The Spook's Mistake Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title

  The Wardstone Chronicles

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  CHAPTER 1 The king's shilling

  CHAPTER 2 The truth of things

  CHAPTER 3 A late reply

  CHAPTER 4 The mill

  CHAPTER 5 A shrill high scream

  CHAPTER 6 Water lore

  CHAPTER 7 Frog-kicks

  CHAPTER 8 The fisherman's wife

  CHAPTER 9 Whacks and lumps!

  CHAPTER 10 The spook's letter

  CHAPTER 11 The witch's finger

  CHAPTER 12 Morwena

  CHAPTER 13 The hermit of Cartmel

  CHAPTER 14 A dead man!

  CHAPTER 15 The dancing finger

  CHAPTER 16 Trail of blood

  CHAPTER 17 Pursuit

  CHAPTER 18 Two messages

  CHAPTER 19 The bargeman's daughter

  CHAPTER 20 No choice at all

  CHAPTER 21 Hobbled

  CHAPTER 22 Widdershins

  CHAPTER 23 A witch bottle

  CHAPTER 24 The folly

  CHAPTER 25 Grimalkin

  CHAPTER 26 The unthinkable

  CHAPTER 27 A hard bargain

  CHAPTER 28 The fight on the marsh

  CHAPTER 29 Where I belong

  CHAPTER 30 The black barge

  CHAPTER 31 Whose blood?

  The Spook's Mistake

  www.kidsatrandomhouse.co.uk

  THE WARDSTONE CHRONICLES

  BOOK ONE: THE SPOOK'S APPRENTICE

  BOOK TWO: THE SPOOK'S CURSE

  BOOK THREE: THE SPOOK'S SECRET

  BOOK FOUR: THE SPOOK'S BATTLE

  BOOK FIVE: THE SPOOK'S MISTAKE

  The Spook's

  Mistake

  Joseph Delaney

  Illustrated by David Frankland

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  ISBN 9781407042350

  Version 1.0

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  THE SPOOK'S MISTAKE

  A BODLEY HEAD BOOK 978 0 370 32931 4

  Published in Great Britain by The Bodley Head,

  an imprint of Random House Children's Books

  A Random House Group Company

  This edition published 2008

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  Copyright © Joseph Delaney, 2008

  Illustrations copyright © David Frankland, 2008

  The right of Joseph Delaney to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This electronic book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  ISBN: 9781407042350

  Version 1.0

  Set in 10.5/16.5 Palatino by Falcon Oast Graphic Art Ltd.

  RANDOM HOUSE CHILDREN'S BOOKS

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  www.kidsatrandomhouse.co.uk

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  THE RANDOM HOUSE GROUP Limited Reg. No. 954009

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Printed and bound in the UK by CPI Mackays, Chatham, ME5 8TD

  For Marie

  THE HIGHEST POINT IN THE COUNTY

  IS MARKED BY MYSTERY.

  IT IS SAID THAT A MAN DIED THERE IN A

  GREAT STORM, WHILE BINDING AN EVIL

  THAT THREATENED THE WHOLE WORLD.

  THEN THE ICE CAME AGAIN, AND WHEN IT

  RETREATED, EVEN THE SHAPES OF THE

  HILLS AND THE NAMES OF THE TOWNS

  IN THE VALLEYS WERE CHANGED.

  NOW, AT THAT HIGHEST POINT ON

  THE FELLS, NO TRACE REMAINS OF WHAT

  WAS DONE SO LONG AGO,

  BUT ITS NAME HAS ENDURED.

  THEY CALL IT –

  The Wardstone.

  CHAPTER 1

  The king's shilling

  Carrying my staff, I went into the kitchen and picked up the empty sack. It would be dark in less than an hour but I'd just enough time to walk down to the village and collect the week's provisions. All we had left was a few eggs and a small wedge of County cheese.

  Two days earlier the Spook had gone south to deal with a boggart. Annoyingly, this was the second time in a month that my master had gone off on a job without me. Each time he'd said it was routine, nothing that I hadn't seen before in my apprenticeship; it would be more useful for me to stay at home practising my Latin and catching up with my studies. I didn't argue but I wasn't best pleased. You see, I thought he'd another reason for leaving me behind – he was trying to protect me.

  Towards the end of the summer, the Pendle witches had summoned the Fiend into our world. He was the dark made flesh, the Devil himself. For two days he'd been under their control and commanded to destroy me. I'd taken refuge in a special room Mam had prepared for me, and that had saved me. The Fiend was now doing his own dark will but there was no certainty that he wouldn't come hunting for me again. It was something I tried not to think about. One thing was certain: with the Fiend in the world, the County was becoming a much more dangerous place – especially for those who fought the dark. But that didn't mean I could hide away from danger for ever. I was just an apprentice now, but one day I would be a spook and have to take the same risks as my master, John Gregory. I just wished he could see it that way too.

