Free ISOF by Pete Townsend Page A

to the future.’
    â€˜Without history, we are nothing,’ snapped Lord Tolc. ‘The sacred oak is a symbol of our past, our present and our future.’
    The tall figure bowed slowly. ‘I must remind you, my Lord, that the oak is dead.’
    Waving his finger accusingly at the tall figure, Lord Tolc eased himself from the chair and hopped, angrily from foot to foot.
    â€˜Poisoned by those despicable Jaresh,’ he fumed. ‘They’ve soiled our rivers, ravaged our forests and are a blight on our lives.’
    The tall figure moved forward, his hands making soothing gestures. ‘Do remember your blood pressure, my Lord,’ he crooned.
    â€˜Blood pressure?’ yelled Lord Tolc. ‘The Jaresh make my blood boil, that’s what they do.’ He turned to face Ben and raised his finger accusingly. ‘And why did you try to steal Smegglebert’s ducks?’
    â€˜But Sir,’ mumbled Ben. ‘I really don’t know what you mean. I was just doing what my Dad asked me when suddenly weird things began to happen and...’
    Lord Tolc was busily waving his hands in front of Ben’s face.
    â€˜Infantile ramblings,’ he growled. ‘I ought to have you thrown into the deepest dungeon and throw away the key.’
    â€˜I’m not an infant and I’m not rambling,’ replied Ben angrily. ‘It’s all a simple mistake.’
    â€˜Mistake?’ snapped Lord Tolc. ‘Mistake you say? I’ll tell you what was a mistake,’ he continued. Taking a couple of steps towards Ben, Lord Tolc began wagging his finger directly at him. ‘Your mistake was to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.’
    â€˜I didn’t have much choice,’ began Ben before a hand clamped itself over his mouth. A powerful smell of freshly dug soil and apples assailed Ben’s nostrils.
    â€˜My Lord, forgive his lack of understanding,’ smiled the voice. ‘He isn’t familiar with our ways.’
    The hand released its grip and Ben turned his head to see a tall youth with a sun-tanned face, wink at Ben and place a finger against its lips.
    Lord Tolc sniffed noisily. ‘Children nowadays...’
    â€˜I’m not a child I’m...’ protested Ben.
    The youth tapped him on the shoulder and shook his head.
    â€˜Sorry,’ mumbled Ben.
    â€˜Eh? What’s that you say? Speak up for goodness sake. Better still, be quiet and listen.’ Lord Tolc brushed the sleeves of his pale blue jacket and coughed. ‘As I was saying, we Dilpends are a proud people and...’
    The tall figure in the silky hat coughed.
    â€˜My Lord, you’ve already explained.’
    â€˜Explained?’ asked Lord Tolc sternly. ‘I’ve hardly begun.’
    As he talked, Lord Tolc began pacing up and down the aisle leading to his impressive chair. His ambles took him alongside the desk where the scribe was busily scribbling. Without a pause in his speech, he deftly removed the single flower from the vase that stood on the desk, and promptly drank the water. The scribe didn’t bother to look up at Lord Tolc, but simply reached over to the flower and replaced it in the now empty vase. Lord Tolc, by this time heading back towards the chair, placed his thumbs on the edges of his robe and turned to face Ben.
    â€˜So, what do you think, boy?’
    Ben opened his mouth to speak, but had barely drawn breath when Lord Tolc began to pace the room once more.
    â€˜You don’t look much like a thief to me,’ he said, waving an arm dismissively. The tall figure placed his hand to his mouth and gave a polite cough. His bushy grey eyebrows danced as he spoke.
    â€˜My Lord,’ he began. ‘Are we certain we have a thief in our midst, or,’ he paused theatrically and then extended a robed arm towards Ben. ‘An infiltrator!’
    Voices shouted from every side of the room. Fists were shaken at Ben and several people mimed a noose