Sebastian Darke: Prince of Pirates (7 page)

Immediately he broke into a trot and the caravan bounced forward on its heavy wheels. Sebastian slapped the reins against the buffalope's haunches and Max put his head down and picked up the pace, moving rapidly into a canter, and then a full gallop. It wasn't a great idea on this rough dirt track. The caravan bucked and shuddered across the uneven ground and Sebastian and Cornelius had to hang on for dear life. But at last they were covering the ground at a good speed.

'How much further before we're out of these ruddy woods?' shouted Max.

'Your guess is as good as mine,' Sebastian yelled back.

The caravan thundered down an incline and then hit a level stretch. Sebastian told himself that they should be all right, just so long as the ancient caravan didn't shake itself to pieces. He glanced at Cornelius, but the little warrior was peering back down the trail, and the expression on his face suggested that he didn't much like what he saw there.

'They're still following!' yelled Cornelius.

Sebastian risked taking his eyes off the track and ducked his head round the side of the caravan to look behind. As he watched, one of the big cats leaped down out of a tree. It didn't hesitate but came loping after the caravan in a fluid, seemingly effortless motion, its long tail stretched out behind it, its massive paws eerily silent on the forest floor.

'It's gaining on us!' shouted Sebastian.

'I noticed.' Cornelius gripped the side of his seat and swung himself out to take aim, one-handed, with the miniature crossbow; but the caravan was shuddering and bouncing so much, it was impossible to get in a decent shot. Moreover, the cat seemed to realize what was happening, because it immediately swung to Sebastian's side of the wagon, shielding itself from Cornelius's view.

'Drat the thing!' Cornelius abandoned that idea and started to clamber up onto the roof.

'What are you doing?' yelled Sebastian. A low-hanging bush swept at him and he was obliged to duck beneath it. It glanced off the back of Cornelius's helmet, almost knocking him from his perch. He shrugged his shoulders and continued to pull himself up.

'I'm trying to . . . get a better view,' he gasped. He was just easing one knee up onto the flat roof when a front wheel thudded into a pothole and the caravan bucked wildly. Cornelius lost his grip and started to slide. Sebastian reached out and grabbed his friend's sword belt just as he was about to fall. He hung in mid-air for a moment, his little legs kicking, but he refused to let go of the crossbow. After a few moments he managed to pull himself, one-handed, back onto the seat.

'You all right?' asked Sebastian.

'I'm fine but—'

They heard a crash from the back of the caravan as something thudded heavily into the jumble of equipment. Sebastian and Cornelius exchanged horrified looks, realizing what must have happened. The panther had somehow managed to scramble up the steps at the back and get in through the open window. It was in there now, crashing around the crowded interior.

'Right,' said Cornelius. 'I'll settle this.' He started to pull back the heavy drape that covered the doorway behind them, but as he did so, something came leaping out from within, tearing down the curtain and smashing headlong into Cornelius, tipping him backwards. The crossbow went spinning out of his grasp and he fell, crashing onto Max's swaying rump. The panther, still entangled in the curtain, came down on top of him with a terrible roar. Sebastian looked down helplessly. He desperately tried to pull Max to a halt but the buffalope was so terrified by the sensation of two figures fighting on his back, he wouldn't slow his pace, and the caravan raced on along the narrow track.

Cornelius was in danger of slipping sideways off Max and being trampled by the wheels, but he managed to cling on somehow, gripping the harness while using his feet to try to fend off the cat, which was still struggling to escape from the curtain, its claws shredding the heavy fabric.

At first Sebastian sat there in a sheer funk, not knowing what to do. Then, realizing he had to do something, he abandoned the reins and clambered through the doorway into the swaying, rattling interior of the caravan. He started searching frantically for a weapon.

He saw a longbow hanging on the wall but realized that he couldn't use that for fear of hitting Cornelius or Max. Then his gaze fell on a long coil of rope and, unwilling to waste any more time, he grabbed it and clumsily fashioned the end into a noose. He stumbled back through the doorway and saw that Cornelius was still spread-eagled across Max's back. The panther was virtually free of the curtain now, and the

Golmiran was desperately trying to fend off its teeth and claws which, had it not been for the protection of his breastplate and chain-mail jerkin, would have ripped into his flesh by now.

Sebastian started twirling the rope above his head to try and generate some momentum. 'Get its head up!' he yelled, and Cornelius must have heard him, because he did his best to comply. He got his little legs in under the cat's chest and began to push with all his strength, raising the beast's torso and great snarling head. Sebastian flung the rope and, more by good fortune than good aim, the noose dropped around the panther's neck.

