Free Rocking Horse War by Lari Don

his hair, picking out bits of grit and heather. He raised his silver gun and aimed at the alert hind. Then he lowered the weapon and looked at Pearl.
    “Did you enjoy that, then?” he demanded.
    “I enjoy a challenge.”
    “But who were you challenging? Yourself or me? This isn’t a game.”
    “Are you sure it isn’t a game?” She raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t we playing for the future of the triplets?”
    “If we are, you’ll win the crawling-like-a-snake competition, but I have many other talents up my sleeve.”
    “Actually, you have a beetle up your sleeve.”
    He jerked his arms, flicking his hands at the ground, and when nothing fell out, he scowled at her.
    Pearl grinned. She was truly happy for the first time since she’d heard Father’s voice last night. Then she glanced behind her at the Grey Men’s Grave. Still in the morning shadow of the Anvil, it looked deep and dark and cold.

Chapter 11
    The shadow of the Anvil would hide Pearl and Thomas from any birds swooping in the high bright air. So, in the fewest words possible, they agreed it was safe to get up and walk through the pass.
    The ground wasn’t flat, but it wasn’t a hard climb either, so for five minutes they walked together without arguing or racing each other.
    Pearl looked up at the steep slopes of the mountains to her left and right. The huge weight of ice which had moved this way millennia ago had ripped rocks from the mountains and dragged them along, scraping out this pass. Then the glacier had thrown the rocks away.
    Stepping round the moraine scattered by the ice, Pearl felt chilled. Even though it was late morning, the sun still hadn’t reached into the Grey Men’s Grave because the peaks either side were so high.
    “Why is it called the Grey Men’s Grave?” she asked. “Is anyone buried here?”
    Thomas stepped in front of her and grimaced, showing all his straight white teeth. “Are you scared of ghosts?”
    “I don’t believe in ghosts.”
    “You don’t have much imagination, do you?” 
    Pearl suddenly imagined Thomas falling face first into the slimy bog which had trapped the gold hoop, and she bit her lip to stop herself laughing. She’d enough imagination for that. Then she saw her house, empty and tidy, no triplets to annoy her. Was that her destiny?
    She shook her head clear of pictures. “I was hoping for facts, not ghost stories. Do you know why it’s called the Grey Men’s Grave? Is it just because it’s deep and dark?”
    “It does feel like we’re six feet under, doesn’t it?” Thomas squared his shoulders to hide a sudden shiver. “I’ll tell you as we walk. This isn’t the list of boring facts you’d prefer, but it’s the story my family tell.
    “Many generations ago, the mountains were cared for by my family. So were the haughs and fields to the south and the moors and forests to the north. We had many houses and castles, but the family stronghold, where valuables and women were taken when enemies threatened, was high in the mountains.”
    “Valuables and women, indeed.” Pearl snorted. “What enemies did your family have?”
    “Rival clans. The English. Vikings. Romans even, long enough ago.”
    “Your family has always been good at annoying people, then.”
    He looked at her sharply, but kept speaking. “Centuries ago, Hugh Landlaw, Lord of the Mountains, Moors and Meadows, had no sons to inherit his lands and power. But his two daughters married well: both wed younger sons of families who used landlore. They were called Tam Horsburgh and Johnnie Swann.
    “In order to choose his heir, Landlaw set his sons-in-law three tasks. The one who completed all three would be the next lord, holding the key to the mountains’ music, as well as controlling the moors and meadows.”
    Pearl listened to Thomas’s steady voice as they walked briskly through the pass.
    “The tasks were set in the month the Lord turned fifty. The first was to prove their skills by using landlore to