we ever get back that’s whit’ll happen to me. It’s no fair. Ah like school. Ah’m good at it, as good as Davey, but his folks dinnae laugh at him and he’s got books at home. Davey’s Da isnae drunk and swearin’ when he speaks 98

HUGH McCRACKEN to the teacher, so the teacher listens. Ma brithers beat up on me too, especially when they’ve been drinkin’.” “When we all get back,” I said, “we must stick together. We’ve been brothers here. We should look out for each other back home.” “But ye’ll gae back tae yer folks in the States, won’t ye?” “I don’t know what will happen. Mom and Dad are splitting up. That’s why I stayed on the island after she went back. To avoid a custody battle in court. If I do go home though, maybe you could come with me. Would your Dad let you?” “Would he ever! He’d be right pleased to get rid of me. His sissy son who reads and likes school. Do ye think I could? Man, that would be grand.” “Let’s get some sleep.” On the pallet that night, I felt awkward. My folks, particularly my father, wouldn’t be any happier about having Keith at home with us than I would have been before we’d found ourselves marooned here. What on earth had I promised? When we huddled down under the blanket, Keith giggled. “Remember the night at the bay? When ye saved me? Remember after? No funny stuff.” He rolled over and only minutes later snored. Keith was right, I did like Davey better, and it wasn’t only because Davey was my cousin. Keith could be very abrasive and irritating, and yes, coarse. His gesture that night, in coming to me, showed a caring side I wouldn’t have guessed at. I sighed and shifted. For all their squabbling, he was closest to Davey. 99

RULES OF THE HUNT Long after Keith had gone to sleep, I lay, afraid to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Keith, face twisted in pain, on the rack. Finally, exhausted, I slept.

He looked familiar somehow. He turned slowly, awkwardly. Movement was obviously difficult and painful and the brown robed figure made full use of the staff it carried. Now facing me directly, he threw back the hood or cowl of the robe. It was Keith, an older Keith, a man, face lined with pain, but smiling. He was wearing round his neck a heavy, Celtic cross on a chain. Next to the cross, hung Davey’s Möbius loop on a hide lace. Keith grinned at me. “Yer mind and the Duke’s mind together, brought us here. Yer mind alone can return ye and yer mates. The Duke must die, but no in anger. Absolvo te.” “Will we all live?” “Aye. As the Old Ones say, there is nae beginnin’ an nae end, jist bein’.” The Keith-man raised his staff and held it out over my head, using both hands. “In nomen Patri, Filus et Spiritus Sancti, go in peace.”

I woke in a cold sweat, trembling. Keith, breathing noisily, was nestled against me. I lay till dawn looking at Keith and wondering what the dream meant, if anything.

100

HUGH McCRACKEN

101

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Keith and I spent the morning shifting grain sacks then bagging the coarse flour the grindstone produced. Jack, after starting us off, left the mill to canvass his supporters. Bernard arrived at the mill in mid-afternoon. “Master Simmons and his escort have been seen on the trail not far out of town,” he gasped out. “They have Andrew of the Forest with them, bound, on horseback.” We ran out to the track. When Master Simmons saw the townspeople lining the road to the castle he frowned, put his hand on his sword hilt and ordered the Captain to have his men close round Andrew. The onlookers fell in behind Master Simmons and his escort. The small procession moved on in an eerie silence. When the group was almost at the bridge, hard, round objects started to rain down; dried rowan berries. It was impossible to say where they came from. The crowd sighed, then it was silent again. At the bridge, a man in a brown habit stepped out to the centre of the path, his right hand raised. Master Simmons and his escort reined in quickly. “The Abbot. The Abbot from the monastery.” The whisper swept through the crowd. “Master Simmons,” the Abbot said in a loud clear voice, heard all across the crowd. “I would accompany 102

HUGH McCRACKEN my cousin, Andrew of the Forest, to his lodgings in the castle. There to offer him the solace of Mother Church. I assume you have no objection.” The Abbot stepped through the horsemen round Andrew, and nodded to the Captain to go on. In total silence, the crowd watched the group enter the castle. When Master Simmons and his escort had disappeared into the castle, the crowd quietly split up. Keith and I ran back to the mill, while Bernard went home to the tannery. At the mill, Mike and the three adults joined us. “That went well,” Jack said, “but I don’t know how long the town people will support us as they did today.” “A couple of floggings or a hanging would cool their support quickly,” Robert said. “Andrew is safe for a few days while Master Simmons considers, but not afterwards. What news is there of the Friends of the Rowan, Thomas?” “The boys might well sway them in our favour. They have sent for Samuel the Shepherd. We will have you boys meet with Samuel again, before you meet the group.” There was a sound outside the mill, and we all stopped. Jack went quietly to the entrance, then returned with the man in the brown habit. “My Lord Abbot,” I said, bowing. The Abbot laughed. “For demons and warlocks you are very courteous and unafraid of my office. Andrew is right. You are but boys.” He blessed each of us in turn. “Where is Davey?” I explained Davey’s absence and our hope he would 103

RULES OF THE HUNT rejoin us soon. “Now to the matter of Andrew,” said the Abbot. “I have managed to have him treated better than he otherwise might have been, but Simmons will not be patient long. I think I can persuade one of my flock to open doors, but someone will have to enter the castle to rescue Andrew. Can it be done?” “Yes. When is the only question,” Robert said. “I will return to the castle to make arrangements,” said the Abbot. “Shall we say the night of the day after tomorrow?” They all went home. Keith again opted to remain with me in Davey’s absence. When we lay down, Keith moved closer to me. After two sleepless nights, I was tired and I dropped off quickly.

Tonight I recognised the robe. It was the habit the Abbot had worn. Keith smiled and raised his hand in greeting or blessing. “Remember. No’ in anger. Hate the sin, no’ the sinner. Ye’re a communicator. Dinnae be afraid o’ the gift. Use it wisely. Yer mind can take ye back. Sleep well.”

In the morning, Keith decided to go home to the tannery. “Bernard and Jonathon might need a hand. There’s a load of work tae dae. See ye at the smithy later.” I worked steadily all morning on my own at the mill. 104

HUGH McCRACKEN Jack was out again. Towards noon, Davey arrived, dusty, bloodstained, and tired. “They got Andrew,” he said. “I was too late. By the time I got there, they’d been and gone. Walter blames us. He really beat up on me — knocked me out cold in our fight. When I came round, Walter was gone, and I came straight back here.” I brought Davey up to date on the events while he was away and washed caked blood off his cuts and bruises. Bernard burst in. “The men-at-arms from the castle took him,” he blurted out, in tears. “Took who?” I said. “Your father?” “No, Keith. They had a young man with them. He looked like Walter, son of Andrew of the Forest. Keith was outside the tannery. Two men grabbed Keith. They hurt him. The other came inside, but Walter said, ‘No, not them.’ I ran here as fast as I could. Jonathon went to try and find Pa or Robert the Smith.” “What should we do?” Davey said. “Nothing,” came Robert the Smith’s voice from the door. “You stay here till dark. Michael will stay inside the smithy. Walter doesn’t know where you are, and I pray Master Simmons won’t question Keith yet. Tonight after dark, you will move to the stable loft at the saddler’s. There, you will meet Samuel. We will all decide then how best to hide you. Bernard, go home, and tell of this to no one.” Davey and I made our way up to the storage loft for grain sacks. We made a nest for ourselves in the sacks and settled down to wait. 105

RULES OF THE HUNT “What will happen to Keith?” Davey said. “I hope Master Simmons won’t do anything till the Duke gets back. Keith might only be locked up for a while, until we rescue him and Andrew.” “What does the rack do to you?” I shuddered. The memory of my dreams was not comforting. It took forever to get dark. Davey and I lay in our dim nest in the storage loft. We talked about the summer I had spent on the island and about the events since our arrival here. “I passed Colin’s cairn both ways,” Davey said. “It’s quite big now.” At dusk, when it was already quite dark in the storage loft, Mike’s voice said, “Prof, Davey, you up there?” “Yes, Mike. Up the ladder,” I said. Mike joined us in the loft. “We are to go to the saddler’s. Samuel should be waiting there. Robert says we are to take Davey’s mask.” Cautiously we crept through the dark town. We moved from one place to another, one at a time with a pause between each move and kept as far as possible to the shadows. At one point, we had to stay hidden and separated until the watch passed. The saddler’s looked deserted. Davey and I crouched in the shadows of the yard while Mike investigated. “Psst. Over here,” Mike whispered. We stepped into the dark stables and moved quietly to the hayloft. A hand touched Davey and he squealed. “Close the door,” Thomas said. A dark lantern 106

HUGH McCRACKEN opened. After the blackness, its feeble light was enough to see those present.

107

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Masters. I am pleased to meet with you again.” “Samuel. We are pleased to see you,” I said. “You remember my grandson?” “Yes.” Davey laughed. “He rescued me from the ram.” “When we last met,” Samuel said, “I did warn choosing to come as boys placed you at a disadvantage. Master Keith presumably could not use his powers to avoid capture. Or was it necessary that he be sacrificed, like Colin, to build your power for the conflict at The Hunt?” Davey opened his mouth to protest, but I gripped his upper arm tightly and whispered, “Quiet. This isn’t the time.” “We have been asked by Thomas the Tanner,” Samuel went on, “if we will help rescue Andrew of the Forest and your brother. We do recognise Andrew to be the true heir of the last of our natural chiefs from the time before the strangers came and made us landless peasants in our own land.” “He’s off,” Robert whispered. Davey giggled and I kicked his ankle. “The fact that he lives,” Samuel went on, “and is known, means the gods have a purpose for him. What happens, the gods allow to happen. We have not in the 108

HUGH McCRACKEN past interfered in the physical plane, that is not our function. Why, Masters, should we change? Why should we break the rule that has stood us in good stead these many generations, handed down from our forefathers? Even from before the House of Andrew of the Forest was known. The present rulers came, and in time will go. Our rule goes on.” There was a silence that I finally broke. “Samuel, you believe we are warlocks, come, or sent, to fight and destroy the Duke and his Huntsman. You yourself said, ‘What happens, the gods allow to happen.’ We are not here to unseat the Duke and to place Andrew in the seat of power, but Andrew is needed for our plans. Andrew made it possible for us to find shelter for the winter.” “One on one, they could out jaw each other,” Davey whispered, and faded to silence when I glared at him. “You said it was an error in judgement on our part to come as beardless youths. Did I not answer that on our first meeting? For a test to be fair and valid, we had to come for a time, without power, as children.” I stopped again, to think. Davey opened his mouth and shut it quickly when Mike punched him. “Not now, idiot,” Mike said in a stage whisper. “Are those who would not help a child, worthy of help? Is the Duke the ruler you deserve? Allowed by the gods to rule? Or even, sent by the gods to punish you?” I stared at Samuel, and after a long moment he looked away. “I will speak to the others,” Samuel said at last. “I am convinced. Jamie and I will help even if the others 109

RULES OF THE HUNT will not. I will go now to meet with the others in the grove. Join us there shortly.” Jack clapped me on the back, and said, “You spoke well, lad. I was proud of you.” Thomas nodded.

At the Rowan Grove, the moon shone as it had done on the night we arrived. When we got there with Thomas, Robert, and Jack, the group already present turned and stared at us. We dropped the hooded cloaks we had been wearing. “These are they,” Samuel said. We moved back into the shadows and Davey put his Halloween mask over his head. When he stepped back into the full moonlight flanked by Mike and me, each with a hand on Davey’s shoulder, there was a gasp from the group. We stood still for a minute then returned to the shadows. When we walked into the light this time, our adults stepped forward with us. “We support Robert the Smith, Thomas the Tanner, and Jack the Miller in their attempt to rescue Andrew of the Forest and our brother Keith, from the castle. We ask your help in this undertaking,” I said, and bowed. “We thank you for your respect for our dead brother, Colin, and for your additions to his cairn.” My guess was obviously accurate. The members of the group of Friends exchanged glances, shuffling. One stepped forward and said, “Samuel the Shepherd has convinced us to break our long-standing rule. How can we help?” 110

HUGH McCRACKEN “The apothecary is one of your number,” Thomas said. “Could he provide us with a sleeping draught to place in the evening beer of the guards? At least one of your number is a servant at the castle. If he could administer the potion and open the postern for us when it is safe, we would do the rest.” “When would this be?” Samuel asked. “Tomorrow night,” Robert said. “No later. Agreed?” “Agreed,” Samuel said. “We will contact you through Thomas the Tanner as before. The apothecary will contact the Abbot in the castle tomorrow to inform him of this meeting. The Abbot must also take the sleeping draft to avoid suspicion.” Another of the Friends stepped forward. “We do this because Samuel convinced us. We will not go beyond the removal from the castle. We will not take part in a general revolt. However, we will be at the service of the Warlocks Who are Boys should they need our meagre aid.”

111

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Back at the town, the three adults went their separate ways, and we again started gliding from shadow to shadow. At one point, the town watch appeared and Davey skidded back into the shadowy corner where he’d left me. The two men of the watch moved towards where we stood clutched together and scarcely breathing. “They must have seen me,” Davey whispered. “Should we run?” Before I could reply, one man stopped, handed his flambeau to the other and raised his tunic. He slacked the waist cord of his breeches, and relieved himself against the wall. “I hear say the Duke will be back on the island, tomorrow or the day after,” he said. “Yes. There are great doings in the castle kitchen, my cousin says. Word came His Lordship will have guests with him. Will they hang Andrew of the Forest, think you?” “No. Why should they? He’ll keep for The Hunt.” “Some say he’s in league with the warlocks who were at the last Hunt. That is why Master Simmons took him.” “What of the boy the castle guard took today?” One watchman laughed, “They do say he is a 112

HUGH McCRACKEN warlock. He surely fought like a demon, as my cousin tells it. Bernard of the guard will be known as Bernard One Ear from now on. The boy bit it off. Bernard had but lifted the boy, who slithered like an eel, to stop him from running. The boy gave a battle cry of some sort and bit Bernard’s ear. It was so badly torn the barber took the rest off.” “Did the boy run?” “No. It seems Bernard was so amazed he let go, but another laid the boy low with a blow to the head. They carried him back to the castle. They wanted the boy safe in Master Simmons’s hands before he could fight again, so my cousin says.” “It would have been quicker and easier for the boy if the castle guard had simply killed him. May God have mercy on him. Come. Let’s be about our business.” Davey and I waited till the watch had passed out of sight before we ran to join Mike. Safely in the loft, we recounted what we had overheard, and we all laughed at Keith’s battle cry. “Poor Bernard One Ear, when he was trying to hold Keith squirming in his arms he must have slipped a hand up inside Keith’s tunic. You know Keith’s, ‘Hey, no funny stuff’.” Davey laughed again. “Do you think with the Duke coming, Master Simmons will hold off his questioning till he gets here?” “God, I hope so,” I said. “The rescue is set for tomorrow night.” For a moment, I was silent. Then I said, “Don’t laugh, please. Please, don’t laugh. I want to pray for Keith. God can’t possibly want him tortured.” Half blinded with tears, I stumbled to a corner of the 113

RULES OF THE HUNT stable loft and knelt. I was surprised when I opened my eyes and looked round to see Mike and Davey kneeling on either side of me. All three of us rose. “Thanks,” I said, “I don’t know if it’ll do Keith or Andrew any good, but I feel better. How can God let monsters like Simmons live?” Davey put his arm round me. “Maybe God won’t let Simmons live much longer,” Mike said. “Let’s bed down for the night.” Like three pups, we huddled together in the straw, Davey in the middle. Davey squirmed. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’ve got to pee.” Mike and I laughed. “When the last bugle sounds, Davey will ask them to wait because he has to pee,” I said. “And Keith will say, ‘Hey, no funny stuff’.” Settled at last, Mike and Davey fell into a deep sleep quickly, but I couldn’t shake my vision of Keith on the rack.

114

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The day passed slowly. At one point, I dozed ...

Someone screamed. I struggled against whatever was holding my hands level with my head. Keith writhed on the rack. Simmons smiled. “The child is more robust than he first seemed.” I struggled again.

“Prof ... Prof. What’s up with you?” Mike was kneeling beside me and Davey, chewing at his lower lip, was peering over Mike’s shoulder. We were snappy and bad tempered with each other the rest of the afternoon. Robert, Thomas, and Jack arrived shortly after dusk. “Jack has arranged for a small boat to be carried to the moat at full dark,” Robert said. “Thomas, Peter, Michael, and I will enter the castle through the postern. Jack and Davey will take the boat back to the other side and stay with the boat.” “Why can’t I come into the castle too?” Davey asked. 115

RULES OF THE HUNT “Peter and Michael already know their way around the castle and they’re bigger,” Robert said. “Will everyone be asleep, Robert?” I said. “I hope so. If we can get in and out without an alarm, the Friends will spread word it was an enchantment by which Keith and Andrew escaped. The one who opens and closes the Duke’s private door to the dungeons for us will also take some of the draft after we leave so he too will be found asleep.” “We should all blacken our faces and the backs of our hands,” Mike said. “Faces shine in the moonlight.” We used soot from the dark lantern to smear each other’s faces and the backs of our hands. Quietly, moving shadow to shadow, one at a time, we met again at the moat opposite the postern. We lay for some time concealed in the bushes at the edge of the water. “The moon will be up soon,” whispered Robert. Mike edged closer to him. “Robert, will you take this,” Mike said. “It’s my snare wire. I put two wooden handles on it while we waited at the saddler’s. If you make a loop and drop it over someone’s head and pull tight quickly, you can choke them quickly, but you need to be strong to do it properly.” “It’s a garrotte, a metal garrotte,” Robert said. “Yes, I’ll take it. Hush, what was that?” There was a sound from the other side of the moat followed by a brief flash of light as someone opened and closed a dark lantern. “That’s our signal. Let’s go,” Thomas said. Across the moat, Robert, Mike, Thomas, and I 116

HUGH McCRACKEN sprinted up the bank to the postern. The small door cut in the main postern gate opened at our touch and we climbed through. The guard slumped, snoring gently, by the gate. We ran round the courtyard to the door we were told was the Duke’s private entrance to the dungeons. “It’s still locked,” Robert said. Then we heard the bolts slip back and the door opened. In silence, we crept down the stairs to the dungeon door and filed into the cell passageway. We peered into each in turn. They were all empty. Robert turned the lantern into the torture chamber. Andrew was shackled to the wall, his hands above his head. He blinked in the light of the lantern. “It’s us. Robert, Thomas, and the boys,” Robert whispered moving towards him. “Where’s Keith?” Andrew tried to speak, but only managed to cough and incline his head towards the rack. When the lantern shone on the rack, it was my nightmare. Keith lay naked. Thomas sprang forward, and with a few strokes of his hand axe chopped through the ropes holding Keith’s hands. He turned to the stock-like device securing the ankles. A simple cotter pin held it in place and Keith’s ankles were soon free. Robert meantime had freed Andrew and we all crowded round the rack. Keith moaned at the first touch. I sobbed. “His ankles and knees; look at them.” “Let’s get back to the gate,” Robert said. “The apothecary will see to him for us.” There was a sound from the top of the stairs leading from the guardroom. The door opened and a figure 117

RULES OF THE HUNT came down carrying a lantern. Robert stood in the angle of the chamber wall and the staircase, hidden from anyone on the stair. The figure reached the bottom of the staircase. It took one step into the chamber. Thomas opened his lantern and it shone directly in the face of Master Simmons. “What’s going on he…” he started. Robert stepped behind him, dropped the loop over Simmons’s head, and pulled. His lip curled, Robert thrust the body away from him. Gently Robert lifted Keith who screamed then slumped against him. “Quickly. Let’s go,” Thomas said. We fled down the cell passageway and through the end door, bolting it behind us. When we were through the private entrance, we heard the bolt shot behind us. At the postern, the guard shifted in his sleep. Thomas climbed through the narrow door in the gate and Robert passed Keith through to him before the rest clambered through. The door shut quietly and we heard the bar drop. Thomas signalled with the lantern and Davey and Jack quietly poled the boat across the moat. On the other side, we clambered up the moat bank and gently handed Keith up to two of the Friends. “A door. Get a door to carry the boy on,” one whispered. “Can you get the apothecary to the saddler’s stable loft to see to the boy?” Robert whispered. “Yes. As soon as the boat is back in its place at the harbour. Leave now, quickly.” When we reached the stable Andrew said, “I’m fine. 118

HUGH McCRACKEN I was only thrown in a cell, and I was there till this morning. When Simmons brought Keith in, he had them chain me to the wall so I could watch. Simmons is — was — mad. He wasn’t seeking information. He enjoyed hurting Keith and having him hurt by others. What you did, Robert, was too quick and merciful.” We then sat quietly awaiting the apothecary. Davey huddled against Andrew, crushed in his arms.

119

CHAPTER NINETEEN

By the time the apothecary arrived, Keith was conscious and in great pain. After a careful examination, the apothecary drew aside out of Keith’s earshot. “I have no skills for his injuries. I can do no more than give him a draught to make him sleep. Grown men have died of such treatment. “There has been no alarm from the castle and the town watch has seen nothing. Take the child to the church, but don’t be seen on the way. The draught should make him sleep well into tomorrow. He should be found there. It will be a miracle. That is the best I can do. You were not seen at all?” Robert grinned. “Master Simmons saw us, but he will say nothing. I imagine he is now too busy going over accounts with the recording angel. He lost his head.” The apothecary paled. “Lost his head? In what way?” “It parted from his body, yet no weapon known in this kingdom was used,” I said. The apothecary gazed at me in horror. “He was not in a state of grace and his sins will send him straight to hell.” The apothecary crossed himself hastily and turned to his patient. Gently raising Keith’s head, he poured a 120

HUGH McCRACKEN small quantity of liquid from a vial into my friend’s mouth. “He will sleep now. You can move him shortly without his feeling any pain. You cannot further damage his joints, but cover him. The cold, in his state, could kill.” We waited while Keith’s laboured breathing slowly quietened. Andrew asked, “How came Keith to be taken? Whose carelessness caused this?” No one answered. Andrew glared from one to the other. Finally Thomas spoke. “No carelessness, cousin. A deliberate act.” Before Thomas could go on, Davey blurted out. “It was Walter, Andrew. He beat up on me, and turned Keith in to the castle guard.” Andrew glared from one to the other, becoming redder at each nod or downcast look. With an oath, Andrew lurched to his feet and retreated to the far corner of the hayloft, and stood with his back to us. Hesitantly, Davey followed him. After a pause, he put a hand on the man’s arm. Andrew shook Davey’s hand off at first, but then swung round to enfold Davey in his arms and hold him hard. The tableau held for a long time. The bear hug slackened and we could see Davey cling to Andrew, weeping. Davey beside him, one huge arm round his shoulder, Andrew strode back to the group. “Get Keith to the church. We will all go.” The tone allowed no argument: it was a direct order. 121

RULES OF THE HUNT With Mike and me scouting ahead, we carried Keith to the church. “Right here in front of the altar, behind the altar rail,” Andrew said. “Place the cross in his hands. Right, now a vigil lamp at head and foot.” Andrew examined the scene. “Now hear this,” Andrew knelt at Keith’s head beside the altar. He placed one hand on the altar and the other on Keith’s head. “By this altar, by this cross, by the Sacred Rowan, by the honour of my House, by this child, I have from this moment no son named Walter. I will not raise my hand against him, but I will not extend my protection to him. He no longer exists. These are my sons, Davey, Michael, Peter and Keith. I so swear. I call on you and the Gods to witness. He who raises his hand against them strikes at me. He who aids them is my friend and the friend of my House.” “Amen,” Robert, Jack, and Thomas said. “Let us get back. Things must seem normal most places by dawn,” Robert said. “We will return to our homes. Andrew, will you sleep with the boys in the saddler’s hay loft?”

