The Weirdstone of Brisingamen (16 page)

“Did you not hear the stromkarl say that no bird flies this day? Those are not rooks: you would be torn asunder within the minute. They know where Cadellin is as well as I, and that we must find him.”

“Then how shall we do this?”

“We must go stealthily, on foot, and seek him in the hills.”

Colin looked at the rolling mass of the Pennines, out of which the first shadows of night were creeping.

“But how do we find him up there, and how can we move without being seen? It's nearly all open moorland.”

“We move by day, when their eyes are weakest, and if there is scant cover for us, there is more chance that we shall see the morthbrood from afar. As for Cadellin, I am to meet him on the summit of Shuttlingslow yonder at dawn on the morning of the fourth day from this. There is little hope of finding him sooner. Our greatest task will be to avoid the morthbrood for so long.”

They headed for the farm with all speed, keeping under cover wherever possible, though the lanes were almost deserted at that time of day. Only the occasional farm-labourer cycling home disturbed their progress, for the dwarfs insisted on hiding at any sign of life. “The morthbrood travel in many guises,” said Durathror.

They came over the Riddings as the first stars were shining, and they saw Gowther's solid figure, Scamp at his heels, going the round of the shippons and stables to fasten up for the night. The individual, isolated sounds of twilight, the clink of a chain, the rattle of a door, the ring of boots on cobbles, carried far on the evening air.

Gowther was crossing to the house as the weary party entered the farmyard.

“Hallo!” he said, eyeing them up and down. “What have we got here? You look as if you've been through every marlpit between here and Wornish Nook! Hey, and wheer are your bikes?”

“It is a good story, farmer Mossock,” said Fenodyree, “but I would fain have a roof over my head for the telling of it.”

“What?” said Gowther. He peered hard at the dwarf. “Here, wait a minute: I know thee! You're the feller as threatened me some months back, anner you? Well, I've got a bone or two to pick with thee; and I'd like to know what mischief you've been getting these childer into!”

He loomed over the dwarf, and made to grab hold of him, but Widowmaker came from her scabbard like lightning, and the broad blade's point rested against Gowther's cask of a chest.

“I am he: and much sorrow has come of your words that day, though it is not of my doing.

“I mean you no harm, farmer Mossock, and I crave your help; but every moment we stand here exposed to watching eyes adds to our peril. Let us right our grievances behind locked doors.”

“You've
got
to trust him, Gowther!”

“You
must
!” cried Susan. “He's saved our lives more than once today!”

“And it is dangerous to be out here!”

“You'll understand when we tell you!”

Gowther looked at the anguished faces of the children, then down at the steady blade.

“All reet,” he said slowly. “You can come in. But you dunner move a step towards the door while you've got that thing in your
hond.
And think on, I want an explanation; and it had best be good!”

Fenodyree sheathed his sword, and smiled.

“It will be
interesting,
farmer Mossock.”

“Well! This is the rummest do
I've
come across! It is that! What about thee, Bess?”

Bess was ironing Fenodyree's rapidly washed tunic, and she pointed with her flat-iron at the two dwarfs, who were squatting on either side of the hearth wrapped in blankets.

“Theer's little use in saying pigs conner fly, when you see them catching swallows! But I dunner like the sound of it at all.

“And you say as you've to get our Bridestone to the top of Shuttlingslow by Friday morning? Well, that wunner be difficult. You two con stay here, if you've a mind to, and catch a bus from Macclesfield to Wildboarclough, and then all
you'll have to do is climb up the hill and meet your wizard.”

“We must take no chances,” said Fenodyree. “That would be a dangerous course; we shall go on foot.”

“Well, I don't see it, myself,” sniffed Bess.

“When do we start?” asked Susan.

“At dawn tomorrow. We dare not stay long in any place.”

“‘We'?” said Bess. “Oh, no! If you think you're dragging these two childer off on your madcap errands you con think again!”

“Oh, but
Bess
…!!”

“Ay, it's all very well saying ‘but Bess'! What would your mother do if she knew of these goings on? She's enough to worry about as it is. And look at the state you were in this evening! You conner run risks like that and get away with it every time.”

