Wanderwood is a moated stone manor house, of chiefly Tudor vintage, built around a Norman tower standing on the foundations of a Saxon tower, which in turn covered the remains of a Roman outpost on the River Wylye. The Norman tower forms the entrance to the quadrangular mansion, and features a working drawbridge, sturdy enough to drive lorries across, which Robin crossed gratefully; slamming the small door in the larger double-doors filling the arch and leaning against it as if he were being pursued, he closed his eyes and tried laughing himself out of the strange fear he still felt.
"Moron, getting lost in your own woods," he chuckled aloud, resorting to the old schoolboy trick of shaming the fear out, "You'll be wetting the bed next."
The minor shame covered the fear rather than dispelling it, but it was an infinitely more comfortable emotion, so Robin enlarged on it as he crossed the courtyard to the east wing: worrying over how much time he'd wasted being lost, he wouldn't be able to sit down and eat his lunch in comfort before the minicab came to take him to Salisbury; alternatives spun around in his mind, grabbing some bread and cheese and eating it on the way, or getting something from the snack bar in the station or on the train, none of which would be as satisfying as the chop and salad with a nice glass of white he'd intended.
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"There you are, my lord," Mrs. Ricks looked up from the her worktable in the ancient
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258 Words
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