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It was a deep cleft in a big rocky outcrop. Ben patted his dog affectionately. “Well done, mate. It’s practically a cave!”

Dominic found some dry, dead pine needles, and setting flint to the steel of his knife, he coaxed a fire into life by blowing gently on the tinder. He peered at the rock walls. “Artists were here long before us. Look!”

Crude representations of dancing people were drawn upon the rough rock walls in black, red and ochre, stick-legged men, women and children dancing around what appeared to be a fire.

Karay piled dead wood on the flames, commenting, “I saw a cave like this once, in the D’Aubrac Mountains. A gypsy woman said the drawings were more than a thousand years old, done by tribes who were shepherds and charcoal burners. They used to live in places like these.”

As evidence they found a heap of charcoal at the cave’s narrow end. Ben and Karay piled it on the fire. It gave out a good heat and glow once it began burning. Dominic spread their cloaks on nearby rocks to dry out. Warmth seeped through their bodies, steam rising from their hair. Ben opened one of the sacks and doled out bread, smoked ham and cheese, and also a flask of pale wine laced with water.

As they ate, Dominic pointed to the wall drawings in the flickering glow. “See how the shadows play across those pictures— you’d think the people were actually dancing!”

A noise at the entrance caused Ned to stiffen, and his hackles rose as he growled. Ben passed him an urgent thought. “What is it, Ned, what’s out there?”

Glowering toward the entrance and baring his teeth, Ned replied. “A wild boar. The scent of our food must have attracted it. Maybe it lives here now, who knows? I’ll chase it!”

Karay whispered to Ben. “Something’s upsetting Ned!”

Ben caught a glimpse of narrow, savage eyes at the entrance. “I think it’s a wild boar, Ned’ll send him on his way.”

“No, keep hold of him!” Dominic hissed. “Have you seen the tusks on those things? That boar would injure a dog badly. Better leave it to me.”

He chose a thick burning pine branch from the fire and dashed toward the entrance, shouting, “Yaaaah! Gerroutofit!”

The boar grunted and snorted, half turning. When Dominic was quite close to the beast, he lashed out, striking it several hard blows with the flaming brand. The boar squealed and ran off, leaving behind an acrid smell of burnt hair. Dominic flung the blazing wood after it, still shouting. “Yaaaah! That’ll give you a hot bottom! Go on, leave us alone!”

Karay looked at him with a new respect. “That was a brave thing to do. I’d run a mile from a wild boar!”

The facemaker shrugged. “What I did was what the villagers used to do when the old boar wandered into our settlement in Sabada.”

Ned remained awake on watch that night, wary that the boar would return. Sometime after midnight, the rain ceased. Inside the cave, the fire sank to glowing embers. Ben was awakened by his dog’s quiet whimpers in the oppressive silence. He stroked the Labrador’s flank. “Are you alright, mate?”

Ned licked the boy’s hand. “I must have dozed off for a while, Ben. I could swear I saw the faces of Vanderdecken and his crew out there among the trees, watching us.”

The boy scratched the soft fur under his dog’s chin. “It’s just tiredness, Ned. Have a sleep. I’ll keep watch. Though I’m sure Vanderdecken couldn’t follow us here—he’s bound to the seas by heaven’s curse. But I know what you mean, I was having a few dreams like that myself before you woke me. Go on, take a nap, try to dream of more pleasant things.”

Ned settled his chin on his front paws, letting his eyes close. “Just as you say, Ben, but I don’t like this area, and I feel there’s more to come before we find the Razan. Oh, there’s no use trying to think different, mate. Don’t forget, I can read your thoughts, and they tell me you’re thinking the same thing. You’re scared—me too! We both are. These forests and mountains—there’s an eerie feel about them. It’s like something we’ve never come across.”

Ben watched the black Labrador as sleep overcame him. He knew, with an awful sense of foreboding, that Ned was right.

20

DAWN’S FIRST FEEBLE LIGHT CREPT INTO THE cave as Ned lay on guard near the entrance. The black Labrador was in a peculiar state of semiwakefulness, with snatches of dream still hovering about his mind. A voice that he knew was the angel’s recited distantly to him.

” ‘Tis thou who must show the way, when visions of evil arise. Others may see what ye cannot, So be guided by thine own eyes.”

Another voice chimed in. “Who’s that? Come forward and be recognised!”

Ned woke immediately, knowing that the second voice was no dream. Thankfully, it was far enough away for only a dog to hear. Ben, Karay and Dominic were still asleep. Ned slipped out to investigate as yet another voice reached his ears.

“Put up your club, ‘tis only me— Cutpurse the clown!”

Shuffling through the undergrowth on his stomach, Ned moved noiselessly forward until he found the source of the voices.

A group of ten men, clad in gypsy rags, all well armed with clubs, knives and muskets, were watching a man emerge from the trees. With the group were a ferocious-looking mastiff dog and a brown bear, both wearing spiked collars and long iron-chain leashes to restrain them. Ned’s gaze settled on the fellow who was joining them. It was the fat rogue who had imprisoned Karay. He limped miserably out of the tree cover, leaning heavily on a homemade crutch. The leader of the band, a mean-faced villain with a marked squint, sneered mockingly at the newcomer. “Hah, what happened to you, Cutpurse?”

Wincing as he laid aside his crutch, he leaned against a tree and related his tale bitterly. “I thought I’d struck lucky last week. I captured a young girl—a singer she was, with a good voice. But she had us both taken by the constables, for stealin’. We broke out o’ prison together an’ stole a cart. Then d’ye know what the young hussy did? She stole the cart an’ ran away from me!”

Ligran Razan, the group’s leader and the second eldest brother of Maguda, sniggered scornfully at Cutpurse’s plight. “Broke your leg, too, did she, ye fat greasy fool!”

Cutpurse pouted sulkily. ” ‘Twas my ankle, not the leg. I fell and broke it when I was chasin’ her.”

Ligran eyed Cutpurse with disgust. “How you ever came to be part of the Razan, I’ll never know. Pick up that crutch an’ let’s get going. Better shift yourself, we aren’t stoppin’ for any who don’t keep up. Stop pullin’ faces and whining! Come on, blubbernose!”

Ligran headed off, leaning backward against the iron chain he was grasping as the dog pulled on it, straining forward. Three others flung more chains around the bear. They dragged the wretched creature along with them, striking it with long sticks as it made piteous, muted noises of distress.

Ned waited until the coast was clear, then dashed back to the cave and nosed Ben into wakefulness. The dog imparted his mental message of all he had witnessed. Ben thought about 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.”