THE ADVENTURES OF

LEM AND HIS PILLOW

 

A story for Phoebe

 

“The year’s at the Spring

And the day’s at the morn.”

 

Robert Cannon

 

 

 

The Adventures of Lem and His Pillow

 

Chapter 1        How the pillow was made – and went out into the world                   

Chapter 2        How the pillow was lost – and found again                                      

Chapter 3        How the pillow helped Lem win a great prize                                  

Chapter 4        How the pillow saved Lem from drowning                                             

Chapter 5        A terrible trap and a wonderful discovery                 

                        and The old man’s story – with a happy ending                            

Chapter 6         Lem finds a brother                                                                    

Chapter 7        How the pillow fought a great bull                                                  

Chapter 8        How the pillow went to prison                                                        

Chapter 9        How the pillow solved the mystery of the ghost

                        and Gwill’s story of the ghosts of Golden Hall                                

Chapter 10      How the pillow found the treasure                                                  

Chapter 11      How the pillow got its reward                                                        

Chapter 12      How the pillow was captured – and saved – in the mountains

                        and Caleb’s story – with a sad ending and a happy one                   

Chapter 13      How the pillow found its way home                                                 

Chapter 14      The return of the pillow and the geese                                              

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1 – How the pillow was made – and went out into the world

I

     Lem turned the key in the old lock, hung it round his neck, slipped it inside his jerkin and, taking a deep breath, stepped into the farmyard.  On his back was what looked like a parcel tied up in sacking and from his shoulder hung a large pouch that contained everything he thought he might need for his journey.

     The air was fresh. It was early spring and on the fields the snow had almost disappeared. But Lem knew that his path lay far beyond the mountains that still glistened with a cold, brilliant white in the sunshine. He stopped and looked around him. It was all so familiar – the warm, welcoming farmhouse, although empty now, the barn, the dairy and the animal pens. But this morning he saw it all with new eyes, almost as if it were for the first time – and he looked at it hard, as if to make sure that whatever happened and wherever he went, he would never forget a single bit of it.

     He started off on the familiar road towards the town where he and his family had gone every week to sell their produce at the market. But after a while the road divided and this was where he had to turn off in a completely new direction. Every now and then he spotted someone working in the fields and he would call out and ask if this was the right way to the mountains.

     “Oh yes” one of them said, and came over to him. “Look over there. See that dip, like a letter ‘U’? That’s the pass that goes through the mountains to the South. Just keep your eye on that and you can’t go wrong.”

     How far is it?” Lem asked.

     “If you keep up a good pace you should get there tomorrow afternoon.”

     On he went. Lem did keep up a good pace, and by evening he felt very tired and started to look for somewhere to sleep for the night. He had very little money and hoped something would turn up that he could afford. Not far off he spotted a barn next to a farmhouse, just like the one at home. He went up to the door and knocked. It was opened by a big, ruddy-faced man.

     “What do you want at this hour” he asked suspiciously.

     “Please, I have been walking since early morning. I’m on my way south, going over the mountains. I hoped it might be possible to bed down in your barn tonight. I can pay – a little.”

     The man smiled and turned round.

     “Wife!” he called. “Can we let this young chap sleep in the barn, do you think? He’s been walking all day!”

     The farmer’s wife appeared and after looking Lem up and down said –

     “He’d better ask the cows first!”

     She watched as Lem’s face fell – and then went on –

     “I think he’d better come in and sleep in the kitchen – near the fire. How about that instead?”

     “Oh thank you” said Lem, “but – ”

     “No, no, no” said the farmer. “Of course we wouldn’t take anything for it. You look exhausted – and no wonder with that enormous parcel on your back! It must weigh a ton.”

     “Not really” said Lem.

     “Come on now” the farmer replied, “look at the size of it. Here, let me help you” and he spun Lem round and undid the straps on his back.

     “Goodness!” he exclaimed. “Whatever have you got in here? Feathers?” and he laughed, throwing the pack up in the air and catching it with one hand.

     “Yes, in a way” said Lem.

     “What do you mean?” he asked.

     “It’s a pillow. A special pillow”

     “A pillow!” they both exclaimed. “Why?”

     “I could tell you” Lem answered, “but it’s rather a long story.”

     “Well, never mind” said the farmer’s wife. “You come in and have something to eat and then a good sleep. You’ve another long day’s walk ahead of you tomorrow 

     The next morning the farmer and his wife made sure Lem had breakfast and then, wishing him well, waved him on his way. Just as he turned onto his road, he heard the farmer’s wife calling –

     “You never did tell us about that pillow!” to which the farmer added “And are you sure you can manage it all on your own?” and the sound of their laughter followed him a good long way as he walked on with his eyes fixed on the mountains ahead.

II

     As the man had said, the pass Lem was aiming for was like a great letter ‘U’ set in the mountains. On one side they were really big, reaching up into the clouds, and these were the ones that Lem had been able to see from his farm. On the other side they were much lower, gently rising up to their tops. But these hid their own danger, because on the other side there was no equally gentle slope, but a sheer drop down the side of a cliff. 

     It was on the lower side of the pass that there stood an inn used by travellers going south to the cities along the river that flowed from the mountain streams. It was run by a husband and wife who lived there with their two children, a little boy and girl. The wife had come from the town where she had made clothes that were famous for their bright colours. In the winter, when very few people came that way and stayed at the inn she spent her time making the same clothes and taking them down to the town markets in the spring.

     The children loved nothing better than to run out into the meadows and forests that stretched around the inn.  In the summer their father would warn them

   “Do not go further than you can see the house.”

     To which their mother added “ And do not stay out later than  you can see the sun.”

     In winter things were very different.  The snow lay deep everywhere – and then the children wanted to go out with their sledge, each pulling the other in turn over the fields and up the slopes so that they could sit together and race down as fast as they could. Then their father would say –

   “Do not go further than you can see the smoke from our chimney.”

     And their mother added “And do not stay out later than you can see the light sparkling on the snow.”

III

   That day they went as far as they could and still see the smoke curling up from the chimney, and then they pulled the sledge up to the top of a steep slope. Hot and shining they sat down and looked out over the white land – towards the town – even though it was too far to actually see.  In any case they could have gone no further, because where they sat was not so much the top of a hill but a ridge that dropped straight down a steep cliff that no climber, however skilled, would have wanted to try.  There they sat and ate their midday meal, and when they had finished, they took care to scatter the crumbs where the birds could find them and, sure enough, down one flew to help himself.  One, and then another and still more. Then suddenly, as though from nowhere, a great flock of eider geese circled overhead and swooped down, frightening and scattering the other birds, with such a rush that the snow whirled up from the ground, flurrying around the children. The geese rushed about and landed pushing the startled children apart, deafening them with their squawks and loud cries as they settled and pecked up the crumbs.  Then, just as suddenly they swooped back up into the air.  But when the snow had settled again and the girl looked around for her brother, he was nowhere to be seen.

   Frightened and trembling she called his name, but there was no reply. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.  Then, as she stood desperately looking one way and then another, she heard him.  He sounded far away – but surely, he could not be.

   Slowly she turned round and when she heard his voice again she followed it to the edge of the ridge and, kneeling carefully on the rock, looked down the cliff face.  And there he was, fallen onto a narrow ledge.

   “I have hurt my leg badly, and my back aches a lot” he called up “but I think I am safe here.”

   “How can I get you up?” she said.

   “You will have to fetch father” he called.

   “But soon it will be dark. I can’t leave you here.”

   “You must. Go now, while there is still some light.  I shall be safe enough here.  But I do ache badly.”

   What could she do? She was too upset and afraid to be able think.  In the end she simply stared around her, hoping that an answer might appear. Then, far in the distance, she saw a speck coming towards her.  At first it looked like a dot moving over the snow.  It grew bigger and bigger and soon she could see that it was a young man with a big package on his back.

     She started to shout and wave her arms but the figure seemed not to have seen her. Then, just as she was about to give up, it stopped and turned towards her and waved back. 

     Lem hurried as fast as he could, but the slopes were still deep in snow and it was hard going. When he eventually reached the top he was red in the face and terribly hot.

     “I’m sorry” he panted, “I got here as fast as I could.”

     “Oh thank you! Thank you!” said the girl. “He’s down there, and he’s badly hurt, and – ”

     “Who is?” asked Lem.

     “My brother. He must have lost his balance and fallen when the geese flew down and w couldn’t see where anything was.”

     “Show me” said Lem calmly, and the girl led him to the edge of the cliff. The boy lay on a narrow ledge, very still now and just able to hold onto a scrubby bush that grew out of the rock face. He was deathly white and obviously in great pain.

     “Can you hear me?” Lem called.

     The boy nodded his head slightly.

     “Can you try to stand?”

     The boy shook his head.

     “I think he’s broken his leg” the girl said.

     The ledge was about fifteen feet from the top. Lem would have to climb down there and, somehow, bring the boy up. He needed a rope. The children’s sledge had a good stout rope fixed to it which the children used to pull one another along. Lem undid it and tied one end to a pine tree that was growing near the edge. Next, he undid his parcel and put the string inside his jerkin.

     “Now” he said, “I’m going to use this rope to let myself down to your brother. You must watch where I have tied it to the tree and shout if it starts to loosen. Then, when I begin to come up, stand as close as you can to the edge to help us when we reach the top.”

     “Won’t that be terribly dangerous for you?” the girl asked anxiously.

     “It won’t be easy. But if you can do what I just said then I hope we will manage it.”

     Lem let the rope down over the edge so that it dangled where the boy lay. Then he eased himself over the edge and started to climb down. He held the rope tight and carefully felt about for somewhere to put his foot.

     “Look out!” the girl cried – and Lem realised just in time that what had felt like rock was just a bird’s nest that crumbled away as soon as he put his weight on it.

     On he went, grabbing onto tufts of grass and plants growing in the crevices to stop himself swinging about. Then after what seemed an age he reached the ledge where he was just able to set his feet on either side of the boy. And now Lem could look down – and see that the cliff was at least three hundred feet high with a sheer drop onto piles of jagged boulders at the base. There was no room for any mistake!

     “Can you hear me?” he asked.

     “Yes” the boy whispered.

     “I’m going to get you up to the top” Lem said quietly, “but we will have to do it slowly and very carefully. Only do what I tell you. Do you understand?”

     Lem held the rope with one hand and with the other he reached down and took hold of the boy’s clothes.

     “Now I’m going to pull you up” he said. “If you can, try to stand on your good leg. That will help. Gently now – one, two three!” and he pulled the boy up so that he was facing him. There was barely enough room and Lem had to slide back until his heels were right over the edge.

     “Now we’re going to go up together. This string is quite strong but it’s only there to help keep us together. If you can, try to put your arms around me and hold on tight.”

     Then, inch by inch, Lem began to climb using the toe-holds in the rock, and the rope to pull them up and anything growing out of the rock face to help steady them.

     “Is the rope holding” Lem called.

     “Yes” the girl shouted, “but it’s rubbing very hard against the edge. Please hurry!”

     Hurry was the one thing Lem couldn’t do. Luckily the boy was very light and was able to cling on as he had been asked. It was terribly difficult, dangerous and very hard going. But eventually Lem reached up and took hold of the edge and then, with one last effort heaved both of them up to safety.

   How long it had taken to rescue the boy they had no idea.  But by now it was dark and the snow had begun to fall all around them.  The boy was in pain: his leg, back and neck ached terribly.  Lem opened the package he had been carrying, and inside – was his pillow, soft and smooth. He lay the boy upon it on the sledge and immediately he felt more comfortable and the pain seemed to ease.

   The girl knew her way back home despite the dark and the snow.  But they arrived only just in time to stop their mother and father going out in a desperate search for them. When they saw the little girl and the stranger pulling the sledge – and the boy able to wave to them as they approached the house – they simply burst into tears from sheer relief to have the children back safe again. And when the girl described what had happened – and how Lem had actually rescued her brother – they almost fainted thinking of what might so easily have happened.  Eventually they recovered and simply took hold of both Lem’s hands and, it seemed, would never let them go or stop thanking him!

IV 

   The mother and father knew at once who he was.

   “You must be Lem,” the mother said. “I remember you from the market. Goodness, you still have the jacket and the trousers I made” she said with a big smile.

     “Yes” he replied, “I am sure we all do.  They are our best clothes.”

     “But why are you wearing them now – out here in the mountains?”

     “I have set off, out into the world. And I want to be seen at my best.”

     “But what about your grandmother – and your brothers and sisters?” she asked.

     “That is a long story” Lem replied.

     “I’m sure it is. But we would like to hear it.  We were always very fond of you all. And now you are even more important to us. Please. What has happened? Tell us – where are you going – and,” she could not help adding “ why are you taking this pillow with you?”

Lem’s Story of How the pillow was made

1

     “There were nine of us living on our farm – my two brothers and three sisters, our mother and father, and our dear grandmother. She loved us all – but very special to her as well were her eider geese. Their feathers were so white that when the sun shone on them she said it looked as though the whole farm had turned to gold. Their eggs fed us and when they grew older and plumper, they made us all a hearty supper, and all the farms around could hear us laughing and singing late into the night.  Then, when everyone else had  gone to bed, our grandmother would sit by the dying fire and gathered together all the feathers that she had plucked from the goose and rocked gently in her chair, stroking and smoothing them until they were soft and even.  Then, holding them with both hands, she carried them over to an old chest and carefully laid them in the lowest of its three great drawers.

   “One day the right use for them will come to me” she used to say.

     As we grew up our mother and father thought that it was time for us to learn to read and write and know our numbers. But because we lived too far from the town to be able to attend school they decided to have a teacher to live with us and teach us.

   “Why should they need all that?” our grandmother asked. “I can teach them numbers – just by counting the geese. What more do they need than that?”

   “The world is changing” our father replied “and there is more to it than counting geese.”

   “Besides” said our mother, “one day each of them will have a husband or a wife – and who knows what they may need to do?”

   “Is the world really changing so fast?” our grandmother asked. “It seems that I will be left behind and not know who I am any more or know what to do.”

   “That will never be” they both replied, “for your goodness and kindness comfort us all – in the cold days, and the hungry days and when any sadness comes.”

   “Perhaps” she said, with a heavy sigh. “It may be so. But you must go off and find a teacher who can teach them what the world may need.”

   The next day our mother and father kissed us and then, with food for their journey and warm blankets to keep warm, they climbed onto the sleigh and were off.  Every minute one or the other looked back to wave and we stood waving until they were far out of sight.  Then our grandmother gently turned us towards the house and in we went for our supper – quiet and each of us thinking what they might do until our mother and father returned.

   Every day we waited, then week after week and month after month until in our hearts we knew that they were never coming back.  After a long time we eventually learnt that their sleigh had become lost in a terrible storm and buried in the snow. But although the sleigh had been found, there was no sign of them at all.

   In the farmhouse now there was an empty room and a quiet sorrow that each of us got used to and lived with.  But however sad we felt, as our father and their mother had said, our grandmother’s goodness and kindness helped to heal our sorrow. And in this way we lived and grew together – mixing a little sadness with our young joys and laughter.

2

   As before, every evening, after supper, my sisters spun yarn and wove cloth, while we boys carved figures of animals and wooden spoons to sell in the market together with our farm produce. At the fair no one passed our stall without saying “Well, the clothes and spoons and figures are very fine, but the handsome boys and beautiful girls – well – just look at them!” And the young townsfolk stopped and looked – and thought that each had seen their perfect bride or groom. And it must have been true, because, one by one, our grandmother saw her grandsons and granddaughters married.  Then, each time the old woman gave the young couple eider geese as a present and said –

   “As you know, these will give you eggs to eat and later meat for a feast. And when that happens, do as I have done.  Take the feathers and smooth them into a fine, soft down and one day, when you have a child of your own send them somehow to me so that I will know your good fortune.”

     As time passed, the eider-goose feathers began to arrive at the farmhouse. Each time our grandmother smiled knowing that her granddaughters and grandsons had not forgotten her.  Then she and I, her last grandson, opened the old chest and added the eider-down to what was already there.

3

     One day, she turned to her me and said –

   “Tomorrow is market day. I am too old to travel so far, but you must go and sell our wares.”

   “No, grandmother” I replied, “I cannot leave you. You need my help.”

   “But we still need the money from the market,” she replied.

   Sadly I looked at her and my eyes filled with tears. I knew that she could not be left alone and that, in truth, she had not long to stay upon this earth.

   The very next day when I woke at daybreak I found her still in bed – something that had never happened before.

   “I feel so tired” she said. “For the first time in my life I could not sleep. The bed seemed, somehow, uncomfortable. I feel so tired and full of aching.”

   I made her something warm to drink and tried to make her more comfortable. Then I thought:  “The eider feathers. Surely if anything might comfort her that smooth, soft down would.” Then, as she finally fell asleep, I went to the chest and took out the eider feathers. I put them carefully in a pillow case plume by plume until it lay there, plump and soft.

   Silently I went back into my grandmother’s room and stood a moment watching the old woman drawing breath with difficulty and slowly turning from side to side searching for a comfortable position. I lifted her head, pulled out her old, worn pillow and slipped the new one under her. Deep in her sleep she smiled.

   At last, when she woke, she felt surprised at how well she had slept and how refreshed she felt.  Then she understood.

   “Come into my room” she called, and in I came, a little nervous.

   “Bless you, child,” she said. “All my life I saved those eider feathers, waiting for the right use for them. But I could never think what it might be. Each feather is a bit of my life – from when I was a young girl, then first married, and then a mother and a widow and a grandmother.  All my children and grandchildren – and great-grand-children are here. And now, when I am very old, you have thought how best to use them – to bring peace and comfort to me with this pillow. Come here now.  Kiss me, and when I have no more need of it, take it with you and keep it – keep the memory of how you comforted me with it as you go out into the world.”

     “And that is what I have decided to do – go out into the world and try to find my brothers and sisters and see if I can somehow make us into a family again. That is what I am sure my grandmother would have wanted.”

 

 V

     Now that they had heard Lem’s story everyone agreed that what he was doing was right, for himself, his brothers and sisters – and his grandmother’s memory. But by now everyone was tired.  The boy was laid on his bed half asleep but he would not shut his eyes until they had set the pillow under his head.

   “It so comforted me and helped me,” he said, “please do not take it away.”

   Then it was the girl’s turn to go to bed.  But first the father said:

   “How brave you were, staying there up on the ridge until help came. What can we do to make something special for you.

   The girl looked round her and thought of all the things she might ask for. Finally she just said –

   “Please, may I go to sleep beside my brother on the pillow that gave him so much comfort.  I should like to go to sleep and know that he is safe and when I wake that we will be together – always.”

   “Always is a very long time” said Lem. “Already in my young life I have seen so much change that I had thought would be for ever.  My brothers and my sisters were married and went away, until only I was left with my grandmother.  And then one day she too was there no more, leaving me this pillow that has done you so much good.”

 

 

 VI

   And so, all that night the children slept a deep, healing sleep. Then, in the morning, when the sun was already climbing into the sky, they woke – and it was as if the fearful things that had happened yesterday were a dream.

   “Now” said Lem “I must be on my way.”

   “Yes” said the mother, “but not before I have given you this

   “There” she said. “A proper cover for your pillow. It deserves it.  Without it I do not believe our son could ever have travelled back so far and we might have lost him for ever. 

   Lem slipped the pillow into its new case and wrapped it up again. Then he hung it over his shoulders and went over to the door.

    “Thank you for your kind words and this marvellous case for my pillow. It will help keep is safe so it can make my journey more comfortable – and perhaps help others along the way.”  

   “Let us hope so” the mother and father said. Then Lem bent down and kissed the children before they opened the door and waved as he walked off to see what else there was to find in the world. 

 

 

Chapter 2 – How the pillow was lost – and found again

I

   In the town there were more people than you could ever think there would be, and where they all lived and where they slept and – just what they were doing and where they were going – was impossible to think about. Everywhere something was happening. There were stalls selling everything imaginable: pins and pots and pans, shoes and shirts, fish and fancy frills for hats and hoods and  – in a word, everything.  And when you finished looking and asking and buying, then you could sit yourself down and eat and drink as much as you wanted at a little table in a snug inn or at a long table out of doors in the sunshine and watch all the hustle and bustle in the great town and its fair. If you chose to sit out of doors then you would be sure to be entertained as well.  Singers and dancers, with fiddle and pipes and tambourines stopped every few minutes wherever where people were sitting to have a meal.  They called out and banged their drum until everybody was looking – and then began to sing and dance, waving coloured streamers and bright hats.  Then, when they finished, the youngest of them would take off his or her cap so that the listeners could throw a few coins into it to thank them. Then, banging their drum again, off they went to find their next audience.

 II

   Lem had arrived at the city gates early that morning and everything had seemed as quiet as the little town where he and his brothers and sisters had gone every week.  But as he walked on, so he had met with more and more people.  As he walked he saw all sorts of things that took his interest – but to get to them he had to push and shove and almost fight his way through the crowd.  And all of this was made harder because on his back he carried his great parcel, which had in it all his worldly goods – and his grandmother’s pillow.

   “Hey! Watch out there” someone shouted. “Take care or you’ll knock us all down with that great pack.”

   “I’m sorry” Lem called back, “I don’t know what to do for the best. I can’t stand still all day long.”

   “No, of course.  But where are you going? Are those goods to sell?”

   No. They are everything I own and I am going – “

   “But where?”

     And Lem did not know quite what to say.  All around him everyone seemed so sure about what they were doing and where they were going.  Suddenly he felt, not that he had lost his way, but that he did not really have a way at all.

   “Where? Where am I going?”

   The man who was shouting – trying to make himself heard above all the noise – could see either that Lem was foolish, which he did not seem to be – or else that he was truly lost and confused.  So, he pushed his way close to him and caught hold of his sleeve.

   “Come on. Let’s go somewhere quiet so that I can at least hear what you’re saying” he said.

 III

   What a kind man! He could see that Lem was hungry and thirsty, so he took him and sat him down at one of the great trestle tables and ordered him breakfast. Then, when Lem had eaten and drunk his fill – and thanked the man over and over again – Lem told him who he was and where he came from, where he had travelled and how he had helped save the little boy who had fallen down the cliff.

   “Well, that was certainly a good turn” the man said, “and you deserve another – and I am glad that I am the one to do it.  But still you have not told me what you are doing here and where you are going.”

   “The truth” said Lem, “is that I do not know.  I had thought the world was like our little village and its nearby town, and I thought it was an easy thing to go, as they say, out into the world.  But now that I have seen this great place and all its people and its houses and streets and everything – I can see that the world is no such easy place.  And I only know that I am lost in every way.”

   “Well,” the man cried “before anything else, you need somewhere to sleep, at least for tonight, and then you need to find a way to live.  Tell me, what can you do?”

   “I have always done anything and everything. At home, when my grandmother still lived, I swept and cleaned and cooked and chopped the wood – and every morning I counted the geese out and every night I counted them back in again.  But our parents always said that that was not enough and that we should have a teacher to teach us the things that the wide world would ask of us – and I think they were right, seeing this great city as it is.”

   “Yes and no” said the man, “But for now I think I can make good use of all the things  you can already do. Here, in the middle of the city, I have an inn – and what I need most is a young man who can, as you say, sweep and clean and cook and chop the wood and even do a little counting as the guests come and go and pay for their lodging.”

   “I could certainly do all of that – but still I have nowhere to sleep and nothing on which to live.”

   The man laughed. “You shall sleep at the inn, and for all your work you will be paid – and in that way you will live.  Who knows what a young man like you  may be able to do in time?”

     Then, taking Lem by the arm, the man led him through the busy streets to an inn that stood facing a little square with high trees and a pump in the middle. Then, opening a great wooden door he showed him in. 

   So Lem found work for himself and found good pay. It was hard work – but that he was used to, and when the work was done there was so much to see and do in the city that he was never idle and had never a dull moment from morn to night.  

 IV 

   But one day something happened that almost spoiled everything.    Lem had been at the inn for a month when, quite late in the evening, he heard a sharp knock at the door. Everything had been put away, and Lem was taking a rest with his feet up by the fire, eating a biscuit and drinking a large mug of cocoa.  It was his turn to be on duty after all the guests had gone to bed.

   Lem loved this quiet time: sitting there comfortably and thinking about life before he came to the city – about his grandmother and his brothers and sisters , and about all the things he had seen and done since he arrived – and about what he might do in the future.  Half thinking and half asleep, he was in a lovely dreamy state, when he heard that sharp knock on the door.

   Although it was late and everyone else was asleep, Lem thought, “This must be a weary traveller who needs somewhere for the night.  Come along Lem, up you get.”

   The knock came again, and Lem called out:

   “Wait a moment please.  Everyone is asleep here. Just wait” and he carefully drew back the bolts and turned the great old-fashioned key and slowly pulled the door open.  What he saw gave him a real turn – not so much of fright as astonishment, or at least, it was a sight that truly astonished him.  For there, piled up on the stone step were five people – all dressed the same and who all looked the same.  The same coloured hair and eyes, the same noses and mouths, and the same ears and chins.  They all stood, one behind the other, peeping over each other’s shoulder, elbowing each other to get a better look inside the inn and – what made it difficult for Lem, was that they all talked at once, interrupting, calling out and laughing in an excited way that turned everything they said into a kind of stew of words all being served up at once.

   Eventually he recovered himself and blurted out “Who are you? It’s very late you know”, and of course he should have been much politer and welcoming than that but – well, it was very late!

   “We are the Tumblies – “

   “The Tumbling Tumblies – “

   “But our real name is Walter – “

   “We are the Walters who are the Tumbling Tumblies.”

   One after another they called out who they were – and then they all started talking at the same time –

   “We are so tired -” said the first

   “ – and the coach had a broken wheel – ” added the second –

   “ – it was the hole in the road – ” added the third –

   “ – and we all had to get out – ” said the fourth –

   “ – and push” cried the fourth –

   “ – and-we-are-all-covered-in-mud-and-tired-and-late-and-and-and – ”  and here the fifth, who talked all joined up and in a rush to make sure he could say everything he wanted without the others butting in, stopped to draw breath.  But in any case they all finished together:

   “We need a bed!”

 V

   That was a bit of a problem.  The inn was full and, in any case, it didn’t have five small rooms for all five of the Tumblies – or, for that matter, a room big enough for five beds. But the Tumblies explained that all they needed was one big bed, and that they would sleep head to toe, three at the top and two at the bottom, and be quite happy.

   “We are quite used to it” the first said –

   “We like it” said the second –

   “Except when we have had a busy day” called out the third –

   “Because then our feet get smelly” shouted the fourth –

   “ Unless-we-have-been-able-to-have-a-good-wash” and when the fifth ran out of breath, they all cried –

   “So. Do you have one?”

      “Well, we do,” said a voice.  The innkeeper stood there, afraid that he might lose a lot of customers – and in any case feeling sorry for the tired Tumblies. “Lem” he said quietly, “we could let them have your room and your bed – just for the night.  After all, you won’t be using it because it’s your turn to keep watch.”

   Lem could not disagree – although he was not too happy – but only for one reason.

   “Do we have enough pillows?”

   “Surely they can use yours – just for one night. It is about the biggest pillow I have ever seen – and they can use mine at the other end – I’ll make do.”

   Again Lem could not disagree, although he was far from happy.  It wasn’t an ordinary pillow, after all.  It was a special pillow, that his grandmother  had given him to take out into the world.  But then he remembered that she had given it to him because of all the comfort it had given her – and the comfort it had given the little boy who had fallen down the cliff.  And he thought –

   “These poor Tumblies, so tired out by their journey – surely they deserve the pillow after all. And in any case, it is just for one night.”

 

 VI 

   But it wasn’t.  The Tumblies found that the city was full of people who loved nothing better than to rest from their work and watch the marvellous jumping and leaping and flying-through-the-air and catching-one-another, as well, of course as tumbling.   And at the end of each performance, when they passed round the cap for a collection, it came back full every time.  The Tumblies loved it and they loved their room at the inn and they were so comfortable in their bed and, more than anything, they loved their smooth, soft, deep pillow.

   But what about poor Lem? Well, the innkeeper did not know quite what to do.  He could not exactly tell the Tumblies to go – and he did not really want to. They paid handsomely for the bed and their breakfast and dinner every day. But what about poor Lem?

    “Lem,” the innkeeper said, “here we are in a pickle.  But there are good things about it too. I have an idea that I think you will like.  Let us keep the Tumblies for as long as they wish.  After all, they pay well, day after day. As for you – you must sleep on the comfortable settle that stands in front of the great fire – where it’s all warm and cosy.  But, for your trouble, I shall pay you twice as much as before.  Think of that.”

   Lem understood well enough.  But the extra money was not the most important thing.  The most important thing was – of course – the pillow. Who in the whole world knew what a special pillow it was – and why it was so very special?  Who would care for it, and look after it as he did?  Only he knew that in a secret way, the pillow belonged to his grandmother, and that was why it brought great comfort to anyone who used or needed it?

   After the first night, Lem asked the innkeeper if he could find another pillow – an ordinary one – for the Tumblies. 

   “Well, if it really means so much to you,” said the innkeeper.  “After all, you are a splendid help to me.  Just go and make sure what size they really need.”

   Lem went up to his old room where the Tumblies now slept.  Carefully he knocked on the door and peeped in. It almost broke his heart to see the two heads, with three pairs of feet, one on each side and another in between, all resting on his pillow.  Still, he pulled himself together and asked, in a quiet voice

   “Hello there.”

   “Yes?” five voices said as the Tumblies turned towards him.

   “Can I ask you something, please?”

   “Of course – ” said the first Tumbly

   “Speak, please – ” – said the second

   “What can we do for you? – ” asked  the third

   “Speak up young man – ” called out the fourth

   “Come-in-then-and-say-what-you-want-because-we’ve-had-a-long-day-and-we’ve-got-another-one – ” and the fifth Tumbly ran out of breath as usual.

   “Well,” said Lem “We all hope that you are quite comfortable in your room.”

   “Quite,” they all shouted together.

   “And comfortable in your bed?”

   “Comfortable enough!” they all shouted again.

   “And – and – ”

   “What?” they cried.

   “And that your pillows are – satisfactory?”

   “Satis –what?” the first asked.

   “I mean the pillow at the bottom end of the bed.  You see – it is mine and it was my grandmother’s and – ”

   “Yes?” asked the second.

   “It is very dear to me – ”

   “Well?” called out the third.

   “I hoped so much that you would not mind if – ”

   “If, if, if what?” shouted the fourth.

   “If I might change it for another one – a better, longer one, a brand new one.”

   The five Tumblies simply rolled back over again and left the fifth one to simply answer with a loud

   “No-We-like-it-and-we-don’t-like-change-and-we-have-made-up-our-minds and – ”

   “No!” they all cried together. And that was that.

   Poor Lem.

 VII

   A few days later Lem was sent off to buy things needed for the inn.  When he got back it was quite late in the afternoon and as he opened the door and started taking in his baskets and packets, he saw the innkeeper standing in the middle of the parlour, and looking mightily pleased with himself.

   “Here, let me give you a hand” he said, and started helping Lem carry all the goods in.  “There’s good news, Lem,” he said. “Your room is free again.  Those Tumblies have gone – and I am hoping that nothing and no one as noisy comes here again. Although, I must admit that they paid well.  Five paying each and just for the one room!”

   But Lem didn’t hear his last words.  He ran straight up the stairs – of course to find his pillow.  It wasn’t on the bed and it wasn’t under it.  It wasn’t in the cupboard and it wasn’t on top of it. It wasn’t on the bench and it wasn’t behind it. It wasn’t anywhere to be seen!

   Lem started to cry.  He had waited patiently for so long and now just as he thought everything was back to where it had been, it was worse than ever.  Slowly he went back down to the parlour and told the innkeeper what had happened.

   “Ah, well, you ran upstairs a bit too soon” he said. “When those Tumblies came down stairs with all their clothes and things bundled up, they paid everything they owed and then they said they had something more, just for you. Look, here it is – a piece of gold, a coin with the king’s head on it!  Believe me – it is a rare thing and I suggest you keep it safe and put it away for when you might need it.  I know you looked after them well and with great kindness – but tell me what has upset you.” 

     There was a long pause.  Lem didn’t know what to say. “I suppose they must have taken your old pillow and left this coin.  I must say, it seems a fair exchange to me.”

   But Lem again did not hear his last words. He ran, this time to the door to see if he could spot the Tumblies.  But when he couldn’t he rushed out into street and began asking if anyone had seen them pass.

 VIII

   In fact it wasn’t too hard to find where the Tumblies had gone.  In every part of the city where they had stopped to perform people remembered them and were able to tell Lem in which direction they had moved on.

   So for the next few days Lem followed the Tumblies, always a little behind them, but, he felt, slowly catching up.  Then he found them.  They were in the middle of their performance and a great crowd was gathered as usual.  There they were, leaping over one another, jumping up into each other’s arms and onto one another’s shoulders, walking on great round balls and high strung ropes, whirling about and catching one another with arms and legs flying in all directions.

    Eventually the performance ended and the cap was taken round.  Everybody dropped into it what they could – little coins and big ones, bright shiny ones and dull used ones.  Until, eventually, the cap came to Lem.  When the Tumbly – it was number three that afternoon – saw him he stopped and stared as Lem slowly took out his golden coin and held it over the cap.

   “That is a great deal of money young fellow” said Tumbly number three, and he looked up. “Oh, it’s you” he said.

   “Yes” said Lem.

   “And?” said number three.

   “This is for my pillow back” Lem answered with as much courage as he could – which he felt he could do because he knew that he was in the right.  And then the Tumbly looked as if he wasn’t quite well. First, he went red, and then he went a bit redder.  Then he looked up, then he looked down and then he started to look around, as though he hoped that someone or something would magically appear and help him.  But no one did.

   “You knew that it was my special pillow that my grandmother had made and given to me.  You knew that I did not want to lose it or sell it.  And I must have it back!”

   “Well now” said the Tumbly regaining his usual colour and some of his dignity, “that may all be true. But you can’t put a price on something just because of a kind old woman who made it.  In any case, we need it.   Ours is a hard life. We tumble, after all, and sometimes we fall badly and hurt ourselves.  We are all black and blue with bruises and they ache and are very sore – so we need a soft, smooth pillow – and yours is the best we have ever found.  In any case, the innkeeper sold it and we paid for it fair and square.  And that’s that.  Sorry.”

IX

   There are things in this world that have to be done and they are not always quite what people call ‘right’.  What is right – and what is wrong – can change and you always have to think for yourself.  Lem found himself in just this position now.  It was true that the Tumblies had been sold the pillow and had paid for it.  It was also true that the pillow was doing them good.  But it was true, too, that the innkeeper had had no right to sell the pillow and it was finally true that the Tumblies knew that Lem wanted it and would never have agreed to sell it – at any price.

   All of this was true! But what was right? Lem thought and thought – and every time he got stuck, trying to see through all the different ways of looking at what had happened.  Then he remembered his grandmother’s last words to him:

   “Kiss me, and when I have no more need of the pillow, take it with you – and keep it – keep its memories to comfort you as you have comforted me as you go out into the world.”

   “How can I let it go?” he asked himself. “How can I not do as my grandmother said?  And they all know that that is true – the innkeeper and all the Tumblies.  It is wrong for them to have it. It must be wrong, even though they paid a lot for it.  And it is wrong for me not to have it and care for it.”

   So he knew what he had to do.  Over the next few days he followed the Tumblies carefully and found out where they were staying.  Then, using what he had learned in the inn, he got himself a job, working as before – sweeping and cleaning and cooking and chopping wood.  Of course one of the jobs he was given after a few days was to see to the Tumblies’ room – although he took good care not to be seen by them.

   There he found his pillow, lying in the Tumblies’ bed, at the bottom end – and looking a rather sad, with its coloured cover all creased and crushed and the pillow itself quite flattened by all those heads and feet!  Just the sight of it gave Lem the courage to do what he now knew was right.  He picked the pillow up, wrapped it into a parcel and, pulling off his work apron, ran quickly down the stairs, opened the heavy oak door and with one bound was out in the street and, what was more,  out in the world once more.

