Butterfingers Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Title

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  NED

  SQUELCH

  THE BUNCH OF VIOLETS

  THE GOLDEN BALL

  THE SHADOW-CLOUD

  TREASURE

  NED'S ARMOUR

  MOOS AND MUD

  A POWERFUL PONG OF FISH

  "AIN'T EVEN GOT A PLAN"

  THE GREEN BOAT

  MOUSE

  A DARK WOOD

  A SONG

  THE MOUNTAIN CRAG

  ALONE!

  INSIDE THE DRAGON'S LAIR

  BONES!

  THE GOLDEN TREASURE CHAMBER

  THE ECHO

  A SWORD

  ANIMAL ARMY

  LANDSLIDE

  HOMEWARD

  SAFE

  BUTTERFINGERS

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  ISBN 9781407047522

  Version 1.0

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  BUTTERFINGERS

  A CORGI BOOK

  First published in Great Britain by David Fickling Books,

  a division of Random House Children's Books

  A Random House Group Company

  David Fickling Books edition published 2007

  Corgi edirion published 2008

  1 3 5 7 9 1 0 8 6 4 2

  Text copyright © Juliet Trewellard, 2007

  Illustrations copyright © Ian Beck, 2007

  The right of Juliet Trewellard and Ian Beck to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This electronic book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  ISBN: 9781407047522

  Version 1.0

  Designed by Ian Butterworth

  Corgi Books are published by Random House Children's Books,

  61-63 Uxbridge Road, London W5 5SA

  www.kidsatrandomhouse.co.uk

  www.rbooks.co.uk

  Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at: www.randomhouse.co.uk/offces.htm

  THE RANDOM HOUSE GROUP Limited Reg. No. 954009

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  For my sons,

  Joseph and Edward Trewellard,

  and with thanks to Zoe Allday.

  J.M. TREWELLARD

  NED

  ON A GREEN HILL STOOD A KING'S PALACE, SURROUNDED BY THE ROLLING HILLS, FIELDS AND WOODS WHICH WERE HIS KINGDOM. Inside the palace lived the king with his daughter, the lovely Princess Bella. Her beauty delighted all who set eyes on her. Outside there were large formal gardens with knot-hedges and herbs and roses of all kinds. There were tree-lined walks and arches and mazes. There were small secret gardens with seats and arbours. The towers of the palace reached high up into the sky.

  Today it was clear and very blue. There was nothing in it but a few fluffy clouds, until suddenly several large black and white birds appeared, calling harshly to each other. They were magpies. They flew steadily over the king's land, looking down on the neat meadows and moats that surrounded the palace.

  The birds soared over the courtyard, the gardens and the stables – a long stone building with rows of neat, wide stalls for the king's fine horses. One magpie soared lower, spying the tiny figure of a stableboy.

  The boy's name was Ned. He was the youngest of the stableboys. He hadn't realized he could be seen, for he was sitting in his favourite place of all – the top of a tall elm tree. This was where he hid when he wanted to catch a glimpse of the princess in her secret garden. But he hadn't accounted for the sharp eyes of the magpies.

  Magpies – most annoying birds, thought Ned, with their big wings and sharp beaks.

  Always interfering in other peoples business, always making trouble. Nosy and greedy: their beady eyes were always looking out for precious objects which they could take back to their nests as trophies. Nothing bright or shiny was safe when a magpie was around.

  "Cack-cack-cack, Clumsy!" Ned jumped and almost toppled from the tree. "I know you, Butterfingers. Skiving again!" cackled the magpie and swooped a little lower.

  "Go away, Magpie," said Ned.

  Cack-cack-cack, you'll never amount to anything, Butterfingers."

  "Be quiet, Magpie," called up Ned, "and don't call me that name."

  But the magpie merely laughed and flapped his wings, soaring up to join the other birds. As he flew, he eyed the martins, which flew in and out of their nests under the eaves of the stables.

  "You keep away from those martins' nests," called Ned to the big bird. "I've seen you steal their eggs. You're a thief!"

