ROOKTIME

The children froze. Something was moving over the pine needles. The sounds came nearer, nearer. Cautiously, Mark tilted his head until he could see through a gap in the roots above. At first he could see nothing, then he began to make out a shadow - no - a black figure silhouetted against an enormous grey pine trunk. As he watched, the creature turned to reveal the outline of a beak - but he was sure that its body was that of a man, not a bird. Another one came into sight and as they moved to and fro Mark realised they were wearing what looked like cloaks. Turning their backs, the two figures strode away deeper into the forest.

“It's really weird, they're…” he had just started to whisper to his sister when they heard the sound again, coming nearer now: pad…pad…pad. They both cowered low in the hollow, listening intently. Suddenly a shower of pine needles fell into their hiding place and there was a powerful reek of damp feathers. When Mark dared to look up, he could see huge, savage talons biting into the web of dead tree-roots above their heads. The feet disappeared briefly then earth, pine needles and cones began to fall into the hole again.

“I must see what's happening,” muttered Mark, scrambling to his knees. Instantly he was yanked out of the hollow by scaly, clawed hands. Roots cracked, Laura screamed, then she too was hauled out to stand blinking in the dim light filtering between the trees.

As he looked up at their captors, Mark saw two beaked heads with crests of black feathers; each had a rook crouching on one shoulder - and the tall figures were wearing cloaks: glimmering dark feathery capes that stirred in the breeze. Glancing at their feet, Mark shuddered at the sight of the great hooked talons.

With horrifying speed one creature whipped a length of black leather cord from beneath its cloak and lashed it round Mark's waist whilst the other did the same to Laura. They knotted the cords together then started to drag both children away through the trees. Mark made a grab for his sister's hand as they raced side by side, sobbing, plunging along behind the two strange creatures.

When at last they reached the pebble beach again, the `bird-men' began to grunt, raising their fists in the direction of the black ship, before pulling their prisoners towards a boat that was drawn up on the shingle. They pushed them over the gunwale and tied their cords tightly to a pair of iron rings so that Mark and Laura were forced to lie flat on the slimy planks in the bottom of the boat, unable to move. The creatures began to row, cutting through the water so swiftly that spray flew high into the air and the children grew wetter and wetter.

There was a bump as the boat lurched against the side of the ship. Mark looked up and up: the black ship towered above them. Someone on deck was lowering a rope ladder…….

Rough hands grabbed at the children, clawing their arms and legs, as more and more of the bird-like creatures pressed forward, tossing their crested heads. Mark and Laura were pushed along the slippery deck to a hatchway and then flung down some steps into complete darkness. They landed with a crash, sliding into the corner of the hold as the ship got under way. The hatch had banged shut behind them as they fell and now they could hear nothing except for the slap of water against the side. For several minutes they lay there in silence, shivering, trying to get their breath back. Eventually Mark struggled to sit up. Now he realised it wasn't completely dark after all: faint glimmers of light seeped through tiny cracks in the planking……

Hours went by as the brother and sister crouched in the gloom of the hold, waiting, waiting…..

At last a tremor passed through the ship's timbers as it ground against the harbour wall. The lid of the hatch was raised and a head appeared, its beak glinting in the moonlight; fierce grunting noises could be heard close by. A pair of great hands in leather gauntlets reached down to grasp the two children, hauling them up through the hatchway to land on the deck. On every side birdmen pushed and jostled, eager to see the captives: Mark and Laura trembled as they stared up at the circle of beaked, crested heads looming above them.

The sudden sound of a trumpet made all the creatures swing round towards the prow of the ship: there stood a majestic figure, its crest and cloak gleaming silver in the moonlight. In its clawed hands it gripped a silver pole and a shining horn.

At the sight of their lord the birdmen dropped to their knees and banged their beaks repeatedly on the decking. The pair holding the children's cords yanked them down onto their knees too: Mark and Laura gasped in shock as their foreheads hit the boards. A moment later the creatures all leapt to their feet again and followed their silver-feathered leader across the gangplank onto the quay, dragging their prisoners along with them. Soon the ship vanished into the darkness and the harbour was left far behind as the host of birdmen entered the further reaches of the pine forest encircling the great lake.

A second blast on the trumpet eventually brought everyone to a halt. Wearily, Mark raised his head: in the moonlight he glimpsed of a circle of huge, towering pine trees before a cloud drifted across the moon and all was hidden.

As they stood together in the darkness, Mark and Laura could hear the sound of many feet tramping away over the carpet of pine needles. Once more they knew they were alone with their two captors…..