Moon Chase - A Fellhounds of Thesk Story Read online

  Seth staggered back as if someone had punched him.

  ‘Oh, No… Giles? You mean Giles was taken by the wolves?.… Giles has become a Wraithe Wolf?’

  ‘Yes, Seth,’ said Mortimer patiently.

  ‘But how did it happen? He fought them before and won. He came back with you – to Saran. He was a hero?’ Seth whispered the last few words almost to himself. He stumbled over the slimy stones to the water’s edge and stared blankly out over the cold green mirror.

  Mortimer went after him and put his hand on the shocked boy’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry Seth, but this time he made a mistake. I don’t really know what happened but I tried to make him turn back – he just… he just wouldn’t listen.’

  ‘He never forgave Cae, you know – or Ellyn – to tell the truth, he made Cae’s life a misery,’ Seth confessed. He stared into the murky pool – lost and confused.

  Wil had heard enough.

  ‘Well, he had no right!’ he blurted out. ‘Giles Savidge was a nasty bully! He was also a liar!’

  ‘Wil – steady on now,’ said Mortimer.

  ‘No! He lied about how he got injured!’

  ‘Lied? What do you mean? I was there, Wil – I saw the wolf attacking him – Roberta Smith shot it – I saw it, Wil.’ Mortimer’s eyes were unblinking as he faced Wil who was now in full flow.

  ‘He wasn’t bitten – you didn’t see the wolf actually bite him, did you Mortimer? Giles had already been attacked by a Mountain Lion – the wolf was just licking his blood when you saw him!’

  ‘How do you know this Wil?’ Gisella asked suspiciously.

  He’d said too much. Rather too late he remembered Lady Élanor telling him that the people of Saran didn’t know about their powers – he was putting her and her sister in danger.

  ‘Well… I’m only guessing about the lion… obviously!’ he blustered. ‘But I don’t believe Giles was attacked by a Wraithe Wolf that time – if he had been he would have been transformed back then – he got attacked last night and turned into a wolf immediately didn’t he!’

  His three companions stood in shocked silence. Wil stomped back towards the fire and prodded the smouldering ashes then he called over his shoulder.

  ‘I think these fish are cooked!’

  They ate in silence. Each lost in their own thoughts they munched on the delicious salmon. When she had finished, Gisella, licking her fingers, went down to the water’s edge and splashed her hands into a shallow pool. Wil followed. A rainbow slick of salmon oil idled among the rocks and drifted away down stream.

  ‘Do you think I’m going to get out of this?’ he asked.

  ‘Out of what?’ Then, realising what Wil was asking, she said quickly, ‘Oh, sorry, you mean the trial. Sorry. To be honest Wil, I don’t know. If Seth believes you then that would go a long way to convincing the Order that you are innocent – you’ve certainly convinced Mortimer and me.’

  ‘But my shoulder – Giles’s father said that if I returned injured I would hang as that would prove my guilt.’

  She put her hand lightly on his arm and smiled at him.

  ‘Well then, we just won’t tell them you got injured, Wil.’

  With the meal finished, Mortimer started to get restless and insisted that they move off to find a place to make camp for the night. He wasn’t happy about them staying so close to Tel Harion as darkness closed around them again. Seth complained bitterly, claiming that he was too tired and hadn’t eaten enough. But Gisella and Wil were also keen to put some distance between them and the Wraithe Wolves and Seth found himself quickly out-voted.

  To their delight the afternoon sunshine had dried their wet things and Wil was glad to wrap his cloak around his shoulders again. The sun had well and truly dropped behind the cliffs by the time they kicked out the embers of their dwindling fire and the evening air was getting decidedly chilly.

  With the silk First Aid bag safely secured on his belt, Wil tucked the hunting knife back into his boot. Mortimer did a quick weapons check and tried to hide his concern when Gisella admitted that she had let go of most of her bolts when they had jumped to safety - between them, miraculously, they still had two crossbows but only four bolts.

  ‘Don’t forget – we’ve got Farrow!’ Seth chirped optimistically. She’s worth a hundred bolts in a fight!’

  ‘I know,’ said Wil quietly. Gisella smiled, but a shadow of sorrow crossed over Mortimer’s face.

