The Wind of Southmore Read Free Page B

even
noticed that she had left.
    “ Do – do you – go anywhere near the Penmorven house?” She
finished the question in a rush, as if afraid that her voice would
suddenly disappear.
    The
driver, predictably, made no answer, but again motioned for her to
step inside.
    Alice
forced down a lump in her throat and, with a grim determination,
lifted her bag onto the worn cloth seat. The driver clicked the
reins as soon as she climbed in beside it, and Alice leant back,
her heart pounding fiercely as the horse mounted the steep
climb.
    Why was everything so open here? she wondered. There were no cars to be seen,
no tall, cramped buildings thick with lives. No factories chugged
the excretions of their polluted manufacture into the air, no TVs
or stereos could be heard blasting into the night.
    All was silent and sharp and watchful, as if something was on
the prowl and the rest of the world was hiding from it. It was a
frightening sensation. She shuddered. All that could be heard were
the continuous cries of the seagulls. Strange, purposeful cries, as
if the birds were calling each other. It was very weird. Alice was
aware of their circling overhead, their constant watching. These
seemed to be no ordinary gulls. Perhaps it was the strangeness of
it all, but Alice couldn’t help feeling that they were
watching her .
    “ Aye, the birds know,” a voice sounded from somewhere, although
whether it came from the cart driver or something else, she didn’t
know. She clutched tightly to the side of the vehicle, barely able
to distinguish the bumps in the road from the fearsome shaking of
her own body.
    And then,
suddenly, the horse drew to a stop and the top of the hill was
reached and Alice gasped. It was the night of the full moon, and
the sky was ablaze with the shimmering glow of stars. All the
constellations were out and visible, and they illuminated the
little village below them as if it were a fairy scene.
    To her
surprise, the birds swooping and darting over the crest of the hill
screamed in pain at the starlight, and covered their eyes in a
furious batting of wings, and were suddenly and strangely gone.
Alice hadn’t realised how many there were, for once the tumultuous
retreat had occurred in a blind and angry flapping, the air seemed
very light and clear, and even the heavy seaweed smell of the ocean
seemed fainter.
    Then, as
the cart rounded a corner, Alice found herself gasping again at the
wondrous sight which met her eyes. For there, outlined in the
silvery moonglow, was the shape of a castle, grand and glorious
against the starlit backdrop. She stared in amazement as the cart
driver actually turned the horse towards the landmark, glancing
quickly at him for some sign of confirmation that this was indeed
their destination, but his face remained turned from hers, his back
still and straight. Although she may have imagined it, she thought
for a minute that she could see the outline of the castle through
him. She looked away quickly, and concentrated on the horse’s
path.
    To her
excitement, the driver did indeed turn into the tall castle gates,
drawing the horse to a standstill outside two heavy oak doors,
adorned by the worn and crumbling image of a dragon. Without a
word, he leapt lightly from his seat and lifted down Alice’s case,
then extended his hand as if to assist her. Remembering the icy
gush of his touch on her shoulder, Alice shook her head, gently, so
as not to hurt his feelings, and swung herself down. She felt very
forlorn, standing by her small case, as he went to pound on the
thick, arched entrance.
    No lights
appeared. Alice stood nervously on the step, clearing her throat
and racking her brain in vain for the impressive opening sentence
which seemed to elude her. She heard footsteps, and a tiny peephole
that she hadn’t noticed slid open, the light of a candle making her
squint as two pale eyes stared out at her.
    “ What d’you want?”
    “ I – I – ” she had hardly time to think of an