Gilly’s mouth dropped open and she gasped as the imprecation rebounded off the trees that lined the brook’s edge. She wiped mud, from the hand that had just flung the missile, on the thigh of her breeches and backed up cautiously to where Rose stood. Keeping both eyes on the mud spattered man, she whispered to her friend. ‘This doesn’t bode well for a good start, does it? I doubt he’ll take kindly now to our wanting to help him out, now, will he.’
‘Will he?’ Gilly repeated. ‘Rose?!’ Gilly turned her head slightly to the left to see what had stopped her friend from speaking. Rose’s face was lined with a smile of pure impish delight. In her hand was a large globule of thick brook sludge.
‘We have you at our mercy now, Man!’ Gilly heard her friend call out.
‘Rose! No!’ Gilly watched in horror as Rose launched the muddy orb . . .
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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