The Knights of Eruin

The Knights of Eruin

by Miles Goodenuff

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2007 Miles Goodenuff

Published by Strict Publishing International

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter One - Horrible Children

I hate them, Lucy whispered, pointing at the group of children at the other end of the playground. They are totally horrible.

Be quiet, Michael told her. They will hear you and then they’ll stare at you. I hate it when they stare at us.

They could not possibly have heard Lucy’s whisper, but sure enough as Michael had predicted two of them turned round and stared in their direction.

I told you, Michael whispered to her urgently. Quickly, let’s go indoors before something happens.

He took his sister’s hand, and together they retreated into the school. They went straight to the library, the only place inside the school where the rules permitted them to remain during a break if the weather was fine. Rules were rules, and although neither Lucy nor Michael considered themselves goody-goodies they were both sensible enough not to break school rules without a very good reason.

The library was empty. On a warm day like today few children would want to be inside any longer than they had to be, and after a morning of the usual lessons in the swelteringly hot classrooms the playground and the school field were even more attractive than usual.

What are we going to do? Lucy whispered to her brother. "They keep looking at us. It's every day now. They want something from us but they won't say what they want. I think it's dangerous."

Don’t be silly, Michael told her firmly. And you don’t need to whisper in here. They can’t possibly hear you.

He was older than Lucy, nearly eleven and in year six at the school. That made him important and knowledgeable. In a little more than six weeks he would be going to secondary school, and as a senior at the primary school he was absolutely certain he knew pretty nearly everything there was to know about the school and about everything and everyone in it.

I am sure they can hear us wherever we are, Lucy said obstinately. She was two years younger than her brother, and at least twice as determined and stubborn when she had made up her mind about something. They can see inside our heads.

Now you are being silly. Michael was laughing at her. No one can see inside your head. Anyway, yours would be too messy. If Mum could see inside your head she would tell you to clear it up!

She smacked him in the ribs with the back of her hand, not hard, but enough to tell him she was annoyed with him.

Don’t, he said. That hurt.

"No it didn’t. You can be nearly as horrible as they are sometimes. And they can see inside my head, I know they can. They know what I am thinking before I think it. Siobhan always knows. She gets the answers right when I know them just to stop me answering them."

"Siobhan in your class? Her sister is in my class. Myra never says anything. She just looks when Mr Jones is going to ask her a question, and then Mr Jones asks someone else instead."

You see? Lucy said triumphantly. They can put things in your head too. That’s what they do with Mr Jones so he doesn’t make them answer questions when they don’t want to. They’re bad, I know they are.

You’re still being silly. They are just a bit different, that’s all. They come from an island or something.

Ireland, Lucy corrected him. I know, because Miss Strong said. But Megan Murphy is from Ireland and she isn’t different. She’s nice. They aren’t different because they come from somewhere different. They are different because they are different.

Lucy was right. The five children, three girls and two boys, had joined the school two years ago when the Riley family had moved into the area, and now there was one of the five in each of the school years from year two to the sixth year in which Michael was too. Although none of them had ever caused any trouble that the teachers could identify, there was something undeniably odd about them and most of the other children tended to keep away from them whenever they could.

Michael gave Lucy a sideways look. He always did that when she said something unexpectedly bright and accurate. Sometimes she surprised him and everyone else. She had a remarkable memory for facts when she wanted to use it. She would often remind him of something that someone had said months or years ago, something that he too must have heard but either he had not listened or had not bothered to remember. His memory, he knew, was selective. He remembered what he wanted to remember and threw away the rest, frequently becoming annoyed with himself when there was something he knew he should know and could not remember it. Lucy seemed to remember everything, but never bothered to use most of it.

Let’s go outside again, he suggested. It’s boring in here.

I think they’re witches, Lucy told him in a conspiratorial voice. I think they are bad witches and wizards.

Not good witches, like you? asked Michael with a grin.

Lucy’s face was completely serious. How did you know? she asked.

