Snakes & Ladders Read online

  Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  Copyright © 2017 by Gaskell Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Afterword

  Also by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  For Tammy

  &

  Ben

  Hello everybody, and welcome to the world of Nathan, Poppy and their medieval friends.

  In medieval England, people spoke a little differently, and even today the English language has differences in America, Canada, England and Australia.

  Spelling is often different in different countries. In England, they talk about a ‘lift’ whereas in America it is an ‘elevator’. In England, one word is spelled ‘colour’ whereas the exact same word is spelled ‘color’ in America. What a muddle!

  But wait – there’s more. Because in my series BANNISTER’S MUSTER, there are a few old-fashioned words that aren’t used in any country anymore. For instance, ‘braes’ which is the old, old word for men’s underpants. Try telling your mother you need a clean pair of braes this morning to wear to school.

  John and Alfie are important characters in these books, and both speak old ‘cockney’ which is a simple distortion of the common language. ‘Ain’t’ instead of ‘isn’t’ – well, most of us say that from time to time. But also ‘tis’ (for ‘it is’) and ‘t’weren’t’ instead of ‘it wasn’t’. They also make some major mistakes in grammar, such as ‘me old man’ instead of ‘my father’ and ‘it were me’ instead of ‘that was me.’

  I have kept this sort of language to a minimum because I don’t want to make my book hard to read for anyone, but these characters all speak a little differently, and I hope you don’t find it confusing.

  I do hope everyone from all countries enjoys my books and do let me know if you have any problem with the language.

  Best Regards,

  Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  1

  “He’s back.”

  “Are you sure? Who says so?”

  “Me. I’ve seen him.”

  “So where is he? And how does he look?

  Alfie laughed. “Like always. Bumble-Bee hair, a ruddy big smile and I reckon his laugh is even bigger. Gone off, he has, fer a walk wiv John Ten-Toes.”

  John’s voice echoed from behind Alfie. “Reckon he looks like this.”

  And as everyone turned in a hurry, they saw Nathan sitting, grinning wide, on the doorstep.

  Within minutes the whole house was in turmoil. Alice ran back inside and called the steward, asked for marzipan cakes and warm drinks to be served at once, changed her mind and asked for honey biscuits and cold drinks, and then changed her mind again and decided that the kitchens should concentrate on producing a very special feast for dinner with steak pie and apple dumplings, which were Nathan’s favourites. Then she remembered to ask that the grandest spare bedchamber be aired and warmed with fresh sheets, all ready for Nathan to move into.

  Meanwhile, Sam rescued Mouse the cat from beneath his bed where she was hiding in sudden bewilderment at the unexpected chaos, and reunited her with her two remaining kittens. Mars Bar, the grey kitten, was busy licking the tip of his tail, of which he was particularly fond, but the black kitten Flop had, as usual, to be discovered in one of his peculiar hiding places. This time it was in a large iron saucepan which had been left outside the pantry to catch the drips when the back window leaked.

  John raced upstairs, three steps at a time, to make sure that Nathan’s bedchamber looked cosy and inviting with the windows open to the bright morning air, while Alfie ran in the opposite direction to make sure all the windows in the great hall were closed, eliminating possible draughts.

  Peter, his thumb in his mouth, wandered outside picking flowers, where he could find them, and presented these to the scullery boy who was cleaning the main cooking spit and asked that they be put in a jug of water on the dining table. Peter had left a trail of damp daisies behind him, and now the scullery boy dropped the rest as he tried to juggle between cleaning the spit and filling a jug with water, but Peter forgot all about the flowers anyway.

  Hermes, the goose, sat halfway up the main staircase with a small white kitten balanced neatly on his head. Hermes was somewhat in the way because anyone, which was everyone, who wanted to go up or down, had to squash past him. No one, however, considered asking Hermes to move, and it certainly did not occur to Hermes to put himself out of the way. The kitten, now named Gosling, had entirely forgotten it was part of Mouse’s litter, and clung to Hermes’ feathers with avid determination.

  Nathan, exhausted, found the most heavily cushioned settle in the main hall, stretched himself out, and sighed.

  “I’ve come to ask a favour.”

  “Anything.” Alice sat forwards, watching him, her hands tightly clasped. “We’ve been waiting.”

  “We bin waiting months,” said John. “You left in May. Now tis July.”

  Nodding, Nathan said, “Yes, the fourth day of July. Rather a special day in my time, being Independence Day in America. But you don’t know about that yet.”

  They all stared back at him. “What’s America?”

  “What’s Independence?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Nathan said. “I wondered if anyone would come back to Lashtang with me. I mean – just for an exploration and only a few days. You see, I think things have happened.”

  Everyone paused, staring back, both excited and dubious.

  The sun beamed through the long windows, slanting across the polished floorboards and turning dark wood to golden. The huge hearth was empty, but the settles, chairs and cushions were all grouped around, just as though the fire was still blazing. The wide-eyed stares now reflected the sunbeams.