When we got there, I felt I had to be with Keith. “I’m going back. I can’t leave Keith alone there.” “Robert said to stay put,” Mike said. “Go. Stand vigil with your brother.” Andrew smiled. “Leave in time to preserve the miracle. Return here before dawn.” I ran back to the church. Keith had not moved. I knelt, took his hand, and squatted beside him before 122

HUGH McCRACKEN the altar. The vigil lights at each end of Keith’s litter threw flickering shadows on the walls of the otherwise dark church. Although I knew Keith couldn’t hear me, I talked quietly to him about events from the past and our hopes for the future. At some point, I must have drifted off and realised with a start it was almost dawn. “I’ve got to go now. Help will be here soon. Please be okay, please.” With a last squeeze on Keith’s hand, I started to leave. At the last minute, I heard a footstep at the church door and slid into a niche with a banner draped in front of it. I climbed onto the stone ledge and was completely hidden from view. The first rays of the dawn sun crept through the high window and I heard the church door open. The verger entered and started towards the altar. He stopped when he saw Keith lying there and ran out. In a short time, he returned with the priest who advanced and examined Keith. “Run at once to the castle. Inform the Abbot. Ask that he come here at once.” The priest started his first mass, carefully walking round Keith’s litter.

“What is the problem, Sir Priest?” The Abbot said. “My Lord Abbot, see for yourself.” “Kyrie elyson. Christi elyson. It is the child who was brought into the castle the day before yesterday.” The Abbot knelt and examined Keith quickly. “I shall return to the castle and bring back the barber-surgeon. Meanwhile, no one, no matter what authority is claimed, is to touch the child. No one, not even the 123

RULES OF THE HUNT Duke himself, on pain of instant excommunication. Do I make myself clear, Father?” “Yes, My Lord Abbot.” While the priest waited, curious townspeople began to filter into the church. After some time, someone ran in and soon the church was buzzing like a beehive. “They say Master Simmons was struck down last night and his prisoners miraculously transported out of the castle dungeons.” “No one saw or heard anything. Some enchantment no doubt.” “Master Simmons’s head was struck off, but no weapon has been found nor any mark of weapon.” “There would be no room to swing a sword with force enough to behead in the dungeon.” “All gates were locked and doors to the dungeon secure.” “A miracle for sure.” “Hush. The Abbot.” The Abbot strode in with the barber-surgeon trotting at his heels. “What are all these people doing here, Father?” the Abbot said. “Clear the church. Come, Master Barber, attend the child.” The priest and the verger started to move the parishioners out, but there was a commotion at the door. The townspeople parted and the Duke and an escort walked in. “What is the meaning of this disorder, Sir Priest?” the Duke said. The priest bowed low and, with one hand, indicated the presence of the Abbot. 124

HUGH McCRACKEN “My Lord Duke. Welcome back,” the Abbot said and bowed. “My Lord Abbot. Can you explain why I arrived to no greeting at the harbour, apparently unnoticed by the castle lookout?” Before the Abbot could reply, the castle steward puffed in and bowed deeply. He approached the Duke and in a low voice I couldn’t hear, spoke for some time. The Duke’s face purpled and he stepped forward. “In God’s name, what has happened here? Master Simmons killed. My authority flouted,” he barked. “Take that back to the castle.” He gestured at Keith’s litter and his escort moved forward. The Abbot stepped in front of the advancing menat-arms. “In God’s name, My Lord Duke, no. Master Simmons was struck down. Whether by human hand, or enchantment, or Divine Judgement, I cannot tell.” The Abbot’s voice rose to fill the church as if he were preaching a sermon. “This innocent child, I declare a ward of the monastery.” He paused, glanced at a window in the sidewall, before he looked back at Keith. Slowly, theatrically I thought, the Abbot made the sign of the cross with his staff, and went on, “This Holy Child ...” There was a gasp from the assembly when the sun came out from behind a cloud and a shaft of light fell on Keith. “... this Holy Child did not cause the death of Master Simmons. Master Simmons caused his own death.

125

RULES OF THE HUNT

“My Lord Duke, I cannot deny your right of law to hunt those who break your laws. I question why the boys who appeared at the last Hunt should be hunted, but I leave that judgement to God. “I hereby extend my protection as Abbot to the wife of Andrew of the Forest and to his daughters. I pronounce here, excommunication ipso facto, post facto on anyone who harms, or by any means causes to be harmed, Andrew’s wife, his daughters, or this Holy Child.” All at once ... I stood in the centre of the church facing the Abbot. A boy, on a door, lay between me and the altar. My stomach knotted in anger, a vein throbbed in my temple, I opened my mouth to shout ... I was back in my niche, an onlooker. “My Lord Abbot, you have not this right, this 126

HUGH McCRACKEN authority,” the Duke shouted. “My Lord Duke, with all respect, you err. As Abbot, I do have this right. I have the rank of bishop on this island. Only the Archbishop can remove me. Even then, I can appeal to Rome, to the Pope himself. Doubt not that I can and will excommunicate. I have in no way interfered with your temporal authority. The innocent I have placed under my protection shall not be touched. If I have not this authority, may God strike me dead now.” The Abbot paused. The assembly stood silent. The Duke and the Abbot glared at each other for a long instant, before the Duke turned away. “On to the castle,” the Duke snapped, and he and his entourage withdrew from the church. “Clear the church. Master Barber, see to the child. Father, find someone reliable to send to the monastery. I require my own apothecary to attend me here and to accompany the child to the monastery. I also require six strong, young monks with stout arms and stout cudgels, not yet holy enough to be reluctant to use both.” On cat feet the Abbot moved to my niche and moved the banner to one side. “Come out now, child. It is safe. Ah, it is you, Peter.” The Abbot studied me for a moment, then shook his head and said, “unfortunately, I cannot, as Abbot, extend my protection to you or your brothers, or to Andrew. Andrew is my cousin and I shall, of course, do all I can to help him and, since it is very obviously his wish, to aid you.” I nodded. “I see, My Lord. You have to play by the 127

RULES OF THE HUNT rules. Walk the tightrope.” I grinned. “You do bend them a little though, don’t you? The bit with the beam of sunlight from the window.” The Abbot frowned. “God himself chose the moment to illuminate the child.” “But you knew it was going to happen and used it.” Again, the Abbot frowned, then he smiled. “You are a very perceptive young man. You could go far in the Church.” We sat without speaking for a short time before I said, “will Keith be all right?” “That is in the hands of God. I sense Keith is one of the Elect of God. Whether that means he is destined for great things here on earth or for an early direct ascent into heaven, I don’t know. Go back behind the banner, Peter. The priest and the verger I trust, but I would prefer the barber-surgeon did not know you were here.”

“Strange, My Lord Abbot, I thought I saw someone with you when I turned from the altar,” the barber said. “No, Master Barber, the priest, the verger and myself. What of the child?” “I’ve done my best, My Lord Abbot. I think I have reseated the joints, but only time will tell. There is much swelling. I have done all I can, My Lord.” “For your sake, for your soul’s sake, I certainly hope so, Master Barber. Will the child live?” “Whoever dosed him made certain he slept through the worst time. If he wakes, I think he will live. He might not walk again, or if he does, only with pain and 128

HUGH McCRACKEN difficulty.” “Damn Master Simmons. Damn him for all eternity. May he roast in hell forever,” the Abbot said. “You may go, Master Barber, thank you.” “May I have Your Lordship’s blessing?” “You shall have my blessing or my curse when I see how well you have treated the child.” “Some say hot fomentations packed round the joints will help, and others swear by cold clothes, well wrung out, to reduce the swelling and perhaps lessen the damage to the joints. I have seen both used to equally good and bad effect. I can do no more, My Lord.” “Go in peace, Master Barber,” the Abbot said. The Abbot waited till the barber had gone before he pulled aside the banner. “The priest can get us something to eat later. Starving will not help Keith. He sleeps still. You stood vigil with your brother?” I nodded. “Will you serve mass for me?” “Certainly, My Lord.” Mentally, I thanked God for the old priest at home who had made us altar boys learn the old Latin mass. “This mass is dedicated to Keith for his recovery or his direct ascent to heaven,” the Abbot started. I smiled. Hedging your bets, I thought. All through the mass the Abbot stared at me: the same intense scrutiny Andrew had given me at Joseph’s, the same eyes, kindly like Andrew’s but, like Andrew’s, stern. Later, the Abbot said, “He is not truly your brother: your brother of the flesh?” 129

RULES OF THE HUNT “No, My Lord Abbot.” “Father would be better in private.” “No, Father. When we first met Samuel and Andrew, we said we were brothers and somehow it seemed right to go on doing so. Davey is my cousin; Mike and Keith are boys from Davey’s home town. Davey’s mother is my mother’s sister.” “Yes. You and Davey do resemble each other despite his red hair. You smiled during my mass. Why?” “The mass is a joyful celebration, is it not, My Lo… Father.” “Touché, Peter. It is. You serve as one who understands the words, not from rote.” “I know enough Latin, Father.” He laughed. “More than some priests do. I daresay you can read and write?” “Yes, Father. We all can.” Lips pursed, thumb under his chin, he rubbed his forefinger up and down his cheek. “Whoever, whatever you are, Andrew is right. You are not evil. Whether evil or good brought you here is another matter. You have the look of the Duke about you.” At my horrified start, the Abbot laughed. “Don’t be offended. I don’t mean you behave like the Duke. God forbid. You resemble him when he was a young man. You are still upset? Andrew and I are related to the Duke on the distaff side. His grandfather married our grandmother’s younger sister. On the birth of a male heir, he was granted the land. Andrew is the oldest son, of the oldest daughter, of the oldest daughter of the 130

HUGH McCRACKEN last true chief of our own race. You resemble the Duke, as Andrew and I resemble him. Even a good tree can have a weak branch that bears poor fruit. Hate not the Duke but his sins.” “Hate the sin, not the sinner,” I said. “Well said. Aptly put,” the Abbot said. “I didn’t say it, Keith did in my dream. Keith was dressed like you, holding a staff. But you damned Simmons.” The Abbot laughed. “Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. I shall do penance later for my fit of ill will and lack of charity towards Master Simmons, but I still feel if anyone ever deserved damning it was Simmons. God will judge him: my damning will make no difference one way or the other. You are right. None of us is perfect. You say Keith appeared to you in a dream? Tell me about it.” I described Keith’s appearances, including his parting, ‘No funny stuff.’ ” “What does ‘No funny stuff’ mean?” the Abbot said. “Keith shouted that before he bit poor Bernard One Ear.” I shifted from foot to foot, fiddled with my fingers, and felt my face burn. I shouldn’t have mentioned the slogan, I thought. Oh boy, I’d die if I had to explain it to my folks. But the Abbot was a priest after all. It would be like in the confessional — but without the privacy screen. I gulped. “It means fooling around with someone, touching them. Touching the privates, or any place else, to try and make them feel sexy. Feeling them up,” I said, my face on fire. 131

RULES OF THE HUNT The Abbot burst out laughing and took a little time before he could speak. “Poor Bernard One Ear. I have heard his confession and without breaking the seal of the confessional I can say Keith misjudged him sorely when he bit his ear off.” The Abbot and I talked till the priest brought us some bread and cheese, which we ate sitting on the floor, leaning against the church wall in a patch of sunlight. The heat of the sun, the edge taken off my hunger, and night without sleep caught up on me and I slept. I woke with a start, not sure where I was. Then I saw the Abbot kneeling at the altar. “Can we see how Keith is, Father?” “Surely, but I don’t expect any change.” Keith still lay on his back, but I thought he looked a little better. The face was more relaxed and both feet were in an almost normal position. While we watched, he moaned and moved. One hand caught the blanket and threw it to one side. Keith’s eyes opened, totally unfocused at first. Then his face and eyes became terror-stricken. He started to scream. I knelt quickly beside him and took his hand. “It’s okay now, Keith. It’s Pete, and the Abbot. We’re in church,” I said. “Simmons is dead. He can’t hurt you now.” Keith tried to sit up, but moving, he moaned aloud and fell back. “Lie down beside him,” the Abbot said. “He needs the comfort of you close to him, but be careful of his knees and ankles, they will be extremely painful.” I lay down and held Keith’s hand tightly. The stone floor was hard and cold under me. 132

HUGH McCRACKEN The Abbot put the blanket back over us. “No funny stuff, you two,” he said. Keith smiled wanly and the Abbot grinned. “That’s better.” Keith turned his head to me and said, “I hate to do a Davey on you, Pete, but I have to go. I need a pee.” “Father, can we move him?” I said. “No. Not until my apothecary has seen him. Wait, I will fetch something.” Shortly, the Abbot returned with a carafe. “Can you sit up, my son?” he said. Keith attempted to sit up, but with a yelp fell back. “Will you perform this service for your brother?” the Abbot said, handing the carafe to me. Keith was in a cold sweat from attempting to sit up and simply lay as I adjusted the carafe. “Okay, Keith,” I said. Finished, Keith said, “thanks,” and closed his eyes, exhausted. I started to rise, but the Abbot put out his hand for the carafe. As I handed it to him, I saw the urine was blood red. Shocked, I started, “Why?” Holding his hand up for silence the Abbot said, “I’ll see to this, Peter. You stay with Keith.” When he came back, the Abbot knelt at the altar. “Keith is asleep again, Father. Should I kneel with you to pray for him?” “No, you can pray as well from where you are. Your presence and comfort is a prayer.” I must have dozed off once more. I wakened with a start to see the Abbot greet an older man and overheard the Abbot say, “the local apothecary gave him a draught. He slept all night and well into this 133

RULES OF THE HUNT afternoon. He has passed some blood. I have it here.” The apothecary held the carafe the Abbot handed him up to the light and sniffed cautiously at it. “Hmm. I’ll examine him now,” he said. I watched the apothecary explore Keith’s injuries. When his legs were touched, Keith woke and groaned. “Shortly, I will give you something for the pain, child, to make you sleep again. But first I must examine your injuries and you are best to be awake, to tell me where and how you hurt.” The examination over, the apothecary prepared to give Keith a draught. “When next you wake, you will be in the hospital at the monastery, Keith. I will be there to tend you.” “How is he, sir?” I said. “Will he be all right?” The apothecary glanced at the Abbot who shrugged then nodded. “The hip is well positioned and should recover,” the apothecary said, “but the knees are very swollen, and one kneecap may be broken. The left ankle has something wrong with the tendon. I fear the bloody urine is a very bad sign. There is a big bruise on the left, at the small of his back. I will keep him quiet and still for several days. The bloody urine may remedy itself. I have some medicines that sometimes prove effective for such injuries. I have, however, seen grown men die of such injuries although they were healthy enough otherwise. I am sorry, boy, I cannot tell you better news,” the apothecary concluded. “We will pray for him at the monastery. God willing, he may recover.” The young monks had made a litter of two poles and a blanket. 134

HUGH McCRACKEN “No. No. Dunderheads. That will not do. He must be carried on the board he lies on.” The apothecary scolded. “Tie him to it to prevent him slipping. Gently, gently. You are not preparing him for the rack. He has already been there. Now, you lift him and his board onto the litter you have made and secure the board to the litter.” The apothecary fussed while they made their preparations to leave. One young monk grimaced and the apothecary said, “Even with his board he is a light burden. Count your blessings that you are carrying the board and not lying on it. Should you tire unduly and he becomes too burdensome for you, speak to the Abbot. He will give you relief.” The young monk flushed scarlet. “Oh no, Father. I could not so burden the Abbot.” “Carrying this child is prayer and penance. You will be blessed for this work,” the Abbot said. “We will start at once.” “But it will be dark soon, My Lord Abbot,” the young monk said. “Men prefer darkness to light, my son. We dare not wait. We could be attacked even here. I would prefer to be on the road. We are eight, including the apothecary and myself. Four will carry the litter, and four will escort. I freely give you dispensation this night to break heads and fight if need be, to defend this child. Peter, we leave now. You wait till it is full dark, then join the others. Go in peace, Peter. May God protect you till we meet again.”

135

RULES OF THE HUNT

136

CHAPTER TWENTY

I ran to the hayloft over the saddler’s stable when it was dark enough to be safe. On my arrival, Andrew bear-hugged me, but cuffed me soundly after. “You had us worried,” Andrew said. “You were to return before dawn.” Davey punched my arm hard and grinned when I punched him back lightly. “Don’t ever do that again,” Davey said. “How’s Keith?” I reported on Keith’s injuries, the apothecary’s diagnosis, and on their departure for the monastery, before I moved back a little in time to describe the Duke’s arrival and the words between the Abbot and the Duke. Most of my conversation with the Abbot I kept to myself, but I did tell them what the Abbot had said about Andrew and the Duke being related, and about me looking like the Duke. Andrew nodded. “You and Davey do have the look of the Duke about you. If you truly come from the future, you may well be of our line.” “Any word from the others?” I said. “Any news from the town or the castle?” “No, nothing at all. Your news is the first we’ve had all day,” Andrew said. “You boys should now return to

137

RULES OF THE HUNT the forest, and between now and The Hunt you must get to know every inch of this island and the forest. The woods are thick enough that someone who really knows them can evade capture, provided they are careful and alert. You can hunt. Some Friends will provide you with flour, meal, and bannocks.” “But, Andrew, you’ll be with us, won’t you?” Davey said. “No, I won’t. We will meet again from time to time, but I must be with my people and that means staying closer to town and the hamlets than I wish you to be. Winter is past. There are still cold nights, but you can survive again in the forest, and it is you who must learn.” “Are you going to start a revolution, Andrew?” Davey said. Andrew considered the question seriously, waving down both Mike and I when we started to tell Davey not to be foolish. “I am not a great warrior. We could, I think, force a siege on the Duke. I think we could even triumph in such a tactic, providing the neighbouring lords did not send troops to relieve him. They would probably wait till his defeat was certain, and then move in both to crush us and to take this domain.” “Then what’s the point? We might as well pack it in now,” Davey said. “There are other ways of winning,” Andrew said. “Our people will survive, must survive. These foreign lords marry with our people. Their blood is diluted. Their children grow up here and absorb our ways from those who rear them; why do you think the Friends are 138

HUGH McCRACKEN so willing to provide wet nurses and servants to look after the children? Over time, these foreigners become us. They will have vanished, will have been vanquished.” “That’s like the Chinese. Even after centuries of invasions, the Chinese are still the Chinese. The invaders are simply absorbed,” I said. “Who are the Chinese?” Andrew said, then after a quick look at my face hurried on. “No matter, we don’t have time for one of your explanations. You know of a race that has accomplished what I have described. “Our race and its ways will survive, will triumph. We must not struggle so hard that we are seen as a threat to be destroyed completely, but hard enough that our traditions and identity as a people remain in the minds of our people. We must be like water wearing away a stone, in time the stone is reduced but the living water, the stream, remains.” “But what about being a chief?” Davey said, “Don’t you want to be chief and have the castle?” Laughing, Andrew shook Davey gently. “Davey, Davey. I am chief. Sitting in the castle does not make the Duke chief, any more than living in a woodsman’s hut in the forest makes me any less than chief. Our people are very wary of such signs.” “But why fight then?” Davey said. “To survive and maintain ourselves and our ways,” Andrew said. “In every generation someone must point the way. Someone must be prepared to fight when the ruler is unfit or strays too far from our ways. It can be a lonely fight, as a general rising must not be allowed. Sometimes the leader must be sacrificed for the good 139

RULES OF THE HUNT of the people.” “What you are describing is a kind of passive resistance,” I said. “Passive resistance with some teeth, I suppose. You are one of the Old Ones, Andrew, aren’t you? One of the Friends? Maybe one of their leaders or at least high in their council, but you believe sometimes direct action is needed.” “I still think a revolution would be more fun,” Davey said. “You are as pigheaded and obstinate as I was at your age,” Andrew said. “Will you follow my instructions for the safety of all?” “Oh, yes, Andrew, I will.” “Michael, you are the practical one, lead wisely, teach Peter and Davey your skills of the forest, but heed Peter. He has wisdom beyond his years. He knows people. He is your link to the past and the future. Samuel tells me Peter is a communicator, a link, a channel.” “What about me?” Davey said. “Your time is not yet come, Davey, my son. Watch, listen, learn, and work with your brothers. You have the gift of loyalty. Heed Peter’s counsel.”