Chapter 3 – How the pillow helped Lem win a great prize

 I

    In those times everyone loved to hear a song with beautiful words.  The people who made them were also loved, and on any occasion when work stopped – and sometimes even while the work was still going on – they would call for someone who knew how to sing. It could be for a special occasion – someone’s birthday, or a holiday – but it could also be when they simply stopped for lunch.  It didn’t matter, just so long as there were a few free minutes and, of course, someone who knew how.

   And that was especially true of the Royal city that stood on the banks of a wide river where they tried to make sure that the best and loveliest songs were written and sung.  They listened carefully when anyone  started to sing – and they encouraged them if they felt they needed it.  If they were truly awful – then, as kindly as they could manage, they would suggest ways to improve – and hinted that they should do it for themselves, indoors, until they were doing it better.

     Each year they held a great festival at which a prize was given to the best singer.  It was held in the square facing the king’s palace, and anyone who wished could come and listen – and anyone could come and take part and be chosen to sing in front of the whole people.  There were prizes too: a purse of gold, a suit of velvet and a warm fur hat.  But this year there was a difference.  The king had a daughter, and she, like everyone else in the town, loved songs, and this year she came of age.  And as a special present asked if she could be a judge of the singers.  This was especially bold, because she knew that, if she were allowed, she would be a judge instead of the king her father.  The Law was clear: no relatives could be judges at the same time.

    However, the king had been a judge for years and years, and he knew that his daughter had learned well from him about such things, so he said she could.  When they heard about it everyone was delighted. But –

   “Remember” he said, “you must judge the song and not the singer.  There will be all sorts of people coming to the festival – rich and poor, noble and common, those born in the city as well as strangers, handsome and plain. It makes no difference.  All are the same when they stand before you.  The words and the music – the beauty of what is sung – is all that you are to judge.  If you can do that, then you may go ahead and sit instead of me as a judge.”

 II

    Lem had escaped with his precious pillow.  He left behind him the inn and the innkeeper – who was not altogether either a kind or a wicked man; the Tumbling Tumblies – who again were not altogether good or bad people; and the city, which was as it was.  Out now on the open road, with little farms and small villages along the way, Lem felt far happier.  He had found the town exciting but at the same time a worry.  There was so much going on and so many people.

   “I believe” he said to himself “that I was born for a quiet life” – and, thinking about that, he started to make up a song:

No one knows
Why the wind blows
Where it comes from or where it goes

Will it come
Like a beating drum
Rattling windows to wake everyone?

Will it roar
And shake the door
And scatter everything over the floor?

Or maybe
It will sing to me
Of boats it has helped sail over the sea.

A sudden puff
Is just enough
Not too gentle but not too rough –

A summer breeze 
That rustles the trees 
And plays round the hives of the humming bees.

O who can say
Why it came today
And why it decided – to blow away?

    Just as he finished he noticed a young woman leaning over a fence and staring at him.  He hoped that he had not done something wrong and upset her. 

   “I’m sorry” he said going up to her.  But she shook her head and replied:

   “No, no.  I am sorry that I startled you.  I was simply listening to your lovely song.  Where did you learn it?”

   “I just made it up, as I went along.”

   “That’s amazing,” she said. “Are you a musician then?”

   “No” he answered. “My name is Lem and I am trying to find my way about in the world, travelling with my pillow and – looking to find the right path to take.”

   “Well,” she said “you have a real talent you know, and this may be your lucky day.  The king has just announced that this year’s festival will be a special one.  His daughter is going to be one of the judges in his place, and the prize is to be an extra large purse of gold.  Just imagine.  Why not come with us to the city and see how you fare? From what I heard just now – why, you have a good chance I’d say, and what is there to lose?”

   “I am a wood cutter and a help around the house – I have worked at an inn and before that on our farm.  That is all.  How can I go and take part in a festival?” he asked.

   “You are a young man – and all the others will be men and women like you.  Some may be rich and noble, and others will be poor and common.  So what? All that counts is their talent to sing – and that you can do, I am certain, with the best of them.  Come into our cottage. My husband is waiting. You sing it to him. He was born in the city and went to so many festivals.  Let us see what he thinks.  And if he agrees with me – well, you must come with us to the city and try.”

   So off they both went and, after a good rest and a bite to eat, Lem sang his song once again.  The wife was even surer than before, and her husband too was full of praise for Lem’s song and only added to what his wife had already said –

   “All we need now is to help you find a good idea for your song – and then you may well win the prize.”

 III

    On their way to the city the husband explained that although Lem’s song was very fine, in the festival songs were about lords and ladies and castles and great deeds.  He himself sang one or two to show Lem what he meant.  One of them started like this:

The knight sat on his snow white horse
And from her window high
His lady watched him ride away
And turn to wave good bye.

 

 

The lady’s heart was fit to break
Now she was all alone,
She sat upon her dainty chair
As still and cold as stone.

    “And then it goes on about how the knight fought in a great battle and came home and married the lady and they lived in the castle and became the king and queen of the land.  That is the kind of thing they sing about in the festival.”

   “I don’t think that I could do that” said Lem. “I have never seen a knight and I don’t know anything about ladies and great battles.  All I’ve ever seen is my grandmother and my brothers and sisters – and the geese on our farm.”

   “Never mind” said the young man, “we both think you have a lovely singing voice – and that you have already made up one beautiful song.  I am sure we can show you how to do a proper one for the festival.”

   All the way along the road, the young husband and wife explained to Lem about knights and ladies and castles and battles.  They told marvellous stories, full of brave deeds and frightening giants and beautiful princesses locked in towers and handsome princes locked in deep dungeons.  There were even magic talking frogs and flying horses. But, Lem thought, no one in the stories they told was what he called kind or good  – so what was the point of it all?

   Still, the young couple were very kind with all their help and advice and Lem did his best to learn from them and please them.

   After a while they arrived in the city which was even larger that the town where he had had the adventure of the Tumbling Tumblies. But no matter, because his two friends seemed to know their way around and took Lem straight to an inn. They went up the creaking wooden stairs to their rooms.

   “Come over here” said the young wife.

   Lem went to the window. He looked out and gasped:

   “There,” said the wife, “that is the palace.”

   Lem had never seen anything like it in his life before. It had turrets – each with a pointed roof and a flag on the top. In each of the walls there were windows gleaming in the evening sunlight like stars in the night sky. And in front of it were men on horses, dressed in suits of armour and shining helmets topped off with waving feathers.

   “There” said he young husband, “now you have seen a castle – or a palace at any rate, and knights in armour – just as I told you. Now surely you can make a proper song for the festival.”

 IV

    So Lem set to work trying to make a new song about castles and knights and all the other things that the young couple had explained to him.

   Of course he could not sit doing that all day long, so at midday he went out to find the square in front of the palace where the festival would take place. There he saw a number of people sitting on a raised platform: they were the other singers who were going to take part in the festival, each trying to win the purse of gold. They were practising their songs, and Lem listened to them carefully.

   The first man got up. He was tall and as thin as a fishing rod, with a nose as long and straight as a stick. He wore a dark green jacket and a pointed hat to match. He cleared his throat and, in a rather high voice, began to sing:

“O gather round, hear gentles all
My tale of derring-do;
Of dreadful deeds that will appal
And gentle lovers true.”

    “Oh dear,” Lem thought, “I don’t understand that at all. What strange words he uses. If that is what I am meant to do – I’d best give up right now.”

    The next man was jolly-looking – as round as a balloon, with a face as red as a tomato. He stood up and cleared his throat and in a very deep voice began to sing:

“The giant stood on the mountain top
And shouted loud and clear
‘Come all ye knights who boast and vaunt
And can this challenge hear.” 

  

The mountain echoed to the sound
And then, at break of day,
The iron hooves of fiery steeds
Rang out from far away.

Knights clad in armour travelled there
To fight and prove their worth.
But each of them lost to the giant
And fell dead on the earth.”

    As the man went on Lem thought again “Oh dear. I can understand more of this one. But if I am expected to sing like that about strange giants and knights and their sad deaths – then I’d really best give up.”

   Finally, a sad-looking woman got up. She had long black hair and a long purple dress and Lem thought she was about to burst into tears. She cleared her throat and in a very soft voice began to sing:

“Now as the moon
          Begins to shine,
And her silver eye
          Looks into mine,
I feel my heart
       Begin to beat
And it swells up.
     So I retreat
Into my chamber

Alone with sorrow,
     All the night
Until the morrow.
               I mourn my knight
For whom I sigh
            Now gone to fight
Perhaps to die.”

    “Well” thought Lem “that seems to be quite a popular thing to sing about – although I can’t see why. But I cannot make a song like that – certainly not about all these knights and definitely not about anyone I’ve never known and whom I am supposed to think about like that. Oh dear. I am quite sure that I will just have to give up.”

   But as he was about to leave, someone came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

   “Come on” he said, “it’s your turn.”

   “But I can’t sing songs like those” Lem explained, “and even if I could I haven’t had time to get one ready. I have only just arrived here and this is the first time I’ve heard the kind of thing you all seem to expect.”

   “Don’t worry” the man said in a kind voice. “The young people you came with seem to think that you have a good voice and sing beautiful songs. Just sing anything you like and we’ll see what you can do”

   Nervously, Lem stood up and, clearing his throat like all the others – although he didn’t really need to, he just thought it was the proper thing to do – and sang his song about the wind, the one that the young couple had heard when they first met.

   When he finished there was a silence. Then the man walked said –

   “Well, you certainly do have a lovely voice, and you sang your song beautifully – no doubt about that. But – well – it’s not quite the kind of song we’re used to here.”

   “I knew you would say that” Lem replied, “I really think I had best just give up.”

   “No, no” the man said. And then something quite unexpected happened. A voice was heard coming from somewhere over the square.

   “Please don’t give up. That was a truly lovely song and we must make sure that everyone can hear more at the festival. Please – I beg you.”

   They all looked up, and there, sitting on a balcony, was the king’s daughter. She had been watching and listening, preparing herself for the judging. Even from down in the square they could see her blush and hold her hand to her lips as she realised what she had done, blurting out like that. But they all understood that she had done so because, like themselves, they took the festival and the songs seriously. So they waved to her and after a moment she waved back. Then she got up and disappeared into the palace. But only a minute or two later one of the footmen appeared. Everyone stood around.

   “The princess has asked me to send her apologies for interrupting you, “he said “ but she wishes to say that she has enjoyed all the songs so far – but especially hopes you can encourage this young man” and he pointed at Lem with his white-gloved hand “to stay in the festival and help him prepare for his next song.” Then, with a slight bow, he left.

   “Just as I thought” said the man, and to Lem’s surprise – as much as their own – everyone agreed with him.

 V

    Poor Lem, what was he to do now? He could not leave – who could tell what the princess might say or do – let alone her father, the king? But now he really did have to make another song, and on that had at least some of things in it that he had heard the others sing about. The festival was only a day away but, in any case, his songs had just appeared from nowhere as he worked or walked along the road.

   That evening, sitting on the side of his bed at the inn, he began to try and make up a suitable song. First, he tried;

                        “A lady fair, did once, I hear…”

“No” he said to himself. That’s no good. What lady? And when did I ever hear about one?” He started again:

                        The castle shone with light so bright
                        The feast had just begun…

But again he stopped and thought “Do castles shine with bright light? I suppose they do – after all our farm house did in the sun, but maybe that was different. I don’t know. And what is a feast? Is it like our supper when we had one of the eider geese to eat? No. I must start again – what about that lady’s song? Perhaps I could do one like that. And he began:

                        The stars are shining in the sky,
                        But I feel dark within my heart
                        I love…

But I don’t love anyone and I don’t feel dark in my heart – except about the song I’m trying to make. Maybe I should go for a walk and see if that helps.”

   So, he got up and went down into the street where it had been raining. All was dark now and the wet cobble stones shone like little pin-points where the moon touched them. Lem walked for a while until he found himself in the great square. But as soon as he saw the platform and his spirits sank again. He sat on the edge with his head in his hands and quietly began to sob. Then, unexpectedly, he heard a voice. It was the princess.

   “Who is crying down there? I think I recognise that young man – is it you, who sang the song about the wind? Is it you?” she called.

   Lem looked up, a bit afraid.

   “Yes, it is me. Lem, Your – “

   “Don’t worry about that” the princess said. “Just tell what the trouble is.”

   “I can’t make a proper song,” Lem said. “I don’t understand some of the words the other singers used, or else the people and the things they sang about mean nothing to me. I don’t know what to do.”

   “Wait there”, she replied.

   A minute, two minutes – five even, passed. Then suddenly the princess appeared at a door in the palace wall, and behind her was one of her ladies-in-waiting.

   “Come over here” she called in a quiet voice.

   Lem went over and bowed.

   “Don’t worry about that,” the princess said. “Let’s see what we can do.” and she invited Lem through the door where there was a bench running along the wall. She sat down and patted the place beside her for Lem.

   “Now. I know exactly what you mean. All those knights and ladies have nothing to do with – well, anything really. It is simply that that is what people think songs should be about. In their hearts they know how silly it all is – but they don’t know what else to do. Except,” and here she looked straight at Lem, “I think you do. Your song was so fresh and real. All you need, I think, is someone whom the song is about – that would make it perfect. Can you think of someone – surely you can.”

   “I don’t know,” said Lem thoughtfully. “Maybe.”

   “Then that is what you have to do. Please, “she said, her eyes shining, “do it for me.”

   She touched his shoulder lightly and then, as suddenly as she had appeared at the door, she stood up and was gone, leaving Lem alone with the lady-in-waiting who took Lem gently to the door and, when he had slipped back into the square, closed it quietly behind him.

VI

    Back in his room, Lem had to pinch himself to make sure that what had happened wasn’t a dream. But he felt the pinch sure enough – so it wasn’t. Now he knew what he had to do. But the harder he tried to think of someone to put in his song the harder he found it: the young boy who had fallen down the cliff perhaps; or the innkeeper – even the Tumbling Tumblies! The more he thought, the tireder he became, until at last he lay down on the bed and tried to go to sleep. But it was impossible. He tossed and turned and the whole bed became harder and lumpier. Then, half asleep, he seemed to hear a voice say:

   “Lem. Why do you not use the wonderful pillow I gave you? Do you not remember all the comfort and ease it brought me?”

   “Of course,” Lem cried. “He got up and opened the pack, placed the pillow on the bed – and no sooner had his head touched it than he fell fast, fast asleep.

   And in that sweet sleep he had a dream. Somehow he was back in the farm, and there, as if he were looking through a kind of misty window, he saw his brothers. But he felt that there was someone missing. He looked about – but there was nothing else. Suddenly there was a loud noise. He looked up to see the eider geese flying about and flapping their wings. As they did so their feathers began to flutter to the ground until everywhere was as white as snow. In the dream he found himself walking over the feathers and as he moved they blew about and swirled around him, higher and higher until they seemed to form into a shape. Slowly it began to seem more and more familiar – and then he suddenly awoke.

   “Grandmother. Grandmother, of course! Who could be better in any song? Her goodness and kindness – these are what I shall sing about!”

   So now he knew. Smiling he fell back onto the smooth, welcoming pillow, and once more fell into a deep, but sweet and peaceful sleep.

 VII     

The next day was the day of the festival. The young couple woke early, partly out of excitement, partly because they wanted to find a good place in the square to watch from, and, of course partly because they wanted to help Lem get ready and support him. They knew he would be nervous and expected him to be up early too. What was their surprise when, instead of finding him nervously pacing the room, or lying in a sweat on his bed, they found him still fast asleep, breathing smoothly and with a smile on his face.

   “Lem” they cried, and gently shook him. “Lem, it’s nearly time. Please! Get up!”

   Slowly Lem awoke, rubbed his eyes and looked round him. At once, seeing his friends’ anxious faces he understood and, quick as a flash, jumped out of bed, and then turned to stroke his pillow that had sent him such a peaceful sleep and the lovely dream.

   He dressed quickly and together the three friends went down into the hall where the young husband and wife made him something to eat and drink and then they went to the square.

   There were people everywhere. Standing on the cobbles and on chairs and tables. Others were leaning out of windows, sitting on the roofs and even perched up in the trees. And what a noise.

   “If it’s going to be like this,” Lem said to himself “it won’t matter what I sing!”

   The young couple were upset because there was nowhere for them, but Lem led them over to the platform where the man who had helped him before called out:

   “Please, can you help my friends. I am only here because of them – and now they won’t be able to see or hear anything.”

   “Don’t worry” he called down. “Here. Come and sit on this bench” and he pointed to where a number of places were being kept for special guests. Lem and the young couple climbed onto the platform. The husband and wife were so pleased: there they sat, where they would have a perfectly view of everything – especially Lem!

   Lem went over and joined the other singers and sat down on the bench with his hands on his knees, waiting.

   Suddenly there was a roll of drums and a trumpet sounded. Everyone stood up and turned towards the palace. On the balcony a glass door opened and out came the king, wearing a flowing cloak and wearing his golden crown.

   “Today” said the king, “is a special day. It is the day of our festival when all of us celebrate the makers of songs.”

   The people all cheered at these words and waved their hats and caps in the air.

   “But this year something new is to happen,” he continued.” For the first time I shall not be leading the judges.”

   The crowd all looked at one another expectantly.

   “Instead, my daughter, the princess will take my place – who is even better fitted to sit with the judges than I am.”

   “No! No!” people called out   But the king lifted his hands and, after everyone had gone quiet, went on:

   “But yes! I understand your feelings, but listen carefully. First, I have to tell you something that you know already: I shall not be here always, so we all need to be ready for the day when I shall be too weak or just too old to be one of the judges. And second, my daughter, whom I know you all love, is herself a maker of songs. She knows a great deal more about it than I ever have. With her, I am sure not only that the festival is safe – but that it will grow, just as she, who is still young, will grow.”

   There was a deep silence – and then, just as before, a great cheer and waving of caps and hats as the people understood how wise their king really was, and how together they would protect their beloved festival and the joy that it brought into their lives.

   Once again there was a roll of drums and the trumpet sounded. The man who had helped Lem stood up:

   “In the name of the king and the people, I declare that our festival is now to begin. Here – ” and he pointed to the chairs behind him “are our judges, among whom as you have heard, the princess is now sitting”. Cheers sounded again. “And here” he pointed to the other side of the platform, “are the singers. Some are well-known to us. But one is a stranger. And here he pointed to Lem who half stood up, nervously, and bowed. He is a young man whom I ask you to listen to as he deserves and judge him, as we judge everyone else, according to the merits of his song. “  

     Then the singing began. Each singer walked to the front of the platform. Then raising one hand he or she made a sort speech, thanking the people for their kind attention and describing the events and the people that would appear in their song.

   All this made Lem even more nervous. He hadn’t expected to have to do anything like this. And the more he listened to the introductions and then the songs – all filled with those kings and queens, and knights and ladies, and battles and goodness only knows what else – the more he felt that he simply shouldn’t be there at all. But there was nothing he could do now but wait his turn.

     And suddenly it was his turn. The trumpet sounded and the woman who had been just before him, touched his arm and whispered “Here you are. Good luck.”

   Slowly Lem got up and walked to the front of the platform.

   “My name is Lem” he said, following the way all the others had spoken, “and I have come from far away in the North. I am here thanks to my new friends over there”, and he pointed to the young couple, who smiled and blushed slightly to be noticed in front of so many people. “They think that my songs are worth hearing. Which may be so, but I am afraid that they may not be to your liking. I cannot sing, as the others have done, about the olden times and kings and queens, and knights and ladies and castles and lovers and battles. All I know about them is what I have heard in the fine songs that have just been sung. All I really know is the land I come from, and the only wonderful person I have ever known was my grandmother – ”

   But here he was interrupted.

   “Enough. There is no need to explain any more. In this city we love song and what we wish to hear is something beautiful and true.”

   It was the princess, who had stood up among the judges and stopped Lem speaking. She understood very well why he felt the need to speak as he did – and also understood that it was not necessary. She believed in Lem and knew that, once the people heard his song, they would believe in him too.

   “Please,” she said, as she sat down again, “please, just sing.”

   And, taking a deep breath, and placing his hand upon his heart, Lem sang: 

“The wind, the wind,
The wind blows south.
It opens a great yawning mouth
And blows the snow
Wherever it will go
Through day and night
Till all the world turns sparkling white.

The trees, the trees,
The trees reach high
Until they seem to touch the sky.

In Spring when first
Their tight buds burst
Their leaves are seen
And all the world turns glistening green.

The sun, the sun,
Warms all the earth.
And in its warmth
Each flower gives birth
To blues and reds
The summer long
And all the world bursts into song.

The stars, the stars,
The sky at night
Sparkles with their twinkling light.
Upon the ground
Leaves dance round
To night birds’ tune
As all the world is silvered by the moon.

The fields, the fields,
So still and calm,
Lie all around the little farm.
And in a corner there
The old grandmother in her chair
Rocks slowly thinking over all her days
And all the world is blessed by her kind heart and gentle ways.”

 

    There was a long, deep silence as Lem finished, as though the entire square and everyone in it was taking a single breath. No one had ever heard a song like that before, and, although they understood it – they just didn’t know if it was a proper song at all. Its rhymes were different, its lines were different and what it said was different. They supposed that it must be some kind of song – but was it the kind of song that you sang at their festival?

   The judges too seemed unsure. They looked at one another and whispered to one another – and in fact they were thinking and whispering the same things as the people. Eventually, the oldest of the judges, a man with a long grey beard, stood up.

   “Ahem!” he coughed nervously. “Well” he paused, “ahem, well – we – we don’t quite know what to say. We have now heard all the songs, all very lovely and beautifully sung. But, ahem, well, the last song was…Well, ahem, how should I say? Its rhymes were different, its lines were different and what it said was different. We suppose that it really was a song – but what kind of a song? And was it the kind of song you sing at a festival? I mean, at this kind of festival?”

   And he sat down.

   Lem looked nervous, worried and embarrassed. This was his fault after all. Out in the square people were still whispering to one another, looking carefully at one another, waiting, as people sometimes do, to hear what the next person would say first. What Lem had done was, indeed, quite new and no one was quite sure what they should say.

   Then, quietly and slowly, the princess stood up again.

   “The answer, is ‘Yes’” she said. “It was a song, and it is exactly the right kind of song for a festival like ours where we want to hear something beautiful and true – and new. I agree that everything about it was – different. The rhymes and the lines and what it was about. But I think that everyone here” and she pointed to the judges and then all the people standing around the platform and up at the windows and on the balconies, “everyone understood it. I could feel the wind and the snow and see the trees and the flowers and the stars and the moon and understand all about the old grandmother and her kind ways. The song was beautiful because everything in it was true and beautiful. And new!”

   Another silence – and then everyone started to call out “Yes! Yes!” and clap and once more wave hats and caps in the air.

   It took a long time for there to be quiet again, although the oldest judge, with the long gray beard, stood at the front of the platform with both his hands in the air asking for silence. But at last he was able to speak:

   “I see it too. The princess is right. She has shown us the beauty and the truth that Lem’s song opened up in each of our hearts. Friends,” and here he turned to his fellow judges, “am I right?” and they all nodded. “Then” he said “ I will ask the princess to stand beside me – and award this young stranger the purse of gold.”

 

   There was tremendous cheering as the princess took the purse. But before handing it to Lem, she took a step forward and asking for quiet, said:

   “I know that this is the right thing to do. But this prize is not given to Lem by me. I can see that it comes, not just from the judges either, but from everyone, the whole people, from all of us whose hearts have been touched by the beauty and the truth of Lem’s song.”

 Chapter 4 – How the pillow saved Lem from drowning

I

     The next day Lem still could not quite believe what had happened. His friends found him sitting up in bed, slowly passing the heavy purse from one hand to the other.

     “What shall I do with it all?” he kept asking.

     Eventually the young man went over to him and said that he didn’t have to do anything. The first thing would be to keep it safe and, as Lem was about to return to his travelling he suggested a good, strong leather belt with a bag attached to it..

     Lem was delighted with the idea.

     “My dear friends” he said, “all this is because of you. All your help and advice is what made it possible – and you are still helping me! Please, “he said “tell me if there is anything I can do to repay all your kindness. Here – why not take half the coins – after all, without you I would have none of them.”

     “No, no” they cried. “That would be terrible. That isn’t why we helped you.”

     “I know that” Lem replied, “but still. Please tell me what I can do. Surely one gold coin at least.”

     “Well” the wife said, “that would be very kind. It will be something to keep and remember you by – and in time we will be able to use it for our little one – when he or she comes along.”

     “I am so glad”, said Lem, “It seems to me that I will be able to do some good with all this gold.”

     “Yes” the wife replied, “so you can. But for every good you can do, be careful, for gold also attracts a great deal of bad in the world. It is a bit like a magic stone: it shows up who is honest and kind and who is dishonest and selfish. It must be used with care.”

     Lem was struck by this and thought for a moment.

     “Thank you” he said, “I will try to use my gold as my grandmother would have wanted – with kindness, but always with great care, as you say.”

     Although all of this was true, they all knew that the conversation was a way of delaying the moment when they should part. In the end it could be put off no longer and the young couple took a deep breath and looked straight at Lem.

     “Well then, we must say goodbye” the wife said. “I do not know if we shall ever meet again.”

     “But” added her husband, “be sure that we will never forget you. What an adventure it has turned out to be!”

     “Oh yes” said Lem, “and all thanks to you. But I have already said that – and I think that if we say any more we shall start to cry. So. Farewell and may you have all the luck in the world – or at least as much as you have brought me.”

     “Farewell. Farewell” they said and, kissing Lem on both his cheeks they quickly turned away and began to walk back down the street by which they had first entered the city. But then they stopped, and waved, and walked on again and stopped once more and waved again. And so they went on, with Lem waving back to them each time until they were out of sight.

II

     “Yes” thought Lem, now I can do some good in the world with all this gold, and first I shall see if I can’t help my brothers and sisters – if I can find them.”

     In fact he only knew where one of them lived, the oldest who had married and gone to live in a town on the river where he worked as a blacksmith.

“Perhaps he will know where the others may be” he thought.

     So off he went to find out how to get there. At the inn they advised him to go to the river bank and ask the boatmen.

     “And take care” they said, “you know what some of those sailors are like!”

     Of course, Lem didn’t know – but he went anyway, hoping for the best.

     The river itself was huge – wide, with a fast flowing current and stretching as far as the eye could see. It was covered with boats of every shape and size together with ferries crossing from one bank to the other. Lem was amazed and a bit nervous. Here was something else that he was about to do that he knew nothing at all about. Except that he had to take care! Anyhow, he looked around and spotted a tall man wearing a smart cap and carrying a black stick under his arm, who seemed very sure of himself.

     He seems to know he’s doing” thought Lem. “I’ll go and ask his advice” and over he went, carrying his pouch, his pillow and wearing his new leather belt with the purse firmly attached to it.

     “Excuse me sir” he said politely.

     The man turned sharply towards him.

     “Yes, young man. What can I do for you?”

     “I need to find a boat that will take me up the river to find my brother.”

     “And where might that be, then?” the man asked, with a strange sort of smile that Lem thought didn’t look too kind. In any case Lem told him and the man laughed.

     “That’s a long way” he said, “and it will be an expensive fare. Can you afford it?”

     “Oh yes” said Lem. “I have just won – “

     “Ah. You must be the stranger. Ben isn’t it?” and all of a sudden he became much more friendly.

     “Lem actually”, said Lem.

     “Yes, yes. Lem. Well, come on and let’s see what we can do for you. Here, let me help you with all this baggage”, and he bent down and picked up the pack. As he did so he took a really good look at Lem – especially his new shiny belt and the purse attached to it.

     He led Lem over to a wooden jetty. Here he stopped and, putting two fingers in his mouth, blew a loud shrill whistle.

     Several men looked up from their work and the man waved to one of them and called to him. He was rather crusty-looking – with worn clothes, a bit bent over and a ragged bit of beard. Lem didn’t quite like the look of him.

     “This is Lem, the young man who won the prize at the festival” the man said.

     “Oh, is it indeed? I’m very glad indeed to make your acquaintance. What can we do for you now?”

     “He needs to go up river to visit his brother. I told him” – and here Lem thought he saw the man wink in a funny way, “that it was a long way and an expensive fare. But, of course, luckily, that’s not a problem for him.”

     Then they discussed the journey, how long it would take, the food Lem would need to have with him, where he would sleep on the boat and, of course, the fare.

     “I should think that two gold pieces would do it, wouldn’t they?” the second man said.

     “Oh, well, yes. I think I could manage it for that, especially for such an important young man. We need to be sure that he’s well looked after – don’t we?”

     Lem wanted to ask about the journey, but somehow he didn’t seem able to get a word in.

     “We leave later this afternoon” the sailor said. “Why don’t you go and buy your provisions and have something to eat. Be back by the time the clock strikes four.”

     Off Lem went – it all seemed like good advice, and he was pleased it had been so easy to make the arrangements. But, at the back of his mind, he remembered the words “Take care, you know what some of those sailors are like.” But take care of what – and what were sailors like?

III

     Lem soon found the market and went to one of the stalls.

     “Can I help you?” the woman asked.

     “Please” said Lem. “I need some food for a journey.”

     “Oh yes? How far are you going then, if I might ask.”

     “Up river to find my brother,” Lem answered, “it will take about four days I’m told.”

     “That’s quite a journey – and expensive.”

     “Yes it is. It’s going to cost me two gold coins.”

     “Two gold coins? That sound a lot to me. My brother has a boat and he would only charge half a gold coin. Tell me, whose boat are you going on?”

     “I don’t know his name” replied Lem, “he is a tall man with a cap – “

     “ – and a black stick under one arm?”

     “Yes. Do you know him?”

     “I had rather I didn’t. I’m afraid you’ve run into a bad lot there,” the woman said. She stopped and thought for a moment. “Why don’t you come and speak to my brother and see what he can do for you?”

     “Thank you,” said Lem. “But they have already put my pack and my pillow on the boat.”

     “Pillow?” exclaimed the woman. And Lem told her all about it.

     “Well. First of all, if this pillow is so precious to you, you will need to protect it with an oilskin cloth. And then – well, let’s go and see my brother and try to get you out of this mess. Believe me, young man, when you’re dealing with some of these sailors, you really have to take care!”

     After Lem had paid for his provisions and the oilskin cloth for the pillow, the woman took him back down to the river where she found her brother. He too was worried when he learnt about what had happened.

     “Let’s go and get your things back and then you can sail with me for a quarter of the price – and safely” he said.  

     Together the three of them walked to where the boat was moored. The tall man was standing talking to his crusty companion when he heard Lem and the others step onto the wooden jetty. He turned sharply and without saying a word tapped the other on the shoulder who dived down into the boat. A moment later he reappeared with a thick, gnarled stick in his hand.

     As Lem approached, the tall man stood quite still, with an odd smile on his face – which didn’t seem to be the kind of smile that Lem liked. They all stood facing one another.

     “Well” the man said, “I see you have made friends already!”

     “Yes” replied Lem, “and – erm – “

     “Well?”

     “We think he’d be better off sailing with me” the woman’s brother interrupted.

     “Do we indeed?” the tall man sneered. “And why might that be?”

     “You are charging far too much and – “

     “And nothing” the tall man said in a frightening voice. “We have struck a deal. And we have Lem’s baggage. And – “

     “- and we don’t need you poking your nose into our business” snarled the crusty sailor, smacking the gnarled stick in the palm of his hand. “Off with you!”

     The woman’s brother stepped forward, but the crusty sailor just lashed out and struck him with the stick. As he fell back the tall man grabbed Lem and pushed him onto the boat. Lem fell with a heavy thud as he struck his head against the side.

     “Help.” cried the woman, while her brother ran towards the boat to rescue Lem. Some of the nearby sailors looked up to help them. But the tall man called out –

     “Cast off” and in a second the ropes were reeled in and the boat started to move.

     “Help! Stop!” cried the woman again, but as the sailors arrived the crusty man struck another blow on her brother’s head and, as he staggered back, the sailor and the tall man jumped aboard their boat – and they were off.

IV

     By the time Lem recovered from his fall and the blow to his head, the boat was far away from the city. He was a prisoner at the mercy of the tall man and his partner in a boat sailing on the great wide river. He had no idea where he was, where he was going – or what he could do to help himself.

     After a while, the tall man stepped down into the dark cabin where Lem lay.

     “Well. Never mind. You wanted to travel to see your brother and, well, we just left a bit earlier than planned” he laughed.

     Lem said nothing. He was too afraid. He felt that whatever he said would only be met with that same cruel laugh.

     “Anyway, what I have to say is, that you’ve caused us a lot of trouble – and that you’ll have to pay for it. The fare has gone up quite a lot. Don’t look so upset – you’ve got plenty, haven’t you! In any case you don’t have to pay just yet. I’m not worried – after all, I don’t expect you’re going anywhere, are you?”

     Left alone, Lem tried to think. What could he do? He was at the mercy of these terrible men, and the only thing to d, was escape. But how?

     Lem could swim, his grandmother had taught all his brothers and sisters how to in the lake near their home. So that was alright. But the river was very deep and wide and, he was sure, with a strong current. He had no idea how far he would have to struggle through the waves to the shore. In any case, he had to get up onto the deck first. He decided to lay low, pretend to be weak and helpless and see if he could fool the men into thinking that he was unable to do anything other than what they wanted.

     As night came on, the second man brought him a piece of bread and some water – hardly enough to keep his strength up.

     “This is included in the fare” he sneered. “If you want anything else – we’ve left a few of the provisions you brought with you. They’re just over there. Next to that other parcel of yours. By the way, what’s in it? It doesn’t weight much.”

     “Oh, just a pillow,” said Lem.

     The man stamped his foot on the wooden planks.

     “A pillow? Well. Go to sleep then.” And slammed the cabin door shut. Lem heard the key turn in the lock.

V

     Lem knew that he was in the hands of bad people. Goodness only knew what they might do with him. So far they had left him alone, but he realised that they had their greedy eyes on his gold. And once they got hold of that – what then!

     The next time the man came into the cabin Lem complained of feeling ill in the dark, airless cabin. But the man only laughed and said:

     “You wait until the wind get up – then you’ll feel ill!”

     Lem just had to get up on deck and see how he could escape – but it didn’t look as though they were going to let him out. He kept on saying how ill he felt, but it was no use.

     But Lem did not give up – he had a plan, and now he had to act, however difficult and unpleasant it might be. In his mind the words of his grandmother still echoed, but although he knew that goodness and kindness were what he wanted to bring into the world, now that he was actually out in it he could see that they were not.

     “Oh dear” he sighed, “how hard it is to keep on a straight path in this difficult world.”

     Although the cabin was dark, enough light came between the planks to be able to see a little. Lem thought carefully. He picked up the pouch with his things in it, and placed it right in front of the cabin door. Next he put the pillow in its oilskin wrapping and tied it onto his back. Then, standing just by the door he started to stamp his feet and bang on the wooden walls. After a minute he could hear one of the men climbing down the steps to the cabin.

     “What’s going on there? Be silent or – “

     “Or what?” Lem cried out – and made even more noise.

     “Or I’ll come in and then you’ll see.” the man shouted back.

     “See what?” cried Lem – knowing this would make him even crosser. And he somehow made still more noise.

     “I’ll show you” the man shouted.

     “Come on then” Lem shouted back – and by now he was more excited than afraid of what might happen.

     “Right then” the man cried and pulled the door open and stood there with both his fists clenched above his head. But, as he stepped in, he tripped on the pouch. He lost his balance and fell flat on his face. Quick as a flash, Lem jumped through the door, slammed it shut and locked it. Then he looked carefully around and quietly climbed up the stairs.

     There he saw the tall man at the ship’s wheel, steering the boat. By now the crusty man had got up and was banging on the cabin walls and door. But the tall man thought it was still Lem and took no notice.

     “Can’t you make him stop that terrible noise!” he called, without looking round.

