Trust the cloak, Will had told her repeatedly. She wasn’t sure if it was intended to help her in such a devious mission as the one she was on.
So far as she could tell, nobody noticed her. That was hardly surprising. The restaurant patrons would be intent on their food and their conversation. And they were in a brightly lit room. It was highly unlikely that any of them might notice the dim figure slipping through the shadows across the street.
As she neared the village inn, the babble of voices from Jenny’s restaurant died away, to be gradually replaced by another sound. There was a travelling minstrel in the inn, entertaining the people who had chosen to go there for the evening. As she listened, the music stopped and there was a burst of applause. Her friends had picked a good night for their party, she thought. There was plenty of activity in the village to mask any sounds they might make.
Looking at the stable situated beyond the inn, she could make out the dull glimmer of a small fire reflected from the walls. She let herself into the saddling yard. Lucy, Gordon and another friend, Martin, were sitting round a small fire in the rear of the yard, a spot that was hidden from casual observers in the street. If she hadn’t known about the fire, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the dull flicker on the walls.
But she did notice the delicious smell of grilling lamb. As she approached, her friends called a greeting to her.
“You’re late,” Martin said cheerfully.
She shrugged an apology. “I had to wait till Will left. He seemed to take forever.”
“Well, you’ve got some catching up to do,” Gordon told her. He took two sizzling lamb skewers from the fire, put them on a wooden platter and passed it to Lucy. Lucy added a small game pie to the platter as she handed it along. Maddie sat cross-legged by the fire and took the plate. The lamb smelled delicious and her mouth was watering already. Carefully, knowing the meat would be hot, she bit into it.
“Mmmmm! That’s delicious, Lucy!” she said appreciatively. Her friend glowed at the compliment.
“They’ve been marinating for nearly eight hours,” she said. “That makes them nice and tender.”
“Here,” Martin said, handing her a wooden mug. “You can wash them down with this.”
Maddie took the mug. Her heart beat a little faster as she sniffed the contents. She could choose to say no now and there would be no harm done. Sneaking out to meet her friends was a minor thing. But drinking wine was another matter altogether. This was crossing a big boundary and, if she were found out, she had no doubt that she would be in trouble.
Gordon saw her hesitate and guessed the reason. “He’ll never know,” he said, grinning a challenge at her.
Abruptly, she decided, and took a deep swig of the wine. It tasted heavy and somewhat sour.
“Mmm, that’s good stuff!” she said, wanting to appear sophisticated and knowledgeable. In truth, she had no idea whether the wine was good. She had drunk wine before, on special occasions at Castle Araluen, when official toasts were being drunk. But that wine had been heavily watered and tasted nothing like this.
“I only get the good stuff,” Martin agreed cheerfully. He had no idea, either. In fact, the wine was rather poor quality. But, like Maddie, he wanted to appear as if he drank wine all the time and knew what he was talking about. “Here,” he added, “have a top-up.”
He’d decanted some of the wine from a small cask into a jug. He reached across now and slopped more of it into her mug, winking conspiratorially at her.
“Bottoms up,” he said and for a moment she was confused, wondering what he wanted her to do. Then she realised he was talking about the mug. She tipped it and drank deeply. The second mouthful was less sour, although to be honest, she couldn’t have said that she found it particularly enjoyable.
Lucy and Gordon drank deeply from their mugs too. Maddie took another bite of the lamb, then a large bite out of the game pie. The pastry was flaky and delicious and the spiced, rich filling seemed to explode flavour into her mouth. Maybe wine made food taste better, she thought. Perhaps that was why people put up with the sour taste.
As the evening went on, she noticed that wine seemed to have other properties as well. It seemed to improve one’s ability to converse and to say witty things. She found herself laughing at Gordon’s sallies, and replying in kind.
I’ve never been this amusing before, she thought to herself. She had just made a remark about the Wensley innkeeper, and his fondness for fried food. It seemed to be a hilarious observation. Her three friends laughed uproariously, and she only just managed to prevent a snot snigger as she joined them.
She peered owlishly across the fire at Gordon. His face seemed to be swimming in and out of focus. Must be the effect of the flames, she thought.
“Any wine left?” she asked Martin. He reached for the jug and overbalanced as he did so, narrowly avoiding falling sideways into the fire. They all howled with laughter. Maddie put her finger to her lips in a warning gesture.
“Shhhhhhhh!” she said. “Shomebody will hear us.”
She paused, a little confused, then added: “Did I shay shomebody?”
“You shertainly did,” Gordon told her.
“And you shaid ‘shay’ as well,” Lucy added, and they all exploded with laughter again. Maddie rocked back and forth, then lost her balance too. She toppled over sideways and lay on the stableyard earth. It seemed too much of an effort to sit up again, so she pulled her cloak around her and closed her eyes.
“Nobody can shee me,” she cackled. “Trusht the cloak.”
Which profound witticism set them all off once more.
“What the blistering blazes do you think you’re doing?”
Will’s voice cut across their laughter, cold and angry. She opened her eyes and looked up. He was standing over her, his cloaked, cowled figure outlined against the dark night sky. She heard Lucy’s quick gasp of fear. Ordinary village folk knew that Rangers were not people to be trifled with. Gordon’s and Martin’s laughter had died away and they sat staring fearfully at the dark figure confronting them. The shadow of the cowl hid Will’s face, which made him appear more ominous. They had seen him before, of course, riding through the village or sitting in Jenny’s restaurant. But here and now, in the dark, shrouded by his cloak and with the fury evident in his voice, he was a daunting figure indeed.
“Sit up, Maddie,” he ordered, his voice cold.
She scrabbled on the ground for purchase, became tangled in her cloak and finally managed to raise herself on her hands until she was sitting upright—although she swayed perilously.
All four teenagers peered anxiously up at the Ranger. Will held out his hand and snapped his fingers at Gordon.
“Give me that cask,” he demanded. Gordon hurried to comply, nearly dropping the wine cask in his haste. Will stepped forward and took it. He shook it experimentally. The cask was a little less than a quarter full and they could hear the wine sloshing around inside it.
Without warning, Will raised it over his head and hurled it with all his strength at the ground. The cask split into pieces, small planks of wood rebounding upward, the remaining wine fountaining up in a liquid explosion. The movement was so unexpected, so violent, that again Lucy let out a small bleat of fear. The two boys started in fright as well. Will pointed a finger at the three of them, moving it from one to the other as he spoke.