“Mistress Mossock,” said Durathror, “the Stonemaiden and her brother are children, but they have warriors' hearts: they deserve well of this quest.”

“That's as may be. But what should we say to their parents if they went out of here in the morning, and never came back? We're responsible for them, tha knows.”

“If Colin and Susan do not see this through to the end in the company of those best fitted to help them,” said Fenodyree, “their chances of ever setting eyes on parents or home again will be less than little. They have thwarted evil
this day, and it will be a pledge of honour for witch and svart alike to make good that wrong. It would be madness to leave them unprotected here.”

“Ay, I follow your meaning – if all we've heard is true,” said Gowther. “Yon's a good point. But we're still responsible, choose how you look at it.” He stood up to knock his pipe out against the bars of the grate. “I'll be coming with you in the morning.”

As soon as the dwarfs were dressed, they wrapped themselves in their blankets and said they would sleep for a couple of hours, but they were to be woken immediately at the least hint of trouble. They had already seen to it that everybody's bedding had been brought down into the kitchen, for they insisted that they should all stay in the one room that night, with ample supplies of food, light, and fuel.

At nine o'clock Durathror awoke and said he was going outside to see how the land lay.

He stole across the farmyard and up the hill to the top of the Riddings. The light north-easter that had been blowing for many days had veered to the north, and was much stronger. The full moon was rising in a clear sky; clear, except for the north. There, banks of cloud were piling on the horizon, and Durathror frowned. He sniffed the air, and looked warily all about him.

“Wind's getting up a bit, inner it?” said Gowther when the dwarf returned.

“Ay: it is not a good wind: I have doubts.”

Colin and Susan had dropped off to sleep very early, and by eleven o'clock Gowther and Bess were nodding in their chairs.

Shortly before midnight Scamp began to growl. It started as a distant rumble deep in his chest, and grew to a hard-throated snarl. His lips curled and his hackles rose. Durathror and Fenodyree quietly drew their swords and took up stations either side of the door. Scamp barked, but Gowther hushed him and sent him under the table; yet still he whined, and growled, and rolled his eyes. All ears were straining to catch the least sound, but no sound came.

“Happen it's a fox,” whispered Gowther.

Fenodyree shook his head.

“Something is coming: I can feel it.”

“Mossock!” said a voice just outside the door. “Mossock, are you there?”

“It is the Place woman,” whispered Durathror to Gowther.

“Ay, I'm here. What do you want?”

“You know what we want. Hand over to us the children, the dwarfs – and the stone, and you shall go unharmed.”

“And supposing I tell thee to go and jump in the Boffin, what then?”

“Do not play the fool with us, Mossock. You have a minute in which to open this door before we break it, and you. Your house will fall, and weeds will grow on this land for a hundred years. Hurry! We are not usually so indulgent. Do not ask for trouble.”

“Pay no heed: she is bluffing,” said Fenodyree. “They cannot pass over a threshold unasked. It is an old binding spell stronger than any they can weave.”

“Oh? Reet! Did you hear that, Mrs Place? Well, to make it quite clear how we stond, here it is, straight and simple.
You conner come in
!”

There was a moment's silence before the Morrigan spoke again, and now her voice was soft, and more menacing than before.

“We did not expect it to be so easy. But do not deceive yourselves by thinking that, because we cannot enter, you are safe. Wherever you are, and whatever you do, there is no escape, for we have called those to whom such spells are meaningless, and tomorrow night they will come to you. Listen, dwarfs! Can you not hear them? The mara are stirring. Soon they will be awake!”

A
long the crest of the Riddings the morthbrood watched Shape-shifter climb laboriously up from the farm. Grimnir sat a little apart from the brood, while over the top of the hill, in an old quarry, were mustered the svart-alfar.

“They are all there,” said the Morrigan. “And they will not be drawn, though we think the threat of the mara will bring them out once the night is gone. On the move, we shall have them; but we must raise the fimbulwinter at daybreak.