  ‘So, where do you think we should be heading, Mortimer,’ she asked quickly, her voice overly bright as she tried to distract the Fellman from brooding over his tragic loss.

  He heaved an enormous sigh and looked up to the ledge where they had jumped.

  ‘I don’t think we should be trying to get back up to Skelmer Hollow – even if Tarek’s body is still up there’ he said bitterly, but then added more decisively, ‘No, we’ve survived Dead Man’s Beck so far, so I think we should follow the river down-stream. From this side it’ll take us to Nell’s Drop – sorry Wil, more heights, I’m afraid – and out on to Droon Lake, if need be! But it’s better than getting wet again crossing the river, and I think we need to get as far away from Tel Harion as we can before we go back up onto the Fells.’

  It was dark before they found a suitable place to spend the night - a grassy glade that was bordered on one side by fast flowing rapids and on the other by a sheer cliff that seemed to go up forever. Mortimer examined every inch of the cover provided by the thick trees before he was satisfied – yes, they were thick enough to afford a degree of shelter if it rained and dense enough to keep out any optimistic Eagards that might be tempted to try their luck in the darkness.

  Everyone else seemed happy with the site, too, so Mortimer sent Seth, Farrow and Gisella off to see what they could catch for supper while he and Wil set about gathering wood for another fire.

  Their pile of sticks and dried autumn leaves was crackling nicely by the time Farrow bounded out of the trees, followed closely by Seth and Gisella who were looking decidedly pleased with themselves.

  Seth proudly presented a large rabbit.

  ‘It’s only got a few teeth marks!’ he said and proudly handed the floppy body to Wil while he patted Farrow’s flank. Wil was sharpening his knife on a round flat stone that, he and Mortimer had already decided, would make an excellent gutting table.

  Gisella wasn’t empty-handed either. She had two fat grouse dangling from two crossbow bolts slung over her shoulder. She flopped them down onto Wil’s makeshift table and pulled out the bolts, examining the tips carefully.

  ‘Two shots for two birds, not bad hey! And I get the bolts back!’

  She wandered off looking very pleased with herself and wiped the bolts in her cloak.

  Wil skinned, plucked and gutted busily. Mortimer stoked the fire and sharpened three stakes ready to hang the meat over the fire. In the meantime, Gisella and Seth cleared the area ready for them all to bed-down for the night.

  It was good to be doing something so constructive after the trauma of the Moon Chase. The long wait for the wolves had been nerve-racking enough for Wil, but when they had finally arrived… he shuddered - try as he might he just couldn’t get the noise of their howling out of his brain.

  ‘Are you going to take all night with those, Wil?’ Mortimer asked, jolting him out of his thoughts. ‘I know grouse can be a bit fiddly but we want to eat them, not make them into some sort of new art form!’

  ‘A few feathers won’t kill us, Wil! And anyway, we can always pull any stragglers off once they’re cooked,’ added Gisella with a laugh.

  ‘I don’t know if I like grouse,’ said Seth, wrinkling his nose as he scanned Wil’s handiwork.

  ‘I’m sure if you’re hungry enough you will, lad,’ said Mortimer darkly. ‘But if you really don’t like it – well, there’s all the more for us then!’

  Some time later bones, stripped-clean, lay discarded in and around the fire.

  ‘Gosh, Mortimer, that really was lovely – where did you learn to co
ok like that?’ asked Gisella, gnawing on one last bone.

  ‘I just watch my mother at home. Sometimes she lets me cook, too. Ever since I joined the hunt, she’s always encouraged me – I think she worries that I might not be able to fend for myself when I’m out here!’ he said, grinning as he talked. He was lying stretched-out on his side, propped up on one elbow watching the glowing branches in the fire.

  ‘My mother would never let me cook,’ said Seth. ‘She’s convinced I might burn myself, or not cook something properly and get ill.’

  No one commented and for a long time all four said nothing at all. They were exhausted and with full stomachs and a warm fire fatigue was getting the better of them. After a while Mortimer spoke quietly in the darkness.

  ‘So how did you find us Seth? Last night, I mean. How did you know we were in Skelmer Hollow?’