  I walked into the next room, where Alice was working hard, copying a book from the Spook's library. She came from a Pendle family and had received two years' training in dark magic from her aunt, Bony Lizzie, a malevolent witch who was now safely confined in a pit in the Spook's garden. Alice had got me into lots of trouble but eventually became my friend and was now staying with my master and me, making copies of his books to earn her keep.

  Concerned that she might read something she shouldn't, the Spook never allowed her to go into his library, and only one book at a time was ever given into her keeping. Mind you, he appreciated her work as a scribe. The books were precious to him, a store of information accumulated by generations of spooks – so each one carefully duplicated made him feel a little more secure about the survival of that knowledge.

  Alice was sitting at the table, pen in hand, two books open before her. She was writing carefully into one, copying accurately from the other. She looked up at me and smiled: I'd never seen her look prettier, the candlelight illuminating her thick dark hair and high cheekbones. But when she saw I had my cloak on, her smile instantly faded and she put down the pen.

  'I'm off down to the village to collect the provisions,' I told her.

  'Ain't no need for you to do that, Tom,' she protested, concern evident in her face and voice. 'I'll go while you stay and carry on studying.'

  She meant well but her words made me angry and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from saying something unkind. Alice was just like the Spook – overprotective.

  'No, Alice,' I told her firmly
. 'I've been cooped up in this house for weeks and I need a walk to blow the cobwebs out of my head. I'll be back before dark.'

  'Then at least let me come with you, Tom. Could do with a bit of a break myself, couldn't I? Sick of the sight of these dusty books, I am. Don't seem to do anything but write these days!'

  I frowned. Alice wasn't being honest and it annoyed me. 'You don't really want a walk down into the village, do you? It's a chilly, damp, miserable evening. You're just like the Spook. You think that I'm not safe out alone. That I can't manage—'

  'Ain't that you can't manage, Tom. It's just that the Fiend's in the world now, ain't he?'

  'If the Fiend comes for me, there's nothing much I can do about it. And it wouldn't make much difference whether you were with me or not. Even the Spook wouldn't be able to help.'

  'But it's not just the Fiend, is it, Tom? County's a much more dangerous place now. Not only is the dark more powerful but there are robbers and deserters at large. Too many people hungry. Some of 'em would cut your throat for half of what you'll be carrying in that sack!'

  The whole country was at war but it was going badly for us down south, with reports of some terrible battles and defeats. So now, in addition to the tithes that farmers had to pay to the Church, half of their remaining crops had been commandeered to feed the army. That had caused shortages and driven up the cost of food; the poorest people were now on the verge of starvation. But although there was a lot of truth in what Alice said, I wasn't going to let her change my mind.

  'No, Alice, I'll be all right by myself. Don't worry, I'll be back soon!'

  Before she could say anything more, I turned on my heel and set off briskly. Soon I had left the garden behind and was walking along the narrow lane that led down to the village. The nights were drawing in and the autumn weather had turned cold and damp but it was still good to be away from the confines of the house and garden. Soon Chipenden's familiar greyslated rooftops were visible and I was striding down the steep slope of the cobbled main street.

  The village was much quieter than it had been in the summer, before things had deteriorated. Then it had been bustling with women struggling under the weight of loaded shopping baskets; now very few people were about and I went into the butcher's to find myself the only customer.

  'Mr Gregory's order as usual,' I told the butcher. He was a large red-faced man with a ginger beard. At one time he'd been the life and soul of his shop, telling jokes and keeping his customers entertained, but now his face was sombre and much of the life seemed to have gone out of him.

  'Sorry, lad, but I've not much for you today. Two chickens and a few rashers of bacon is the best I can do. And it's been hard enough keeping that under the counter for you. Might be worth your while calling in tomorrow well before noon.'

  I nodded, transferred the items to my sack, asking him to put them on our bill, then thanked him and set off for the greengrocer's. I did little better there. There were potatoes and carrots but nowhere near enough to last us for the week. As for fruit, the grocer could manage just three apples. His advice was the same – to try again tomorrow, when he might be lucky enough to have more in.

