Beast of Steaming Forest , livre ebook

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122 pages

English

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Description

Something is on the loose in Steaming Forest. It screeches, it scares and it kills. Where the mud boils, where the steam rises, where the giant Manglewarp Tree grows, no one is brave enough to enter the forest. In the nearby village of Pebbleknock, Sergeant Trod Elsewhere is also faced with an outbreak of thievery, mysterious magical gatherings and bothersome anarchists. Only one person realises these events might be linked, and unless he can work the connection out, things are about to take a turn for the worse.

Sujets

Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)

Fantasy

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Publié par	Andrews UK
Date de parution	21 octobre 2016
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781785385841
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0250€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

THE BEAST OF STEAMING FOREST
A Goneunderland Adventure
S. D. Birkbeck

First published in 2016 by
AG Books
www.agbooks.co.uk
Digital edition converted and distributed by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
© Copyright 2016 S. D. Birkbeck
The right of S. D. Birkbeck to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any person who does so may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

List of Characters
Boddle Wallop... luxian priest
Lady Euphansia Fish... palace high official
Prictus Smutch... her secretary
Frooty Spittlecup... pawnbroker
Zeno Bendergust... leader of the Bendergusts
Qorm Teasel... former thief and shiner
Madam Fiddy Hook... fortuneteller in Steaming Forest
Rictus Hook... also living in Steaming Forest
Asper Buttonpush... Pebbleknock tax collector
Cadaver Buttonpush... his brother
Ekky Shrubs... their cook and maid
Sir Septicus Gripeknot... palace noble & sausage magnate
Lady Amantha Gripeknot... his wife
Emmalynde Gripeknot... his eldest daughter
Lettizia Gripeknot... his youngest daughter
Balthus Gripeknot... his son
Hemstich... Gripeknot head servant
Erville Taftpool... travelling salesman
Sir Archly Puck...
Lady Hilda Puck...
Sir Careworn Tupply-Flush...
Lady Libianca Tupply-Flush... Nobles in Pebbleknock
Smorgan Tupply Flush...
Lady Silica Plume...
Sir Bogsfield Challybeat...
Pebbleknock residents
Sergeant Trod Elsewhere... Illuminatie
Patrolman Vesper Gumz... his deputy
Spellwringer Snagrock... resident magic finder
Millypop Scribbens... little girl
Pinny Scribbens... her mother
Moorlick Saltblock... farmer
Moiles Ironbridge... farmer
Athol Haft... hardware shop owner
Shindig Loblolly... grain store owner
Dossal Flyblown... fisherman
Thrapple Windpipe... Pebbleknock mayor
Copelia Windpipe... his wife
Winlot Shovel... mayoral secretary
Wessle Pandle... baker
Honesty Groundnut... café owner
Garkle Ponderpark... farmer
Onk Liddle... farmhand
Flynt Tackle... head sausage maker at Gripeknot Manor
Fingus Hornblend... his assistant

Five Years Earlier
The old woman walked as quickly as she could towards a small cart. A bent back and the two suitcases she was carrying made walking difficult. A small man holding the reins of two gaspars shouted down at her,” Hurry up, there’s not much time.”
“There’s always time,” said the woman as she heaved one then the other suitcase onto the back of the cart. Piled high were several more suitcases, boxes and unpacked household items such as rugs, metal goblets, luxite crystals, plates and several ornate candlesticks. In the middle sat a large, wooden box.
“The box, is it...?”
“Yes, yes,” said the man impatiently. “I tied it down myself.”
“Food and water?”
“Of course, enough for a day. Now hurry up!”
Slowly, as if to torment her driver, the woman climbed up next to him.
“I’ll miss this place,” she said looking at a small house carved out of a great, looming cliff. A few shrubs and thorny bushes dotted the ground. “Lots of interesting plants. Lots of nettle, berries and I thought the pollypip flowers were particularly impressive...” Her voice trailed off as she looked wistfully at the house.
“There’ll be plenty of interesting plants at the next place,” said the man. “We’ve been assured of that. Hey-up!”
With a swish of the reins, the little gaspars shook their manes, lifted their hooves and started pulling the cart along a narrow, dirt road. The woman, still bent over, held onto the seat as the wheels bumped in and out of potholes. Just as the cart disappeared around a corner and over a bridge, from the other direction appeared a bustling crowd led by a lean figure dressed a black cloak with the furry hide of a dead animal wrapped about his shoulders. Beside him walked a smaller man wearing a hooded, brown cassock. When they reached house the lean man ordered four from the crowd to go inside and search. After a thorough rummage, they returned empty-handed.
“They must have known we were coming,” said the man in the brown cassock. “Maybe it’s true what they say. Maybe the future can be seen by those that wish to see it.”
“Rubbish,” said the lean man. “Nobody’s future is written. They were tipped off. Gone, they have, with all the evidence.” He turned to the crowd. “If only you had listened to me!” he shouted holding his arms up. “If only you had heeded my warnings! Let this be a lesson to you all!”
“I wonder where they’ll go,” said the man in the brown cassock still looking down the road.
“That is not our concern. They have gone.”
The lean man turned and walked back down the road.

