spoken. The horses thunder past a white post. A bird flying
through the rain. The moon turns blue over the mighty oak. The shouting dies
away. ’Tis done, ’tis done.’
Slowly
Catweazle’s eyes lost their blind stare and he turned to Carrot and scratched
himself. The wood crackled on the fire.
‘Well?’
said Carrot eagerly, ‘who’s going to win?’
‘Ass-eared
turnspit!’ said Catweazle rising impatiently.
‘But I
thought you were going to tell me the winners!’
‘Thou
art a fool! The Eye of Time is shut to thee! I go to Castle Saburac, and better
company!’ And picking up Touchwood Catweazle strode off angrily into the wood.
Carrot
was still puzzling why he had been so angry when he got back to the farm. Then
he remembered Sam’s bets and phoned the betting shop, stuffing a handkerchief
in his mouth to disguise his voice.
‘Sam
Woodyard here,’ he mumbled through the handkerchief, giving the account number.
He had often helped like this when Sam hadn’t been able to get to the phone
himself.
‘Yes,
Mr Woodyard?’ said the bookie.
‘Lingfield.
Two thirty, Kettledrum; three fifteen, Royal Court,’ said Carrot, reading from
Sam’s piece of paper.
‘Got
that,’ said the bookie. ‘You got a shocking cold, mate.’
‘Newmarket,’
Carrot went on, ‘four o’clock, Black Beauty. And they’re all five bob each
way.’
Later,
when Sam was working in one of the fattening sheds, Carrot, who had watched the
race on television, came in with the result of the two-thirty.
‘Well?’
said Sam, ‘did Kettledrum win?’
‘No,’
said Carrot, ‘it was a horse called Rainbird.’
‘Rainbird!’
Sam was disgusted. ‘That’s the last time I go to Madame Rosa!’
‘Gosh!’
said Carrot suddenly, ‘ “a bird flying through the rain.” ’
‘What’s
that old son?’
Carrot
sat down on a bale of straw. ‘A bird flying through the rain’, Catweazle had
said, and the winning horse had been Rainbird. What else had the old man said?
Something about the moon and a tree. ‘The moon turns blue, over the mighty
oak.’ Yes, that was it!
‘Are
you all right, Carrot?’ Sam asked anxiously, seeing his rather dazed
expression.
‘Is
there a horse called Mighty Oak running this afternoon?’ asked Carrot.
‘Yes,’
said Sam, ‘in the four o’clock at Newmarket.’ Carrot gasped. ‘What about Blue
Moon?’ he said.
‘Blue
Moon’s in the three-fifteen at Lingfield. What’s all this about, Carrot? Has
someone given you a tip?’
It was
true then, thought Carrot. Catweazle could pick the winners. That was what he
meant by the Eye of Time!
‘Listen,
Sam,’ he said, ‘we’ve got to change those bets of yours. Blue Moon and Mighty
Oak are going to win.’
‘But
I’ve backed Royal Court and Black Beauty.’
‘I
don’t care! They haven’t a chance! I just know it!’ ‘Take it easy, Carrot,’
said Sam, ‘them bets is laid now an’ I don’t want ’em changed.’
‘All
right,’ said Carrot. ‘But don’t say I didn’t tell you.’
In his
bedroom, Carrot emptied out his money box. There was about three pounds in bits
and pieces. The model aeroplane would have to wait, he thought. Anyhow, with
Catweazle to tell him the winners, he would make a fortune. He would be able to
buy his father the grain drier he wanted, and Sam could have a sports car. He
glanced at his watch. Only half an hour to get Catweazle to the betting shop.
Carrot
ran all the way to the water tower.
‘Catweazle!’
he gasped as he stumbled down into the tank, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.
But I do now, and I think you’re the greatest magician in the world.’
Catweazle
was very surprised to see the young sorcerer so humble.
‘So,
thou jackdaw, thou singest a new song now!’ ‘You’ve got to come with me, into
Westbourne,’ said Carrot urgently.
‘Nay,’
said Catweazle, ‘I fear the enchanted chariots.’ ‘But we’re brothers,
remember?’
‘Mayhap,
mayhap,’ said