     Lem quickly went to the side of the boat and looked out over the water – the river bank was quite a long way off, so he started to cross to the other side. Unfortunately as he did so he tripped on a pile of rope. The tall man turned round and saw Lem.

     “Ho! Not so fast!” he shouted and ran towards him. Lem picked himself up and, with no time to lose, got to the side of the boat and started to climb. As he did so the tall man reached out and grabbed at Lem’s belt which held the purse of gold. Lem had no time to think – he kicked out as hard as he could. The man had both his hands on the belt now and was not going to lose such a great prize. Lem would have let him have it just to get free, but he couldn’t, the belt was so secure. He kicked out again and as the man fell back Lem hauled himself onto the side and closing both eyes – jumped.

     The water was dark and cold and choppy because of the wind. Lem plunged deep down and it took what seemed a long time before he rose to the surface again. When he did he could hear both the men in the boat shouting and arguing – each trying to get the other to swim after Lem. But like so many people who won’t earn an honest living by their own hard work, they were cowardly and lazy – so they did nothing. Still, Lem found it hard to swim – the purse was very heavy and his soaked clothes made it difficult to move easily. In any case he was exhausted and hungry after his imprisonment. He was surprised that he could keep afloat at all. And then he realised. It was the pillow in its oilskin bag full of air that was saving him from slipping back down into the river.

VI

     Lem had no idea how long the pillow had held him up while he floated in the river. But when he awoke, cold, wet and exhausted, he found himself lying on a grassy bank in the shade of a weeping willow. He felt something strange but very comforting across his face. It must be one of the hanging branches blowing in the wind, he thought. But when he eventually opened his eyes and looked around, imagine his amazement to see that, kneeling beside him, was a pretty young woman, smiling at him and gently wiping his face with a cloth.

     “Hello” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I was wondering how long I would have to wait here before you woke up!” and she laughed merrily.

     “Who are you? And where am I? What has happened?” Lem asked.

     “Well” she said slowly, “I was going to ask you the same things. But I can tell you that I am Phee and I found you here, with your legs still in the water. You are heavier than you look, you know. I pulled you higher up for safety. And this is just where I live – over there.”

     Lem looked up and saw a little cottage at the top of the river bank. It looked welcoming and warm. Then something struck him. He sat up as best he could and looked anxiously around.

     “My p –“

     “Your pack, “ Phee said.

     “My pillow!” Lem replied in a worried voice.

     “Pillow?” she said in surprise. “Don’t worry. It must be the thing that was tied to your back – so tightly it couldn’t get lost. Look. Here it is” and she moved it over to him. Lem took hold of it and to Phee’s amazement held it tight and laid his head on it.

Chapter 5 – A terrible trap and a wonderful discovery

I

     After a few days, Lem felt much better, Phee had looked after him so well, giving him the right food to restore his strength – and drinks to make him merry after his terrible time on the boat. All the while, bit by bit, he told her his story: who he was and where he came from and everything that had happened since he left home. Phee was amazed. She had never met anyone who had travelled so far from where they were born or who had had such adventures. But above all she had never met anyone who had such a wonderful pillow – one that had saved its owner’s life!

     Then Lem explained all about the pillow and his grandmother and how it helped him to remember her words so that he too could at least try to behave in a way that was kind and good. And when he told Phee this, he remembered what he had said to the young husband and wife when he won the purse of gold: “It seems to me that I will be able to do a great deal of good with this” and the wife’s reply: “Yes, you can. But for every good you can do, be careful, because gold also attracts a great deal of bad in this world.”

     “And it is true” Lem said. “I have seen that myself. But -”

     “But” said Phee, “let us hope that there is more good to be done than bad.”

     “Yes” Lem replied, “and that is what I am going to do. I must go on looking for my two brothers and three sisters to see what help I can give them.”

     “Where do they live?” asked Phee.

     “Well, I think one of them lives in a town just up the river – where I was trying to go in the first place. But more than that I do not know. And as for the others – I have no idea. And I begin to feel terribly alone and lost in what I can see is a difficult world,” he sighed.

     “Why then, don’t we go out into it together?” asked Phee. “I have lived here all on my own since my dear father died. I have no relations and no real friends. I am, like you, all alone in the world. Surely together we might do better. After all, two heads are beter than one – so why not us?”

     First she smiled at Lem and then, as he smiled back, she held out both her hands, which, after a moment, he took in his – and squeezed them gently

 

II

     The next day Lem and Phee set out to look for his brother. They walked as close to the river as they could, because that would lead them to the town where he lived. All that day they walked and walked, and gradually the path led further and further in among the trees and thick bushes. Then it began to twist and turn: first away from the river into the edge of a field and then, just as they thought they had lost the river, it suddenly turned sharply back towards it again. The bright sun sparkling on the water was a great comfort after the dark of the wood, but then they had to leave its shining ripples and go inland, deeper and deeper among the trees which seemed to grow thicker and taller.

     Lem heard a strange sound.

     “Listen” he said and stopped quite still. “Listen.”

     There was a tinkling sound coming from somewhere nearby in the forest – but how far they could not tell.

     “What can it be?” Phee whispered.

     “I don’t know” replied Lem, but it may be someone who can help us find our way again. Let’s go and see.”

     They started walking as quickly and carefully as they could, looking all around them as they went, just in case.

     Suddenly they saw a clearing ahead of them and in the middle of it there was something shining and glittering in the sunlight, and, as the wind blew, making a tinkling sound like little bells.

     “What is it?” Phee whispered again.

     “Come on” said Lem.

     And he walked out into the clearing. There, was the strangest sight either of them had ever seen. In the middle of the grass was a small tree, but instead of leaves, from its branches there hung coins – gold and silver – that moved in the wind and tinkled as they touched one another.

     Slowly they approached it, quite amazed and wondering what it was doing there – and why, and who had made it.

     “Look, it’s a tree of gold and silver” cried Phee in surprise. “See how beautiful it looks as the coins move in the wind. Let’s go closer and – “

     But she couldn’t finish what she was saying. Suddenly the two of them felt the ground open up beneath their feet and down they fell, right through the grass into a deep hole. Luckily Lem’s fall was broken by the pillow tied to his back – and just as luckily, Phee fell on top of Lem. But, although they were not hurt they had still had a terrible shock. For a moment they just sat on the ground and then up they jumped to try and see where exactly they were – and how to get out!

     It was no use. The hole was too deep – they could not reach the top – and the sides went straight up with nothing on them to climb. They were stuck! It was cold, it was damp, and now it grew darker and darker.

III

     “Had enough?” growled a voice.

     Lem and Phee looked up. There was no one to be seen. Then, above them, leaning on a stick next to the edge of the hole, they could just make out the figure of a little old man, with a long grey beard that almost reached to his knees, and a big flat hat – and next to him a fierce-looking dog.

     “Had enough, have you? Wanted my gold and silver did you. Well ‘Greed goes before a fall’”.

     “It’s ‘pride goes before a fall’” Lem shouted up at him.

     “Not round here” the old man called back and laughed in a way that was nasty and sad at the same time.

     “Well, we are not proud and certainly not greedy either” Phee called out. “We have nothing to be proud of and we have as much gold as anyone could want!”

     “Have you indeed” the old man said, a bit less nastily than before.

     “I don’t think you should have told him that”, Lem whispered. “Now he’ll want it – and goodness knows what he will do with us.”

     “Then why were you going to steal from my money tree?” The old man asked.

     “We weren’t. We just wanted to see what it was. If you don’t want people to look at it why did you put it there in the first place?” Lem asked.

     “Wait a bit” said the old man, surprised. “I’m asking the questions!”

     But there was a long silence.

     “Well ask us then”, called Lem. “But in the meantime, tell us why we are down here, in this deep, dark, damp smelly hole – “

     “Or even better” added Phee, “help us out.”

     “How do I know you didn’t want to steal my gold? How do I know you really have gold of your own?”

     Again Phee whispered that they should not tell the old man how much they had. But by now Lem had had a good idea and called out:

     “Here you are. Have a look.”

     The old man came closer to the edge.

     “I can’t see anything” he said.

     “Come nearer then” Lem called up, “if you lie on the grass I’ll hold up a coin so you can see.”

     The old man wriggled closer – but it was still too dark.

     “I can’t see anything” he said, “you are too far away down there.”

     “Well” Lem said, “that is hardly our fault. But wait. I have something I can stand on – see if this helps.”

     Then, much as it pained him, Lem laid the cushion up against the side of the hole and stood on it.

     “There. Now you can see it” and Lem held up a coin, turning it to catch the light. The dog immediately started to bark.

     “Can you see it now?” Lem called. “Here, touch it if you like.”

     The old man came to the very edge of the hole and bent forward. As he did, his beard hung right down. Quick as a flash Lem grabbed it with both hands.

     “Hey! Stop that!” the man shouted and the dog started barking in a most frightening way again.

     “No!” Lem shouted back. “You have no right to keep us down here. I shan’t let go until you set us free!”

     “How can I do that with you holding onto my beard? Let go – it hurts. I’m an old man.”

     “Then you should know better than to do this to people. Get us up and out of here – or we’ll all be here till – “

     “Till when? Till what?” the old man struggled to whisper.

     “I don’t know. It’s up to you.”

     “Imo! Imo!” the old man called, and the dog stopped barking. “Rope! Fetch!” he said in as stern a voice as he could manage, and off the dog went.

IV

     The dog, who was obviously intelligent, still looking rather fierce Lem and Phee thought, brought the rope which the old man tied around his waist as he lay on the ground. This made it just secure enough for Phee to climb out. First she stood on Lem’s shoulders and then used the rope to haul herself up the last few feet. Once she was safely there she held the rope so that Lem could climb out as well. Then Lem finally let go of the old man’s beard and, grudgingly he led them back to the cave where he lived.

     “You can come in here” he said, and added “there’s nothing to steal, so don’t worry about another trap!”

     “Oh dear” said Lem, “why should you think we want to steal anything?”

     “People do” replied the old man.

     “Not us” said Phee.

     While they were talking Imo padded in and lay down beside the open fire.

     “Oh Imo” said the old man “you wouldn’t take anything, would you? You are my only true friend” and he knelt on the ground and lovingly stroked the dog.

     “Please” said Lem, “just look at us. We are two young people out in the world and I am looking for my brothers and sisters, that is all. We mean you no harm – we would like to do you some good if you would let us.”

     “And how would you do that?” the old man asked, looking surprised at what he had heard.

     “Well, we have gold coins and, if you needed anything we would be happy to give you one.”

     “Ah, gold coins” he sighed, “always gold coins. Believe me young man, they cannot help me or anyone else. They can only bring hurt and harm and hatred.”

     “Surely not” exclaimed Phee. “Why?”

V

     Eventually they became friends – including Imo, of course, who took a particular liking to Phee and kept licking her.

     “First” said the old man “you will be hungry. Have you anything to eat with you?”

     “Yes indeed” said Lem, and opened a pocket with bread and cheese. “Will you share this with us?”

     “Thank you. There is very little to eat here – only berries from the woods and, sometimes, a wild apple.”

     “Then tell us why you live here like this” said Phee.

     “I shall” he replied. “But first I have to know how you came by your gold. That still worries me.”

     And so Lem told him about the prize he had won, and then about the pillow – and last about the men on the boat and how the pillow had saved him from drowning.

     “There you are, you see” said the man in a sad voice. “Gold. Hurt and harm and hatred. Let me tell you.”

VI

The old man’s sad story – with a happy ending

1

     “Years ago I lived far from here up in the with my wife and my mother and our children. I do not think anyone can have been happier than we were. But it is not truly possible to be alive and be happy – the world pokes its great nose in and that is that. Every week we went, my wife and I, to the market and there we saw that it was not enough for all of us to live together just as we wanted. One day, we knew, our children would have to go out into the world and then they would need to know and understand more than they could ever learn from us, working and living on our little farm.

     “We thought and thought what was best to do. We were too far from the town for the children to go to school every day, and besides, in the winter the snow would have made it impossible. So we said to one another “Why could a teacher not come and live with us here instead?” At first, my mother would have none of it, but eventually she agreed and we set off to the town to find a teacher. We took with us goods for the market as we always did and, in addition, money to pay the teacher when we found him – so that he could see that we were in good earnest.

     “On the way a terrible storm blew up and as it increased we found we could go no further and were eventually completely covered, horse, sleigh and all, in huge drifts of snow. We waited, huddled together for the whole night, holding tight to one another for warmth. When we woke, the sun slowly softened the snow enough for us to dig ourselves out. When we got to the surface there was nothing to be seen. The road, fields, animals, any houses or huts had vanished. Then suddenly we saw something moving on the horizon. We began to wave and, although it was terribly cold we even took our hats off and waved them so that whoever it was could see us and come to our help. We were so happy that we were about to be rescued. The riders got closer and closer and then, just as they arrived we could see who they were. They were the Robbers of the North! How frightened we were. These were terrible men who had never rescued or helped anyone. They were, as their dreadful name says, robbers, only interested in stealing and even worse.

     “What could we do? They quickly tied us up and looked for our goods and money. But the goods were buried deep in the snow, and our money was sewn into secret pockets in our clothes. The Robbers of the North were angry that they couldn’t find anything, so they decided to take us with them and make us work for them. We knew this meant a terribly hard life as well as having to become part of their hated band.”

2

     “And so our lives changed for ever. Tied to the back of a horse, riding always to strange lands, and having to watch all the terrible things the Robbers did – stealing and harming people. By night we slept on the bare floor or just the open ground, and by day we had to wash their clothes, scrub down the horses, cook their meals – and then up and off again.

     “Every now and then we stopped at an inn. Then, if we had a chance, we would speak quietly to the innkeeper or one of the other people who worked there and asked if they would help us. We said that we would pay them with a gold coin if they would untie us and set us free. And every time we would give them a coin – and every time they laughed and just left us there. Finally we found ourselves in a house deep in the woods – a perfect place for us to hide if we escaped. In the house there was a kindly old woman who did the cooking and she even asked us if we wanted something to eat after the Robbers had had their supper. This was our last chance. Almost all our money had gone and we knew that when we left in the morning the Robbers were going to go in different directions, east and west, and that they would take me in one group and my dear sweet wife in another. Who knew if we would ever see one another again?

     “Quietly, once we were alone, we asked the old woman if she would untie and free us in exchange for gold.

     “Gold eh!” she said, “how come you have gold?”

     So we told her that we still had a little left, hidden in secret pockets. She slipped out of the room, we thought to fetch a knife to cut the rope. But no. She came back with the fearful chief of the band.

     “My dear, good, brave son” she laughed.

     Of course he found our last coins and took them, tossing them in his hand before giving them to his mother!

     ‘Here’ he said, ‘put these in the treasure chest. Well done, mother. If you were any younger you should ride with us – the finest Robber of all!’”

3

     “The next morning, as we had feared, we were parted and the Robbers went off with my wife. How we felt I cannot find the words to tell you. After many years, the Robbers found that I was more trouble than I was worth. I was too old and weak to do anything useful work. I didn’t know what they would do with me.   In the end they simply left me here in the middle of this forest, tied up so that I couldn’t go for help and lead people to catch them – after all, I knew their ways. But then this wonderful dog appeared and, clever as he is, bit through the rope and freed me at last. Now we live here together. I want nothing to do with men anymore – I have learned that they cannot be trusted and that they lose their kindness and their very hearts to gold.

     “But even here in the forest men sometimes come and try to see what I have. They pretend to want to help me – but all they want is gold. For I too have gold once more. Who knows how or why, but deep in this cave I found a box of coins – gold and silver. They are of no use to me – except as a trap for the greedy. And that is what I use them for. Men come and see my money tree and cannot resist it. They run to take it, as you did, and when they have fallen into the hole that I dug with my faithful Imo, which is the name I gave him, I make them stay there, in the dark and cold and damp until I have made them promise to mend their ways and turn away from gold and instead look for the good in their own hearts. Then I let them out – and Imo chases them away. 

     But you are different, my young friends. I can see that you have no wish for my gold – and no need of my lesson. Tell me, then, who you are and where are you going with your gold?”

VII

     The old man’s sad story was ended. But Lem just sat there staring at him, his mouth open and his eyes as wide as dinner plates. After a long time he seemed to wake out of a dream – although he had been listening carefully to every word.

     “Please” he said, how many children did you have, all those years ago?”

     “It makes me cry even to count them” the old man said, “but there were six. Three boys and three girls.”

     “And was there anyone else?”

     “Why should you want to know all this?” asked the old man.

     “Please, just tell me. Please” answered Lem.

     “Yes. As I said, there was my own mother. Goodness only knows what must have become of her, left with all those children to care for.”

     “And – was there anything else?” Lem asked, hardly able to get the words out.

     “No. Except that we always kept geese. Eider geese, on the little farm. Nothing and no one else. Now, tell me, why should you want to know all this?”

     Again Lem sat there in a deep silence. His eyes were shining with tears and his hands shook. Then he slowly got up and, walking over to the old man, who stared at him not knowing what to think, Lem said, as clearly as he could

     “I am Lem.”

     “Lem?” the old man just managed to say. “Then you are my son, my youngest child” and with that he swayed on his seat and, if Lem and Phee had not been able to catch him, would have fallen hard onto the ground. Gently they laid him with his head on the pillow and so he fell into a deep, deep sleep. 

 

 

VIII

     No one, however clever, could tell what Lem and his father felt. When the old man woke all he could do was smile and hold out his arms. First he held and hugged Lem and then he took Phee in his arms also. Their happiness was as great as the wide world, and as warm as the sun, and as bright as the full moon. 

     Lem told his story over again, but now with everything about his grandmother and his brothers and sisters, and how they had all married and each sent a feather back that he had used to make the pillow. At this, the old man took the pillow in his arms and squeezed it close to him, as if it were his dear mother whom he had not seen for so many years. Then Lem went on with his own story, right up to the moment when he and Phee had fallen into the pit.

     “Dear, dear father” Lem said. “Now that we have found each other we must never be parted again. You must come with us. We are going to find my brothers and sisters to see if the gold I won can help them in their lives. I am sure it will.”

     “Ah. Do not be so sure,” his father replied. “Even among brothers and sisters gold can work its evil magic. Be careful or it may destroy the very thing that you are searching and hoping for. As for coming with you, I am too old. I shall stay here.”

     “But no!” cried Lem. “Not in this cave, with no comfort, no proper food and no one to help you.”

     “I have Imo” his father replied. “He is kind and faithful – and he has no interest in gold!”

     “Come with us, please” said Phee, “so that we can look after you and keep you with us.”

     “Your journey is too long. I have travelled enough. You must go and find your brothers and sisters on your own. And when your journey is ended, then send for me and I shall come so that you can indeed look after me in my old age.”

     “But how shall we do that?” they both asked. “We could never find you in the middle of this forest again.”

     “Then you must take Imo” – he held up his hands to stop them objecting. “If after a year you still have not found your brothers and sisters, send Imo back to me – he will know exactly how to find me and he will lead me to wherever you are.”

     In the end Lem and Phee agreed to the plan. They left all the food they had taken with them and whatever clothing and other things they could spare and which they thought Lem’s father could use. Then, with great sadness, they walked off, following Imo towards the river again and the town where they believed Lem’s brother lived.

     As they left, the old man smiled and waved, still calling out his warning –

     “Take care of the gold. It will not take care of you!”

     Listening to his words, but still not quite understanding them, turning back for as long as they could still see him and wave, Lem and Phee and Imo walked, once more, back towards the wide world.

 

 

 

Chapter 6 – Lem finds a brother

I

     Not too far up the river was a small town – not so big that everyone was a stranger nor so small that everybody knew everybody else’s business. It was here that some while before, Lem’s brother, Neb, had come to live with his wife. They had gone there because Neb was a carpenter and, being on the river, there was work in boat building and mending and everything else to do with boats.

     Neb was very skilful as anyone could see from his own house. He had made all the furniture himself and almost all of it was decorated with carving – just like the spoons and figures all the boys had made to sell at the fair when they still lived at home. The people who came to visit Neb always admired his work and said what a pleasure it must be to live among such lovely things. But he simply replied that “Money doesn’t grow on trees – but wood does.” And that it was so much cheaper to make your own!

     Of course they understood what he meant – after all, it was true. But it seemed a shame that he himself only seemed to enjoy his own handiwork because it saved him money.

     “And” he said, “a lot of the wood comes from the ships I work on – bits and pieces that no one else has a use for. Think of that!”

     Neb’s wife smiled in a strange, rather thoughtful way. She knew all about him and his funny ways. He never spent two coins where one would do, and he never bought a new shirt or pair of shoes until the old ones were worn through to nothing – he would rather go cold and uncomfortable that spend money before he really had to. In fact hardly anyone had ever seen the carving and woodwork in the house – because no one was ever invited, unless they came to pay money they owed him. And even then they had to wait in the hallway.

     Years earlier, when they were just married, Neb and his wife had had a baby girl – and that was when they had sent their eider feathers back to his grandmother. They had been happy together, all three of them. But the little girl had fallen ill and died – and a great change came over the house. No more laughter, and Neb had felt a door close in his heart. Never again had he wanted to do anything for himself, let alone anyone else. He just – lived. Without feeling anything at all, except for his terrible loss. 

     Neb’s wife had felt the same at first, and she understood exactly how her husband felt. But as time went on she began to hope that, somehow, Neb would change – “let a little sunshine into his heart” as she used to say. But he never did, and so the house became gloomier and gloomier. The world and life itself seemed to pass them both by. 

II

     Lem and Phee- with Imo in the lead – arrived at the town rather late. They had been walking for a long time since leaving Lem’s father, and now they were tired, footsore and very hungry. They had left all their food with the old man and there were no shops in the forest or the fields along the river bank! A warm glow shone from the window of the first house they saw as they arrived, so Lem went and knocked at the door. A jolly-looking woman opened.

     “Hello” she said, “what are you all doing out so late? Where are you going?”

     “We are looking for my brother who lives here”, Lem replied “and we hoped that someone might know where to find him.”

     “Well, I might” the woman said. “I have lived here all my life and there are very few people here that I don’t know and can’t call my friend.”

     She was a jolly woman and a welcome sight to the travellers after their adventure. 

     “”What does he do? What is his name?” she asked.

     “He is a carpenter and a wood carver” said Lem.

     “There are a lot of those here. They build the houses make our furniture and work on the boats. What is his name?”

     “Neb” said Lem with a smile on his face. He knew now that he was on the right. But the woman did not smile back.

     “Neb!” she said. “He lives here, if you can call it living. I have to say that I’m sorry he is the only person you know in our town. Anyway, that’s how it is in this world. You have to take the rough with the smooth, if you know what I mean.”

     Lem was not happy to hear this. Now he didn’t know what to say or do.

     “But you” the jolly woman said, taking a deep breath, “all look like such nice young people. Tell me, have you come a long way, and, even more important, have you had any dinner?”  

     Again Lem didn’t quite know what to say. He was embarrassed, meeting such a jolly and welcoming woman who seemed to think so poorly of his brother. There are people who have only to look into your eyes, especially when you are unhappy or have troubles, and understand what you are feeling and what they can do for you. The jolly woman was one of these – and, of course, she knew straight away what Lem must be thinking.

     “I should not have told you” she said, “but, at the same time, it is true. And yet, it is also true that your brother has had bad luck, very bad luck.” And she told them about Neb their poor daughter. “Perhaps seeing his brother will help him out of his sadness. Let us hope so. Anyway, you still haven’t told me how far you have come and how long it has taken you and – most important – if you have had any dinner.”

     In truth, the jolly woman had talked so much – even though what she said was both true and kind – that Lem had had no chance to answer her questions.

     “We have come from the forest close to the town, and we have been walking, led by this marvellous dog, for three days. And, I am afraid, we haven’t had anything to eat except berries all that time.”

     The woman went white at the mere thought of going for so long without a proper meal.

     “Then you must eat now!” she said.

     “Thank you”, said Lem “but we need to hurry. It is already late and I am eager to see my brother after all these years. Please don’t think we are being rude, but –“

     “Of course not” the woman said. “But I cannot let you go with nothing. Here” and she turned to a huge dresser standing behind her where there was a pie and a cake and a loaf of bread. She cut each of these in half and then into three large portions, one for each of them and wrapped them in a cloth.

     “I think you may be pleased to have these with you. I might be wrong – but take them in any case.”

     “How can we thank you?” We are just strangers and you have opened your door to us and given us all this” cried Lem.

     “If we cannot do such an easy thing for one another, then what are we?” was all she said. “But if you do want to repay me, then, when you have seen your brother, tell him that he should come and visit me with his wife – and soon”

     Then she pointed the way to Neb’s house and patting Imo, sent them on their way.

III       

     Neb and his wife were at their table. A single candle shed a little light and each of them had a piece of bread and a bowl with thin soup in front of them. Neb licked up his spoon – when there was a knock at the door.

     “Who can that be at such an hour?” asked Neb’s wife.

     “Ignore it. Probably beggars. Nothing to do with us” said Neb crossly, and picked up his spoon again. A second knock sounded, a little louder this time.

     “Bother!” said Neb, even crosser now. “Go and tell them to go away. Don’t open the door. Just shout to them!”

     “That is so rude” said his wife, “and anyone coming so late must –“

     “Be a nuisance! I’ll go myself.”

     But before he could even get up there was a third knock and this time really loud.

     “Go away! I’m having my dinner. Go away and leave us in peace!”

     “Please, please” a voice called from the street. “Please just open and see who it is.”

     “I don’t want to see who it is! I just want to eat my dinner. Go away!”

     Then a dog began to bark.

     “No Imo” a woman’s voice said, “we don’t want to frighten anyone.   Please, “she repeated as the dog went quiet, “please open and see who we are. Truly, you will be surprised.”

     “I’m sure I would be. But I don’t want to be. Go away!”

     There was a short silence. And then, just as Neb thought they had gone, the first voice called out –

     “Neb. It’s Lem, your brother.”

     Neb’s wife heard her husband stumble in the hallway. She ran out and took hold of him, frightened that something terrible had happened.

     “What is it? What is the trouble?” she asked anxiously.

     Neb just stood there in silence.

     “What is it husband?” she asked again.

     “It’s my brother Lem” he said.

     “Then open the door quickly. After all these years you surely don’t want him to go away?”

     “Carefully Neb opened the door and peered out. There he saw a young man, a young woman – and a dog.

IV

     Eventually they all found themselves standing in the hallway. None of them seemed to know what to say. After a minute, Neb’s wife said –

     “Well, we can’t stand here in silence all night! You have probably been travelling – come inside and sit down. Have you eaten yet?”

     Then Lem told her about the jolly woman – and produced the food she had given them.

     “Ah” said Neb suddenly. “Well, there we are. I – I wasn’t sure what you all might want after all there are just the two of us here, and, well – we – we aren’t used to visitors.!

     “Please don’t worry” said Phee. “We have plenty to eat here and all we need is somewhere to sleep. I’m sure that you and Lem will want to sit and talk together after so many years.”

     “Oh yes, of course” said Neb. “But for somewhere to sleep – There is a room, but we don’t keep a bed ready or anything.”

     “Just a bed” said Phee. “That’s all – and a little warmth.”

     They went into the main room – where Neb and their bowls of thin soup were still on the table. Lem glanced at it and wondered why the two of them had such a poor supper when they had such a comfortable house. He could see that Neb was terribly careful about how he lived. Thin soup, one small candle to light the room and worn clothes.

     They all sat at the table and ate the food the jolly woman had given them. Lem watched as his brother carefully ate only part of the bread and pie, setting half aside for another time.

     “Poor Neb” he thought to himself. “I wonder why he is so mean – even with himself.”

     Then, little by little, Neb and Lem began to tell one another about everything that had happened since they last saw each other. Lem told how he had left home after their grandmother had died. How he had rescued the boy up in the mountains, how he his pillow had nearly been stolen by the Tumbling Tumblies, how he had won his purse of gold – he saw Neb’s mouth drop open when he reached this part of the story – how he had been kidnapped by the sailors, how he had met Phee – who smiled at this bit – and then how they had both been lost in the forest and finally discovered their long lost father. Neb’s mouth fell open again here and he asked Lem all about him, and Lem told him about the Robbers of the North and how, when he had found all his brothers and sisters, Imo would go back and fetch the old man so that he could be with his family again.

     “But what about our mother?” asked Neb

     “I don’t know” replied Lem. “Perhaps we shall have good fortune and find her too.”

     “That would be wonderful” said Neb, who began to seem a nicer person than he had looked at first, and Lem saw him wipe away a tear.

     “But what has happened to you?” Lem asked.

     “Ah” said Neb, and told him how he had wandered from town to town, working as a carpenter and wood carver until he had arrived here, where he had done work for a merchant – who had a lovely daughter. Here he stayed and worked so well that the merchant made him his partner and, eventually, agreed to him marrying his daughter. (Neb’s wife smiled a little at this part of the story). The merchant had died, but they had had a little girl.

     “Oh, you should have seen her” Neb’s wife suddenly said. “Her hair was as golden as the sunshine and her eyes sparkled like the morning dew” and just as suddenly, she stopped, and cried a little.

     “But what happened?” asked Phee.

     “She fell ill – we do not know how or why, and she died” said Neb, “and nothing has been quite the same again. We have a quiet and lonely life now. The world does not seem such a warm and friendly place anymore.”

     They were all silent again.

     “How terrible” Lem said. “But people know of your loss – and they would like to help you – to offer their friendship” and he told Neb what the jolly woman had said.

     “Perhaps” Neb replied. “But who can know the deep pain in our hearts?”

     Neb and his wife took the candle and led Lem and Phee up the dark, narrow stairs to the room they were to sleep in. It was bare except for a chair and a bed with nothing on it. Neb opened the door – and left them standing there.

     “No one has slept in this room since our little girl died” said Neb’s wife.

     Phee let go of Lem’s hand and put it on the wife’s shoulder.

     “I am so sorry” she said, “it must be the most terrible thing to see your child die” she said, and held Neb’s wife tight against her.

     “You are a good, kind person” she said at last, “I am afraid that Neb and I have not been the same people since she died. But Neb is still a good person underneath all his sadness and bitterness. I know that you will understand. Perhaps your coming here will help us.”

     Just before she left, Lem said –

     “I can see how things are with you, and of course I understand and I am sorry. But – it is so cold here and we are so tired with walking, could we have a little warmth for the night?”

     “All I can offer is a few of the coals still warm from the fire. That is all we have – but we can share them with you.”

     “That would be kind” Lem replied.          

     And so with a little warmth in the grate from the dying coals, and from their two bodies lying close against one another – not to mention Imo who had settled at the end of the bed – they laid their heads on Lem’s pillow and fell into a deep sleep. 

V

     The next day they found as little to eat for breakfast as there had been for dinner.

     “I know” said Lem, “if I go and buy some eggs and a fresh loaf, we can all have a hearty meal together. We will need it, for Phee and Imo and I still have a long way to go.”

     “But you cannot leave so soon, can they Neb?” said his wife, “at least stay another day.”

     “Well – yes – I suppose so – but all that light, and the coals and the food – “

     “Please stay” said Neb’s wife.

     Lem smiled at her and went straight off to buy eggs and bread. As soon as he had returned a marvellous breakfast was prepared.

     “My, what a feast” even Neb said, with a smile. “All this must have cost a pretty penny!”

     “We have to eat, and in any case I can afford it – especially for my older brother!”

     “I don’t know what to say” replied Neb. “It is so long – or so it seems – since any kindness entered our house.”

     “I think” said Lem, as carefully as he could, “that you have to open the door to it – or how can it enter? You have had a great sadness in your life, and there is great sadness out in the world, but there are happiness and kindness as well. But it is we who make both.”

     Then Lem went up to their room and brought down his pillow in its beautiful coloured case.

     “What is that?” Neb’s wife exclaimed.

     “This is the pillow I made for our grandmother as she was dying” Lem said. “I made it from all their eider feathers that you and our brother and sisters had sent her when their children were born, so that she might know your happiness.”

     The Lem told them how their grandmother had given it to him and said “Come here and kiss me and when I am gone and when I have no more need of it, take it with you and keep it – keep the memory of how you comforted me with it as you go out into the world.”

     “I can see her as you speak” said Neb, “and all her kindness and goodness. Oh!” and he turned to his wife, with his eyes shining like little drops of water, “how much we have lost.”

     “But perhaps now we can make ourselves strong and go out and start to find it again” said his wife.

     Neb was not a bad or a mean man. Perhaps there are no really bad or even mean people in the world, only men and women who have been pushed and pulled one way or another by what has happened to them. What they need is to be gently pushed or pulled back into the right way again – and that is what Lem had been able to do for Neb. As he listened to his brother and looked at him and his pillow, all his memories of their happy life together came back into his mind and became part of his life again. He looked across at his wife –

     “Yes. Let us try and do that. Lem has reminded me of our grandmother, who was so good and kind and, I think, strong in the happy times and the sad times.” Then he turned to Lem and, a little shyly, said “Please do not think that I am silly – but could I hold that pillow, just for a moment?”

     “Of course” answered Lem, “It is only a pillow, however special it is to me. What it means to me is not because of anything that is in it – but because of what it helps me remember is inside me.”

     Neb carefully took the pillow and hugged it – as his father had done back in the forest. He shut his eyes tight and there was his grandmother standing before him and holding her hands over him and his young wife on the day they were married, and then giving them their own eider geese. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw his wife smiling at him. Gently re reached over and took her hand.

     “Yes” he said again, “let’s try.”

VI

Neb insisted that Lem and Phee and Imo stayed at least two days more. And then Lem said it was time for them to go. Neb agreed reluctantly – but he understood why they had to leave.

     “When shall we meet again?” he asked.

     “Have no fear” answered Lem, “it will be at the most within a year – that is what I promised our father. Imo is either to return to him to live in the forest or bring him back to wherever I may be. We shall meet within the year.”

     Neb could hardly bring himself to let his brother go, he held on tightly to his hands as they stood at the door.

     “Remember now” said Lem as he finally got free, “go and visit that jolly woman who was so kind to us and wants to do the same for you.”

     “We will” said Neb’s wife, “won’t we?”

     “Yes, of course” Neb answered. 

     Then they hugged and kissed again and Lem, Phee and Imo slowly walked off down the little street, turning just as often as they could to wave to Neb and his wife. None of them could see very well – their eyes were so full of tears – but tears now of happiness springing up from hearts that were fresh and full of hope.”

Chapter 7 – How the pillow fought a great bull

I

     Soon the three of them were beyond the town and out in the countryside. Neb had told his brother that one of their sisters, Eena, lived somewhere to the north on a farm in the middle of the great plain before you came to the mountains. It was, he had been told, a long way. But the three of them were full of energy and good cheer and enjoyed looking at the cottages with their gardens, the farms and all their animals, and the fields filled with different coloured crops all swaying in the breeze. Every now and then they stopped and sat in the shade of a tree to eat their bread and cheese or cuts of cold meat. By night they stopped at an inn or, if there were none, a friendly farmer would let them sleep on the sweet-smelling hay in his barn. 

     So they travelled on, day after day under the most beautiful blue sky and bright, shining sun. Each time they stopped for the night, or whenever they met anyone on the way, they would ask if they knew the place where Lem’s sister lived, and every now and again someone did and pointed them in the right direction.

     Eventually they came quite near and then people would ask what her name was.

     “Eena” Lem said “and she has long brown hair and deep black eyes – like me.”

     “Oh yes”, said the woman who owned the inn where they had stopped that night, and told them where the farm was “and” she added “watch out for those twins. And the bull!” she added.

     “A bull!” said Phee. “I’ve never seen a bull. How exciting.”

     “Well, yes” Lem replied, “I haven’t really, either. We only had a milk cow – and the eider geese of course, on our farm. But thank you” he said to the woman, “we will take great care. Bulls can be quite fierce I think.”

     The woman laughed.

     “Yes they can. And Eena’s is very fierce indeed. Watch out!” she shouted as they walked off, excited at the thought of seeing Eena, and her husband – and maybe their children – and even a fierce bull.

