Dusty Red ~ Part 17

I have a very sad proclamation to make: This is the very last blog post you will ever get on this blog....From a thirteen year old writer. Or, to put it another way, it's my Birthday before next Friday! Yipeee! I'm counting down the days, not many left now!
So really I guess the proclamation wasn't terribly sad after all. :)

This afternoon we're doing another singing at the nursing home thingy like we did back in April when the day became even more memorable for it's epic battle. So I'm sort of looking forward to that. (But not as much as my birthday.)

The votes last week came out with option 2 at the top with four votes, option 1 and 3 had two votes each. Thank you to all of my commenters, and I hope you enjoy the next part of Dusty Red!

Skilf’s face had taken on a rather greenish tinge and she seemed to be struggling to speak. 

“Oh yes,” she said eventually, “I know that place. It’s my Uncle’s manor.”

Flicks chewed her lip, “I guess that’s not such a good thing, is it.”

Skilf snorted, “It is not a good thing! If you knew my Uncle you’d never want to get within a kilometre of this place.”

Fred swished her tail, “But Nainsi knew your Uncle, right?”

“Yes, she did,” Skilf said, a frown creasing her brows.

“So,” Flicks drew the word out. “If she knew about him, why did she come this close?”

Larzik seemed to be ignoring their conversation completely and was looking at the ground, shuffling his feet and moving about the place as if looking for something.

Fred noticed his activity and tipped her head to one side, “What’s he doing?”

Flicks voiced the question so Larzik could hear, “What’re you doing, Larzik?”

The short Imp-Goblin looked up, “I’m a looking fer something.” Then he returned his graze to the ground.

Flicks raised her eyebrows at Fred. “That didn’t exactly answer the question,” she said to Larzik.

Larzik raised his head again. “There’s tracks here. Tracks of people going that way,” he gestured away from the direction of the castle. “But I haven’t found any coming back yet.”

Skilf was still trying to connect these facts in her mind when a loud, chilling laugh echoed around the trees. She knew that laugh all too well. “Uncle Cameron,” she whispered and promptly dived into a nearby bush.

Larzik disappeared almost as fast but Flicks had chosen the worst place possible to stand. If she moved at all the approaching men would see her, and if she stayed they’d walk right into her. Skilf looked on anxiously from the bushes, realising the awkward position Flicks was in, unsure if there was any way to help.

“What do I do?” Flicks whispered to Fred.

Fred raised her wings slightly, a dragon’s equivalent for shrugging, “I don’t see that there’s much you could do.”

“You should fly away, so they don’t see you too,” Flicks said.

“I shall not do any such thing,” Fred replied indignantly. “I’m staying right here. If you’re going to get into trouble you may find that having a dragon will be of some use.”

“At least try to hide in my hair,” Flicks begged as the footsteps and voices of Skilf’s Uncle and his men drew nearer.

Fred sniffed but buried herself under the dusty coloured hair, proving almost invisible. And just in time, because at that moment Lord Cameron and four of his men came into sight between the trees. 
Lord Cameron was a large man, tall and thickset. His nose was also rather on the large size and his face twisted in a permanent sneer. At the sight of Flicks he stopped short, and even at this distance Flicks could see his hard eyes holding a hint of surprised triumph.

Skilf’s Uncle overcame his surprise reasonable quickly and strode towards Flicks. “Ahhh, there you are, Skilf,” he said in a mockingly friendly voice. “I’ve been terribly worried that you’d got away.”

It took Flicks a second or so to realise why he’d called her Skilf, but really it wasn’t surprising as it had probably never occurred to him that there might be more than one person who looked like his niece. In the bushes Skilf winced, she’d been afraid that might happen, and who knew what Lord Cameron might do to try get Flicks to tell him where she’d put the Magic Rune Stones. It wasn’t a nice situation.

The tall lord loomed over Flicks who took a nervous step backwards, wondering desperately what Skilf would do in a situation like this. 

“We’ll,” Cameron said almost cheerfully. “I think we’d best get back home now. Have some dinner and maybe a little chat?”

