Moving the mattress revealed metal legs attached to the feet, and beyond that, glimpses of the whole suit of armour. Ann felt better. She sprang with Hume up the mound again and dug frenziedly. An elder tree toppled. Sorry! Ann gasped at it. She knew you should be polite to elder trees. As it fell, the tree tore away a landslide of broken cups, tins and old paper, leaving a cave with a red-eyed suit of armour lying in it under what looked like a railway sleeper.
Yam! Hume yelled, sliding about in the rubbish above. Yam, are you all right?
Thank you. I am functional still, the suit of armour replied in a deep monotonous voice. Stand clear and I will be able to free myself now.
Ann retreated hastily. A robot! she thought. I dont believe this! Except that I do, somehow. Hume leapt down beside her, shaking with excitement. They watched the robot brace its silver arms on the railway sleeper and push. The timber swung sideways and the whole rubbish heap changed shape. The robot sat up among the elder trees. Very slowly, creaking and jangling rather, it got its silver legs under itself and stood up, swaying.
Thank you for releasing me, it said. I am only slightly damaged.
They threw you away! Hume said indignantly. He rushed up to the robot and took hold of its silvery hand.
They had no further use for me, Yam intoned. That was when they went away, in the year forty-two. I had completed the tasks they set me by then. He took a few uncertain steps forward, creaking and whirring. I am suffering from neglect and inaction.
Come with us, Hume said. Mordion can mend you.
He set off, leading the glistening robot tenderly towards the door they had come in by. Ann followed, reluctant with disbelief. What year forty-two? she wondered. It cant be this century, and I refuse to believe were a hundred years in the future. And Hume knows the robot! How?
Well, I know the date is 1993, she told herself, and she knew, of course, that there were no real robots then. It was hard to rid herself of the feeling that there must be someone human inside Yams unsteady silver shape. The paratypical field again, she thought. It was the only thing that would account for those elder trees growing above Yam and the way Hexwood Farm itself was so mysteriously in ruins.
With a sort of idea that she might catch the farmhouse turning back to its usual state, Ann looked over her shoulder at it. It happened to be the very moment when the decaying front door opened and a real man in armour came out, stretching and yawning like someone coming off duty. There was no doubt this one was human. Ann could see his bare hairy legs under the iron shinguards strapped to them. He wore a mail coat and a round iron helmet with a nosepiece down over his very human face. It made him look most unpleasant.
He turned and saw them.
Run, Hume! said Ann.
The armed man drew his sword and came leaping through the weeds towards them. Outlaws! he shouted. Filthy peasants!
Hume took one look and raced for the half-open door, dragging the lurching, swaying Yam behind him. Ann sprinted to catch up. As they reached the door in the wall, more men in armour came running out of the farmhouse. At least two of them had what seemed to be crossbows, and these two stood and aimed the things at Ann and Hume like wide heavy guns. Yams big silver hands came out, faster than Anns eyes could follow, closed on Humes arm and Anns, and more or less threw them one after the other round the door and into the snowball thicket. As Ann landed struggling among the bare twigs, she heard the two sharp clangs of the crossbow bolts hitting Yam. Then there was the sound of the door being dragged and slammed shut. Ann scrambled towards the open ground as hard as she could go.
Are you all right, Hume? she called as soon as she was there.
Hume came crawling out of the bushes at her feet,
looking very frightened. Behind him there were shouts and wooden banging as the armed men tried to get the door open again. Yam was surging through the thicket towards them, swaying and whirring. Twigs slapped his metal skin like a hailstorm on a tin roof.
Youre broken! Hume cried out.
Ann could hear the door in the wall beginning to scrape open. She seized Humes wrist in one hand and Yams cold, faintly whirring hand in the other, and dragged both of them away. Just run, she told Hume.
Mordion got off his rock hastily when Ann appeared, breathlessly dragging Hume and the lurching, damaged robot. He found it hard to make sense of what they were telling him. You went to the castle? Are they still chasing you? Ive no weapon!
Not exactly, Ann panted. It was Hexwood Farm in the future. Except the soldiers were like the Bayeux tapestry or something.
I told them, rattled Yam. His voicebox seemed to be badly damaged. Beyond trees. Soldiers. Me for. Afraid of Sir Artegal. Famous outlaw.
Mend him, mend him, Mordion! Hume pleaded.
So theyre not following? Mordion said anxiously.
I dont think so, said Ann, while Yam rattled, Inside. Me for. Famous knight. Cowards.