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Authors: Christopher Russell

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BOOK: The Quest of the Warrior Sheep
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Luke was beyond caring about Neil's upholstery. He got in beside him and wiped his sleeve on the white leather seat. Saffron didn't mind the mess. Or the stink. She jumped in after Luke and sat on his lap, wagging her tail and licking his filthy face.

The car bounced and lurched along painfully for a while, then the unmade lane rejoined the main track and they were able to go faster. Soon they saw what they were looking for.

‘Tractor's up ahead!' shouted Luke, feeling relieved. He had changed his mind again about giving himself up. He would get the phone from the little sheep
before Neil could, then he would run straight to the police in Loch Glooming.
They
could divert the money back to its rightful owners.

On reaching the tractor, Luke jumped out of the car before Neil had finished braking. But the trailer was empty. There was no sign of the driver or of the sheep. Luke slumped down in the middle of the road and put his head in his hands.

‘What are you doing?' bawled Neil. ‘Get back in the car. They've got to be really, really close!'

He jumped back in and Luke, feeling he had no choice, followed. Saffron was already there, feet on the dashboard, excited. Neil drove on, steering with one hand, the other arm resting on the open window frame as he scanned the fields around. A few eager minutes later, he shouted again.

‘There they are, look!'

He was right. The sheep were milling about further along the narrow track, where it passed between a high stone wall on one side and a rocky outcrop on the other.

‘Bionic?' laughed Neil. ‘Super intelligent? No way.' And he punched the air.

‘Why've they stopped?' Luke asked. ‘There's no gate or anything.'

‘Don't know, don't care,' replied Neil. ‘They're just stupid woolbags.' He savoured the moment. ‘Let the dog out, and we've got them.'

17
The North

T
he Rare Breed Warriors had been halted by the widest cattle grid they had ever seen. It was there to stop farm animals from straying into the thick pine forest beyond. Its smooth rounded bars seemed to grin up at the sheep, as if knowing they dared not step on it. Livestock won't tread on a grid for fear of getting hooves trapped between the bars.

The rock face to their right was too steep to climb. The wall to their left too high to jump. And the dog and the men who had tried to trap them in London were racing towards them. The dog was barking. They could almost feel its hot breath on their backs.

‘Ohmygrass . . .' whimpered Jaycey. ‘We're trappedtrappedtrapped!'

Links didn't think so.

‘Let's roll, man!' he suddenly shouted.

‘This is no time for one of your moves,' bleated Sal. Then to her astonishment, Links threw himself sideways on the grid, kicked his feet in the air and began to do just what he'd said: roll.

Wills instantly followed. Then all the sheep were on the grid, rolling and wriggling across it on their backs.

‘Go dog! Go!' yelled Neil, but Saffron was going nowhere. She only barked even more ferociously, to cover up her own dread of stepping on the slippery, gappy bars. She just couldn't do it. And her sheep moment was fading quickly.

Neil and Luke ran back to the car and Saffron jumped on to Luke's lap again.

‘Why didn't you show her who's boss?' asked Luke, as they trundled slowly over the grid. Neil ignored him.

‘Chuck her out,' he snapped, as soon as they were on the other side.

Luke opened the door and nudged Saffron until she had to jump.

‘Go on, you big wimp!' Neil shouted at her. ‘I paid three hundred quid for you! Prove you're not completely useless.'

‘She's not a wimp,' retorted Luke. ‘She's sensitive.'

Saffron ran after the disappearing sheep and Neil drove as fast as he could along the winding track after her. He caught up with her standing at a stream at the edge of the forest.

Neil drove straight past the dog and through the stream.

‘What's the matter?' he called mockingly back at Saffron, as spray from the wheels soaked her. ‘Don't like getting your feet wet? Which way now, Superdog?'

Saffron suddenly became agitated, barking towards the wide track in front of the car. The track was straight and steep, cutting uphill through the forest, dividing it in two. It was rutted with wheel marks, for this was a forest where the pine trees were grown and cut down for timber. There was a pile of logs at the top of the hill, and, struggling up towards it, were the sheep.

‘Yes!' shouted Neil, punching the air again. He drove rapidly on to the wide forest track, revved the engine hard and started up the slope after the sheep.