140

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Thomas and Robert did not appear till dusk next evening. “There were patrols in town yesterday,” Robert said. “We thought it best not to come, lest we be seen and followed.” Andrew nodded. “What news of the town and castle?” Robert cleared his throat and avoided eye contact with Andrew. “When the Duke returned to the castle, he was in a rage. All the guards who were on duty the night of the escape were paraded.” “What of Walter?” I said. Robert gazed at me. “Walter had been lodged with the kitchen servants. It seems Walter expected Andrew released in exchange for Keith. When Master Simmons began to torture Keith without releasing Andrew, Walter cried out to the servants that it had been promised his father would be set free. The servants laughed at him. Walter hanged himself sometime during the night of the escape. I am deeply grieved, Andrew, to bear such tidings.” Stony faced, Andrew said, “three of my sons are here with me. The other lies in pain at the monastery. I 141

RULES OF THE HUNT have no son, Walter. What other news?” “The postern guard and the lookout were hanged. All the others on duty were flogged,” Robert continued. “No one in town thinks the guards were to blame. They think the Warlocks Who Are Boys struck Master Simmons’s head off and spirited Andrew and Keith out of the castle. The Abbot’s defiance of the Duke in the church this morning has set the whole town abuzz.” “The guards who arrested Keith know he was with you, Thomas,” I said. “Are you and the others in danger?” “By chance, and our good luck if not theirs, the postern guard and the lookout who were hanged were two of the three who took Keith. The third is Bernard, now known as One Ear. He was seen with the Abbot before his party left town. Some say he was pleading with the Abbot for absolution. Anyway, he left town with the monks and took one end of Keith’s litter. His surcoat, bearing the Duke’s crest, he left lying in the middle of the roadway.” “When the Duke finds those who could inform him of where and when Keith was taken are all either dead or gone, he won’t be pleased,” Mike said. I drew Robert aside. “What of Walter’s body?” I said quietly. “Will he receive proper burial?” “The priest will not bury him in consecrated ground or offer prayers for him, a suicide,” Robert said. “Can you get the body? I know the words,” I said. “I don’t doubt you do.” Robert dropped his voice even lower. “We already have Walter’s body. Would you disregard Andrew in this?” 142

HUGH McCRACKEN “No, I will not defy Andrew. We will not ask him or tell him till after it is done. He has not actually said Walter should not be given proper burial, has he?” Robert laughed softly before he raised his voice. “Andrew, with your permission Peter is coming with Thomas and me; we have some business to finish. You will not wish to leave before full dark anyway.” To my surprise, we didn’t return to the blacksmith’s or the tannery but to the mill. Neither Robert nor Thomas questioned me when I detoured past the church and, after a short prayer, took a vial of holy water. At the mill, Jack had already dug a shallow grave in the wood lot behind the building. I stood at one end of the grave, and intoning Latin, sprinkled holy water into the freshly dug pit. “The ground is hallowed. Fetch Walter.” Without comment, Robert and Thomas brought Walter’s body wrapped in coarse sacking, and laid it in the grave. I made the sign of the cross over the body and said in Latin the words of committal. “I’m not sure I’m entitled to bury him as we did,” I said, “but in war, and other such times, a layman can perform the sacraments. The intention is what counts, I think. I’m sure the Abbot will tell us it was okay and say a requiem mass for Walter. If we’re finished, I should get back to the others.” Jack said, “I have some mulled ale and bread and cheese. It did not seem right to let Walter go without some ceremony. Will you eat and drink?” While we ate on our feet in the mill, I said, “Robert, I once described a weapon to you. A crossbow I called 143

RULES OF THE HUNT it. You said you could make me such a thing. Did you ever do so?” Robert smiled grimly. “I made four such weapons. They are remarkable. Michael shot an arrow, a quarrel he called it, into a block of wood from some eight paces away. I could not wrench it free, try as I might. You may have them tonight with the arrows Michael has made, but you will only need three. Keith will not be fit for the forest life.” “Thank you,” I said, “but I will need all four. I feel we will be four in the forest. Tell me, Jack, do you still have the silver pieces: the blood price for your son, Luke?” Jack was suddenly very wary. “Yes. Why?” “You once said to us you would, in time, see it returned to the Duke in a fitting manner. Robert, could you fashion Jack’s silver into heads for two quarrels in time for me to deliver them to the Duke and his Huntmaster during The Hunt?” Robert grinned. “With Jack’s permission, yes, and most willingly.”

144

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I picked up the four crossbows from Robert’s place and stashed them in the hay before climbing the ladder to the saddler’s loft. Andrew was deep in conversation with Samuel the Shepherd. “The boys will return to the forest,” I heard Andrew say, “to learn the island, and to train for The Hunt.” Samuel bowed to me, then beckoned his grandson, Jamie, forward. “Masters, I would ask that Jamie be allowed to join you in the forest. You can learn much from each other. Would you accept him?” We huddled briefly. “He’s only a kid,” Davey said. “What would we need him for?” “He probably does know the island better than any of us,” Mike said. “Besides, he will be known to the locals. I say take him.” “I see four of us in the forest, so I think he should come with us,” I said. “Okay, everyone?” “Yeah, if you two say so, but don’t expect me to look after him,” Davey said. “Jamie, we welcome you to join our group,” I said. Shyly, Jamie left his grandfather’s side. When he moved to stand with us, at first he stood a little apart, but Mike reached out and pulled him into the group. “Go now, lads,” Andrew said. “Samuel and I still 145

RULES OF THE HUNT have much to discuss. Go with God.” We embraced Andrew. Jamie hugged his grandfather. We picked up our packs and moved down to the ground floor where I gave each a crossbow and we ventured out into the night. “We’ll go to the rock for the rest of the night,” Mike said. “Let’s move. Jamie, you follow Davey. Do exactly what he does.” On the rock again for the first time since we entered town months ago, it seemed familiar ground. “It doesn’t seem right without Keith,” Davey said. “Bed down. It’s the middle of the night. We’ll talk in the morning,” Mike said. “Boy, it’s still cold at night out here. Have you ever slept out before, Jamie? How do you keep warm?” “Sometimes I’ve slept out with the sheep, master,” Jamie started. Davey laughed. “Master Mike. That’ll be the day.” “Don’t call us master, Jamie,” Mike said, “our names are fine.” “When it was really cold out you could get right in among the sheep. It was always warm there,” Jamie said, eyeing Davey, “Even Master Davey of the Demon Skin, Michael?” Davey said, “No. You call me master, boy.” Mike jumped him, and pinned Davey’s arms while I tickled him. Despite all his struggles, Davey could not shake Mike and me off, and was soon reduced to a helpless, giggling mass. “Give up, Davey?” Mike said, and at Davey’s assent, “Right, Jamie? He’s Davey.” Jamie bit his lip and looked at Mike. 146

HUGH McCRACKEN “You have two names, and he has three.” Jamie pointed at me. “Which one is proper for me to use?” Mike scratched his head and I laughed. “Michael is his given name, Mike is a nickname — a name friends call him. Peter is my given name. Friends call me Pete.” Jamie looked from me to Mike. He tugged his right ear. “Is Michael not your friend, Peter? He calls you Prof. What does it mean?” I glared at Mike. “It means he’s an idiot.” Mike shrugged and grinned. “Oh, okay. Anything to keep the peace. I’ll stop calling you Prof, Prof … I mean, Pete. We’re all friends, right?” When Davey and I lay wrapped in our cloaks that doubled as blankets Davey whispered, “I think the kid’s scared of us, of me especially.” “Don’t go putting on any airs,” I said, “Try to make him feel one of us. It’s important.” “Yeah, okay, I suppose.” Shortly after, Davey snored quietly. From Mike and Jamie’s blanket came Mike’s voice, “Jamie’s out cold. I hope this works out all right, having him along. Well, good night, you two.”

147

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

After the months of sleeping under cover, it felt odd to wake again in the open. In town, our sleeping quarters hadn’t been heated. The windows had been holes in the wall, closed with wooden shutters at night. Sometimes, on very cold nights, we’d hung blankets over the shutters. But at least being under cover, the dawn dew hadn’t wet everything. In the open again, I wakened cold. My head, particularly my nose, felt numb and I wriggled closer to Davey who muttered something I couldn’t catch. I lay in the false dawn as still as I could. I wasn’t sure I wanted the dawn and the forest life again. “You awake, Prof … I mean, Pete?” Mike said, “Let’s talk.” I gently disentangled myself from Davey, and Mike and I squatted side by side at the edge of the rock. Both younger boys still slept. “What’s happened, Pete?” Mike said, “You’ve changed. You’re older seeming, like your own older brother, somehow.” “I was scared witless when Simmons touched me when we were doing the repairs. When we went into the dungeon for the rescue, I’d seen the whole thing: Keith on the rack, Andrew shackled to the wall, but I’d 148

HUGH McCRACKEN seen it through Andrew’s eyes. I’d watched Keith being tortured, but I didn’t know about Simmons. I didn’t see him die in the dreams. Somehow, I knew we’d be four out here, but that Keith wouldn’t be with us. I’m scared, Mike. Am I imagining things, or am I really seeing what’s going to happen? In the church, when the Duke was there, I could see Keith and the Abbot from where he stood; I could feel, in my stomach, his anger.” We sat for a short time, before Mike shrugged and said, “I don’t know. From what you’ve said I think you only dreamt about Keith when he was lying right there with you. In the bit about the Duke you were pretty worked up and standing close to him. Out here, we’re on our own. Let’s cheer up. Don’t dream any spooky stuff about Davey or me. Okay?” I laughed. “I’ll try not to. Come on, let’s get these two up.” While Davey and Jamie collected small dry firewood, Mike and I shook the blanket-cloaks free of the dawn dew and spread them over the bushes to dry. Jamie offered to make some thin porridge or gruel from the meal we had with us. “By my reckoning,” Mike said, “this must be about March. That means we have about four or five months before The Hunt. By The Hunt, we want to be able to move through the forest like the forest animals, silent and unseen, except when we want to be heard or seen.” “How about dogs?” Davey said. “How do we avoid leaving trails for them?” “We can mask our scent with sheep fat or sheep oil,” Jamie said. “Most dogs, even the Duke’s, are 149

RULES OF THE HUNT trained not to chase or track sheep. If grandpa could get us some, we could use wildcat scent glands too. The dogs here know better than chase a wildcat.” “Good, Jamie,” Mike said, “that’s something I’d never have thought of. We have to learn to shoot the crossbows, and to load and reload them quickly. There’ll be plenty of time to jaw later. Let’s stick to practical things now.” “Who elected you God?” Davey said. “You’re very bossy all of a sudden.” Mike flushed and clenched his fists. I glanced from one to the other and quickly said, “Stow it. Remember what Andrew said: Mike was to lead in the forest and we were to learn from him.” “Time’s a-wasting,” Mike said. “Clear up, no traces. Let’s move out.” For the next few days, Mike kept us moving constantly. We didn’t sleep twice in the same spot. During the day we practised with the crossbows and played a kind of hide and seek. In a short time we were pretty good with the bow, but Davey wouldn’t take the hide and seek seriously. In game after game Mike easily picked up Davey’s trail. “What do we do with him?” Mike said one day. “It’s like a trail left by an elephant. Anyone could follow it.” We caught up in no time with Davey and Jamie, and Davey stuck out his tongue. “Okay, so we’re caught. I’ve had enough of this game. Jamie and I are going hunting.” Mike grabbed Davey, threw him to the ground, and jumped on him. 150

HUGH McCRACKEN “No, Mike. Not like this. Not a fight,” I said. “Here use this.” I handed Mike a length of thin springy branch. “Davey, we’ve tried everything else to persuade you to take this seriously. If the Duke’s men catch you, all of us could end up dead after a spell in the dungeons. You can either hold still yourself while Mike and I give you four each for being caught so easily, or I’ll hold you while Mike gives you twelve.” Davey stared wide-eyed at us. “You don’t mean it,” he said, but at our grim-faced silence sighed. “You do, don’t you?” “Jamie too,” I said. “You’re a team.” “Oh, that’s not fair,” Davey said. “It’s not Jamie’s fault. It was me.” “Okay,” I said. “Three each from each of us instead of four because you defended Jamie, but remember the Duke and his men aren’t going to worry whose fault it was before you, or Jamie, or one of us goes on the rack. Well?” “Let me up,” Davey sighed. Davey bent over, gripped his ankles, scowled, then nodded at me. Later Jamie and Davey stood rubbing their rumps. “You two can go hunting now,” Mike said. “We hideand-seek again this afternoon before supper.” The two youngsters returned with their catch of rabbits by mid-afternoon. A little to my surprise Davey agreed without any argument to another hide-and-seek session. Again, Mike and I waited some time before following them. It took longer this time to pick up their 151

RULES OF THE HUNT trail, but once found even I could follow it easily. “What do we do? I swear he’s only doing it to annoy me,” Mike said. “I can’t go on beating him.” Shortly afterwards, we were sure we were almost on the two boys. Davey popped out of nowhere and stuck his tongue out. “That’s it, you’re for it now,” I snapped, but when I made to grab at Davey, something caught my ankles. Before I could do anything, I was on my face. Someone sat on me and my hands were tied behind my back. “Help, Mike,” I shouted, but Mike was in no shape to help. He too was on his face. As I watched, Jamie expertly looped some cord round Mike’s wrists and pulled tight. “You fell right into it,” Davey gloated. “So anxious to catch us, you walked right into our trap. We set it up earlier while we were hunting. Jamie’s real good with rope. Your wrists are tied the way he ties the sheep.” Davey prodded Mike with his toe. “Three from each of us, if you stand for it. Or six each tied.” “No way.” Mike said. “I’ll kill you.” “Fair’s fair,” I said. “Davey, are you ready to learn properly and do as Mike tells you?” “Yes, Pete.” Davey grinned. “After. Who’s first?” Sitting round our small fire after eating Mike was still a little stiff and on his dignity. Jamie seemed very wary of him and more than a little frightened of what Mike might do. “Sorry,” Davey said. “Not about whacking you, that was fun, but about earlier. I suppose Pete was right.” Mike stuck out his hand, but when Davey took it, 152

HUGH McCRACKEN Mike pulled him down and pinned him. When Davey called for help, Jamie chewed his lower lip and clasped one hand in the other, but I grinned and nodded at him. Jamie, hesitantly at first, climbed on Mike’s back. Soon all three rolled round the ground laughing while I sat back and watched. Huddled against the cold in our blanket at night, Davey said, “What’s up with you? You were like a judge earlier today. You didn’t even join in the free-forall tonight. I’m sorry about the last few days. Mike really was being very bossy and stuffy.” Davey giggled. “You should have seen his face, and yours, when Jamie and I whacked you.” I laughed. “You should have seen yours earlier.” “I suppose so,” Davey said. “Jamie was scared out of his wits at the thought of catching and tying you two. He only agreed when I threatened to brain him if he didn’t. He really didn’t whack you two hard, did he? He was too scared.” “You made up for him. Didn’t you?” I said, and punched him under the blanket. Davey wriggled and laughed. “Yes, I did, didn’t I? Mind you, not as hard as you and Mike hit me. Boy, was Mike mad. Jamie’ll be okay, he’s a good kid. Are you still mad at me? Honest, it’ll be all right. Today cleared the air. Please be back the way we were.” I sighed. How could I explain to Davey? The dreams had really upset me, so had my feeling about the Duke in the church. I wasn’t sure by then whether I actually saw the event through the Duke’s eyes and felt his anger in the church at the time, or later in a dream. I was so 153

RULES OF THE HUNT tired and worried then. Either way, I really felt myself inside the Duke and tasted his anger. The whole ordeal with Keith had really thrown me. After the incident at the bay beach, I’d tried to keep my distance until he came to me while Davey was away. Even then, I hadn’t exactly fallen over trying to be friendly. Knowing, from the dreams, what would happen to Keith, seeing it and tending him afterwards, hurt me. I felt somehow it was partly my fault. “Aren’t you even going to speak to me?” Davey said. “Honest, I’ll behave. Most of the time anyway.” “Sorry,” I said. “I was thinking about Keith.” I began to cry. “Should I get Mike?” Davey said, his own voice cracking on the edge of tears. “No,” I sobbed. “Lie still, and shut up.” Very hesitantly, Davey put an arm round me where we lay, until my sobs finally subsided. “Is it my fault?” Davey said, finally. “No, Davey. Sorry I snapped. I’m okay now. It’s nothing you’ve done.” I told Davey about my dreams. “Wow, when did Keith become a saint?” Davey said. “I can’t imagine him a monk. He used to tell me real dirty stories when we were on our own. You should have heard what he said about you after the night on the beach. You remember when he almost drowned and you two were all bundled up to get warm.” Davey giggled. “He said your thing was all stiff.” I laughed. I felt much better now. “Get to sleep.”

154

HUGH McCRACKEN The now familiar brown-habited figure raised a hand; greeting or blessing? “Davey’s bin tellin’ tales out of school, has he? Well, so what. When Ah was child, Ah did childish things. Dinnae worry, Pete. There’s naethin’ wrang with ye. Ye sometimes see things ither people dinnae, know for sure things ither people can scarcely guess at. Ye’re a communicator. Let it happen. Use it when ye can, ignore it when ye cannae. Dinnae worry about me. Ah’m fine. Ah’m fulfilled. Enjoy yer friends.” Keith shifted his weight and winced, before he grinned and raised his staff. “Dominus vobiscum, go with God.”

I woke with a start to bright moonlight. The other two, I could barely make out under their blankets a short distance away. Davey muttered in his sleep. Like a puppy, he wriggled towards the warmth when I backed off a little. It was cold out. I snuggled down under the blanket. For the first time since Andrew had been taken, I felt relaxed and at peace. It would work out all right in the end, no matter what happens, I thought, and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. I wakened to laughter and saw my three friends seated round a small fire laughing and joking while Jamie made gruel. “Well, well. He’s awake at last,” Davey said. “You slept right through sunup and Mike wouldn’t let us waken you. Jamie was going to tickle you with a feather he found, but I warned him you were a real 155

RULES OF THE HUNT grouch in the morning and would likely turn him into a frog.” Jamie turned scarlet. “No, Pete. I was not going to tickle you. I would not dare. Davey is making it up.” I grunted. On my way back from a trip behind some bushes, I grabbed Jamie and pinned him flat on his back. “What kind of frog would you like to be?” I said, leering down at him. Jamie squeaked and wriggled, eyes wide, unable to shake me off. Davey with a whoop jumped on my back and the three of us tussled. Mike watched the gruel. From time to time, he swiped at the nearest backside with a length of branch. Temporarily exhausted, we sat round the fire, grinned at each other, and dipped gruel from the pot with pieces of bannock. “Welcome back,” Mike said. “Do you, we, often do that?” Jamie said, breathless. “Don’t you have any brothers, Jamie, or friends of your own age?” Davey said. “No. I’ve lived with Grandfather Samuel and Grandmother Martha ever since Ma and Pa died of some plague years ago. I don’t often see anyone my own age. You really scared me, Pete. At first, I thought you were really going to turn me into a frog, then I thought you were going to beat me. Grandfather said to be polite and treat you like grownups, but you’re really only boys, aren’t you?” “Except me. I’m Master Davey of the Demon Skin,” Davey said, prancing around. “A most potent wizard.” “Does the Master of the Demon Skin remember the last time he boasted?” Mike said. 156

HUGH McCRACKEN “Let’s go, Jamie. Run,” Davey shouted. “Don’t let them catch us. Let’s show them how well we can hide.” Both boys laughed and ran. “Everything seems better today,” Mike said, “Are you feeling better?” “Yeah. Much. Tomorrow, I’d like us to head South towards the monastery. I’d like to see Keith. Okay?” “I think so. Let’s go hunt for those two brats.” This time Davey and Jamie had covered their tracks well. Mike and I couldn’t find them and by midafternoon returned to the camp. Davey and Jamie were there before us. Davey stood with a grin plastered all over his face and Jamie smiled. “Well done,” Mike said. “Pete wants to head South towards the monastery. I think we’re ready to try a little closer to civilisation. Whose turn was it to get rabbit today?” “While you were out blundering through the forest, scaring off all the game for miles around, we caught supper,” Davey said. “Are you two going to clean and cook?”

157

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

We set off early next morning in high spirits. Shortly after we started, we heard a series of squeals. “What was that?” Davey said. “Pig, I think,” Jamie said. “Piglets.” “Roast pork. I haven’t had roast pork for ages. I’m drooling already. Think we could catch one?” Davey said. Without consulting Mike or me, Davey and Jamie went off on a side trip to look for the piglets. The first thing we knew of the expedition was when the two youngsters ran up to us, Davey with a squealing piglet tucked under one arm. He laughed and giggled. “Roast pork tonight. Roast pork.” At that, there was a thunderous noise and a series of loud grunts. “The sow!” Mike said. We scattered and jumped for trees. “Can pigs climb?” Davey shouted. He scrambled furiously, attempting to climb onehanded and not let go of his prize. The piglet wriggled clear of Davey’s grasp and fell to the ground. It ran off, its squeal at an ear-splitting pitch, almost immediately replaced by ferocious deep-throated grunts. Davey climbed as fast as he could, and the sow charged his tree again and again. 158

HUGH McCRACKEN Every time one of us moved, the sow charged the offending tree. Tired at last, the sow grumbled under her breath. She turned to go, but made one last charge at Davey’s tree that almost shook him loose. We waited, glued to our trees for some time, until we were certain she had gone, then climbed stiffly down. “Remember the Battle of the Smithy?” Mike said. “The last time Davey had some friends drop round unexpectedly?” Mike and I stalked Davey, who backed off slowly. He darted behind Jamie to grip both his elbows, to hold him between us as they retreated and we advanced. When Mike pounced, Davey stepped back quickly. He tripped over a root, and fell back with Jamie on top of him. Winded, he lay still. “Don’t hurt him,” Jamie shouted. He kicked and clawed at Mike. “Whoa, Jamie, whoa,” I said, throwing my arms round Jamie. “It’s only fun like last night. We won’t hurt Davey.” “Much,” Mike said. He leaned forward with a grin to tweak Davey’s nose. “Cut it out, Mike,” I said. “Jamie thinks it’s for real. He’s frightened. Back off.” Mike climbed to his feet and pulled Davey up. Cautiously, I released Jamie. “Okay?” I said. “What does ‘okay’ mean?” Jamie said. “All right, Jamie?” Davey brushed himself down. With a cheeky grin at Mike, he said, “I didn’t ask, ’cos I knew you’d say, no.” We picked up our scattered belongings. Before we 159

RULES OF THE HUNT set out again, I saw Davey slap Jamie’s back. “Great, thanks. Boy, that was fun.” Over supper in the evening, Jamie said, “Next time, one of us should take a piglet and run one way while someone else catches and kills a second when the sow chases after the first one. As soon as the piglet we want is dead, let go of the first.” “Who runs with the first piglet?” Davey said. “Whoever can run fastest holding a small pig,” Jamie said, and nodded solemnly. “He should be able to climb fast too.” “That’s a really good idea, Jamie. We should try it,” Mike said, “but perhaps we should stake Davey out for the sow to play with while we take the piglets. A joke, Jamie, a joke. We should be at the monastery tomorrow, so we’ll try for a pig after we leave there.” In the dark at night under our blanket, Davey said, “Jamie’s okay. Keith will like him. He’s still a bit shy. He’s not sure when we’re making fun and when we’re serious, but we get on fine.”