Now Sebastian braced himself and pulled with all his might. The cat's guttural sounds turned abruptly to a shriek of alarm as it was yanked backwards, and it began to lose its grip. It made a desperate attempt to bury its claws in Max's haunches, causing bellows of pain from the buffalope. Sebastian jerked with all his strength, and the big cat slipped and fell, tumbling under the caravan. There was a terrible crunch as the wheels passed over its body, and then it was gone in a flurry of dust, the rope paying out behind it. At the last moment Sebastian remembered to let go.

He looked towards Cornelius and was rewarded with a grim thumbs-up from the little warrior. Reassured, he took up the reins again and began to heave on them. This time, freed from the terror of having a cat's claws locked into his flesh, Max reacted and began to slow his pace. He dropped back to a canter, a trot, a walk, and then finally came to a halt, his great head lowered, his breath snorting from his nostrils in loud gasps.

Sebastian jumped down from the caravan and ran to Cornelius, who was scratched and bloodied but seemed to have escaped serious injury.

'Are you all right?' Sebastian asked him.

Cornelius grimaced. 'I lost my crossbow back there,' he complained.

'Never mind about that. The main thing is that you're not badly hurt. Max, what about you?'

Max was still fighting to recover his breath. 'For somebody . . . who's just had a panther . . . and a Golmiran . . . fighting to the death on his backside . . . I'm in surprisingly good shape,' he panted.

Cornelius jumped down off Max's haunches. 'What about the other cat?' he wanted to know. He and Sebastian walked round the side of the wagon to look back along the trail. A crumpled shape was lying in the dust a good distance away, but from where they were standing it didn't look anything like a panther.

'Shadlog's beard!' muttered Cornelius. He drew his sword from its scabbard and began to walk back along the trail. Sebastian followed, drawing his own sword. First they came to the end of the long length of rope; they followed it to find that the noose was looped around the neck of a dead man. He lay face down, naked and bloodied. Cornelius knelt beside the body and turned the head round to reveal the face.

'Adam!' whispered Sebastian. 'But . . . how can that be? It was a panther I roped – we both saw it.'

'A changeling,' said Cornelius. 'A shape-shifter. I've heard people speak of their existence but I've never seen one till now.' He thought for a moment. 'That's how they were able to escape through that narrow gap in the cave!'

'
They?
You mean—'

A deep rumbling growl snapped Sebastian's gaze back up to the tree line. The second panther, a female, was crouching there, staring at him intently with her malevolent yellow eyes. Oddly familiar eyes, Sebastian thought, and a cold chill ran through him. As he watched, the panther began to change her shape. Her body reared upwards, her fur receded, her paws melted and elongated into fingers, and almost faster than his eye could follow, the cat was a naked woman and it was Leonora who stood there, glaring at him with cold hatred in her eyes.

'You killed my brother,' she snarled.

'It . . . it was an accident,' said Sebastian. 'Well, no, it wasn't an accident, obviously, but I thought he was a panther. Well, he
was
a panther! And he was attacking my friend! Er . . . look, do you know you haven't got any clothes on?'

She said nothing for a moment, just stood there glowering at him in silent accusation. Then she raised an arm to point a finger at him. 'I curse you, Sebastian Darke,' she said.

'Oh no, don't do that! There's really no need to—'

'I curse you and your friends. You will find what you seek but it shall never be yours. Never! And you shall see me again. This I swear!'

'Look, can't we just talk about this?' Sebastian spread his arms in a gesture of helplessness. 'Adam shouldn't have attacked us like that. We—'

But now Leonora was muttering some strange, incomprehensible language and waving her hands in front of her, as though plucking invisible objects out of the air.

'Right,' said Cornelius. 'I've had about enough of this.'

He leaped to his feet and, lifting his sword above his head, raced towards Leonora, bellowing as he ran. But as he brought back his sword to strike her, there was a sudden flash of brilliant light, so intense that he and Sebastian had to cover their eyes with their hands. And when they could see again, Leonora was gone. She seemed to have vanished.

Sebastian stared at Cornelius. 'What happened to her?' he gasped.

'Who cares?' said the little warrior. 'Let's get out of here.'

Sebastian pointed to Adam's body. 'What about him?'

'Leave him here. Let
her
take care of him, since she's so upset.' Cornelius saw the look of dismay on Sebastian's face and slapped him on the hip. 'Don't torment yourself, lad – you were only doing what any of us would have done. You didn't know it was him.'