it for a moment before answering. "Don't wake Karay or Dominic. Let's go outside, I've got an
idea. Don't worry, mate, I'll give you full credit."
Karay and Dominic sat up rubbing their eyes as Ned and Ben dashed back into the cave and
roused them.
Dominic looked bewildered. "Where have you two been?"
Ben cautioned the facemaker, "Keep your voice down. Ned heard noises a short while ago, so
I went with him to see who it could be. We saw a gang of men—I think they're probably from
the Razan tribe, rough-looking and all well armed. They had a dog and a bear with them. Oh,
and guess who joined them, Karay? That fat greasy one whose ankle you whacked with his
own club—he was limping heavily."
The girl gritted her teeth angrily. "I should've killed him when I had the chance. It was you
who stopped me!"
Ben held up his hand. "Don't shout, sound can carry from here. What's done is done. I'm glad
you never slew the villain."
Karay stuck out her lip defiantly. "He deserved to die, the slimy rat. Why should you be glad
he's alive?"
Ben explained. "Because he's travelling with the others now. He's injured and bound to slow
them down a bit. That'll make it easier for us to follow them. Where else would they be
headed for but the Razan hideout?"
Dominic agreed. "Right. I'll wager they can lead us to Adamo. As soon as we've had
breakfast, we'll pick up their trail."
It was too dangerous to light a new fire. They broke their fast with some fruit and cheese
before leaving the cave.
The previous night's heavy rain had ceased, and the sun came out, turning the forested slopes
into a dense area of steamy mist as it heated the saturated ground and trees. The friends went
in single file, with Ned leading. It was not a difficult trail to follow. A dog, a bear and eleven
men left plenty of tracks. It was not more than an hour before Ned heard the band up ahead.
He halted and passed Ben the information. "We'd best slow down, I can hear them. Let's not
get too close, mate."
Ben pointed to the dog. "Look at Ned's ears—he must be able to hear them!"
Karay's voice dropped to a whisper. "Mist and fog can deaden sound. We must be very close
to them. Let's stop awhile."
Ned passed another message to Ben. "Stay here, I'll go ahead and see what they're up to. Be
back soon."
Before the boy had a chance to argue, his dog had vanished into the mist. Ned moved through
the trees like a dark, silent shadow. When he saw the men, he cut off left and crept along on
the same course as the band, watching and listening.
Ligran Razan looked back over his shoulder. "Where's that useless bag of blubber Cutpurse,
lagging behind is he? Bring him up front here, I'll move him!"
Two of the men dragged Cutpurse forward, stumbling and pleading. "Ow-ow-ow! Be careful
of my poor ankle, will you? Ligran, leave me here to rest a bit, I'll catch up with you later."
A thin, cruel smile hovered about the villain's face. "I ain't leavin' you anywhere, fatty. If
anybody found you they'd soon have you blabberin' where our hideout is. This'll stop ye
dawdlin'—Gurz can help you to keep in front."
Ligran took the end of the chain on which he was holding the mastiff. Grabbing Cutpurse
roughly, he hooked the chain through the fat man's belt and secured it. "Hahaha, just try
stoppin' Gurz, an' he'll have ye for lunch. Hup, Gurz, hup, go on boy, off with ye!"
Cutpurse only had time to grab the chain when he was hauled forward, hopskipping, limping
and staggering as the big mastiff dragged him along in its wake. "Howwoooh! No please, let
me go, let me go, I'll keep up!"
Ligran nodded. "Oh, you'll keep up alright—Gurz'll make sure o' that! Come on, you lot. Let's
go, see if ye can't make that thing move faster!"
The three men who were holding the bear's chains jogged forward, tugging the animal along.
Its collar had spikes both inside and out, and the bear made choking noises as the spikes dug
into its neck. Others followed behind, striking out with whippy branches at the pitiful creature,
forcing it into a fast shamble.