  "Quiet, boy. Get back to dreaming," called the others.

  "Cack-cack-Cack!" laughed the magpies, their wings flapping. "Nothing for you, boy, but work and dreams, work and dreams." And they flew off.

  "Look sharp, lad!" barked Tuff. "Dreaming again! Back to work, boy, for goodness' sake! Don't want old grumble-guts, Mr Squelch, after you!"

  Tuff was Ned's little dog. Now he stood at the bottom of the tree, yapping and looking cross. Ned lost his footing on the last branch and slid to the ground in a rush.

  "I don't know, boy," Tuff said. "What am I to do with you? When will you ever learn? I thought you'd get a little less clumsy as you grew older, but bless me, the longer your legs are, the more you trip over them. And what have you been up to? Spying on the princess?"

  "I wasn't spying," said Ned, getting up. "Just trying to find a bit of peace and quiet."

  "No chance of that, lad, if you annoy the stable master!"

  Ned ignored his little dog. He was used to him grumbling on. Tuff had been with Ned since he was a pup. He was a grumbly sort of dog even then, but they were used to each other.

  Ned hurried off to his work in the stables. As usual, there was a lot to do.

  "That's my good boy," came the soft voice of Dilly, the pony who was stabled in the far corner. 'Back to work." Dilly was not much good for anything but pulling carts, but Ned loved her. He slept on the straw by her stall at night. Tuff slept with him, curled up at his side, or sometimes on his tummy – until he got too heavy and Ned pushed him off. Tuff, the brown and white terrier, and Dilly, the little bay mare – these were Ned's only friends. He looked after them – or was it the other way round? Dilly thought him wonderful. Didn't he bring her extra rations? Wasn't he always kind to her? He was her boy, he was. "My Ned," she'd say, "is a good, kind boy. And good, kind boys get their rewards eventually. And my Ned will, you mark my words."

  SQUELCH

  SQUELCH, THE STABLE MASTER, WAS SHOUTING AS USUAL. He had a lot of work to do, for all the knights had been at a tournament and had brought their horses back hot and dirty. The grooms were running back and forth, trying not to upset Squelch. It didn't take much. He was sitting on a bench in the yard, scowling and wiping his red face with a handkerchief, tired from all his yelling. His large stomach hung over his belt and he looked out of breath. Now he spotted Ned. "Go
and get my dinner, boy, and don't take all day about it!" he shouted.

  Ned headed for the kitchen, dawdling as he went. It seemed sensible to walk slowly, for all around him were knights clanking about in their armour, or grooms running to take horses from them. He sidled around the edge of the yard, keeping out of everyone's way. Above him, chattering maids were shaking sheets out of windows. Three chickens scuttled across in front of him, squawking loudly, and Ned nearly tripped over them! As he watched them pecking at the ground, he noticed clumps of violets growing there, bright purple against the stone. Ned leaned against the wall, enjoying the sun on his face. It was no good; he'd better get on.

  He went and hovered by the kitchen door. The cook, looking very large in her white apron, shook her spoon at him.

  "Late again, idle Ned. Here – get the tray and take this pie – it's hot from the oven – and that jug of ale to Mr Squelch double quick!"

  Ned picked up the tray carefully, left the kitchen by way of the herb garden and crossed to the courtyard. Tuff scowling, trotted up to him.

  "Hurry up, Ned! Don't make the stable master angry again!"

  "Out of my way, Tuff," said Ned. "This tray's heavy." Tuff ignored him, nipping at his heels. Ned held the tray carefully, one finger curled round the handle of the jug for extra safety. Then he heard the sound of laughter, bell-like, across the yard.

  Ned turned his head and saw, beyond the lawn, the princess with her maid. His tray wobbled.

  "Watch it, lad," said Tuff. "Hurry up!"

  Now a large shire horse was being led out of the yard by two grooms. The horse pranced about, its large feet coming dangerously close. Ned cleverly side-stepped to avoid them and carried on. But now he saw a flock of geese, honking and waddling across his path. Was there ever a busier day? Tuff was, as usual, almost under his feet. The tray tilted and the pie-dish slid to one side.

