Chapter Two

The stranger reached the bottom of the road and made his way through the town. A more ramshackle place, he could not imagine. Most of the buildings were made of wood with crumbling brickwork supporting some of the heavier structures. Washing hung from windows, some of it strewn across lines that stretched over the streets. Children ran up to him and his horse and sniffed them both as they passed, running back to their mothers at the scent of the strange smell. When he reached the Boggle Head pub, he tethered Onyx to a post outside and made his way inside the establishment. He opened the door, which hung gingerly on its hinges and looked around. All the patrons of the pub had stopped talking and turned their heads to look at the stranger. He walked slowly up to the bar, looking from side to side as he made his way. Despite the outwardly scruffy appearance of the locals, they all had gleaming white and perfect teeth. To the stranger, this came as no surprise. After all, as he said, he knew all about Cobbleknock. He leant on the bar and placed his hat on the counter. Henry Wolvenbum bounded towards him and showed his own set of perfect teeth.

"Good morning, sir," said Henry. "What can I do for you? A pint of our best grot, maybe?"

"I understand it to be a taste for a particular palette," said the stranger. "So, I am afraid I must decline."

"What about a hot meat pie? I guarantee you have never tasted anything like it before. We all eat so well in Cobbleknock," said Henry.

"Yes, I have heard that," said the stranger. "Again, I must decline. What I want is neither food or drink, it's information."

"Information?" asked Henry.

The stranger pulled back his coat and reached inside his inner pocket. The townsfolk in the car muttered to each other as the shotgun strapped to his side was revealed. The stranger produced a photograph and placed it on the bar. He looked at Henry who was staring at the weapon.

"It's for protection," said the stranger. "It's dangerous out there."

"We don't use blasty sticks much around here," said Henry. "No real need for them."

"This is a photograph of a man I am looking for. I understand he lives here," said the stranger. "Walter Badrattle?"

"Never heard of him," said Henry, shaking his head.

"You sure?" asked the stranger.

"Oh, yes," said Henry. "I know every man, woman and child that live here. I am afraid you appear to have wasted your time.

"We shall see," said the stranger, calmly.

He picked the photograph up and turned around to show it to the rest of the townsfolk.

"What about you good people? Do any of you know this man?" he asked.

They all shook their heads. Some of them came up to take a closer look at the photograph, before saying they had no idea who he was. When they had all returned to their seats and quietened down, the stranger placed the photograph back into his pocket. He looked at Henry and smiled.

"You know, it's strange that none of you recognises this person," said the stranger.

"Oh really? What makes you say that?" asked Henry.

"Because he is the son of this town's Chief Magistrate, said the stranger.

"Well, bugger me," said Henry, nervously reaching under the bar for a knife.

"I would not do that," said the stranger, still smiling at Henry.

As Henry pulled his hand away from the knife, the doors of the pub burst open and Benjamin Badrattle walked in, together with Snodberry and six other men. The stranger turned to face them and placed a hand on his shotgun.

"When people tell you that they do not know the person you are looking for, you should believe them," said Benjamin.

Benjamin Badrattle was almost as wide as he was tall. A lifetime of abuse of power, abuse of drink and abuse of food had left its mark on his body. He moved uneasily towards the stranger, wheezing as he did so.

"You want to hand your son over to me peacefully or do we have to resolve this by other means?" asked the stranger.

"My son?" asked Benjamin. "Ah, I get it. You have my son Wally confused with someone called Walter who just happens to have the same surname. An easy mistake to make. You should go now."

The stranger reached into his pocket, as the patrons in the bar ducked under the tables. He produced the photograph once again and showed it to Benjamin.

"Would your son happen to look a little like this boy?" asked the stranger.

"Well, jigger me, there is a certain similarity, but that boy would be a criminal. My boy is the son of the chief magistrate of Cobbleknock," said Benjamin.

"Well then that is going to cause us a big problem," said the stranger.