  Finally Alice said, “Have you been back since the last time?”

  He had not. “Granny insisted I went back to school,” he said. “She wanted me to pass my exams. But I’m not so good at exams and I took my English and Maths but I don’t know the results, so now,” Nathan’s smile grew, “school’s almost broken up for the summer holidays and I’m free.”

  “Do schools break up? What happens to the broken bits?”

  Nathan ignored Peter, and continued to explain. “Last time I was here, I think I managed to get my mother and father out of the ice wall. But,” he said, “I never saw them. I can’t even be sure it happened. Granny refused to go back and check because she said they will both need time to settle down as Empress and Empling again without anyone watching and criticising. I mean – they were frozen away for nearly six years. Granny says they should be left alone to do whatever they want.
”

  Alfie was marching the width of the room, unable to sit still. “And Yark’s still frozen?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know anything.” Nathan shook his head.

  “Sit down,” said Alice to Alfie. “You make me dizzy.”

  But Nathan interrupted. “I just don’t agree with Granny. They're my mother and father and they haven’t seen me or my sister for years and years and all of a sudden they’re free but they can’t really know how that happened because I’m not there, and they can see there’s two fat idiots they’ve never met in their lives before, because I magicked the baron and his brother into the ice in order to set my parents free in exchange.”

  He spoke at such speed that everyone leaned forwards at the same moment to ask different questions. Finally John said, “Reckon we all need to go back to Lashtang then. I’s proper ready.”

  “But you,” Nathan answered him, “are the one who ought to stay here because you said you wanted to find your father.”

  “I tried. I ain’t found nuffing.”

  “Then I want to help here too,” Nathan insisted. “You help me in Lashtang and I’ll help with stuff here.”

  “And Poppy?” It was Alice who asked.

  “My sister wants to come too,’ Nathan grinned. “And I bet she’ll find a way to sneak out. But Granny’s trying to make her stay at home until she finishes her last exams. School hasn’t actually broken up yet and her exams aren’t finished. I just sneaked out a bit early. She’s better at exams than I am.”

  Alice giggled. “So she’s the clever one.” And Nathan grinned, nodding.

  The steak pie was delicious and the apple dumplings even better. It was a long time since Nathan had discovered that food back in medieval times, before farming methods changed and before the strange addition of odd chemicals, all tasted gloriously better. But it wasn’t the food he had come for.

  “I’ve been dreaming. Granny Octobr says the dreams are important, but she didn’t want to tell me what they might mean.”

  He told them about the dream. Yet finding the right words became increasingly difficult. “You just mean trees?” interrupted Alfie. “Woods. People chopping down trees for fires? Forests. Making charcoal?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Nathan paused. “It’s a forest in Lashtang. The great forest. But it’s in the air and on the ground and underground too. And I have an idea that Yaark has escaped from the ice, although I don’t know how, and now he’s going to hide somewhere until he gets his muscles back. A forest must be as good a place to hide as any, otherwise why would I keep dreaming of trees?”

  Finally Alice took a deep breath and answered quietly. “Of all the powers we met in Lashtang,” she said, “Yaark was certainly the most dangerous and frightening. If he’s weakened, then perhaps it will be safe for a little while. But I honestly think, Nat, that if anyone is going to travel over there to try and capture him again then it shouldn’t be you and it shouldn’t be us. It should be your Granny and your parents and people with more experience. I just mean,” she took another long breath, “none of us are clever enough or powerful enough.”

  With a sniff and a slight blush, Nathan nodded. “You’re right of course.” He pushed his hair back out of his eyes, hiding the blush. “But I have the knife of Clarr, and I keep getting these dreams for some reason. I can’t just sit and do nothing.”

  “And Granny says?”

  ‘She says the dreams matter. She says I have to do my homework. She says Poppy has to finish her exams. She says I ought to ride my bike to school and pump up the tyres. She said my parents won’t come looking for me and Poppy even though they haven’t seen us for six years, because they take their responsibilities seriously and they have to put the country first. She said lots of things.” He grinned suddenly. “But she didn’t stop me coming and she gave me a load of chocolate and other presents to bring for all of you.”

  Everyone was eating chocolate, slowly and with great concentration for the rare luxury, when Hermes woke up and flapped downstairs to enter the conversation. Gosling was still gripping hard to the top of the goose’s head.

  “The great Forest of Sharr,” said Hermes, marching into the centre of the circle and stopping suddenly, so that Gosling tumbled off, “is the heart of Lashtang. A place of secrets and hidden tunnels. The trees are not friendly.”

  Sam was trying to stop Mars Bar from licking the end of his empty Mars Bar paper. Flop had discovered the large pocket hidden on the inside of Nathan’s jacket and was wriggling into it. Mouse had found an interesting snuggle on one of the red velvet cushions, as far away from Hermes as she could get, and was curled up contentedly in a small puddle of her own dribble.