Moorlick Meets the Beast
The tilly is a small goat-like animal and in no way should it be confused with a twilly which is a small, hen-like animal. What both have in common, however, is they are highly inquisitive creatures and at any opportunity will look to leave their boarded or wired homes and seek greener pastures, even though the pasture they’re in is probably as green as any other they’re likely to find. Such is the nature of never-satisfied and inquisitive creatures, be they in Goneunderland or our own world, Upoverland.
On top of the tilly’s head grow two small, backward curving horns that are ideal for digging up mufflebump truffles. Sharp teeth can gnaw through the toughest of leaves and even the odd boot should it be left lying about. The tilly’s bleat is more of a high-pitched bark than a baa and is usually the signal for other tilly’s to leave their field and join the wanderer in his or her find. Most flocks will have one lead wanderer that, because of an excess in wanderlust, usually finds itself either tethered to a long rope or a bell hung around its neck.
Pebbleknock (population 823) farmer Moorlick Saltblock had one such tilly and in frustration had not only tethered and belled the animal, had gone as far to enclose her in a small pen in the middle of field. While this might sound a little cruel, the pen was big enough for Fluffy Pom-Pom (as she had been named by Moorlick’s youngest child Biddy, the last time, Moorlick swore, he would let one of his children name one of his stock) to wander about in. She even had her own pile of freshly picked bringle beets. Despite this, Fluffy Pom-Pom had not only chewed through the rope but had forced her way out the pen and in doing so had ripped her bell off. Furthermore, and to add a dash of cheekiness to her great escape, she had jumped a gate right beside Moorlick as he stood chatting with his neighbouring farmer, Moiles Ironbridge.
The sight of Fluffy Pom-Pom disappearing down the road and through a hedge had caused Moorlick to utter several hyphenated oaths in one breath leaving him quite breathless and Moiles more than a little shocked as like most farmers, in both Goneunderland and Upoverland, Moorlick wasn’t a man of many words, particularly long, hyphenated ones. Within the minute, Moorlick and his two eldest sons, Moorlick Junior and Gaff, were in hot pursuit along with Moiles who feared any bleating from Fluffy Pom-Pom would stir his own tilly’s into equally rebellious action.
“I’ve told you before Moorlick,” said a huffing Moiles whose high arm action and bowed legs made him look as though he was trying to step over a sharp object, “ring that bloody beast’s neck!”
“She’s a good breeder,” answered Moorlick. “I’ll not be doing away with a good breeder.”
They followed the tilly across a field and down a road following the telltale signs of little round marbles of pooh.
“That’s torn it,” puffed Gaff as they gathered at a gate. “Look where she’s gone.”
In front of them loomed a wall of trees. The straight bamboo-like trunks of trees known as ironrods stood packed together like a row of defiant soldiers. When their own huffings had stopped, the farmers heard a hiss. High above the forest steam rose into the air.
“She won’t ‘ave gone in there,” said Moiles pushing his hat back. “Tilly’s are daft but not that daft.”
Moorlick wasn’t convinced. “You don’t know this one,” he said quietly. He sent Moorlick Junior and Gaff off to check a nearby field and if they couldn’t find her they were to head home and tell their mother to keep dinner warm as he wouldn’t be long and if any of them touched his food he’d tie them up in Molly Pom-Pom’s pen for the night and they could finish off her perfectly good bringles. When they’d gone, Moorlick and Moiles squeezed themselves between two wet, ironrod trunks.
“I don’t like this,” said Moiles at the rear.
“Just a little way in,” said Moorlick. “If we don’t see her, we’ll head off. Stupid thing can find her own way back.” Quietly, he called for his tilly. “Fluffy Pom-Pom. Fluffy Pom-Pom.”
“She ain’t gonna hear that, is she?” said Moiles. “Say it louder.”
“I don’t want to scare her,” said Moorlick unconvincingly. The Tilly’s name wasn’t one he was prone to pronounce loudly, especially in the presence of other farmers.
Very quickly, the forest’s warmth surrounded them. The vines, for which the