Winter Wood by Steve Augarde Page A

looked round.
    â€˜I . . . I came to see if ’twas you. Is all well?’
    Henty glared at him, angry that he should interrupt her thoughts.
    â€˜Are you sent to spy on me, Pank?’ The words came out instinctively, with no special thought behind them, but she saw in an instant that they had hit home. Pank lowered his head and looked embarrassed. He couldn’t meet her gaze.
    â€˜Your father . . . Tadgemole . . . he wondered where you might be.’
    â€˜And so you be sent to keep watch over me. To see that I don’t stray too far. Be this now the way of it?’
    Pank put on an air of surprise, and seemed about to deny this, but then his shoulders dropped and he gave a little sigh. He ran his fingers through his long dark hair. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘You’m not so far wrong. Tadgemole says that I’ve to see thee safe about. But ’tis no task o’ my choosing, Henty, I can tell ’ee that.’
    Henty put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. Anger welled up inside her afresh, but it was not directed at Pank. This was her father’s doing – and all her pain was caused by him. There was no reasoning against his stubbornness, and it was pointless to try. Let him be cursed, then, and she also if ever she spoke to him again. From now on she would make her own plans – and her own life.
    â€˜Come, then, Master
Pank
. To your duty. If you’ve to see me “safe about”, then you may see me safe to my chamber and stand guard there the night, so that I besafe from myself. We s’ll see how quick about you be on your toes – and how many nights of sleep you may do without.’
    Henty swept down through the centre of the cave, her thoughts already leaping ahead of her, the stumbling footsteps of Pank already lagging behind.

Chapter Four
    MIDGE AWOKE SUDDENLY in the night. She propped herself up on one elbow, and looked around her, startled for a moment by the unfamiliarity of her surroundings. The blue lamp glowed faintly at her bedside, the dimmer switch turned down low. It was OK. She was back in her old room again, that was all. Weeks and weeks it had been since she was here, and she had grown used to sleeping in with her mum. Now it felt strange to be on her own once more. That must be why she had woken up with such a start. Wasn’t it?
    Midge . . .
    A sunburst of pink and yellow exploded inside her head, softly spreading, like watercolour paint dropped onto wet paper. There was no sound.
    Midge sat bolt upright now, perfectly still, listening hard. Nothing but the faint rhythm of her own pulse, thudding in her ears.
    â€˜Pegs?’ She whispered his name, half expecting the magical animal to step out of the wardrobe, or from behind the shower door. But no. All was silent and still. With her heart in her mouth, Midge drew backthe duvet and got out of bed. She padded over to the window and peeped around the curtains, but could see only the dim shadow of her hesitant self, reflected in the pane.
    Midge . . .
    No, she had not imagined it. Certain, now, she undid the stiff catch and pushed at the window. The cold night air made her gasp as she leaned forward to look out into the darkness. And there he was. Standing by the balustrade wall, looking up at her, his mane silvery white beneath the winter moon. Pegs.
    All her memory came flooding back to her then, and all that had seemed so hazy and unreal was brought into focus. It had gone away for a while, this other world that she was somehow part of, but now it had returned to claim her and she was to be caught up in its dance yet again.
    â€˜Pegs?’ She could see the whispered cloud of her own breath coming out of her. ‘What’s happened? What do you want?’
    I must talk with you, maid.
    â€˜What, now? Do you want me to come down? But it’s freezing . . .’
    No. Meet with me tomorrow. Come early to the byre