A Dusk of Demons by John Christopher

Author:John Christopher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin

7

HE WAS SQUAT, NOT MUCH taller than I was, but powerfully built: broad-chested, the arm that cradled the gun strongly muscled. He wore a leather jerkin over a coarse gray shirt whose sleeves were rolled high, and leather trousers and sandals. Arms and face were dark brown from exposure to sun, and wrinkled by age and weather. He had a wide, ugly face with dark, deep-set eyes and a splayed nose, and a scar ran from his right eye to the corner of his mouth. He had shaved, but not recently: A stubble of gray beard matched the loose strands that failed to cover his brown bald head. His mouth opened in a gappy smile, but the teeth remaining were strong and white.

“Now then, me darlins,” he said in a gravelly voice. “What’s wi’ ye?”

Neither of us replied. So close to their camp, he must be a gypsy. A dirty lot, Ralph had said: thieves, maybe still infected with the Madness. According to the country people, they could lay spells. Steer clear of them, Ralph had warned.

There was also the gun. It wasn’t like the guns Pengelly’s soldiers carried; it seemed older, and was double-barreled. His right hand held it just beneath the trigger guard, and the barrels caught a flash of sunlight.

“It were pigeon I were after,” he went on, “but I had an eye to the road. What I seed there was two young ’uns riding the one pony, and early in the day to be so far from a sassenach dwelling. Then comes a dozen or more riders, goin’ lickety-split. And now I finds the same two young ’uns runnin’ hard through the brush.”

He fixed a half-closed eye on us. “What did ye do with the horse? Set him loose? He looked a beast worth keeping, except they’d run ye down quick if ye stayed with him. Ye’re in trouble, I’d say.”

“We’re all right,” Paddy said. The calmness of her voice impressed me. “We don’t need help, thank you.”

He made no immediate reply—in fact looked away, cocking his head as though listening. All I could hear was a blackbird, and the coo of a pigeon. He had said he’d come out after pigeon. “They’ve struck back,” he said, after a moment. “They’re off the road and beating this way. Four of ’em, at least. Even without one of ye bein’ lame, they’d ketch ye within a half hour. As it is, five minutes.”

He spoke with flat certainty. Paddy’s eyes met mine. If we were caught, nothing too bad was likely to happen, but Paddy would certainly be sent on to join the others, and I would be kept at the villa, probably under guard. I wouldn’t be given a second chance to walk away.

“Hearken,” the gypsy said.

Now I could hear it: distant feet, trampling through undergrowth. Paddy bit her lip and nodded.

“Can you hide us?” I asked.

He shook his ugly head. “Not here. Not nowhere in the woods. They’d be bound to hit on ye, sooner or later.

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