  At the baker's I managed to buy a couple of loaves and left the shop with the sack slung over my shoulder. It was then that I saw someone watching me from across the street. It was a scrawny child, a boy of probably no more than four, with a thin body and wide, hungry eyes. I felt sorry for him so I went over, fished into the sack and held out one of the apples. He almost snatched it from my hand and, without a word of thanks, turned and ran back into the house.

  I shrugged and smiled to myself. He needed it more than I did. I set off back up the hill, looking forward to the warmth and comfort of the Spook's house. But as I reached the outskirts of the village and the cobbles gave way to mud, my mood began to darken. Something didn't feel right. It wasn't the intense cold feeling that alerted me that something from the dark was approaching, but it was a definite unease. My instincts were warning me of danger.

  I kept glancing back, sensing that someone was following me. Could it be the Fiend? Had Alice and the Spook been right all along? I quickened my pace until I was almost running. Dark clouds were racing overhead and there was less than half an hour before the sun went down.

  'Snap out of it!' I told myself. 'You're just imagining the worst.'

  A short stroll up the hill would bring me to the edge of the western garden and within five minutes I'd be back in the safety of my master's house. But suddenly I halted. At the end of the lane there was someone waiting in the shadows beneath the trees.

  I walked a few faltering steps further and realized it was more than just one person – four tall burly men and a lad were staring in my direction. What did they want? I felt a sudden sense of danger. Why were strangers lurking so close to the Spook's house? Were they robbers?

  As I got closer, I was reassured: they stayed under the cover of the bare trees rather than moving onto the path to intercept me. I wondered whether to turn and nod at them but then thought it better just to keep walking and not acknowledge them at all. As I passed beyond them, I gave a sigh of relief but then I heard something on the path behind me. It sounded like the chink of a coin falling onto stone.

  I wondered if I'd a hole in my pocket and had dropped some of my change. But no sooner had I turned and looked down than a man stepped out of the trees and knelt on the path, picking something up. He looked up at me, a friendly smile on his face.

  'This yours, boy?' he asked, holding a coin out towards me.

  The truth was I wasn't sure but it had certainly sounded as if I'd dropped something. So I put down my sack and staff, then reached into my breeches pocket with my left hand, intending to pull out my change and count it. But suddenly I felt a coin pressed firmly into my right hand and looked down in surprise to find a silver shilling nestling in my palm. I knew there hadn't been one in my change so I shook my head.

  'It's not mine,' I said with a smile.

  'Well, it's yours now, boy. You've just accepted it from me. Isn't that right, lads?'

  His companions stepped out of the trees and my heart sank into my boots. They were all wearing army uniforms and carried bags on their shoulders. They were armed too – even the lad. Three of them carried stout clubs and one, with a corporal's stripe, was brandishing a knife.

  Dismayed, I glanced back at the man who'd handed me the coin. He was standing up now so I could see him better. His face was weather-beaten, with narrow cruel eyes; there were scars on his forehead and right cheek – he'd evidently seen more than his fair share of trouble. He also had a sergeant's stripes on his upper left arm and a cutlass at his belt. I was facing a press gang. The war was going badly and these men had been travelling the County, forcing men and boys into the army against their will to replace those killed in action.

  'That's the King's shilling you've just accepted!' the man said, laughing in an unpleasant, mocking manner.

  'But I didn't accept it,' I protested. 'You said it was mine and I was just checking my change—'

  'No use making excuses, boy. We all saw what happened, didn't we, lads?'

  'No doubt about it,' agreed the corporal as they formed a circle around me, blocking any hope of escape.

  'Why's he dressed as a priest?' asked the lad, who couldn't have been more than a year older than me.

  The sergeant bellowed with laughter and picked up my staff. 'He's no priest, young Toddy! Don't you know a spook's apprentice when you see one? They take your hard-earned money to keep so-called witches away. That's what they do. And there are plenty of fools daft enough to pay 'em!'

  He tossed my staff to Toddy. 'Hold onto that!' he ordered. 'He won't be needing it any more and it's good for firewood if nothing else!' Next he picked up the sack and peered inside. 'Enough food here to fill our bellies tonight, lads!' he exclaimed, his face lighting up. 'Trust your canny sergeant. Right, wasn't I, lads? Catch him on the way back up the hill rather than on the way down! Well worth
the wait!'

  At that moment, completely surrounded, I saw no hope of escape. I knew I had escaped from worse predicaments – sometimes from the clutches of those who practised dark magic. I decided to bide my time and wait for an opportunity to get away. I waited patiently while the corporal took a short length of rope from his bag and bound my hands tightly behind my back. That done, he spun me to face west and pushed me roughly in the back to help me on my way. We began to march quickly, Toddy carrying the sack of provisions.