 

 

II

     Ena lived on a farm with her husband Jed and the twins. The three were warmly welcomed and immediately made to sit down at a long wooden table for lunch. It took a long time to eat the meal because Eena and Lem had so much to ask one another and tell one another – and the twins kept on interrupting. They were identical twins – no one could tell which was which, they were as alike, people used to say, as two peas in a pod. “But we aren’t peas! We aren’t green and we don’t live in a pod” and everyone agreed – and laughed.

     The twins were a handful. They loved the farm and all the animals. They loved to help with everything – feeding the baby lambs and looking after them if they were unwell. They collected fresh eggs from the hens and carried them to the kitchen for breakfast. They even helped carry the great pails of milk from the cows and managed to spill as little as possible. Sometimes they helped turn the milk into butter or cheese and then, when the butter was made, pat it into neat squares, pressing down the farm mould in the shape of a tree and then wrapping each piece ready for the market.

     All of this was such fun. The only trouble was that every now and then the twins found their own ways of having extra fun in ways that were not quite as helpful. For example, the eggs. The eggs were lovely and smooth and round and it sometimes seemed a great shame not to see how well they could roll along the ground, or across the top of the table in the kitchen. Of course they didn’t always roll as well as the twins hoped. They rolled off the edge onto the kitchen floor. What a mess! The milk was another matter. It made such a wonderful slurping noise as they carried the great pails across the farmyard – and what a game to see how near to the top of the pail you could get it without spilling any! On the days when the twins were allowed to carry the milk the farmyard usually looked as if it had been snowing! But the best was the butter. It was alright churning it and it was alright patting it into shape and it was alright stamping the tree on the top. But when it was finished it just looked too yellow and rich and creamy – and tasty. If you stuck your finger in and sucked it – well, it was too tempting for words!

     So their mother and father had to be careful and watch whatever the twins were doing. This was extra important when it came to the animals, especially to make sure they closed the sheep pens and chicken coops so that the animals couldn’t get out and lose themselves. They were never allowed to open the big gate into the field where the horses and cows lived. And of course they were kept well away from the field with the bull.

     But – it’s a strange thing in this world, that anything you are allowed to do, however much fun, is never as much fun as the things you’re not allowed. The twins loved helping with all the farm tasks – but they enjoyed their own special ways of doing them even more. If you had asked them if they knew that what they were doing was naughty, they would just have laughed and looked down at their feet. But they weren’t deliberately being naughty – they were just having fun.

III

   After Lem and Phee had been on the farm for a week, it was time for Eena and Jed to go to the market where they sold their eggs and milk, butter and cheese. Usually this was quite difficult because of the twins whom they had to take with them and who tried to help at the market stall – in their usual way! In other words half the time they would stand next to Eena and Jed and hand out things to give the customers – and the other half they spent hiding and running away and generally getting into trouble. So that what with one thing and another, Eena and Jed were only able to spend about half their own time actually selling anything.

     But this time they didn’t have to take them with.

     “We could look after the twins” said Phee.

     “Oh yes please!” the twins shouted together, looking craftily at one another.

     Eena saw this and knew what they were up to. Of course Phee and Lem wouldn’t be as strict. Still there wasn’t much they could really get up to. But then Lem suddenly said –

     “I would love to come to the market with you. It would be just like old times.”

     “But what about the twins?” asked Jed.

     “Oh don’t worry about us” said the twins, “we will be as good as gold – with Phee. We like Phee” they added, giving one another that crafty look again – which Ena also noted.

     “I’m not at all sure” Eena said.

     “Oh please” said the twins, “really we will be soooooooooooo good.”

     “I’m not so sure” Eena said again.

     “Come on, Eena” said Jed, “What harm could there be? What do you think, Phee?”

     “I’m sure it will be just fine” Phee replied. “You will be good and look after me, won’t you?” she asked the twins in her nicest, kindest voice.

     “Oh yeeeeees” they said, “of course we will. Woooooon’t we?” they asked one another – and they both nodded a crafty “Yes”.

 

IV

     So Phee and the twins stood at the farm gate and waved Lem, Eena and Jed off. Imo stood next to them and wagged his tail.

     “Well” said Phee, “what would you like to do?”

     “Oh I don’t know” said the first twin, as though he hadn’t an idea in his head. “What do you think?” he asked his brother.

     “What would you like?” the second twin asked Phee, as though they would do whatever she liked.

     “What do you suggest?” Phee asked, “I don’t really know what there is to do.”

     “We could take you for a walk all round the farm. There’s lots to see – ”

     “All the chickens, and the sheep.”

     “And the cows and the – ” here his brother nudged him sharply in the ribs.

     “And what else?” asked Phee.

     “The duck pond” said the first twin.

     “Oh yes. The duck pond” said the second and put his hand tightly over his mouth to hide a grin.

     “That would be lovely” said Phee. “I have never seen a proper farm. I have lived all my life by the river and all I have seen are fishermen and fishing rods and fish. Where shall we go first? What about the duck pond?”

     “Er, no. Not the duck pond” said the first twin.

     “Not that smelly old duck pond!” said the second.

     “Not first, anyway” the first added.

     “There are much more interesting things to see than that” said the second – and Phee thought she saw them trying hard not to laugh.

     So off they went with Imo trotting behind and stopping now and then to sniff something or bark at one of the animals.

     First they went to see the chickens where the twins showed Phee how they collected eggs every morning. Phee heard all the clucking and saw the little chicks running about – and even found an egg of her own.

     Next, they went to see where the butter, cream and cheese were made. The dairy was lovely and cool, and Phee wanted to know what all the different urns and churns were for. The twins showed her the butter pats – and even had a fight, banging one another on the head with them. Then they showed her the butter mould with the sign of the tree on and how it worked by pushing it down hard on her arm!

     “Ow!”” she shouted, “that hurt.”

     “Sorry” said the first twin.

     “Oh I am sorry” said the second. “We are only used to doing it on butter – ”

     “- and butter doesn’t shout” added the first looking away at the wall so that his face could not be seen.

     Next they went to see the sheep. Phee loved their curly wool and the way the little lambs snuggled up to her. They all stood looking over the fence and laughed at the way the sheep followed one another about and then suddenly started to run one way and just as suddenly stop. Imo enjoyed it too – and let everyone know by running up and down the fence and barking.

     “Gosh, Imo likes sheep” said the first twin.

     “What a shame he can’t go and play with them”

     “Oh no, I’m sure he can’t” said Phee, “he would give them a terrible fright.”

     “But what fun he would have” said the first twin.

     “And so would they – they’ve never seen a dog like Imo before” added the second.

     “Well, there you – “and before Phee could finish her sentence – whoops, the first twin who was standing right by the gate somehow slipped and fell against it with all his weight and pushed it open – and in ran Imo.

     “Imo! Imo!” called Phee. “Come back here! Come here Imo! Please!”

     And, eventually, Imo did. He turned around and trotted happily back to Phee, leaving the sheep huddled together in the far corner of the field, shivering and shaking.

     “However did that happen?” asked Phee as she pulled the gate to.

     “It was an accident” said the first twin.

     “Accidents do happen” added the second. “No harm done. Come on, let’s go and see the cows.”

     Phee loved the cows, all standing so quietly and thoughtfully, munching the grass. As they approached the some of them looked up for a moment, thought about what they had seen, and went on munching. One, who stood quite near the fence looked at Phee and mooed.

     “Here!” called the first twin and gave Phee a handful of grass. “Hold it out like this.”

     Phee was a bit nervous of the twins by now, but she took the grass and held her hand over the fence. The cow looked up again and walked slowly across to her and gently took the grass in his big, wet mouth. Phee was delighted and smiled at the boys

     “What is in that field over there” asked Phee, pointing quite a way off.

     “Oh, that’s just a field” said the first twin.

     “It’s empty – as far as I know” added the second.

     “As far as we know” repeated the first. “We’ve never seen anything in it.”

     “But we could go and have a look anyway” said the second, “there might be some flowers there.”

     “I love flowers” said Phee.

     “Well then” the twins said together, “let’s go – and just have a look.”

V

     By now it was quite late and nearly the time when Lem and his sister and her husband would be coming back from the market.

     “Perhaps we should go back though” said Phee, “the others will be back soon and they’ll wonder where we are.”

     “Oh no” said the first twin. “That would be a shame. We’ve almost seen everything on the farm.”

     “Except the duck pond” said Phee – and wondered why the boys giggled. “How long will it take us to get to the last field?”

     “No time at all” they both said and gaily stepped out towards the field that ran from the end of the farm up to the woods.

     When they got quite near there was a tall stick with something nailed to the top. It had once had writing on it but which the rain and snow had washed away.

     “What is that?” asked Phee, “isn’t it a notice about something?”

     “We don’t know” said the first twin, “do we?”

     “No. Probably – I don’t know. Come on!”

     And on they went until they came to a path beaten through the deep grass and, where it finished by the field, with a fence of extra thick wood and a gate with two heavy bolts on it.

     “Goodness” said Phee, “what is this?”

     “Probably nothing” said the first twin.

     “Probably something from the old days” added the second.

“Oh well. Come on then” said the first, and started walking along the side of the field. Phee and the second twin followed with Imo barking suddenly and running up and down next to them. The field was certainly empty as far as they could see. And sure enough there were beautiful flowers growing in clumps dotted over the grass. There was also a large pond in the middle of it, with ducks happily swimming about.

     “Look!” shouted the first twin, “I told you there was a duck pond. There it is. The sign probably meant ‘Take care of the ducks’ or ‘Don’t bother the ducks’.

     “Or ‘Please feed the ducks’” the second twin said hopefully. “Come on, we can give them some of the bread we have left over from lunch.”

     Before Phee could say anything, the boys had clambered up and over the fence and were running – shouting at the top of their voices – towards the pond. Then they threw off their shoes and started to paddle in the water. The ducks flew up into the air, making a great squawking noise and the twins shouted and laughed louder and louder.

     Then, from nowhere, came a loud thudding on the ground. It sounded like thunder and with it there was a dreadful snorting and roaring. Phee heard it first – the twins were making so much noise they couldn’t hear anything. She grabbed the top bar of the fence and climbed up to look across the field. It was a bull! Huge and black and angry – and charging straight at the pond.

     “Look out” she cried and Imo barked as loudly as he could. Now the twins heard them. They stopped splashing and looked up and, when they saw the bull, just stood in terror rooted to the spot.

     “Quick, run” shouted Phee.

     The boys understood what danger they were in, jumped out of the pond and tried to run back to the fence. But the field was full of prickles and stones so that, without shoes on their feet, they couldn’t run at all. In any case, the bull was nearly on them and, seeing Phee and Imo, ran in between them and the twins.

     “Help” Help!” they cried.

     Phee started waving her arms to distract the bull, but it was no use. He knew he couldn’t reach her because of the fence, so he was only made angrier by all the waving and shouting. He turned back towards the twins and charged at them.

     “Run!” shouted Phee. “Run in different directions each of you!”

     They boys split up and tried to run, but the bull didn’t care. He chased one and then turned and ran towards the other. They only just kept ahead of him, but at each charge the bull came closer, lowering his head and shaking his great sharp horns.

     Phee knew she couldn’t help.

     “Imo” she said quickly, “back to the house!” And off he went followed by Phee running behind him, hoping that Lem and the others would be there.

VI

    Luckily, they were. The market had gone well and they had sold all their goods quite early. They were just climbing down from the cart when they heard Phee shouting and saw her running and waving her arms. Quickly Lem ran to her and, in as few words as she could, she explained what had happened.

     “The bull!” Jed shouted. “I knew this would happen. How often have I told them to keep away.”

     “What should we do?” asked Lem.

     “We have to get the bull away from the children and then get them out of the field.”

     “How do we do that?” asked Lem.

     “We need a cloth or something brightly coloured to shake at him. Bulls hate bright colours – red especially –   and that will distract him.”

     “What can we use?” asked Eena desperately.

     “I know” said Lem, running into the farmhouse. A moment later out he came, carrying his pillow in its bright coloured case.

     “Here! Come on!” he shouted. Show us the way to the field.”

     “Follow that clever dog” called Phee, and off they went as fast as they could.

     When they got to the field, all they could see was the boys at the far end running and crying where the cunning bull had trapped them. There was nowhere now for them to turn to run – and the bull knew it. He stood looking at them with red, angry eyes. His front hooves pawed at the ground and his nostrils were wide open as he snorted at the children. Then digging his feet into the earth he gave a great bellow and taking a deep breath, pointed his great sharp horns straight at the little, terrified twins.

     With not a moment to lose and before anyone could stop him, Lem leapt over the fence.

     “Make as much noise as you can” Jed shouted, and he, Eena and Phee began calling out and banging their shoes on the wooden fence. Imo started to bark – and rushed under the lowest bar, running after Lem. The bull stopped and looked round. Already Imo was snapping round his legs, running back as the bull tried to gore him, and then up to him again to continue worrying him. After a few seconds Lem arrived and ran round to put himself between the bull and the children.

     “Run!” he shouted. “Run back to your parents!” Then, holding one arm out as wide as he could and waving his hand, with the other he lifted the pillow and shook it at the bull. The bull stood still watching the pillow – its bright colours caught his eye and he stared a frightening stare at it. Lem slowly moved away, trying to get round the bull so he could reach the fence. But the bull wouldn’t let him go. As Lem moved round, so the bull turned, following him with his angry eyes, and making his dreadful bellowing. Now Lem was caught with his back to a tree. If he could somehow get to the other side he might have a chance – the bull would lose sight of him for a moment and he could run. But the bull wouldn’t let him, and now he stood pawing the ground again, getting ready to charge with his horns aimed straight at Lem. Then Lem had an idea. To the other’s amazement, instead of standing still, he started dancing about and waving the pillow right in front of him. The bull had had enough and with a huge effort rushed at him.   He came nearer and nearer and then, at the last second Lem stepped out from behind the pillow. The bull’s horns went right into it, straight through into the tree behind, where they stuck. Quickly Lem pulled the pillow, ripping it as it came away, and ran. The bull angrily shook himself free and followed – but it was too late. Lem threw his pillow over the fence and leapt after it. They were all safe.

VII

     As soon as they got back, Jed and Eena stood the twins one side of the farmhouse table and sat down on the other facing them. The boys were shaking and crying, and Phee felt quite sorry for them, even though they had been terribly naughty. Jed and Eena pretended not to notice what a terrible state the twins were in – they knew that they had to try and make sure they never did anything like it again. This was not just because they had disobeyed their parents, but because, as always, what Jed and Eena had told them not to do was for a good reason.

     “You might easily have been killed” said Eena in a serious voice. “Look how dangerous it was for Lem” and she held up the ripped pillow cover. “That might have been one of you – or Lem!”

     When it was over, the twins were sent to bed with no supper and told to stay in their room in the morning until they were told they could come out. They walked slowly to the door and, just before they left, the first twin stopped, turned round and ran to his mother, his eyes streaming with tears. His brother did the same.

     “We are so sorry. We are so so sorry” they both sobbed.

     “Well, I hope you are – and maybe you should say that to Lem too.”

     Lem stood up, a little embarrassed, next to Eena, and the boys, looking up into his face went and threw their arms around him.

     “We really, really are sorry” they said.

     “I know you are” said Lem. “Please” he added, turning to Jed “they have had such a terrible fright. Can’t they just have a mug of milk and a slice of bread? For my sake.”

     Jed and Eena looked at each other and smiled – but trying not to let the twins see.

     “Oh I suppose so” said Jed. “Come here you two.”

     They walked, looking doubtful at one another. But Jed took each of them by the hand, went to the dresser and cut them a thick slice of bread.

     “Here. And this too,” as he handed them each a mug of milk. “Take these with you to your room – and remember: stay there until we say you can come out. Now. Goodnight!”

     And off they went, at least meaning never to do anything as silly and dangerous again.

     That evening Phee and Eena sat mending the pillow – they knew how much it meant to Lem. As they did so they talked about the future and promised that they would never allow so much time to pass again before Lem and his sister met.

 

VIII

     Then it was time for them all to leave – Lem still had a brother and two sisters to find after all! The pillow had been beautifully repaired and they had a bag filled with everything they would need for the next part of their journey.

     Of course everyone was sad to see them go – and they were sorry too, but they had all agreed that they would see one another again before too long.

     They said their farewells and Lem and Phee were about to start, when the twins held up their hands.

     “Please, before you go” said the first twin,“we have something for Imo. He was so brave and clever when we – we – ”

     “Anyway” the second butted in helpfully, “we have made this for him.” And out of their pockets they took a beautiful red collar and a leather lead. “We know that he is far too clever really to need them” the first said, “but we didn’t know what else to give him –”

     “- and anyway” said the second, “they might be useful one day.”

     Imo looked at the collar and lead – and he seemed to shake his head and smile at the same time. The boys gave the things to Lem, and as he put them away, Imo went over to them and licked their hands.

     Then the three turned towards the road and, taking a deep breath, strode out, turning and waving until the farm and Eena and Jed and the twins were out of sight. But what lay in store none of them could ever have imagined

 

Chapter 8 – How the pillow went to prison

I

     From time to time Eena had heard news of her sister, Perd, who lived not too far away in a village beyond the great wood that bordered their farm. But what she hade heard did not make her happy. Perd had always been jealous and a trouble maker, and it seemed that her husband had had enough of her and left with their only child, so that now she lived a miserable life all alone. In any case, Eena had been able to tell Lem where she lived and had simply told him to be a bit careful of her. But Lem had answered –

     “That was a long time ago. We haven’t seen her for so long. I am sorry that she lives all alone now, but I am sure she will have changed for the better. Let’s hope so. Phee and I and Imo will be welcome and perhaps cheer her up.”

     Let’s hope so” replied Eena and left it at that.

II

     At first the way was simple – just one long road towards the wood. But once they reached it and the trees grew thicker it became much harder. In fact it was only because of Imo that they were able to find their way. That clever dog somehow knew – or sniffed – the paths and tracks they had to follow. Twice they had to spend the night in the woods and Imo sat guard all night, just in case. But they were safe enough and eventually Imo started barking and excitedly running away and back again and, following him – or his loud barking – there they were, out in the open once more. 

     That evening they stopped at an inn and, for the first time in three days, had a good hot meal – and a huge meaty bone for Imo. They asked the innkeeper if it was far to the village – and if he knew Lem’s sister, Perd.

     “Not far” he said, ”and I’ve heard of her.”

     He didn’t seem to want to say much more. But Lem asked him again.

     “It’s about a day’s walk”

     “And my sister?”

     “You’ll have to ask when you get there. But – ”

     “But what?” Lem asked.

     “But – don’t get your hopes up.”

     And it was obvious that that was all he was going to say.

     The next morning they were off bright and early and by the late afternoon they could see a church spire in the distance and as evening came on they saw the first few houses. It was only a small place and Lem was sure there would be no difficulty finding his sister. He knocked at the first house. But, although he was certain he had seen someone inside, there was no answer. The same happened at the next, and the next.

     “Not a very friendly place” said Phee.

     “No. But there is probably a reason. Come on” said Lem.

     Eventually, about five houses later, they were successful. After knocking and waiting they heard heavy footsteps and, following a lot of unlocking and chain shuffling, the door opened.

     “Yes?” said a big man through just a crack in the doorway.

     “We are sorry to disturb you” said Lem, “but all we need is how to find my sister’s house. We’ve come a long way to find her.”

     “What is her name, then?” growled the man.

     “Perd” Lem replied.

     “Oh, her,” said the man. “Go on through the village and just beyond there’s a cottage standing all on its own. That’s her. And much good may it do you!” and shaking his head, he closed the door.

     Lem knocked again.

     “What now?” the man called crossly through the door.

     “Please” said Lem, “can you tell me why no one else would answer their door to us?”

     “Robbers! Thieves!”. The man shouted and went on locking and chaining up the door.

     “Lem” said Phee quietly, “are you sure you want to see your sister?”

     “Of course I do” said Lem. “I can see that there’s something wrong. But – let’s hope for the best. In any case, we’ve come all this way and we need somewhere to stop. You heard what the man said about robbers and thieves.”

     After a short way they came to the edge of the village and, just as they had been told, they could see a small cottage all on its own.

III

     By now it really was dark – so they weren’t surprised that there was no answer to their knocking. But Lem could see that there was someone inside and, after a bit, he went up to the window and, tapping it with his finger, called out.

     “Perd! Perd! It’s Lem. I’m sure you are there Perd! It’s your brother Lem – won’t you come and answer the door?”

     He did this two or three times and then he saw the light rise up and move across the room. A minute later the door opened.

     “What on earth are you doing here?” a woman’s voice asked.

     “Not much of a welcome!” laughed Lem.

     “And who’s that with you? I don’t recognise her.”

     “It’s my friend, my very dear friend, Phee.”

     “And what about that nasty-looking dog?”

     “Oh Perd. That’s Imo – he saved my life and without him I don’t know that we should ever have got here at all.”

     “I suppose you had better come in” Perd muttered. “What do you want?”

     “Just to see you. We have been seeking out my brother and sisters – and you are the third.”

     “Well, well, well,” Perd said with a funny look on her face. “Just fancy that. Come on, then. I suppose you want something to eat? There isn’t much. But you never did eat a lot!” and she led them into the house.

     While they ate some bread and cheese, Lem told Perd about Neb, and Eena – and the news about their father.

     “Isn’t it wonderful?” said Lem.

     “You are a sentimental lad” replied Perd. “Yes, I suppose so.”

     “Oh Perd”, Phee couldn’t help interrupting, “how can you say that? He is your father. And Lem loved him so much.”

     “Lem can’t remember him” Perd replied, “he left when he was only a child.”

     “That doesn’t matter” said Phee. “In his heart – ”

     “- in his heart! What silly nonsense. And anyway, what has it got to do with you?”

     Phee went red in the face. She didn’t know what to say.

     “Perd. Please. Leave Phee alone. She was just a bit – surprised that you weren’t excited at the news. That’s all”

     “Well. Let her be surprised and keep it to herself. It has nothing to do with her!”

     Even Imo looked glum listening to all this, and Phee was so upset that she got up and sat in a corner at the other end of the room.

     “Now see what you’ve done” said Lem, “and we were so looking forward to seeing you.”

     “Sentimental – as I said before. Anyway, what have you been doing? Why aren’t you at work somewhere? How can you afford to wander about the world like this – or have you been begging your way?”

     “No!” shouted Phee from her corner. “Lem has no need to beg.”

     “Really?” Perd asked with sudden interest.

     “No. He has a great purse of gold.”

     “A great purse of gold? How did he come by that?” she asked.

     “He won it. In a singing competition. The Princess gave it to him.”

     “Oh yes?” Perd laughed, in a rather unpleasant way. “And I suppose the King said he could marry her too! In a singing competition indeed!”

     “It’s true” said Lem. “But I can see we’re not welcome here. Come on Phee. I think that we had better go.”

     “Where?” asked Perd. “No one else will take you in at this hour.”

     “I know” answered Lem. “People are too worried about those thieves and robbers.”

     “So you’ll just have to stay here after all. Won’t you” Perd replied. “There’s my husband’s bed – and he won’t be needing it after all these years” she laughed bitterly, “and he took our son with him – so you’ll be well suited up there.”

     “Perd” Lem said softly, “we really came here because we wanted to see you. Let us go to bed with a little happiness in our hearts.

     “You do whatever you like. You and your gold. My happiness left by the front door years ago!” 

IV

     The next morning Perd was nowhere to be seen. Lem and Phee ate some of their own stale bread and had water to drink – they didn’t want to do anything that might upset Perd any further. They had decided that, tired as they were, they had best be on their way as soon as she returned.

     Suddenly the door burst open and there she was with two men behind her.

     “There they are!” she shouted, “and that’s the so-called singing prize. What they have in that big parcel, who knows.”

     “What is going on?” cried Lem. “Who are these men?”

     “Never you mind who they are. What we want to know is how you came by all that gold – and everything else for that matter.”

     “He told you” cried Phee, getting quite angry.

     “Fairy stories!” Perd shouted back. “Singing prizes and a Princess! We’ve had enough thieves and robbers round here for me to know one when I see one.”

     “But he’s your own brother!” cried Phee again.

     “So what? What has that to do with it? Come on” she turned to the two men “take them to the Magistrate.”

     “What?” cried Lem.

     “Don’t make any trouble” said one of the men. “Just come along with us nice and quietly.”

     “Why? Where? What for?” asked Lem.

     “This woman says you are carrying stolen goods – so we have to find out if it’s true or not. If it isn’t – there’s nothing to worry about. Now. Come along.”

     “And you” the other man said to Phee.

     “Why?” shouted Lem angrily.

     “Your accomplice” the man answered. “We’ll soon see.”

     The two men led Phee and Lem off – with Perd, looking very pleased with herself, following – and Imo, his tail drooping, after them all. Soon they came to the house of the man who had opened the door to them last night. Here they stopped and knocked loudly. The man came out.

     “Are these them?” he asked. “Oh it’s you two is it?” he said in a knowing voice. “Late travellers – coming from nowhere and off who knows where! Put them in the lock-up. Your in luck – if that’s what it is – the Magistrate is coming through here on his way to the city. He’ll stop here and see what you both have to say for yourselves. Take them away.”

     The lock-up was a shed, with no windows, a muddy floor, no furniture and all covered inside with cobwebs. The men quickly bolted the door – and left Phee and Lem alone.

     “Eena did warn me about her” Lem said. “But I couldn’t believe Perd could be so terribly unkind.”

     “Why has she done this?” asked Phee.

     “I don’t know” said Lem. “Maybe she’ll get some of our gold as a reward. I just don’t know.”

     In fact this wasn’t absolutely the truth. There are all sorts of things that, deep down in our hearts, we know only too well. It’s just that they are too awful to believe. Such unkindness, and from a sister too, was just more than good-hearted, kind Lem was able to think about.

     “What will happen to us?” Phee asked, almost in tears.

     “Nothing said Lem – a little more certainly than he really felt. “We have done nothing wrong. So nothing will happen.” But he was just as worried as Phee. Who knew what Perd might tell the Magistrate, and what kind of a man he would be? But he knew that he had to try to comfort Phee – which made him feel a little better anyway.

     “Come on” he said. “We still have some of that old bread left – and undo the pillow so that you can have somewhere to sit.”

     “What about you?” Phee asked.

     “I’ll sit on the oilcloth – don’t worry about me. We’ll be out of here in no time. You’ll see.”

 V

     Late in the afternoon they heard the sound of a horse and carriage. It stopped just outside the lock-up. Then they heard a man getting out and being greeted.

     “Good afternoon, My Lord” they heard the man whose house it was say.

     “And to you, Master Constable. All well here?”

     “Yes and no my lord.”

     “Not more robberies I hope?”

     “That is for you to decide, my lord. We have a couple of people in the lock-up who may – or may not – be robbers or thieves.”

     “Really? Well then. A little something to eat and drink – and then down to business.”

     “Of course My Lord. This way. As always, what an honour it is to entertain you in my humble home once again.”

     And they dropped out of earshot. 

     Lem and Phee waited and waited. By now they were really hungry and cold. At least Phee had the comfort of the pillow which she sat on and leaned against the wall. But poor Lem was starting to ache, sitting on the oilskin on the hard, uneven floor.”

     Suddenly they heard someone unbolting the door. One of the men who had arrested them half-opened it and held out a plate.

     “Here. The Magistrate has sent this from his own table, And this too” he said, handing them a bottle and two beakers. “Eat and drink this to give you strength when he questions you” and the door closed again.

     “I think he must be a kind man” said Lem, “and I am sure he will see what the truth is. My only real worry is what will happen to Perd.”

     “That must look after itself” said Phee. “She must take the consequences of this terrible thing she has done.”

     “I know” said Lem, quietly. “But if I can I shall try not to get her into too much trouble. What she has tried to do is a serious matter.”

     “You are too kind, Lem” said Phee.

     “It isn’t possible to be too kind” Lem answered her. “But it is true that one must be sensible as well. Don’t worry. I am sensible too.”

     They had only just finished eating and drinking when they heard the bolts being drawn back.

     “Come along,” the same man said. “The Magistrate is ready for you.”

     “What is he like?” asked Phee.

     “He is a Magistrate!”

     “Yes, but what sort of a man is he?” asked Phee again.

     “Fair and just. And as you can see, kind” said the second man. “But very strict. Where a wrong has been done, he is as severe as the law allows to punish.”

     “What is the punishment for – whatever they say we have done?” asked Lem nervously.

     “I would have thought you knew that better that me” the man laughed. “It depends. But it could be hard labour in the mines or in the galley ships for you” he pointed at Lem, “and for your young lady here – I don’t really know. We’ve never had a female robber before.”

     “We’ll be most interested to find out” said the other man. “Anyhow, come along.”

VI

     Inside the house there was a large room. Seated in the middle of a long table, was a man wearing a great hat with a feather in it, and a suit of purple with silver buttons. As Phee and Lem entered they looked hopefully at his face, but he just stared down at some papers on the table. At one end of the table was the Constable. He too was smartly dressed and in front of him was an open book and a quill pen.

     “Why is he here?” whispered Lem to one of the men leading them in.

     “He is our village Constable. And this” he went on, rather grandly, “is his house!”

     At the other end, sat Perd, looking nervous and uncomfortable. Lem tried to look at her, but she turned her head away as they she were afraid of something.

     “We have less than an hour before I depart” the Magistrate said. “So let us begin immediately. You, woman” he turned to Perd, “let us hear what you have to say against these two young people” and it seemed to Lem that there was something kind in the way he had said ‘two young people’      

     Perd sat still.

     “Stand!” said the Constable, “and speak.”

     Perd got up rather shakily.

     “Well?” said the Magistrate. “We have no time to lose here.”

     Perd cleared her throat and looked as though she were trying very hard to remember what she wanted to say.

     “My Lord” she began, speaking very quietly.

     “Speak up woman!” the Constable called.

     “My Lord” she repeated, a little louder. “These two people arrived late at my cottage last night. As you know, we have had many thieves and robbers around here and I was frightened to open my door. They knocked and knocked and then one of them, the man, started rapping at the window. I thought he was going to break his way in – so I went to the door. My Lord, I am a poor woman and there is nothing to steal in my house. My husband left me some years ago and took my only child with him. I live by what I can make – ”

     “This is all very sad” said the Magistrate, “but it has nothing to do with what we are concerned with. What happened next?”

     “I opened the door, really to tell them that I was too poor to have anything worth stealing – when the man said that he was my brother, Lem.”

     “Your brother?” said the Magistrate, “your own brother. Continue.”

     “I was frightened what they might do, so I gave them as much as I had to eat and drink – ”

     Here Lem and Phee looked at one another and almost laughed.

     “- and while they ate I noticed that the man had a large and heavy purse and the woman was taking great care of a large package. All our family are poor but hard-working people My Lord, and I wondered what could be in such a splendid, rich-looking purse. Without any shame, he said it was full of gold. I asked him in astonishment how he had come by it. He said, if you will believe it My Lord, that he had won it at a song festival and that a Princess had given it to him!”

     Here the Constable gave the Magistrate a quizzical look, as though to say ‘Well, there is something fishy going on here!’

     “I am an honest woman and a good villager my lord – ”

     Again the Constable gave the Magistrate a funny sort of look.

     “ – and I am not a fool. I know that Lem is my brother. But wrong is wrong. So, early this morning, before the two of them could get away, I went to the Constable and reported the crime – robbery or theft. And I claim the reward for doing it!”

     “Not so fast woman” said the Magistrate in a stern voice. “Is that everything you have to say against them?”

     “No, my lord. Look at the way the woman is still holding that package. It must be ill-gotten gains as well. Make her open it up so that it can be examined” Perd replied.

     “Well, le us see” said the Magistrate.

     One of the men took the oilskin parcel, laid it on the table and opened it. There was the pillow, in its beautiful case.

     “Where would they have found something like that?” Perd almost shouted. “And look where it has been sewn up. What have they hidden in it I wonder!”

     And it was true, the pillow did have three long lines of stitching across the front.

     “Open it!” said the Constable. “Cut it open.”

     But that was too much for Lem. He walked straight over to the table and, covering the pillow with his arm, said –

     “My Lord, please let me speak before you do that. Please, I beg of you.”

     As he spoke, the two men pulled him away, but the Magistrate held up his hand. He was amazed at what he had heard and seen.

     “Wait then” he said. “I am minded to do as the woman suggests, but if there is any good reason why I should not open the pillow, tell me!”

     “My Lord” Lem began, “it is true that I am this woman’s brother. I have three sisters and two brothers and I am trying to find each of them in turn. I have already found one brother, Neb, and my sister Eena – and it was at her farm that I had to use the pillow to protect myself from her bull. It was attacking her twins who foolishly went into its field – and I had to try to save them. The bull tore the pillow and my sister Eena, and Phee here” and he pointed to her “ sewed it up. You may open it if you wish, my lord – but all you will find are my dear grandmother’s eider feathers.” And as he said this he looked at Perd and said “Your dear, good grandmother’s eider feathers too.”

     “Well” said the Magistrate, who was becoming more and more interested in all of this, “let us say that is true. We will leave the pillow for the moment. What about the gold young man?”

     “As my grandmother wished, I went out into the world when she died to seek my brothers and sisters. They are all I have, my lord. Our parents died – or so we thought – when we very young. After two adventures I came to a great city where they held a song festival and a young couple heard me sing and encouraged me to enter it. It is quite a long story, my lord – but – but the Princess herself, who was one of the judges, encouraged me, and handed me the purse of gold when I won. That is the truth my lord.”

     The Magistrate sat silently for a long time.

     “Describe the Princess” he ordered – and Lem did.

     “Describe the place where the festival was held” he ordered again – and Lem did.

     “Describe the other singers and their songs” he demanded – and Lem did.

     “And tell me what you did afterwards” – and Lem told him about the sailors and their boat.

     “Now sing the song that you say won the prize.” So Lem started – but after a few moments the Magistrate stopped him. “I have heard enough” he said, and again sat silently, thinking. At last he spoke –

     “All of this is true” he said. “I did not recognise you. But I was at the festival, seated, perhaps you will remember, on the balcony behind the king himself. And I heard what happened to the young stranger who had won. The King was very angry, but it was not possible to find the boat in which they had kidnapped you. All of this is true,” he repeated. “Something very strange has happened here today.”

     All this while Perd had grown more and more anxious. She turned this way and that in her chair and then suddenly jumped up and tried to run out of the room.

     “Hold her!” cried the Constable.

     “Not so fast woman” said the Magistrate. “Bring her here – and let her stand where her brother stood just now.”

     Trembling, Perd was placed in front of the great table. She could hardly stand for fear of what might happen.

     “You have told a terrible lie” the Magistrate began, “and worse, you have accused your own, innocent brother of a crime that might have had him put to hard labour for many years – and this young woman too. And why? For a reward that you might have earned at the cost of your own brother’s life. In all my days as a Magistrate, I have never seen or even heard of such a thing.”

     Perd began to weep, sobbing so much that the two men could barely hold her up.

     “What is to be done?” asked the Magistrate. “You yourself have tried to steal what you have accused your brother of stealing. Should you not suffer what he would have suffered if I had not been able to see his innocence?”

     At this point Perd fainted into the two men’s arms. They held her up and, at a nod from the Constable, put her in a chair. Slowly she recovered.

     “What have you to say now?” the Magistrate said in a serious voice.

     “My Lord. What can I say? I am a poor woman – ”

     “Our village is full of poor women” interrupted the Constable, “but none of them would do such a thing as this!”

     “Then what is to be done?” the Magistrate asked – really to himself But,unexpectedly it was Lem who answered him –

     “My Lord” he said, “when my sister finished speaking just now, she said she claimed a reward. What was that for?”

     “For an honest citizen, I’m afraid, who stops a crime being committed. The law allows such a person part of what they save as a reward for their honesty.”

     “Then I claim my reward!” said Lem.

     The Magistrate and the Constable and even the two men looked at him in amazement.

