12
Harvest Time
A line of figures stretched across the barren field, their raised scythes glinting in the moonlight. Jed paced in front of the scarecrows, checking his wristwatch and glancing at the sky. The still night air hung heavy with the scent of moist grass, along with a brooding sense of expectation.
“Not much happening,” reflected Edwin, who watched from the cover of a ditch along the edge of the field. “It’s as if they’re waiting for something.”
“Midnight.” Captain Rathbone, now back in fox form, sat crouched beside Edwin. “That’s when the harvest will commence. For tomorrow is Lammas Day, the Ancient Festival of the Harvest.”
“But there’s nothing to harvest,” pointed out Edwin. “The field is dead.”
“Lammas is a Quarter Day,” explained Stubby, who was perched on Edwin’s back. “A midpoint between the Summer and Autumn Equinox. On such days, due to the alignment of the sun and the moon, all magical power is magnified a hundred times. Positive and negative, good and evil.”
Edwin nodded his chicken head. “So Ma and Jed are going to use magic to reap the harvest.”
“And they’ll need it,” observed the Captain. “Nothing has grown on that wretched plot of land for centuries.”
“Guess that’s why it’s called the Cursed Field,” said Edwin.
“There is more to it than that,” revealed the Captain. “There is a local legend that, many centuries ago, an evil field demon took up residence in the field. This demon was known as the Barrenrake.”
“Barrenrake?” Edwin repeated the word. “Barrenrake. Barren-brake. So that’s how the farm got its name.”
The Captain nodded. “The Barrenrake drained the goodness from the land, leaving the field an infertile wasteland. After a run of poor harvests, the local people became desperate, and made sacrifices to appease the demon.”
“You mean…” Edwin clucked uneasily. “Human sacrifices?”
“Oh no,” said the Captain. “Animals. Mostly chickens, I expect.”
That news was little comfort to Edwin. “But why would they bother killing chickens for a bit of corn?”
“In such times,” said the Captain, “humanity existed in a delicate balance between life and death. A failed harvest would mean no bread, no food for the winter. People lived in constant fear of starvation.”
“You wouldn’t know what that’s like,” Stubby told Edwin. “Humans take food for granted these days. It’s there when you want it, all fresh and conveniently packaged.”
“I’m not human anymore,” Edwin reminded Stubby. “Anyway, you haven’t exactly been living in fear of starvation lately. I’ve fed you three times a day, every day, since I took you into my care. And you haven’t had to make any sacrifices.”
Stubby sighed. “Except my self esteem and sanity.”
“So what happened to this demon?” Edwin asked the Captain.
The Captain took a deep breath. “The sacrifices only made things worse. The Barrenrake fed on negative energy, and the people’s fear just made it more powerful. And as it grew in power, so the people became even more afraid, and the demon fed on their fear and grew stronger still. Soon its evil threatened to spread out across the countryside. In the end, it took the most powerful wizards in the land to defeat the Barrenrake, although not even the Wise Ones could restore the goodness to the soil where it had resided.”
Edwin gasped, but it came out as a cluck. “The Wise Ones destroyed the demon?”
“Not destroyed,” said the Captain. “A field demon can never truly be vanquished. Once their power is drained they become dormant, but can rise up again if conditions allow.”
“What sort of conditions?” wondered Edwin.
“As I said,” replied the Captain, “field demons such as the Barrenrake feed on negative energy. Fear, greed and hatred. And magic. Black magic, boosted by the enhancing effects of a Quarter Day.”
That sort of made sense to Edwin. Except one bit. “But why would anyone want to raise a field demon?”
“We may be about to find out,” said the Captain, his pointed fox ears pricking up as a growling engine noise came filtering through the air.
An antiquated tractor came trundling into the field, towing a large empty trailer. The bulky form of Ma sat hunched at the steering wheel, her round face set in a grimly determined manner as she parked the rusting machinery behind the line of standing scarecrows.
Then Edwin saw a dark shape swooping over the field. At first he didn’t pay much attention, but when the bird landed Edwin realised he’d seen it before. The tatty feathers, the balding head, those tiny grey eyes…
Suddenly the bird transformed into a man: a scrawny man with a large beaky nose and a balding head, clad in a tatty dark suit.
“Jack Dawes,” said Captain Rathbone, before Edwin could transform his startled clucking into words.
“I saw him earlier today,” said Edwin, finally getting his clucking under control, and discreetly kicking the egg he’d just laid into the ditch behind him. “He must have been trailing you. I couldn’t be sure at the time, but I should have known he’d be involved.”
“But it isn’t just Dawes,” said Stubby, his voice a panicked squeak. “Look!”
Edwin had already spotted the sleek pale form striding into the field. It was a cat. A cream coloured cat with dark paws and a diamond studded collar.
As Edwin watched, the cat changed shape into a woman: a beautiful woman with high cheekbones and a delicate little nose. She wore a chic white suit, stylish chocolate coloured boots, and a necklace of diamonds that sparkled almost as brightly as her emerald eyes.