160

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“It’s tiny.” Davey sounded disappointed when we broke out of the dense forest onto the beach. To our left, on a small promontory, stood the monastery. “Yes. It’s not big,” Mike said. “It’s bigger now than the ruins in our time. We’ll go up the beach and circle round in a recce before we go in. Okay, Pete?” We had circled the seaward side of the monastery and were approaching from the North when we saw two monks carry a stretcher out. The figure on the litter was not lying flat, but was half sitting, propped up by something under his upper body. A third man joined the two monks carrying the litter and they all set off for the beach. “That’s Keith,” I said. “I’m sure it’s Keith. Let’s go after them.” We followed, but kept some distance behind. The litter party vanished from view when it reached the beach. At a signal from Mike, we dropped to the ground. The two monks reappeared without their burden and walked back the way they had come. Mike waited till the monks were out of sight before he called for us to join him. “They can’t have gone far,” Mike said. “We weren’t much more than quarter of a mile behind them. Why would they take Keith out of the monastery? Who was 161

RULES OF THE HUNT the other man?” “Let’s spread out to check the beach,” Davey said. “We used to come here to picnic. There are all sorts of little coves and sheltered bits either in the dunes or among the rocks farther out.” We heard a shout or scream suddenly cut off and followed by a short silence then another scream. “That’s Keith,” I said. “Come on. This way.” We ran in the direction of the screams, but were disciplined enough to stop when Mike signalled us to drop before we topped the rise at the beach. Mike inched forward on knees and elbows to peer over. “Oh. Not yet, Bernard, please not yet,” came Keith’s voice. “Aow. That hurts, Bernard, that hurts.” We could hear him sob. Mike scrambled back to us. “It’s One Ear. He’s got Keith on his face, and he’s doing something to his legs.” “I’ll kill him,” I said, too angry to cry. “What are we waiting for? There’s only him, isn’t there? We can rush him. Why does the Abbot allow it? I thought he was a friend.” “Hold it. Sure, there’s only him, but he’s a trained soldier and a full-grown man. Davey, you and Jamie go down to our right, keep the dune between you and them, then creep along the beach. One Ear was facing this way, so he’ll have his back to you. Wait for my signal. We’ll shout and he should look up. Davey, you run in and crouch behind his legs. We’ll charge down the dune at him. Jamie, you get your ropes on his ankles and sheep-tie him. If you can get his hands too, all the better.” 162

HUGH McCRACKEN While Davey and Jamie crept off to the beach, Mike and I crawled up to peer over the top of the dune. Keith’s litter was on a ledge of rock about mid-thigh high on One Ear. Keith lay face down, his head turned towards us. One Ear stood beside him, one hand resting lightly on the small of his back. Like a jack-inthe-box, Davey’s head popped up briefly above a rock behind One Ear. “No, Bernard, not yet. Not again, not yet,” Keith said. My knife gripped in a white knuckled hand, I shook off Mike’s restraining hand. “Bug off. It’s all my fault. I knew what was going to happen. I should have hidden Keith. I’m going to kill One Ear. No one’s going to hurt Keith ever again. Let’s go.” As we stood, Mike shouted, “Now!” and we charged down the dune across the narrow stretch of beach. One Ear raised his head, startled, then stepped back only to fall over Davey crouched behind him. He fell heavily and the four of us pounced. Jamie managed to get his ropes on One Ear’s ankles and sat on his legs. When One Ear tried to raise his legs and kick Jamie off, Davey jumped. He landed, knees together, right on One Ear’s stomach. At the same time, Mike clubbed the side of the man’s head with a fist-sized rock. One Ear fell back. I jumped astride him, my knife pressed to his throat. “Stop it. Dinnae, oh for God’s sake, dinnae,” Keith shouted. “He’s a friend. Stop, ye daft buggers.” At Keith’s shout, I drew back my hand. A tiny scarlet bead of blood appeared on One Ear’s throat. “Are you all right?” I said to Keith. 163

RULES OF THE HUNT “Aye. Help me turn over. Oh no! Stop! Leave me. Let Bernard gae, please. He’ll turn me.” “Wasn’t he torturing you?” I said. “No, he wisnae, though it’s like torture. The apothecary says if Ah dinnae keep ma knees movin’, Ah willnae ever walk right again. He showed Bernard how tae dae it and how tae massage ma muscles. That’s whit he was doin’. It hurts, but Ah want tae be able to walk right. Ah cannae help shoutin’, and sometimes swearin’ at him, when he does it. It disturbs the whole monastery. When it’s dry, Ah hae them carry me oot here. Is Bernard all right? Ye didnae hurt him did ye?” I glanced at the unconscious ex-man-at-arms. “No, I don’t think so.” “He’s not dead anyway,” said Davey. Jamie knelt and untied One Ear, who promptly curled up into a tight ball. “Oh, my God, what happened? All the demons of hell attacked me.” Bernard groaned. “Lord! Master Keith, are you all right? The Abbot will skin me alive.” Bernard struggled to his knees and recoiled when he saw Davey. “God preserve us,” Bernard said and crossed himself. “Help him up,” Keith said. Mike and I helped One Ear to his feet and steadied him when he staggered. “Bernard, ma friend, are ye aw right?” Keith said. Bernard stood between Mike and me like a shaggy bear. He put a hand to his face where Mike had hit him with the rock, and peered at the blood on his hand. He reached into his mouth and pulled out a tooth. “I’ll live, 164

HUGH McCRACKEN Master Keith. I think.” “Bernard, these are ma brithers: Mike, Pete, Davey, an’ a friend, Jamie. Davey is the one we talked about. That’s him wi’ the red hair.” “Masters,” Bernard gave a sketchy bow. “I think we met already a few minutes ago. Tell me, are there any more of you? If so, I’m not sure I want to meet them.” Bernard grimaced. “Bernard, we’re really sorry. We did think you were torturing Keith,” I said. “You were lucky,” Davey said. “Pete was going to cut your throat. Keith stopped him just in time.” “Who jumped on me?” Bernard said. Davey flushed red to match his hair. “You’re a fine pair. You’re not a safe family to be around. Mind you, I suppose I only lost an ear, Simmons lost his head.” Keith moved and groaned. Bernard was immediately by his side and deftly turned him onto his back. “Master Keith, since your brothers are here to help, you should try to stand a little,” Bernard said, “and I would feel safer if their hands were occupied.” With Mike on one side and Davey on the other Keith stood for a short time. I sat on a rock beside Bernard, and watched. “I was the one who took Keith to the castle, so I would not have blamed you if you had cut my throat,” Bernard said. “He is much better than even a few days ago, but bending his legs and rubbing them after, the way the apothecary says it must be done, is torture for both of us. It is for his physical good and my spiritual salvation, the Abbot says. But, oh I long to be able not 165

RULES OF THE HUNT to do it.” Bernard snorted. “I have killed men in battle without a thought. I have cut the throat of a mortally wounded friend to save him a long death agony, yet I tremble like a maid to exercise Master Keith’s legs. Enough, masters. Let me have him.” Bernard scooped Keith up gently and carried him back to the litter. Davey sat on the ledge and started to tell Keith of our adventures since leaving town. Shyly at first, but gaining in confidence as he talked, Jamie joined in. Soon they had had Keith laughing. Mike, Bernard, and I withdrew slightly leaving the boys on their own. While we spoke, the two monks appeared. “These are Master Keith’s brothers,” Bernard said. “They will return to the monastery with us.” Without comment, the monks picked up Keith’s litter and started back. “Can I see your ear, Bernard?” Davey said. “Yes. It is in plain view. I have but one.” “No. That’s not what I mean. The one Keith bit off.” “I know not where it is. Fed to the pigs or the dogs by the barber-surgeon, I suspect.” “No, Bernard. Don’t be stupid,” Davey started and I clipped his ear. “Don’t be rude,” I said. “No, masters. I was teasing Master Davey, nothing more. Here, Master Davey, see,” Bernard said. He knelt. Davey examined where the ear had been, and rubbed his own ear, red where I had hit it. “Wow. Look Jamie.” 166

HUGH McCRACKEN Bernard wrapped an arm round Davey’s upper thighs and stood up, lifting him easily. The ex-man-atarms tickled Davey who shrieked and wriggled. At Davey’s shout, Bernard let go, but caught him again to lower him gently to the ground. “The last time I heard such a war cry, I lost an ear.” Bernard laughed. With Davey and Jamie on either side of him, he hurried off after the litter. Mike and I grinned at each other. “I’m glad you didn’t cut his throat.” Mike said.

167

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

After greeting us, the Abbot took my arm and led me to stroll outside. I told him of Walter’s death and his burial. “Did I do the right thing, Father?” The Abbot walked in silence for some time and I began to fidget, afraid I had done something wrong. “You had no right to consecrate the ground or perform the burial, but you saw a duty. Certainly, you know more of the liturgy and read and write better than many ordained priests. Your judgement was better than the priest’s. I would not have counted Walter a suicide. Walter’s death is at Simmons’ door. We will say requiem masses for the repose of Walter’s soul. Keith has forgiven him, I know. He has said so.” When we came back in, Bernard and the other boys were not in the refectory, nor were they with Keith in the hospital. “Mike showed Bernard a new weapon, a crossbow. He and the boys hae gone tae the beach tae try it oot. They would hae carried me, but Ah was tired and wanted tae wait tae talk tae Pete.” “I will leave you boys to talk,” the Abbot said. “I have other business to tend.” Now we were alone, I stood silent, not quite sure what to say. 168

HUGH McCRACKEN “The Abbot says you are much better,” I started. Keith said, “Ah’m much better now.” We laughed, and I sat on the edge of Keith’s litter. “Ah’ll no be fit for The Hunt. Even wi’ Bernard and his exercises, Ah willnae be able to run in the forest.” “The monks can carry you to the grove. That way we can all be there at the right time and go back together.” “Naw. Ah’m no goin’ back. The Abbot and the apothecary are beginnin’ tae teach me. Ah hae a heid start. Ah can read and write already. Here, in this time, Ah can study and learn and be respected for it, and maybe even be of some use to somebody. Whit hae Ah tae gae back for? A drunken father and brithers who, when they think of me at a’, think me a sissy and only fit for them to beat up on. Ah’m better aff here now.” I sat, my head hanging. It wasn’t fair: any of it. We were only boys. “Pete, please. I didnae mean tae upset ye. Yersel, Mike, and Davey are the first real friends Ah’ve ever had. Ye were the first person Ah’ve ever let this close tae me without wonderin’ what ye wanted from me, or if ye were goin’ tae hit me next time.” Keith grabbed my hand and held on tight. “Ah’m right scared. Ah’m stayin’. Ah want tae, but Ah’m still afeared.” Neither of us heard voices raised in the corridor. I jumped when the door opened, and a voice said, “Well, isn’t this cosy.” I scrambled to my feet, my hand on the hilt of my knife. One man at the door crossed the room in two 169

RULES OF THE HUNT quick strides. He gripped my wrist. In one smooth movement he had my arm twisted up between my shoulder blades and the knife clattered to the floor. The Abbot burst into the hospital. “My Lord Duke. What is the meaning of this? Armed men in my monastery?” The Duke flicked a hand at my knife that now lay on the floor. “It seems mine are not the only armed men here.” “My Lord Duke. With all respect, this is but a boy and that a boy’s common knife. All boys and men carry such, even men of peace such as I. I repeat; what means this intrusion?” “Intrusion, My Lord Abbot? Intrusion? We were hunting in this area. We have come to seek shelter for the night. One of your gentle monks attempted to bar my way and aroused my curiosity. We entered this chamber and a youth draws a knife against me.” The Duke turned towards Keith’s litter. The Abbot placed himself between it and the Duke. “Oh, come, My Lord Abbot. I am not stupid. I shall respect your prohibition. The child will not be hurt. An excommunicated Duke might have some difficulty ruling, so I concede that set of the lists.” Keith stared unblinking at the Duke who scowled down at him. The Duke reached out a hand and pulled the Möbius loop out to lie on Keith’s chest. When the Duke turned to me and reached out to jerk the Möbius loop clear of my tunic, I tried to pull back, but stopped when my captor twisted my arm even farther. “I thought so. This is one of the boys from The Hunt, My Lord Abbot. They are not under your protection. Do 170

HUGH McCRACKEN you also have here a deserter, one Bernard, now known as One Ear?” “He is not in the monastery, My Lord Duke. Again, I must protest the presence of armed men in my house.” “Ho, guard,” the Duke called, and a man-at-arms entered. “Withdraw your men from the monastery. We will overnight here and return to the castle tomorrow. You and your men may sleep in the stable. Arrest anyone who enters or leaves the monastery except by my direct permission.” The Duke turned to the Abbot. “Does that satisfy your sense of propriety, My Lord Abbot? I trust my Captain and I are welcome, and that we may keep our swords and daggers?” “My Lord Duke. I will have my quarters prepared for you and the Captain. You are welcome, as a Christian, to share with us our simple supper and shelter here for the night.” “Thank you, My Lord Abbot. It will not be necessary to vacate your quarters. We will stay overnight in the hospital. Perhaps you might wish to remove the Holy Child. Might I have a fire or a brazier in this room?” “What do you intend for the boy, Sire?” the Abbot said. “I have not yet decided, but we will keep him close, never fear.” The Abbot left the hospital to return minutes later with two monks. “Take Keith to my quarters, brothers. I will arrange for the fire to be lit while you sup, Your Grace.” “We will sup here, My Lord Abbot. It will spare your monks the affront of witnessing our gluttony while they 171

RULES OF THE HUNT dine on their meagre fare. You will dine with us. The boy will serve.” Monks brought in a trestle table, the Abbot’s chair and, after a long delay, two more lesser chairs, while another monk busied himself lighting the fire. The Duke sat in the Abbot’s chair and motioned the Abbot and the Captain to sit on either side of him. “Have you any wine, My Lord Abbot?” “Only Communion wine, My Lord. We do have some ale. Rough for your palate, but we could have some mulled, if Your Lordship pleases.” I had been standing where I had been put by the Captain all this time. “You, boy,” the Duke said, “do your talents extend to mulling ale?” “Yes, My Lord Duke,” I said, “I know how to mull ale.” “Good. Then do so for us.” I heated the iron in the fire and added the spices to the three mugs of ale. When I presented the first mug to the Duke while the iron heated in the fire for the second mug, he smiled at me. “The sound of the hot iron in the ale is very like the sound of hot iron on flesh, boy. Without the screams, of course. Think on it.” The Abbot picked at his food and ate very little. “Really, My Lord Abbot, you should eat better,” The Duke said. “Your monks are not here to see, only the Captain and myself. This boy will tell no tales after tomorrow.” The three adults sat on one side of the table facing the fireplace. I served them from the opposite side as 172

HUGH McCRACKEN the dishes were brought in from the monastery kitchen. Towards the end of the meal, during which the Abbot had spoken only in answer to a direct question, the Captain whispered to the Duke who again stared long and hard at me. “My Lord Abbot, you are an observant man. You would make a good soldier were you not a priest. My Captain says the boy resembles me. You knew me as a young man. What say you?” The Abbot studied both of us. He cleared his throat. “Your Grace, he could be you as a young man, as a youth rather. The resemblance is quite startling. Your Grace is, of course, an adult and fashionably clothed and barbered. Peter is still a beardless youth in common dress. But to an observant man like your Captain, or one of my profession, used to the long view, the resemblance is remarkable.” “Boy, Peter, My Lord Abbot called you. Where were you born? What of your family?” I looked at the Abbot, and the Duke snapped, “You are mine now, boy. Answer me, not the Abbot.” “I was born on this island, Sire. My mother’s family has lived here as long as anyone in the family can remember. My father’s family is from the mainland, Offisland.” “My Lord Abbot, you may withdraw now.” The Abbot, with a bow to the Duke, left the room. “Well, Peter, we don’t have any toys with us, but simple things can cause a remarkable amount of pain. You will have the opportunity to compare tonight’s primitive offering with the pleasures of my chamber at the castle. It is well equipped.” 173

RULES OF THE HUNT The Duke smiled at me and I shivered. “We wish to know why you are here. Who sent you? What plans do they have for you? Were you chosen because of your resemblance to me? Are you a potential heir? Is there some plot to displace me? Is the plot local or are my fellow lords involved? How were you introduced at the time of The Hunt to make you seem like new players? Are you, in fact, new players? Many questions, Peter. I intend to have answers. The Captain is skilled at extracting answers from reluctant speakers. Not so skilled as the late Master Simmons, perhaps, but I doubt if you will appreciate the difference. “Remove your clothes.” I stood stock still. “You hesitate? I can have men in here at a snap of my fingers. They will not be gentle.” My mind went back to Colin’s death, and I stripped. “Many believe you to be warlocks. The manner of Simmons’s death, and the escape of Andrew of the Forest and the boy, Keith, could be witchcraft. It could equally well have been done with help from within. You have the answer to that also. Allowing yourself to be taken thus would suggest you are merely the mortal pawn of some schemer and failed to think to take precautions.” I stood, licking my lips, hands clasped tight behind my back out of the Duke’s sight. Somewhere, I had read that stripping a prisoner naked before interrogation made them more nervous and vulnerable — it worked. “You may clear the table now, boy. Set everything 174

HUGH McCRACKEN outside in the corridor. We have need of the table. Then mull some more ale.” The task of clearing the table and warming the thick, brown beer by plunging red-hot pokers into it completed, I again stood before the Duke. “Give me your amulet,” he said. I slipped the thong over my head, handed the Möbius loop to him, and trembled. “You must explain the significance of this symbol some time. Well, boy, do you wish to answer my questions or must I allow the Captain to demonstrate his skill? Come stand here before me while you consider.” He stared at me. “Very delicate by comparison with most local youths. For certain, some noble blood, and gently reared. Well, boy, what say you? Are we to have answers now or later?” “I cannot answer Your Grace’s questions,” I said. “I don’t know any more than Your Grace.” What the Captain did to my arm, I didn’t know. I heard myself scream and, when the movement was repeated, I fainted.

The brown-habited figure of a much older Keith appeared. “Ye hae the means within ye tae end this. The answer lies within ye.”

When I came round, I was lying on my back on the table. I tried to move and found my feet were tied and 175

RULES OF THE HUNT a rope passed over my chest, below my armpits, held me tight. I closed my eyes again. The self-hypnosis stuff Mom taught me when I was only a kid and terrified of the dentist? Was that what Keith meant? The doctor who’d set my arm when it was broken said how brave I was. But surely, with the Captain and the Duke, it wasn’t like the doctor or the dentist. They wouldn’t stop. And, though I might not feel the pain at the time, would I end up crippled like Keith? An acrid, smouldering feather was thrust under my nostrils. I coughed and spluttered. “He is awake, My Lord. Should I go on?” the Captain said. He grasped my right little finger and started bending it back. The pain was excruciating. I shouted. The grasp relaxed. The pain subsided. “Think, boy. God gave you ten fingers and ten toes,” the Duke’s voice said. “When one no longer pains you enough, we simply give that one a rest and move on to the next. The Captain is quite skilled at judging timing for maximum effect.” In a panic, I started the hypnosis routine my mother had taught me. I slipped into the first stage and Keith appeared somehow floating above me.

“Yer mind and the Duke’s mind brought ye here. Think it through,” Keith said.

I saw through the Duke’s eyes, a boy, tied face up on a 176

HUGH McCRACKEN table. In the church, I had felt his anger in my stomach. Why should he not feel my pain? The Duke nodded, and the Captain went back to work on my hand. With an oath, the Duke clasped at his right hand, and when the Captain bent the little finger further the Duke shouted, “Stop, for God’s sake, stop.” The Duke nursed his right little finger. He looked from it to my right hand. “He is controlling his breathing somehow, My Lord,” the Captain said, and brought his clenched fist down hard on my belly. For a moment, I felt the gutwrenching pain of the unexpected blow. Then the Duke doubled over clutching his midriff, gagging. “My Lord are you ill?” The Captain moved to stand beside his master, who gasped and slowly straightened. “Captain, try the boy’s other hand, but stop immediately I say so.” The Captain grinned down at me and began to bend back my left little finger. “Enough! Enough!” the Duke shouted. He nursed his left hand in his right. “Captain, give me the crucifix. No, place it on the boy’s chest. Now, try the finger again.” The Captain had barely touched my little finger before the order came to let it go. “How could a warlock so defy the cross?” the Duke said. “Unless he were not the evil one,” I said. The Captain’s stinging slap got to me even through my hypnosis and brought tears to my eyes, but it 177

RULES OF THE HUNT rocked the Duke back on his heels. “Captain, do not dare touch the boy again without my direct orders, if you value your life. Do I make myself clear?” “Yes, Sire. At your command.” “Cut the boy loose, Captain, and withdraw. Take all the swords and knives with you. I want nothing that could be a weapon to remain. Boy, you lie where you are.” The Captain followed his orders with a puzzled look on his face. At the door he stopped. “Should I remain on call here, Sire, in the corridor?” “No, join our guard. Post sentries. It is doubly important now that no one leave or enter.” The Duke turned to gaze at me, where I still lay on the table. “I have misjudged you. You are not the pawn of others: you are a key player.” The Duke reached out and took my hand as if to shake it, but squeezed hard. The little finger joint already painful, shot a jolt of pain to my consciousness, and the Duke reeled back. “May I rise, My Lord?” I said. At his nod, I pushed myself to a sitting position and swung my legs over the side of the table. On my feet again, I staggered, but when he put out a hand to steady me I recoiled at his touch. “No, I would not further hurt you,” the Duke said. “Mull some more ale — for both of us.” I sipped my mulled ale. “If you wish, I can answer some of your questions now, Sire.” “Why did you not do so earlier and save us both grief?” 178

HUGH McCRACKEN I shrugged. “We were not ready earlier, My Lord.” He kicked my shirt and tunic to me. “Sit. Here, on this bench, before the fire.” “No one sent me. I think all who have appeared at The Hunt are somehow connected with you or are with someone whose mind is tied to yours and they are drawn along. Each time you and they have met at The Hunt, as you and I will confront each other at the next Hunt. Till now, you have always triumphed.” The Duke sat and stared at me for a long time. Then, like someone waking from a daydream, shook himself. “You will return to the castle with me tomorrow. I may let the Captain play with you while I stay some distance off. Your spell may not work at a distance. We will sleep here tonight.” “My Lord Duke, may I join Keith for the night? Your men surround the monastery. If I could escape them, I could escape you, or kill you as Simmons was killed with equal cause. I will leave the monastery with you, I promise. I would not endanger the monastery, the Abbot, or Keith by acting against you within the monastery grounds.” “You do not recall what happened tonight acting against me?” “No, My Lord Duke. I did nothing. Consider who did what. Can we consider this a draw? It is what we call a standoff where I come from. May I join Keith, Sire?” “Yes, boy. Have a monk summon my Captain. He might as well share such comfort as is available here.”

