Angel

Chapter 3 - Attack

The sounds of horse hooves crunching through gravel did not seem to be heard by my young master. As he looked out the window of the cart, anyone would think he was idly watching the numerous trees go past, thinking of nothing except how blue the sky was. However, I knew he was immersed deeply in thought.  I doubted he would be able to concentrate on today’s case given his condition. It takes a great deal of concentration to solve a mystery, any detective will know this. However, when this job is mixed with the workings of the human mind, it becomes a near impossible task. I suppose you could say this is my young master’s line of work. Although he is not recognised by the government, his skill and gift make him an underground psychiatrist - a last resort, for most.

"Victor", my young master began, before pausing.

"Yes, Master?"

He didn't respond. I was about to open my mouth to ask if he was all right, when it suddenly felt as though time itself slowed down. My young masters head turned slowly towards me, and in my mind it felt so slow it was as though he was possessed. Suddenly, there was an incredible bang, and the horses reared in shock. The cart tilted to one side, and my young master’s eyes widened in shock. He slowly fell forward, and in a flash I caught him in my arms, cradling him against the impact of the cart falling to the ground.

After I had quickly checked my young master for injuries, he opened his eyes slowly, his own meeting mine. I gave him a look of reassurance, before lifting my arm up to the door, which was now above us. My fingers clasped around the handle, and I pushed the door open. I crouched down, before springing out of the cart, landing softly on the lush grass, and placing my young master back softly to his feet.  My strength was certainly disproportionate to my figure, and this was one of the reasons I was hired to protect my young master.

Suddenly, I heard a voice break through the terrified neighs of the horses, clear and mocking.

“You did well to come out of that unscathed”

I looked around, my eyes carefully surveying our surroundings; Large oaks waved in the breeze, birds flitted between branches, but there was no one to be seen.

“I wonder if it’ll stay that way”

The voice sounded like that of a young boy. No more than 13 or 14. I looked around, frantically this time, in order to get a glimpse of him. He laughed.

“You won’t find me. I’m not really here.”

I started to pace towards the voice, cautiously.  My young master was standing, brushing dust from his coat. He was probably putting on a brave act, recovering from the shock. I knew him too well.

“Show yourself!” I yelled into the darkness of the woods. My voice echoed back at me, deep and sharp.

As I took another pace, grass folding underfoot, I waited for a response.  Every noise of the forest alerted me to a possible danger.  Every movement could be an attack.

“Oh, you’ll find me – or rather, I’ll find you.”

That was the last we heard of the boy that day.  I don’t believe even my young master comprehended the severity of the event which had occurred at that time. I suppose it was not until later that we realised just how important every detail would become.

My master sat displeased upon a boulder as I began to lift up the cart for repairs. I suppose it was no throne.

After I had finished fitting the new wheel, my young master and I had to decide whether we could continue on or go back to the mansion.

“The call is yours, master.”

He looked at me blankly, before turning his head to look down the seemingly endless road we had been on, towards our destination.

“Was that Simon?”

I was surprised that my young master had even been aware of his surrounding after the shock of the crash. One again he managed to surprise me. It would probably have been a lot easier on me if I had just expected the unexpected.

“It’s likely. He fits the description the villagers gave to us: Mischievous and dangerous.”

My young master continued to stare down the path, with that seemingly nonchalant glaze over his eyes.

“We continue. I will not be halted by the meddling of a child.”

“Very good, Master.”

After many impatient glares at the now-injured cart driver from my young master, we reached our destination. A small village, just past the Coquin River. The village was insignificant to us at the time, we did not even know its name, only that it resided somewhere in Shireston. It was merely another destination, another case. Or so we thought.

“Thank goodness you’re here!”

The cry broke through the tranquil singing of birds. My young master and I looked towards the source as we exited the cart.  Our enthusiasm was certainly not at a high.

“It’s terrible! Oh it’s just terrible!”

I decided to intervene. “Please, calm down madam. What seems to be the problem?”

The woman was plump – perhaps in her 40’s. She was waving a wooden spoon as she wailed, charging towards us with tears streaming from her eyes. I might have found the sight humorous, if I did not have composure to keep.

“Simon! Poor Simon! Oh he’s…he’s dead! Oh my poor Simon!”

My young master’s composure was not broken.

“Oh, take us to him then.”

The look of horror she had at my young master’s apparent lack of care was one that broke my face into a wry smile.

“Come now, take us to him” I said quickly, attempting to distract the poor woman.