     “But for what?” asked the Constable.

     “My story, which his Lordship understood and believed, has meant that the crime my poor sister meant to commit has been discovered and stopped.”

     “Yes, that is true” said the Magistrate smiling.

     “If she had been believed, then part of my gold would have been given to her as the reward.”

     “Yes it would” said the Constable.

     “But it has been saved. And I would like to claim my reward. But, instead of the gold – I would beg you to let my sister go free!”

     Everyone gasped and looked at Lem in astonishment.

     “This pillow” he said pointing at it “was given me by our grandmother, and when she did so she told me to take it with all the comfort it had given her. Who knows how Perd came to even think of doing such a thing, and to her own brother? What sad things have weighed down her heart to put such an idea into her head? Maybe this will let her see what has happened to her. The reward I ask is the chance for Perd to find her way back to her true self once more.”

VII

     The Magistrate left after wishing Lem and Phee well – and warning Perd what would happen if he ever found her in front of him again. Just as he climbed back into his carriage he had turned to Lem –

     “I have never seen or heard such a thing before” he said, “nor have I ever heard such kindness as you spoke. Here” and he held out his hand, “take this – as the reward you never asked for” and there, shining in Lem’s hand he found a shining ring of gold.

     “My Lord” Lem began – but with a wave and a shake of the great feathered hat, the Magistrate was gone.

     That night Lem and Phee and Imo had a wonderful feast at the Constable’s house. Perd was invited too – but she was too ashamed of herself to come. Lem told the Constable all his adventures – right up to the dangerous bull and the twins – which made him laugh so much he nearly fell off his chair.

     Then they went back to Perd’s cottage. This time the door sprang open as if by magic and, with her eyes cast down at the floor, Perd led them in – and off they went to bed. It had been a very long day!

     In the morning all three of them were up with the sun and ready to travel once more.

     Perd still could hardly bring herself to speak, but as they left she clumsily took hold of her brother and kissed him. She stood with tears in her eyes until all she could see was Imo running up and down and barking, pleased to be out on the road once more.

 Chapter 9 – How the pillow solved the mystery of the ghost

I

     “Well” said Phee, “I hope you and your last sister give us a better welcome that that!”

     “I’m sure she will” Lem replied. “Perd was always a little bit strange.”

     They were both silent for a little while, thinking about Perd. They both hoped that, somehow, they might be able to help her in the future.

     Before long they arrived at a great road with people walking, riding on horseback and in carts. One of these stopped and the man who was sitting on top driving the horses, called down –

     “Do you want a lift somewhere?”

     “Oh yes” Lem called up and both he and Phee climbed into the back of the cart where they sat comfortably on a pile of sweet-smelling hay.

     “Where are you going?” the driver asked.

     “To see my sister – she lives in a house just outside the city. I’m not quite sure where though.”

     “What is her name?”, the man asked.

     “Well, her name is Mag. But her husband is someone quite important I think. His name is Master Brend.

     “Master Brend! Well, well!” said the man. “If I’d known I’d have charged you for the ride!” and he laughed.

     “Of course we can pay” replied Lem.

     “I’m only joking” said the man. “But do you not know who Master Brend is?”

     “Oh no” said Lem, “all I can remember is when he married my sister – and I was very small.”

     “Then you may have a surprise in store!”

     They chatted on as the cart bumped its way along the road. At midday they stopped at a tavern and Lem paid for them all to have a hearty lunch, for which the man was very grateful. Then off they went again. They passed farms and cottages along the way and after a while they could see a great church steeple in the distance.

     “Look! There’s the city cathedral said the man, pointing. “I think we will be near Master Brend’s quite soon now.”

     After a while a wall came into view, running along the side of the road.

     “That’s it” the man said.

    And shortly they came to a double gate beyond which stretched a drive through tall trees.

     “Here we are then. I shall have to let you down here. I can’t go in there.”

     “Why ever not?” asked Phee.

     “That’s not for carts like this. It’s for fine carriages – and gentle folk.”

     “Are we gentle folk then?” Phee asked again.

     “No” Lem laughed, “but we are relations – which is just as good.”

     “Let’s hope so” the man said as he pulled up.

     Lem and Phee climbed down and thanked the man for his kindness. Wishing them good luck he cracked his whip and, waving as he went, carried on down the road.

     Lem and Phee carefully opened one of the gates just enough to be able to slip through. Then, taking a deep breath and making sure their clothes were as neat as possible, they set off down the drive. What would they find, they wondered, in such a grand place?

     Shortly the drive turned sharply to the left into an open space and there in front of them was a house bigger than anywhere they had ever seen – except for the palace where Lem had spoken to the Princess. 

     “My!” said Lem. “Just look at that. Do you think Mag really lives here?”

     “Why not?” replied Phee. “She and Master Brend must be important servants who live up there in the attic.”

     “Ah yes”, said Lem and on they walked, right up to the house. There was the front door – but Lem and Phee felt sure this was not where they were meant to go, so they walked round to the back and knocked at a much smaller one.

     A woman in a white overall opened it.

     “Yes?” she asked in a business-like way. “What do you want?”

     “I’m looking for my sister Mag” Lem replied.

     “There’s no one called Mag working here” the woman said.

     “Oh. We’ve come such a long way to find her,” said Lem. “But perhaps you know her husband, Master Brend.”

     “Master Brend! Goodness gracious!”

     “Is there something wrong?” asked Lem.

     “No! Not at all. No.” said the woman. “He is the master here and you should have come in at the front door. Come in quickly!

II

     Although the house was big and grand – and very old – Lem and Phee were warmly welcomed by Lem’s sister Mag and her husband – who said they must call him Gwill. “My name is Master Dor-Gwillander of Brend – but my friends call be Gwill – so that is what you must do” he said, and Lem breathed a great sigh of relief.

     “What was that for?” asked Mag – and Lem told them all about Perd and how that had made them a bit nervous about how his other sisters might welcome them – and his last brother, for that matter.

     “Well” said Mag, “what did you expect from Perd? – and Lem told her that that was what Eena had said too.

     Then Mag and Gwill showed them to their room and then, Gwill suggested, when they were quite comfortable and rested, they might like to have a tour of the house.

     “It’s really interesting” he said, “and we hope you are going to stay for a while. So, you’d better know your way about – and what to look out for!”

     “Look out for!” they both cried in alarm.

     “Oh yes” said Gwill, “especially the family ghosts.”

     “Ghosts!” they cried again.

     “I’m afraid so – although they’ve never actually done any harm. But they can give you a real fright if you’re not prepared for them!”

     “Prepared for them!” they exclaimed.

     “When you’re ready” said Mag in a voice that was meant to be soothing, “come down to the parlour – and we’ll tell you all about it.”

     When they entered the parlour they found Mag and Gwill sitting in great armchairs and each holding a glass with wine sparkling in it. Gwill offered some to Lem and Phee –

     “It will steady your nerves for my story” he said with a bit of a twinkle in his eyes. And when everyone was ready, he began.

 

 

Gwill’s tale of the Ghosts of Golden Hall

     “Although this house is old there was a much older and bigger one here before. In fact it was a castle that had seen fighting in the wars and terrible deeds. It was the property of the Barons of Brend, from whom I am descended. But the title stopped being used long ago. No one likes to remember the Barons. They were cruel people and it is said that one of them murdered his young bride, and that one of the wives murdered her young husband. In those days a wrong word was enough to bring you to a sticky end! All of them are somewhere out there in the churchyard. In the end, word of the Barons’ wrongdoing came to the notice of the King, who sent troops to arrest the Baron and bring him to trial. But the Baron, another d’Or-Gwillander of Brend, wasn’t going to let that happen. As the soldiers arrived to arrest him he appeared high on the castle walls and shouted “No King will see me in chains or take my castle from me!” and saying this he threw a flaming torch down into the courtyard where he had piled up straw and wood and set the whole castle alight.

     “Nothing could be done. The servant and Gwill’s followers escaped, but Gwill himself was never seen again. He must have died in the flames and his body lay buried beneath the huge stones that fell in the heat of the fire. But he did not die alone. His wife had stood by him through thick and thin and would not leave him now, and so she died by his side. At least, she too was never seen again, dead or alive.

     “But they had had a child, also called Gwill – we are all called Gwill, you see – and he, just a little boy of nine years old, was saved. His nurse had seized him and run from the flames along with the other servants. She took him back to her own family and there she brought him up.

     “When he was old enough, she went to a wealthy merchant who lived nearby and asked to see him. She told him her story – and showed him things that proved that she was telling the truth. She asked him if he would take them both to the King so that the young man could plead to receive back his family lands – and the castle or what was left of it.

     “The merchant was a kind man, although he had had no great love for the Baron of Brend. But, when he met young Gwill he immediately saw what a well-mannered, kind sort of a person he was, and agreed to help. He arranged to take them to the King’s palace and, when they got there, went with them into the great chamber where such things were heard.

     “The King too was impressed by young Gwill.

     ‘You may have once more your lands and castle’ he said, ‘but the title of Baron – ‘

     ‘O Sire’ Gwill said, ‘I have no wish for it. I know only too well how hated it is. What good would it do me? Just Master Brend would be more than enough for me, if it please you.’

     The King smiled, and granted Gwill his wish.

     “So Gwill went back with his old nurse and, for the first time, visited his family castle. There was almost nothing left of it. Only a few blackened walls and piles of stones with weeds and ivy growing over them. But the lands that belonged to the castle were wide and rich, and Gwill set about farming them and helping the other farmers who lived on them on a way no Baron had ever done before. People liked him and everyone prospered, including Gwill himself.

     “As time went on Gwill’s fortune grew, until he was able to build on the site of the old castle – and this is what he built Golden Hall. He married and lived here happily – more happily and more loved than any of the Barons had ever been.

     “Only one thing spoiled this. From time to time there were rumours that a couple, glowing white in the dark, a husband and wife, he in armour and she in old-fashioned clothing, appeared now and then at the farms in the countryside nearby. They would knock loudly at the door and demand what they called their ‘right’ – food and wine – and people were so scared that they always did as they asked. On the few occasions when anyone refused, something bad always happened – a cow would die, or someone fell ill, or something precious would fall and break. And then there was something strange. They always insisted that the food and wine were laid before them on the ground, and said they would only eat and drink when they were left alone. The farmer or whoever served them did exactly as they were told. The plate of food and cups of wine were put at their feet – and then they left as quickly as they could. But in the morning when they dared look out of the door – the food was still there, just as they had left it. Except that the food had turned black and the wine was a deep, deep red – the colour of blood. And then, when they plucked up courage and took the plates and cups away – nothing ever grew there again or, if it did and an animal ate it – it fell ill and died.

     “Gradually the knight and his wife appeared less and less, until people began to forget about them – and even began to think the whole thing was an old wives’ tale. But, funnily enough, they have started to be seen again – or at least one of them has. But not around the farms, but here in the house! I have not seen them, nor has Mag. But late at night some of the servants have – and they have had a terrible fright I can tell you. Just going about their work, walking down the corridors at night, they have heard a moaning sound, like the wind blowing through a crack in the stone-work. Then a strange glowing light and, out of nowhere, a ghostly figure, its arms raised and pointing, as they shuffled towards them. Horrible! Frightening!

     “Two of the maids have seen it who hurt themselves running away. So has our housekeeper who dropped a whole tray of glasses. But maybe it was just a trick of the light or – something. Who knows? “

 

III

     “Now” said Mag, “if you’re not too scared of the ghost, would you like to see the house?”

     “And” Gwill laughed “if anyone sees it, I wish they would ask where the Baron kept his treasure. We could do with it, I can tell you. Any clue would help – or an old map maybe!”

     Everyone laughed again, and off they went. They saw the great staircase, with what looked like two knights of old in armour at the bottom and two more at the top.   Imo started barking, but Lem tapped one of them with his finger and showed him that they were just empty suits of armour.

     At the top of the stairs they came into a long gallery that right ran the whole length of the house. As they started to walk down it the housekeeper approached them. Mag introduced her to Lem and Phee.

     “I do hope your room is well aired and that the bed is comfortable” she said politely.

`”Yes thank you” answered Phee. “I’ve never seen such a lovely big room and such a soft bed.”

     “And are you alright now?” Mag asked the housekeeper.

     “Oh yes. I’m quite alright now. It’s just later, when the light begins to fade that I start to get a bit nervous. The maids won’t come out after dark – and even some of the serving boys.”

     After she had left, Mag explained –

     “She was the one who saw the ghost coming down the stairs and going towards the library – so she said. But she is a rather nervous person anyway. So don’t worry. I don’t think any of them really saw something.”

     “No” added Gwill. “I’m sure they just imagined it” and on he went along the gallery, showing them room after room, all hung with portraits. Gwill told Lem and Phee who they all were – mostly called Gwill – just as he said they would.

     “That’s my father” he said as they stood in front of one of them.

     As they came out of the last room and were back in the gallery, there, right at the end, near their own bedroom, was something hanging on the wall hidden by a black cloth.  

     “What is that?” Lem exclaimed.

     “I’m not sure you really want to see this one” Gwill replied.

     “But what is it?” Lem asked again.

     Mag laughed, a bit nervously. “Oh John, tell them at least.”

     “Very well” he replied. “This is the portrait of the last Baron Gwill of Brend. The one whose castle this house is built over – the one who died in the flames when he burnt it down.”

     “Why is it hidden by that cloth?” asked Phee.

     “We do not exactly want to be reminded of him. And in any case, it’s not a pretty sight.”

     “I would like to see him though” said Lem. “After all” and looked at Mag, “he is a kind of relative of mine too.”

     “Yes” said Gwill, “I suppose that is true. Then ask your sister and see what she says.”

     “I would rather not” said Mag, and turned away from the hidden portrait. “Perhaps another time. I must admit that our housekeeper’s story has upset me too.”

     “Very well then” said Gwill. “Let us leave it alone for now.”

IV

     After dinner Gwill asked his Steward to help Lem and Phee up to their room.

     “I am well aware that the house is rather big and it is quite easy to get lost, especially in the dark” he said.

     “Will we all go upstairs together?” asked the Steward.

     “I think so” said Gwill, “but why do you ask?”

     “It was just at this hour as I was going up the stairs that I saw – it –“ he replied, “and I would prefer not to be alone or with strangers if at all possible” he added. “Please excuse me, sir. But I am not as young as I was and both the housekeeper and I have been quite upset by all this.”

     So, each holding a lighted candle, up they all went. Then, at the top of the stairs Mag and Gwill wished Lem and Phee good night and went off to their own bedroom, while the Steward lead Lem and Phee down the gallery in the opposite direction. When they were almost at the end, the Steward opened their bedroom door and wished them good night. But then he turned and held up his candle – Lem looked and saw him glance, just for a moment, at the end wall – and at the hidden portrait. The Steward shivered and turned away, and then walked as quickly as he could to the staircase that led to his own room in the attic.

     After a while Lem quietly got out of bed.

     “What are you doing?” asked Phee.

     “I want to see that hidden portrait” Lem replied.

     “Oh no!” cried Phee.

     “Why not? After all it’s part of my family now,” and he laughed.

     “Be careful” Phee said.

     “Of what?” Lem replied.

     “The ghost” Phee answered nervously.

     “I don’t believe in ghosts. In any case I’ll take Imo with me.”

     He stepped carefully out of the room carrying his candle and turned to the end wall of the gallery. There was the portrait. He patted Imo and made him sit. Then he took hold of the cloth and pulled it back. The portrait was of a man in ancient clothing, a sword in his hand and a cruel smile on his lips. But what was most alarming were the eyes. The eyes seemed to stare straight at you but never keeping still. Perhaps it was the flickering candle light, but they seemed somehow to move very slightly so that, hard as you looked back at them, you could not seem to hold them steady. They seemed to look deep inside you – and you could not be certain what they saw there! Lem also noticed that one side of the picture and its frame were burnt and blackened – “Could that still be from the great fire?” he wondered.

     Lem took hold of the cloth and pulled it back over the picture.   As he did so he thought he heard something. He turned round. There was nothing there. But Imo’s keen ears pricked up and a second later Lem watched him pad silently towards the staircase. Lem followed him to the top and stood for a moment looking down into the dark hall below. It wasn’t quite dark! From somewhere off to one side there was a faint light.

     “Who can that be?” thought Lem. “Not the housekeeper or the other maids or serving boys – she said they were all too frightened to come out after dark. In any case it’s long after bed time. Maybe it’s Gwill. Yes, that must be it. Who else could it be?”

     Carefully, not wanting to disturb the rest of the household, Lem and Imo went down the stairs. Just as they reached the bottom Imo suddenly ran towards the light, barking loudly. There was nothing Lem could do but follow him. He dashed into the library, a small room lined from floor to ceiling with leather-bound books. As Lem entered he was just in time to see what looked like a figure melt into the wall, leaving Imo sitting in front of a solid wall, barking and scratching at the books with his paw.

     By now everyone was awake. Gwill hurried into the room, carrying a large stick and a candle.

     “What on earth is happening?” he shouted.

     Lem explained, a bit flustered and embarrassed.

     “Not you as well” Gwill laughed. But then he suddenly stopped. “Look” he said, pointing to the table in the middle of the room. There a large, very old book that seemed half-blackened in the fire, like the Baron’s portrait, lay open, with a drop of candle wax on it. “I haven’t been in here for several days, and in any case, not reading that” he said.

     “And there said Mag who had been looking around to see if there was anything else.“Look here on the floor.”

     There, just under the chair, clearly dropped in by accident, was a piece of paper. She picked it up. It was tattered and burnt at the edges so that only a few of the words could be read.

     “Be careful” Gwill said. “It looks as though it might crumble away in your hand.”

     Mag held the paper delicately on the palm of her hand.

     “Whoever it was tore it out of the book – you can see where it came from, just here” and she showed where part of the page was missing. “All these pages are half burnt away and crumbling,” and she read the ragged scrap of paper as best she could

Written under G…..

Where you might lay your head
And comfort………………..
As silent as the dead
……………..so hard a ground
………..the roses grow
…………..as you read
……………………white as snow
Laid  from the heat……..
………………..the cup is on
…………………Yet the billow
Without a fish or swan
You’ll find it on the…………… 

“Nonsense” said Mag “even if we had it all. Just nonsense.”

     “Maybe not – at least we should try to make sense of it – who knows what it means?” replied Gwill.

     “Perhaps” Mag said, yawning, “but surely it can wait until the morning.”

V

     Over breakfast they all agreed that something strange was going on. They also agreed that Lem – and Imo – had heard and seen something, whether it was a ghost or not. That left the disappearing ‘thing’: how had’ it’ vanished like that? Either it hadn’t been there in the first place or else it really was a ghost after all. Gwill shook his head even though he had to agree that this seemed to be the case. Last, there was the piece of paper. It was obviously a poem, probably a clue to something.

     “Maybe to the old Baron’s treasure” Gwill said – only half joking. “Look” he said, “it’s all burnt, on both sides. That’s why there are words missing.”

     “The fire” The fire!” Mag almost shouted, “When the castle burned down! It was burnt down alright – but he left a clue!”

     “Yes” said Gwill in excitement.

     “And” said Lem, “what exactly was that book? Is it something you have been reading?”

     “No. It can’t be. As I said, I haven’t been in the library all week.”

     “Then let’s see what it was.”

     The all went into the library, and there was the huge leather-bound volume still lying open on the table.

     “Well I never” exclaimed Gwill. “It’s the History of Ancient and Noble Families, the old families who were part of the royal court. And look: it’s open at the Barons of Brend. Someone has been looking up our family history. Why?”

     “Remember” said Lem “the poem says it was ‘Written under Gwill’. Maybe someone was trying to find out which Gwill it was.”

     “But they’re all called Gwill” said Phee.

     “Yes. But – I don’t know – whoever it was, was looking for some kind of clue. Something connected with whichever Gwill it was.”

     “Let’s look then,” said Mag. “How does it start? ‘Where you might lay your head’

     “And then ‘silent as the dead’ Lem read. “That must be a graveyard.”

     “Yes” said Gwill “but what is this, all about ‘roses’ and ‘snow’?”

     “And the ‘billow’?” Mag added. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

     “Of course not – it’s a poem with half of it missing” said Gwill. “But the churchyard seems clear. There must be something connecting our family with a churchyard and – something or other. It has to be something important. And it has to be something worth looking for. I think it’s the treasure!”

VI

     Nothing more happened for the rest of the day, except for a lot of excited talking so that, tired out by it all everyone went to bed quite soon after dinner. The only thing that struck Lem was that the Steward who served them at table looked a bit nervous. But that was probably because of all the upset the night before which made him feel even more worried about the ghost.

     The night passed without any excitement at all. In fact Lem was rather disappointed, but Phee and all the others were glad!

     The next morning after breakfast however Gwill suddenly shouted from the library –

     “Look” he said, “someone has been reading the book again!”

     “How can you tell?” asked Mag.

     “I left it open at the same page and put a weight on it to keep the place. See where the weight is now.”

     And everyone looked where he pointed. The weight was on the table. It had certainly been moved.

     “Who?” Gwill asked. “Who can it be?”

     It isn’t any of us” said Lem, “and the doors are all locked at night. So it must be someone in the house.”

     “Yes, but if anyone went along the gallery to the stairs we would have heard them. I am sure that Imo would have, at any rate.”

     “Then they must have go in another way. Or else it really is a ghost” said Mag.

     They looked carefully at the windows, but they were all too high off the ground for anyone to be able to climb in.

     Suddenly Imo started barking and scratching at the floor right in front of one of the great floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Lem went over to him.

     “Here” he said.” Look. There are drops of candle wax right up to the books. Why should that be?”

     “Maybe whoever it was was trying to read the titles on the back of the books “ suggested Mag.

     “Yes. Here’s the gap where the book on the table belongs.”

     Gwill went over to see. He looked into the gap and put his hand in. Then, to everyone’s amazement one whole section of the bookcase swung open and revealed a dark passage.

     “That’s how your ghost vanished!” cried Phee.

     “I have never seen that before. I never knew such a thing existed” said Gwill. “Come on. Let’s see where it leads.”

     The passage was so dark they had to light candles. One by one they slipped through the low, narrow entrance. Inside it was damp and airless. They walked along the stone floor until the reached a staircase. It was rickety and covered with enormous cobwebs.

     “Should we go up?” asked Mag.

     “Why not?” said Gwill. “Come on.”

     The stair creaked at every step however carefully they trod. Up and up it went.

     “We must be at the first floor by now” said Gwill.

     “Yes, look” said Lem, “that crack of light. I think it’s a door.” He found a small handle and tried to open it. “It must be locked” he said, “but I can see the gallery through the crack. We’ll have to carry on up.”

     Up they went again.

     “Where are we now?” asked Phee.

     “I don’t know” Gwill replied. “It must be somewhere near the top floor, but I think we’re too high for that.”

     Now the ceiling started to get lower and to slope.

     “It must be the roof space” Gwill said. “Where on earth are we going? Ah! Another door – we’ll have to crawl through this one. And see! More wax. This is where out ghost stopped to get out of the staircase.”

     But it was also locked. They slowly turned round to climb down again.

VII

     When they were back in the library, they all sat down and discussed what they had found.

     “Well” said Gwill, “it may be a ghost – but he certainly can’t walk through walls! Someone is after something and the clue to it all is in this book and the mysterious poem.”

     “What can it be?” asked Phee.

     “I don’t know” said Lem, “but it must be important – ”

     “ – and valuable” Mag added. “I think you’re right. It’s the lost treasure.”

     “There’s only one way to find out then” Gwill said. “We need to find our ghost – and ask him.”

     “In that case, we need a plan” said Lem.

     “Well, the first thing is, we have to stop him being able to get around the house without anyone knowing. We have to force him out into the open.”

     “Yes” said Lem. “We need to lock this door” and he pointed at the secret bookcase, “and the one on the first floor.”

     “But we haven’t got any of the keys” said Mag.

     “Then they have to be blocked.”

     Carefully they moved the table up against the bookcase. Next they went up to the first floor and searched the walls on that side of the house. But they found nothing in any of the rooms. Then Lem had an idea. He patted Imo and rubbed his head and tickled his tummy – which he loved.

     “Now” he said, “and he held his candle out for Imo to smell. “Find!”

     Imo sniffed the candle and ran out of the room, down the passage and into the gallery. Everyone followed as wll as they could. Down the gallery Imo ran and then stopped – or rather skidded to a halt on the shiny wooden floor – and started pawing again, this time at what looked like a solid wooden panel, just next to Lem and Phee’s room. Gwill went over to it and examined it carefully.

     “Yes” he exclaimed, “this is it. Look, you can see that it is separate from the rest of the panelling. There’s just a thin line that shows where it opens. The hinges must be on the other side.”

     “I remember noticing it, ages ago.   But I just thought it was a locked cupboard. This old house is full of odd things like that,” Gwill added.

     “But it isn’t a cupboard” said Mag. “It’s the door we couldn’t open.”

     “That’s right” replied Gwill. “Well done Imo.” And he bent down to stroke a very happy looking dog.

     “What shall we do now?” asked Phee.

     “Nothing. Yet.” Said Gwill. “But if we’re right about our ghost, then he – or she – will have to come out this way, because the library door is blocked. We must act as though nothing has happened – and then, wait and watch, tonight.”

VIII

     And that is exactly what they did. After dinner they sat and talked, just as usual and then, saying goodnight to one another, went up the staircase to bed. Lem and Phee looked carefully at the secret door as the passed on the way to their room, wondering who or what might come out of it later that night.

     Before they got into bed though, Lem had an idea.

     “If the ghost does appear through at the door, why don’t we set a trap for – it?” he asked Phee.

     “What a god idea. But what?”

     “Something it would trip over. After all, it’s very dark and it won’t be expecting anything. How about – the pillow? It’s big enough to catch anyone. Why don’t I go and lay it right in front of the doorway?”

     Lem took the pillow and did just as he said and then, when he returned, he left the door just a crack open, and went over to Imo.

     “Imo. Lay here” he said “by the door. Listen out!”

Imo’s ears pricked up and he went over to the door and half lay, half crouched. He certainly understood what Lem had said.

     Then Lem slipped into bed, blew out the candle – but there was no chance of going to sleep! He and Phee lay there, yawning but listening for the slightest sound. The clock down in the hall struck eleven, twelve, one and then – nothing. They had fallen asleep at last!

     Suddenly Lem felt something pulling at his sleeve. It was Imo tugging to wake him. He had heard something. Lem woke Phee and jumped up like a shot.

     “Keep very quiet” Lem whispered and listened at the door. Yes, there was something! It sounded like someone coming up a flight of stairs.

     “It must be our ghost” Phee said, “he can’t get out through the library door, so he’s going to try this one.”

     They both went to the door. They could make out thin strips of light – the ghost’s candle on the other side of the door to the gallery.

     Then it opened, with the slightest creak and they heard someone or something step forward and then – crash! as he tripped on the pillow. Lem and Phee ran out followed by Imo. They were in time to see a glowing figure struggle to its feet and turn to run. But Imo was there first barking at it. Now the ghost tried to go back through he doorway, but Lem had closed it. Imo started tugging at the ghost’s shiny cloak and making a frightening growling noise. The ghost tried to get away but lost its balance and fell over the pillow again and this time slid across the wooden floor with Imo still gnashing at him.

     There was another terrific noise. The ghost’s head crashed into the end wall and hit the wooden panelling with such force that the picture of the Baron fell and smashed onto the floor.

     By now the others had arrived. Gwill leapt on the ghost and pulled off the glowing cloak. It was the Steward, shaking on the ground, covering his face with his arm, frightened that Imo would attack him.

     “Ah! You!” exclaimed Gwill. “Come on Lem. Let’s tie this ghost up. We’ll lock him in the cellar and find out what this is all about in the morning.”

     Together they picked the Steward up and pushed him down the staircase and into the cellar, where they sat him on a stone bench and tied him to a great hook in the wall, and locked him in.

     When they got back upstairs Phee and Mag were both laughing.

     “That’s the ghost is it?” Mag said, pointing to a white sheet on the floor. “It’s all covered with craps of silk to make it flutter and shine in the candle light. Very scary!”

     “Well. One mystery solved – but another had only just begun” said Gwill. Bed anyone” We’ll need our wits about us tomorrow.”

IX

     The next day, down in the cellar, Gwill sat down opposite the Steward and asked him what on earth was going on.

     “First you dress up in this ridiculous costume and frighten all the other servants –especially our old housekeeper. Then you start creeping about in secret passages and using the library late at night. Finally, you tear bits of pages out of one of my oldest books and leave it in shreds on the floor! Explain yourself – and if you’re very lucky I will let you go and not take you to the Sherriff! I can only imagine what the Law would do to you after all this!”

     At first the Steward just sat there, not knowing what to say or do. He was obviously in pain – he had hit the wall with his head very hard indeed, and he had been sitting, tied up, all night. Gwill loosened the Steward’s ropes and when he had done this, he stretched a little and began to speak.

The Steward’s family story

   “Master Brand – or Baron Brand as you truly are – first let me tell you how ashamed I am. In the beginning I had a simple idea, but the more I thought about it and how it could be carried out, the more complicated everything became. I never meant to scare anyone or spoil anything. The idea just grew and grew until I seemed to be in its power

     “My family is as old as yours, if I may say so – but, of course, much humbler. Still, we have served you well for many generations. In fact, and this is really it all started, it was my ancestor who, with his good wife, had been Steward and nurse to the family at the time of the last Baron. She it was who saved the young boy and brought him up. And then, when he built Golden Hall and became Master there, she and her husband were sent for and given high posts there. That has run in our family ever since. But more of that later. I can see that you want an answer to your questions – why have I done all this and upset everybody?

     “Well, I can tell you. It was theft. But good theft. Although I am afraid that my reasons for calling it good will make you angrier and the Law more severe with me that the theft itself. But I shall tell you all the same.

     “You are a good Master and a kind landlord, we all know that and feel it every day. But all the same, here you live with a great house, and wealth and lands – the lands on which we too live. Yes, you are a kind landlord, but still we have to work hard. And in a good year, if we are lucky, we have enough to eat, and fuel to cook with and keep warm. But that is all. What we do not have, is time. We work from sun up to sun down every day of the year and when we are not working we eat what we have and sleep. That is all. But you, good Master as you are, have more than enough of everything, and all of the best and, if I may be so bold, only rest – no work at all. I have seen it. You ride and hunt and read and visit and receive guests – and all of this is paid for how? By our work – the rents we pay you and the service we do you. There is no magic in it. Only our work and your comfort.

     “So I was brought up to believe, and I see it as the truth. Forgive me Master, but all that you have is from us – it is in truth ours. And yet we remain poor and you are rich. We labour our whole lives through and you enjoy a life of ease and plenty. So it has always been , I know.

     “When the Baron died in the great fire all that he owned did not die with him. In good time his son returned to his lands and built this fine house. But there was more. There was his wealth – gold and silver, coins and jewels – who knows what else? And whose was all of that? Gwill, the Baron’s son – your ancestor – was told by his nurse – my ancestor – that somewhere all that treasure lay hidden and, so she had heard, not so very far off. The Baron’s son himself had tried to find it – but with no success. And so it happened that every Gwill of Brend knew that there was a hidden treasure – and every Steward knew it too – until it became just a story, a legend and it was laughed at and almost forgotten.

     “This year past was a bitter time for us, Master. Little do you know how hard it was for your tenants, farmers and labourers, to pay your rent. But they managed it – at great cost – less food, less fuel for the fire in that harsh winter time. And one evening my old mother cried out in her sleep “What would I give for one piece of the bad Baron’s treasure? I would sell my soul to know the secret of where it lies!” I heard her and began to think: maybe there really was a treasure, and maybe there is a clue somewhere in Golden Hall to tell where it is. Let me try to find it and share it among us all – you, in all truth, have no need of it. Why should we not have it – and live?

     “Of course I had no idea where it was or where any clue might be. But I started to think. If there were a clue, where better to hide it than in one of the hundreds of books in the library? Some I knew were older than the house – burned at the edges and blackened by the smoke of the great fire that destroyed the castle. It was worth a try. So, for more than a year, every night, I have crept down into the library and searched through the books, one by one.

     “Then, the night before last I opened a history of the Brends – what better place to leave a clue? I came to the page about the last Baron’s father and there, blackened and crumbling was a curious poem written at the end of a half-blank page. I tore it out as carefully as I could, but despite this it began falling to pieces. Still, I had it in my hands – when I heard a noise of feet coming down the stairs. I took fright and quickly went through the secret door. And the rest you know.”

 

X

     The Steward stopped and looked half nervously and half boldly at Gwill, waiting to hear what he would say. When he eventually spoke, the Steward was most surprised.

     “You are right” Gwill said quietly, half to himself. “It is so. And I am sorry for it. It is true that I have always tried to be a good Master and a kind landlord. But there is something wrong about it all. The world, I suppose, is not a very fair place. But there is something now that we can do. As you say, I do not need the treasure – if there is any – so, let us hunt for it, and if we find it, you and I will see that it is shared out among all the servants in the house and the tenants and workers on my lands. You will have to continue helping me look – but without any ghosts this time! You were right – it would have been a good theft – but this way is better, isn’t it?”

     The Steward agreed.

 Chapter 10 – How the pillow found the treasure

 I

     That instant there was a soft knock at the door. Lem came in looking excited.

     “You’ll never guess what we have found” he said breathlessly.

     “What” asked Gwill.

     “Come and see” Lem replied.

     The three of them went up from the cellar and Lem led them to the gallery where the portrait of the Baron was still leaning against the wall where it had fallen. There they met Phee and Mag who seemed just as excited.

     “Look!” Mag called out as she saw Gwill coming. She pointed to the picture, not the actual portrait – but the back.

     “Remember what was written at the top of that scrap of poem? Written under G? Well, what it said was Written under Gwill, just as we guessed. But we though it meant ‘written under Gwill’s rule’, or under ‘Gwill’s dictation’ or something like that. But what it really meant was ‘under Gwill’s portrait’ – and here it is on the back.”

     There, pasted on the back of the picture was a small piece of ancient, crinkled paper – and on it was the whole poem whose bits they had found in the library.

     “This must be the original” Gwill said. “The other was copied into the family history to keep it safe. Come on. Let’s read it.”

     “Maybe we should read it somewhere private” Lem suggested.

     “No, no.” Gwill said – and explained briefly all about the Steward and how they were going to hunt for the treasure together. “And in any case” Gwill added, “the Steward knows far more about the house that we do – so he will be of the greatest help.”

II

     Once they had read the poem two or three times – they all looked just as puzzled as before.

     “It still doesn’t make any sense” said Mag. “And why is there a word missing at the end?”

     “It isn’t a very good poem either” Lem laughed. 

     “That’s not what it’s meant to be. It’s a riddle. It’s meant to put the wrong people off the track”

     “We’re being put off alright! said Mag..

     “No we’re not” Gwill interrupted, “and we’re sticking with it. We’ve got to work it out. So. Let’s examine it carefully. It is in three verses. Maybe we should look at them one by one.

                                    Where you might lay your head
                                    And comfort can be found”

     “That must be a bed” cried Mag.

     “Maybe – but what bed?”

     “A flower bed” suggested Phee.

     “Well, wait a bit – but I don’t think so. You’ll see why.

                                    As silent as the dead”

     “So it might be a graveyard” Lem interrupted.

                                    “But not so hard a ground

Not a graveyard then” said Gwill.

     “It must be some kind of bed” Phee said again, “and I think it is a flower bed – where you could easily bury treasure!”

     “But listen to this:

                                    Not where roses grow

So I don’t think it is a flower bed – and it goes on

                                    But like it, as you read”

     “Then we’re back at a proper bed” Lem exclaimed.

     “Maybe. I agree. But now it says

                                    Kept with others white as snow”

     “What is kept with what others?” asked Mag.

     “We don’t know – that’s the mystery” the Steward said. “Go on Master Gwill.”

