Читать книгу The Moon of Gomrath - Alan Garner, Alan Garner - Страница 12

“I think we mun have the doctor,” said Bess. “She’s wet through again – it conner be healthy. And that blessed sand! Her hair’s still full of it.”

“Reet,” said Gowther. “I’ll get Prince ready, and then I’ll go and ring him up.”

Colin ate his breakfast mechanically. Bess and Gowther’s voices passed over him. He had to do something, but he did not know what he could do.

He had been woken by Scamp’s warm tongue on his face. It must have been about six o’clock in the morning: he was huddled on the doorstep, stiff with cold. He heard Gowther clump downstairs into the kitchen. Colin wondered if he should tell him what had happened, but it was not clear in his own head: he had to have time to think. So he tucked his pyjamas out of sight, and went to light the lamps for milking.

After breakfast Colin still had reached no decision. He went upstairs and changed his clothes. Susan’s door was ajar. He made himself go into the room. She lay in bed, her eyes half-closed, and when she saw Colin she smiled.

He went down to the kitchen, and found it empty. Bess was feeding the hens, and Gowther was in the stable with Prince. Colin was alone in the house with – what? He needed help, and Fundindelve was his only hope. He went into the yard, frightened, desperate, and then almost sobbing with relief, for Albanac was striding down the Riddings, the sun sparkling on his silver buckles and sword, his cloak swelling behind him in the wind.

Colin ran towards him and they met at the foot of the hill.

“Albanac! Albanac!”

“Why, what is it? Colin, are you well?”

“It’s Sue!”

“What?” Albanac took Colin by the shoulders and looked hard into his eyes. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know – she’s in bed – no – I mean – you must listen!”

“I am listening, but I do not follow you. Now tell me what is wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” said Colin. He paused, and then began. As he spoke, Albanac’s face grew lined and tense, his eyes were like blue diamonds. When Colin started to describe how he had followed Susan to the quarry Albanac interrupted him.

“Can we be seen from her window?”

“No – well, just about. It’s that end window at the front.”

“Then I would not be here.”

They moved round until the gable end of the house hid them from any windows.

“Now go on.”

When the story was finished Albanac laughed bitterly. “Ha! This is matter indeed. So near, after all. But come, we must act before the chance is lost.”

“Why? What—?”

“Listen. Can we enter the house without being seen from the window?”

“Ye – es.”

“Good. I think I have not the power to do what should be done, but we must think first of Susan. Now mark what I say: we must not speak when we are nearer the house.

“Lead me to the room. I shall make little sound, but you must walk as though you had no guile. Go to the window and open it: then we shall see.”

Colin paused with his hand on the latch and looked over his shoulder. Albanac stood at the top of the stairs; he nodded. Colin opened the door.

Susan lay there, staring. Colin crossed to the window and unlatched it. At the sound, Albanac stepped into the room: he held the Mark of Fohla, open, in his hand. Susan snarled, her eyes flashing wide, and tore the blankets from her, but Albanac threw himself across the room and on to the bed, striking Susan under the chin with his shoulder and pinning her arm beneath him while he locked the bracelet about her wrist. Then, as quickly, he sprang back to the door and drew his sword.

“Colin! Outside!”

“What have you done?” cried Colin. “What’s happening?”

Albanac’s hand bit into his shoulder and flung him out of the room. Albanac jumped after him and slammed the door shut.