"And why would that be?" asked Benjamin.

"Because the boy I am looking for is the son of the chief magistrate of Cobbleknock," said the stranger.

Benjamin was clearly annoyed at being backed into a corner. He beckoned his men to come closer and pulled his face nearer to the stranger's face.

"Now I have given you the chance to walk away. I suggest you take it. What other course of action do you have?" asked Benjamin.

"Would you like a demonstration?" asked the stranger.

"I am getting tired of this. Have you a warrant from the King? I'm guessing you're one of those damn trackers," said Benjamin.

"No I'm not," said the stranger. "But I do have official documentation."

He produced an envelope and gave it to Benjamin. Benjamin opened it and read the letter inside.

"This isn't official for anything. You're a damn bounty hunter," said Benjamin.

"It's official enough for me. The promise of payment on the delivery of one Walter Badrattle," said the stranger.

"Who the hell are you anyway?" asked Benjamin.

"They call me Raven," said the stranger.

With that, half of the patrons ran out of the bar and the other half hit the floor. Even Benjamin was shaken by the revelation. Snodberry just stood there shaking. Raven looked Snodberry up and down and then looked back at Benjamin.

"I think your man there needs the toilet," said the Raven.

"Snodberry, stop being such a jiggery p***y," shouted Benjamin.

"They say he is half demon, half human," stuttered Snodberry.

"That's the biggest pile of bull," said Benjamin. "Even our friend here doesn't believe that."

"I'm not half demon, Shaky," said Raven, smiling at Snodberry.

"See, and he can't take on half the town either, can you?" asked Benjamin.

"No, and I have no intention of trying to either," said Raven.

"You do know you'll have to leave soon. I mean we have an element of control over ourselves when it's light, but when the sun goes down and the moon rises. It's best you're not here," said Benjamin.

"I'll be long gone before then," said Raven.

Raven moved away from the bar and looked out of the window towards the top of the valley. The sun was still high in the sky and his eye was caught by the shimmer of a flickering light at the edge of the town.

"In fact, I think I'll be taking my leave right now," said Raven. "I would like to take the opportunity to thank you for your hospitality. Enjoy the rest of the day."

"You too," shouted Benjamin to Raven as he headed out of the door. "And don't you be rushing back now."

“One moment,” Benjamin shouted to Raven.

Raven turned and looked at Benjamin.

“What will you tell the person who commissioned the bounty?” asked Benjamin.

“I will them that Walter Badrattle was not here. That’s the truth, after all,” said Raven.

Benjamin smiled and breathed a sigh of relief as Raven turned around and left the pub.

Raven untied Onyx and jumped into the saddle. He kicked his heels and rode off back up the road. This time though he did not just trot up the hill, this time he and Onyx raced away from the town. The whole of the town breathed a huge sigh of relief as Raven left, and they all piled into the pub.

"Drinks are on me, Henry," shouted Benjamin. "Did you see how fast that so called big bad bounty hunter ran?"

Snodberry drank his grot with a still shaking hand. Henry placed a hand on Snodberry's shoulder.

"It's okay, Snodberry," said Henry. "He's gone now. Cookawakka will ring the bell for the all clear in a second, you'll see."

"I know, but people say Raven never leave without his man," said Snodberry. "Does not make sense to Snodberry."

Just as he finished the sentence, the bell started to ring.

"See," said Henry.

Snodberry finished his drink, and frightened as he was, decided to go back up to the lookout and check on his friend, Cookawakka. When he reached the top of the hill, Cookawakka was boiling the kettle to make a jar of warm grot. He looked around and smiled as Snodberry entered the lookout.

"Really gone?" asked Snodberry.

"Yeah, went racing past like a herd of gozobeasts were chasing him," said Cookawakka. "Benjamin must have scared the hairs off him."

Snodberry looked outside to make sure that Raven had not turned full circle and was hurtling back towards them, before making his own jar of grot.