Snap by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

Author:Barbara Gaskell Denvil [Denvil, Barbara Gaskell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gaskell Publishing
Published: 2017-06-14T22:00:00+00:00

Over the horizon to where the cliffs rise white,

Lashtang valleys call to you,

The moors and boggy streams,

But this is nightmare, not delight.

The throne of Lashtang standing cold,

Is occupied as ever,

Its brilliance is forever bright,

But blinds you, binds you, all freedom sold.”

“That’s – sad,” mumbled Nathan. “So where is this place? And why do you sing of it?”.

“If you have to ask,” smiled the smith, “then you’ll never find it. ‘Tis those that know already, will find the land in their dreams. But you visit once, and you’ll never want to go back again.”

“Dreamworld? Only dreams? But the Hazlett twins are real. I’ve met them both and they weren’t dreams.”

Grandpa October frowned, looking back over his shoulder. “Ignorant boy. Don’t you know that all dreams are real?” Then he grinned suddenly. “Though, of course,” he added, “that depends on what you mean by real.”

It was John hurrying up with an armful of hay for Pimple that interrupted the conversation. “Gonna help me?” John asked.

Nathan reluctantly followed him, but as he looked back, he saw that the smith was standing still, gazing after him. “Fancy a balloon ride one day?” called the smith. “Oh yes, I know what they are. I’ll take you on a trip you’ll never forget.”

“That’s exactly what’s already happened. Nathan paused, frowning. “Could you take me to Lashtang?”

Cackling, the smith shook his head. “Fire and ice, lad. No one survives Lashtang.”

“What was you talking about?” enquired John, frowning. “Sounded mighty queer.”

Nathan thought a moment. “I need a knife,” he said. “That baron is dangerous, and after falling in the river, then he’ll hate me even more. I might have to protect myself.”

Grinning, John began laying down the hay for Pimple, adding a fat turnip to the top of the heap. “Too right,” he told Nathan. “You needs a good belt and a good knife to stick in it, and I reckon the rest of us could do wiv that too. Go back and tell that smith what we wants.”

“I will – tomorrow,” muttered Nathan.

At the Whistle and Wherry, Uncle Henry had walked to the inn’s stables with Alice, ordered the horse saddled, and had ridden off towards the Ludgate on his journey home to Hammersmith Village. Bending down to say goodbye, he assured her, “I shall be back, my dear, and will bring your Aunt Margaret with me next time. We need to finalise this business, and Lawyer Weeks wants us back in his chambers in three days from now. He thinks he’ll have good news by then.”

“I shall certainly come with you, uncle,” smiled Alice. “I shall look forward to it. You, uncle dear, and Lawyer Weeks are both so good to me. I feel so much better, almost as though I am back home already. Nothing can go wrong now.”

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