  ‘The map – there was a map in the dirt,’ he answered, throwing his last bone towards the fire – it missed. ‘I found the camp by the smoke from your fire but by the time I got there you’d all gone. The ashes were still warm so I knew you weren’t far away and then I saw the map. I knew it was Skelmer because Dead Man’s Beck was marked with the shape of a skull – pretty cool, I thought!’

  Gisella looked at Wil, but neither of them said anything.

  ‘But if we’d only just left, why did it take you so long to find us?’ quizzed Mortimer.

  ‘Er… well, it was only then that I realised I’d left Saran in such a hurry that I’d forgotten to bring any bolts, so I had a hunt around to see if any of you lot had left any, and then I…er… I fell off Roani and broke my crossbow… actually I really hurt myself – look!’

  Seth got to his knees and pulled up his shirt. He did indeed have a nasty black bruise over his ribs.

  ‘How did you fall off your horse?’ Gisella asked Seth– Wil could see that she was trying not to laugh. ‘I thought you were training to be a Chaser? Isn’t being able to stay on a horse a fairly important part of that job?’

  ‘Well, yes, of course it is!’ Seth answered. He threw a glance towards Mortimer for support, but got none. ‘But Roani jumped over a stream that I didn’t see because I was trying to keep my bow over my shoulder – it slipped, you see,’

  ‘But I thought that Chasers didn’t carry cross bows – I thought they were the one’s with the spears and the Fellhounds?’ asked Wil – he was enjoying watching Seth squirm.

  ‘Well… yes, I know, but I’m quite good with a crossbow and Farrow is still only learning, so I thought I’d bring it instead of my spear – you know – just in case. And anyway,’ he added looking desperate. ‘I didn’t know if you’d want me up on the Fell – so I thought I could help the Bearers!’ Mortimer remained stubbornly silent and grinned.

  ‘Well, you certainly were hedging your bets there then, Seth Tanner,’ Gisella grinned and pulled her cloak up around her neck.

  ‘It’s just a shame you didn’t remember your brain at the same time,’ cut in Mortimer – his sense of humour had suddenly evaporated. ‘If you had, Tarek might still be alive!’

  The fire crackled and popped as silence once more enveloped the camp. Mortimer picked up bits of twig and threw them aggressively into the flames. Wil patted Farrow’s shoulder as she lay sleeping – sprawled out like some great mottled rug. It was quite a while before Seth risked speaking again.

  ‘I really am truly sorry about Tarek, Mortimer. I just had to come. My father so desperately wants me to be a great Chaser like you and what with everyone being so convinced that Wil was guilty – I just thought I could come up and make my mark – you know, help to prove everyone right and prove to my father that I can really do it.’

  Mortimer got to his feet.

  ‘And what about you, Seth – what did you want to prove to yourself?’

  He didn’t wait for the boy to answer – he just turned and melted away into the darkness towards the river.

  Despite the discomfort of lying on damp pine needles, the party slept soundly until long past dawn. When Wil did finally open his eyes he could see Farrow under the trees in the distance. She was tucking into something. Seth was stood nearby watching her eat.

  Wil lay huddled in Old Barrowman’s cloak. He could feel his shoulder tingling. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling at all, but it reminded him that even if they did get back to Saran safely, he still had to face the Order – or at least Godwyn Savidge, Oswald Beck and Fermina Fairfax! He was pretty sure that Gisella would do her best to persuade her mother of his innocence, based on his performance both during the Moon Chase - and since - but with Giles gone – he did not hold out much hope for the other two. As he lay there worrying, Gisella and Mortimer started to debate possible routes home.

  ‘No, if we go that way we’ll have to cross Hurst Fell and somehow get down Nell’s Drop and Esk Falls – that’s one heck of a climb, Gizzy – how on earth would we get Farrow down?’ Mortimer was saying. He had drawn another one of his maps in the ground and was using the point of a bolt to mark his preferred path.

  ‘Well, if we are in Brom’s Lair – we could head inland along the edge of Hurst and then on to the Downs – Rockmoor, isn’t it?’

  ‘But then we’ll either have to get across the lake or go around and up through Delve Hollow – it would take us a week to get home!’

