Percywas trying to understand what he'd just heard. Could he really seeRowena and speak with her again? Or was this merely a strange trick hisbefuddled mind was playing on him? What had happened to the ever-present voiceof Og?
Gettingup off the cairn and brushing himself down, he took a deep breath of cool nightair, felt the patter of rain on his face, and followed Claude down Ogden Hill,away from Underwood and the church. At the bottom, he was greatly surprised tofind another of his old friends. Beauty stood by a stone wall, her wet blackcoat barely visible in the rainy night.
Percyjumped up onto the horse’s back.
Good! Now I will bring you to me!
Beautystamped her hooves, reared and sped off into the night, running faster thatPercy could believe. The horse made its way along a lane that wound throughfarmland and trees. Percy clung on desperately as the horse turned up sideroads and cut across dirt tracks. It was so dark even Percy had trouble seeingthe dark shape of stone walls and horseless carriages appearing suddenly, butBeauty had no trouble, seemed to know exactly where she was going. The horserode on for quite some time, never tiring. He passed a partially ruined castle,built on a hill to his right. This was Caern castle, an ancient and spookyplace. As a child his mother, Lady Jane, had told him it had seen many ablood-soaked murder in its time.
A flash of lightning illuminated thesky and for an instant Percy could see the low hills of Gimley Dale with the craggypeak of Tor Idris at its centre. Up ahead was a low valley nestling ascattering of ancient buildings. As thunder boomed across the sky Percy gaspedin disbelief. He was headed for that most mysterious of villages – Barleybrook!This was a place he had visited one mid-summer’s eve with the Etheric Club andhad had the fright of his life – ghosts of gargoyles in the chapel! In histime, it had been known as the lair of warlocks, the centre of all that wasoccult and pagan. Now here he was, on a cold and wet night, speeding to thismystifying place on a horse that magically knew where to go, and being followedby a dog that talked!
As they entered the village, Beautyslowed to a canter. Percy looked left and right, his eyes dripping with rain,at old houses either side. Most were tumbledown, with doors and windows rottedaway and roofs that were missing tiles with black beams exposed. A pale bluelight suddenly misted Percy’s eyes and confused him for a second. Now he couldsee wooden shutters where there had been black gaping holes in the brickworkand the broken-down roofs were now fully thatched. There appeared as if fromnowhere a sty surrounded by crooked fencing, containing three sleeping pigs.Percy shook his head and wondered if his was imagining things, but then he sawsomething up ahead that could only be described as a wondrous sight. The highand craggy summit of Tor Idris, dominating the skyline to the North of thevillage was also bathed in the same faint blue light. It danced and swirled withslow and infinitely varied movement and sprayed up convulsing arcs of lightthat lit the dark clouds in many beautiful but strange ways.
As Beauty turned up a cul-de-sac,lightening flash once more and Percy could see a tall crooked house where thestreet ended. As thunder boomed, Percy’s heart raced as he began to guess wherehe was going. He had been here once before with the Underwood Hunt when out torevenge Rowena’s cursing. As he slowed then stopped outside the house Beauty’shead fell and she began gasping for breath, trembling all over and sweatingprofusely. Percy hoped his dear horse hadn’t exhausted herself to fatality withher epic ride. He jumped down and looked at Claude, who gazed back at him andwhined mournfully, a normal dog again.
Percy climbed the stone steps to thefront door and gazed at the brass knocker. He was here now, cold, wet and verytired, so what else could he do but knock? As he did so the door swung open andthere stood a tall gaunt man in a black suit with pointed shoes and silvertopped walking stick. His hair was long and grey and the eyes had pronouncedcrow’s feet but Percy recognised him almost immediately. It was the warlock whohad cursed dear sweet Rowena over one hundred years ago – Victor Tainn!
“My dear Lord Percy, please come in.We have much to discuss.”
Percy noticed Victor’s voice wasslightly slurred and the left side of his mouth drooped as he spoke.
“You see my disfigurement,” saidVictor. “When you attacked me all those years ago, the brass figurine you threwat my head, well... it left its mark.”
“I remember the blood all over yourface. I can’t believe you’re still alive.”
“In a manner of speaking yes I am...to you.”
“You speak in riddles.” Percy shiveredas the rain beat down on him.
“Please come in my friend! We now areallies, we have a shared interest.”
“But... you cursed Rowena and ruin herlife, you ruined my life!”
“You can see Rowena. I have told youthis already. My dear chap calm down and come inside. Get out of those wet andmuddy rags – my wardrobe is at your disposal. You are still a member of theBarleybrook Etheric Club and I need you greatly. I have magnificent plans. Ogwill rise!” Victor stepped back, gripping his cane as he stumbled slightly onhis left leg.
Percy was about to protest butwondered where else he was going to go. He thought of the policemen, of hiscompanions who had all been taken away, and of dear sweet Rowena on theirwedding day.
He bowed his head graciously andstepped inside.
*
Ihope you have enjoyed the first book of The Bill Blackthorne Chronicles. Now goand read the second book in the series – Talons of Tainn!
Here’s a sneak peak at what’s instore…
The Queen of England hasbeen infested by a demonic curse and it’s up to Bill and his friends to savethe day… He is commanded by royal decree to rid the world of Arddhu