                                                “Laid from the heat indeed”

Gwill read . Well there’s a whole lot of things we don’t understand. Whatever it is, it is white as snow and then laid from the heat. But it can’t actually mean snow. Something else that’s white, pure white – and kept cool.”

     “I think it gets worse now” said Mag peering over Gwill’s shoulder – and she read on:

                                    “And where the cup is on

What cup? On what?” she asked in despair at not understanding anything at all.

     “It says The board. The cup – whatever it is, in On the board.”

     “Wait, it gets even harder:

                                                            Yet the billow
                                                Without a fish or swan”

What is a billow?”

     “A billow” said the Steward, “is a kind of wave on the sea.”

     “Or a lake?” asked Gwill.

     “Yes – water I suppose,” replied the Steward.

     “But. But this is a billow without A fish or swan. It isn’t water at all,” cried Mag.

            “And then” continued Gwill

                                    “Is where you’ll find the …”

     “The what?” shouted Mag.

     They all fell silent and looked at one another with blank expressions on their faces.

     Suddenly Lem jumped up.

     “I’ve got it” he shouted. “There’s another way of doing this.. As Gwill said, it is in three verses, and they all rhyme. So the last word must rhyme with two lines above – with this wretched word billow. And there’s only one word that rhyme’s with billow – and that is Pillow!”

     “Yes” That’s right. But what do we do with the rest of the poem now?” asked Phee.

     “Ah” cried Gwill. “Now I see! The pillow is where you lay your head. And a pillow is white, and and…”

     “And you keep it in a place where the linen is kept cool in…”

     “Is a cupboard – a board where a cup is!” shouted Gwill. “All we’re left to solve now are the billow and the pillow.”

     “Other things can billow” said the Steward thoughtfully. “A sail can billow – it blows out in the wind as it puffs it up.”

     “Then” said Lem carefully “it is like a bed sheet – or a pillow case which you blow open before you can get the pillow into it.”

     “Then” said Gwill “we are looking for a pillow case.”

     “A pillow case?” everyone said together. “Where does that get us?”

     They all fell silent again, looking blanker than ever.

III

     For the rest of the day they wandered around sort of looking but really just wondering what on earth they were looking for. By supper time they were al exhausted with nothing to show for it. They sat down to eat.

     “Whatever it is, it must be something to do with the Baron” Gwill said, half to himself.

     “And I don’t suppose he was thinking of his pillow” added Lem. And everyone laughed.       

     “But maybe he was” the Steward suddenly said quietly.

     “Whatever do you mean?” asked Gwill.

     “Well. It may not have been a pillow exactly” the Steward replied.

     “What then” asked Mag.

     “Excuse my saying so” the Steward continued. “There is so much old stuff in this enormous house that the only people who know all of it are the ones who have to keep it clean. Some of it even goes back to the time of the Baron and the fire – like the portrait and the book you found I had been reading” – and he looked a bit embarrassed as he said this. “Anyhow. In the Great Chamber, high over the fire place, there are several coats of arms – but one of them is different. Allow me to show you Master.”

     They all got up and went to the Great Chamber, a huge room that was very little used – it was so cold and draughty in the winter and hard to keep cool in the summer – except when important guests came for a special occasion, which was hardly ever nowadays. They followed the Steward over to the large, old-fashioned fire place. There, just as he had said, they saw coats of arms, all in a row, each belonging to one of the noble families who had married a Baron of Brend – and even married the Masters of Brend in more recent times.

     “There!” said the Steward pointing to one that hung at the end of the row. “See Master. The others are either shaped like a shield or else they are a circle. But that one is a rectangle and, as you can see, it isn’t made of wood or metal, but cloth in a frame.”

     “What is it then?” asked Gwill. “Of course I’ve seen it before but I have never paid it any attention.”

     “Well, first, it has a coat of arms on it, like all the others,” said the Steward. In fact the coat of arms of Baron D’Or Gwillander of Brend himself. I know because I saw it in that book in the library. But second, it isn’t a shield or anything like that.”

     “What is it then?” they all shouted.

     “It is the cover of the Baron’s Seat of Justice. When he was alive – and this was the same for all the Barons before him – he used to hold a court here. Anyone who had done something wrong was brought before him to be judged. And if any folk had a really serious quarrel, then they would come here and ask him to decide who was right and who was wrong. If I may say so” the Steward said in a slightly embarrassed voice, “Gwill, the last Baron seems to have done this very badly and unfairly…”

     “Which is one of the reasons why the King wanted to arrest him” said Gwill.

     “Exactly. Anyway – when he sat as a judge he wore his noble robes – and sat on a special chair,”

     “A bit like a throne?” asked Lem.

     “Exactly,” the Steward said and went on “It was put there not just to make him comfortable but to show his coat of arms before he arrived so that everyone could see exactly who he was.”

     “And that is the cushion he sat on” cried Mag.

     “Almost” said the Steward. “It is the cushion cover, and if that isn’t what the poem is about – then I don’t know what is!”

IV

     Down in the library they carefully opened the back of the frame and looked at it the cover – although none of them was quite sure what they were looking for. First they simply looked at the coat of arms embroidered on it and compared it with the one book of the family’s history. Then they gently turned it over, but the back was completely plain.

     “No” said Gwill. “It was a good idea – but I don’t I don’t think it’s right. It’s just a decorated, flat piece of cloth. That’s all.”

     “Wait!” said Lem suddenly. “It isn’t just a flat piece of cloth.”

     “What do you mean?” asked Gwill.

     “It was meant to hold something.”

     “That’s right” said Mag. “It is a pillow case.”

     “Yes” exclaimed the Steward. “That is why the poem uses the word billow. Maybe if it billows something will happen.”

     “Perhaps” said Gwill – but he didn’t sound too hopeful. “It’s a very large pillow case – how can we fill it?”

     “Ah yes” Len replied. “I know exactly how to do that” and off he went without a word of explanation, leaving the others completely mystified.

     A few moments later he reappeared. In his hand – was his pillow. The others understood immediately. First they laid it on top of the cover to see if it would fit.

     “It’s exactly the right size” said Gwill. “Where on earth did you find a pillow like that?”

     “And why have you got it with you anyway?” asked Mag.

     “We can talk about that later” said Lem. “Let’s put the pillow in the cover first, and see what happens.”

     Very, very carefully they slipped Lem’s pillow in.

     “It’s a tight fit” said Phee. “It only just goes in.”

     “Never mind” said Gwill. “It fits! Now. What can we see?”

     The answer was – nothing. Or at least, nothing new. Or, to be more precise, they could see the bright colours of the pillow’s own case through the thin material of the Baron’s cover. They studied it, front and back all over again, and Gwill finally said:

     “It’s no use. I wasn’t too hopeful. We’ll have to give up.”

     “No” said Phee. “There’s just one more chance.”

     “What?” they all asked, with just a flicker of hope in their voices.

     “If there is anything to see, then maybe the bright colours of my pillow’s own cover are getting in the way. Let’s take the pillow out and then put it back without the cover.”

     They did as Phee suggested. Lem held the pillow while Mag and Gwill held the Baron’s cover again – their fingers trembling with excitement. This was their last chance. Slowly the pillow slipped in and filled the cover again. Mag and Gwill closed it up and laid it on the table. Nothing!

     “That’s it,” said Gwill.

     “Well, let’s just turn it over and look at the back, like we did before” said Phee – but none too hopefully.

     They turned it over again and –

     “Look!” shouted Phee. “Look!”

     And sure enough, the bright white of the pillow now showed up what looked like writing, faintly visible through the cover’s thin material. “Yes!” said Gwill. “I agree. There is something there. How can we find out what it is? Perhaps if we take the pillow out it would be easier.

     “No” said Lem. “There needs to be something behind that reflects the light. We shall have to wait until the morning and look at it in the bright sunshine.”

     Everyone was terribly disappointed – but Lem was right. In a state of huge excitement – and dreadful fear that they might be completely on the wrong track – they all went to bed.

V

     The next morning, as soon as the sun was up, everyone got dressed and went down to the library again. They each found that no one else had slept either!

     “Where shall we take it?” asked Mag.

     “Into the courtyard. It will be safe from the wind and the sun shine will directly onto it,” said Gwill.

     The Steward ordered two of the servants to set up a table on the courtyard, and Mag and Gwill carried the cushion out and laid it, upside down for them to examine. Sure enough, there was the writing, very faint but visible enough.

     “Oh no! Not another poem!” exclaimed Mag.

     “I’m afraid it looks like it!” said Gwill. “Let’s try to read it.”

     Lem had been right. The bright sunshine made it possible to read the writing. Slowly Gwill spelled it out as Lem wrote it down to his dictation:

By the chapel
Find an apple.
By the mountain
Hear the fountain.
See the spire
Look not higher
But at the ground
There is found
A stepping stone
That once climbed down
There and not above
Is treasure trove.

“It’s worse than the other one!” said Mag.

     “Maybe, But it’s all we have. So we are going to have to work hard and try to understand it,” said Gwill.

     “It sounds a bit like some instructions” said Phee.

     “Or directions” said Lem. “Do you recognise any of these places – a chapel, or apples or –

     “A mountain?” exclaimed Mag. “No, of course not.” Then after a long silence, she added “I suppose we should at least try. Is there anything here than anyone recognises?”

     “There is a chapel” said the Steward.

     “Yes, and a fountain” added Gwill. “Then maybe we should do outside and look at the chapel – and see what happens.”

     Off they went, Gwill leading the way, with the poem in his hand. Out in the grounds they all stood on the lawn facing the chapel. There it was – just a large room really, but much loved because of its stained-glass window.

     “Now” said Gwill, “where is the apple?”

     “Everyone turned this way and that – but nothing could be seen.

     “Ah” said Mag, “perhaps it is in the stained glass. Maybe there is a picture of Adam and Eve and the Apple!”

     “No” said Gwill, “I thought of that. But there isn’t, I’m afraid. Let’s start again – with the mountain and the fountain. Where could they be?”

     “There’s the fountain in the entrance court” said the Steward.

     So off they went again – but with the same result. There simply wasn’t anything like a mountain or anything else that could help.

     “That only leaves the spire – but that’s a long way away in the city. And there are no spires here” and Gwill laughed. “They didn’t have houses with spires when Golden Hall was built.”

     “No. Of course not” said the Steward. “And that’s where we have gone wrong. The poem isn’t about Golden Hall. It’s about the old castle, the Baron’s castle!”

     “Of course” exclaimed Gwill. “You are right.”

     “But how does that help us? What can we do now?” said Phee rather sadly. “We are looking for clues in a building that hasn’t existed for hundreds of years.”

     “Not quite” said Gwill. “There is that old painting in the hall. According to my father it is of the old castle – I used to get quite frightened when I looked at it as a child. They said it was haunted” and he looked at the Steward who went red in th face. “It may help us – who knows?”

     In they went again and Gwill showed them the painting – very dark with age and not very good, like a child’s drawing. However they could dimly make out a spire and even a pointed roof that looked like a church – or the old chapel. But that was about all.

     “All this shows” said Gwill “is that two of the things in the poem once. We don’t know where they were – and certainly not how to find them in the grounds now.”

     “So we have no idea where to see them from” added Mag.

     “If only we had an old plan,” added Lem.

     “I didn’t think they had plans when that castle was built” said Phee.

     “No” said the Steward, “but they might have when this house was built. Maybe we could find one in the library.”

     “Back to the library then” said Gwill. “It all seems so near and yet so far. All we need now is a piece of luck and I have a feeling that we are about to have one.”

VI

     The Steward knew the library very well. He had been searching through the books for months and in that time he had seen lots of maps and plans which he had ignored. Now he needed to remember where he had found them.

     “Come on” said Gwill encouragingly “just look along the shelves and see if one of them rings a bell.”

     The Steward stood in front of the first book case and did just that, but nothing struck him. Then he moved on to the one next it. It was the same. Nothing. And so he went on until he had looked at all the shelves in the library.

     “I’m sorry, Master Gwill. I just can’t remember” he said.

     “Are you sure you have seen plans?” asked Lem.

     “Oh yes, quite sure” he replied.

     “Then can you remember where you started?”

     “Oh, that’s simple. By the door, and then moving to the right each time, and always starting with the books at the top.”

     “And how many shelves or book cases have you been able to search through?”

     “I have been trying to find the treasure for about twelve months, as you know, and in that time I have searched from the door to – here.” And he pointed to where the half-burnt volume of family history stood in its place on the shelf.

     “Then we five must look at all the books big enough to hold plans and maps between the door and this book case – that’s two each. And a lot of books! So let’s start now.”

 

 

VII

     Each book case had eleven shelves from floor to ceiling. And on each shelf there were roughly thirty books – about half of which were the right size. That meant that they each had to go through more than three hundred books!

     The first day they all started out sure that one of them would find what they were looking for straight away. Every time one of them came across a plan they shouted out – and then realised it wasn’t the right one. By the second day they were less hopeful and when a map or a plan turned up they looked at more carefully – and then simply went on looking. By the end of the third day they were simply pulling books off the shelves and turning the pages automatically.

     “Come on everybody” Gwill said late that evening. “It’s time for bed. I’m tired – and fed up.”

     “I agree” said Mag. “Come on. In any case I will finish my shelves tomorrow morning” and she picked up her candle and slammed the huge book shut that she was working through. She was fed up and she closed the book with such force that it blew the candle out and left her standing in the dark so that she stumbled and fell against the table and gave it quite a shove.

     “Ouch!” she cried.

     “What is it?” Gwill called and went over to her. “You only fell against the table.”

     “No. Something hit me” she said, holding her side.

     “You’ll be alright” Gwill said again.

     “It really hurts. I tell you something hit me.”

     The others went over to her and, by the light of their candles, they could see that Mag was right. Something was sticking out from under the edge of the table. It must have been loosened when Mag had fallen so hard against it.

     “Look!” shouted Lem. “It’s a drawer.”

     “A secret drawer!” exclaimed Gwill. He turned to the Steward. “Did you know it was there?”

     “No. Never. I had no idea.”

     “What is it for?” Phee asked.

     “Precious secrets, I should think” said Lem.

     “Then let’s have a look” said Phee in excitement.

     Carefully they slid the drawer open. There was a great deal of dust and some scraps of paper and quill pens. Gwill blew the dust away and picked all of them out. And there, under everything, was a map!

     At first they couldn’t believe their eyes – or their good luck. Then, Gwill, with great care lifted it out and laid it on the table.

     “Gosh” he said, “is this really it? I can hardly recognise anything on it.”

     “That’s because it shows the plan of the old castle” the Steward said “all that is left of it are a few stones or something like that.

     “Yes” said Gwill, “there is a sort of pond just there.”

     “It’s a moat” said the Steward. “It goes right round the castle – but all that’s left of it now is the pond at the back of the house.”

     “Then where do we begin? How do we use the map?” asked Mag.

     “If that is the moat and the map points north, then the pond behind the house is on the south side. Is that right?” asked Gwill.

     “Yes” said the Steward. “It must be.”

     “In that case, we know where the chapel was – “

     “- and the apple must mean the apple orchard. Look” cried Mag, “it says ‘Ort- something.”

     “Ortus” said Gwill. “That’s orchard in Latin. What we have to do now is wait for morning.”

     “Oh not again!” everyone cried.

     “I’m afraid so. It’s dark now. What good would it be we went out now?”

     “I’ll never sleep” said Phee. “None of us did last time!”

     “We have to try” said Gwill. “At least we need to rest so that we’re ready for the real treasure hunt tomorrow.”

VIII

     The first thing they did next morning was to go out into the grounds and, lined up roughly with the where the map showed the old chapel had been, go to look where the orchard had once stood.

     “Look” shouted Mag, “there’s an old apple tree over there. This must be where the orchard was.”

     Sure enough there was an apple tree – very old indeed – and, standing under it, they turned towards the house. Now, holding the map in his hands, Gwill was able to see where the old chapel would have been.

     “See there, where the big window is – that is exactly where the end of the chapel was. It looks as though the orchard started just about here –. It’s almost at if this tree was left as a reminder of it.”

     “But” Lem interrupted, “if you stood any further back when the orchard was still here, you wouldn’t have been able to see the chapel – because of the trees in the way.”

     “You are right. Then we must be standing exactly where the poem tells us to.”

     “Good” said Lem. “What comes next?”

     John read out –

                                                “By the mountain
                                                 Hear the fountain”

This one’s a bit harder.”

     “There must be something within sight that looks like a ‘mountain’” said Phee. “We’ve just got to stand here and look around.”

     Which is what they all did. But there was nothing like a mountain to be seen.

     “Can I have a look at the map again?” asked the Steward.

     Gwill handed it to him and watched as held it upside down and then sideways.

     “What is this area of the map?” the Steward asked.

     “Now or then?”

     “Both really” the Steward replied.

     “Well” Gwill said slowly, “over there, almost out of sight, is what we call the ‘Planted Garden’. I have no idea what it used to be.” And he pointed to the far side of the house.

     “On here it is drawn with lots of spaces and triangles. There are shapes like a pattern with paths in between them. I think it must have been the ladies and gentlemen walked between flower beds and hedges. After the fire, when the house was built, they must have reused the same area.”

     “That makes sense” said Lem. “But – where is this mountain?”

     “In the middle of the pattern there is a circle with what looks like steps on it. I think that that was your ‘mountain’.”

     “Yes” said Gwill, “There is a bit in the middle still and we called ‘The Mount’ when I was a child – but no one knew why. It is completely flat now.”

     “Then we can find it?” asked Mag.

     “Come this way” Gwill replied.

     They followed Gwill over to the old ‘Planted Garden’, and there, right in the middle,

was a small circle of grass.

     “If this is the Mountain – then there should be a fountain nearby” said Mag. “But I can’t see one.”

     “There’s one on the map” said Lem. “But it’s on the other side of the house.”

     “The poem is taking us right round the house” said Phee. “We must follow it and try to find the fountain.”

     “But the poem says

                                    Hear the fountain

said Gwill. “It doesn’t want us to go to where it actually was – just get close enough to hear it.”

     Just then a bird suddenly flew out from under the roof. They all jumped because they had been concentrating so hard on the map. Imo jumped too and started barking.

     “Stop it Imo” Lem said.

     But he was off after the bird. Of course he couldn’t catch it, so back he came and sat down quietly. Then the bird returned – and this time Imo watched it patiently. The bird flew down to the ground and raised and lowered its beak as though it were drinking, keeping an eye out all the time. Imo waited until it looked as though the bird was settled and then launched himself towards it, rushing across the grass. The bird saw this immediately, gave a squawk and flew up into the air. But Imo was going too fast to stop and instead leapt onto the spot where the bird had been. There was a loud splash, as though he had jumped into a pond – and in fact after a moment he reappeared, shaking himself with drops of water flying in all directions.

     The others ran towards him. There, running through the thick grass, was a thin slimy thread of water.

     “I’ve never seen that before” said Gwill.

     “Neither have I” said the Steward. “It’s a sort of stream, almost underground and buried in the grass.”

     “Where does it come from?” asked Lem.

     “The fountain!” cried Mag. “There must be water feeding the fountain – or that used to feed it when it was there – and it flows here, through this rough grass.”

     “Perhaps if it still existed we would be able to hear it and this water running up to it” said Gwill.

     “If that’s right” said Lem “then we are in the right place. What comes next?” and he read out

                                    “See the spire
                                     Look not higher”

     “If you remember the painting” said Gwill, “the old castle did have a spire. It must have been on the chapel.”

     “But the chapel is right round the other side” Phee interrupted.

     “Yes” said Gwill, “that is why the poem has sent us round here. It doesn’t want us to see the spire facing it. It wants us to see it from over here. It must have peeped into view across the castle walls.”

     “Then we need to know exactly where the spire was so that we can line up with it from this spot” said Lem. “I think we need to the fetch the painting.”

     The Steward went to get it, while the others talked excitedly about what they hoped to find at the end of their treasure hunt. After a couple of minutes he came back carrying the picture.

     “Hold it up facing us” asked Gwill.

     The Steward did as he was asked.

     “It’s a quite different view” said Mag.

     “We will have to work out where the spire would have appeared,” Gwill replied.

     “The picture shows the spire in the middle of the chapel roof” said Lem, “and the chapel was right over there.”

     “Where the dining chamber is now” interrupted Mag.

     “So the spire would have been just about where the fire place is” said Gwill.

     “In that case” the Steward added, “it would have risen up just where that chimney is” and he pointed.

     “But we can’t see the chimney from here” exclaimed Mag. “It’s hidden by the roof on this side.”

     “Then we have to make it seen” Gwill shouted. “Someone will have to go up on the roof and tie a long pole to the chimney – long enough for us to be able to see it from here: that will be our spire!”

     The Steward said that one of the servants was good at climbing and went off to fetch him and find a pole.

     Again they all waited excitedly. After quite a while they saw a figure climbing out of one of the top storey windows. Next he climbed onto the roof and, when he had reached a chimney that he could hold onto, he let down a rope. An arm appeared, caught the rope and tied it to the end of a pole which the man carefully pulled up. Then, untying it, he moved slowly off round the chimney and disappeared.

     They all held their breath, waiting to see if Gwill’s idea would work. They waited and waited.

     “It’s quite dangerous up there” said the Steward. “He will have to move slowly, step by step.”

     They waited some more. Then suddenly they saw the pole slowly appear, rising higher and higher over the roof.

     “There it is!” shouted Phee.

     “Yes. Good” said Gwill. “Now. Let’s go and stand where the water flowed, and look in a straight line towards our ‘spire’.”

     They all ran over to where Imo had jumped into the water. Lem held his arm straight out towards the spire.

     “Read the next bit of the poem” he asked

     Gwill took the piece of paper and read –

                                    “See the spire
                                     Look not higher
                                     But at the ground.
                                     There is found
                                     A stepping stone.”

     “Alright” said Lem. “I will stand here and look along my arm and the rest of you must walk towards the house. I will shout if you step out of line. Walk on until you find – a ‘stepping stone’ or anything like that.”

     They started to walk slowly towards the house. Every few moments Lem shouted “Left a bit!” and “Right a bit” On they went, as straight as they could, looking down at the ground all the time to see any sign of a stepping stone. Eventually they reached the wall of the house. But there was no sign of anything.”

     “Nothing here!” Gwill shouted to Lem. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

     “Yes” Lem called back. “It must be.”

     “Then we have missed it. We’ll have to come back.”

     They retraced their steps. But there was still nothing to be seen.

     “It must be here” Gwill said.

     “What do you think it will look like?” asked Phee.

     “Well. It’s a stepping stone – so its either a step that’s part of a staircase, or its part of a path, that kind of stepping stone” said Gwill.

     “There are no paths or stepping stones between here and the house” Lem said, “and in any case, isn’t there a bit more of the poem?”

     “Yes” replied Gwill:

                                    That climbs
                                    And not above”

     “Then it must be part of a staircase that goes down” the Steward suggested. “into a cellar of some kind.”

     “I agree” said Lem, “but aren’t we forgetting something? The walls of the castle were surrounded by a moat. So the stairs must have been in front of where the moat was.”

     “Let’s look at the plan again” said Phee.

     And sure enough, in their excitement they had missed something – a small square in between where they now stood and the house.

     “What is that” asked Mag.

     “Let’s look at the painting again” said Lem.

     The Steward held it up and there, just by the corner of the castle walls, they could make out a small, dark shape.

     “It’s a little building” said Lem. “Maybe a store room or something. Let’s walk over the ground again and see if there’s anything left of it.”

     “But we have done that twice!” objected Phee.

     “Yes. We have. Perhaps what we are looking for is all covered over by the grass” said the Steward. “We need sticks to prod the ground with.”

     Again they all waited in a tense state until a servant arrived with five thick sticks. This time they spread out in a row and then began to walk slowly towards the house in the direction of the pole on the roof, and prodding their sticks into the ground at every step.

     Suddenly Mag stopped.

     “Wait! She shouted” “I think there’s something here.”

     They went over to her. She was right. Mag’s stick wouldn’t go into the ground. There was something stopping it. Gwill tried with his stick, banging it hard into the grass – it made a banging sound, not the thud of something hitting earth. Gwill threw the stick down and started pulling away the grass. Quickly the others joined in.

     “Ouch”” shouted Mag. “My nails!”

     She had scraped really hard and, despite catching her nails, there, lying in the cleared patch, was an area of stone. In another minute all the grass and earth had been scraped off and a large slab was laid bare.

     “It’s just the right size for the top of a stair” Gwill exclaimed. “This must be it. Now we have to find where the steps are.”

     “They must be on the inside” said Lem. “So we need to find where the old walls were.”

     That was simple enough. They each took up their sticks and started poking about in the grass again. Quickly they felt where the building had once stood. Gwill told the Steward to fetch spades and when these arrived the three men started to clear away what had once been the inside of a store. It had a stone floor, but, in front of the step that they had first uncovered, there was what seemed to be a very large slab indeed. They scraped away the rest of the grass and earth – it was really huge and at the far edge was a rusted iron ring.

     “This must be where the steps lead down” said Gwill. “All we need to do is pull this slab up.”

     That was easier said than done. It was stuck fast and the iron ring would not budge. Eventually, using a rope, they managed to raise the ring and then, after digging round the stone they all pulled together and slowly up it rose. When it was about half-way the Steward pushed some rocks against it to stop it falling back. Then they went on pulling so that the space it had covered was properly opened.

     “Be careful!” shouted Lem as the stone rose up to its full height – but he was too late. The stone crashed down and broke into a dozen pieces that fell into the hole beneath.

     Still, it was open and now all five lent over the edge to see what was there. It was pitch dark. Even the bright sunlight only lit up a few inches below the surface.

     “Let’s get a lantern” said Mag, “we can lower it in and see what’s there.”

     When the lantern arrived they tied it to a rope and lowered it in. There was a narrow shaft, just wide enough to take a slim man or woman. It was also very deep. They lowered the lantern as far as they could, but after a while it simply didn’t give enough light for anything more to be seen.

     “Perhaps we could drop a pebble in – and try to hear how far down it goes” suggested Phee.

     They each picked up a stone and, one at a time, did as Phee had said. One of the stones made a sound like a hammer hitting something metal perhaps.

     “It’s the treasure!” shouted Gwill in excitement.

     But the next two only made the very faintest sound. The next one made a plop – it must have landed in some water, and the last one made no sound at all.

     “It’s fallen on earth” said the Steward.

     “Or maybe it just went on falling, deeper and deeper” said Phee with a shudder.

     “How can we get down there?” asked Lem. “We have to find out what’s there.”

     “Well” said John, “the poem says

                                    A stepping stone
                                    That climbs down”

So there must be steps.”

     “There were” said the Steward – and everyone looked at him in surprise – how could he have known that?

     “Look” he said. “You can see bits of wood that were part of some steps or stairs. But they’re all rotted away” and he took hold of a piece of wood that just crumbled in his hand.

     “Then what are we going to do?” asked Mag. “It seems to be very deep, perhaps terribly, dangerously deep. It may be full of water – ”

     “ – and have awful things living in it. Ugh!” cried Phee.

     “Well, despite all that” said Gwill, “the only way to find out is to go down there. The only question is – who?”

VIII

     It was agreed that it should be either Gwill or Lem – and Lem was slimmer and younger. After a bit of persuasion he agreed to do it and they started to tie a thick rope around his back and chest.

     “What happens if the bottom is really rough or covered with – something?” Lem asked, “or if the rope snaps – or you let go?”

     “Well, you need something that would break your fall or at least protect you from what ever is down there” said Gwill.

     “What can we use?” asked Phee.

     “It’s got to be strong but soft enough to break your fall” said Mag.

     “Ah yes” said Phee, “I know – ”

     “Oh no” said Lem, “ – not – ”

     “Yes. Your pillow. Look, it’s big and its strong in that great cover, and soft and – it’s just right” Phee insisted.

     “Please” said Lem, “My pillow has already saved me from drowning in the river. It has saved me from being gored by a terrifying bull. It has been in prison and – ”

     “That’s just it” said Gwill. “It is a truly wonderful pillow. More than that, it is a true friend. What could possibly be better to help you now?”

     And so, Lem was lowered into the dark hole with his pillow once again strapped to him. At first it went well, but the deeper he went and the longer the rope became, the more he started to swing about. Up above, they found it harder and harder to keep it steady and it started to rub against the edge.

     “Look out!” cried Mag, “or it will fray and break.”

     But that is exactly what did happen and, to their horror, the rope just snapped. They heard a dull thud as Lem hit – whatever kind of ground was down there.

     They waited breathlessly for what seemed hours – but after what was actually only a few moments, they heard his voice.

     “I’m alright. The pillow broke my fall. It’s lucky I had it – the ground seems uneven and covered with rocks or broken pieces of stone. What I need is a lantern.”

     Quickly they lit the lantern and again lowered it in.

     “How deep is it?” asked Gwill.

     “I’m not sure – measure it using the lantern rope.”

     “It seems to be about twenty feet” Mag shouted.

     By then Lem had the lantern in his hand.

     “You will have to come down and see this” he called up. “If it’s only that deep you can use a ladder.”

     “It’s too narrow” called Gwill, “isn’t it?”

     “No. It gets wider after the first few feet. That’s why I started swinging about. There’s quite enough room.”

     Again they waited until two of the servants and the Steward brought a ladder. With great care they fed it down.

     “I’ve got it. Just a couple of feet more” called Lem – and a moment later it came to rest. They all stood anxiously waiting.

     One after another they climbed down. About half way there was no more daylight and the faint gleam of Lem’s lantern was nothing like bright enough to help. Past the crumbling wood of the old steps. Past the slimy mud walls and the creatures that lived in them. Past the huge cobwebs and spiders that scrambled away as they approached. Then at last they arrived where Lem was waiting. Each of them lit a candle from Lem’s lantern and now, with a really good light they could see where they were.

     They were in a large natural cave that opened up at the bottom of a shaft that, long ago, had been dug down into it as a desperate last hiding place in times of great danger. The floor was strewn with rocks that had fallen during the hundreds of years since it was made, and the water they had heard when they dropped their stones was a small natural spring that had been roughly edged with stones to keep it clear for when it was needed.

     As they became used to the gloom they looked further into the cave, and their eyes were caught by a sort of glimmer from something in a far corner. It was a chest, covered all over with what looked like metal studs, and it was these that reflected the flickering candle light.

     Everyone seemed to see it at the same time. No one spoke a word but almost tip-toed over to it, holding their breath. It had to be the treasure, locked away, hidden deep, deep down here for hundreds of years.

     It was square, with a curved lid, made of wood covered in black leather and with great straps wound about it. On one side was a lock – but with three keyholes – and, of course, no keys. Just in case, Gwill tried to lift the lid, but it was out of the question.

     “What shall we do” he asked. “We aren’t likely to find keys that fit, are we?”

     “We will have to force it open” the Steward replied. “But we will need hammers and chisels and probably a file. I’ll go and fetch them,” and off he went, leaving the others in the most terrible suspense.

     When he got back he lowered the tools in a basket and then climbed down to join the rest.

     Slowly, carefully, he cut through the leather bands and then set to work on the lock with the file. It was very hard and the file made no impression on it, just a few scratches.

     “We will never be able to open it this way” he said, all red in the face and sweating.

     “What else can we do” asked Gwill.

     “We will simply have to force it open with a metal bar or something.”

     “But that would ruin the chest” Mag said.

     “Yes. But there is no other way. I’m sorry.”

     For the last time they all waited while the Steward sent for an iron bar. By now the entire household was assembled at the top of the hole, all trying as best they could to see or hear what was happening. 

     After what seemed an age the iron bar appeared and was slowly lowered down. One end was flattened, like a big chisel and it was this that the Steward managed to get in between the lock and the chest itself. Then he, Gwill and Lem took hold of it and gave a tremendous heave. For a second they just stood there, as if they had been frozen solid, and then there was a tremendous crash. The whole chest simply burst apart, wood and bits of metal flew everywhere – and so did what looked like a hail-storm.

     The five of them had to turn away quickly to protect themselves from golden bullets firing into the air. And then, as dramatically as it had started, the noise and clatter and ringing of metal stopped. They turned back and looked with astonishment. It was as though they were standing in a room literally paved with gold.

     Eventually all the coins, for that what they were, were collected up, put into baskets and pulled up to the surface. The weight of each basketful was enormous and carts had to be brought to wheel them back to the house.

     “It’s really Golden Hall now” Mag laughed.

     “But not for long.” And Gwill told her and the others about the serious conversation he had had with the Steward in the cellar. They all understood.

Chapter 11 – How the pillow got its reward

I

     News of the find spread through the villages and among the farms and isolated cottages on the Bren lands. Everyone was amazed and wondered what the result would be. What would Master Gwill do with it all? How would it affect his tenants and farms? Everywhere, whenever people met, the treasure and what would be done with it was all they talked about.

     It took a long time to sort it all out. Although most of it was gold coins, there were also pieces of ancient jewellery set with precious stones, individual gems – rubies and pearls, emeralds and diamonds – pieces of noble regalia – badges of office, chains of office, even a crown – as well as gold and silver plates, cups and candlesticks. All this had to be sorted and stored somewhere safe. It was terribly exciting as marvellous piece after piece appeared. It was as though a door into another world had opened and suddenly there before their eyes – in their own hands – were things that had been made and used hundreds of years ago.

As the work went on, the servants who were either helping or just working in the house, saw what was happening and told their friends and relatives. So the excitement grew. It was like living in a fairy tale where a magic wand had been waved and turned everything into gold!

     “Maybe” one old fellow said. “But so what? What is it to us?”

     It was true. But somehow no one wanted to break the spell, and everyone went on talking and wondering, as though in a dream.

     Eventually everything was done. In Golden Hall there were shelves filled with row upon row of gold and silver plates and cups; drawers full of jewellery; and above all, cupboards whose shelves bent and groaned under the weight of bags filled with gold coins.

     Now the word went out that there was to be a gathering of all Gwill’s servants, tenants, farmers and labourers – everyone who lived or worked on his lands. The day was named and the hour given. Everyone was to be outside the Hall in the courtyard when Master Gwill of Brend would speak to them all. And it was generally understood that there would be food and drink – more than enough for everyone.

     “That’s the least he can do” the same old man grumbled. And again, while everyone agreed, they told him to stop moaning, because it spoiled it for them.

     “The world is a had enough place” they said, “without not being allowed to pretend there is some joy and pleasure in it – even if it is just for a moment and not altogether true!”

II

     At the appointed time everyone – men, women and children, the very young and the very old and everyone in between – was there. Long trestles had been set up covered with food of all sorts, and jugs of wine and ale and water. The Steward was in charge, and he made sure that good order was kept and that everyone, even the little children, had as much as they wanted.

     Then a bell sounded. Everyone fell silent and looked up as, onto the balcony in front of the great centre window, Master Gwill of Brend stepped out with his wife Mag next to him and just behind, two other people and a dog whom no one recognised.

     “It’s Master Gwill’s wife’s brother” someone whispered.

     “Is that his wife?” someone else asked.

     “I don’t know – but it’s their dog.”

     “Oh yes” said another, “they were the ones who actually found the treasure.”

     “Really?”

     “That’s what I heard.”

     “Shhh” everyone cried.

     “You are all welcome – and more than welcome” Gwill said in a loud but friendly voice. “It is a long time since we all met together.”

     “Not our fault” said the old man, rather too loudly.

     “Be quiet!” said the Steward who was standing nearby.

     “It’s true” said Gwill who had heard him. “It is my fault. But here we are – and we have something important to celebrate – yes, all of us, as you will hear.”

     “I’ll be very surprised” said the old man again, but a bit quieter this time.

     “As you all know, a week ago something extraordinary happened. There is a long story to be told – about ghosts and all kinds of things that go bump in the night!”

     They all laughed – and people who knew some of the servants who had been so frightened of the ghost pointed at them, but not unkindly.

     “But that was cleared up – largely thanks to this marvellous dog, called Imo.”

     And Imo, hearing his name, leapt forward and started barking. He wagged his tail and licked Gwill’s hand as he patted him on the head.