“Katya Pauncefoot!” This time Edwin managed to get the words out, although he laid several eggs in the process. “So the Shadow Clan is behind all this!”
“Keep the clucking down,” whispered Stubby. “We should be close enough to hear what they say.”
Ma alighted from the tractor, and performed a clumsy curtsey as she lumbered towards her visitors. “Good evening,” she crooned, in an affected posh accent. “Mr Dawes and Miss Pauncefoot, we are honoured with your presence this evening.”
“Our presence is a necessity,” croaked Mr Dawes. “We must oversee the harvest on behalf of the Ministry of Agriculture.”
“To business,” said Katya, briskly. “Have preparations been made in accordance with our directions?”
“You need have no worries,” replied Ma. “We have prepared everything as instructed.”
“We would expect no less,” said Dawes. “For as we have made clear, failure in this venture will not be accepted by the Ministry.”
“There is one thing,” said Ma, wringing her chubby hands. “That Captain Rathbone has been sniffing around again. I think he may suspect something.”
“He is of no consequence,” purred Katya. “You may leave the do-gooding Captain to us.”
“Have you had any other unexpected visitors?” enquired Dawes, a hint of unease in his croaky voice.
“We had trespassers on the farm today,” revealed Ma. “Just a couple of kiddies. A boy and a girl.”
“Describe them,” ordered Dawes.
“Just a couple of normal kids,” said Ma. “The boy was ginger and skinny. The girl had black hair, and was too lippy for her own good.”
“It’s them!” Katya’s green eyes flashed as she turned to Dawes.
“Impossible,” said Dawes. “The Guardians cannot know of this venture.”
Katya’s stylish blonde head swivelled back to Ma. “Where are these children now?”
“They went for a swim in the Plunge Pool,” explained Ma. “The boy is now a very productive member of our livestock. And the girl…” Ma chuckled. “The girl is helping out in the kitchen, if you know what I mean.”
“Good,” said Dawes. “I am glad the Ministry’s potion has proved so beneficial to your business. But even greater benefits await on successful completion of the harvest.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” said Ma. “We are still to resolve the issue of financial remuneration. You said that if we made our facilities available to the Ministry, we would be well rewarded.”
Dawes nodded. “And so you shall. Barrenbrake Farm will become the most important agricultural establishment in the world. Our produce will be distributed from here all across the globe.”
“And rest assured,” purred Katya, “the Ministry will see you are fully recompensed for your involvement in this undertaking.”
“Of course,” said Ma. “However, if we could talk in more specific financial terms…”
“It is nearing midnight,” said Dawes, glancing at the moon. “Move the workforce into formation.”
Ma performed another clumsy curtsey, and then stomped towards Jed. “Get ‘em ready,” she shouted. “Let’s see if you’ve trained those dumb straw-brained clods proper.”
Jed bellowed orders at the scarecrows, which hobbled away to form a circle around the perimeter of the field.
Edwin spotted his mother’s woollen haired effigy standing nearby, and found it hard to resist calling out to her.
Silence fell again.
“Shouldn’t we be doing something?” he asked the Captain.
“Not yet,” said Captain Rathbone. “Without Wychetts’ magic we wouldn’t stand a chance of stopping the harvest. We must continue with our original plan of infiltrating the farm and locating Bryony. We’ll have to skirt around the edge of the field to avoid the scarecrows. Hopefully they’ll be too preoccupied to spot us, but keep your heads down just in case.”
The Captain led Edwin, with Stubby mounted on his back, around the edge of the Cursed Field. They passed within a few feet of Katya and Dawes, who were whispering frantically to each other. It was a strain, but Edwin could just about make out their words.
“It was them,” said Dawes, his croaky voice shrill with panic. “The Guardian children were here this very day.”
“Relax,” purred Katya. “The fat woman said they have been dealt with.”
Dawes shook his head. “But if they don’t return to Wychetts, there are sure to be repercussions.”
Katya remained calm. “Inglenook can do little about it. And even if he could, he’s fast running out of time. Once the harvest is processed, it will be too late.”
Dawes nodded, and his thin lips curved into something resembling a smile. “And then it will be too late for everybody.”
Katya left Dawes, and strode elegantly into the circle of scarecrows. Ma followed, and Edwin thought he had never seen two such different characters walking side by side.
Katya stopped in the centre of the field, and turned to address Ma. “It is time to administer the potion.”
Ma nodded, and aimed a podgy finger at Jed. “You ‘eard what Miss Pauncefoot said. Now get to it, sharpish.”
Edwin realised that some of the scarecrows were carrying wooden buckets. On Jed’s gruff command, the scarecrows tipped up the buckets and emptied them onto the soil. It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but he thought the liquid that splashed from the buckets had a greenish tinge to it.
“That must be the potion from the Plunge Pool,” said Stubby. “Seems like its some sort of magical fertiliser.”
“Hurry along,” whispered Captain Rathbone. But Edwin’s curiosity had got the better of him, and he couldn’t help but watch as Katya beckoned to Ma.
