ISOF (12 page)

The voice, which sounded gruff and almost spat out each syllable, belonged to a large hairy figure that leaned against one of the trees. The top half of his body was partly covered with a leather jerkin, leaving a pair of dark brown arms exposed to the elements. His lower half entertained a pair of dusky blue jeans that unintentionally exposed small patches of hairy legs to the sky.

Behind this figure stood five similarly dressed bodies. One of the figures held a small creature under its arm. A metal collar sat around the creature's neck, which was coupled to a chain that rested in the figure's other hand. Another pair of exposed arms clapped their hands together.

‘Nowt to say lads?' smirked the figure. The figure grinned. ‘Took you by surprise eh?'

Noj, edging himself to the front of the group, simply stared at the newcomers.

‘They'm not saying owt. D'ya think they erd us?' said the figure with a slight inclination of his head towards the rest of his group. The other newcomers simply grinned apart from the one who held the small creature under his arm. His eyes stared firmly ahead, with the only movement being a slow, rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the creature's head. The creature, obviously accustomed to the repetitive drumming on its head, peered at the world through half-closed eyes.

Ben couldn't take his eyes away from the small creature. It appeared to be covered in a mass of lumpy scales, which reflected every shade of a bleak mountain. Two grey domes sat behind a long protrusion, the end of which culminated with a series of off-white needles overshadowed by two black circular holes.

The creature, aware of being stared at, flicked open the covering of one dome and reflected Ben's gaze. The protrusion parted to allow a deep, red tongue to lick the air as a little plume of smoke escaped from the two black circles. Ben shook his head. If he wasn't mistaken, he'd just seen what could only be described as a dragon. He shook his head in amazement.

The first voice stroked his chin and turned towards the figure that held the dragon.

‘Hey up Kev, seems like this young fella is a bit interested in your bag of scales.'

Without a murmur, Kev pointed the creature at the group and squeezed its body. For a second nothing happened. Kev muttered under his breath and gave the creature a second, much harder squeeze. With a spit and a crackle, the creature opened its mouth to emit a jet of fire and smoke directly at Ben's feet. Instantly forgetting any earlier injury to his ankle, Ben sprang to one side as the flame scorched the ground in front of him.

The hairy figures laughed until tears streaked their grime-covered features. Kev patted the dragon creature's head. The dragon creature, with a momentary roll of its eyes, resumed its partial observation of life through narrowed eyelids.

‘Right, now then lads,' sneered the first voice. ‘How ya doin' like?'

Ben, making sure that he kept, what was obviously a sort of dragon, within sight at all times, quickly scrutinised the newcomers. The first voice was the largest member of the group, with almost every part of his body fighting to escape the limitations of the various bits of clothing and assorted bindings clinging to the hairy man. Each of the newcomers had similar claddings with the only difference being the amount of flesh that could be seen searching for daylight. Shaven heads glistened in the late afternoon apart from the first voice. Ben squinted at the unidentifiable mass that clung to the head. No matter how hard he tried, Ben couldn't work out what the fibrous tangle could be. The only thing it reminded him of was the mop-head that his Father used to clean the floor of their shop. Ben nodded at the object of his curiosity.

‘Is that a hat or your hair?' he asked.

Mak winced.

‘That was so unnecessary,' he groaned as he saw First-Voice's features dissolve into anger.

‘Cheeky beggar,' growled First-Voice, snatching what turned out to be a hat from his head and grabbing Ben by the throat, ‘I'll teach you…' he began.

The sentence remained unfinished as Noj placed the tip of his wooden staff against First-Voice's jaw.

‘Leave him be,' demanded Noj. ‘We have no quarrel with you. Let us be on our way.'

Mak, who had hunched his body against the tirade, nodded enthusiastically.

‘Yes, definitely,' he gibbered. ‘Must be on our way. Got to see a lady about some Goferats, yes, definitely.'

First-Voice smiled menacingly at Noj and placed a finger on the tip of the staff.

‘Quite the handyman with your wooden stick, boy,' he said calmly. ‘You don't want to be getting it broken, amongst other things, by putting it where it's not wanted, eh?'

‘I wouldn't out your finger on the end bit' warned Ben. ‘It might explode or shower you in sparks in something else that I haven't seen yet.'

Once again the Newcomers crumpled with laughter. Even First-Voice allowed a smile to flicker across his face.

‘A comedian eh?' he chuckled coldly. ‘I bet you're useful on a long journey.'

‘I wouldn't say
useful
exactly,' muttered Trep, who immediately regretted uttering a single word as First-Voice turned angrily towards him.

‘And who asked you to make a contribution?' he snarled.

Trep replied with a quick shake of the head and then occupied himself with staring at the ground. Ben looked at Noj with questioning eyes.

‘Cutters!' hissed Noj through gritted teeth. ‘I had no idea they'd trespassed this far south.'

First-Voice grinned.

‘We've been given a job to do,' he growled.