179

RULES OF THE HUNT

180

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

When I walked into the Abbot’s room, he rushed over and crushed me in his arms. At my gasp at the pressure on my shoulder, the Abbot stepped back. “You are hurt, child. What has he done to you?” the Abbot said. “Nothing important, Father,” I said. “What of the others? How is Keith?” “Ow’r here, Ah’m fine,” Keith said. “The others were out of the monastery when his lordship arrived,” the Abbot said. “I sent word to them. But they have not been heard from since. Have you eaten?” The Abbot sent for bread and cheese. I wolfed it down, seated on the edge of Keith’s litter. “I am truly sorry I could not prevent this night’s events,” the Abbot said. “Father, I know you could not help me, any more than I could help Keith in town. I blamed myself for what happened to Keith, but now I accept there was nothing useful I could do.” I told the Abbot and Keith of the events in the hospital. “Boy, Ah wish Ah could’ve done that tae Simmons,” Keith said, when I described transferring my pain to the Duke. 181

RULES OF THE HUNT The Abbot pursed his lips, and tugged at his left earlobe. “I would not tell this too widely. To many it would smack of witchcraft.” “Have I done wrong, Father?” “No. I think you used the weapons God gave you to defend yourself. Remember, I have seen you serve mass. An evil warlock could not have dealt with the Host and the Holy Symbols as you have, but others may think differently. That is all.” “I don’t think the Duke will want many to know and, otherwise, who knows but family?” I spent the night on a straw pallet on the floor beside Keith’s litter in the Abbot’s quarters. Before dawn next morning, Keith and I attended the monastery mass and shortly after a guard came to find me and summon me to the hospital. “We leave for the castle when our mounts are saddled, boy. You will remain with us. Captain, tie his arms behind him,” the Duke said. The Captain pulled my hands behind my back and tied the wrists tightly. While he did this, the Captain whispered in my ear, “Our master must have been unwell last evening. I have never before known him to release someone as he did you. No matter. He has given you into my charge. He wants nothing more done till we reach the castle. There I will have a free hand. We shall see how well you resist there.” He grasped my wrists and jerked them up behind me, at the same time putting his knee in the small of my back to stop me bending forward. My shoulder was still painful from the night before and I cried out. The Duke glanced over at us with a frown. 182

HUGH McCRACKEN “Checking his bonds are well tightened, My Lord,” the Captain said aloud, then whispered in my ear, “yes, we will have many pleasurable days.” When we left, the Duke and the Captain were mounted, but the twelve-man escort was on foot. The Captain dropped a noose round my neck, drew it tight, and smiled at me. He handed the free end to one of the escort while he mounted. We left the monastery at a walking pace with me between the mounts of the Duke and the Captain, six guards before them and six following. In the forest proper, the trail narrowed and the escort moved into single file. The Duke was ahead of the Captain, and I walked behind the Captain’s horse. The forest grew in close to the trail, dark and forbidding. When we stopped, I could not see why, but I heard the Duke snap, “Clear the tree quickly, men. Captain, a tree has fallen across the trail; send four of the other guards forward to help clear the way.” The four men selected by the Captain squeezed their way past. At a tug on the halter round my neck, I moved alongside the horse. “Stay close, in my sight, within my reach,” the Captain said. As he spoke, a weighted net fell over the guards struggling with the fallen tree, and I heard a hissing sound ending with a dull thump. I looked up at the Captain, who stiffened, half standing in his stirrups, then fell forward, a finger-thick stick jutting out of his throat. The two rear guards started towards me, then stopped abruptly when Davey in his demon mask appeared beside me. Davey sliced the rope round my 183

RULES OF THE HUNT neck and pulled me back into the brush. “After him, you imbeciles,” the Duke shouted, but both guards fell and did not move, despite the Duke’s shouted orders. It happened so quickly that the Duke had barely drawn his sword and the guards at the fallen tree were still struggling with the net when it was over. I had gone. My booming voice filled the air. “Good bye, My Lord Duke. I promised only to leave the monastery with you. We have left the monastery. We shall meet again at The Hunt. One of us will die. Remember, we could kill you now, but choose not to do so.” The hissing noise came again. This time the flying stick struck the Duke’s upper left arm. “Till The Hunt, My Lord Duke. Till The Hunt.” And we fled into the forest. Mike finally allowed us to stop and rest. “Those weapons,” Bernard said, “crossbows you called them, are close to magic. In the deep wood, we could not have used a bow to such effect. How are you Master Pete? I had a horror you would be damaged like Master Keith.” “Are you okay?” Davey and Mike asked almost in chorus. Jamie, his face a mixture of worry and relief, simply patted me. “Yes, I’m fine. My shoulder hurts, and both little fingers, but I’m fine. The net was a great idea,” I said. “That was Jamie. He got the net and Bernard and Mike fixed it after we dropped the tree across the trail,” Davey said. “I thought of the speaker thing.” 184

HUGH McCRACKEN “It’s called a megaphone,” I said. “Oh, yeah, whatever. I made it out of starched linen,” Davey said. “We meant to use it to scare the men, but we didn’t need it. You sounded great shouting through it.” “Yes, it all worked out well. Thanks everyone,” I said. “The crossbows were great.” “I shall return to Master Keith, masters,” Bernard said. “This has been an interesting two days. If Master Keith and the Abbot permit, I shall join you or Andrew of the Forest for The Hunt. Go with God.”

185

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“Right, let’s go,” Mike said. “Are you all right to travel?” “Yeah. No problem,” I said. “How much trouble are we in now? The Captain and maybe the two guards are dead.” “No more bother than for having killed Simmons,” Davey said. “Bernard told us a lot of stuff.” “Let’s travel now. We can talk later,” Mike interrupted. Several hours later he let us stop, but wouldn’t allow a fire. “Bernard told us some things about The Hunt we didn’t know. His information explains some things we found odd. It’s not as simple as it seems. “We thought on the day of The Hunt the Duke and his men took off into the woods, as if they were going on a deer hunt or something. That’s not it at all. Deer poachers and the like are branded when they’re caught, then left free till The Hunt. If they’re caught again, the Duke either hangs one of the family, or one of the family is branded and has to join The Hunt too. For other offences against the lord’s laws the Duke either hangs them there and then or has them branded for The Hunt. Some who are known to have committed offences, but not been caught, like Bernard, volunteer for The Hunt. They call it, surrendering to the 186

HUGH McCRACKEN Judgement of The Hunt. “The day before The Hunt, all of those to be hunted gather in the town. There’s a big feast and they check the lists. If someone doesn’t turn up for The Hunt then everything he has is forfeit to the Duke. His family is taken to become bondservants. He becomes an outlaw. Anyone can kill him on sight without penalty. On the morning of The Hunt, they have a mass, then the quarry is let go, one at a time. None of those hunted is allowed to take any weapons with them. At high noon, the Duke and the hunters set out. The Hunt lasts till noon next day. Anyone who survives uncaught is free and pardoned. Those caught are either killed during capture, or put to death before the end of The Hunt.” “So we can’t hide out somewhere. We’ve got to go to town for the start of The Hunt,” I said. “We’ll need to think about our crossbows and other weapons.” “No one thought to tell us the rules properly,” Davey said. “They thought everyone knew. Because we were the first new players to live through a Hunt, no one knew what to do about us. They didn’t know how we fitted the rules or the rules fitted us. “Remember the Captain at Andrew’s, the one who branded Andrew and flogged us? He knew all the time we weren’t Andrew’s sons, but he was scared of us and pretended not to know. I suppose he thought we’d rather be flogged than branded. Bernard says the Captain died of a flux, whatever that is, and people think we did it. The garrison was betting on whether he would be flogged or branded himself for not branding us for The Hunt when he had the chance.” 187

RULES OF THE HUNT “When Simmons came back,” Mike said, “he heard about the boys at Andrew’s somehow and went to take Andrew. He broke the Rules of The Hunt by taking Andrew. No one knows if he broke the rules by taking Keith, because no one knows what rules apply to us. That’s what the Duke was so mad about when he came back. Simmons had screwed up the whole thing: a branded man and his family are supposed to be safe from interference until The Hunt.” “If those really are the rules, why did Andrew have to hide after the escape?” Davey said. “As a branded man, shouldn’t he have been safe till The Hunt?” “That’s what I’m trying to explain, Davey,” Mike said. “Simmons really screwed everything up. Except us, everybody thought they knew the rules. Simmons was stupid enough or big headed enough to act without asking the Duke, and got himself killed. What he did threw everybody for a loop. Now nobody knows what the rules are for Andrew and us. The Abbot put Andrew’s family under his protection in case the Duke declares Andrew an outlaw. The Duke was mad at that too. Bernard says it showed everyone the Abbot thinks the Duke can’t be trusted to play by the rules. You looking like the Duke is another complication. We’ll lie low, for a while anyway.” Next morning I sat very quiet and thoughtful. Mike glanced at me. “Are you all right?” “What? Oh, yes,” I said. “I was thinking about what Bernard said. Andrew and the others don’t want a revolution. What’s been happening must be pushing the Duke into feeling a rebellion is on the way. Someone’s going to get hurt or killed needlessly. In his 188

HUGH McCRACKEN own way, the Duke plays by the rules as he sees them. The dice is loaded in his favour, that’s true, but within that, he plays by the rules. He is evil, but I don’t know he is much different from other lords of this time. Andrew, Robert, and Thomas have said as much. Jack has his own axe to grind. It’s Simmons and us who have screwed up the whole thing. Us by being outside the rules, and Simmons by breaking them.” “So what can we do about that?” Mike said. “We can put us back in the rules, separate from Andrew?” “No, we can’t,” Davey said. “I’m on Andrew’s side.” “Andrew doesn’t want to seize power. By separating us from Andrew and the others in the Duke’s mind, we help what Andrew really wants to do, and take the heat off him and his friends.” “All right,” Mike said, “but how do we do it?” “I have an idea, but I’d need parchment, pen, and ink. It probably isn’t safe to go back to the monastery right now, and I don’t know where else we could get any.” “Grandfather Samuel will have some,” Jamie said. “Why would he have them?” Davey said. “He’s only a shepherd.” Jamie flushed. “Grandfather is the High Priest of the Old Ones. He can read and write. He’s teaching me. I know my letters. Can you all read and write?” “Yeah,” I said. “Would your grandpa give me some parchment and ink?” “Oh yes, I’m sure he would.”

189

RULES OF THE HUNT Short of Samuel’s hut, we went to ground off the trail and Jamie was sent forward on his own to meet his grandparents. Jamie came back shortly. “Grandfather says you are welcome, and grandmother has a stew on.” “Great. Lamb stew,” Davey said, smacking his lips. “No, rabbit or hare, I think.” “Never mind, we don’t have to make it. Let’s go.” Samuel met us outside the hut. “Welcome, my masters. I trust my grandson has given satisfaction.” Davey scowled and said, “No, Samuel, he has been most disobedient and unsatisfactory. We are here to return him, or would you prefer that Peter turn him into a frog?” Jamie’s jaw dropped and Samuel flushed red then white. When Jamie jumped on Davey and they wrestled, Samuel wrung his hands. He took a half step forward, then stopped. “Jamie, desist at once. Oh, my masters, a thousand apologies. Be not too hard on the child in his ignorance.” Mike hauled Jamie off, and I pulled Davey to his feet, and shook him. “Samuel, don’t be alarmed,” I said. “Jamie has been fine with us and may stay with us as long as he and you wish him to. With Jamie, we are boys, and like all boys, tease and play.” I shook Davey again. “Some of us are more childish than others at times.” Samuel still watched Davey very warily, but relaxed when Davey and Jamie ran off to the sheep pen and we heard their laughter. Mike and I recounted to Samuel the events since we left town, and Samuel confirmed Bernard’s account 190

HUGH McCRACKEN of the Rules of The Hunt. “May I have parchment and pen and ink, Samuel?” I said, “Jamie said you had some.” After supper, Martha cleared the end of the table for me. While the others sat round the fire and talked, I worked in the flickering light of the fire and a tallow candle.

191

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

LORD OF THIS ISLAND & MOST PUISSANT DUKE GREETINGS: We came not to this island, at the time of The Hunt, of our own free will, but by the power of Your Grace’s mind and that of another. We came unaware of the rules governing The Hunt, but have now become aware of those rules. We humbly petition Your Grace that we be recognised as within the Rules of The Hunt, as we recognise Your Grace, Duke and Lord of this Island. Our status after The Hunt was unclear. In the absence of directions from Your Grace, your loyal people were uncertain and fearful. Some sheltered and aided us out of Christian compassion for children without adults. Their actions would have been quite proper had we been recognised as within the Rules of The Hunt, and surely contravened no law promulgated by Your Grace.

192

HUGH McCRACKEN We petition that those who aided and sheltered us suffer not Your Grace’s displeasure and be not disciplined for their act of charity. Andrew of the Forest accepted us into his home and family. He is our father in this time. He accepted the branding and the sentence to The Hunt awarded by the castle Captain as Your Grace’s temporal right as Lord of this Island. He was living peacefully, under the Rules of The Hunt, when he was wrongfully taken by Master Simmons in breach of Your Grace’s Rules of The Hunt and without Your Grace’s knowledge or consent. We petition that Andrew of the Forest be permitted to return to home and family, to live there without let or hindrance, as allowed under the Rules of The Hunt. There is no intended or apprehended insurrection on the part of Your Grace’s loyal people, we, the new players, released Andrew of the Forest from his wrongful imprisonment when we released our brother Keith. Keith, now of the Monastery, who had been seized and tortured, wrongfully, by Master Simmons, without Your Grace’s knowledge or consent. Master Simmons has paid with his life for his errors and excesses, and continues to pay in the life beyond. Being uncertain of Your Grace’s intentions towards Peter, we, the new players, released him, and punished the Captain for his presumption in going well beyond Your Grace’s instructions in his treatment of Peter. These unfortunate misunderstandings arose from the uncertainty of our place with the Rules of The Hunt.

193

RULES OF THE HUNT Grant these petitions, Your Grace, and we, with the exception of Keith of the Monastery, unlawfully injured by the late Master Simmons, will appear at The Hunt in accordance with your traditional rules. We owe allegiance to another, but will in this time, on this island, reciprocate observance of the traditional Rules of The Hunt, for the peace and serenity of all, until The Hunt. Should Your Grace die in The Hunt, we, by this present, recognise the right of succession of your son as by law established. God will decide the outcome of The Hunt. We must leave something to God. Nisa Dominus Frusta.

Given this day under our hand, Michael, Davey, Colin, Keith, Peter of

Möbius

194

HUGH McCRACKEN

195

CHAPTER THIRTY

“There, that should do it,” I said and cracked my knuckles. “Samuel, would you read this please? What do you think?” Samuel read slowly through the document, brow furrowed, lips moving. “Well?” I said. Samuel thought for some time. “Should the Duke accept this, it returns us to the status quo before you arrived. It is acceptable to us, masters, and I imagine to Andrew, but how does it further your cause?” “As long as we can meet the Duke in The Hunt and stay together unharmed till then, our cause is served. Will the Duke accept, do you think?” “The Duke is a cruel, evil man and an unfit ruler but, by his lights, he follows his laws, if not ours. I suspect your challenge will appeal to his pride and sense of chivalry. Master Simmons and the previous Captain would both counsel caution and the taking of hostages, but they are dead. The Duke would not, in his mind, lower himself to that personally. I think he will accept.” “How do we get it to the Duke?” Mike said. “Walk it into the castle?” “No, masters,” Samuel said. “Can you make a second copy? I will carry both to the town. One, I shall deliver to the priest to take to the Duke. The other will 196

HUGH McCRACKEN be circulated. There are those in town who can read.” I made the second copy and the others signed both, Samuel wrote in both Colin’s and Keith’s names A sketch of Davey’s Möbius loop on both copies completed the work. Samuel left at dawn the next morning, and we camped in the forest. “What does ‘Nisa Dominus Frusta’ mean?” Davey said, at night. “It means ‘Unless God is with us, all is in vain’,” I said. “It’s something the priest at home used to say. It seemed to fit.” “If the Duke does accept,” Davey said. “Can we live in the open, where we like, until The Hunt? Could we live with Andrew? Or maybe with Keith at the monastery? I liked Bernard.” “We’ll see,” I said. “We must practice hard for The Hunt to live through it, either till we cross back to our own time or till the end of The Hunt, so we can live here freely. Let’s get some sleep.” “You two still jawing?” Mike’s voice said out of the dark. “Jamie’s out cold and snoring. He’s all knees, elbows, and bones. Well, good night you two.” “ ’Night, Mike,” we said in unison. Eager for news, three days later we waited within sight of the drove trail from after dawn. When Samuel finally appeared, he said, “I have good news. His lordship stood on the church steps and himself proclaimed amnesty to all who aided or sheltered you while your status was unclear. Andrew may return home till The Hunt. You are now declared within the Rules of The Hunt and are free, save the commission 197

RULES OF THE HUNT of future crimes. You may even return to town, if you wish to do so.” “Can we trust his word, Samuel?” I said. “He will not forswear a public oath sworn from the church steps. His honour is at stake.” “But you said he was evil, Samuel,” Davey said. “How can we trust him?” “It is possible to be evil, yet to be reliable, and even, I suppose, honourable in some ways. The Duke can be trusted, but watch and listen carefully for what he has not said.” I laughed. “Read the fine print.” Samuel peered at me and after a hesitation said, “Master Peter, you have changed somehow. You are older seeming, more of a man, less of a boy. Come, let us go, Martha must be worried.” We made good time back to Samuel’s hut. Martha insisted we stay to supper and sleep overnight in the hut to give us all time to talk. “The Duke expressed a wish you should meet with him before The Hunt,” Samuel said. “Did you actually talk to him?” Mike said. “Oh, no, Master Michael. Certainly not. I spoke through a go-between. His lordship’s interest is roused by your success since The Hunt, and, I think, he is really interested in who and what you are.” “Now that you need hide no longer, masters, what of Jamie?” Martha said. “Jamie should not be risked in The Hunt, Martha,” Mike said. “He could stay home now, if you wish.” At Jamie’s crestfallen expression I laughed. “Jamie can stay with us in the field, or in the town, until he and 198

HUGH McCRACKEN you decide otherwise. He has been a fine addition to our company.” “Oh, yes. Jamie should stay with us right up to The Hunt,” Davey said, and Jamie grinned. “Samuel, would you cut our hair?” I said. Samuel agreed and to my alarm produced a pair of sheep shears. I sat on the end of the bench while Samuel clipped. Martha had not watched, being busy chatting to Jamie and Davey. When Samuel finished, I stood and turned. Martha glanced at me then drew her breath in sharply. “My God. The Duke to the life.” Davey was next. With his hair trimmed to the same style as me, his likeness to me was very marked, despite his red hair. “Samuel, what do you think? Does my looking like the Duke work for us or against us?” I said. “I really know not what to think, but it is, of a surety, a remarkable resemblance.” “What do you think, Mike? Where do we go from here?” I said. “We should move back closer to town. We want to know every inch of the island within three to four hours of the town. That’s about the range in which we can expect to be hunted. We must find places to stash our weapons and to lay false trails and traps. If Samuel feels our truce with the Duke can hold, we should return to town now.” Excited, we talked far into the night, but were still up by dawn to walk to the town.

199

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

We hid our crossbows at the rock. When we reached the edge of the town, Mike said, “right. This is it. The point of no return. Let’s go.” Several people glanced curiously at us when we walked in, and then stared hard at Davey and me, but particularly at me. At the smithy, Robert dropped the piece he was working on and rushed over to us. He pounded Mike’s back then crushed Davey and me together in his arms. Jamie stood a little apart, but Davey wriggled out of Robert’s grasp and pulled Jamie over. “You remember Jamie?” Davey said. “Samuel’s grandson?” Robert nodded and ruffled Jamie’s hair. “I’m glad to see you all safe back. Jamie, you stay here with Michael. Peter, you and Davey are very welcome to stay here too, but I think Jack would like you with him.” “Robert, when we were here before, every time Jack began to relax, he would catch sight of me and become all tense again. I thought it was because I reminded him of Luke, but it wasn’t that, was it? When he looked at me, he saw his enemy, the Duke.” “Yes,” Robert said, “I’m afraid you’re right. And now, with your cropped hair, you are even more like the Duke when a young man. But Jack has been very 200

HUGH McCRACKEN worried about you and Davey.” Jack turned and smiled when Davey and I entered. “I had heard of the Duke’s statement and thought you might be back. You are most welcome. Davey, Mary has been expecting you ever since the Duke spoke and has made the little cakes you like.” Davey ran off to Mary. Jack and I studied each other in silence. “What has happened to you?” Jack said. “You seem older than the short time passed would justify.” “And even more like the Duke, I hear.” Jack’s face clouded. “The others have already scolded me extensively on that score. I am truly sorry I let your likeness to the Duke spoil things between us. I am over that, I think. Tell me of your adventures since you left.” I told Jack all we had done since leaving town. Jack was amused at some of it, but became white with anger when I told him what had happened in the monastery hospital. “I gave Robert my silver, Luke’s blood money. When you first mentioned it, I doubted you were the proper person to deliver the silver back to the Duke. Forgive me, you have it with my blessing.” To my surprise, Jack embraced me. After an instant of hesitation, I hugged him back. Tears in his voice, Jack said in my ear, “Mary was right. My anger and bitterness ate me up and left room for nothing else. I was foolish not to enjoy having two sons when I had the chance.” Over the next few days we settled back into our life in town, although Mike kept warning us we would have to return soon to the forest. Jamie enjoyed the life in 201

RULES OF THE HUNT town and helping at the smithy, and he and Davey made fast friends of Thomas’s sons. A week later, the new Captain delivered an invitation for us to visit the Duke at the castle at noon next day. In the evening, we had a council of war, meeting at the smithy with Robert, Thomas, and Jack. “Should we go?” Mike asked. “Do we have a choice?” I said. “If we don’t, we’d better go back into hiding like the day before yesterday, and take Jack, Thomas, and Robert with us. I think we have to risk it. What do you think, men? Why does he want to meet with us? Will he keep his word?” Jack shrugged and looked very unhappy. Robert was silent for a short time before he spoke. “For all that he is evil and unpredictable I think his warped sense of honour is bound up in this.” Jack snorted. “Some honour!” “No, Jack,” Robert said. “We don’t agree with what he sees as honourable, but he does stick to some rules. The trick is to find out which ones. The fact he sent the Captain and not some flunky tells us something.” “We will let the Friends know,” Thomas said. “The boys should be seen entering the castle by as many townspeople as possible. If we can, we should have people wait outside the castle gates for the boys to come out. We should be very obviously waiting there. I’ll go and spread the word.” “Good thinking,” Robert said. “But before you go, give some thought to my question. Why does the Duke wish to meet with them? What does he gain by that?” 202

HUGH McCRACKEN Thomas shook his head. “I don’t know. Who can fathom the mind of the Duke?” “Except, perhaps, Peter,” Jack said quietly. There was the sound of a footfall in the yard outside. Robert, knife in hand, jumped to one side of the smithy door. The door opened and Andrew strode in. Davey launched himself across the room at Andrew. He clung to him while the men shook hands. “I came back immediately after I heard the Duke’s proclamation,” Andrew said. “How did it come about?” Mike and I between us told Andrew of the events since we last met. “Did I do the right thing with the petition, Andrew?” I said. “Yes, it was well done, but you realise it makes the whole thing a personal feud between you and your brothers and the Duke? The meeting tomorrow is safe enough, I think. Thomas’s idea is good. After tomorrow, return to the forest and train. I will wait here till you are safely back in the forest before I leave for home.” “It was lucky your wives insisted on washing our clothes,” I said. “We will be presentable to meet the Duke. Jamie will not accompany us to the castle. He will stay here with Andrew.” At night, I did not sleep at all well. Davey was very restless and muttered in his sleep. He seemed to be talking to Andrew, but what he was saying was not clear. At last, I dropped off.

