Legends from The Warlock's Chair - Book One - Ravengaard

Chapter Eight - Ceridwen

AFTER A BREAKFAST OF SCRAMBLED EGGS, beans and toast washed down with large glasses of orange juice, they helped Mum tidy up around the house. Dad had already left to get the shopping. So when they finished, they asked Mum if it was okay to go out for a walk.

She let them go. But not too far, she said, they might be going out later. Danielle said she had her mobile phone, and if she needed them, she could give her a call. After a quick change into shorts and T-shirts and a detour to collect the weapons; they set out to explore more of the area around the house.

Very soon they found themselves standing at the main gate.

'Which way shall we go?' Danielle asked.

'This way,' George said, pointed to his left. 'We've been down through the orchard and seen the Whispering Tree, let's try this side for a change.'

His sisters nodded their agreement.

They set out, walking along the tree-shaded lane that led to the main road. Partway down the lane, they came upon an old wooden stile set in the hedgerow. Climbing over they found themselves in a large meadow thick with wildflowers of all kinds and colours. The meadow was almost triangular in shape, bound by Whytewytch Wood on one side and the Coblyn River on the other.

The long grass whipped at their bare legs as they walked across the meadow towards the river. All around myriad insects buzzed and flitted about the wildflowers. Much to George's annoyance, this caused Jessica to stop every few minutes and study them.

Eventually, they reached the riverbank. It dropped away steeply to where the waters flowed, swift and clear, across a bed of gravel and stones. In the current patches of weed danced and swirled. Further downstream—where the bridge spanned the flow—the water slowed a little. Bright sunlight shone through the trees and dappled on the surface of a deep pool that had formed there. Dad had shown them some good-sized fish—trout he called them—swimming in it and promised to take George fishing there one day.

They followed a well-worn pathway that wound along the bank. After a while, it veered away from the river and headed into the woods. Here the trees grew thick and tall on either side of the track. High above a gentle breeze stirred the leaves, causing the sunlight to dance and flicker on the woodland floor. Birds sang and called warnings from among the foliage. Little vegetation grew under the trees; just a carpet of old leaves that stretched as far as they could see. A family of squirrels playing and scampering around in the leaf litter headed for the safety of the treetops on the children's approach.

From up ahead came the familiar sound of rushing water. A small stream, swollen by the recent rainfall, tumbled over rocky outcrops and small boulders, making its way down from high on the hillside to join with the river.

The children crossed over.

Clambering carefully over rocks slick with water, they followed the stream and headed deeper into the wood.

'This is getting a bit boring now,' grumbled Jessica, looking around at the seemingly never-ending procession of tree trunks.

'I'll second that,' agreed George. 'Let's head back to the river'

They were about to turn around and head back when a faint smell wafted through the air.

Danielle sniffed the air. 'Can you smell smoke?'

George breathed deeply. 'Yes,' he answered. 'Someone's got a fire. Come on let's check it out.'

Up ahead the trees started to thin a little. Keeping low to the ground they crept up and peered through the low covering of shrubs and ferns that grew along the edge.