Chapter Four Guthrunn
The dogs came forward snarling at the two children, their outstretched talons clattering and scraping at the cobbles of the road beneath their paws.
Step by step, Anna and Lar backed off towards the ford, their seax held out in front of them threatening to cut down any beast that came within reach. Meanwhile, the torrential downpour continued all around them, soaking the children to their skins and chilling them to the bone, so that they shivered in equal amounts from cold and fear, both thinking that the small blades would not keep the huge Barghests away for long.
They were right.
One of the dogs leapt at Lar. He jumped out of the way, slipped on the slick surface of the wet road and fell flat on his back, jarring his elbow as he hit the ground. His seax went spinning out of his hand and splashed into the swollen waters of the brook. Now defenceless, he faced the dog that had landed beside him and was leaning over him, jaws opening ready to bite.
Anna tried to move across to protect her brother, but a second hound latched onto the hem of her dress and tugged her away from Lar. Lashing out at the animal with her blade she nicked its ear. The hound yelped and released her, but a moment later it was coming on again. Over to her right Lar let out a shout of pain as jaws fastened around his arm.
Suddenly, with an ear-shattering bang, a flash of bright light seemed to burst from just above Anna’s head. The light hung there like a miniature sun, growing larger, brighter and more intense. As one, the dogs lifted their heads and howled a loud, doleful cry, full of pain and fear. Then they turned and scampered away, vanishing into the darkness that surrounded the light.
Peering after them, Anna noticed something else: the rain, which until now had been unending, stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The light started to fade and as it did, above them the clouds scattered and the star-strewn night sky came into view.
Anna staggered over to where Lar still lay on the ground and tugged him up by his good arm, observing that his other arm was welling with blood where he had been bitten. Lar was not bothering about his wound, though. Once on his feet he was looking all around in amazement to see that the storm and the dogs had both vanished as if they had never been. “What happened?” he gasped. “Where did they go?”
No one answered: all were just as amazed as he.
“Did you cause that light to appear, Wilburh?” Anna called. Re-sheathing her seax, she checked that the horn was still tucked safely through her belt then steered Lar across the ford.
Wilburh, who was still supporting Ellette - the pair having reached the other side of the stream - shook his head. “It was nothing to do with me, but it was powerful magic, I can tell you that. The light and that horn: both powerful magic. Maybe we should throw it away...” he suggested, but before they could discuss that idea Lar winced and some blood dripped from his wound onto the road.
“Come here, Lar,” Hild said and led the boy to the stream, washing the wound in the cool, clear waters. She then rooted around the edge of the brook and found some sphagnum moss, pressing it to Lar’s arm. “Hold it there. I will dress the wound with a salve when we are back in my hut, come on.”
The children hurried along the path to the village. As they passed between the houses Anna looked back at the ford. For a moment she saw nothing. Then she spotted movement beside the road on the far side of the brook.
A figure stepped out into the moonlight and turned to look towards the village. At first, Anna thought it was a child or a small woman, but then she saw a beard on the figure’s face and realised it was a man: a short man with a long, silvery beard. She could just make out his bushy eyebrows and what looked like a collection of warts on his face to make even ugly old Grandma Sunniva, the oldest woman she knew, seem beautiful.
The man stared towards the village, and with a sudden chill that passed up her spine and lifted the hairs on the back of her neck, Anna realised he was in fact looking directly at her. He took a few more steps out of the wood and pointed at her, so now she knew she was right: he was looking at her! Then he beckoned, gesturing to Anna that she should join him.
“Anna! Where have you been? What happened to you and the other children? You are drenched!”
Brought up short by the sound of her father’s voice, Anna swung round. He was standing beside the healing women’s hut where she could see Lar having his wound dressed. Ellette, meanwhile, was being helped by Wilburh into the blacksmith’s, and by the sound of the scolding she was getting from her mother, Tate, the little girl was also being asked awkward questions.
“Er ... we were caught in the rain, Father,” Anna replied, deciding to keep it simple.
“Rain? What rain?”
