The Quest of the Warrior Sheep by Christopher Russell

Author:Christopher Russell
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Egmont
Published: 2011-03-23T16:00:00+00:00

13

Tony’s Train Ride

Looking back through the window of the slowly moving train, Wills watched the three humans for a moment but then, as the train picked up speed, something else caught his eye. Sitting in a field beside the railway line was a strange blue object with long, blade-like things on top. And beside it were some different humans.

‘Look!’ cried Wills, ‘Isn’t that Tod and Ida – over there by the blue thing?’

The others crowded around the window, but the field was slipping quickly past now and they only got a glimpse.

‘Couldn’t have been, dear,’ said Sal. ‘We’re such a long way North now.’

‘No,’ agreed Wills. ‘No. I suppose not.’

There was an uncomfortable silence. It was the first time any of them had thought about Tod and Ida since the quest began. They suddenly felt guilty about that.

‘They’ll be sooo upset we’ve gone,’ said Jaycey.

The others agreed.

‘We will go back, won’t we?’ said Oxo. ‘I mean, when we’ve done the business with the Baaton, and Aries rules again and everything. We will go back to the farm?’

‘Of course, of course,’ promised Sal soothingly.

‘Good,’ said Oxo. ‘Only I do miss cauliflower night.’

The train moved on, gathering speed as it went, and the sheep turned their thoughts to where to settle for the next part of their journey.

Back in the field beside the railway, Tod and Ida stood next to the helicopter and stretched their legs. Far from being able to see for miles as Ida had hoped, they’d been able to see nothing at all from the air. It had finally got too dangerous to fly in the thick mist and the landing was even more hairy. They’d only just missed the railway as they came down. Lady Babcott got out and stood beside them.

‘Sorry we’ve been forced down,’ she said. ‘Still, this is Eatwell, where your sheep were filmed rescuing the little boy from the railway line. I guess they must be somewhere very close.’

‘Oh, we can’t thank you enough,’ said Gran, who was still bubbling with excitement after her helicopter ride. She tucked her arm into Lady Babcott’s and they all marched off into the mist.

‘Wills . . . Jaycey . . .’ Gran called. ‘Oxo, Links, Sal . . . Where are you?’

Tod followed, peering from side to side, wishing he had a torch to penetrate the mist. One of those head torches would be useful. He thought briefly of the men in Gran’s field and wondered if they’d found their mobile phone yet.

On the train, the Warriors had finally settled into the guard’s van. There was no food here but a bit more space for them to spread out. Sal couldn’t remember what verse of the Songs of the Fleece she had got up to, so was just about to begin from the beginning again when a voice made her jump.

‘Tickets, please!’

The ticket inspector was standing in the doorway, looking very grumpy. Unticketed livestock were a serious offence.

‘No ticket, no ride,’ he said. Then, when no one spoke: ‘All right, we’ll make an unscheduled stop and turf you all off.

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