“Is Slinkveal here? Good. The svart-alfar will remain in the quarry until dawn. You will not be needed, but then again, you may.

“The watchers have been chosen, and know their duties. Grimnir will accompany us to resume our work.”

Durathror and Fenodyree kept watch by turns throughout the night, and at six o'clock they woke the others: by seven all were ready to go. Day was near, and there was a hard frost.

Colin, Susan, and Gowther were taking with them a change of clothing, food for the whole party, and
groundsheets. Fenodyree had made himself a cloak out of an old blanket.

They were about to shoulder their packs when there came a gentle knock at the door.

“Ay, who is it?” said Gowther.

“It's me, maister Mossock. Is owt up?”

“Oh, wait on a minute, Sam: I'll be reet with thee.”

Gowther waited until the dwarfs had hidden in the next room before he drew the bolts and unlocked the door.

“Theer! Come in, lad. I was hoping you'd be here before I went.”

“I saw the curtains were pulled to,” said Sam Harlbutt, “and the shippons were fast, so I thowt as how happen summat was wrong.”

“Oh no, theer's nowt wrong; but – er – I've been called away – er sudden like, and young Colin and Susan are coming with me. We should be back by Saturday. Con you manage by yourself? I'll get John Carter to give thee a hond, if you like.”

“Oh no, maister Mossock, I'll be all reet.”

He showed not the least surprise.

“But I'd best get on with the milking pretty sharpish, hadn't I? Dick Thornicroft'll be here with his wagon in half an hour.”

“Oh ay! Er – ay, you'd best do that now.”

Gowther felt Sam's unspoken criticism, but could think of no explanation to give him. It was their practice to share the milking, Gowther taking the morning, and Sam the evening. The cows ought to have been milked an hour ago, but Fenodyree would not let Gowther put his foot over the doorstep while it was still dark.

“Er – Sam, if Dick comes before you've finished, ask him to call when he's been to Barber's.”

“Right-ho, maister Mossock.”

“And Sam!”

“Ay?”

“When you've done milking, I'd like you to take Bess in the cart to her sister's at Big Tidnock: she'll be stopping theer while we come back. The dog'll be going, too.”

“Oh, right-ho, maister Mossock.”

Sam Harlbutt was as imperturbable as only a Cheshire man can be.

They waited until Sam was well into the milking before they slipped quietly out into the lane.

“Which way?” said Gowther.

“Let us first follow the road to the back of this hill,” said Durathror. “From there we may see much to interest us.”

The lane ran past the mouth of the quarry behind the Riddings, and Gowther was rather perplexed when
Durathror suggested beginning their journey with a scramble about inside.

“It's nobbut an owd sond-hole. We shanner get far running round here!”

“We shall not be long,” said the dwarf. “I want … ah! As I thought! Svarts were here in the night, but I do not think there was much else with them. Come with me now to the hilltop.”

He ran backwards and forwards along the Riddings like a hound beating for a scent.

“Nor was there aught worse than the morthbrood here. That is good. But yonder is what I do not like. Cousin Fenodyree, what make you of those clouds to the north? How is it they have not changed since I saw them under the moon? The wind should have carried them to us long ago.”

“Hm,” said the dwarf. “Fimbulwinter?”

“Ay. They do not mean to lose. First, they drive us out with the threat of the mara. We dare not bide. Next, they watch us through the day, and when we reach some lonely place, they pen us close under the fimbulwinter till night comes, and they can take us as they wish.”

“Wait on,” said Gowther; “what's all this ‘fimbulwinter' business? And you've not told us yet …”

“I know,” broke in Fenodyree. “But there are some things better left untold. It will be time enough to fear the mara
when we see them; and I hope we shall not do that. Meanwhile you will rest happier for your ignorance.”

“That makes me a
lot
easier, I must say!”

Fenodyree smiled, and inclined his head politely.

“You're a supercilious little feller when you want to be, anner you?” said Gowther testily. He was a direct, open man, who liked everything to be clearly defined. He could not tolerate haziness or uncertainty; and he had not quite overcome the countryman's natural distrust of strangers – such strangers, too!