Ned had seen enough. He ran off, not daring to try and make mental contact with the bear,
lest it unwittingly betray his presence to the men.
By midday the mists had cleared, and the sun was beating down on the mountain slopes.
There was a slight dip at the woodland edge, giving way to a small valley. Behind this, the
snow-capped peaks stood like massive sentinels. Ben and his friends hid in the tree fringes,
watching the Razan band below in the valley. They had camped by a clear mountain lake and
lit a fire. Two of the men were cooking up oatmeal and maize porridge in a cauldron over the
flames. It was served out to the members of the robber band as they sat about, eating and
calling out to one another. Ben could hear them clearly from where he lay hidden.
The fat Cutpurse lay exhausted near the lake shallows, his injured foot immersed in the water.
He was still chained to Gurz, the big mastiff, evidently terrified of the ferocious brute, which
sat growling by his side. Ligran took a ladle of the steaming mush from the cauldron. He
slopped half of it on the ground and watched Gurz lap it up.
Stirring Cutpurse with a light kick, Ligran grinned. "I'd better feed him or he'll eat that ankle o'
yours. What's the matter, Cutpurse, got no bowl with ye? Oh, well, you'll just have to eat
yours the way it comes."
He poured the other half of the porridge from the ladle straight onto the fat man's jerkin. The
rest of the robbers guffawed at the look on Cutpurse's face. Ligran smiled. "Stop moanin' and
eat it up before it gets cold!"
Cutpurse was about to dip his fingers in the warm porridge when Gurz snarled at him. He
pulled his hand back and lay terror-stricken. Having finished his own portion, the mastiff
stood over the frightened man and began lapping up the porridge that lay in a glutinous puddle
on the thief's stomach.
Ligran was laughing uproariously at the spectacle, when one of the bear's handlers called out,
"Ligran, d'ye want me to feed this thing?"
The leader went and refilled the ladle from the cauldron. "He's supposed to be a dancin' bear,
let's see him dance for his supper. Come on, bear, dance! Up off your hunkers an' dance!"
Ben turned away from the scene below. "I can't watch any more of this. What makes those
people so cruel and callous?"
Dominic turned to face him. "They're Razan. Murder, thieving, cruelty and wickedness is a
way of life to them. That's how they've become so strong and feared by ordinary folk."
Karay watched for a moment, then she, too, turned away, brushing a hand across her moist
eyes. Her voice quivered as she spoke. "Oh, that poor bear! If I get even the slightest chance
I'm going to free him. I promise I will!"
Listening to the bear's muted sounds of anguish, Ned looked at Ben. "I'll free him, too, if I
can, the poor old thing!"
It was noon before the Razan broke camp and moved on. Ben and his friends had to stay
where they were hidden until the Razan left the valley and circled away out of sight around
the mountain's base. On reaching the lake, they stood at its edge, looking up at the mighty
rocks ahead of them.
Dominic shaded his ey
es against the sun. "They went off around that jagged bit up there—
we'd best follow right now. If we lose sight of them, it'll be difficult tracking over bare rock."
It was not too hard mounting the side of the valley. By midafternoon they had reached the
jagged rock that Dominic had pointed out. Loose rock scree dotted with growths of avens and
horseshoe vetch seemed to spread all over the area.
Karay shrugged as she looked around. "Which way now?"
Ned took a good sniff around, then passed Ben a thought. "Follow me, I could smell that big
stinky mastiff a mile off!"
The black Labrador trotted off into the larger shale, which looked like the up-jutting teeth of
some dead primeval monster. The others followed him, leaping from crag to crag. Ned
paused, his ears rising.
Ben heard the dog's thought. "Aye, that's them, up a bit and to the right!"
Night fell swiftly in the high places as late afternoon, twilight, then dusk followed one another
in fast succession. The scree and shale gave way to smooth, unyielding rock. Laboriously,
they trekked up a winding path, feeling carefully for safe places to set their feet. A wind
sprang up, harsh and chilling.