  Peter appeared to have gone to sleep but suddenly opened his eyes, removed his thumb from his mouth and said, “I had that dream too. Three times, It wasn’t a nice dream and it was always the same weird forest. It wouldn’t go away.”

  Blinking, Alice looked around. “Perhaps – just perhaps – I did too,” she murmured. “Only once, but it was last night and I couldn’t sleep and these big leafy trees kept whispering at me about secrets and hidden things.”

  “Mouse dreams,” said Sam from his cushion beside the cat. “You can see her eyelids fluttering. I bet she dreams of trees too. So did I, once. There was a great fat root, all dirty and covered in mud and it wrapped around me like a snake and I woke up crying and Mouse licked the tears off my face.”

  Alfie said, “Go on then. Reckon I better admit it an’all. I had four or more dreams like that. Them nasty tree roots crawling all over me head and poking into me ears. Last time were last night. Nigh made me sick.”

  Staring patiently at John Ten-Toes, Nathan waited. Finally John made his confession. “Yeh, you’re right. Tis me too,” he muttered. “Bin dreamin’ fer a month or more. Every time I wants to think on me Pa and finding me family, along comes these trees and makes me climb up and up an up till I’s on top o’ them branches lookin’ across to the sea. Now I ain’t never seen the sea in me whole life, so tis weird, but in them dreams I sits right on top o’ them trees, like I was in the sky, and I watches the waves come rolling in. Noise too. Roaring and splashing and pounding like thunder.”

  Awestruck, “I never seen the sea neither,” said Alfie. “What were it like And don’t say wet.”

  “It glittered,” said John. “Stretched far, far away and them mighty waves was white and tall. Off to the horizon it were darker, till it looked more black than blue.”

  “Seems we have no choice,” Nathan said, looking from one friend to another. “Something’s calling us. We have to go to Lashtang.”

  But it was later that evening when Alfie sat on Nathan’s bed and talked until the moon came up, peeping its silver halo through the cracks in the shutters, that the plans were agreed and decisions made.

  “He tried hard.” They were talking about John. “I went with him to the monastery where he were brung up. Just outside London, it were, but them monks didn’t want to let us in at first. Didn’t like it.”

  “Cold? Damp? Silent? Long empty echoing corridors?”

  “Nah,” Alfie shook his head. “They live a good life, them monks. Huge fancy gardens. Lots o’ wine and plenty o’ food. But they didn’t wanna help John.”

  Nathan was disappointed but knew John would have been a great deal more so. “Well, he always said the monks didn’t like him because he was cheeky.”

  “This were different.” Alfie leaned back against the pillows, and the deep shadows of the hanging bed-curtains seemed to enclose them both in a cave of swaying blues and greens. For a moment it reminded Nathan of his dreams of the forest. “The abbot what took John in as a baby, he weren’t there no more. Too old. Reckon he were dead though they all just said gone to God. Everyone else was mighty polite but they kept saying they didn’t know naught. Says as how lots of orphans was picked up in abbeys and monasteries and churches, and they done the best they could and that were that. They reckoned they couldna even rem
ember who John were. Ten Toes? asked one old gent. We wouldn’t never say naught silly like that. When we come away, I reckon John were more miserable than I ever saw him.”

  Before leaving medieval London the last time two months previously, Nathan had asked the knife of Clarr to help John discover his real father. Now it seemed the knife had achieved nothing at all. Nathan said, “I’m sorry. Did anyone try anything else?”

  “Alice did,” Alfie told him. “She went off to the monastery all on her own first, then to Percival Weeks, that lawyer gent what helped getting her house back. Then, in the end, she went to the Constable. But there weren’t no help from nowhere.”

  Nathan wondered if John had given up. “He doesn’t usually give up so easily.”

  “He ain’t gived up,” snorted Alfie. “But he just don’t know what to do next.”

  “It was Brewster Hazlett who told him about his father,” mumbled Nathan, half to himself. “Perhaps he knows some more. But I’ve no idea how to get hold of him. And I’m not sure I want to. Too dangerous.”

  Alfie sat up suddenly. “If you doesn’t know how to get to them Hazletts,” he said, “How’s we gonna get to Lashtang? That goose o’ yorn can’t carry all six of us.”

  But this was one thing that Nathan did know. He had spoken to Hermes at some length, and the answer had been explained over and over. Now Nathan repeated to Alfie what Hermes had told him.

  “Ladders.”

  Alfie stared, mouth open, then leaned back again against the pillows. “Teasing, ain’t you!” He yawned, hands clasped, and snorted. “There ain’t no way none of us can climb ladders up into the sky fer miles, nor gooses neither with them flat feet, not poor Alice with them long skirts, nor any of us. So I reckon you’s joking.”