Wildewood Revenge by B.A. Morton Page B

sight then dismounted and hoisted Edmund up in front of Grace. He passed the reins of his horse to Edmund, gathered up the reins of the pony and headed for Wildewood . When they reached the point where they had first encountered the sheriff he stopped and gestured for Edmund to dismount, he had walked far enough. It was time for the boy to stretch his legs.
    “We will ride ahead, you will follow on foot with the pony. S he must be allowed to take her time or the lameness will be prolonged.” Edmund nodded, his disappointment at being left behind, and his anxiety regarding the sheriff, clearly evident in his pinched face.
    “How far must I walk before I reach Wildewood ?” he asked.
    Miles took him by his shoulders and pointed him west, towards the tree line of a great forest which cloaked the hill before them. He pointed then at a dark shape which could barely be made out, peeping above the canopy.
    “Do you see that, Edmund? There amongst the trees, do you see the stone of the tower?”
    “Yes, my lord.”
    “That is Wildewood , Edmund, my home, and yours too now. Our trail will be easy to follow through the snow.”
    “And what of yon beasts in the wood?” asked Edmund anxiously.
    Miles smiled. “I will ask them to let you pass safely.”
    He swung himself up behind Grace without comment, nodded once more to Edmund then kicked the horse into a canter. Despite the earlier altercation with Grace and the strange encounter with the sheriff, he was exhilarated. That glimpse of Wildewood had set his heart racing, it had been so long since he’d last seen it, and even the forest seemed more impenetrable. He wondered what he would find.
    Grace clung onto the front of the saddle as Miles urged the horse faster through the snow. The horse seemed to have caught Miles’ mood, picking up its pace and covering the distance to the tree line in long fluid strides. Soon they were in the forest with the trees closing in around them. Miles felt her alarm as she braced against him and for once he could understand where it came from. There was a sense of mystery and unease in the darkness between the trees. He slowed the horse and picked his way carefully.
    “Where is the path?” she asked eventually as it appeared Miles was riding into nowhere.
    It was the first time she’d spoken since leaving the sheriff and he guessed the words had slipped out accidently. He knew women; they could maintain a silence longer than any man for reasons known only to them. He smiled to himself. She had chosen to remain with him, despite her opportunity to escape. To be fair it wasn’t much of a choice and she’d obviously been influenced in his favour by the sight of the dead men, but he doubted the basis for her choice would be that straightforward.
    “The path is right here, you just have to know where it is.” He tightened his grip on her waist and felt her wriggle against him stubbornly. He tightened it further. He could be just as stubborn. As they broke through the trees into a large clearing he pulled the horse up sharply and paused to gaze at the place where he had spent his childhood; the place which held many happy memories and where he had first formulated his plans for revenge.
     

    Chapter Eleven
     
     
    Beyond the expanse of snow-covered parkland, Grace saw her first glimpse of Wildewood . Set against a background of impenetrable forest, the building was constructed from mellow cheviot stone and to Grace’s untutored eye, it best resembled a small castle or fortified house. A castellated tower stood to the western end of the building. At the centre of a high retaining wall a stout pair of wooden gates led to an inner courtyard. The gates were ajar hanging unevenly on massive, rusted hinges. Ivy cloaked the outer walls halfway up to the stone slab roof. Some of the straw thatch on the smaller, adjoining buildings had fallen in and young trees were beginning to push their way through. An air of neglect enshrouded the entire