Jack kept the six kids, temporarily under his charge, busy with myths and legends about ravens of the tower. This kept them off the grass.
That’s it guys. Jack had told as many as he knew.
Tell us some more. Little Martha pulled at his hand with a twinkle in her eyes.
Yes tell us more, tell us more. All of them shouted in unison.
Jack thought ……..
Let’s go and pluck the grass. The hyperactive little Bantu proposed.
OK guys, just a last one and then we leave.
You know a magical raven’s feather will grant you a wish. Jack fibbed.
Is this a magical raven? Little Martha quipped.
All the ravens that live here are magical.
Let us go and pluck one from the raven there. Bantu was ready to dart.
The guards will put all of you in the dungeon. Come, your Dad would be waiting for you outside.
They walked back. Suddenly a black object drifted down and settled on Martha’s red ribbon.
Look, look ……. Julie giggled.
Jack plucked and found it to be a dirty feather. He wondered what to do with it. The afternoon had been hectic and he wished the children would disappear so that he could go to his pub.
He looked around and found himself all alone.