The figure in the brown habit was kneeling and climbed stiffly to its feet, before it turned to raise a hand in 203

RULES OF THE HUNT blessing. “Remember, no in anger. Anger can destroy ye also. ‘Non quis, sed quid’. No who, but what: no the person but the deed. “Ye hae now entered intae man’s estate, Ah think, and are beginnin’ tae know the doubts and temptations. Dinnae trust anybody that would claim secret knowledge o’ right an’ wrong. Seek a middle way. There are few absolutes, right or wrong. In every man there is a seed of good; in every man lurks the chance of evil. Vade in pace. Dominus vobiscum.” Keith raised his staff, smiled and faded.

Before noon we collected at the smithy and started for the castle. Andrew, at the urging of the other men, remained indoors at the smithy with Jamie. I walked with Jack, followed by Thomas and Davey, with Robert and Mike last. A silent procession formed behind us. At the centre of the drawbridge the men stopped. For an instant, we three boys stood facing them. When we turned to walk to the gate a hail of dried rowan berries fell on us, a blessing from the Friends. The hard red-brown berries clattered on the wooden bridge and splashed noisily in the moat.

204

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

“We are Michael, Davey, and Peter of Möbius. His lordship expects us.” The guard commander stepped out of the guardhouse. “Welcome, masters. I am ordered to conduct you immediately to the great hall. If you would follow me, masters.” The great hall had a high, oak-beam roof with window alcoves set into the thickness of the walls along the length of one wall. The facing wall had two massive fireplaces dividing the wall into thirds. A large plank table stood in the middle third. One chair stood at the centre of the table facing out into the hall. Several wooden backless benches lined the walls. Rushes covered the floor. The guard commander withdrew, and we stood alone in the middle of the great hall gawking round us. After the forest and the small buildings of the town, we found the great hall impressive. Even Davey was subdued. “Have you seen the wall hangings?” Mike said. “They’re fabulous. Each must have taken years to make.” The door to the great hall was thrown open and a crowd of people entered. They divided themselves into groups and stood in some sort of rank order on either side of the door. Their clothing was much more 205

RULES OF THE HUNT colourful than we had seen for some time. Some people from the castle had been in the town from time to time, but in small numbers. Today grouped in the castle, they seemed as bright as peacocks to us. I felt we were drab and dun coloured by comparison. When the newcomers saw us in the centre of the hall there was a buzz of conversation and many sideways glances, but no one looked directly at us and no one approached us. The major domo strode in and stood at the entrance to the hall. He struck his staff on the floor and announced, “His Grace, William, Most Puissant Duke of this Island and the Lands Beyond.” I had carefully rehearsed Mike and Davey in how I wanted them to bow. Those present bowed low, except Mike and Davey who bowed slightly from the waist, and me, who did not move at all. When the Duke entered, he inclined his head to left and right in acknowledgement of the bows. Fractionally before he nodded to the centre, where we stood isolated from the others, I bent forward briefly from the waist and inclined my head in little more than a curt nod. There was a sharp indrawn breath from the major domo, and the Captain, who walked a pace behind the Duke, flushed. The Duke met my look, and I, despite a fluttering in my stomach, held my ground. With a smile that did not reach his eyes, the Duke advanced to the centre of the hall. Short of us, he stopped and turned to face his retainers and guests. At a signal from me, Mike and Davey moved to stand on the Duke’s left, a pace behind him, and I stood on the Duke’s right, half a pace behind him and well in front of 206

HUGH McCRACKEN the major domo and the Captain. When the Captain started forward, hand on the hilt of his sword, the Duke made a sharp chopping movement with his right hand. The Captain fell back. The Duke cleared his throat. “Gentlemen and gentlewomen, I present to you the Masters of Möbius.” The retainers and guests stood motionless. Mike and Davey, awaiting my signal, did not move. Finally, one man in the group nearest the Duke in the hall bowed low, and everyone else promptly followed his lead. Mike and Davey bowed slightly from the waist, and I inclined my head. The Duke smiled grimly but, when he turned to me, his smile seemed genuinely amused. “We must talk privately, Master Peter,” the Duke said, aloud. I tensed, but the Duke went on quietly: “Relax, boy. I am not prepared to have my mind assaulted again, especially in public. We will merely step into an alcove, where we can talk without being overheard.” The Duke raised his voice again, “I commend the masters to you, gentlefolk, please converse with them. Master Peter, by your leave.” He held out a hand inviting me to precede him into the alcove. The Captain stood in the entrance with his back to us. “Where do you boys come from? Who taught you the gradation of bows? Not those rude peasants with whom you have been living, I swear. You had the bow of an almost equal to me to perfection. Some of these dolts will be convinced you are my son, that is what your bow implied. I should have the idiot who bowed 207

RULES OF THE HUNT first to you flogged. God’s Blood, you acknowledged their bows, you did not return them.” I flushed with pleasure. The play really had been worth all the sweat and tears I had put into it. If I ever met the picky, overbearing, nasty specimen that called itself my school’s drama coach again, I’d throw myself into his arms and thank him. “Mmm, you can transfer pleasure, besides pain and grief. Interesting,” the Duke said, and extended his hand to me. I tensed again. “Relax, boy, I do not need to learn a lesson twice. Now I would not force myself on you, but would prefer you to be my friend rather than my enemy. Ah, well. We may choose our friends, but God gives us our relations and our foes, some say. “Well, to business. Peter, we will not both survive The Hunt, this I know. In your petition you said, if I died you would acknowledge my son as heir and Duke. Will you affirm this, here and now, before this company? If I die and you live would you swear allegiance to him and train him to be a fitting Duke, lending him your total support and wisdom?” “Your Grace, why would you ask this of a sworn enemy? Why would you impose this on your son?” “An honest enemy is often better by far than a false, self-serving friend. You, I judge, would do what is best for the Dukedom and its people. Not what is solely in your own interest. A settled succession backed by the Old Ones and the followers of the House of Andrew of the Forest would be best. I sense you speak for both of 208

HUGH McCRACKEN those parties. Those who would oppose the succession of my son would not have the stomach for fight with four warlocks, the Old Ones, and I fancy the enmity of the Church in the person of My Lord Abbot. Are we agreed?” “The Rules of The Hunt are as agreed, My Lord?” “Yes, Peter. As agreed.” The Duke paused and stared at me. I felt fleeting sensations of curiosity, regret, affection, then a flash of anger … mine or the Duke’s? “The Hunt is to the death for one of us. There is no other way. It is so ordained.” At the Duke’s words I felt a cold shiver of fear … no question this time, it was all mine. I swallowed hard. “We are agreed, My Lord Duke.” When the Duke and I came back into the main part of the great hall, he nodded to the major domo, who banged his staff three times on the floor. Those assembled quietened immediately and turned to face the Duke and me. “Gentlemen and gentlewomen, Your Duke and Peter, Lord of Möbius, have reached an understanding. The Masters of Möbius appeared at The Hunt in a direct personal challenge. We will meet again in the next Hunt. Either Peter, Lord of Möbius, or I will die. Masters Michael and Davey may die, of course, but if they do not die and I live, the feud is over. Masters Michael and Davey may live free and honoured in my domain. Should I die in The Hunt … Peter, Lord of Möbius, will you continue?” “Should His Grace die in The Hunt, We, Peter, Michael, Davey, Colin, and Keith of Möbius hereby 209

RULES OF THE HUNT acknowledge His Grace’s son, William Robert Henry, as his true, lawful heir and successor. This we do in our name, in the name of the Old Ones, and in the name of his Grace’s cousin, Andrew of the Forest. “Should we all remain here after The Hunt, in the flesh, we accept the wardship of his grace’s son. We will be true and loyal guardians till his majority. We will defend his person and Dukedom by all means within our power. Should we not remain here, in the flesh, the wardship will be assumed by his lordship’s cousins the Abbot, Andrew of the Forest, and our brother Keith of Möbius, now of the monastery.” There was a gasp of astonishment from the assembly, and the Duke whispered in my ear, “That was not part of the agreement, young man. You go too far.” “I, My Lord Duke. I go too far?” The Duke roared with laughter. “So be it. So be it now and forever. Let us seal this bargain, Peter, Lord of Möbius.” The Duke grasped my hand in his, and pulled me to him. “The Kiss of Peace, your training surely included this,” the Duke whispered in my ear. The Duke and I embraced each other, with a kiss on each cheek. I felt an overpowering sense of desolation, of loneliness, and again the flash of anger, then it was past. “The audience is over,” the Duke announced in a loud voice. “Captain, clear the hall of everyone except the masters. Now. By God,” he shouted when some seemed to linger. “Major domo, are there comfits or 210

HUGH McCRACKEN sweetmeats in this castle? I am sure the masters are still, in some ways, boys enough to enjoy them. Well. What are you waiting for man? My guests are waiting.” The major domo ran from the room. The Duke drew me aside from the others and I did not resist. “I am truly sorry,” the Duke said, “we ever met at the monastery. In my absence you will well control this rabble, you are in some ways myself, and I suppose, that itself would prevent us being friends. The major domo will see you out. I have other business to tend. Go with God, Peter.” The Duke put his hand out to me again and I shook it. “God’s Blood, boy, I need not your understanding and compassion … get out of my mind!” When we came out of the castle, Robert, Thomas, and Jack ran to us. “Are you all right, boys?” Thomas said. “We were concerned. You were so long.” Mike described the events in the great hall and Robert, Thomas, and Jack expressed their surprise and puzzlement over the events. “How can the Duke be as evil as you describe, Jack, and as others say, and yet be so friendly and nice to us today?” Davey said. “Keith says no man is totally evil and no man is totally good,” I said. “I believe him. What we saw today may be part of the good in the Duke, but he is still evil and must be destroyed. He will still play for keeps in The Hunt. Today may even be an attempt to soften me towards him, to make me drop my guard and be easier to best in The Hunt.” 211

RULES OF THE HUNT Back at the smithy, the events had to be retold again for Andrew and Jamie. Andrew was inclined to agree with me that the Duke’s friendliness today was a ploy: the Duke did nothing without a hidden motive. In the matter of the wardship of the Duke’s son, however, Andrew felt the Duke was serious, since it represented security for his infant son. “The support of the Church, the Old Ones, and my House would ensure his safety and succession,” Andrew said. “It would also serve our purpose. The Duke would become us that much sooner. That was well conceived, Peter. I expect the Duke will send for the Abbot and a formal document will be drawn.” “But what I still don’t understand,” Davey said, “is how the Duke can be so evil and yet seem so nice, and be so worried about a child, his son, only a baby.” “Davey, is it evil to kill?” I said. “Yes, I suppose so.” “Bernard killed the Captain during my rescue, and Mike and Bernard killed the two guards.” “But that was different.” “How was it different? Suppose the Captain and the guards had families. Would they not think Bernard and Mike evil?” “Oh, Pete. You make things so difficult. Why can’t it be nice and simple, black and white?” Davey said. “Andrew, did Bernard and Mike do the right thing in the forest rescuing Pete? Has Pete the right to kill the Duke in The Hunt before the Duke kills him?” “Yes, Davey, I think so,” Andrew said, “because …” “No,” Davey interrupted. “Don’t because me, don’t do a Pete on me. If you say so, that’s fine.” 212

HUGH McCRACKEN “Each man must come to terms with his own conscience,” Andrew said. “No man can truly judge another; no man can finally condemn or forgive another. Each must act, then live with his action.” “No offence meant,” Mike said, “but can we talk about what we are going to do? Tomorrow, between now and The Hunt, at The Hunt? This is all very interesting, but all of us could die in the Hunt unless we train and plan. I for one, in The Hunt, will kill anyone who even looks like taking or killing any one of us, and I’ll worry about it later.” “Me, too,” Davey said. “Pete, you and Andrew worry about it. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” “That’ll be the first I’ve ever heard of Davey doing anything without arguing,” Jamie said. We all laughed. “Jamie made a joke,” Mike said. Davey left Andrew’s side to chase Jamie round the smithy.

213

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

We said our farewells at dawn next day, the silver tipped quarrels safely stowed in my pack. We retrieved our crossbows and other weapons then set up camp on our rock. “Mike,” I said, “you reckon we should know within a three to four hour radius of town. I’ve been thinking about it. If we have any chance of going home, I think we have to be in the grove, or at least where the wood still stands in our time … with the Duke when he is killed. We have to be there sometime after sunset and before sunrise, because I think that’s our best time.” “I see what you’re getting at,” Mike said. “We should start with the grove and get to know it and the surrounding woods thoroughly. Maybe we should try to survey where the wood in our time is in relation to the forest today.” “Right,” I said, “for example, how long would it take, in our home time to walk from the wood, where the grove is now, to the castle ruins? How long to walk across the wood from the shore side to the inland side? How far in from the high tide line is the road in our time? Those would give us a fix on where, in the present forest, the wood of our time is.” “We can fix the edges pretty well,” Davey said. “It’s about five minutes along the beach, away from town, 214

HUGH McCRACKEN from the paddling pool, and the paddling pool is at the cliff on the beach.” “Good, that’s a start. Let’s go down there now,” I said. On the beach, where the paddling pool used to be … will be? Mike grinned and said, “How do we measure five minutes?” Davey shrugged and laughed. “Well, it was a good idea at the time.” “No. It’s all right,” I said. “If you say ‘naught and one, naught and two’ and so on you can count seconds. When you reach sixty, you put a pebble from your right hand into your left and start again. We can get about five minutes quite accurately.” We walked the beach several times at different speeds, but each time Mike felt we were in the wrong place. Tempers frayed a little. “One last time,” Mike said, “before we do something else.” “This is it,” Davey said. “Look, see the line of rocks coming up as the tide goes out? They line up with the road that runs inland on the town side of the wood. My bum remembers them! Me and Rod ran his father’s boat onto them. We’d been told to stay well out into the bay as we came up on that road from either side. After, Dad took me down to the beach at low tide to show me how the road and the rocks lined up, and then whacked me right there on the beach.” Davey rubbed his rump reminiscently. “Yes, you’re right,” Mike said. “Let’s take a line on the rocks.” We climbed the beach to where the forest started. 215

RULES OF THE HUNT Mike looked round and said, “find the first tree in that’s in line with the rocks. Immediately above head level, we cut a vertical slit, that’s up and down, Davey. Now we move in a straight line.” “How do we do it?” Davey said. “Once we’re in the wood we won’t be able to see the rocks.” “There are four of us. You only need three points to make a straight line,” Mike said. “Number one climbs the first marked tree; two climbs another tree in line with the rocks and the first tree, three lines up another tree with the first two. After that, it’s leapfrog, place one to three through the forest. Right, let’s get started.” We worked hard at it, working our way into the wood till we reached the track North from town. “Remember when we first visited the grove after we’d been North?” Mike said. “We took a side track off this trail that led us to the grove. The side track was to the seaward side, so this trail is inland of the grove. What about it, Pete? Suppose we take this trail as the landward limit of the wood in our time? It’s close enough for our purposes, inside the real limits, if anything.” “Right,” I said. “That’ll save us some work. We can find the far end of the wood from the beach and come back up to this trail in a straight line.”

By noon of the third day, we had marked off the wood as it existed in our time to our satisfaction. Beginning at the grove itself, we started to learn the area tree-bytree, bush-by-bush, blade of grass by blade of grass. We marked selected trees in straight lines radiating out 216

HUGH McCRACKEN from the grove and then started on The Game of Hunt. We took turns at being led blindfold to a spot in the wood and then orienting ourselves and finding our way back to the grove. The second part of the game was the now familiar hide-and-seek and we played it with deadly seriousness. One evening after supper, Mike said, “I think we all know the grove and the wood in our time, as well as we are going to. What we have to decide now, is what we do, and where we go, between the start of The Hunt when we are released, and immediately after sunset when we want to be in our wood. “What I suggest we do, is take the trail West from town, the one that leads to the monastery. We can move fast as a group along the trail, leaving plenty for them to follow. Some way out, we detour to the South. That’s almost uninhabited now. We’ll lay false trails and traps there before we cut North across the monastery trail, then go North till we’re about opposite our wood, and then come back East to the grove by shortly after sunset. Tomorrow morning, we pack up here and leave. We have to try our run several days at least, so we know we can make it in the time we have.” We were quiet and thoughtful next morning when we cleared our rock for what might well be the last time. To get to the trail West, we had to detour NorthEast round the town and then follow the river inland till we could ford it, because we did not wish to be seen in town with our crossbows. Across the river we struck South and West till we hit the monastery trail. This was slow going, since we wished to leave the fewest 217

RULES OF THE HUNT possible physical signs of our passage. Once on the monastery trail we walked in a group, as up a highway. Several miles down the trail, Mike said, “we’ll go South here. Everyone memorise the landmarks. It doesn’t matter if we leave tracks, we’ll want them to follow us in here.” Some distance in, Davey, in the lead at the time, shrieked and vanished. The rest of us rushed forward, and managed to stop, clutching at bushes, before we too slid over the cliff. “Where the hell is he?” Mike said. “Come on, you lot. Stop mucking around. I’m down here,” came Davey’s voice from below us. Mike inched forward on his stomach to peer over the edge. The trees and underbrush grew right up to the edge of a long drop. A tangle of roots even grew over the cliff-face in some places. “Hang onto my ankles,” Mike said. “I’m going to have to lean further out. I can’t see Davey at all. Where are you?” “I’m in here, you daft gowk,” Davey said, from almost beneath our feet. “Hang on again,” Mike said. “Pete, I can touch his finger tips, can you let me down a bit further?” I gripped both of Mike’s ankles while Jamie clung to mine. Gently, I inched forward. “Right. Stop,” Mike said. “I can touch him. Davey, can you stretch up a little further so I can grip your wrist while you grip mine. Great. Now hang on. See if you can get any purchase with your feet, while we try to pull you up.” Mike and I both edged back slowly. Davey 218

HUGH McCRACKEN scrabbled with his feet and finally emerged like a genie from a bottle. “That’s our first trap.” Mike said. “We lay a strong trail up to here, to get the dogs and the hunters running, or at least moving as fast as they can in this wood. Then we back track to the stream we crossed a bit earlier, and go upstream, South, then back to the monastery trail. There we start a new hot trail to another trap. That should slow them down a bit.” By sunset, we were back in the forest, inland, West of the grove. We were all quite happy with our progress, sure now we could run an all-day trail with detours from the other side of town to the grove. For most of the next week we worked each day at building traps and ambushes in the side trails we were laying, off the several possible routes we hoped to follow. Jamie’s experience with ropes came in very handy and in a couple of places we dug pits that we covered with a fine hatching of small branches and leaves. Shortly after noon a few weeks before The Hunt, we were crossing an animal trail when we heard the view halloo, then the sounds of an animal rushing towards us. “A pig. A great big pig,” Davey shouted jumping for a tree. We all managed to find suitable trees in time. The boar totally ignored us and plunged on up the trail. Cautiously, we came back down. “That’s what they were hunting,” Mike said, “but let’s get off this trail anyway, with the fewest possible tracks.” 219

RULES OF THE HUNT We had barely cleared the trail before hunters with dogs on long leads appeared, followed shortly by the Duke, the Huntmaster and some guests. A hunter ran back and said, “My Lord, the boar has gone to earth in a thorn thicket. My men are finding how big it is. They can probably flush the boar for Your Grace, towards this copse, if Your Grace and Your Grace’s guests would rest there awhile.” We followed the Duke and his guests. I edged my way round the clearing till I was almost opposite the Duke, and well clear of any of the guests. After a quick check that none of the huntsmen was likely to come up behind me, I stepped out. “Good day, My Lord,” I said, and bowed. “I trust Your Grace is having an enjoyable hunt.” The Duke started, but when the Huntmaster was about to move forward, he placed a restraining hand on his arm. “My Lord of Möbius, a pleasant surprise. Good day. We were not hunting you, today.” “Yes, Your Grace, I know. The boar passed this way not minutes ago. Good hunting.” When I turned to go, one of the Duke’s guests nocked an arrow in his bow and started to draw. There was the whistling sound, and the guest crashed on his back, a crossbow quarrel sticking out of his chest. “God’s Blood. Stop. You breach my oath,” the Duke shouted when the remaining guests began to draw weapons. At the same time, Mike’s voice sounded loud and clear, “Hold. Or the Duke dies next.” “We came in peace, Duke William,” my voice said 220

HUGH McCRACKEN out of the forest. “In courtesy, we will accept that Your Grace’s guest acted without Your Grace’s knowledge or consent and that our truce is unbroken.” At that, there was a shout from the huntsmen. The wild boar crashed through the thicket into the copse. It made straight for the Duke, who was caught completely off guard. For a horror struck moment, everything seemed to move in slow motion. The Duke stood rooted to the spot, his guests badly placed to intercept even if they dared. The Huntmaster struggled desperately to bring the boar spear to bear on the rushing animal. Four quarrels sang through the air. One caught the boar’s neck while the others sank deep in the chest immediately behind the shoulders. It crashed to its knees and skidded to a standstill, its snout touching the Duke’s legs.

There was an immediate hubbub, then the Duke’s voice cut through the noise: “Masters of Möbius, I thank you. Our agreement stands. Huntsmen, butcher the boar now. We will eat here in this clearing with the masters. It is after all, their boar.” To the guests, the Duke said, “return to the castle now, with the dogs and the main body of the huntsmen. Take that with you.” He gestured at the body of the dead guest. “He died by his own hand.”