     “What then happened was quite extraordinary. We found a poem full of clues behind a portrait of the last Baron and that in turn led us to – of all things – a cushion cover with his coat of arms on. Well, strange as it sounds, my brother-in-law, Lem here, has been carrying his own, very special pillow around with him as he has travelled the world looking for his five brothers and sisters. That pillow fitted exactly into the Baron’s cushion cover – and that was how we found another poem full of clues.”

     “They have been busy!” the same old man muttered. “No wonder they don’t have time to do any proper work!”

     “If you don’t keep quiet!” the woman standing next to him.

     “Yes? What?”

     “Just you wait and see” said her husband.

     “One thing led to another and, by comparing a painting of the old castle with a map of Golden Hall we were able to find an ancient store house – or rather its original floor, which was all that was left. One of the flagstones had a ring and we lifted it up and – to cut a long story short – it opened to show a shaft which led to a cave where the treasure lay hidden in a chest.”

     “ To be precise” interrupted Mag, “it was Lem who found it, by being lowered into that deep, dark hole on a rope and with only his pillow strapped to him to break his fall. He is the real hero of the story.”

     Everyone cheered and Gwill made Lem step forward so they could all see him.

     “Now. What is to be done with the treasure – which is truly a king’s ransom, as they say?”

     There was complete silence now, as though the whole crowd was holding a single breath. This was what everyone had been waiting to hear.

     “The truth is that the treasure isn’t really mine. It never truly belonged to the Baron or any of the Brends. It came from others – some of them rich from whom he stole, some poor who had been forced to pay it, rain or shine, good times or bad, in rent and other dues – or just because he made them give it to him.”

     “I never thought I’d hear anything like this” gasped the old man. Unfortunately, the complete silence meant that Gwill really heard him this time.

     “No” he said, “and I never thought I’d find myself saying it either. But my faithful Steward – standing there in the middle of you down there – has taught me to see many things in new ways. How hard you work – and how little you get by it. How you have been hungry, and tired and cold while we were rested and warm and eating and drinking as much as we wanted. I know that now – and it makes me sorry and ashamed.”

     People stared and looked at one another not knowing what to think – or what Gwill would say next.

     “And so, this is what I have decided to do with this great wealth that has suddenly appeared. First, it will be divided up so that every one of you, from the youngest child to the oldest – even you!” – and here he pointed to the old man who had been moaning and growling throughout Gwill’s speech. Everyone turned and laughed and the man himself went red in the face for a moment – and then laughed as well.

     “ – and even each of us here. Everyone the same.”

     There was a tremendous cheer and husbands and wives, parents and children hugged one another at this extraordinary news.

     “Next, I have decided that each family will, from now on, have its own plot of land – enough to provide food for them. And that will be theirs – with no rent to pay. Theirs for ever.”

     Another huge cheer and more hugging – followed by an even greater silence. Could there be any more?

     “But, because there are good years and bad ones, good harvests and bad ones, every one of us, you with your plots and me with my own lands, will put a certain amount every year into new barns that I shall build, so that in a time of hardship – a bad harvest, or even if a family has had some other bad luck and could not plant and reap enough – there will be a store of food that can be given to them. So that no one need go hungry or cold. That is what I want, and together my wife and my Steward – that is what we shall do!”

     “And about time” the old man could not help say.

     “Yes” said the Steward. “That is so. But that does not mean that the Master of Brend is not a kind and generous man. There are many, many things in this world that should be done – and few of them are, or are only done rarely. We should celebrate it when someone does the right thing and not throw it away with a sneer.”   

     “Yes! Yes!” the crowd cried. “Three cheers for Master Gwill” and they all cheered so loudly that Gwill could feel the balcony shake beneath his feet.

     Then Gwill and the others came down and talked to everyone, and ate and drank. There was a great deal of shaking of hands, and thanking – and even kissing. It truly was a wonderful day for everyone, from the smallest child to the oldest grandparent. A day that none of them would ever forget.

III

And that wasn’t the end of it. Although the news at Golden Hall that day was wonderful it didn’t sink in for quite a while. Then, little by little people began to talk. They wondered what amount they would be getting, when it would come – and then most important of all, what they would do with it and even where they could keep it safely. Just wondering about such things and discussing them with friends and neighbours was enough to change life in the villages and farms. But more than that, there was all the excitement of the land each of them was to receive – how was all that to be managed? And what would each of them plant and grow?

     The Steward had all the answers to these difficult questions. He went patiently from house to house explaining what would happen. In truth, while everyone knew that it was Gwill whom they had to thank for all this great good luck, it was the Steward who was the real hero.

     “Without him, I don’t think he would have had the idea of helping us in the first place” someone said. And it was quite true. But, at the same time, it was Gwill who had decided to give all the treasure away – and no one ever forgot that.

     Golden Hall was so comfortable, and Gwill and Mag made Lem and Phee so welcome, that it was really hard for them to remember that their journey was not finished, and that there was still another brother to be found. But eventually they made the decision and, that evening at dinner, Lem announced that in two days they must leave.

     The time flew past. It seemed that Lem and Mag still had so much left to ask and tell one another. But the morning of their departure arrived and at last Gwill and Mag, Lem and Phee – and Imo – all stood outside the grand entrance. Just as they were about to say goodbye, Gwill called to the Steward who appeared holding something carefully under his arm which he handed to Gwill. He turned to Lem and smiled a little bit shyly.

     “Lem. You did more than anyone else to help us solve the mystery of the ghost, which led to the discovery of the treasure. I know that you and Phee have both accepted your portion of the gold. But there is someone else who should be rewarded.

     “Who can that be?” Phee asked. “Is it Imo?”

     “No” replied Gwill, “although he played his part. No. It is your pillow!”

     “My pillow?” said Lem in surprise.

     “Yes indeed. And to show how much we appreciate what the pillow did – here is something for – it.”

     And Gwill unfolded the cushion cover from the Baron’s throne cushion.

     “You – or rather, your pillow – deserve this, especially as we found that it fits perfectly. When you go on your way now, the pillow, together with all the other memories of the comfort and help it has give, will be a sign of what you – and it – did for our family and everyone on our lands, and especially because” and here he held Mag’s hand and kissed it, “you are part of our family too now.”

     Half laughing and half proudly Lem and Phee undid the oilskin and slipped the pillow into its magnificent new cover embroidered with the arms of the family of Brend . Then, when they had all kissed and shaken hands, the three travellers started out on their road. Every now and then they turned back to wave at Gwill and Mag until they were out of sight. And now they could see the mountains where they had been told the last brother was to be found. Their tops were covered in snow and shone in the early morning sunlight as they made their way towards their most dangerous adventure of all.

 

Chapter 12 – How the pillow was captured – and saved – in the mountains

I

     They had seen the mountains ever since they left Ena’s farm when they had appeared like a thin blue line in the far distance. But now they knew that that was where they had to go. At first the road was flat enough and easy, but gradually it became steeper as they came closer to the low hills at the foot of the mountains. They walked for a few days, resting where ever they found a shady tree and stopping at inns each evening. As they got nearer, every time they paid with one of Lem’s gold coins they were warned to take care, especially in the mountains themselves.

     Eventually they came to a city at the foot of the mountains. It was particularly important because that is where the Governor of the difficult and dangerous mountain area lived and kept everything in order. To help him he had a small force of soldiers and, three times each year, the Magistrate visited the city.

     Lem, Phee and Imo arrived just at the same time as the Magistrate’s carriage. Of course they recognised it – and so did Imo, who ran after it as it rumbled through the streets to the Governor’s house. Lem and Phee followed as fast as they could and eventually caught up with Imo who ran around barking as the Magistrate clambered down. He was annoyed and shouted –

     “Won’t someone take that dog away!”

     “I am sorry My Lord” said Lem who stood panting.

     “Well? – ” and there he stopped. “Don’t I know you?” he asked.

     “Yes My Lord. I am Lem. You saved me from – ”

     “Your scheming sister. Of course I remember.”

     At that moment the Governor appeared.

     “What a to-do!” he exclaimed. “Clear away and let His Lordship through. Who are those people?”

     The Magistrate held his hand out and shook the Governor’s hand warmly.

     “Have no fear” he said, and briefly explained who Lem and Phee were, including how generous Lem had been in asking for his sister’s freedom instead of a reward.

     “You are welcome to our city then” said the Governor. “Why are you here? And have you anywhere to stay?”

     “I am looking for the last of my brothers and sisters, My Lord” Lem replied. “But we have nowhere to stay yet.”

     “I am sure that can be arranged” the Governor said “and for your dog as well!” and he bent down and patted Imo who wagged his tail and barked happily. Then, turning to one of his attendants he gave orders for him to find somewhere for the three of them and then turned back to the Magistrate and conducted him into the house.

     The man had a word with one of his companions and took Lem and Phee off down the street.

     “I see you are strangers here” he said.

     “Yes sir” Lem replied.

     “Not ‘sir’ to you my friend” he said, smiling. “I heard you say that you were here to find your brother. What is his name?”

     “Caleb” replied Lem.

     “That’s an unusual name. What does he do?”

     “I don’t know” said Lem. “At home he looked after the cows and the dairy.”

     “Ah!” exclaimed the man. “Perhaps he is our Caleb the Dairyman then. We see him at the market, with his milk and butter and cheese. Can you describe him?”

     “Yes” replied Lem, “although I haven’t seen him for any years.”

     “Then come with me to the Dairy – I’m sure someone there will know him.”

     The Dairy was near the market square. The man took Lem inside and went over to an older man who seemed to be in charge.

     “Good morning” he said, “what can I do for you?”

     The man explained who they were and what they wanted.

     “And what is your brother’s name?”

     “Caleb.”

     “Caleb! Well, well. Of course I know him. He used to work here for me – and then he married my daughter – the scoundrel! No. He is an excellent worker and a fine son-in-law. But he isn’t here now. He’s up near the mountain pastures where he looks after our herd of cows and brings their milk down for the butter and cheese. He was here yesterday.”

     And he went on to explain exactly where Caleb was.

     “You will certainly find my daughter there” he said. “But Caleb also sometimes serves the Governor’s troops as a guide and he may be out doing that. In any case, I wish you good luck.”

II

     Caleb’s cottage was a good three day’s walk into the mountains. The man led them as far as the foothills and then, wishing them a safe journey, left as they began to climb up the steep road. At first it was fairly easy, but after a while it became rougher and they had to walk round large boulders that had been brought down by torrents of melted snow in the spring, and then round deep holes that had been gouged out by the winter rains. Every now and then they passed a cottage or herdsman’s hut and each time they stopped to make sure they were going in the right direction.

     “Oh yes. That’s the way for Caleb” they all said, and then, like the Governor’s man, wished them a safe journey!

     Now the road became a track and more and more steep as it really began to climb towards the high pastures where the cattle grazed in the summer. As they left the plain below and the open fields, the mountains became wooded. Tall, ancient pine trees crowded around them, making it seem much darker, shutting out the warm sunshine with their dense branches. Occasionally these had fallen across the path and Lem and Phee had to help each other clamber over them or find a way round. But it was difficult because the pines were becoming more and more of a real forest, with no clear pathway to be seen. The first they almost lost their way back to the track because the trees were so thick that they quickly lost their sense of direction. It was dangerous too – a few paces into the forest and they found themselves right on the edge of a deep gorge that plunged down way out of sight. It was only Imo’s barking that made them stop and realise where they were going!

     But try as they might, it was harder and harder to keep to the path. The further they went, the more they had to avoid rocks and fallen trees or just great branches. And even when they could make their way over these it took a terribly long time. It was getting late, and the already dark forest became even darker as the sun began to set, so that they longed to reach a herdsman’s hut or even just a clearing where they could rest for the night.

     “We must come out of these trees soon” said Lem.

     “I do hope so” answered Phee.

     “Perhaps we should try walking among the trees, off this difficult path but keeping it in sight all the time to guide us.”

     “If you think we can really do that” said Phee. “It was dangerous when we tried before.”

     “I’m sure Imo will help us” Lem replied. “Let’s try. Imo!” he said, bending down and stroking him between the ears, “we must keep near the path. Look!” and he pointed to it – and Imo barked and wagged his tail.

     So, taking great care, they entered the forest and began to walk. It was much harder than they had thought. The ground was even more uneven than the path and their packs and the things they were carrying kept catching on the branches which scratched their arms and faces. After struggling for almost half-an-hour, Lem said –

     “This is terrible. I’m sorry. It was a bad idea. We must go back to the path.”

     That was now easier said than done. Of course they had been following the path which they thought they could see through the trees. But when they tried to rejoin it – it wasn’t. It couldn’t be too far, because they could hear Imo barking, but the more they tried find it the deeper into the forest they went. Every now and then Imo would stop barking and when he started again he sounded even further away.

     “Imo! Imo!” they called, wanting him to come back to them so he could lead them to the path. But there was no reply. They were used to Imo’s short silences – he couldn’t bark all the time! But this silence went on for a long while. A very long while. Something had happened!

III

     For the first time Lem and Phee felt terribly alone. They looked at one another not knowing what to do. They had no idea which way to turn or go. They were truly lost.

     “Perhaps we should try and find somewhere to stop for the night” said Phee. “It will be easier to find the path in the daylight.”

     “Yes” replied Lem, “but what about Imo? We should try to find him – he must be injured and need help.”

     “I know” said Phee, “but I don’t think we can now. If we try we will probably just get further away and lose him completely. We will have to stay here and wait for morning.”

     “You are right” said Lem, “but I am really worried about him.

     As best they could they began to clear a patch of ground. They spread out the pillow’s oilskin covering and lay down – and tried to go to sleep. But it was impossible. Somewhere deep among the trees an owl hooted and another one replied. It was a slightly eerie sound echoing against the mountain side. Other sounds too – animals hunting for food among the trees made the odd noise, snapping twigs on the ground, or rustling the low-growing plants – and the cry of their prey when they were caught. And, of course, worrying about Imo – and how to find their way again.

     After what seemed hours they did eventually fall asleep. And then, suddenly, there was a loud noise. They woke up with a start – and there, standing in a ring were men – eight or nine of them – pointing guns and knives and shouting roughly at them.

     “Get up! Stand up – and don’t try to do anything stupid like running away or we’ill shoot you! Get up!”

     Rubbing their eyes they got to their feet as quickly as they could. It was still dark and they could only make out the black shapes of the men around them.

     “Look!” one of the men called. “Look at that pillow with its coat of arms. These are rich people. They are worth a good ransom from their family.”

     “And look at that belt and purse!” said a second. “You don’t have one of those to keep beans in!”

     “Must be their dog we heard” said another. “I told you we should have caught it – ”

     “ – or shot it” another interrupted. “Who knows where it has gone.”

     Lem and Phee glanced briefly at one another and smiled ever so slightly.

     “We’ll take these” the first man said who seemed to be the chief of the gang, and waved to two of the others to take the purse and the pillow.

     “What is this? he asked, pointing at the pillow.

     “It’s my – ”

     “Not the pillow!” the man snapped, “the coat of arms.”

     “Not ours” Lem said.

     “Whose then?”

     “My sister’s husband’s family” Lem said.

     “And who are they?”

     Lem told him who they were – and then asked –

     “Why do you want to know?”

     “They’ll probably want you back alive, I should have thought” the man answered with a nasty, mocking laugh. “All done?” he asked the others. “Off then!”

     They climbed through the forest, up the mountain side until the sun rose and then on for at least half a day. At last they arrived exhausted at the mouth of a cave in front of which was a small clearing and an old man cooking in a pot hanging over a fire.

     “Sit over there” the chief ordered. “Tie them to the tree”.

     They were roughly pushed to the ground and tied by a rope around their hands to a dead tree trunk just by the entrance to the cave.

     “What are you going to do with us?” Lem asked boldly. “You have taken all our gold – and my pillow. Goodness knows what you will do with that! What use are we to you now?”

     “Be quiet! If you’re lucky we’ll let you live. I don’t know yet. It depends.” The chief said, darkly. “Give them water” he ordered, and one of the men filled a wooden bowl and held it to their lips. Then, leaving the old man to guard them, the gang went off.

     Lem and Phee looked at one another.

     “What is going to happen to us?” Phee asked.

     “I do not know” replied Lem. “All we can do” – and as he said this he nodded towards the old man, “is do as we are told and wait” and he winked.

     But in all truth he had no idea how they might help themselves. Here they were, prisoners of desperate bandits, lost deep in the forest and with no idea of where they were or what to do even if they managed to escape. The only thing that either of them could hope for was that somehow Imo had got away and might – do what? Who could say?

IV

     Imo understood that Lem and Phee had been attacked by bad people, and that was enough for him. As soon as he saw the gang he smelt trouble and when he saw their guns – especially the ones pointing at him, he knew that he was right. He had scampered off among the thick plants among the trees and just lay there until they stopped looking for him and left. Then, as quickly as he could, he had pawed his way to where Lem and Phee had lain down to sleep – and he had seen them being captured and led away. Finally, he had followed them to the gang’s cave and, unable to get near enough to help – perhaps by biting through their ropes – he went back into the forest and set out for help.

     Of course his sense of smell meant that he could retrace their steps – in and out of the trees and then back onto the track and then the road. But where now?

     Golden Hall would be best, but it was a long way and perhaps there wasn’t time – who knew what the gang was planning to do with Lem and Phee? The city was nearer and a better plan. So, off he went. He trotted past the farmhouses and cottages along the route they had all taken earlier, then out into the open countryside at the foot of the mountains, past the fields and finally closer and closer to the city. At one point an angry looking farmer spotted him and came out with a gun.

     “Be off!” he cried. “Don’t dare get onto my land or anywhere near my animals!” and he shot the gun – either into the air, or maybe he just missed!

     Later, two or three wild dogs caught up with him, barking and snapping. But Imo simply kept on going and in the end they got fed up and just sat down in the road and scratched themselves.

     Once he entered the city Imo knew he would really have to be careful. All kind of city folk didn’t like stray dogs. Butchers of course, but anyone who wanted peace, quiet and nice clean streets. It was also much harder to find your way. There were so many scents to follow and which ones where Lem and Phee’s? He ran this way and that, always taking care not to get in people’s way – he didn’t want any trouble – and trying to remember the place where they had first arrived. He stopped at a number of large buildings with grand steps going up to the front door – but none of them was right.

     Then, just by chance, he thought he smelt something familiar. It was the Governor’s man who had looked after them. There he was, standing in the road waiting for his master’s coach. Imo trotted up to him, sat and looked up, panting to attract his attention. The man looked down.

     “Hello” he said, “I recognise you.”

     Imo immediately jumped up and licked the man’s hand.

     “What are you doing then, boy?” he asked.

     Imo started running around the man’s legs, then running off a little and coming back again.

     “What is it”” he asked.

     Imo barked – not too loudly – and went on running back and forth.

     The man didn’t know what to make of it. He bent down and patted Imo and watched in amusement at what looked like silly behaviour.

     “Watch out!” he cried as he saw the carriage coming down the street. Imo immediately went on to the lowest step and sat down. The carriage arrived and the Governor stepped out.

     “What’s that wretched dog doing there?” he asked in a cross voice.

     “My Lord, it’s the dog that came with the two young people who were looking for their brother. He appeared just a moment ago. To be honest he seems a little strange.”

     “But why?”

     “My Lord, if you would just look at what he is doing.”

     And the Governor did and saw how Imo ran around the two men’s legs and back and forth.

     “That dog wants us to follow him somewhere. Where are the young people?”

     “I haven’t seen them, My Lord.”

     “Then they may be in trouble. Where did they go?”

     “I took them to the foot of the mountains where they left me to go up to their brother’s cottage.”

     Did you warn them about the gangs who live there?”

     The man looked down.

     “No My Lord. I didn’t want to frighten them.”

     “They would have been better off frightened and on their guard than unaware of the danger and careless” the Governor replied quickly in a severe tone. “Still, what is done is done. What do you suggest we do now?”

     The Governor knew exactly what to do. First Imo was taken to the kitchens where he was given a large, meaty bone. While he was enjoying that, the guard was summoned and told that two people were missing, suspected of being either seriously lost, perhaps injured, or, more likely, kidnapped by a gang of brigands. Four of the soldiers were sent on immediately to go into the mountains by the nearest route – the one that Lem and Phee had been following, or at least trying to follow. They were to fetch a guide who knew all the secret paths and hiding places in the forest. The rest of the men were to follow Imo until he tried to leave the track and, at that point, they should wait for the others to join them with the guide.

     Although it was after midday when they were ready to go, the Governor told them to leave immediately and get as far as they could.

     “There is no time to lose. Once the brigands have got what they want they may not treat their prisoners too well” he said in a quiet, worried voice.

V

     By the time the two groups of soldiers met up it was almost dark. The first group had stopped just at the point where Lem and Phee had wandered off the track, and Imo kept running in among the trees and barking. But it would have been stupid and dangerous for the soldiers to start exploring the forest in the dark. They would have to wait until dawn – and Imo would have to be quiet or his barking would alerts the brigands. The Captain ordered the men to make camp and, while they were doing this, went over to Imo.

     “Sit” he said and produced a bone. “Good dog” he said patting him and tickling his ears. “We have to be quiet and wait” and as he spoke he looked right into Imo’s eyes. Imo stood up, wagged his tail and then walked over to where the soldiers were now laying down. He stretched himself out, looked round at the Captain, closed his eyes and went fast to sleep.

     Everyone was woken next morning by the dawn chorus – the birds of the forest seemed to have agreed not to let the soldiers oversleep! In only a few minutes the men had packed their ground sheets, eaten a crust of bread, had a drink of water and were ready to go. The Captain stood at the front of the troop with Imo.

     “Now” he said, “but slowly and quietly.”

     Imo wagged his tail and went carefully into the trees. Soon he had led them to where Lem and Phee had lain down to sleep – and where that had been captured. The Captain called the guide over.

     “What do you make of this?” he asked.

     “Look at all those footprints and broken twigs. There were far more than two people here. Look, you can see where our friends lay down, and here is where a group of men stood waiting – to capture them I should think.”

     “Well done Imo” the Captain said. “Now, go ahead.”

     Imo and the guide now led the way. As long as the ground was soft or covered with twigs and leaves the guide could see where the gang had gone when. But then the ground was rocky it was up to Imo to sniff out the way they had gone. They were making good speed when, as they were about to burst through a thicket of undergrowth, Imo leapt in front of the guide stopping him in his tracks – just in time to stop him taking a step forward over the edge of a rocky cliff and plunging to his death. The guide, for all his knowledge of the mountains, soon learnt that Imo had a special sense for danger. Between the two of them the soldiers moved as fast and as safely as possible.

     Gradually the trees began to thin out as they climbed higher up the mountain side so that it would be much harder to hide if they needed to. The guide held up his hand.

     “I know where we are” he said, “and I have a good idea where we are heading. Up there the mountains become dangerous to climb, which means that few people ever try to go there. But there are also caves – I have sometimes found our stray animals in them when they have wandered off and got lost. I am sure that that is where the brigands are to be found.”

     “Good” said the Captain. “But from now on we have to take extra care. We must go forward separately, always able to see one another but so that each of us can hide himself as soon as there is any sign of the brigands. They are bound to have a look out posted. So – no noise, no sound at all if possible, guns at the ready and every man to keep his eyes peeled – and look out on all sides, not just ahead.”

     Again Imo and the guide led the way, moving slowly and, if they heard anything suspicious they stopped and crept, the guide on all fours and Imo on his stomach.

     Imo seemed to understand the danger, but after a while it was clear that he was becoming excited –the scent was growing stronger. But no barking and no sudden movements, just faster breathing and every now and then, he stood up, looked at the guide and wagged his tail.

VI

     The brigands were, as the Captain thought, on the lookout, but they were also very pleased with their prize. The gold in Lem’s purse was really worth a great deal, and the cushion promised even ore.

     “We can find out who this belongs to” the chief said, “and tell them to send us the ransom money if they ever want it – and these two – back!”

     “That will take a while to manage” one of the men said. “It means hanging on to them for a long that time.”

     “Not really” answered the chief in an unpleasant voice. “They would never know if we still had them – but they would still end the money.”

     “What can we do with them?” asked another man – although it sounded as though he already knew the answer.

     “They wouldn’t be the first lonely travellers to miss their way and fall down one of these cliffs” the chief said and laughed.

     “Accidents will happen” said the first man – and they all turned and looked at Lem and Phee.

     “In any case” said the chief, “it’s about time we moved on. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone had raised the alarm.”

     “Probably whoever owns that wretched cushion” the other man said.

     “Right” the chief replied, “so we need to be off to one of our other hide-outs.”

     “When do we go, chief?” the second man asked.

     “Not now. Wait until it’s dark and then. It will make it almost impossible for anyone to follow us. We’ll wait until after midnight.”

     “But what about them? Taking them along in the pitch dark will be really hard – and slow us down!”

     There was a terrible silence. Each of them knew what the others were thinking. Lem and Phee were really worried and glanced at one another. Lem forced himself to smile and try and comfort Phee – but they both knew their situation was hopeless. Even if Imo had managed to escape, and even if he had got back to the city or even Golden Hall, and even if anyone understood what he had to try and tell them – how would anyone get there in time to save them? The brigands were planning to leave in only a few hours and then – It didn’t bear thinking about, but they feared the worst, and with good reason.

     Slowly the sun began to go down. The shadows of the rocks and the mountain itself grew longer and longer, and gradually began to fade into the darkness of night. The chief Nebded to the rest of the gang who went into the cave and, after a short while came out with their few goods tied up in packs over their shoulders. They stamped out the fire and kicked up the grass and brush wood to make it look as though they had never been there. Deep in the woods below an owl suddenly hooted. Everyone looked up – but the chief just nodded again. Two of the men undid the rope tying Lem and Phee to the tree trunk and roughly pulled them to their feet.

     “Which way? One of the men asked.

     “The cliff path!” the chief replied.

     “The cliff path!” another exclaimed.

     “Oh yes – and be careful. Remember. Accidents do happen!”

     The owl hooted from somewhere deep nearby in the forest a second time.

VII

     The soldiers were encouraged by Imo’s excitement and the guide felt sure that the brigands would indeed be found in the caves. They too waited for the early night time.

     “We will continue climbing” the Captain said, “but slowly. The guide is certain that we are very close and I hope we will be able to surprise them in the dark.”

     “On they went, taking care to make as little noise as possible.

     “The caves are up there” the guide whispered to the Captain.

     “Then there must a look-out nearby”

     “Yes. Tell your men to stand still now. Wait for me to signal you – like this” and he cupped his hands together and made the sound of an owl hooting. But the soldiers were not the only ones who heard it!

The guide crept forward and there, on a rock sticking out above him, he saw a figure. The look-out! Carefully he picked up a stone and threw it hard to the left of where the man stood. It landed on the hard rocky ground with a sharp sound. The lookout jumped and turned in the direction of the noise, half closing his eyes to try to see what or who had made it. As he did so, the guide, who had climbed right up underneath the rock, reached out and seized the look-out by the ankle and pulled him. The man only had time to let out a short gasp as he fell, catching his head against the edge and them tumbling down to where the guide stood. He hooted again – and was heard by more than just the Captain and his men, who now crept up to where the guide stood next to the fallen lookout.

     “Gag him and tie him up. We will collect him when we have finished the rest of our business” the Captain ordered.

     One by one the soldiers scrambled up onto the rock. From here they could make out a number of shapes moving in the darkness.

     “There they are” the guide whispered in a sharp, excited voice.

     “Ah!” the Captain exclaimed, “yes and they’re on the move. If we aren’t quick we may well lose them. Which way are they going?”

     “It’s hard to tell. But towards the higher slopes I’m sure.”

     “What can we do? Can we surprise them?”

     The guide thought for a moment.

     “Yes. There is a path that leads above and round behind the caves and meets the path they are taking. If we can get there first we will have the advantage and we shall be up above them as well.”

     “You six follow the guide and do as he says. You four come with me. We will be behind them to block their escape.”

VIII

     The gang were indeed making for the caves higher up and were taking the cliff path to get there as their chief had ordered. It was so narrow that in some places they had to walk sideways and hold on to the cliff itself. No one said a word about what might happen to Lem and Phee – but they all knew what they would like to happen! Every few steps of the difficult way the two men holding their ropes gave sharp tug to make them move faster and – perhaps – who knew what? In any case they soon realised that they were in the greatest danger. At especially narrow parts they tried to reach out and grasp each other’s hand to steady themselves, and when one of them seemed to falter from fear or dizziness, the other tried to slow down so that they could help the other, whatever their guards might do.

     Desperately, Lem kept looking out, hoping against hope that Imo might have been able to fetch help. He kept looking up at the mountainside above him and back down – just in case they were being followed. Once he thought he saw something move between the trees higher up – and then again. As he walked he saw a large stone on the narrow path and as he passed he kicked it so that it fell into the gorge below making a loud crash.

     “What was that” hissed the chief – and no one could say. But Lem was sure he saw something stop and then move on again above him. The next moment he did it again and this time the guard saw him and told the chief.

     “What are you playing at? Once more – and you’ll follow it down the mountainside!”

     But almost as he spoke a rock hurtled down past them, this time from somewhere over their heads. The chief held his hand up for the gang to stop. They all waited. Nothing happened.

     “Probably some animal” one of the men said. But Lem felt sure that someone had answered him.

     “It’s too dangerous. We’re moving too slowly,” the chief said.

     “Of course we are. Without these two we could go much faster,” one of the brigands said, jerking his thumb in the direction of Lem and Phee.

     “Well. What do you want to do?” the chief asked.

     “Can’t we just leave them here” the other answered.

     “How – there’s nothing to tie them to” the chief replied.

     “Then it’s us or them” the man replied – and the others made a low grumbling noise in agreement.

     Lem and Phee had been put at the rear of the line as they made their way along the narrow path. Without a word being said their guards now pulled them so there were men on either side. Lem and Phee lent back with all their strength against the mountain side and pushed with their legs to hold themselves steady as a man took hold of each arm and tried to force them to the edge of the cliff. They understood what was going to happen and for a moment this made it difficult for their guards to move them. But the brigands were stronger and had no pity. It was lucky that the path was too narrow for the others to grab them. But it now became a desperate struggle and they could feel themselves being slowly dragged towards the edge. Phee’s right foot slipped forward and was half over. Lem was fighting with all his might, but he knew that he could not hold the men back for much longer.

     “Phee! Phee!” he cried.

     But she did not have the strength to answer as one of the men began kicking her legs from under her while the other got his arm behind her back and pushed harder and harder.

     “Phee!” Lem cried again – and this time she looked towards him, with a look that seemed about to give up.

     And then a dog barked, loud and harsh. It rushed along the path and sank its teeth into one of the men’s leg, who screamed, let go of Phee and, trying to kick the dog away, lost his balance and fell over the edge. The next moment shots rang out. Lem and Phee were forgotten as the gang seized their weapons and started running, looking for shelter. Left alone, Lem and Phee grasped each other and stood half terrified and half amazed – while Imo jumped up against them, wagging his tail!

IX

     They were saved! The troops easily caught the gang as, one by one, they came off the narrow mountain path, while the three soldiers who were following behind with the Captain carefully helped Lem and Phee to safety.

     The whole gang, except for the man who had fallen over the edge, were chained together and with the soldiers’ guns at the ready, began the long march back to the city, where they would face the Governor and the Magistrate. Their future looked very grim.

     On the ground where they had been trapped lay a pile of goods – guns, a few clothes and bags, one of which was unusually large and very light!

     Lem and Phee were helped gently to a flat rock where the Captain sat them down and gave them a flask of water.

     “You have had a terrible experience” he said in a kindly voice. “You must rest for a little before returning. Tell me, do you think there is anything of yours among the brigand’s loot. Most of this will be stolen goods which I have to take back to the city. But if any of it is yours – well, we can deal with it here and now.”

     “That is kind of you” said Lem. “We only had three things with us really. My purse with the gold coins I won at the singing competition and the others that were part of the treasure. A bag with a few clothes – and my pillow.”

     “Pillow?” said the Captain in surprise – and Lem explained what the pillow was and the adventures it had had on the journey to find his brothers and sisters. The Captain told them to sit there while he went through the pile of goods.

     After a few minutes he came back.

     “I know this has been a dreadful ordeal” he said, “but at least you didn’t travel too far with those terrible men – and they seem to have had all your belongings with them. Are these your bag and purse? And is this the – pillow?” and he couldn’t quite help laughing.

     “Oh yes!” said Lem. “Thank you so much. Of course the money is important to us – but you can have no idea what the pillow means to me.”

     “I think I do” said the Captain. “But tell me – what will you do now?”

     “We will rest a little longer” said Phee, “and then I suppose we will find the track and follow it to try to find the village where Lem’s brother lives. It is somewhere up here in the mountains.”

     “Easier said than done, I’m afraid” said the Captain. “I have been living here – or at least, in the city nearby – for many years, and I wouldn’t be able to find my way alone.”

     “Then how will you manage?” asked Lem.

     “The guide will be back soon. Once he has shown my men they way to the track.”

     “Then may we go with you?” asked Phee.

     “Of course” the Captain replied. “Now, just rest.”

X

     The sun climbed higher and higher in the sky. As the day grew hotter and hotter the birds gradually stopped singing and rested in the trees around the clearing. Phee and Lem fell into a deep sleep – while Imo stood guard over them – although his eyes too shut every now and again. Suddenly there was the sound of someone approaching. Imo barked and the Captain jumped up.

     “Who is there?” he called.

     “Don’t worry. It’s your guide” a voice called back as he came through the trees.

     All of this woke Lem and Phee who looked around, startled for a moment or two. But that was nothing compared with what happened next.

     “I must still be asleep and dreaming” Lem cried.

     “Not you. Me!” exclaimed the guide.

     “What’s going on here” Phee and the Captain said at the same time.

     “Lem! Is it you?”

     “Is it you, Caleb?”

     “You two seem to know one another” said the Captain in a surprised voice.

     “Know one another!” said Lem laughing. “This is my brother. The last of my five brothers and sisters whom I set out to find” and he could say no more, because Caleb had thrown his arms around him and the two of them just stood there, laughing and crying at the same time.

     “What on earth are you doing here?” asked Caleb.

     “I could ask you the same question” Lem answered – and they both began to speak at the same time.

     “You first!” said Caleb.

     “Well, that’s easily told” Lem answered. And in a few words listed all the adventures he had had since leaving their grandmother’s house, how he had met Nab and Perd and Mag and Eena – and Phee and of course Imo. Then he told him how they had been captured by the brigands while they were looking for him – and how they had narrowly escaped being murdered by them.

     “But we were saved” Lem said, “rescued by this brave Captain and his men.”

     “Nothing would have happened without Caleb’s knowledge and skill – or, to be honest, without Imo. He alerted us and led us to the gang’s secret cave.” said the Captain.

     “This is true” said Lem. “But it is all part of my story. Caleb – what on earth are you doing here? Now it’s your turn.”

XI

Caleb’s story – with a sad ending and a happy one

     “You must remember when I was married and left home. I met my bride at the market where we were selling our cheese and butter, and she – with her father – was selling the same. Of course we had other things too – our eggs and the wooden things we all carved – but we had dairy in common. And although we were, in a certain sense rivals, there were more than enough customers for both families. Se we started to talk to one another – first about cows and milk, and then other things. In fact, everything! And that was how we met. Her father was not a well man. The journey all the way to our town and the market was a strain for him, and even running his dairy. So, when he saw that his daughter had struck up a real friendship, he hoped that something might come of it that would help him. Eventually we agreed to marry, and when I asked her father’s permission, he was delighted and said that we should come and live with him and his wife until we were able to afford our own home – and that he would immediately make me his partner in the dairy.

     We were married and I went to live in the city at the foot of these mountains. We all lived happily together and I took on more and more of the responsibility for the dairy. The only thing was that I could not quite get used to living in a city. None of us – you Lem, or any of us – had ever lived anywhere apart from our farm, deep in the countryside. But that was how it had to be. Until one day when my father-in-law met a man who owned a really big herd of cows that he wanted to sell. He had no children of his own and he was too old to be able to do all the work. I agreed with my father-in-law that if we bought the new herd we would make an even greater success. Until then we had made cheese and butter using the milk that we bought from other people. If we had our own cows we could do much better.

