Colin Meets an Emu by Merv Lambert Page B

money.”
    â€œWhat!” The merchant’s voice screamed with rage. “Who is he? He is a liar!”
    â€œA liar?” The owner of the mocking voice pretended to sound surprised. “A liar?” it repeated. “Are you saying that a man of the church is a liar? Come, sirrah, that is a vile and wicked accusation. He will not be pleased to hear of it.”
    The merchant’s voice rang out clearly indicating his disbelief. “A man of the church? I say again, you scoundrels, who is he?”
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    Meanwhile their natural curiosity had drawn Colin and Olivia towards the quarrel, but instinctively they knew to remain hidden in the trees. Sammy too remained quiet.
    Another voice, harsher and more guttural, broke into the argument. Go on. Tell ‘im, Grulph. ‘E won’t be so defiant then. Har, har!”
    â€œWell?” challenged the merchant.
    â€œEver heard of Abbot Abbott? His man at St. Weynolf’s Church reckons that last Sunday you only gave two groats to the church.” The man called Grulph paused dramatically, as if to let the information sink in. Then he went on, “Of course Abbot Abbott likes it not, when people are mean to the church, because then they are mean to him. He says he is not a wealthy man, yet he has to pay for his clothes, which have to be fine in keeping with his position in the church, he has to pay for his food, which has to be enough to keep him fit and healthful for all his duties and hard work for the church, he needs to pay for all the wine he needs to entertain the important people he meets in his work for the church, and don’t forget he has to pay all his men, like the two of us here. So I say again, you owe us, er…I mean, him quite a few bags of gold. Isn’t that so, Urquart?”
    â€œAye, that’s about right, Grulph.”
    â€œOh, no, no, no, no, no!” roared the merchant. “You are lying! The abbot is lying, or his spy in St. Weynolf’s is lying. I owe you and him nothing! Nothing! Do you hear? Nothing!”
    At that point Colin and Olivia had crept near enough through the trees to see the three men. The merchant was the only one wearing a hat. He also had a fine black cloak around his shoulders. He was faced by one very tall, very thin man and one, who was short and stocky. Both were wearing monks’ brown robes tied with a cord round the middle. The tall one was obviously Grulph, and he was doing most of the talking.
    â€œEnough of this idle talk!” he snapped. “Thou rich varlet, my patience is at an end. Hand over that moneybag. The abbot expects…”
    â€œFar too much,” said Colin, stepping out from between the trees.
    â€œEgad! What knave is this?” Grulph also stepped forward. Urquart merely growled something under his breath. It sounded like a curse. Then he spoke up. “Tis but a pipsqueak from the band that infests this place. See. He is dressed in green.”
    â€œVerily,” responded Grulph. “Begone, sirrah, forthwith.”
    Colin answered him coolly. “I think not, for I am from another place and another time. Leave this man be. He has clearly done nothing wrong.”
    Grulph advanced menacingly towards Colin, who stood his ground. Sammy gave a little growl. Olivia waited with him. She trusted Colin would know what to do.
    â€œBegone, I say,” repeated Grulph, “or you will have us and all the abbot’s men to answer to.”
    â€œOh, that’s no problem,” laughed Colin, grabbing the boastful Grulph by the wrists, “no problem at all” and he spun round five times in ever faster circles so that the skinny monk was parallel to the ground. Then, timing it perfectly, just like a hammer-thrower in an athletics event, he released him so that he flew through the air with great force and crashed unerringly into the open-mouthed Urquart. Both monks rolled over and over in a heap on the ground, where they lay