Noj sniffed. ‘Well, we better not detain you any longer,' he replied, barely disguising his sarcastic tone.

First-Voice allowed a noise to pass between his teeth that might have been interpreted as a laugh by his own kind. ‘Please don't think you're detaining us,' he smiled. ‘Our job is to detain you!'

Ben felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. The whole escapade seemed to be going from bad to worse and back again. First-Voice saw the confusion that crept over Ben's face, and gave a nasal grunt of satisfaction.

‘Thought you'd be pleased,' he belched. ‘Manners!' he added, rubbing his chest.

Ben shook his head, partly in disbelief and partly in annoyance. He looked at Noj.

‘What have I got myself into?' he hissed.

Noj sighed and shrugged his shoulders apologetically. ‘You're asking me?' he replied. ‘I was rather hoping you might be able to throw some light on the matter.'

‘Me?' gasped Ben. ‘What makes you think I know what's going on?'

Mak, kicking out at a clump of grass, jerked his head in the direction of the Cutters.

‘And this,' he sneered. ‘Is all supposed to be chance?'

‘I told you he was trouble,' snapped Trep. ‘I knew it the moment he was forced upon us.'

‘That's absolute rubbish,' replied Ben angrily. ‘You can't believe for a moment I had anything to do with this.' He jabbed a finger towards the Cutters. ‘I didn't know these blokes existed until now.'

‘Really?' asked Mak sarcastically.

Ben looked towards Noj for support but all he got was a shrug of the shoulders. ‘Sorry, Ben,' he said. ‘I'm beginning to have doubts about all of this myself.'

‘Charming!' exclaimed Ben.

First-Voice moved forward, waving his arms around as if he were trying to herd sheep.

‘Come along here, you lot. Can't hang around here listening to you whispering sweet nothings to each other,' he said grinning. The rest of the Cutters shuffled around with Kev making occasional threatening gestures with his dragon. Ben, who felt as if his head had been in contact with a revolving door, was beginning to get really narked.

‘Bunch of boneheads,' he growled angrily.

First-Voice folded his arms and stared at Ben. An audible gasp sounded as Mak cringed in fright. ‘Now that really was unnecessary,' he mumbled.

‘So,' said First-Voice slowly. ‘Boneheads are we?'

Ben shrugged nonchalantly.

‘Consider it a compliment,' he replied.

A silence hung around the clearing as everyone waited for something to happen. Kev stroked his dragon's head absentmindedly while the rest of the Cutters looked to First-Voice for guidance.

An almost imperceptible rumble began to sound around the clearing. Slowly the noise grew until even the leaves at the edge of the forest began to flutter. Ben, whose eyes had never left the face of First-Voice, saw wrinkles begin to form on the Cutter's face. Gradually the wrinkles spread until First-Voice's face dissolved in laughter. Loud, echoing, raucous laughter reverberated around. The rest of the Cutters looked nervously at each other. The reaction of First-Voice was not what they were expecting. A couple of feeble sniggers joined in with the laughter.

Noj, Mak and Trep simply stared at the scene unfolding before them. Mak gave a nervous giggle but was cut short by a stern glance from Noj. The laughter gradually subsided as First-Voice rubbed his stomach.

‘That,' he said, still rubbing his aching stomach. ‘Was the funniest thing I've heard since mother hit my father on the head with a skillet.'

‘You're welcome,' answered Ben, allowing a small smile to creep onto his face.

‘But,' replied First-Voice, as he strode forward and took hold of Ben's jaw in one hand. ‘I wouldn't push your luck pretty boy.' First-Voice turned, with his hand still firmly clasped around Ben's jaw, and address the rest of the Cutters. ‘Frisk ‘em, take their sticks from ‘em and then get ‘em moving.'

Within moments a small heap of personal belongings lay on the ground. Nestling on the ground were small pouches of coins, odds and ends of food, spare clothing and assorted junk. Pushing the items around with his foot, First-Voice nodded towards Ben.

‘That the lot?'

Ben thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his cloak and nodded.

‘I don't think,' growled First-Voice. ‘Empty your pockets lad.'

Ben turned on pocket inside out to show that it was empty. First-Voice nodded towards the other pocket. Slowly Ben turned the second pocket inside out. The ornate book that Pinchkin had given him tumbled onto the ground.

‘Bit fancy for the likes of you to be carrying around,' said First-Voice, giving Ben a quizzical look. Ben tried to mumble a reply but with First-Voice's hand still gripping his jaw, it wasn't easy. First-Voice grinned and released his hold.

‘You were saying?' he inclined his head towards Ben.

Running a soothing hand around his jaw, Ben looked at the book, at Noj and then again at First-Voice.

‘It was a gift,' said Ben swallowing hard to help soothe the words from his throat. ‘A book, nothing more.'

First-Voice nudged the book with the toe of his boot.