     But now another question arose. Who was going to look after the cows? Who could be trusted to do it really well? So, it was agreed that I would be in charge, and that was no problem in the autumn, winter or spring. Then, the cows grazed just outside the city. Every day I would go to make sure that the herdsman was looking after them properly. But in summer it was harder. The cattle are taken up in the mountains where the higher pastures stay fresh and green through the hot months. And that is too far to reach from the city in just a day. So it was decided that we would live in a small cottage up there in the mountains and look after the cattle.

     That sounds simple, but it isn’t quite. You need to know your way around – the paths and tracks, the best way to the fields – who grazes their herd where, so that arguments don’t break out. Then there are all the places where a cow can get lost – off in the woods or in the caves – and, most important, where the most dangerous spots are – the edge of the rocks or narrow mountain-side tracks. I hired an old man who had lived up here and all his life, and over the last ten years he has taught me all he knew. And as a result I have even been able to act as a guide.

     But that was not all. From time to time there were what you might call ‘official’ duties, when the Governor sent troops into mountains and a guide was needed. About seven years ago that is what happened when people began to report gangs of bandits in the area. After a while it became more and more dangerous for anyone living or travelling in the mountains here – and the name of the dreaded Robbers of the North started to be whispered wherever you went.

     Soldiers were gathered and I was one of the guides employed to help them. After a long while we were successful and quite a number of these terrible people were either shot or caught. I say people because there old and young as well as women among them. They were like a tribe, a large family living – and robbing – together. That was their way of life.

     When the soldiers’ work was done there was a trial in the city, and we all went to watch. There were a lot of prisoners as you can imagine and to tell the truth after a few days it started to become a little boring. I decided that I would watch for one more day and then go back to the dairy. In any case, my father-in-law needed me there. The day was drawing to a close when something unusual happened. One of the women, very old and frightened, was put up before the Magistrate and, instead of just listening to what she was accused of – which was the same as all the others – she suddenly began to speak.

     “No, My Lord” she said. “That is not right. I have never been one of these dreadful people.”

     Everyone looked up.

     “Then what were you doing with them?” the Magistrate asked.

     “I was their prisoner and they have forced me to live with them and do their work for the last fifteen years. But in all that time I have never stolen anything or harmed anyone.”

     There was a tremendous noise in the court as everyone started to talk.

     “Silence!” cried the Magistrate. “Can you prove any of this?”

     “Only by telling my story” she replied, “and that will show that I am an honest woman, from a good home, who has been the victim of fate and these terrible people.”

     “Do so” said the Magistrate. “But be brief.”

     Then she told how she had lived on a farm with her widowed mother, her husband and their children. How they had decided to find a teacher for them because the farm was too distant from the city for the children to go to school. How she and her husband had set out, as usual on market days – and how they had been caught in a great snow storm that had trapped them. How they had dug their way out and had seen men riding in the distance and signalled to them for help – but they turned out to be the fearful Robbers of the North who had taken them prisoner and made them work for them. Finally, in a quiet, sad voice she told how one day the Robbers had divided in two, and one group had ridden off with her husband – whom she had never seen again. Since then, she said, she had been a slave in their travels until the soldiers had finally caught them and, if she were believed, set her free.”

     There was a deep silence when she finished. No one, not even the Magistrate, knew what to say. All this might be true – or it could just be made up so that she would be treated differently to the others.

     “This is extraordinary” said the Magistrate. “But have you any proof of any of this? Is there anyone who could say if it – any of it – is true?”

     I had listened to the woman’s tale with greater and greater excitement. I could hardly believe my ears. It all sounded too good to be true – and perhaps it was. But who could say? I stood up.

     “Yes, young man?” said the Magistrate.

     “My Lord” I answered, “I was one of the guides and I think it is possible that I may be able to help. Would you give me permission to ask the woman a few questions?”

     “If you think it will help, by all means.”

     I turned to the prisoner and, in a steady voice so as not to upset or frighten her, I asked –

     “You say you lived on a farm. What did you keep there?”

     “Cows and other farm animals.”

     “Nothing else?”

     “Oh yes” she said, trying hard to remember, “geese. Eider geese.”

     “And the children. How many were there?”

     “Six in all” she replied.

     “And were they boys, or girls?”

     “Three of each.”

     “And what were their names?” I asked, “if you can remember.”

     “Oh, how could I forget them? Through all the years – years like a nightmare – remembering my husband and my six children and hoping that I might see them again, was all that kept me alive.”

     “So – their names were?” I replied.

     “Nab, Caleb and Lem. Perd, Mag and Eena” she said.

     “Now, if I may come a little nearer, My Lord” I asked the Magistrate.

     “Again, if it will help. But this is all most mysterious – as strange as the woman’s own story.”

     I walked up to where she was standing.

     “Look at me” I said. “Look closely.”

     She rubbed her eyes, blinked and looked straight at me. Then she rubbed her eyes again and in a low voice that trembled as she spoke, said:

     “Can you be Caleb? Are you Caleb, my dear son Caleb? Can it be you?” and as she finished speaking my name she fell down in a faint.

     I went over to her, but one of the guards pushed me back while the other tended to her.

     “My Lord” I said as clearly as I could, “this woman is my own, long lost, dear sweet mother. If I have done anything in this city to earn a good name and the right to be believed – than let me be believed now when I say that some of what she has said I know to be true – and for the rest, I know that she has never told a lie in her life!”

     When my mother had recovered, the Magistrate ordered her to be given some water and something to eat and then had her take to his private room where he questioned us both. Then he left us alone for a short while and, when he returned he was accompanied by the Governor. He told the Magistrate who I was, how I had come to the city and all that I had done as a husband, a son-in-law, in the dairy and as a guide.

     They then whispered to one another, and finally the Magistrate spoke.

     “It is true, as they say, that wonders never cease! Who would have thought that any of this might happen – and be brought before me and revealed in this way? Young man, if half of what the Governor tells me about you is true, then you are certainly to be believed and trusted. My good woman, you have had many wretched, unhappy days and years in your life. Let me say that I hope the happiness of this one will help wash away some of that misery and sorrow and help you begin a new, joyful chapter in your life.”

     And with that he stood up and shook our hands and led us to the door of the court room. Then both he and the Governor announced what had happened and to loud cheers and shouts of pleasure we both walked out into the warm sunshine of the late afternoon.”

XII

     Caleb stooped speaking. But Lem wanted to know more, or rather, there was something else that he wanted to know.

     “But what happened to our mother then? Is she – ”

     “No” said Caleb. “But she has had such a hard life for all that long time, let alone such a sad and frightening one. Of course I brought her home, where my wife welcomed her with open arms. Nothing was too much for us to make her comfortable. But we could see that the life had been torn out of her. In a way, the hope that she might find us again was what had kept her alive. Now that she had, you might say, come home at last, she was left with nothing but to let go of life, gently and happy to have found rest.”

     “Then she – ”

     “Perhaps as we speak” said Caleb. “When I was summoned to guide the troops she feared that she might not see me again if I went away for too long.”

     “Then we should hurry back to the city” said Lem. “It’s a long way.”

     “No” replied Caleb. “Remember that in the summer we all live up here with the cows in the little village just where the road ends and the rough tracks begin. We will be there in a couple of hours.”

     It may have been only two hours, but to Lem it seemed like two years and Caleb had to stop him running down the steep slopes and crumbling paths for fear that he would really hurt himself. But eventually they could make out roofs in the distance and then cottages and finally they were there, standing in front of Caleb’s mountain home.

     Caleb’s wife had been watching out for him and the door opened before he touched the handle. He went in – but Lem and Phee hung back for a moment. Lem didn’t know what he would find there. There are times when you suddenly find yourself watching your own movements and feeling as though you were somebody watching your own self. At that moment Lem felt so many things that he was confused about what was real and what he was imagining. Both Phee and Imo understood this. Lem reached down without thinking and Imo looked up at him and gently licked his hand. Phee put her arm through Lem’s and half pulled, half pushed him towards the door where Caleb had stopped and now turned around, with his finger to his lips and, at the same time beckoned him to come in.

     All three of them went into the cottage. It was dark – not gloomy, but cool and sheltered from the bright sunshine. Caleb’s wife was standing in the middle of the room and whispered something to him. He looked serious. No one spoke. Caleb again beckoned Lem towards a half opened door.

     There, laying on a bed face upwards and with her arms stretched down either side, was a woman, thin as a skeleton but breathing softly and regularly, with her eyes open, staring up at the ceiling.

     The two brothers approached her.

     “Mamma” said Caleb. “Can you hear me, Mamma?”

     The woman’s breathing stopped for a second and, with a great effort she turned her head in the direction of the voice.

     “Mamma” Caleb said again, “see who is here. It is Lem. He has come all this way to find me – and you. Isn’t that wonderful?”

     The woman smiled just a little, but was unable to say anything. Lem bent over and kissed her, and her breathing quickened a little. Then, again with a great effort, she turned her head back – but still with the smile on her lips.

     Lem’s eyes were wet with tears. He looked at his brother as if to ask something – and without a word Caleb nodded. Then suddenly Lem left the room. A moment later he returned carrying his precious pillow.

     “Here Mamma” he said. “This is the pillow I made for your own dear mother and which she gave me to take with me when I went out into the world. It is filled with their eider feathers that each of your sons and daughters sent back to her when their children were born. She lay on it and was comforted by it in her own last sleep.”

     And so saying, he gently lifted up her old, grey head and laid it on the pillow. He arranged it to give her the greatest comfort and smoothed down the bedclothes. Then he kissed her again and stood back, holding his brother Caleb’s hand as they both looked down at their mother, to see if that smile was there on her lips again. It was. But the bedclothes no longer rose and fell and the room seemed somehow, darker than it had been before.

Chapter 13 – How the pillow found its way home

I

     It took a little while for the brothers to recover from their mother’s funeral. But slowly they returned to everyday life and talked about what had happened since they had last seen one another – and, more important, what they planned for the future.

     Lem of course had done what he had set out to do. He had found all his brothers and sisters and, although the youngest of them, was now at the centre of the family. In their different ways they each looked to him to bring them together – and this was what he now had to do.

     By now the summer was almost over and it was time for Caleb to drive the cows back down to the town and its nearby fields. Lem and Phee went with him and his wife and then stayed on for a few days more. He was afraid that if he waited too long his plans would be spoiled by the coming winter weather.

     He knew that he wanted to get to his old home more than anything, but that was a worry. The farm was beyond the mountains where he and Phee had been kidnapped so that not only did he not know the way, but it might be dangerous as well. He and Phee discussed this anxiously before mentioning it to Caleb.

     “I agree” he said, “it is a problem – but there is a chance a solution might be found.”   

     Caleb took his brother to the Governor’s house . There he asked if the Captain whom he had guided was anywhere to be found. The soldier he spoke to said that he was and went to find him. After a while the Captain appeared. He was delighted to see Lem looking so well.

     “How can I help you?” he asked.

     Caleb explained the problem.

     “I agree” he said – and added, just as Caleb had. “It is both difficult and dangerous – at least for two people alone. However, you are in luck. I have been asked to send a small detachment of soldiers in the direction you are going. In fact you may know the town they have to reach” and he told Lem the name.

     Lem and Caleb laughed.

     “What is so funny?” the Captain asked.

     “That is the town we went as children to every week for the market,” Lem explained.

     “And it where each of us – except for Lem – found our husbands and wives. But why are they sending soldiers there? There hasn’t been any serious trouble has there?” Caleb asked in a more serious tone.

     “A little” the Captain replied. “People in the outlying farms have been complaining that wandering strangers have been taking over their barns, and even broken into their farmhouses. We need to find out what is going on.”

     “Are they bandits then?” asked Caleb.

     “Apparently not” the Captain replied, “they are just people who seem to appear from nowhere and who have nowhere else to go.”

     “That is very sad” said Lem. “Maybe they are simply poor folk who don’t know what to do.”

     “I think you may be right. But it’s no good breaking into other people’s homes. Something needs to be done about them.”

     “And perhaps for them” said Lem.

     “If we can” the Captain replied. “In any case, you can come with us if you like.”

     Lem and Phee were delighted and it was arranged that they would meet the soldiers in front of the Governor’s house in two days’ time. One thing was a bit of a worry. The Captain said that he knew how well behaved and intelligent Imo was, but if he was going to be part of the military group he would have to be put on a lead. Lem showed the Captain the lovely collar and lead that the twins had given Imo when they left their farm and, surprisingly, Imo seemed quite proud of them when Lem put them on him.

     The two days passed quickly and Caleb and his wife came to the Governor’s house with their children to wave goodbye. The soldiers marched smartly off and Lem, Phee and Imo walked as fast as they could behind. As usual Lem and Phee kept stopping to turn and wave – and then had to run to catch up. But after a few minutes they had reached the city gates and them with a last wave – they were truly on their way.

II

     The journey was a long one. It would take about two weeks and they had to go as fast as they could. Winter was coming which meant shorter days and snow. They all needed to get to their destination as quickly as possible. It seemed that every day – and especially every night – got a little bit colder. And of course Lem’s farm, and the town the soldiers were making for were that bit further north.

     As they travelled they met with small groups of people who seemed to have no real way to go. They were camped by the side of the roads and, when the soldiers passed by, they all got up and held out their hands asking for help. The soldiers were ordered to ignore them, but Lem and Phee were upset, especially by the old people and children among them.

     “Who are they all?” asked Phee.

     “There have been bad harvests in this area” the Captain explained, “and some of these people are looking for work and others simply don’t know what else to do.”

     “Can nothing be done to help them?” asked Phee.

     “Only hope that they will end up somewhere where there is work to be had” the Captain replied. “That is all.”

     But Lem had a different idea, and whenever he could stop for a few minutes he would ask who the father was in the group and quietly gave him a gold coin – sometimes more if there were many of them.

     “I wouldn’t do that if I were you” said the Captain, who soon realised what Lem was doing. “The money won’t last and they’ll try to get the rest of it from you.”

     “But look at the children” Lem replied. “How can I just pass them by?”

     The further they went the more of these poor people they saw. And in the villages they went through they found that people were more and more frightened by them. Often the villagers came out and asked the soldiers to do something that would show the wandering groups that there was still law and order and that they should just walk peacefully on their way. What they really wanted was for the soldiers to stay – but of course they couldn’t. Instead they would go to the market place and read out the King’s orders, that anyone ‘breaking the law – by stealing or attacking anybody – would be severely dealt with. But that there would be help in time for anyone without food or shelter.’ And then on they went.

     One result of all this was that many of the inns they passed were all locked up so that there was nowhere to stay – and they had to walk much further to find somewhere to rest for the night. At one of these they asked the innkeeper why this was happening.

     “We’re afraid to open our doors, sir” he told the Captain. “You don’t know who you’re letting in or what they might do.”

     The man agreed to open up for the soldiers, Lem and Phee – they were obviously not a worry. But he made it clear that they must eat early and go to bed so that he could lock the doors and windows to make the inn as safe as possible, and asked the Captain, who of course was in charge, to help.

     “Of course” the Captain replied.

     “And one other thing. I can see that your companions’ dog is well behaved. But might I ask you to take charge of him during the night to make sure that everything is in order?”

     “Yes” the Captain said. “I shall make sure that he is secured so that he can’t run about or disturb anyone.”

     “I thank you sir” the innkeeper said, and set about showing the soldiers, Lem and Phee, to their rooms.

III

     The Captain was as good as his word and at the correct time everyone was in bed, candles were set in the windows and in Lem and Phee’s room Imo’s lead was tied around the bed-post. Lem had to explain that this was just to keep him extra safe – and Imo seemed happy with that and wagged his tail before laying down and resting his head on his paws with his eyes shut.

     The night however was not peaceful. During the day storm clouds had been gathering overhead and there was a fierce wind. Every now and then, late into the night, Lem and Phee could hear people passing in front of the inn. Once they heard someone say –

     “That’s where the soldiers are. Keep away from there.”

     “I don’t know” another voice replied. “Isn’t that where the man with all that gold is sleeping?”

     And later –

     “Too many lights, too many lights up there. I don’t like the look of it.”

     It seemed that the innkeeper had been right and that you couldn’t be too careful.

     However, eventually, everyone fell asleep – after all they had been walking all day since early morning. The wind continued to blow and every now and then the clouds scudded across the moon and then broke up again so that the night was silvery bright one moment and pitch black the next. In a moment of light a few shadowy figures could be seen, even at this late hour, straggling past the inn as a few drops of rain began to fall.

     “Look up there” one of the growled. “They’re alright. Snug in the warm!”

     “That’s the soldiers” another called back, “of course they’re alright!”

     “They know how to take care of themselves, don’t they?” said a third. “This will keep them on their toes.”

     There was a brief silence – and then the sound of a stone breaking through a window – followed by the sound of laughter and running feet. Then silence again.

     Suddenly there was a loud shout.

     “Fire! Fire!”

     Everyone woke up with a start. The stone had knocked over one of the candles on the window sill, setting light to the shutters. The whole inn was made of wood and still very dry after the summer. In no time the fire became a real blaze in the room and then began to spread. The innkeeper called for help with the water buckets and everyone quickly threw on their clothes and either rushed down to help or just to get out of the inn.

     Lem and Phee’s room quickly filled with smoke. They couldn’t see at all and were coughing and choking, their eyes streaming. Phee tried to get to the door, but she fell over a chair and crashed to the floor calling to Lem for help. He grabbed hold of her and pulled her to her feet and then half carry, half pushed her onto the landing and down the stairs.

     Below, the soldiers, the innkeeper, his wife and sons were in a line by the well filling buckets and running back into the inn to try and put out the fire. Phee recovered quickly and they both found themselves in the line taking their turn, running with a bucket and then emptying it and standing back at the end of the queue waiting to fill it again.

     Suddenly Lem cried out –

     “Where is Imo? Has anyone seen Imo?”

     No one had. Lem was sure he would be running around and then he realised he must still be in the room.

     “And the pillow!” cried Phee.

     “I must save Imo!” Lem shouted. “Here, take my bucket!”

     “You can’t go back in there” she said in fright. “Tell one of the soldiers. They’ll know what to do – or one of the innkeeper’s sons.”

     “No. I can’t wait” Lem called as he ran to the door.

     Inside it was like a dense winter fog, but so hot that it burned your throat and eyes.

     “What are you doing?” the Captain shouted.

     “Imo” Lem replied, making for the stairs.

     “Imo?”

     “My dog. He must still be up there.”

     “Oh my goodness” the Captain cried, “I remember. He was tied to the bed post. But you can’t go up there.”

     “I must” Lem called back.

     “Then I’ll have to help you” the Captain said, and grasping a bucket in each hand followed Lem. The smoke and heat got fiercer as they started up the stairs. After a few steps the Captain put the buckets down and took hold of Lem’s shoulder. Then he dipped a piece of cloth in the water and told Lem to hold it up to his face and eyes.

     “Take a bucket and do that” he shouted.

     Lem did as he was told and went on up towards his room. The door was half open – inside he could see nothing but smoke. Dipping the cloth again he threw the door wide open and the sudden rush of air made the flames leap up. But in their light he could just make out a dark form on top of the bed. It was Imo, still tied to the bed post, but who had managed to get up off the floor and was now lying out at full length – and covering the pillow. In the middle of all the terror and confusion Imo had dragged the pillow into the middle of the bed and was doing all he could to protect it what he knew was Lem’s most precious possession!

     “Oh Imo!” Lem cried, and as quickly as he could he broke the lead and carried the dog and the pillow in his arms and stumbled back out of the room. Outside, the Captain was waiting for him. He threw water over Lem, Imo and the pillow and led them back through the smoke, down the stairs and into the open.

     Eventually the fire was brought under control and the morning found everybody lying exhausted out in the open. The innkeeper sat wringing his hands.

     “What will happen to us now?” he kept saying. “It’s all gone! All gone!”

     “No” said the Captain. “There is a lot of damage to three rooms at the top of the stairs, but the rest are just filled with smoke. In any case I believe that all this happened because we were staying with you, and the King will want to see that you do not suffer as a result of putting up his soldiers for the night.”

     The relief on the innkeeper’s face had to be seen to be believed.

     “Oh, that is wonderful” he said at last. “Otherwise I do not know what would have become of us!”

     The Captain asked Lem to lend his some gold to pay the innkeeper, promising that he would repay it as soon as they reached the town. Them leaving the innkeeper and his family to start clearing and repairing, they went on their way. The soldiers marched ahead – but a little slower than before, partly because of their exhausting night, but also so that Imo could keep up after his own frightening ordeal and the wonderful bravery and love for Lem that he had shown.

IV

     News of what had happened, and the story of the faithful dog, spread quickly, and everywhere the soldiers stopped they were welcomed as heroes who would save them from danger. And at every inn Imo was always the first to be served a great slice of meat and a bowl of cool water. People immediately gathered round and Lem was asked to explain what had happened and, usually, to show them the pillow that Imo had saved.  

     When they arrived in the town people came out into the streets to welcome the soldiers. They too had had problems with the wandering bands. Mostly they had just begged for food or shelter for the night. But some had lodged in barns and stubbornly refused to leave. Everyone was very pleased the Captain and his soldiers had come to protect them.

     It was market day, and many of those who heard Lem’s story recognised him and the older people remembered his grandmother.

     “She would be proud of you” they said, and wished him luck .

     They all insisted that he tell them where he had been and what he had been doing. Among them was the mother of the little boy he had saved from the mountain-side. She kissed Lem and told them all how brave he had been – and then Lem had to take out the pillow and show them the cover that she had made for it.

     “But what is that?” she asked as took off the cover with the coat of arms.

     And, as briefly as he could, Lem told that story as well.

     In the end they were all taken to a tavern where the town’s folk brought them a hearty meal and a drink. There was a lot of singing and laughing – and more story telling. But finally things came to an end and Lem thanked everyone for the kindness and wonderful welcome and said that he must have a rest now because tomorrow he was going to his old farm.

     At that there was a slight silence – but no one said anything.

     “What is the matter?” Lem asked.

     After a moment or two someone said quietly –

     “You need to be a bit careful where you go, out in the countryside!”

     “The wandering people?”

     “Yes. And your farm has been empty for a long time, with no one there to guard it.”

     “We shall see” said Lem cheerfully.

     That night Lem and Phee found it hard to get to sleep, although they were terribly tired. The sense that something might be wrong, that after all their adventures they still faced some sort of danger, was upsetting and worrying. In the end Phee said –

     “Why don’t we ask the Captain to help us?”

     “That’s a good idea” Lem replied.

     And they both fell into a deep sleep.

V

     The Captain agreed that it was a sensible idea. But first he had to make all the arrangements for his men. They needed to understand their duties, what they had to do at what times of the day. In addition all of this needed to be discussed with the mayor – or at least his advice or ideas had to be taken into account. This would take most of the morning. Then he and one of the men would ride out with them to the farm.

     “We don’t have horses or a wagon” said Lem.

     “Don’t worry about that. After all it’s too far for us to walk, as you have told me. And in any case it seems that it might be exactly the kind of situation we are here to deal with. It’s official business!”

     The Captain was good as word, and early that afternoon he met Lem, Phee and Imo in the market square, in a cart with space for them behind the Captain and the soldier who drove it.

     “Maybe it would be better if I sat next to the driver – after all, I do know the way!” Lem laughed – but a little bit nervously, wondering if he really did – and what they might find when they arrived.

     Of course he remembered it – all the farms and cottages along the road, even some of the great trees that stood out like sign posts. By late afternoon, as the sun was beginning to set, Lem felt more and more at home and, at the same time, became more thoughtful. Not only was he worried by what he had heard – and had himself seen – about the wandering people in the countryside, but things came crowding into his mind – his grandmother, his mother and father – even the eider geese whose season was just beginning.

     “You’re very quiet” the soldier said.

     “I’m sorry” replied Lem, “my mind is so full of memories I hardly know what to think or say.”

     The soldier understood, but Lem made an effort to talk and started to point things out to him as well as Phee and the Captain as they passed along and telling little stories about them from his childhood.

     “This must have been a wonderful place to grow up” said Phee, “it is so beautiful and peaceful.”

     Suddenly Lem called out –

     “There, that is the last hill before the farm. We will be able to see it from the top.”

     They had come quite a long way by now and the horse was tired and it took a great effort to pull the cart up the hill. As they neared the top, slower and slower, Lem said –

     “Some of us need to get out here – we always used to – to help the horse. Why don’t we do that and walk to the top?”

     Lem, Phee and the Captain – with Imo bouncing along in front of them – got down and walked. Against the setting sun the top of the hill was a clear, thin line against the sky with nothing beyond it except the deep blue of the early evening. Then, as they approached the top Lem stooped and grasped Phee’s hand. She understood – they were about to see Lem’s old home – but with his grandmother no longer there. It was like an empty box waiting to be filled with all those memories and – Phee hoped – new happiness. But for Lem, just now, it was only a moment of sadness. She tightened her hand in his.

     “Come on” she said, “we’re walking into our future, not just the past” and gently pulled him onwards.

     When they reached the very top Lem forgot all his sad thoughts and cried out –

     “Look” there it is!” and the three of them stood still for a moment taking in the view. Imo was far too excited to be still even for a moment.

     “But what is that?” Lem asked. “There’s smoke coming from the chimney. Oh dear” What can have happened? It must be some of those people who have broken in and are living there. What shall we do?”

     “Don’t worry” said the Captain. “That is exactly why we are here. But we must approach carefully. Tie the horse and cart to this tree, out of sight. We will go on foot. Lem, tell Imo to keep close and very quiet.”

     When the road approached the farm there were a more trees, which they used to make sure they were hidden from anyone who might be watching out from the farmhouse. One behind the other they crept closer, until Lem was able to point out which windows belonged to which of the rooms. They could see inside, but apart from the smoke curling up from the chimney, there was no sign of life at all.

     When they were just outside the actual farmyard, the Captain held up his hand and then lowered it several time, signalling them all to crouch down behind the low wall. Then he beckoned the soldier and Lem to join him. They both almost had to crawl so as to keep below the top of the wall.

     “Either there’s no one there” said Lem, “or they are keeping watch very carefully and staying well out of sight.”

     “We’ll soon find out which” said the Captain with a low laugh. “Each of you take a gun” he whispered. “I shall go forward and hide behind that pile of straw and then move closer and crawl my way under that window to the left of the door. You” he said to the soldier, “do the same, but go to the other side. Lem, whoever is in there will be less frightened of you than us in our uniforms. Keep your gun well hidden behind your back and stand by the gate here and call out. If we see anyone either come out to attack you or aim a gun at you, we will have you covered and you can duck behind the gate post. But remember, we must keep our eyes open – and make no sound at all.”

     The Captain led the way. First over to the hay and then, quick as a flash to the window by the door. The soldier did the same and crouched below the window on the other side. Now it was Lem’s turn. Slowly he stood up and moved out into the open so that he was in full sight from the farmhouse – but close enough to the gate post to be able to hide behind it if anyone took a shot at him. Phee watched nervously from behind her tree. All of them had seen what these people were like when they had set the inn alight. Now they were comfortably settled into a nice farm, what would they do to keep it – especially if they knew or thought Lem was the rightful owner?

     Lem watched the Captain for a signal. After a moment – which seemed like an hour – he lifted his arm again and when he was sure that both Lem and the soldier could see him, he waved his hand twice, quickly, and Lem stepped forward. Everyone held their breath.

     “Hello!” he called in a friendly voice. “Is there anyone there? Anyone at home?” he added as if to say ‘I realise that it is your home’.

     But there was no reply.

     The Captain waved his hand again.

     “Hello!” Lem called as before. “If you are in there please reply. I am a traveller who has come a long way and needs a little rest and something at least to drink.”

     No reply again. But Lem thought he saw someone move inside the house.

     “There is nothing to be afraid of” Lem called again.

     “Then why are you hiding by the gate out there?” a voice called back.

     “You can’t be too careful” Lem replied.

     “In any case, who are you?”

     “Just a traveller, as I said.”

     “Really? The voice asked. “This is an odd place to be wandering about, so far out in the countryside!”

     “Who can tell where travels take you? It was on my road – that’s all.”

     “What do you want then?” the voice called.

     “As I said. Just somewhere to rest and perhaps something to drink – and eat even.”

     “Well, come out into the open then!” 

            Lem looked at the Captain who nodded. Lem walked forward into the farmyard. As he did so the person who had been calling to him opened the door and stood on the step. He seemed to be holding something in his hand. Immediately the Captain and the soldier leapt out of their hiding places and pointed their guns at the man.

     “Wait!” he cried.

     But the Captain was already taking aim at him. The man stepped back in fright – and then, with no warning, Imo who had done exactly what he had been told so far, suddenly rushed across the farmyard almost knocking the Captain over and leapt at the man as he stood shaking in the doorway. As if this weren’t bad enough Imo started barking and licking the man, jumping up and down so that neither of the soldiers could see or do anything.

     “Imo! Imo! The man shouted.

     At that, Lem ran forward, followed by Phee. Nothing could have prepared them for the surprise – it was Lem’s father standing there, and so happy to be with his beloved Imo that he had completely forgotten everything and everyone else.

     “Father! Father!” Lem cried. “How? – What? – are you doing here?”

     But before he could reply the door opened fully and there, laughing and smiling, were his brothers and sisters, their husbands and wives and all their children.

Chapter 14 – The return of the pillow and the geese 

I

     A hearty meal was ready on the table, and after Lem and Phee had recovered from the shock and the complete silence that followed it, there was an explosion of questions. The first was how everyone had come there – and all at just the right time. Each of them had their own story to tell.

     Eena had already hinted to Phee that she wanted to visit the farm. But the more she thought about it the larger her plans had grown until she decided to send messages to all the brothers and sisters – and, of course, their father – and try to get them all to gather in time for Lem’s homecoming. The first message went to Nab and his wife. They agreed immediately that it would be a marvellous thing to do – Lem had really changed their lives. So Eena had sent a farm cart to fetch them and they in turn had travelled into the forest to find their father.

     He had been in despair, waiting and waiting for Imo to return. When he heard Nab approaching he had almost not bothered to watch his trap. But Nab had been warned about it in any case and stopped far short of the money tree and called out who he was. His father had rushed out in such a surprise that he almost fell into the hole himself!

     “Stop!” Nab had shouted. “Wait there.”

     And he had run to his father and hugged him before explaining how and why he had come. Then he had gently led the old man to the cart which they had left in a nearby clearing. That night they had stopped at Nab’s house and after a good night’s sleep the three of them had left for Eena’s farm. But just before leaving Nab and his wife had gone to see the jolly woman – who had become a real friend – to tell her they were leaving the house empty for a little while. She, of course, said she would keep an eye on it – and wrote a letter to Lem and Phee for Nab to take with him.

     There was great happiness when they arrived at Eena’s farm, and she, her husband and twins joined them as they left to see what they could do with Perd! They were hugely surprised to find that she was changed – really quite pleased to see them all. She had slowly taken heart and been to visit her husband where she had seen her little boy several times and both of them were delighted to be asked to come with. There were rather a lot now, so that her husband rode on his own horse with his son, while Perd sat next to Eena and Nab in the cart. Before she left she told the Constable that she was leaving for a little while. Like the jolly woman he agreed to watch her cottage – and also sent a message for Lem and Phee.

     On they all went to Golden Hall. Eena had already sent to tell Mag what she was arranging, so she and Gwill were all ready to travel when the others arrived. They made a specially comfortable place in their carriage for their father as they, with their little son, went to collect Caleb and his family. What a sight they made as the entered the city: a cart full of men, women and children, a man on a horse with another child and a splendid carriage! There they asked for Caleb’s house. He too was ready, with his wife and three children in their own cart. He had three very special messages to take with him.

     So all eighteen of them trundled off, all the while being careful not to bump into Lem and Phee on the way!

     As it happened they had arrived in the town only a day before them, and had had to tell everyone they met not to say anything to Lem or Phee – or, indeed any of the soldiers.

The Captain and the soldier, whom everyone had insisted must stay as guests of honour, laughed more than anyone else at the trick they had played on them all.

     Telling all of this, with interruptions and laughing and questions and extra stories took a long time. It was late – especially for the children – but just as everyone was about to get up and go to bed, their father stood up. Everyone was silent.

     “Dear, dear children” he said in a quavering voice, “there is enough happiness here to break my heart for joy. Only one person is missing – your dear mother. With her, this would have been complete. But perhaps there is one thing that still that needs to be done. Phee! Lem! Come here. Five brothers and sisters, each with a husband a wife. And all these children! Tomorrow you must join them – as husband and wife and make our family complete – with Phee as my new daughter!”

     Everyone clapped their hands and so, looking forward to another special day they at last went to bed, half-asleep – and half-excited all over again!

II

     The next morning everyone woke late. It had been such a night. But soon after breakfast they all set about doing what was needed for the wedding, and by noon everything was prepared.

     As for each of his brothers and sisters before him, the ceremony was simple. Lem’s father brought him and Phee together and joined their hands. Then, holding his hands over their heads, wished on them everything that his mother, their grandmother, had wished for each of them all those years ago. They all knew those words and as they remembered they felt tears come to their eyes as they wished and hoped that they would come true for Lem and Phee. Then Lem asked the Captain to step forward, and from a pocket in his uniform he took a beautiful golden ring. It was the ring that the Magistrate had given Lem for his goodness and kindness in refusing to take any reward except his sister Perd’s freedom. The Captain gave it to Lem who took hold of Phee’s hand and, slipping it on her finger, kissed her.

     Suddenly one of the children shouted.

     “Look! It’s snowing!”

     But it wasn’t. It was the eider geese, just returned for the winter and flying round and round. The sound of their wings beating the air and their cries was almost deafening. Everyone looked up in astonishment and then, the geese suddenly flocked to the ground and covered it in the special white of their brilliant shining feathers.

     “What a wonderful sign – that all of us are truly home,” their father said. “Now. The feast!”

     A feast it certainly was. The sisters had prepared dish after dish and the brothers had made sure to bring fine wines for them all to drink. After everyone had been served, their father called for silence. And one after another the lovely messages were read out: that Nab had brought from jolly woman, and that Perd had been given by the Constable; Caleb had to read one from the Magistrate and another from the Governor. Then, just as everyone thought it was finished, Caleb handed a last one to his father.

     “The Magistrate also gave this one to me” he said. “I think that you, father, should read it.”

     Carefully he broke the seal. Who on earth could have written a letter like this?

     “’My Dear Lem’” he read, “’I think you may have forgotten me, but I have not forgotten the wonderful song that you sang at our Festival. It changed so much for all of us. It blew away the cobwebs of the old stories and the old ideas. It showed us that at the heart of poems and songs and the telling of tales is the understanding of what is true and beautiful – and very simple. None of us will ever forget that – and all of us who heard you know that truth and beauty             will be yours and your new bride’s for as long as you both live.’ It is signed – ‘The Princess.’”

     “Who would have believed such a thing?” Lem’s father said in an astonished voice when he had finished. “I think we had better hear this song of yours!”

     And, after a lot of encouragement, Lem stood up and sang it. 

III

     If anything, the meal lasted longer than the night before. Everyone was so tired – and so happy. Before they went to bed they all promised one another that they would gather here, on the day of Lem and Phee’s wedding, every year – at least. That never again would anything keep them – children and grandchildren, fathers and mothers, and their grandfather –apart.

     With hugging and kissing, one after another, everyone went to their rooms led by their father accompanied by Imo who stopped every few steps to look up at his beloved master and lick his old hands, so happy to know that he would sleep once again at his feet – and not on the rough ground but a clean, soft bed!

     Last of all, went Lem and Phee – hardly knowing whether this was real or just a wonderful dream. It didn’t matter. They both knew that something marvellous had happened to them and everyone else, as they kissed one another and closed their eyes, laying their heads together – on the pillow.