Cupping her hands, Karay blew warmth into them and sniffed. "We'd better look for
somewhere to shelter. I'll bet that lot of villains ahead of us have made camp by now."
The best they could find was a dry bracken bed beneath an overhanging rock. It was not at all
comfortable, being open to the winds on both sides. Karay sat down dejectedly. "This'll have
to do, I suppose. There's no caves round about."
Dominic took out his knife and began cutting bracken. "I'll show you what hunters do up in
the high places. Gather as much bracken as you can, and pile it up against the rock here." By
the time they had gathered enough bracken, their hands were numb with cold. Dominic lit the
bracken, directing them to sit facing the blaze, close together, with their cloaks around them
forming a shelter. Ned squidged in between Ben and Karay as the facemaker explained: "With
the rock overhanging us and our cloaks acting as a shield, the firelight glow will be hidden."
Ben warmed his hands gratefully. "I shouldn't think even the Razan would be out on a night
like this. We're pretty safe here. Wait while I dig some food out."
They ate cheese and some of the ham with a loaf of bread. Dominic broke open the loaf, then
toasted it over the fire and divided it into four. It tasted very good.
Night closed in around the four figures crouched around their fire on the bleak mountainside.
The bracken did not last long, as it was brittle and burned quickly.
Dominic tossed his toasting twig into the embers. "We're in for a cold night. 'Tis a pity there
isn't any wood hereabouts—all the forestland's far below us now."
Karay shivered. "My back is freezing. That wind seems to go right through these cloaks!"
Ben rose and trampled the fire embers flat, until the spot was just a warm patch of ground.
"There's nothing more to burn, mates, so let's sit on the ground with our backs against the
rock. It might help a bit."
When they had settled themselves and huddled together, Ned climbed over Ben and lay in
front of Karay. "There! That'll keep her warm. Ben, I can hear somebody coming this way.
Quick, tell our pals to duck under the cloaks and keep very still!"
Ben whispered to the other two, "Someone's coming. Let's throw the cloaks over our heads
and keep quiet!"
Ned shuffled back and got under the front of Karay's cloak. A moment later, the tap of a staff
end hitting the rock became audible. Ned had been right—someone was coming. Ben peeked
through an open fold of his cloak, covering his mouth so that his breath would not mist out
into the open.
It was an old woman, bent almost double—whether it was from old age or the heavy jumble
of tattered shawls, scarves and blankets draped across her back, Ben could only guess. She
leaned for support on a tall pole from which the bark had been peeled, making the wood
appear stark white. She halted not far from where the travellers lay hidden, then slowly she
turned until she was facing them.
Ben caught his breath, then immediately relaxed. The old crone was blind. She wore a dark
strip of cloth bound about her eyes. He caught Ned's thought. "She can't see us, mate, though
I've never seen a woman who looked more like a witch in my life!"
Ben stared at the old one. He had to agree with the dog: her face was like a bundled-up and
creased parchment with hairs sprouting from odd bumps all over it. Above her shrunken,
toothless mouth a hooked nose practically touched an uptilted chin. Truly the image of a
witch. When she spoke, her voice was wheezy and shrill. "Are ye friend or enemy?"
They kept silent, scarcely daring to breathe. She swung the staff. Ben felt the whoosh of air as
it whipped by, inches from his face.
The hag took a pace forward, calling out, "I am Gizal, friend of the Razan. I know ye are
there. Speak."
The friends held their silence. Gizal cackled nastily. "A touch of my staff can turn folk into
bats, toads or worms. So, my children, if ye speak not, I will cast a great spell on thee. 'Tis the
last chance I'll give you. Now speak!"
Dominic felt Karay's hand grasp his beneath the cloaks. The hag took another pace forward
and grasped the staff tight in both her clawlike hands, swinging out as hard as she could.
