Petronella & the Trogot by Cheryl Bentley Page A

Fortesque also gaveth the order of the cruel beheadings that taketh place in the year 853. How can they be nice folk, Pe...tro...ne...lla?” he asked.  
    â€œWill Lord Fortesque come back to life?” Petronella asked.
    â€œOnly The Strincas buried in the field shall cometh back here, if they be duggeth up. All the skeleton must needs be putteth together first. I be an exception.”
    How was it that The Hooded Horseman knew about Percy? As if reading her mind he said:
    â€œ Pe...tro...ne...lla, I know exactly who hath come backeth to life and who hath nat. But I cannat telleth ye who they be, or telleth ye what to do. You shall findeth out for yeself. Ye must needs only to use ye good sense to knoweth what to doth. I shall leave ye now, Pe...tro...ne...lla. I wish ye good luck. Please keepeth The Metal Disc in a safe place, if it be lost all The Strincas will stayeth in Fort Willow and ye shall not be able to control them anymore. Ye be the only one who hath the power to worketh the symbol because ye be THE CHOSEN ONE.”
    â€œCan I just ask you about The Trogot? Please. This black tree is so creepy. It worries me, so much” she said.
    But as Petronella looked up instead of seeing The Hooded Horseman she heard a horse’s hooves fading away in the distance. The Hooded Horseman had gone. Where he had been standing was a large black branch with black raindrops sliding off its black leaves. Petronella was in no doubt, let it be clear. This branch came from The Trogot. She was about to pick the branch up and take it outside. But as she reached out for it, the branch moved away. Petronella was just so frightened. She ran after it, tried to grab it again. But it lifted itself up and stuck itself to a figure standing behind her. The branch had now become an arm of the black monster trudging around her house. Was this the smaller version of The Trogot? No time to think about that. She called out to it. Who are you? But the figure opened the door and walked out slowly, heavily shuffling its feet. She locked the door behind it.
    Petronella rushed up into the spare bedroom to see if The Trogot was still there. She couldn’t see it. It must have moved. She opened the window to get a better view. She still couldn’t see it. So she leaned out and looked left then... she was gripped by hard tentacles, twigs scratched her face as she shook her head trying to free herself. The branches had wrapped themselves around her in a nasty tight hug. She couldn’t move. Other branches locked themselves around her legs. Petronella found it hard to breath, a branch was now around her neck, tightening, tightening. She was gasping for air, tried to breathe in through her nose. But the air wouldn’t go down as far as her throat. It was no good, she couldn’t struggle anymore. She was now a limp body. Thank God, she fainted.
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Chapter 18
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    The next morning Percy looked all around the house for Petronella. Where was she? She was nowhere downstairs.
    â€œPETRONELLA,” he shouted. “Where be ye?”
    Hearing his voice, Petronella came to. Had she just woken up from a bad dream?
    â€œPETRONELLA!” Percy’s voice again.
    â€œI’m here, in the spare room,” she called back, as loud as she could. Shouting made her chest ache. Could have been her lungs. She wasn’t sure. Percy came into the room and helped Petronella onto the bed.
    â€œHath ye spendeth all night on the floor?” Percy asked.
    â€œI don’t know. I don’t remember. I think I must have had a bad nightmare.”
    â€œBut why didst ye nat goeth to ye bed last night? And the window. It be open.” Percy looked at the window and said: “It be all scratched. And ye neck, Petronella, it be red-sore, like a rope hath been around it.”
    â€œThen it must have been true,” said Petronella. “It was the branches. It was The Trogot.”
    â€œWhat be The Trogot?” Percy