There’s no such thing, Michael said with complete certainty, ignoring his sister’s daft comment. Not in real life, only in books and films.

They must be something else, Lucy decided. Something even more horrible. I’m going to block them out of my head so they can’t see the mess in there.

Michael shook his head. You’re as bad as them sometimes, he said. Never mind. It will be the holidays soon, and then you won’t have to see them at all. Then they won't be able to bother you.

No, Lucy agreed. I’ll just have you bothering me instead.

Michael was trying to think of a reply that would be suitably annoying. He had just settled on Not as much as you bother me, knowing it was not particularly funny or clever but unable to think of anything better on the spur of the moment, when Mr Jones, his teacher, appeared and shooed them outside.

You don’t want to spend your time in the library on a beautiful day like this, he told them. Go and enjoy the sunshine.

For the moment, the Riley children were forgotten as Michael and Lucy headed in separate directions to join other friends from their own classes. Neither of them noticed that Myra Riley was silently watching them.

Chapter Two – The First Day of the Holidays

The first day of the summer holidays arrived as first days of holidays should always arrive. Both Lucy and Michael stayed in bed for nearly an hour longer than they would have done on a normal school day.

They were not asleep, and they were not particularly tired. They did not get up because they did not have to get up, and because no one told them to get up. On a normal day Michael Turner was usually out of bed long before anyone else in the Turner household, and at least an hour before he needed to be ready for school. Today was different. With plenty of time to do all the many things he wanted to do, there was simply no rush. It was a luxury to have nearly six long weeks stretching out before them without the need to hurry in the mornings.

Finally, it was the sound of other children outside in the street that roused Lucy and Michael from their beds. The urge to play was greater than the temptation to enjoy the luxury of being able to do nothing.

Mum! Mum! Mum! Can I go out? Can I go out?

Lucy rushed down the stairs. I’m tired, she announced a little less loudly as soon as she reached the living room.

You stayed in your bed too long, her mother told her with a smile. Yes, you can go out as soon as you are dressed, but stay where I can see you. I don’t want to be searching high and low for you when it’s lunchtime.

Michael also dressed and went outside. It was another scorching hot day, and many of the children who went to their school were already out in small groups, talking, laughing, and playing with toys, bicycles, skateboards or scooters. Although each of the houses had a perfectly good garden, the children were always out at the front on the pavements or even in the road. Being a small road that did not lead anywhere, the only vehicles were usually those of the people who lived there who knew very well to expect children playing in the road as they approached their houses. It was safe, or at least it was as safe as any road possibly could be. Even so, Lucy and Michael’s mother had warned them to watch out for cars and to stay well away from the corner where a vehicle might come round unexpectedly.

Look. Michael nudged Lucy as they went out of their front door.

WHAT? she said in annoyance. Don’t do that. I’m going to play with Emily.

Look up the road. What are they doing? They don’t usually come anywhere near here.

Lucy looked, and saw four of the Riley children in a group on the far corner of the road.

I don’t know, she said. And I don’t care. As long as they don’t come down here I don’t care. I’m not playing with them. I’m ignoring them.

Lucy walked determinedly in the opposite direction. She was less than half way to Emily’s house when she stopped as though suddenly frozen to the spot. Very slowly, she turned.

Go away, she shouted. I’m not talking to you.

Michael hurried up to her. What’s the matter? he asked, concerned. I thought you were going to ignore them.

I am, she insisted. I was ignoring them until they shouted. Make them go away.

Michael looked up the road at the Riley children. They had not moved. They stood in a silent group.

They’re not bothering us, he said. They’re just standing there. They aren’t doing anything.

As if she had heard him, Myra raised her arm. They were too far away to be absolutely certain, but Michael was sure she was smiling. He turned back to Lucy.

They aren’t doing anything, he said, now less sure of himself. Look.

He pointed towards the end of the road to show her that they were just standing there doing nothing. His arm fell back to his side in surprise. They were not there.

It’s OK. They’ve gone, he told Lucy. They didn’t do anything.