Thock! The wooden pole struck the rock, sending a shock through the hag's body and stinging
"Nnnnnyyyaaahhh! Yeeeeeeehhh!"
Ben clasped his hand over those of Dominic and Karay, urging them to remain quiet.
Gizal rolled about, clutching her clenched fists to her mouth in agony and making a noise as if
she were humming. "Mmmmmmmm!"
After a while she pulled herself up onto her knees and started crawling about, arms
outstretched as she searched for her fallen staff. It had dropped between Ben and Karay, one
end up against the rock, the other end on the ground. Gizal blundered forward, her hands
grasping the air as she came closer to them. Ned took a chance. Poking his head from the
cloak, he butted the pole outward. It toppled, striking the old woman's shoulder. Instinctively
she grabbed it. Slowly she hauled herself upright, hissing viciously through her shrivelled lips.
"I curse thee to the pit of Eblis and the fires of the damned! Ravens shall pick over thy bones
and maggots devour thy flesh whilst thou art still alive and praying for death!"
She shuffled laboriously off into the night, still muttering the direst of curses and predicting
unthinkable ends for the four companions.
They waited quite a while before anyone ventured to speak. It was Ben who finally broke the
silence. "Whew! She's got a very nasty mouth on her for an old lady."
Karay sounded nervous. "She looked just like a witch— maybe she can really curse folk."
Dominic laughed. "You don't believe in all that old rubbish, do you? Huh, I wish we had some
of those hellfires she was raving about here right now. At least we could get warm from them,
eh, Ben?"
The boy stood up, stamping life back into his cold feet. 'Aye, right, Dom. Don't worry about
some old biddy's curses, Karay. I've been cursed
at much worse than that, and look, I'm still
here. Ned, too!"
The dog's thoughts cut in on Ben. "We may be here, but I think we'd be better off somewhere
else. That old Gizal is bound to run into the Razan gang up ahead. No matter how quiet we
kept, she knew we were here. If she tells the Razan, I'll bet they'll send men to search us out. I
don't think they take kindly to being followed."
Ben mentally thanked Ned and suggested to his friends that they needed to find somewhere
else for the remainder of the night. They broke camp hurriedly.
Further up the mountain, Ligran Razan sat beneath a canvas awning, cooking goat meat over a
fire and listening to Gizal's story. He gave her wine and a few of the roasted goat ribs to pick
on as he weighed the situation. Gizal was respected among the Razan hierarchy—it was not
considered wise to ignore her words. Ligran kicked out at a man lounging nearby. "Rouge,
you an' Domba take Gurz. Track back down the mountain an' see if ye can capture whoever
'twas hidin' out there."
Gizal butted in. "There'd be two, mayhap three, and a dog. I'm sure I could smell dog. Look ye
for young ones, their breathing was gentle, not noisy like grown folk."
Rouge, a big redheaded ruffian, clasped the chain to the mastiff's collar. "Gurz'll sniff 'em out,
never fret, Gizal. Me an' Domba will give the brats a good slappin' before we drag 'em back
here. If they've got a dog, so much the better, look at Gurz there. Eh, boy, 'tis a long time
since you had a whole dog to yerself for dinner, eh?"
Domba jerked the lead, coaxing a snarl from the big ugly mastiff. Both men picked up their
long knives and set off, with Gurz sniffing noisily at the ground as he tugged them along.
Gizal gulped wine greedily, falling into a fit of coughing before she turned her face to Ligran.
"So then, how is thy bear behaving himself on his way home?"
Ligran took a burning piece of pinewood from the fire. He threw it at the bear, who was
bound to a rock by iron chains. The animal gave a frightened moan as the burning wood
bounced off its paw.
Ligran chuckled. "I've a feeling ye took all the runnin' out o' that one. I'm teaching him to
dance now. Maguda will enjoy that—she's never had a dancin' bear to amuse her."
21
BEN KNEW HE HAD PICKED THE WRONG direction to search for a camp. The path he