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ALL THE BOYS SLEPT in one room, and since there were seven of them, it was crammed with two large beds that could fit three boys in each, and a narrow cot for the seventh. The room at the end of the hall, Marcel learned, was reserved for sick children or for new arrivals who came in the middle of the night. Marcel found he was to share a bed with Hugh and Dominic, and though it was a squeeze he was too exhausted to care.
In the morning, he was just another of the orphans who had to dress quickly when Albert called them and hurry down to breakfast before it was all gone.
“I want you to help Old Belch today,” Albert told him. “Hugh and Dominic can take you along to the stables.”
When the three boys reached the well in the middle of the courtyard, Marcel looked up again at the tower that brooded over them. The sight of those two small windows set in the stone put him on edge. Though he tried to shut it out, he heard that vicious roar again in his head and it sent a shudder through his entire body.
“Have you ever seen it?” he asked.
“Seen what?” responded Dominic.
“The creature he keeps up there. The one that made that terrible noise.”
“Never. We’ve heard a few strange things but nothing like yesterday.”
In the silence that followed, each boy conjured a picture of the beast in his mind. They were about to walk on when Hugh let out a rasping cough, then asked, “What do you think he feeds that thing?”
The other two stared at him. What kind of a question was that? They didn’t even want to think about it. But Hugh had a point to make. “It sounded pretty big, don’t you think? It’d need quite a bit to eat, but all Mrs Timmins ever leaves outside that strange door is a small tray for the old man.”
“Maybe he lets it out at night, to go hunting in the forest,” suggested Dominic.
“How does it get out, then? We’ve never heard it going though the house.”
“There’s a tunnel,” said a voice.
They spun around, all three of them trying to find who had spoken. Marcel was the first to see her. “Bea,” he breathed in relief when the girl appeared from the shadow of the well where she had just filled a bucket. “How do you know there’s a tunnel?”
“Because I’ve heard strange noises in the wall beside my bed. They started soon after that man came to live in the tower.”
“But where does it come out then? I’ve never seen a hole in the wall,” said Dominic sceptically.
“It’s on the other side of the house, where we don’t go very much, near the orchard. There are bushes up against the wall, that’s why you haven’t noticed it. I’ve seen some tracks there – giant paw prints, they looked like – but the opening is hidden somehow. I need to take another look.”
“No!” blurted Marcel, horrified. “Don’t go near those bushes. Whatever’s up in that tower, well… I don’t think any of us wants to meet it face to face.”
Before they could say another word, little Dot called from the kitchen door. “Bea, Mrs Timmins is waiting for that water.”
Bea hurried off, easily visible to them all now in the sunlight. Very strange, Marcel thought to himself yet again.
Though they were meant to be on their way to the stables, the boys couldn’t resist detouring to the far side of the house, where they stayed well back from the overgrown bushes that hugged the walls. “In there somewhere, eh?” said Hugh.
None of them went in for a closer look. They could still see that tower from here, though. There was only one window on this side. Marcel scoured the glass for a glimpse of Lord Alwyn. “Why does a sorcerer live here?” he wondered aloud. “A man like him would have a house of his own, don’t you think?”
“Or a whole castle.”
“If you ask me, he’s here because of you,” said Dominic. “You heard Mrs Timmins at dinner last night. We’re not even supposed to mention your name over in the village.”
“And if I go there myself, he’ll send that beast after me.” I don’t think I’ll ever find out who I really am, Marcel added to himself.
Hugh broke into his thoughts with another loud cough. “Come on,” he said to Dominic, “Albert’ll be wondering where we’ve got to.”
They walked silently back into the courtyard and to the stables, where they parted company. Marcel pushed aside the groaning door and called tentatively, “Hello, anyone here?”
When there was no answer, he sank down on a saddle in the darkness to wait for Old Belch. He hadn’t laid eyes on the man yet and didn’t know quite what to expect.
Soon he heard heavy footsteps on the cobblestones of the courtyard, then the stable door was swept aside to reveal the silhouette of a man as wide as he was tall. “Now then, where’s this lad who’ll be helping me with my horses?” he called.
Marcel scrambled to his feet, but no sooner had the man shouted into the narrow confines of the stables than a loud gurgle exploded from his throat. He slapped a hand over his mouth. “Er, sorry, my boy,” he muttered, but it did him no good, as his stomach immediately erupted again.
No need to ask how he acquired his name then, thought Marcel. “Albert said I’m to work with you today, sir,” he said, as he reluctantly moved closer. Despite the gloom of the stables, Marcel could see the man better now, his little pig eyes squeezed above hearty cheeks. His beard was nothing much to speak of, just a few gingery wisps that had no chance of hiding that series of bulging chins. Lower down, he just got rounder, his stomach most of all. It rumbled as Marcel’s eyes rested on it, but this time the man managed to suppress his burp.
“They tell me I shouldn’t eat so many onions,” he said apologetically. Then his face broke into a wide grin. “But I like ’em too much,” and to show it, he fished an onion out of his pocket and munched on it like an apple. “I’ve got an empty stall that needs cleaning out. Come on, put a shovel in that wheelbarrow and follow me.”
After doing as he was asked Marcel was led to the last stall along the row. “I had a horse in here until last week. You see all this straw and what the horse added to it? Take it all to the vegetable patch, then fill the stall with clean straw. And mind you do it properly, not like that Fergus. He disappeared before the job was half done,” Old Belch explained, doing his best to look serious, though the face he made was more comical than gruff. Then he burped. “Oh, excuse me,” he said, and promptly burped again. The pungent odour of half-digested onions wafted heavily through the stables.
Marcel started in with the shovel. It was easier work than he had expected and he was finished long before Old Belch came back and told him he could leave.
“Could I stay and have a look at your horses?” he asked.
Old Belch looked surprised. “No harm in that, I suppose. Come on, I’ll show you around.”
There were seven stalls, counting the one Marcel had cleaned out. The first contained СКАЧАТЬ