I hate it when they shout to me like that, Lucy said. Someone might think they are my friends, and they’re not. I hate them. She shook her head, her long blonde hair waving from side to side emphasising her words.

They didn’t shout, Michael said in surprise. They didn’t say anything. They just stood there, then Myra put up her hand and they went.

Lucy stamped her foot. You don’t know anything, she said angrily. You can’t hear anything. You don’t know what it’s like.

She stalked off towards her friend’s house, leaving Michael once again firmly convinced that girls, even his sister, were considerably sillier than boys. All the same, the Rileys were certainly a little odd, except possibly Myra. She, he thought, might be quite nice to get to know a bit better. He had found himself thinking about her from time to time. Her long dark hair and tanned skin was such a contrast to his sister’s fairness, and it would be awfully nice if she were his friend.

Michael shook his head to clear his thoughts. He did not like girls and that was that. They were silly creatures with none of the common sense of boys. Dark or fair they were all the same. They just did not make sense.

He rushed up the road as Jack kicked a football in his direction. That was better. Football was a proper boys game. He looked over his shoulder as he kicked the ball, to make absolutely and completely sure that Myra Riley was not there, watching him. She most definitely was not, and for some reason he did not understand that made him terribly disappointed.

Chapter Three – Going Away

Michael and Lucy would have been quite happy to spend the whole of the summer holidays doing little more than playing with the other children living in their road. Their parents, however, had other ideas.

We’ve booked a holiday, their mother told them. We’re going down to Melmering-by-Sea to stay at Auntie May’s cottage.

I don’t want to go, Michael said firmly. Auntie May always wants me to play games with her, and I get bored.

Auntie May won’t be there, their mother told them, She’s going away on a cruise for three weeks. We will have the place to ourselves.

I want to go to Disneyland, Lucy declared. It’s much better than Melmering. Melmering is boring.

Their mother smiled. Not this year, she said. We can’t afford it. Maybe we can go another year. Anyway, you like Melmering. If the weather is nice you will have a great time on the beach, and now that both of you can swim properly it will be perfect.

I never get to go anywhere I want, Lucy grumbled. I never get to go anywhere at all. I want to stay here with my friends.

Well, I have a surprise for you both. I was talking to Mrs Riley yesterday down at the school, and she says they are renting a house just up the road from Aunt May’s cottage. So you will have all the Riley children to play with.

No! Lucy was horrified. I’m not going.

Oh come on, Lucy, her mother coaxed her. You like Siobhan, don’t you? She’s in your class and your teacher says you get on very well with her. I know that Michael likes Myra too, don’t you Michael?

Not particularly, Michael told her. She’s all right, I suppose. He turned away, thoughtfully.

I’m definitely not going, Lucy said. No way. I’m staying here.

We’re going, and that’s that, their mother told them firmly. You will enjoy it when you get there. You always do.

* * * * *

I’m not going, Lucy said again to Michael later when they were alone.

It will be all right, Michael said. We don’t have to go near them if we don’t want to.

You only want to go because you like Myra.

"I do not, Michael declared indignantly. I want to go because it’s good there. We can make sandcastles and volcanoes, catch shrimps, go fishing, go out places. We don’t do that at home."

Lucy did not look convinced, but she did not bother to argue.

I’m going out, she announced. I’m going to play with Tara.

Ask Mum first, advised Michael, turning his attention to the computer. There was a new computer game on the Internet he had just found, and he had also just realised that he would not be able to play it when they went to Aunt May’s cottage. Aunt May did not have a computer, and neither did she have an Internet connection.

Mum! Lucy shouted as loudly as she could, without bothering to find out where her mother was at that moment. Mum! I’m going out. OK?

Lucy started putting her shoes on.

I didn’t hear her answer, Michael told her, now staring intently at the computer screen. You’d better make sure she says it is OK.

You’re just deaf, Lucy informed him sarcastically. Anyone would have heard that. She said I was to be back by four.

She didn’t, Michael