221

RULES OF THE HUNT

“My Lord, will you be safe?” one guest said. The Duke roared with laughter. “Have you ever seen legs savaged by a wild boar? I could be lying writhing in agony now, perhaps disembowelled. The masters could have killed me more easily than they killed the boar. I am safer with these enemies, methinks, than I am with my friends.” Raising his voice again, the Duke said, “Masters, my guests are leaving. Let us meet here in peace and partake of this boar, roasted.” Davey’s voice, out of the surrounding brush, said enthusiastically, but with reverence, “Roast pork. Roast pork at last.” The Duke threw his head back and his laughter sounded genuinely amused. On the Duke’s orders, a fire was lit at one end of the dell. We sat round it with him, while the Huntmaster supervised the remaining five huntsmen in the roasting of chunks hacked off the boar, since roasting the whole boar would take too long. 222

HUGH McCRACKEN “May I return this to you.” The Duke fished in the purse that hung from his waist and produced the Möbius loop he had taken from me at the monastery. “Your Grace, this is not mine,” I said, after I had looked at it. “This is silver, finely worked, mine was pewter.” “I had my jeweller copy it, Peter,” the Duke said, “and I would have you keep the silver one. May I place it round your neck?” The Duke rose and stretched the fine link chain over my head. I saw myself within arm’s reach and the others staring at me. I’ve never felt so lonely or so despairing. A voice in my head said: “This could well be my son, and that right welcome.” A warm pleasant sensation. Then, a sudden panic, an urge to run. “God’s Blood, boy. I mean you no harm. Get out of my mind!” He sat again and avoided my eye. “Can one of you explain this bauble, what does it mean?” Mike, Davey, and I explained to the best of our ability the meaning of the Möbius loop and that, in turn, led to talk of where or when we came from. The Duke’s grasp of our arguments was even swifter than Robert’s had been. “These weapons you used to rescue Peter, and now to kill the boar, may I see them?” the Duke said. “By no means,” I snapped. “You may not see them.” The Huntmaster bristled, but the Duke smiled and said, “Peter, Peter, you could well be my son, and 223

RULES OF THE HUNT welcome so. I think the Huntmaster came to announce the boar is ready.” Davey, mouth full of chunks of meat, mumbled, “God. Roast pork. I haven’t had roast pork for a year. I got some salt and bannock in my pack. Anyone like some?” At my angry, “Don’t be such a fool,” Davey stopped half way to his feet, mouth stuffed, he looked from me to the Duke. “Yes, I would eat of your bread and take of your salt,” the Duke said. “We have a truce till The Hunt. We can agree here this sharing does not take us past noon of The Hunt. But that it does bind us to our agreements for after The Hunt, whoever survives. I would there were some way in which all of us could survive. Some way that you could remain here to advise and strengthen my House, in a league with the Church and the Old Ones for the well-being of this realm, if not as friends. We would be a powerful coalition indeed, not easily denied.” “Such an alliance, now requires your death,” I said with no honorifics. Only the Duke’s swift gesture at the Huntmaster saved me from being floored by the Huntmaster’s massive hand. The Duke sighed. “There are times when one must be sacrificed for the good of all. You will forgive me if I continue to hope you are the intended sacrifice and not I.” Having eaten our fill, the Duke and his men left for the castle, leaving a portion of the boar with us. “Sorry about the bread and salt,” Davey said, as we lay at our camp. “I forgot you said sharing them made 224

HUGH McCRACKEN us like family — sworn not to betray or fight each other. The Duke seemed so friendly today; it really is hard to think of him doing all the stuff people say he does.” “He has done most of the stuff, take my word for it. It might be that all rulers of this age are equally cruel and hard. Maybe they wouldn’t survive otherwise. I don’t know. But I can’t see Andrew or Robert sending a dead guest off like so much spoiled meat. I think the Duke enjoys cruelty. If it wasn’t for that, I think I might even like him.” “Pete,” Davey’s sleepy voice said: “It’s funny; you and the Duke seem to understand each other sometimes without speaking. You get away with saying things to him that anyone else would be flogged or maybe even killed for. G’night.” I found Davey’s closing remark anything but comforting, and I lay for a long time thinking and searching my own conscience.

225

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Mid-morning next day, saw us at the monastery. The Abbot congratulated me on the petition and on our meeting with the Duke. “Should you remain, Peter,” the Abbot said, “you could rise high in the church, in the ranks of the church’s diplomats. His Lordship has sent a text of your agreement here to be copied. It is almost ready. But come, you must wish to see Keith.” When we entered the room where the scribes worked, Bernard rushed over to us and hugged Jamie and Davey before setting them down and pushing them to where Keith was working. “Masters,” Bernard said, to Mike and me with a bow. “I have heard of your prowess at the court of His Lordship. I am proud indeed to be the servant of such a House.” “Bernard!” Keith said, “ye arenae ma servant. Father, can ye no convince him o’ that?” “Quiet, Master Keith,” Bernard said. He ruffled Keith’s hair. “I choose to serve your House. Even My Lord Abbot cannot stop me doing so. Masters, I am learning to read. Master Keith himself is teaching me.” I drew the Abbot aside. “Father, will you hear my confession? I have not been to confession in months and I have much to say. 226

HUGH McCRACKEN Would you also bless some weapons for me, for us, for The Hunt?” “Willingly, to both questions,” the Abbot said. “Bernard, the boys will stay several days, could you fetch lay brothers’ robes for them and arrange to have their own clothes washed?” That evening, Mike and I strolled on the beach while Jamie and Davey sat with Keith. “Keith seems much better,” I said. “He sits well by himself, but I wish he could walk more on his own.” The next few days were like a holiday, and we enjoyed lounging round the beach with Keith, who with the Abbot’s permission also took a break from his studies and work in the copy room. The night before we left, Davey crept across to my pallet on the hospital floor. “Keith still can’t stand properly on his own. Will he ever be right again?” “I know he will walk again, but only with difficulty. I’ve seen him a dream. He’s not coming back with us. He’s going to stay here in this time with the Abbot and Bernard.” Davey sobbed gently. I tried to comfort him. “Shush, Davey. It’s what Keith wants. I’ve talked to him about it, and to the Abbot. It’s for the best, honest. Shush. Don’t waken everyone. It’ll only upset Keith.” In the morning, Davey was able to be cheerful. “Before you leave, Masters of Möbius,” the Abbot said, “I would have you sign this agreement, both copies. I will carry it to the Duke for his signature. One copy I will keep for you, and I will place the seal of the monastery on it as witness. I would like to say a special 227

RULES OF THE HUNT mass for you and your safety between now and The Hunt. It would please me if you would attend the chapel now.” After the mass, dressed in our own shirts and tunics again, we left for our last stretch in the forest before The Hunt.

The day before The Hunt dawned clear and beautiful. Quietly, without the usual chatter from Davey and Jamie, we made our final preparations. Weapons hidden, traps set; we made a last check of our camp and the cache. Then, on impulse, we embraced each other before we set out for town. The town was already busy when we got there. Not the bustle, noise, and excitement of a market day or a fair. Those condemned to The Hunt were there with their families for a final gathering, each hoping he would survive and return to the old life. Lots had simply come to see those less lucky than themselves and, in the Abbot’s words: “Thereby derive some small comfort.” I wondered what was in store for us. “It’s going to be like a wake,” Mike said, “but with the corpse still alive.” At first we had to push our way through the throng of people, then the crowd started to part before us. Men, with startled looks at me, began to bow and step aside. Jonathon and Bernard, sons of Thomas the Tanner, jumped from the surrounding people. They leapt at Davey to hug him and thump his back. “Keith’s here,” they shouted. Rather less 228

HUGH McCRACKEN boisterously, they greeted Mike, Jamie, and me. They basked in the notoriety of actually knowing, and daring to touch, the Boys Who Are Warlocks, the Masters of Möbius, and fairly danced round us. “Everyone is at the mill. Jack has cleared the big room for us to meet. We are all to eat dinner there.” At the mill, the big room was crowded. Andrew and his family were already there, so were Jack and his wife, Robert and his family, and Thomas the Tanner and his wife. Keith stood between the Abbot and Bernard, a broad grin on his face. With a whoop, Davey ran to Keith, and skidded to a standstill in front of him. “You all right now, Keith? You can walk and everything?” “Aye, Ah’m fine. Ah could beat ye any time.” They pummelled each other briefly, before Bernard grasped Davey’s wrists. “Master Keith has to sit now,” Bernard said. “He can only stand for so long, but he wanted to be standing for you coming in.” Immediately filled with concern, Davey helped Keith sit in the wooden chair behind him. I shuddered when I looked at the chair. It was like Simmons’s in the torture chamber at the castle. The Abbot followed my look, and said, “Bernard made this chair especially for Keith, Peter. He calls it Keith’s throne. Those two poles slide through the holes and two monks can carry Keith whenever he has to go any distance. He will never walk easily again.” “Everyone sit,” Andrew called, “and we will eat.” Near noon, Samuel and Martha arrived. 229

RULES OF THE HUNT “There are several boatloads of strange men-atarms arrived at the harbour,” Samuel announced. “Twenty or thirty men at least. Why would that be? There have never been Offislanders here at The Hunt, not even His Lordship’s guests may take part in The Hunt.” Andrew and the Abbot withdrew to one side to discuss the meaning of this news, but otherwise the atmosphere of a family party continued. I found myself beside and attracted to Margaret, Andrew’s oldest daughter. We sat together talking till Andrew announced we should set out for The Hunt Feast in the square, it being well into the afternoon. The feast was not quite what I had expected. Two oxen had been roasted over a huge pit of coals and there were mountains of bread and bannock. All the families had also brought baskets with them and groups settled round the square, sitting on the ground, like a collection of family picnics. There was one long table set up at one end of the square, with a chair at the centre and benches on either side of the chair. A trumpet sounded and a herald announced in a loud voice, “His Grace, William, Most Puissant Duke of This Island.” In silence, the Duke took his place at the chair. “My people. I welcome you to this feast in honour of The Hunt. Those who survive till noon the day after tomorrow have a free pardon. I see My Lord Abbot has graced us with his presence. My Lord Abbot, would you join me at table? Peter, Lord of Möbius, would you and the Masters of Möbius also join our table?” We made our way through the crowd to the high 230

HUGH McCRACKEN table, Robert and Thomas carrying Keith in his chair. When the Duke saw Bernard, he said to the Captain of the Guard, “arrest that deserter.” Before the Captain could move, Bernard said in a loud voice, “I come under Your Grace’s Rules of The Hunt to surrender myself for the judgement of The Hunt, to die or to live and be pardoned as God decides in The Hunt. I mean to join the service of the Lord of Möbius if cleansed by The Hunt.” The Duke gestured to the Captain, who fell back to his place, and Bernard stood behind Keith at the table. “My Lord Abbot, will you sit to my left? My Lord Peter,” I bowed slightly and the Duke returned the bow, “on my right?” “My Lord,” I said, facing the people in the square. “We ask that our cousin, Andrew of the Forest, join us at table. Should Your Grace die in The Hunt, it is fitting that your people see now those who will assume wardship of Your Grace’s infant son and will secure his succession.” The Duke grimaced and growled at me, “Peter, you press too hard.” “Not I, Sire. I have not imported Offislanders to The Hunt.” Aloud the Duke said, “cousin, Andrew of the Forest, would you be so kind as to sit with the Masters of Möbius? My Lord Abbot, would you say grace?” In an aside to me, the Duke added, “and let us get this affair started at last.” The Abbot said grace, but in the silence after the Amen, he went on, “My Lord Duke, Peter, Lord of Möbius, Masters of Möbius, Gentlemen and 231

RULES OF THE HUNT Gentlewomen, people of the island, Offisland men-atarms. I will personally say The Hunt Mass tomorrow after dawn in the square before the church. His Grace has seen fit to change some Rules of The Hunt, and I here announce another. In years past, a general absolution has been granted, in advance, to hunters and hunted for deaths that occur during The Hunt. Since I know not the Offislanders, new here for The Hunt, I will grant them absolution, only after the fact, on full confession and full disclosure, on a personal basis and then only for deaths in the heat of battle.” The Duke leapt to his feet. “My Lord Abbot, you exceed your authority. You cannot do this.” “My Lord Duke, I have done it. I, as Abbot and Bishop of this island, so declare. It touches not Your Grace’s temporal authority. If I err, let God decide, otherwise let the feast commence.” There was a short silence, then the Duke sat and the feast started. The afternoon passed into early evening and the ale flowed. The crowd grew noisy. The Duke withdrew without fanfare. Our group also left quietly for the mill. Since Jamie was not part of The Hunt, he, Samuel and Martha had decided not to attend The Hunt Feast. When the others returned, he rushed over to join us boys again. I noticed it was Keith who took pains to see Jamie was not excluded in Davey’s obvious enthusiasm at seeing Keith again. Although I’d barely even noticed Margaret, Andrew’s daughter, before, seeing her now, talking to her, being with her, seemed much more attractive and interesting than talking with the adults. We drifted over 232

HUGH McCRACKEN to a quiet corner to sit together on grain sacks. When Andrew called me to council, I felt quite irrationally annoyed. “I’ll be back Margaret, don’t go away.” “We think the extra men-at-arms are here for The Hunt tomorrow,” Andrew said. “Usually what happens is the Captain calls a roll. Each of the hunted is called. He strips and is searched — the hunted are not allowed any weapons. Something he is wearing is kept for the dogs to scent. They draw lots for the order of start. At noon, the church bell rings and The Hunt starts. Each pair of dogs is given an article and they set out. We think the Duke intends to use the Offislanders to form a cordon and search, rather than hunt, for you.” “Like beaters at a grouse shoot,” Mike said. “But for that to work, the grouse have to be between the beaters and the hunters and the grouse have to panic and fly. If they do try that, our hideouts in the trees and dugouts will work even better than they would with the dogs.” “We are as prepared as we ever will be,” I said. “Need we talk further?” Andrew nudged me and whispered, “go back to Margaret.” I blushed, but quickly left the group to rejoin Margaret. At dusk, the group broke up to return to their homes before curfew. We boys opted to stay together at the mill, but I walked with Andrew’s family, hand in hand with Margaret, back to the tannery. I ran back in the dusk. As before, I dodged from shadow to shadow, and kept an eye out for the watch. “Where’s Jamie?” I said. 233

RULES OF THE HUNT “Samuel and Martha took him with them,” Mike said. “Kicking and screaming,” Davey added. “Not really,” Keith said. “Samuel thought the four of us should be alone together this last night as we were on the first. Jamie wasn’t pleased, but he agreed. The Abbot and Bernard have gone with Jack and his wife.” Davey and Keith sat huddled together, talking and laughing, as if the incident at the castle had never been. Mike and I sat back on grain sacks. “She’s a looker, all right,” Mike said. “I wonder why we didn’t notice her when we were at Andrew’s way back?” “What are you talking about?” “Come off it. Margaret, Andrew’s daughter, that’s who. I saw the pair of you sitting gawking at each other like sick cows. That’s why its called calf love, I suppose. You picked a fine time, didn’t you? If we’re stuck here, I suppose I don’t mind too much. But please, not because you’re moonstruck over a girl and can’t concentrate to get us home.” “What? I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening. I was thinking,” I said. “Yes, and I know what about. God, what a time to go all soppy over a girl. Let’s bed down, it could be a long day tomorrow.” “Or a very short one,” I said. “Is it all right to lie with you, Keith?” Mike said. “I mean, I won’t hurt your legs or anything, will I?” “I’m like Davey. I need to go. Can you help me outside, boys. I can’t walk that far by myself.” Later, settled under our blanket, Davey wriggled 234

HUGH McCRACKEN close to me. “Think, Pete,” Davey said. “Maybe tomorrow or the day after, we might be home. Won’t it be funny to have a real bed again? What were you and Mike fighting about?” “We weren’t quarrelling, just talking.” “You’re not both soft on Margaret are you? That’s all I need, you all soppy over a girl on our last night here.” I sighed, growing up was not the simple unalloyed fun and joy adults at home made it out to be.

235

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

In the pre-dawn gloom, I stirred, made to snuggle down again, then realised what day it was. The mill door opened and the Abbot’s voice said, “time to rise, boys. Rouse yourselves.” Mike and I got up and splashed ourselves with cold water. Bernard carried Keith out and, on coming back, placed him in his chair. Davey slowly stretched, then suddenly became aware of the bustle round him. The room gradually filled with our family from this time. We all broke our fast together, with a hearty meal before the dawn mass. Since there would be no time for the more normal large dinner about ten, the Abbot had given a general dispensation to eat before the mass. I walked to the square in front of the church hand in hand with Margaret. We knelt together for the Abbot’s blessing to the hunted before the mass. The mass over, those to be hunted were called one by one from the roll held by the Herald. In all, fifteen names were called before the Herald announced, “Peter, Lord of Möbius, and the Masters of Möbius, who will draw and leave in one party.” I felt myself flush from head to toe when I stripped to be searched. I put my clothes on again rapidly except the one leg of my hose that the guards kept for the dogs. The draw for starting position began when we 236

HUGH McCRACKEN had been searched, since we were the last to be called. We drew a middle time and had to wait while the earlier starters left to scattered cheers. Before Andrew left, he embraced each of us in turn. “Davey, my son, be a good man here or in your own time. God willing, we will meet again. Michael, go with God. Care well for my other sons. Peter, should you remain here after The Hunt, I would willingly see you husband to my Margaret. A son indeed. I will not run with you in The Hunt. We will best survive separately, and the needs of my House must be pre-eminent. Bernard will remain with you. Go with God.” “Go with God, Andrew, till we meet again,” we chorused. “Pete,” Mike said: “I don’t know whether I want to go back or not. We could do well here.” “I don’t know either,” Davey sniffled, then pulled away and straightened. “I’d like to stay and work with Andrew. Keith’ll be here and Jamie too, and Bernard, but I want to see Mum and Dad again too.” I sighed, “I don’t know if we can get back but, come what may, we have to survive till noon tomorrow. Try not to think too much about it. I asked the Abbot and he said, ‘you must leave something to God. Man plans in vain. Unless God wills it, it will not happen.’ But when I asked him if it was wrong to plan, he laughed and said, ‘plan, my son. He who has no plans may not be able to take advantage of the opportunities God offers’.” Mike laughed. “God helps him that helps himself.” Davey added, “and God help him that’s caught at it.” 237

RULES OF THE HUNT We all laughed, then sobered again when Bernard approached and bowed. In a low voice Bernard said, “I will await you on the monastery trail, masters” “Bernard, you might be safer on your own,” I said. “Master Keith wishes me to be with you. Anyway, the Abbot would skin me alive if I let anything happen to you that I could possibly prevent.” Bernard grinned. “Having broken my oath to the Duke, I cannot swear allegiance to another till I am cleansed by the Trial of The Hunt. Then I will be Master Keith’s man. He will someday be Abbot, and I will be the physical strength he lacks. I am out next, masters, till later.” About midmorning, we were finally called. At the gate, the crowd on one side parted and Keith was carried to the exit in his chair, flanked by the Abbot and Robert. We bowed deeply to Keith and the Abbot. Then we were out and running. Clear of the town, we moved swiftly along the monastery trail.

238

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

We travelled for almost an hour before, at a bend in the trail, Bernard One Ear sat waiting for us. Davey ran ahead but before he reached Bernard, Jamie leapt out of the brush and jumped on him. They tussled and shadowboxed each other. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be in The Hunt,” Davey said. “I’m glad you’re here.” Jamie beamed at us, and ducked his head shyly. “I overheard some Offisland men-at-arms talking. They’re not going to beat for you, the way you thought. They are to stand guard round the grove. The Duke thinks your power can only be used to the full in the grove, and he doesn’t intend to let you meet him in battle there. I came to warn you.” “Jamie showed me where you had stashed your packs and weapons,” Bernard said. “I have them here.” “You’ll have to stay with us now, Jamie,” Mike said. “You go to earth and stay hidden till noon tomorrow, once we get into the grove.” “Since you were almost last out,” Bernard said, “The Hunt will not be far behind you. We should move on. Where now, Master Peter?” “Mike leads in the wood,” I said. “Will The Hunt be mounted?” Mike said. Bernard laughed and waved his hand at the forest 239

RULES OF THE HUNT on either side of the trail. “No, Master Michael, a horse would have difficulties except on well-trodden trails and for sure could not move easily off trails and no hunted in his right mind would go to ground near one.” “But the Duke and the Captain were mounted at the monastery when I was taken,” I said, “and the Duke said they had been hunting.” Bernard frowned. “Certainly the Duke rides to a convenient point to start a Hunt, but the actual Hunt would be on foot. In any case, remember, although the Duke and his Captain were mounted, the escort was not.” “So if the Duke rides today it would be for convenience and prestige, not speed, since all his hunters will be on foot,” I said. Bernard laughed. “After what happened on the way from the monastery, I doubt the Duke will be in the fore.” “Is he a coward then?” Davey said. “No, Master Davey, not cowardly, but not foolhardy either. A few men ahead to draw your fire. I fancy he will not relish meeting you alone.” “Right, let’s move,” Mike said. “We don’t have to bother covering our tracks. We want them to follow us on this bit.” We walked farther up the monastery trail before we turned off onto a narrow track towards the cliffs Davey had discovered by sliding over the edge. “You cannot go far in this direction, Masters,” Bernard said, frowning. “There are cliffs ahead.” “We know,” Mike said, “but will the hunters?” “You hope they will follow in haste and stumble off 240

HUGH McCRACKEN the cliffs? It won’t work. The hunters will have hunted this island from end to end since childhood. They will for sure know of these cliffs.” “There is an open space before the thick brush at the edge of the cliffs. Will the dogs not be running? Will the hunters be able to stop them in time?” Bernard shook his head. “No, Master Michael, if I was handling the dogs I would for sure pull them back nearing the cliffs, lest they fell over in their excitement.” “So we’ve just wasted our time,” Davey grumbled. “Not so,” Bernard said. “Break branches and shrub right up to the edge to make it look as though you in your ignorance of the country had blundered over the edge. Then they will have to send someone round and down to see if you are fallen there and hidden from view here by the brush.” “OK,” Mike said. “That will work for us maybe even better than we had planned. It should slow them down without anyone getting killed.” Jamie tugged at Mike’s sleeve. “If we pee over the edge the dogs will sense that we have gone down.” Mike laughed. “Right, you, and Davey stand at the very edge while Pete and I hang onto you.” Giggling, Jamie and Davey peed over the cliff. Then, Bernard had us drop rocks and branches down to disturb the foliage that grew on ledges and at the foot of the cliffs. Mike leaned out, looking down. “Great, it does look as if at least some of us could have gone over. Thanks, Bernard. A great idea.” “How do we go from here? The dogs will follow our 241

