As it went the deer’s legs carried it gently back and forth like rushes on a pond. Now and then its hoofs would slip into a crevice, hidden below the deepening covering of vegetation, but the stag never once lost its footing. Its great body would compensate instinctively, like some huge yet graceful cat, so that it seemed almost to be a part of the landscape around it, inseparable from the contours which made up its home.

  All around the silence was deepening with the evening. The stillness was broken only by the distant cry of a goshawk glorying in the hunt, the lonely hallooing of a night owl or the cracking flurry of a pheasant as it broke cover and exploded into the gloom. But everyday sounds like these did not frighten such an experienced animal. The stag’s body might brace to deflect the sudden violence of the noise, but it went on feeding. A hind or a young buck might have been unnerved by these sounds. But not a beast that had spent so many years in the Corps. Not the veteran of countless battles. Not a deer whose sight, smell and sense had taken him so quickly up the ranks of the herd. Not Brechin, Captain of the Outriders.

  Brechin had reached a rocky hillock, purple with vegetation, and he was just settling in to enjoy a thick sprig of gorse when he suddenly threw up his head again. Now his eyes shone with recognition at the scent he had just caught again. But this time Brechin snorted and stamped the ground angrily. He dropped his antlers, then, aiming his head towards the north-west corner of the wood, he raced off along the edge of the valley, tossing his head as he ran. As he neared the wood he began to swing his antlers right and left in a great arc and then, abruptly, no more than three branches’ length from the trees, he crashed to a halt and stamped the earth.

  ‘So,’ he shouted furiously. ‘Now Herla spy on Herla?’ Brechin had used the deer’s name for their own kind, but it brought no response. From far away the cry of an eagle haunted the breeze but nothing stirred in the wood.

  ‘Come, I’m no green hind to be stalked like a rabbit,’ continued Brechin. Show yourself. I nosed you on the other side of the valley.’

  NOW READ ON at www.phoenixarkpress.com

  AUTHOR’S AFTERWORD: The Phoenix Tale

  The Terror Time Spies, like several other works at Phoenix Ark Press, is published by the author himself. The little company was created out of a disillusionment with much that goes on in the Media and Publishing today and dreamt up as ‘the Storyteller’s Publisher’, built by writers, for writers and artists.

  The Phoenix is of course the mythical bird that rises from the ashes, the Ark a protective emblem, both for animals and perhaps animal and fantasy storytellers too. It is a little cottage industry, but in that we hope to maintain something essential, in this world of frantic branding and massive bestseller-led competition, a real respect for the writer’s craft and a deep a love of story. I hope you will join the adventure and share in some of our creations but you can find us now at www.phoenixarkpress.com. It would be wonderful to have you come along. DCD 2012

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  For Adults

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  While all care has been taken to lay this out correctly, mistakes can only be rectified by notifying us at the blog – www. phoenixarkpress.com.

  This eBook edition published 2012, with a new afterword, by Phoenix Ark Press Limited, 75 Vanbrugh Court, London SE11 4NR, under the Wildcall Children's imprint.

  ISBN 978-1-90908-05-3

  Copyright © David Clement-Davies 2012

  Cover design by Julia Bulbuk and Sebastian Czuba and Guillotine sketch by Julia Bulbuk.

  The right of David Clement-Davies to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

 


 

  David Clement-Davies, The Terror Time Spies

 


 

 
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