Anna stared at him as if he were a madman. Only then did she realise that the ground inside the village was bone dry. How was that possible when just a few paces away they had been caught in a ferocious rainstorm? She felt the horn at her hip. Powerful magic, Wilburh had said. What was it? Was it magical? Did it really have power? If so what could it do? And why had it only sounded for her? She wanted to find out, but she did not wish her father or the other villagers to know about it until she had answers. Covering the horn with her hand so no one would see it, she inched it out of her belt and slid it into the sleeve of her dress, out of sight of prying eyes.
Her father was still waiting for an answer, his puzzled frown changing into an angry scowl. “Well, Lar won’t say anything either. So if you have both lost your tongues, maybe cleaning all the pots and pans after dinner tonight will help you find them,” he snapped. “Go get the meal ready and we will talk again tomorrow!”
Anna nodded and together with her brother she hastened across the village towards the headman’s hall. As she did so, she risked another glance back at the ford. The starlit road beyond the brook was in plain sight, but empty. Of hounds, rain and strange little men there was no sign.
Lar saw where she was looking and following her gaze frowned at her. “What are you looking at?” But Anna just shrugged in return and the two of them headed off to do their chores, Anna pushing the horn even further up her sleeve.
The following morning it did rain in the village and the children, along with the villagers, stayed indoors. They all busied themselves with indoor jobs, mending torn tunics, sorting through the stores of smoked meats and cheeses or sharpening knives and tools. Nerian again asked his children about the previous day, how they had got wet and how Lar had got bitten. Anna lied and said they had fallen in the brook when playing a game and Lar made up a story about being chased by a wild dog in the woods, which was almost true. Neither of them wanted to say they had been in the ruins and certainly they did not want to let on about the horn.
The midday meal in the village was the main one of the day and all the villagers came together into Nerian’s hall and drank ale or mead and ate the dish prepared by Udela, the cook. Today it was a trio of geese, which had been put into floured bags with herbs, milk and butter and boiled in a cauldron. Anna was expected to help and assisted in plucking the birds and cutting up the vegetables. Alongside the geese they had cooked beans, barley, turnips and leeks, each in their own little bag hanging down into the same cauldron. The goose meat was carved and served out with helpings of the boiled vegetables along with a sweet sauce made from plums and apples.
They all tucked into the meal, dabbing up the juices with bread, which had been cooked fresh that morning to accompany it. The food made Nerian mellow and as a result he permitted the children some time to themselves whilst he slept off the meal.
Once the rain had stopped, Anna led them out of the hut and into the orchard, where they each picked apples and munched them sitting on a fallen tree trunk.
“What have you done with the horn, Anna?” Lar asked. It was the first time they had been alone since returning to the village.
In answer she pulled it from out of the pouch she wore at her belt. The noon sun caught the gold, which glittered and glowed, lighting up Anna?
??s face as though she were sat in candlelight or in front of a fire.
They all stared at it for a while and then Lar asked a question. “Shall we sell it? It would be worth a fortune, a treasure like that.”
Wilburh sighed. “It is magical, surely you can see that after what happened ... after last night?”
Lar looked unconvinced. “What happened last night? It rained on us and some dogs attacked us and lucky for us the lightning frightened them away. That is all. Doesn’t mean the horn is magical all of a sudden. But it is made of gold and that means it is worth a lot.”
“Lar, really,” Wilburh frowned. “Why could only Anna blow it and the rest of us not? Surely you can see something odd was happening?”
“What’s odd?” Lar shrugged. “It’s an old horn we found in a ruined building. It was probably blocked with rubbish. We all had a blow and by the time Anna tried, it had got unplugged and made a sound, that’s all.”
“Are you really that stupid, Lar!” Wilburh sneered.
Leaping to his feet Lar approached the other boy. “Come here and say that again,” he said, fists bunched.
“Stop it!” Hild jumped up and got between the two boys. “Don’t fight please!”
They were distracted by Ellette, who had stood up and was hobbling past them, one ankle still strapped up. “Look! Who’s that?” she said, pointing into the village.
They all looked. Scenestane seemed just as quiet as it usually did during the midday meal and for an hour or so afterwards, whilst the villagers were all still finishing their food and planning the afternoon’s work. Despite this, the children could see that one figure was at large and walking around the hovels. It was no one they recognised and after watching for a moment, Anna was sure it was the same little man she had seen on the road the previous evening. The warty fellow was sneaking around the buildings, peering into the interiors and then, apparently disappointed, moving on to the next.