  "Who-ooa!" Ned quickly righted it and carried on.

  "For goodness' sake, lad," said Tuff.

  "I'm all right! Stop fussing and get out of my way."

  Ned walked as carefully as he could; he was nearly there. He concentrated hard, keeping an eye out for the chickens, which were still wandering about. As he watched a little yellow chick hurrying to catch up with its mother, he suddenly saw a pair of shiny pointed shoes and the edge of a white dress. His head came up quickly and his heart gave a thump. The princess was crossing his path, laughing with her maid! It was only for a moment, just a second – yet how close he was to her!

  She glanced at him, her blue eyes bright under very long lashes. She gave a little smile and then she was gone, hurrying towards the stables, still laughing.

  Ned stopped dead, suddenly breathless, and turned his head to watch her. Tuff, hurrying after him, scuttled between his feet.

  "Oh, Tuff! Get away!" said Ned. But – bang! – he bumped into a corner of the wall. As if with a will of its own, the tray tipped: the ale seemed to jump out of the jug and onto Ned's clothes, and the pie slithered out of its dish and down Ned's skinny legs, breaking up as it went and spilling gravy all over Ned's feet and the ground.

  Mr Squelch, who had been watching the progress of his pie and ale as they crossed the courtyard, now got heavily to his feet and made his way over.

  Whack! He cuffed Ned across the head.

  "You stupid butterfingers! Look what you've done! Careless, clumsy oaf! Go back to the kitchen and get me another dinner – quick!"

  "Sorry, Mr Squelch." Ned, slipping in the gravy as he went, picked up the tray and the pie-dish; the jug was broken.

  "I said quick!" yelled Squelch.

  Ned ran back to the kitchen. Tuff ashamed, slunk after him.

  The cook took one look at Ned, covered in ale and gravy, and whacked him once round the face with her dishcloth, and once on the head with her wooden spoon. Watching from the doorway, Tuff winced in sympathy.

  "Butterfingers!" screamed Cook. "Idle, clumsy boy! Can't concentrate on a thing! Can't do the simplest job without making a mess! Look at my jug – broken! Look at my pie – ruined!"

  Ned sighed. He turned once more to look for the princess but she had long gone. He turned back to Tuff. "Please don't call me Butterfingers," was all he said.

  Later, from the stables, Ned heard Sir Pevner, one of the king's knights, shouting out. Of all the king's knights, he was the bravest and the strongest. Ned gazed at him in admiration as he came striding across the courtyard, clanking in his suit of chain mail. He had piercing blue eyes and long dark hair. He had broad shoulders and he was very tall. He seemed to tower over Ned. 'Fetch me my sword from the arms room," he said. 'I'm off for a spot of sword practice."

  "Yes, sir," said Ned and ran across the stable yard to the arms room, which was full of pieces of armour, bright helmets with plumes, spears and sharp, shiny swords. Ned would have liked to try on a helmet and buckle on a sword but Sir Pevner was waiting.

  A boy with ginger hair handed the sword to him. "You take care of this, Butterfingers," he said, grinning. "It's sharp, you know. Don't want to cut yourself, do you?"

  Ned didn't say anything, but Tuff growled menacingly at the boy as his master grabbed the heavy sword and ran out.

  Ned held the sword firmly in his hand. How the sun glinted on it. Swish, swish – he practised sword thrusts as he crossed the yard. He made imaginary stabs. He parried. He wished he was a knight. The sword felt heavy in his skinny arm, but he felt brave and strong. That was what mattered. He stood a little taller and held it firmly.

  "Bring it here, boy," called Sir Pevner. Ned jumped guiltily and the sword clattered to the ground. "Swords aren't to be mucked about with, lad. It's not a toy, you know."

  Ned reddened and ran forward to give the knight his sword. Sir Pevner strode off. Ned sighed. He wondered if he would ever be that important.

  As he strolled slowly back towards the stables, followed, as usual, by Tuff the violets he'd spotted earlier caught his eye again. On impulse he bent down and picked some.