RULES OF THE HUNT most recent scent.” Mike grinned. “Jamie thought of that.” He pulled a vial from his satchel. “An extract of wildcat scent glands. Samuel had it made for us. All of you, single file to the stream. Davey lead. Remember our game of Hunt — no trace. Bernard, can you move without leaving a track to follow? We have all practiced long and hard at it.” Bernard nodded. “Before I was called into the service of the Duke, I hunted his game without his leave. I was never caught. I can cover my tracks. Never fear, Masters.” “Right then,” Mike said. “At the stream, upstream in the water back to the monastery trail.” Mike followed the group, checking for evidence of our passage, sprinkling from the vial as he moved. The stream cut across the monastery trail and Mike made us stay in it until we reached a small clearing. “The business at the cliffs should slow them down. They’ll need to cast round for a new track.” Bernard shook his head. “Mayhap not much. When the Huntmaster senses a trick at the cliffs, he will have his men cast around. When they find the burn, and the dogs find no fresh trail, he will know for sure we journey upstream, since down would lead to the cliffs.” Jamie laughed. “Our next traps should slow them.” “Don’t try to hide our tracks for the next part,” Mike said, leading off along a narrow track rarely more than one person wide with dense thorn and bramble growth on each side. The tree branches from each side tangled overhead making the trail almost a tunnel in places. 242

HUGH McCRACKEN When we cleared away the bridge we had built across a pit and replaced it with light branches, leaves, and dirt, Bernard laughed. “How deep is it?” “About Pete’s height,” Jamie said. “There are thorn and bramble branches at the bottom. We have two more. At least one should have water in it by now.” “Can’t we wait to see the fun when they walk into one?” Davey said, but at Mike’s scowl, held up both hands palms towards Mike. “Okay, Okay. This is serious. We don’t have time.” After our third pit, we had a net rigged to saplings on either side of the trail, but hidden under leaves and dirt. Anyone tramping on the trip rope would free the saplings and hoist the net into the air. At the same time, a shower of stones would be released, making it look as if we were there to throw them. After the rope trap, we stopped for a while in a clearing. Bernard scratched his head, tugged at the lobe of his remaining ear, cleared his throat twice, then said, “Master Michael, I don’t question but that you have planned well and carefully, but I know the Huntmaster. After, mayhap, even the first trap he would send out scouts on either side. With us stopping at the other traps, these scouts could well be ahead of us — waiting in ambush.” Mike frowned. “I should have thought of that. I should, but I didn’t.” “Well, Mr. Leader.” Davey sneered. “What now?” “Wait a minute,” I said. “Bernard, if the Huntmaster sent scouts out to both sides they won’t find any tracks there. They could blunder about for ages casting round 243

RULES OF THE HUNT for tracks and getting nowhere in thick bush. There’s no way of knowing they could be ahead of us. It would be very slow going off the trail in the brush.” Bernard looked down at his feet and scratched his head again. “Master Peter, what you say is true, but the Huntmaster is cunning. He would have some men try to move in the bush in the same general direction as the path so they would avoid traps. They would for sure be slow, slower than us, but we have stopped three times since the first pit ...” I looked at the bush around our clearing. “Wouldn’t we have heard them? It’s not easy moving quietly in the deep wood cutting your way through undergrowth.” Jamie coughed. “I did hear movement in the wood at our last stop ...” “Why didn’t you say?” Mike scowled. “I told Davey. He said not to bother; it must have been some forest animal.” Mike glared at Davey who grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “Right,” I said, “let’s assume what Jamie heard was some of the Huntmaster’s men. We were all talking, so if we heard them, they must have heard us. Why didn’t they try to take us? Bernard?” Bernard shrugged. “Master Jamie, when did you hear the noise? When we stopped at the net trap? While we stayed there? When we were leaving?” “Just as we were leaving.” “So, mayhap, they were only catching up on us. We would be on our way before they could clear the wood ...” “And so they’re still behind us.” Mike said. “We 244

HUGH McCRACKEN would move faster on the trail than they could in the wood. Which side of us did the sound come from, Jamie?” “Our left as we move forward.” Mike frowned, and chewed at his lower lip. “It’s a risk, but here’s what we do. If Jamie heard them, they can’t be all that far off the trail. So, we’ll go off the trail to our left, take a tree each in a line, and wait. We wait till were sure how many there are —” “Three, four at most, Master Michael,” Bernard said. “Good, let them past, then jump them.” “Use the crossbows,” I said, “but don’t kill them.” Davey snorted. “Why not? They’re after us.” “Our fight is with the Duke. These men are Islanders just following orders. Remember the Offislanders are forming a cordon guarding the grove.” Davey sighed and shook his head. “OK, Andrew did say you were the boss. I hope you’re right.” As in our game of Hunt, we found a section where the brush wasn’t so thick and moved silently into the wood to form a line. We didn’t have long to wait. Two huntsmen forced their way through the undergrowth between Bernard and me. A third only slightly behind them moved between Bernard and Mike. I gave the signal. Mike and I both fired our crossbows. Two men fell with crossbow quarrels in their upper thighs. The third, startled, turned only to be felled by a jab to the midriff from Bernard’s quarterstaff followed by a crack across the back of his head. One of the wounded men started to shout and Bernard silenced him with his quarterstaff. Bernard 245

RULES OF THE HUNT turned to the other. “The Masters of Möbius won’t kill you if you stay quiet.” The man nodded. We dragged all three into the clearing. The crossbow quarrel heads had passed through the men’s legs. Since the quarrels we had used were smooth tipped Bernard simply gripped the protruding ends of the arrows and pulled the arrows back out. “They’ll live,” he said. “Men have fought on for hours with worse. ’Tis best to let the wounds bleed lest an ill humour be trapped inside.” Mike looked at both men. “I don’t think anything serious got hit. Just flesh wounds. They should be all right. Jamie do you have enough rope left to tie them to a tree?” Jamie grinned and nodded. We left the three of them, gagged with rags torn from their shirts, tied to a tree in the clearing as we moved on. “Where now, Mike?” I said. But before he could answer, Bernard cleared his throat noisily. “You have a suggestion, Bernard?” I said. “It is not for me to say, but ...” “Spit it out, Bernard,” Mike said. ‘If you’ve got a good idea let’s hear it.” “There is a loch not far ahead. From the North end of it you would be no more than mayhap two hours hard march to the grove. You want to be there by dark, do you not?” “Yes,” I said. “It’s our best chance to cross over, I think. But we’ll be at the South end of the loch. Do you 246

HUGH McCRACKEN mean we should follow its shoreline?” “No, Master. Most of the South-East shore is bog and where it’s not, it’s dense wood difficult to travel. There is a hamlet at the South end. We can take a boat from there and row up the loch much faster than anyone could possibly follow us on shore.” I looked at Mike. He nodded. “It’s worth a try. This track, if I remember right, cuts across the track from the town to the hamlet you mentioned. Right. Let’s move, as fast as we can.” The trails did intersect and we turned away from the direction to the town.

247

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“We should see the loch over this rise.” Bernard sounded cheerful. He strode forward then stopped so abruptly that Mike bumped into him. “Down, there are some of the Duke’s men on the shore beside the boat.” “How many?” Mike said. “Three. I see three. They have someone bound beside the boat. He must be one of the hunted.” “So we have Duke’s men between us and the boat, and the Duke and Huntmaster coming up fast behind ...” I said. “We’re the meat in the sandwich. Great.” Davey made a face. We had all crawled forward to lie on our stomachs and peer at the men on the beach. Quite clearly, we heard one man say, “we should have some sport with this one.” He prodded their captive with his spear. “His Lordship won’t mind if he’s a little bloody. No one else will be coming this way before nightfall.” “Can you hit them for sure from here with your crossbows?” Bernard asked. “Yes ... but I’d rather we were a bit closer,” Mike said. “The brush grows down to within ten feet of them over there.” I pointed left. “If we crawl through the 248

HUGH McCRACKEN undergrowth we would have a clear shot. We’ve got to get them out of the way if we want the boat.” We moved slowly and carefully to a spot in the brush directly opposite the men on the shore. “Mike, you take the man on the left,” I whispered. “Davey, the man on the far right. I’ll take the middle. On three.” Mike and Davey nodded. “One ... two ... three.” The three crossbow quarrels sang through the air. Two men stumbled back before falling. One dropped where he stood. We rushed forward, Bernard ready with his quarterstaff to floor anyone who seemed about to fight. Davey’s man was dead. The other two were wounded, but conscious. “The Masters of Möbius, we saw you with the Duke at The Hunt Feast yesterday,” one stammered. “We yield to you.” “Davey, I said I wanted no killing if we could avoid it.” Davey shrugged, unruffled by my anger. “Mine was the one who was going to torture the prisoner.” I turned. The prisoner’s arms were bound and he was gagged. A thick rope held some rags stuffed into his mouth. He looked terrified, I thought. Why would he be frightened of us? His eyes wide, he nodded his head and obviously tried to speak. Was he trying to warn us? At a shout and a scream behind us we all swung round. Too late for Jamie. He fell, a gash on his right thigh, pushed aside by a fourth man brandishing a sword. The tableau held for only seconds before Bernard, with a roar, charged. 249

RULES OF THE HUNT His quarterstaff deflected the first blow from the sword. The man got no chance for a second blow. Mike took a flying rugby tackle at his knees. I dived at the sword arm, and Davey leapt at his other side. We fell, a tangle of arms and legs. I felt, rather than saw, Bernard’s quarterstaff thud against the man’s skull, and he lay still. Jamie lay, deathly white. Bernard knelt beside him. “He’s alive, but with this wound he can’t go on with us ...” “We will tend the lad.” I jumped. Again, we hadn’t heard someone come up behind us. Two unarmed men stood looking at us. One moved to untie the prisoner while the other knelt beside Bernard to examine Jamie. Davey, in tears, knelt on the other side of Jamie. “Don’t die, Jamie, don’t die, please.” “We will take him to my house along the shore,” the villager beside Bernard said, after binding Jamie’s leg with strips torn from Jamie’s shirt. “We can hide him if other hunters come.” “No need to hide,” Bernard said. “He is not one of the hunted. The Duke will come here, but he will not harm him. Can you send word to the Abbot that the boy is here?” The villager nodded. The prisoner interrupted. “Thank ye, sirs. I was a dead ’un for sure. If you say the Duke will come ahint you I will go now.” He bowed to them and ran off to the bush. The two surviving hunters, fear plain on their faces, looked round the group. 250

HUGH McCRACKEN “These men will need their wounds tended,” I said and both gave a sigh of relief. One of them climbed to his feet. He bowed to me. “My Lord of Möbius, we thank you for sparing our lives, but they are forfeit to the Duke if he finds us thus.” He gestured at the two dead hunters. “With your permission we will leave now.” I nodded, but the villager said, “Come with me. We will draw the arrows and dress your wound before you go.” Bernard stepped forward. “We have need of your boat. If I do not come back to restore it to you, tell the Abbot it was taken by Bernard One Ear in the service of the Masters of Möbius. He will recompense for that and for your care of Jamie.” Davey, still in tears, knelt beside Jamie. He turned to me. “We can’t just leave Jamie here. It’s not right.” Jamie, recovered from his faint, said, “No, Davey. I would slow you down too much. Pete already said I was not to go to the grove with you. These folk will keep me till Bernard comes back for me.” He slumped in a faint once more. Davey opened his mouth to argue and protest again, but Bernard said, “we waste time. The Duke and the Huntmaster cannot now be far behind. If you stay, you die. Jamie will be safe with these good folk. They will care well for the grandson of Samuel the Shepherd.” Bernard looked the villager straight in the eye as he said the last sentence. The villager’s expression changed. He looked down at Jamie, a solemn expression on his face. “I swear by the Sacred Rowan we will do all we 251

RULES OF THE HUNT can.” “Now, Masters.” Bernard swung round. “Let’s push this boat into the loch and be on our way.”

252

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

We had only been afloat a short time when we heard in the distance the baying of hounds. Bernard had kept us close to the shore and we were hidden from anyone on the beach we had just left by a small heavily treed promontory. “If we had stayed much longer,” Mike said, “we’d have been caught.” “Will the Duke try to follow us on the loch?” I asked. Bernard laughed. “No, there are but a few houses in the hamlet and only this one boat. If His Lordship wants a boat, one will have to be dragged up here from the town.” “That would take forever,” Davey said, “but he could still follow us along the shore.” “No, as I told you, on this side of the loch between here and the North end the shore is boggy. There are no trails. Come, help me step this small mast and hoist a sail. We can make better time that way than rowing.” I wondered what the Duke would make of our escape on the boat. Would he think we would cross to the North-West shore? Surely not, since that would take us well away from any chance of getting to the grove by dark. No, he had to guess we would go to the Northern end of the loch from where we could make it to the grove. 253

RULES OF THE HUNT “Bernard,” I said, “the Duke knows we will try for the grove — that’s why he has the Offislanders forming a cordon round it. So to intercept us he will want to be on the main trail North from town to be between us and the grove. Can he get there, from where he is now, more quickly than we can?” Bernard laughed. “No, I think not. He will have to go all the way back to town to reach the main trail North and then almost the same distance again along that trail.” “Almost two sides of a triangle,” I said. “Good.” The sail was uneventful. I even dozed a little before Mike shook me. “Bernard says we should go ashore here. If we head more or less East, or just South of East, we should meet the main trial North and once we’re across that we can make the grove.” The spot Bernard had chosen had a gravel beach. We pulled the boat on shore and I looked round us. The sun was already beginning to sink in the West. If we had far to go, or if the forest was really dense, we weren’t going to make before dark. Luckily for us, although the area was forested, the brush wasn’t very thick and none of it seemed to be the thorn or bramble that made travel in other parts of the island so difficult. We made good time and close to sunset we came in sight of the main trail North. Warned by Jamie that the Offislanders were to cordon off the grove rather than beat for us, we moved very slowly and cautiously, approaching the trail from the West. 254

HUGH McCRACKEN The Offisland men-at-arms were stationed along the North trail in sight of each other. A sergeant stamped along the trail and we strained to hear what he said. “No sign yet. I think this Duke more than a little strange to worry about three halflings. At my signal, we pull back to yon rowan grove and circle it. Kill anything and anyone that moves into the grove without the word.” When the sergeant had moved on, Mike said, “we must be inside their line as they fall back on the grove.” “I will attract the attention of two guards,” Bernard said. “While they watch for me, you three must slip across.” “There’s a bend in the trail where three guards will form a crescent almost. If you distract them to look to the centre, then we might slip across at the horns,” Mike said. “We wait for the signal for them to fall back,” I said, “then if the guards on the other sides of the horns see anything they will simply assume it is a guard moving. Once inside, we can move more quickly and quietly to the grove than they can. We know our way, and we’re not afraid of this place in the dark.” Davey was tearful saying goodbye, and even Bernard wiped his eyes on his shirt as Davey and I made for one horn of the crescent and Mike made for the other. We were barely in position when the word, “Pull back,” came down the line from the North, passed from guard to guard. Bernard gave an animal call and moved the brush and shook a small tree. The centre guard and the flanking guards strained their eyes in the gloom. In that instant, Davey and Mike slipped over. The guard down the line hesitated, peered, then 255

RULES OF THE HUNT shrugged, and turned to bellow down the line, “Pull back,” and I was also across. We regrouped and moved silently towards the grove, very glad now of our night exercises in the wood and the grove. Concealed in one of our prepared hideouts in a thorn thicket short of the Grove, we waited. “Where’s your crossbow, Davey?” Mike said. “I gave it to Bernard. He might need it more now.” Davey gulped and brushed tears from brimming eyes. “That’s fine. If we can’t finish this tonight with the silver quarrels, it won’t matter anyway.” After the events of the day the inactivity now seemed endless. It was obvious the Duke was expected in the grove. Servants had lit a small fire and there were hampers of food in the grove. We were almost dozing when we heard a shouted challenge then the voice of the Huntmaster. “Make way for His Grace, Duke William.” The Duke, the Huntmaster and few huntsmen entered the grove. The Offisland sergeant stood before the Duke. “My Lord Duke, the grove and the area round it was searched in accordance with Your Grace’s orders. It was clear this afternoon and no one has passed us since. There is a full cordon round the grove. No man can enter without our knowing.” “Thank you, sergeant,” the Duke said, “but I am not sure we were expecting men. “Huntmaster, this has been both the best and the worst Hunt I can ever remember. God’s Blood, man. With an army half as skilled and cunning as those 256

HUGH McCRACKEN boys, I could take and hold this whole kingdom. “Enough. Do we have anything for fresh dogs to scent? If so, send for fresh dogs while we dine, and we will resume The Hunt.” “What of the other quarry, My Lord?” the Huntmaster said. “What of them? I would as lief chase rabbits now. Call The Hunt in to the grove. All others are free and pardoned. We must find those boys. Send for the fresh dogs.” The Huntmaster instructed servants, who moved out to the dark trail leading to town. They peered anxiously into the gloom outside the circles of light cast by the torches they carried. “My Lord Duke, partake of some sustenance now. See, the moon is come out from behind the clouds and is full and high in the sky. It must be close on midnight.” The huntsmen collected round one side of the clearing, and the Duke and his Huntmaster stood to one side of the small fire while the servants bustled to open the hampers. We three boys stepped into the full moonlight, across the Rowan grove from the Duke. Davey in his demon mask flanked by Mike and me, our crossbows preloaded and at the ready. “Not quite like spearing fish in a barrel, My Lord Duke, was it?” I said, and before anyone could react, Mike and I raised our bows and loosed the silver quarrels.

257

RULES OF THE HUNT

258

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

We turned to run for the safety of the brush, and promptly fell over. “What the heck is that doing there?” Mike shouted, nursing his shins. “It wasn’t behind us seconds ago. A wooden park bench …” “A wooden park bench,” we shouted in a chorus. “See how thin the wood is now,” Davey said. “Look at the orange glow in the sky. We’re back. We’re home.” We danced in a circle, then I felt an appalling pain in my chest, and the lights started to go out while the wood spun round. In the distance, I heard a voice say, “Now then, now then. What’s all this?” Davey’s voice even more distant now said, “Sergeant McIntyre, the police. Now we’re for it.”

I slowly opened my eyes and panicked slightly. Where was this? When was this? Where was Davey? My eyes focussed. I saw the bare painted walls of the dinky, little island hospital, and, wonderfully, Mike and Davey peering at me, unfamiliar now in green crew neck sweaters and short hair. 259

RULES OF THE HUNT “Pete, you’ve been out for three days,” Mike said, while Davey threw himself on me, speechless. “Quick, before the nurse comes in,” Mike said. “We don’t know what happened to Colin and Keith. We don’t remember anything at all. When McIntyre found us, we’d only gone into the wood. Got it?” I nodded, agreeing, but confused. Several days later, we were discharged. Apart from minor scrapes and contusions, and the curious scars on our backs, we were in excellent physical shape. No one in the hospital could shake us in our story that we knew nothing of what had happened in our year’s absence. It created a seven-day wonder on the island, but the one stringer for a national paper was on holiday. By the time he heard, it was yesterday’s news. Returned runaways rarely made headlines, especially days after the event. After one interview I heard the visiting psychologist who had examined us comment, “I don’t know what they’ve done or had done to them in this last year, but I’ll tell you this, I wouldn’t want to meet them as an enemy in a dark alley.” I moved in with Davey’s family to be with Davey, rather than back with my Aunt Ina, father’s sister, where I had been staying for the holiday. Davey’s mother broke the news to me that my parents had finally separated and agreed that I could stay on the island till matters were resolved with my parents. That’s why I was on the island for the summer in the first place, to give them breathing space. Two weeks after our return, we sat on the park bench in the grove. 260

HUGH McCRACKEN “There have been more excavations at the monastery, whilst we were away,” Mike said. “I asked Dad if he would drive us out. He has all the write-ups. He was the official photographer.” Driving to the monastery, Mike’s father said, “I thought the monastery was about played out as a site, but someone found a stone that had fallen face down long ago and had been covered. It was not too badly weathered at all. The stone talks of a Saint Keith the Cripple. He seems to have been Abbot at some time. We started excavating again near the stone and found a sub crypt. “There was a skeleton in the sub-crypt. Pathology says it was a man in his forties or early fifties. Both ankles, one knee, and one hip were crippled with arthritis. It was unlikely he could walk at all for some years before he died. He had a staff buried with him, like a bishop’s crook, really, with a curious symbol. A twisted circle like a Möbius loop, and an acronym no one has heard of before. They are still working on it — NFNSTF.” Davey and I looked at each other and together said, “No Funny Stuff,” and took the giggles. Mike’s father stiffened, scowled, and said, “Well, if you’re not interested!” and the remainder of the drive was in a chilly silence. Our interested and even reverent behaviour at the excavation restored us to his good graces. On our way back to town, Mike’s father said, “they’ve used some new sounding equipment at the castle ruins, and it seems there may be a sub crypt, or perhaps only a grave, under what they think was the 261

RULES OF THE HUNT chapel. They’ve never excavated there before. It’s solid rock all round and they thought it was solid there too. If you’re really interested, I can get you in tomorrow, when they open it. I’m doing the photography.” We had a good view when the workers took the strain on the ropes and the stone slab tilted. It seemed to me it took forever before the slab was moved to one side and the grave exposed. Mike’s father photographed furiously. Whatever had been wrapped round the body crumbled to dust and fell through the bones when the air hit it. One archaeologist knelt beside the grave. “This is interesting. There’s a neat hole through the breast bone, and what seems to be an arrowhead in the rib cavity. The same circlet we found in the other site is sitting exactly centred over the hole in the breast-bone. It could be an arrow went through them both, and the arrow has now gone to dust. “Quick, someone catch that boy before he falls in and contaminates the site.” Davey, Mike, and I sat in disgrace on a public bench in the castle grounds. Davey put an arm round me. “It was more fun back there wasn’t it?” he said. “We’ve got to back to school, and sit at a desk all day,” Mike said. “Robert was teaching me to be a smith.” God, I wish Margaret was here. I haven’t seen anyone to touch her since we got back. It’s so noisy and smelly here and everyone rushes everywhere, but without any real purpose. 262

HUGH McCRACKEN “Would we go back, if we could?” I wondered aloud. “Yes,” they both said at once. “Can you take us home, Pete?” Davey said. “Everyone here has got used to us not being here. I miss Jamie, and Keith, and Andrew, and Bernard.” I sighed. When we were there, The Rules seemed so simple: survive till The Hunt, then go home. But where or when was home?

THE END

263

BeWrite Books for a novel read A wide range of books to suit all tastes, in paperback and eBook formats. Action Adventure Anthologies Contemporary Crime Fantasy Gay

Historical Horror Humour Poetry Science Fiction Thriller Yong Adult And many more

Available directly from: www.bewrite.net