Free The Time Hunters (Book 1 of the acclaimed series for children of all ages) by Carl Ashmore

door,
checking each room, but found each one empty. Then he heard footsteps. Whipping
round, sword raised, he saw Will emerge from the passageway, his bow and quiver
of arrows across his back, a sword in his right hand.
    ‘I was in the far field,’ Will said. ‘I heard nothing.’
    ‘Not to worry, Will,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘I’m glad
you’re here. There are four of them. They’ll be well-armed.’ Then, to his
frustration, he saw three familiar shapes race into the Entrance Hall. Becky
and Joe stood there, panting, Milly at their side. ‘I thought I told you to
stay at the tree-house.’
    ‘We wanted to help,’ Becky said.
    ‘That’s right,’ Joe added.
    Uncle Percy’s expression softened. ‘Then go and
comfort Maria and Jacob in the morning room. They’ve been through a terrible
ordeal.’ He turned back to Will.   ‘I’ve
checked the downstairs rooms. Let’s try upstairs. If we’re lucky, they’re still
here. Just remember, Will. They’re very dangerous.’
    Fury crossed Will’s face. ‘As am
I.’
    Uncle Percy moved swiftly upstairs, Will to his
rear. They stole down the corridor, and promptly stopped.
    Becky’s bedroom door was ajar.   In a flash, he kicked the door open. His eyes
bulged. The room had been ransacked. Bed linen had been torn and strewn on the
floor, pillows ripped apart, drawers emptied, cabinets overturned, clothes and jewellery
scattered everywhere.
    But there was no sign of Kruger.
    Will left the room, only to return moments later.
‘Joe’s chamber has been ravaged, too.’
    Uncle Percy stood there, confused, speechless. He
surveyed the chaos, desperately trying to make sense of what had happened. The
intruders had looted Becky and Joe’s rooms. But why?
    For the next hour, Uncle Percy and Will scoured the
rest of the Hall looking for clues that would explain why Kruger had broken
into the Hall. They found no other damage, with the exception of a painting
that had been ripped from the banquet room wall and impaled on a figurine. A portrait
of the German industrialist responsible for saving over a thousand Jews in the
Second World War and one of the finest men Uncle Percy had ever met.
    It was a portrait of Oskar Schindler.
    *
    By early evening Becky and Joe had searched their
rooms thoroughly to find nothing had been taken. At seven, everyone gathered in
the parlour. It was a chilly night and a shocked Maria sat by the fire,
shivering, her blank eyes locked on the dancing flames, a thick woollen blanket
coiled tightly round her shoulders. Jacob sat alongside his wife, stroking her
hands tenderly. Will stood by the window, clearly
furious the intruders had escaped.
    Becky was sitting at the table, her gaze fixed on
the wall. After a few minutes of confused silence, she spoke, ‘Why us? Why our rooms?’
    ‘I don’t know, Becky,’ Uncle Percy said softly. ‘I
really don’t. But there is one thing I do know: it’s not safe for you here. I’ll phone your mother and drive you back to
Manchester tonight.’
    Becky looked mortified. ‘No way. We want to stay here. Don’t we, Joe?’
    Joe nodded. ‘Too right.’
    ‘But it’s not safe,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘There are
things happening that I can’t -’
    ‘We don’t care,’ Becky said. ‘We want to stay with you !’
    ‘I’m sorry, but if Otto Kruger and his thugs are -’
    Becky interjected. ‘- Are after us, then we’re best
staying here.’
    ‘I don’t think they are after you. I don’t see how
they can be.’
    Becky sat up sharply. ‘Well they were after
something. And that something was in our rooms, right?’
    ‘It appears so.’ Uncle Percy sighed. ‘That’s why you
should be at home with -’
    ‘With who, mum?’ Becky
interrupted. ‘What’s she going to do if they turn up, hit them with a baguette?
Here we’ve got you to protect us, and Will, and a prehistoric tiger with
massive fangs. Back home we’ve got no one.’
    Uncle Percy’s eyes searched out Will’s, eager for
advice. Will