Flicks licked her lips and shrugged, “Er, if you say so Un...” she stopped as Skilf shook her head furiously from behind the bush. 

“Thought as much,” Lord Cameron said, seeming not to notice Flicks’ hesitation. “We’ll be off.”
The soldiers, who had been silent during the conversation, now closed in around Flicks, leaving her no room to escape as they escorted her down the path. It gave Flicks the sinking feeling that she was being escorted to jail.

“The others are following us,” Fred whispered, even though the soldiers wouldn’t be able to hear her anyway. “Just keep playing along.”

“Right,” Flicks barely breathed the word but Lord Cameron turned.

“Who are you talking to?” he asked.

“No one,” Flicks assured him hurriedly. “Just thinking out loud.”

“So you say,” Cameron said suspiciously, but he turned nevertheless and led the way through the woods and towards a huge stone castle.

Flicks began to realise what Fred and Skilf were talking about when they spoke of the evil feel of the castle. The air was thick and heavy, almost sad air, ashamed of the people who breathed it. But the manor itself was like its master, filled with the enjoyment of nastiness.

Flicks shivered as a cold wind stirred the air. Lord Cameron looked over his shoulder once as they entered the castle through the imposing wooden doors. Inside Flicks saw several noblemen and women lounging around as her ‘uncle’ dismissed the soldiers and took her through numerous rooms and along corridors to a large and exquisitely furnished room. 

“The servants to bring some a platter of food along here in a moment, but while we wait for their arrival I’d like to know something,” Lord Cameron said, seating himself on a chair and gesturing for Flicks to do likewise.

“And that is?” Flicks asked, still nervous of making some accidental slip and giving herself away. She hadn’t quite decided what this Uncle of Skilf’s would do should he find out that she wasn’t his niece, but she was fairly sure it wouldn’t be nice.

“Where,” Cameron asked. “Did you get those ridiculous clothes?”

Flicks opened her mouth then closed it. She hadn’t expected a question like that, and so she had no idea whatsoever what to say. “I...got them...from...my...er...my....wardrobe,” she said, feeling sure that this was probably the worst answer she could give.

Lord Cameron raised his eyebrows. “Right,” was all he said, although he seemed disbelieving still. “And where have you been all this time?”

“I was out walking, Uncle Cameron,” Flicks replied. She hesitated then risked a question, “And you have had visitors?”

Lord Cameron lowered his brows Flicks got the impression that she had definitely said something wrong. A maid entered just then, carrying a large plate of food. Lord Cameron stood, “Call the guards please, and leave that on the table, I’ll have need of it shortly.” 

The startled maid dropped the tray on the table and ran from the room. Flicks didn’t wait to hear her squeaking voice inform the guards of their summons. She jumped up, “Call the guards? Why?”

Lord Cameron turned a scornful eye on her. “And I thought you were smart. To put it simply I’m afraid I’ll have to have you arrested for the time being. You should learn that sticking your nose in my business is just asking to get it shortened.”

~

1. Flicks opened her mouth to say something but Fred forestalled her, “Wait! Don’t say anything yet. I have a plan.”

2. Lord Cameron sneered at Flicks, “But since you asked, yes, I do have a visitor. I’m sure you’ll have heard of Prince Drakon Asesino? In case you haven’t, he’s the Heir of Manirus.”

3. Two soldiers entered the room and at a gesture from Lord Cameron seized Flicks. The huge lord smiled mirthlessly, “Anything you’d like to say before they lock you up?”

Flicks sighed, “Ice-cream. That’s what I want: Ice-cream.”

~

Disclaimer: It was because of several persons insistence that ice-cream was ever mentioned. It was not my idea. (But this is not saying it was a bad idea. Funny ideas are only rarely bad. Let's hope this wasn't one of the rare ones.)

Thanks to all for reading. I do look forward to Fridays, even if the writing can sometimes be hard at first, but when I actually start it gets easier. And it's good practice for me too!

Fare Thee Well! (For the final 13 year old time.)