That was bad enough but there was worse to come. At the foot of the stairs, waiting in the hall, Arkwright stood clutching another half-empty bottle of wine, his face like thunder.
'I've been listening here for a few moments and couldn't believe I was hearing right. Haven't just been in your own room, have you, Master Ward? You've been meddling. Been pushing your nose in where it doesn't belong!'
'I heard a noise upstairs,' I said, halting on the bottom step. He was blocking my way.
'There are lots of noises upstairs, and as you well know, they're caused by the unquiet dead. By my family. And that's my business,' he said, his voice now dangerously quiet, 'and nothing to do with you at all. Wait here!'
Still carrying the bottle, he pushed past me roughly and ran up the stairs two at a time. I heard him walk along the landing on the first floor and go into three of the rooms. Then he went up the next flight of stairs and I heard a bellow of rage. I'd forgotten to lock the door behind me. I knew he'd be furious that I'd gone into his private room. He wouldn't want me to see the coffins.
Arkwright came bounding down the stairs and ran right at me. For a moment I thought he was going to hit me with the bottle but he used his right hand to clout me across my left ear. Trying to dodge the blow, I overbalanced, lost my footing and crashed down onto the kitchen floor. I looked up, my head ringing, gasping for breath. I felt stunned and nauseous: the fall had driven all the breath from my body. Arkwright lifted his boot and I thought he was going to kick me, but instead he crouched down close to my head, his furious eyes glaring down into mine.
'Well,' he said, his sour breath right in my face, 'let that be a lesson to you. I'm off out again with the dogs to check the marsh. In the meantime get on with your studies. If this ever happens again, you won't know what's hit you!'
After he'd gone I paced backwards and forwards across the kitchen floor, seething with anger and hurt. No apprentice should have to endure what I'd suffered.
It didn't take me long to decide what to do. My stay with Arkwright was over. I would head back to Chipenden. No doubt the Spook would be far from pleased to see me returning so early. I'd just have to hope that he would believe everything that had happened to me and take my side.
Without further thought, I picked up my bag and staff, crossed the front room to the porch door and stepped out into the garden. I hesitated. What if the dogs were close and caught my scent?
I listened carefully but all I could hear was the whine of the wind across the marsh grass. Moments later, I was wading across the salt moat, glad to see the back of Arkwright and that dank old mill. Soon I'd be back with Alice and the Spook.
CHAPTER 10
The spook's letter
When I reached the towpath, I followed the canal south. At first I walked quickly, thinking that Arkwright might try to follow me; try to drag me back to the mill. But after a while my alarm subsided. He would be glad to be rid of me. No doubt that was what he'd been trying to do all along — drive me away.
I walked for an hour or so, still seething inside, but eventually both my anger and my headache faded. The sun was dropping towards the horizon but the air was crisp and sharp, the sky clear, and there wasn't even the slightest sign of mist. My heart began to soar. Soon I'd see Alice; I'd be back training with the Spook. All this would seem like a bad dream.
I needed somewhere to sleep for the night — it looked like there'd be a frost before morning. On the road the Spook and I usually spent the night in a barn or cowshed, but there were lots of bridges over the canal between here and Caster and I resolved to wrap myself in my cloak and settle down under the next one I came to.
By the time it came in sight the light was fading fast. But a low growl to my right brought me to a sudden halt. Under the hawthorn hedge that bordered the towpath crouched a large black dog. One glance told me that it was one of Arkwright's — the ferocious bitch he called Claw. Had he sent her to hunt me down? What should I do? Retreat? Or try to get past her and continue on my way?
I took a careful step forward. She remained still but was watching me intently. One more step brought me level with her and resulted in another warning growl. Watching her carefully over my right shoulder, I took another step, then another. Moments later I was striding away, but I heard her bound out onto the towpath and begin to pad along behind me. I remembered what Arkwright had said.
Don't turn your back on her — she's dangerous.
And now Claw was walking behind me! I glanced back and saw that she was keeping her distance. Why was she following me? I decided that I wouldn't sleep under this bridge. I'd keep walking until I reached the next one. By then the dog might have got fed up and gone home. As I reached the arch, to my dismay another wolfhound emerged and moved towards me with a low, threatening growl. It was Tooth.
Now I was scared. One big dog was in front of me, the other behind. Slowly and very deliberately, I placed my bag on the ground and readied my staff. Any sudden move and they might attack. I didn't think I could deal with both. But what choice did I have? I pressed the recess in my staff and there was a click as the blade emerged.
It was then that someone spoke from the darkness under the arch of the bridge:
'I wouldn't try that if I were you, Master Ward! They'd rip your throat out before you could move!'
Arkwright stepped out to confront me. Even in the poor light I could see the sneer on his face.
'Heading back to Chipenden, are you, boy? You've barely lasted three days! That's the fastest any lad has run away. I thought you'd more guts than that. You're certainly not the apprentice Mr Gregory made you out to be. '
I didn't speak because anything I said was likely to provoke him to anger. I'd probably get another battering; he might even set the dogs on me. So I just pushed the blade shut and waited to see what he would do. Did he intend to drag me back to the mill?
He whistled, and both dogs took up position at his heel. Shaking his head, he walked towards me, then thrust his hand inside his cloak and pulled out an envelope.
'This letter's from your master to me,' he said. 'Read it and make up your mind. You can either go back to Chipenden or continue your training here!'
That said, he handed me the letter and set off north along the towpath. I watched until both he and the dogs were out of sight. Then I took the letter from the envelope. It was the Spook's writing all right. It was difficult to read it because by now the light was dim. Even so, I read it twice.
To Bill Arkwright
I ask you to train my apprentice, Tom Ward, beginning as soon as you possibly can. The need is urgent. As you will know from my previous letter, the Fiend has been released into the world and the danger from the dark has increased for us all. But although I have mostly kept it from him, my fear is that soon, once again, the Fiend will attempt to destroy the boy.
I must be blunt. After the harsh way you treated my previous apprentice, I'd thought never to entrust another lad to your care. But it must be done. The threat to Tom Ward grows daily. Even if the Fiend does not come against him directly, I fear that he will send some other denizen of the dark. Either way, the boy must be toughened up and taught the hunting and combat skills he urgently needs. If the lad survives, I believe he will prove to be a powerful weapon against the dark, perhaps the most potent born into our world for many decades.