Read Online Winter Wood by Steve Augarde - Free Book Online Page B

made especially for him. Did they weave their own cloth, then? How? She caught his eye and realized that she was being studied in return, a look of grave curiosity that took in her hair, and the zips on her fleece, the blue charity bracelet that she wore on her wrist. And the sheer size of her, she supposed, would make her as much an alien to him as he was to her. Another wave of dizziness passed over her, and then receded. She shook her head and took a deep breath before trying to focus on the piece of paper.
    It was a double sheet, ruled – perhaps from an old exercise book. There were words on the left-hand page, very tiny, written in pencil, and a drawing on the right. The drawing was of a girl, or a woman, wearing a long dress and some sort of funny headgear. There was a big cross about her neck. A nun?
    The words on the left-hand page were carefullyprinted, with serifs and curly ‘g’s, as though somebody had copied the shapes of the letters from a book. ‘At my going . . .’ Midge began to look down the page. The words blurred, and then came back into focus. It was like a will, or a testament.
    â€˜Read it aloud to us,’ said Tadgemole, ‘so that Pegs may hear again what is written there.’
    â€˜All right, then,’ said Midge. She went back to the beginning.
    â€˜â€œAt my going, I, Micas, now task Loren to write my words for me, my eyes grown too weak to see. The leadership of our tribes I pass on to Bron, here present this day, and would also pass on the care of the Orbis, if it were still with me. But the Orbis has gone, longseasons since. To Celandine I gave it, when our tribes were in peril, and I have seen it no more, nor she who keeps it safe for us. Yet still I know that the Orbis will be brought to this place again, by her hand, when sun and moon and stars fall aright. The day will come. This I have been told by one who knows more, and such is now my belief. And this belief shall be passed on from leader to leader, and from heart to heart, so that all our tribe shall carry it with them. The good maid was sent to us as a sign from Elysse, to prepare us for our return. And to Elysse we shall return, when we are deemed ready. Celandine will know the day. Until then we must follow the teachings of the almanacs she gifted to us, for therein lies all the knowledge that we shall need. Come for me, when you make your journey, my friends. I shall be waiting for you along the way.”’
    Then there was a very scrawly signature – ‘Micas’ – at the bottom of the page. Midge stopped reading. What was this all about? It talked about her great-great-aunt as though she were like a saint or a prophet, or something.
    â€˜I don’t understand it,’ she said. ‘What does it all mean?’
    Tadgemole bowed his head briefly, before raising it to speak. ‘These are the words of Micas, who was leader of the Tinklers and Troggles when Celandine first came among us longseasons ago. Celandine taught us our letters, and how to sing. All our knowledge she brought to us, that which sets us apart from other tribes. Then the Ickri came and would have stolen the Orbis from us, aye, and murdered us all. The Orbis was given to Celandine for safekeeping, and she fled the forest in danger of her own life. She was seen but one more time, and that from a distance, by my brother Loren. ’Twas he who wrote the words and made the drawing you see before you.’ Tadgemole’s voice became firmer, almost as though he were issuing an order. ‘Find her, child, and bring her back. Bring her back, and the Orbis with her, so that all may be made right.’
    â€˜
Find
her? But . . . but Celandine must have died years ago. She’d have been about a hundred by now, if she was alive. Maybe more.’
    â€˜A hundred? A hundred fourseasons?’ Tadgemole’s heavy eyebrows rose in a look of faint surprise. ‘Is that such a long