Free London Wild by V. E. Shearman Page A

looked up briefly but seemed more interested in the book he was reading than in potentially making a sale. To the right of the entryway there was a set of cascading shelves containing books of maps, books on maps and books on the history of mapmaking. The other two walls seemed to contain wine racks, but the various partitions were currently being used by large rolled-up maps. In the middle of the shop there was even a table so these could be unfurled and checked properly to see if they were really what the customer was looking for.
    Myajes turned to face the shopkeeper, but the man seemed so engrossed in his book that he didn’t respond at all.
    ‘Do you have any large maps of the forest?’ Myajes asked. He didn’t think it likely, but he had to ask.
    The man grumbled to himself and placed the book he was reading grumpily down on the counter, keeping it open to the page he was on. ‘Which forest?’
    ‘The one just to the west of us,’ Myajes responded , a little surprised. What forest did the man think he meant?
    ‘Which era?’ The shopkeeper walked over to the further of the two wine racks and began to check through them.
    ‘As recent as possible!’ Myajes replied.
    The shopkeeper shook his head slowly and moved away from the racks. ‘I have nothing of that area printed in this century. I guess the roads that pass through that part of the country don’t change enough to require new maps all that often.’
    Myajes couldn’t help wondering how often the streets in London itself changed, since there seemed to have been a deluge of such maps during his search.
    The man moved over to the rack of books and pulled one off the shelves. ‘I seem to remember seeing an old one in here, a historically important map because it’s the last one ever made of the area.’ He flipped through the book until he found the right page and then handed it to Myajes. It was quite a large format book, maybe eleven inches by nine, but the map shown only took up half a page.
    Myajes looked at the map for a moment , finding it very hard to make out any of the details. The caption claimed it was printed over seventy years ago. ‘Do you also sell magnifying glasses?’
    ‘I don’t,’ the shopkeeper commented, ‘although I have no doubt you can find one in the mall somewhere. I do , however, have one for incidental use. I just can’t sell it to you.’
    ‘Is it powerful?’ Myajes asked.
    ‘Well, it’s intended for use with the larger maps, but I’m sure it’ll be better than nothing,’ the shopkeeper replied. He fetched the glass from its normal home behind the counter.
    Myajes didn’t have a lot of hope as he examined the map, but the Cattery had been there for a few hundred years, so maybe there would be some clue on this map. If only it had been bigger. No doubt the publisher had been given instructions not to print a readable-sized version by the same people who had prevented any map being printed since.
    The roads seemed to have no real form to them. If there was any clue in where the roads went, then he wasn’t seeing it. A couple of the roads seemed to lead nowhere. The words ‘nature reserve’ sat on the ends of these roads ; they were unlikely to put something like that in a place they didn’t want people to visit.
    Something then caught his eye. It was a road in the forest leading to a small camp that bore the legend Army Training Camp and Grounds – Keep out. It was true that there might have been an army camp there seventy years ago. There might even be a good chance it was still there. A forest like this might be ideal for those in the military who wanted to put on the occasional war game, and a nearby billet would be perfect, but something about it seemed wrong. Myajes couldn’t be sure it was the right place, but it’d be a good place to start. If he was wrong, he’d just have to study the map again.
    ‘Do you want the book?’ the shopkeeper asked.
    ‘I’ll take it,’ Myajes responded, ‘and if you