‘Go get 'em!' he yelled at Saffron. But Saffron stayed where she was. She stopped barking and watched
uneasily as the car roared and bumped up the hill. The sheep were suddenly nowhere to be seen. Where had they gone?

Hiding behind the pile of logs at the top, Jaycey panicked when she heard the low grinding roar coming towards her.

‘Ohmygrass! The beastthebeastthebeast . . .!'

‘What beast? What beast?' asked all the other sheep, turning to Jaycey in alarm.

‘How do I know?' she bleated. ‘All forests have beasts, don't they? That's what my mum said.'

‘Jaycey, it's the car, remember?' said Wills, trying to calm her down.

‘Car! Car! Car!' cried Jaycey. One reason to panic was as good as another.

‘Shush, I've got a plan,' said Wills. He turned and spoke rapidly to the others. They nodded in agreement. They had to act as one and act fast.

But Jaycey was too frightened to listen to Wills. She dashed out from behind the pile of logs and was instantly transfixed by the two great yellow eyes coming towards her.

Neil had just flicked on his headlights and there it
was, all lit up: the black-and-white sheep with the phone in the plastic bag swinging from its petrified neck.

‘Got you this time, woolbag!' he shouted exultantly.

‘Don't run it over, then!' cried Luke.

‘Why not?' laughed Neil. ‘Can't bite or butt if it's squidged.'

The Warriors didn't hear this nasty threat. Their heads were down, waiting for the word from Oxo.

‘One, two, three . . . Butt!' he cried, then smashed his great forehead into the pile of logs. The others did the same. ‘And again!' cried Oxo. ‘Butt! Butt! Butt!'

Neil stared. The logs piled next to the black-and-white sheep suddenly ceased to be a pile. A few bounced off. The ones at the bottom began to slide. Then the whole lot started to roll downhill, towards the car.

‘Reverse! Reverse!' screamed Luke helpfully.

Neil did so, fast, but it's hard to steer backwards downhill pursued by half a forest. One wheel left the track, then another; then the car slid sideways and ended in a ditch, right way up but stuck fast. The logs rumbled by, casually denting the roof and doors as they went. The forest fell silent.

‘Are you all right, Neil?' ventured Luke anxiously.

‘Wonderful, mate,' came the reply. ‘Absolutely socking wonderful . . .'

‘Look,' said Luke. ‘Sheep.'

Neil slowly raised his head.

Luke was right. A huddle of the woolbags was standing above them, floodlit by the remaining headlight beam. If Neil hadn't known better, he could have sworn they looked concerned. Guilty, almost.

‘Don't worry,' he shouted at them savagely. ‘The car's a write-off but we're just fine. Really comfy.'

The Warriors looked at each other.

Wills shrugged. ‘I suppose that's all right then,' he said.

‘Yeah,' said Oxo. ‘What's a write-off?'

Wills didn't know. But the important thing was the plan had worked. The car wouldn't be chasing them any further.

Luke shivered, and not just because of the plummeting temperature. He was scared. He didn't like forests. Saffron hadn't exactly proved useful to them but he was glad when she bounded up and squeezed into the car again.

A noise overhead made him duck. When he risked looking up, he saw only a helicopter. If it had looked like a police helicopter he would have got out of the car and waved his arms and shouted. But it didn't. At least, he didn't think the police used bright blue helicopters. He slid further down into the not-so-white leather seat and put his arms around Saffron's warm body.

The sheep also heard the loud noise in the sky and hurried from the track into the shelter of the trees.

‘Hey . . .' Oxo stared upwards in amazement. ‘Did you see the size of that mosquito?'

In the helicopter, Tod and Ida gazed down at the purple blackness of the pine forest but didn't see the sheep. It was an unlikely place for sheep to go, in any case, but there'd been no sign of them back at Loch Glooming or on the rugged open ground near the town.

Then Tod saw a car. It seemed to be very badly parked. In a ditch. He urgently tapped his gran's hand and pointed.

‘Look, Gran,' he said. ‘That car. It's like the yellow one those guys in our field had.'

Gran looked. ‘Could be,' she said. ‘A bit mucky
now, though.' She laughed. ‘I wonder if his precious upholstery's still white.'