“You have it?” asked Katya, extending a gloved hand.
Ma nodded. “I hope I’ll be reimbursed for this donation?”
Katya smiled. “As I said, the Ministry will see you are fully recompensed for your role in proceedings. Now hand it over, we cannot delay.”
Ma reached into her apron pocket and drew out a small sack. He couldn’t be certain, but Edwin thought the sack moved as Ma passed it to Katya.
“You must step back,” Katya told Ma. “No mortal shall stand inside the circle of power.”
Ma performed another awkward curtsey, before retreating to the edge of the field where she stood beside Jed.
“Edwin,” hissed the Captain. “Hurry up. We’re running out of time!”
Edwin realised he had stopped moving. He wanted to follow the Captain, but felt strangely transfixed by events unfolding in the middle of the field.
Katya stood alone in the circle of scarecrows, which bowed their heads as she lifted the sack into the air. And then Katya began to chant a strange rhyme:
Oh ancient spirit of the earth
That dwells beneath this field,
We call on thee this Lammas night
Thy harvest for to yield.
With a dramatic flourish, Katya pulled something out of the sack. Something with flapping wings and speckled feathers, making a startled clucking noise.
“Chardonnay!” Edwin couldn’t believe his chicken eyes. “They’ve got Chardonnay!”
Holding Chardonnay by the legs, Katya continued her rhyme:
By moon, by sun, by fire and rain,
By bitter drought and flood,
Accept from us, oh Barrenrake
This offering of blood!
Katya raised her free hand; a long hooked claw extended from her index finger, and then Edwin realised poor Chardonnay’s fate…
She was to be sacrificed!
But he wouldn’t let that happen. Not to the Mother Hen, the leader of his brood. So with a raucous squawk of outrage, Edwin charged at Katya.
“What are you doing?” squealed Stubby, clinging to Edwin’s back. “You’ll get us both killed!”
“Stop!” cried the Captain. “We shouldn’t take them on without backup!”
But Edwin wasn’t going to wait for backup.
He broke through the circle of scarecrows, none of which seemed to notice his presence. Neither did Katya, her emerald gaze locked on Chardonnay as she angled her claw slowly towards the chicken’s plump breast.
Edwin ran as fast as his skinny chicken legs would carry him. He flapped his wings until it hurt. And suddenly he was airborne!
Katya’s clawed finger arced through the air. Her red lips curled in a demonic smile; a smile that turned into a grimace as she saw something flying towards her.
Katya staggered backwards, shielding her face as Edwin attacked in a frenzy of flapping feathers. Chardonnay twisted free from Katya’s grip, and flew off with a defiant squawk.
Recovering from her shock, Katya went on the offensive. She slashed at Edwin with her claw, and sliced off three of his tail feathers before he decided on a tactical withdrawal.
“Get the chicken!” screeched Katya.
“Which chicken?” asked Jed, trying to follow both Edwin and Chardonnay as they made off across the field.
“Any one will do,” said Katya. “We need a blood sacrifice!”
“Where are you going?” shrieked Stubby, who had somehow managed to remain on Edwin’s back. “We should re-group with the Captain.”
In his panic, Edwin had lost all sense of direction. Eventually he spotted a bushy fox tail, swishing a signal at the edge of the field. But by then it was too late.
“Got him!” Jed beamed with pride as he held the struggling Edwin aloft.
“Bring it here,” ordered Katya, waving her claw tipped finger.
Then there was a squawk, and a blur of white speckly feathers. Jed dropped Edwin, then clutched his nose and howled with pain.
“That’ll teach you,” clucked Chardonnay, giving Jed a peck on the backside for good measure. “Manhandling of the workforce constitutes a violation of the Hens Workers Rights.”
Edwin fluttered to the ground, but twisted his right leg as he landed. Stubby squealed encouragement, but Edwin found he couldn’t stand up. Meanwhile Jed had recovered from the assault, and was directing his furious ferrety gaze at the stricken Edwin.
Dark fluid leaked from a wound on Jed’s bulbous nose, splattering onto the earth in front of him.
“I’ll get you,” he vowed, raising a booted foot. “I’ll wring both your necks!”
“There is no need for further bloodshed.” Katya strode towards Jed, pointing to the ground. Edwin saw the earth was hissing and bubbling where Jed’s blood had fallen.
“All it took was the blood of a dumb animal,” purred Katya. “The sacrifice has been made, and the Barrenrake shall rise!”
Edwin felt the ground tremble, and heard a strange crunching noise from deep below. Then the earth cracked, and something sprouted from the soil in front of him...
It was a thick tendril, writhing from the ground like a giant black worm.
There was a startled shout from Jed, and Edwin saw more worms emerging all over the field. And as the worms grew, an awful wailing noise filled the air.
“It rises,” cried Katya, spreading her arms in exultation. “The Barrenrake returns!”
“Get the workforce ready,” croaked Dawes, as Jed and Ma gawped at each other. “It’s harvest time!”