The Battle for Duncragglin by Andrew H. Vanderwal Page B

had he heard that name before? Alex shook his head. “Not that I know of, sir.”
    Sir Ellerslie turned away. “Ah well, no need to fear the worst.”
    Alex was convinced Sir Ellerslie thought his parents were dead.
    Sir Ellerslie grabbed the dead man's ragged tunic and dragged him off the trail. “I'll send one of my men around to dig him under,” he said, giving the body a heave to roll it beneath low-hanging branches. “If the wolves don't get to 'm first.”
    He gestured into the woods. “Come. I'll take ye to our camp.”
    There didn't seem to be anything else to do. Confused and hesitant, Alex followed Sir Ellerslie, Craig at his side. He did not understand why the man would want to have the body buried, except maybe to keep animals from eating it before the police came. No, that did not make sense: it would not take long for the police to come – once they'd been called. Surely he wouldn't be trying to hide the body; surely the police would understand that Sir Ellerslie killed the thief only to save Alex and Craig? Alex wondered if Sir Ellerslie was wanted by the police. He
was
a bit strange, referring to himself as “Sir” Ellerslie as if he were some kind of nobility….

    Once deep in the forest, they were quite secluded. Sir Ellerslie did not follow anything that even remotely appeared to be a trail, yet he led them without hesitation. The forest seemed to go on forever. They wound around gnarly, sticky pines, over moss-covered boulders, and through ravines with tiny creeks filled with slippery rocks.
    Alex was relieved when they finally came upon a road.
    He hoped they could catch a ride with someone, or, at the very least, make faster and easier progress. At the edge of the road, Sir Ellerslie stopped abruptly. He had them stand still while he listened. Satisfied no one was coming, he had them quickly cross the road and wait while he used a pine branch to carefully brush away any sign of their footprints. To Alex's dismay, they then headed into even denser forest.
    For the most part, they hiked in silence. Sir Ellerslie had told Alex and Craig to avoid stepping on thin twigs that snap underfoot. At long last, Alex spotted a break in the trees. Craig wiped his brow with relief.
    Sir Ellerslie knelt on the forest floor and motioned for Alex and Craig to come nearer. “I need to have a spy at Hesselrigge's castle before we head to our camp,” he said. “I'll need ye to follow close behind me and do what I do. Above all, be very, very quiet – your lives depend on it.”
    As he crept from tree to tree, Craig exaggeratedly copied Sir Ellerslie's every movement. Sir Ellerslie didn't seem to mind, so long as Craig made no noise. The last few yards, they squirmed on their stomachs to the edge of the forest. Carefully, they parted the foliage.
    Alex gasped. Perched high on shoreline cliffs was a fully intact medieval castle, complete with flags fluttering from its many turrets and armored soldiers standing guard on tall battlemented walls. Behind it sparkled a bright blue sea.
    Alex gazed in awe, trying to imagine how, in an age prior to cannons, any army could take such a castle by force. Mere arrows and spears, or even catapults, could not possibly be a match for its massive walls.
    The countryside about the castle bustled with people. Farmers hoed small, irregular gardening plots. Carts trundled down dirt paths – some pulled by hand, others by oxen. Thatched dwellings clustered about an intersection where a meandering coastal road met the road coming from the forest.
    Surprisingly, despite the presence of so many in peasant and soldier costumes, there was no sign of tourists. Alex cupped his hand over Craig's ear. “Where are we?”
    Craig raised his palms and shrugged. “I don't know…. The cliffs look familiar though.”
    Now that he mentioned it, they did look a lot like the cliffs near the McRaes' farm. It appeared as if the castle had been built atop the very ruins of the former Duncragglin