Lady Babcott's voice crackled in their headsets. ‘No sign of your sheep?' she asked.

‘No. Only a car we thought we recognised,' said Tod.

The helicopter banked away.

‘OK,' said Lady Babcott. ‘We'll land at the town and make enquiries.'

Down in the forest, with the sound of the giant mosquito fading, Oxo was anxious to move on.

‘Come on, sheep, let's ship out.' He really didn't fancy pine needles for supper.

The sun was almost down and Sal glimpsed its redness through the trees.

‘Remind me, dear,' she said to Wills, ‘Turn which way at the sunset?'

‘Right,' said Links. He began humming his latest rap.

‘Right on to the right,

Cos the Eppingham Posse

Is headin' for a fight.

We's bringin' home the Baaton

After all the way we come,

And if we meet the Lambad,

We's gonna bite him on the –'

‘Yes, thank you, Links,' said Sal hastily. ‘I think we have a way to go yet.'

‘Way to go,' agreed Links, nodding. ‘Way to go . . .'

They continued uphill until the forest finally thinned and the ground levelled off. A freezing wind rushed to meet them, and they stood for a moment, blinking and gazing across a narrow strip of boggy ground towards the mountains. The bog and rocks merged gently into the foothills, but rising above these gentle slopes were rock faces wider, steeper and sharper than anything any of them had ever imagined. None of them spoke but they all felt scared. Very scared. In front of the Warriors stood a sign:

WELCOME TO THE NORTH.
HAVE YOU:

• Told your next of kin where you are?

• Told your next of kin when you will be back?

• Told your next of kin what's for dinner?

• Made a will?

• Donned appropriate foul-weather clothing?

• Brought someone to carry it for you if it gets too hot?

The sheep couldn't answer yes to any of the questions, with the possible exception of foul-weather clothing. The biting wind made them doubt even that. Above them, the pale-green sky was turning dark grey.

‘So this is it, then,' said Wills. ‘The land of the Soays.'

‘Yeah, man,' said Links, his teeth chattering. ‘Where the weakest p-p-perish, innit.'

‘Ohmyg-g-grass . . .' whimpered Jaycey.

‘What if the Golden Horn Dude ain't here after all?' asked Links.

‘He'll be here,' said Sal with certainty. ‘And there's not a minute to lose. He's been without his life-giving Baaton for much too long.'

‘Onwards and upwards!' cried Oxo. And he hurried on before his hooves froze.

One by one, the other sheep nodded and lowered
their heads against the wind, and the Rare Breed Warriors marched on determinedly towards the now-glowering mountains.

They were almost at the foothills when, without warning, Jaycey squealed and hurled herself to the ground.

‘Ohmygrassohmygrass . . .' she gurgled, her face in the frozen dirt.

‘What's the matter with her now?' asked Oxo.

Jaycey was twitching a front hoof in the vague direction of the sky. The other sheep looked up and saw winged black dots circling high above.

‘Crows! Crows! Crows!' bleated Jaycey. Her mum had told her all about those as well; how they pecked naughty lambs' eyes out.

‘They won't hurt you, dear,' Sal reassured her. ‘Truly, they won't.'

‘No way, man,' agreed Links. ‘Crows is sweet, innit.'

But he wasn't as sure as he sounded. None of them was. This was the North, where the weakest perished.

‘Jaycey, remember what we've faced already,' said Wills. ‘The Tube, The Eye. The Grid. Remember how brave you've been. You're a Warrior Sheep. You're not
going to let a few crows stop us saving the Ram of Rams, are you?'

They nudged Jaycey to her feet and plodded on.

The sun had set now, but the dark sky became strangely lighter. Sleet began to fall, stinging their eyes as the wind drove it towards them. And as the ground rose higher, so did the wind; and the sleet turned to snow.

The Warriors arranged themselves in single file, Oxo in the lead, his great head defying the blizzard as they struggled forward. They could no longer see the mountain peaks, no longer see anything through the whipping whiteness except the Warrior directly in front of them; could no longer hear anything above the shrieking wind.

On either side of them, the snow was settling despite the wind. Already drifts were forming, hiding dips and hollows in the ground. Ice caked the Warriors' faces, freezing their eyelids shut.

BOOK: The Quest of the Warrior Sheep
11.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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