Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Author’s Note
About the Author
Also by Kate Thompson
Copyright
About the Book
Where has the sleek, beautiful horse come from? Why have his golden chains been passed to Marcus? Suddenly, Marcus is in grave danger . . .
By the winner of the 2005 Whitbread Children’s Book of the Year Award and the 2005 Guardian Children’s Fiction Prize.
About the Author
Kate Thompson is one of the most exciting authors writing for young people today for she is a born storyteller, highly original and thought provoking in her ideas. She has travelled widely in the USA and India and studied law in London. After living in County Clare, she moved to Kinvara in County Galway and it was there that she discovered her passion for playing the fiddle. She is now an accomplished player and also has a great interest in restoring instruments.
Kate is the only author to win the Children’s Books Ireland Bisto Book of the Year award four times – in 2002 for The Beguilers, in 2003 for The Alchemist’s Apprentice, in 2004 for Annan Water and in 2006 for The New Policeman.
The New Policeman also won the Guardian Children’s Fiction Prize 2005, the Whitbread Book Award Children’s category 2005, the Children’s Book of the Year in the Irish Book Awards in March 2006 and has been longlisted for the Carnegie Medal. In March 2008 another of Kate’s books, The Last of the High Kings, was shortlisted for the 2008 Children’s Books Ireland Bisto Award, and Creature of the Night was longlisted for the 2008 Booktrust Teenage Prize.
WANTED!
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 407 04864 2
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Random House Group Company
This ebook edition published 2012
Copyright © Kate Thompson, 2012
Illustrations copyright © Jonny Duddle, 2012
First Published in Great Britain
Bodley Head 2012
The right of Kate Thompson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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 unauthorized 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.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
CHAPTER ONE
IT WAS EARLY afternoon on a cold February day. I had just finished my deliveries and was making my way home across the city with my handcart. The streets were quiet, as they usually were at that time of day, so I had no trouble hearing the horse when it came trotting up behind me, and I moved aside with my cart to let it pass.
But it didn’t. The young man who was leading it stopped beside me, and when I turned to look at him I was astonished by what I saw. He was a slave, and I might have been struck by how well-dressed he was if I hadn’t noticed that the horse was dressed even better. It wore a blanket of royal purple and its head collar was decorated with precious stones which sparkled in rainbow colours. Its lead rope was a chain of solid gold. I stood with my mouth open, astonished. I ought to have known immediately what horse this was, for everyone in the city knew about Incitatus, but sometimes my mind doesn’t work very quickly, and especially when it comes up against the impossible.
‘There is a rumour going round,’ the slave boy said. ‘Terrible news.’
He was panting hard and gasping out the words, and he had a strong English accent as well, so it wasn’t easy for me to understand what he was saying.
‘News?’ I said.
‘But it can’t be true,’ he said. ‘I have to go and find out.’
‘Find out what?’ I said.
‘Here,’ he said, thrusting the golden chain into my hand. ‘Take care of him. I’ll find out the truth and come straight back.’
And before I could object he was gone, running down the street the way he had come. The nerve of him! A slave, telling me what to do! I couldn’t hold his horse for him, no matter how smartly it was dressed. I called out after him, but if he heard me he paid no attention. At the end of the street he hesitated and looked up and down. Then he slipped round the corner and was gone.
My brother needed the handcart to collect flour from the mill, and I had to get home. If I was late I would be in serious trouble. I had been out on my round since before dawn, and I needed to get something to eat and go to bed for a few hours, because my whole family had to work through the night to have fresh bread ready for the morning. On a good day, I got about five hours’ sleep in the evening. On a good day, my mother and father got three.
I