‘A very fine book to be given as a gift to you pretty boy,' commented First-Voice. ‘Far too fancy to be a gift.' He looked hard at Ben. ‘I reckon you stole this fine book from someone,' he said accusingly. He bent down to pick up the book and immediately cursed with pain.

‘You scheming offspring of slithering vermin, you knew that would happen,' growled First-Voice sucking at the blood that oozed from his pricked thumb. Behind him, two of the Cutters were playing at sword fighting using Mak and Trep's wooden staves. ‘Oi, you two,' snarled First-Voice. ‘Stop behaving like dung beetles and get yourselves over here.'

The two Cutters dropped the wooden staves and ran over to First-Voice. He nodded at the book. ‘Get that book open, might be something useful inside. Could be hollow with loads of lovely gems waiting for me.'

Both Cutters took out their knives and jabbed at the book. As soon as the knife tips made contact with the book, both blades shattered into fragments. The Cutters stared at their broken knives in disbelief.

‘What the…' began First-Voice with his thumb wedged in the corner of his mouth. He removed his thumb, stared at the rapidly forming bead of blood and pointed angrily at the book.

‘Open the damn thing,' he shouted at Ben. Quietly, Ben took the book from the ground and held it towards First-Voice.

‘I don't want it,' snapped First-Voice taking a step backwards. ‘You open it, and no funny business.'

Ben dutifully opened the book and held it for First Voice to look at. Carefully, First-Voice took a step forward and glanced quickly at the book. ‘It's just a load of words?' he spat. ‘Not a lot of good to me.'

Ben looked into the book and frowned. ‘Well, what did you expect?' he asked flatly. ‘It's a book.'

First-Voice took a threatening step forward.

‘I warned you,' he said, jabbing Ben sharply on the forehead with his finger.

Ben let out a cry of pain and immediately clutched at his head, allowing the book to fall to the ground.

As the book hit the ground, the words appeared to bounce off the pages and then settle back to their original place on the pages. Nobody made a move or sound, each waiting to see what Frist-Voice was going to do next. Raising his hand once again to jab at Ben's head, a strange gurgling sound began to emerge from the book. First-Voice paused mid-strike and looked down at the source of the noise. While the odd sound continued, the letters from the book began to slither around, forming what appeared to be a dark, inky stain on the pages of the book. As the sound grew louder the stain increased in size, slipping from the pages onto the ground and quickly moved towards the feet of First-Voice.

Instantly, First-Voice jumped back in surprise, while the other Cutters stood rooted to the spot, totally perplexed by what was happening. First-Voice pointed at the nearest Cutter.

‘You,' he growled, ‘do something and do it now!'

Looking through his moist eyes, Ben stared at the pool of dark sludge that continued to pour slowly out of the book and towards the Cutters. He pushed his finger tentatively into the liquid and immediately snatched his finger away. Where his finger had made contact with the viscous surface a large globule of a dark ink-like substance had stuck to his finger and began growing in size. Straight away Ben shook his finger to dislodge the inky globule. After a couple of shakes, the ball of thick ink flew from Ben's finger and landed at the feet of one of the Cutters. Instantaneously, the ink rapidly grew in size to completely envelop the Cutter's feet.

For a moment, the Cutter watched in amazement at the ink pool forming around his feet. As soon as he realised that his feet were disappearing beneath the ink, the Cutter let out a piercing scream.

‘Help!' he yelped. ‘Get it off, I'm being drowned alive.'

Without waiting for instructions, two Cutters immediately ran over to their friend, grabbed his arms and pulled him savagely out of the dark pool. With nothing to cling to, the ink slowly evaporated leaving no more than a dirty stain on the ground. First-Voice looked angrily at Ben.

‘I told you no funny business,' he snarled.

‘I had no idea,' gulped Ben. ‘I didn't know that stuff was in there, honest.'

First-Voice curled his lip. ‘Close the book, pretty boy and put it in your cloak pocket. We'll deal with it later.' He turned to the other Cutters. ‘Pick their stuff up from the floor and get ‘em moving. We've got a long walk ahead and I don't intend waiting here any longer.' He looked at the Cutters who were looking apprehensively at the dark pool that had stopped moving the moment that Ben had shut the book. ‘Shift!' yelled First-Voice.

The Cutters moved nervously around the clearing, not quite sure precisely where they were supposed to be shifting to, and thinking it better to shuffle about rather than ask First-Voice in which direction they should move their captives.

Noj looked questioningly at First Voice and moved his head enquiring which direction he wanted them to go. With an arched eyebrow, First-Voice made a mock bow and indicated the trail that led directly away from the forest.

‘If you would be so kind,' growled First-Voice.

The four captives began walking along the trail while First-Voice aimed his boot at the rears of two hapless Cutters and encouraged the other Cutters to move with a shake of his fist.

‘Get along you dozy dumps before I really lose my temper.'

Within seconds a bedraggled looking file of walkers turned their backs on the forest and faced the meandering hills before them.