  "What you doing now, boy?" asked Tuff.

  "Look at these violets. Aren't they an amazing colour? When I'm a knight, I'll have a rich violet shield."

  "Hmmph!" grunted Tuff scornfully. "A flower-picking knight?!"

  "Very pretty, dear," said Dilly, who had come out to meet them.

  "Don't you encourage him, you old mare," snapped Tuff.

  Ned sighed and stuffed the bunch of violets in his hat.

  "He's at that age," Dilly told Tuff.

  THE BUNCH OF VIOLETS

  NED WAS BUSY FILLING A NOSEBAG WITH OATS WHEN HE HEARD A COMMOTION OUT IN THE COURTYARD. It was the Princess Bella!

  She had come to ride her horse. How lovely she looked, standing in the sunshine with her maid, somehow shining and bright and – like a flower, thought Ned.

  Squelch hurried forward, concerned. The princess usually only rode in the exercise yard with her riding master.

  "What an honour, m'lady!" he said. "But where is your riding master? The king gave orders—"

  "Hmmph!" said Tuff again. "My goodness, boy. Don't know which is worse – playing at being a knight, or picking flowers. Flowers! You're as daft as a brush!"

  Bella held her head high. "I've decided to go for a ride. Saddle my horse quickly please."

  Squelch's face assumed a smiling grimace and he bowed deeply, his large stomach pushing against his legs. Ned heard Bella and her maid giggle as they turned their faces away.

  Squelch bellowed at Ned, "Quick, boy!" but Ned was gazing at the princess.

  "Loafer!" screamed the stable master. "Move! Saddle! Princess waiting! Double quick!"

  Ned blinked and then hurried into the stable to look for the saddle. He glanced back at the princess. The sunlight made her hair flash like gold. Now, where was the saddle? As he picked up a brown leather one, the little dog, Tuff, squeezed through under the half-door.

  "Not that one, stupid!" he hissed. "The silver one with the red tassels! Quick, Ned! Up there on the shelf! What would you do without
me, eh?"

  Ned ran up the wooden ladder. It shook and swayed and then toppled. He reached out a hand to seize the saddle and promptly fell down with it on top of him.

  Squelch was making polite conversation with the princess.

  CRASH! came the sound of the ladder!

  "Ooo!"

  came the groan of Ned.

  "Butterfingers!" muttered Master Squelch furiously under his breath.

  "Get up quick, you great lummox! The saddle!" Tuff yapped urgently.

  Really, Ned felt he could do nothing right today. He saw the princess waiting. On an impulse he took the bunch of violets out of his hat and fastened them to the pommel of the heavy saddle. As he ran back, Tuff woofed, "Stand straight, boy! Meeting royalty, you know! Keep your head!"

  "Get that dog out of the way!" rapped out the stable master. "And hurry up, boy!"

  Ned hurried. The sun reflected off the silver edges of the saddle. Suddenly he heard a loud cackle and the magpies flew down towards the glinting silver.

  "Not you again," said Ned under his breath. "Go away."

  "Cack-cack-cack," went the magpies, hopping nearer, drawn to the gleaming saddle. One cocked his head to one side and looked up, spying the bright necklace around the princess's throat.

  Ned heaved the silver saddle onto the princess's horse.

  "Not that way, boy – oh, give it here!" snapped the stable master. He took it from Ned, turned it round and fastened it himself, crushing the violets as he did so.

  "Get!" he said, half under his breath, jerking his head in the direction of the stables. He aimed a sharp kick at Ned, who started to scuttle off.

  "Boy," came a voice. Ned turned and saw that the princess was looking at him.

  "Thank you very much. I like violets," she said, staring at him with her forget-me-not blue eyes and giving him a big smile. What could he do but smile back?

  Bella carefully took the half-crushed bunch of violets and tucked them into her belt. "Thank you," she said again. Then, with a little spring, she mounted her horse and grinned down at her maid. "Really, why can't they let me wear breeches?" she said in an undertone. "Then see how fast I could ride."