  ‘Let’s face it, Gisella, we’re on the wrong side of the river and I definitely do not fancy trying to tackle those rapids!’

  ‘You’re right, Mortimer – I think the only option we have is to go back up stream and try to find a place where we can all get safely across to Thesker Pyke and get back up on to the right side of fells from there.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Ambush

  Heading back the way they had walked only the night before was utterly disheartening for everyone, but for Wil it was even worse. Mortimer and Gisella had chosen that particular route because it was the quickest way home – the quickest way back to whatever terrible fate awaited him! Every time he thought about what lay in store the wound on his shoulder tingled – he wondered whether the cut on Gisella’s thigh was doing the same, or was it just something else to remind him that he might soon be hung as a murderer? He wanted to avoid removing his bandage at all costs – the label on the powder had said two days, but Wil felt that two weeks wouldn’t be long enough – it was a very bad gash!

  With an extremely heavy heart he trudged along, unable to muster up any of the others’ enthusiasm; he struggled even to raise a smile when Seth slipped off the bank and fell in the river – twice – or when Farrow caught a deer, which Mortimer expertly gutted, having decided that it would make a delicious meal for that evening. Everyone, apart from Wil, was desperate to get back to Saran.

  Eventually they rounded a bend and came to a short length of river where the water flowed slower and deeper, swirling serenely around huge boulders that looked like small islands dotted across from one bank to the other. They looked ominously green and slippery, but the river had conveniently worn all of them flat across their tops. Seth said that they looked like a giant’s stepping stones. After some debate Mortimer, Gisella and Seth decided that this was the best spot to cross the river - unless they wanted to walk all the way back up to the pool into which they had dropped from Skelmer Hollow the previous morning.

  ‘Right,’ said Mortimer rubbing his hands together in preparation. ‘I’ll take the supper and go first just to make sure that those rocks aren’t too slippery. Gisella, can you go last as you’re the strongest swimmer and we may need you if someone falls in? Seth, you bring Farrow and come after me. OK, Wil – after Seth.’

  He winked at them, swung the deer carcass easily across his shoulders and confidently jumped from rock to rock.

  ‘It’s OK as long as you keep the momentum going – they aren’t too bad,’ he called from about half way.

  In no time at all Mortimer jumped onto the opposite bank and stood waving across the river, then he cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted.
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  ‘OK, Seth. Now be careful as it really is very deep. So far today you’ve only managed to get wet up to your waist – try to keep it that way! Just keep going - once you’ve started you’ll be fine. Farrow’ll be able to swim across this, so don’t worry about her.’

  ‘If he makes it across I’ll eat my crossbow,’ Gisella muttered to Wil under her breath as they watched Seth totter over the enormous stepping stones.

  All three of them rushed to the water’s edge on both sides as he jumped onto a small rock right in the middle of the river and swayed perilously. Even Farrow barked encouragement and swam around the rocks where he stopped to take a breath.

  ‘Well, are you going to eat your bow as it is, or would you like Mortimer to serve it up nicely grilled, Miss Fairfax?’ Wil said watching Seth step successfully onto the last but one rock. But as he swung his leg back to make his final jump a huge salmon leapt out of the water right in front of him.

  Two splashes followed – one was the surprised salmon landing back into the river to continue is annual battle up-stream – the second was Seth.

  Gisella was across the rocks in a flash but, as she got to the one Seth had just tumbled off, Wil could see Mortimer laughing and pointing down stream. Farrow emerged from between two rocks – swimming for all she was worth, with Seth held firmly in her teeth by the seat of his pants. He was splashing frantically to keep his head out of the water. Within seconds Farrow dragged him out onto the bank where she rather unceremoniously dropped him and then wandered off, shaking herself from the tip of her nose to the end of her tail.

  Gisella squatted low on the rock and hooted with laughter. Even Wil managed to raise a smile. Poor Seth dripped his way back along the opposite side of the river towards Mortimer.

  By the time Wil joined them on the opposite bank Seth had managed to see the funny side. First he theatrically emptied his water-logged boots and then he took off his cloak and shirt, both of which he did his best to ring out. Then, stripped to the waist, he ran around trailing his shirt behind him in an effort to dry it a bit before putting it back on.