The Heir of Mistmantle (31 page)

He stepped forward. All eyes gazed at him.

“Good creatures,” he said more slowly, “I know what the island’s greatest enemy is, and it moves among us. It has been among us all this time, setting paw against paw, mind against mind, heart against the Heart, as Brother Fir warned. It is the child of ignorance. Its name…”

He paused. The silence was tight with waiting.

“Its name is fear,” he said. “Fear! I don’t mean the healthy fear that makes you careful, but the overwhelming fear that cripples you! Dearest animals, don’t plot and whisper about each other. Fill your lives with the enemies of fear! Take love, take hope, take friendship, take music, take laughter, support one another. The Heart has no room for fear!”

There was a brief pause, then the younger animals decided they should applaud, and did, and everyone did, more and more, in a wave of cheering, clapping, and stamping. A breath of wind drifted across the rock, and it was as if that light wind lifted the gloom, the discontent, and the spoken name of fear, and swept it away to sea. The air felt clean.

Crispin held up his paw for silence.

“Now,” he said. “If you have questions to ask, come and ask me, or one of the captains. Presently, food will be brought from the tower kitchens so nobody goes home hungry.” He turned, scanning the small group of animals behind him. “Where’s Juniper?”

“He asked permission to be absent, Your Majesty,” said Padra.

“Then I’ll give the blessing myself,” said Crispin, and raised a paw. “The Heart bless and keep each one of you as you go, as you lie down tonight, and as you rise in the morning.”

Some of the animals who lived nearby were wrapping themselves in their cloaks and going home, but most stayed for the warm drinks and food being carried down in carts from the tower. They drifted into little knots and sat down together, chatting and eating and reassuring each other that of course the king was right, or at least, they hoped he was, and how could anybody be unkind about the queen, poor dear? Padra, watching for anyone who wanted to approach the king but might be too shy or uncertain, decided it was time to have a word with Crispin about Juniper, Urchin, and Needle, when a loud, urgent cry of, “Your Majesty!” made all the animals on the high rock turn and be silent. The crowd, too, picked up the silence, put down their bread and beakers and turned to look.

Running from the tower, breathless and dirty, came Urchin. Dust and soil clung to his fur, cobwebs hung from his ears, and blood was on his paws, but in his eyes there was a strength and depth that Crispin had not seen there before. Paws reached out to haul him onto the rock.

“Your Majesty,” he gasped, “Needle needs help, and Juniper is with her. And, Your Majesty, nobody need ever question again whether Husk is alive. Juniper has found him. He lies where he fell, broken, with his sword and circlet. I have seen him, Your Majesty. I have been there.”

It took very little time for Urchin to explain the situation to Crispin and the captains and for them to assemble a rescue party and send for ropes, slings, and lanterns. While they were doing that, Arran raised the question as to whether other animals should be allowed to go down.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Lugg. “There’s plenty would be glad of the chance to make sure he’s good and proper dead. If they’ve got the guts to go down there, that is.”

“Yes,” said Crispin, “but we don’t want animals going down just out of curiosity, to have a good look. He’s not something to gawp at for entertainment.”

“I think the prospect of going down to the bottom of the pit will be enough to put most of them off,” said Padra. “But some of them should go. It’s not enough for the captains to go down there and say, yes, we’ve seen him dead. The doubters and worriers should see for themselves.”

“Then I’ll get the species to choose a representative each,” said Crispin. “They can go down in the morning, but they have to be chosen tonight and set to guard the entrances to the place. That way, nobody can claim that the evidence has been tampered with. Two of each would be best. Docken, Russet, Heath, sort them out, please. Now, are we ready? Has anyone found Needle’s parents? Urchin, lead the way.”

“Well done, Crispin!” said Padra. “That was the work of a real king.”

“If you say so,” murmured Crispin. “It’s marvelous what we can do together—stop landslides, fight off plague, quell rebellion—those three have even found Husk. But between us we can’t even find one wild-witted squirrel and my daughter.” He lifted his head and raised his voice. “Ready, everyone? Forward!”

When the rescue party had gone, Sepia and Scatter sat on their paws on a landing in the tower. There was nothing they could do to help with the rescue of Needle and Juniper, nothing but wait until they were brought out, and they had decided to do that here, in the quietness of the tower as twilight grew. It was good to be away at last from the bustle of animals scurrying about outside, and Sepia felt she needed time to be quiet and think about Damson. So she sat on the stairs watching the sky behind the window turn dim with twilight, holding Urchin, Juniper, and Needle before the Heart, because sometimes her friends seemed too heavy for her own heart to carry. They had been away for such a long time, or perhaps it just seemed like that. Then Scatter, who was getting bored but didn’t like to say so, said, “Shall we go and see if Brother Fir is all right?”

“Oh, yes,” said Sepia. “We ought to see if he needs anything.” They pattered up the stairs to the turret, tapped at the door, and waited to be called in—but when they stepped into the chamber they both curtsied, because the queen, thinner than ever, sat at Brother Fir’s side.

“Your Majesty!” they said.

“Well, what excellent company,” said Fir, and though his voice was frail he seemed to Sepia to be more like his old self. His deep eyes twinkled. “Three of the finest young animals on the island, all at once. I must be a dangerous old scoundrel, you know, if it takes three of you to keep me out of mischief.”

“We came to see if you needed anything, Brother Fir,” said Scatter.

“That was most kind of you,” said Brother Fir. “As you see, I am finally out of bed, and the queen herself made up cordials for me. But I shall go back to bed soon. Sepia, Scatter, my dears, would you be most kind and close my window?”

Glad to have something to do, Sepia scurried across the floor to fasten the window. In spite of the gray fingers of fog coming in with the tide, it was turning into a beautiful evening. The sky was gray-violet now, with a few stars and a track of moonlight reflected across the rippling sea.

Something was moving on the water. It must be a boat from the other side of the island or one of the otter patrol. But, as she narrowed her eyes, she could see it wasn’t an otter rowing it…it could be…

“Please, Your Majesty,” she said, “come and look at this.”

Then Cedar, Scatter, and Sepia were leaping down the stairs, calling for the guards, the messengers, and Crispin.

At the top of the underground cliff, Crispin, Padra, Lugg, and the other chosen animals stood surrounded by lanterns and candles. It seemed so much safer to Urchin, now that all the others were there, and there was more light. With a long rope tied to Docken’s waist, and the strongest of the animals lined up in front of him all holding firmly on to it, a sling was lowered over the edge of the cliff. There were a few muffled squeaks and a clanking of buckles, then Juniper’s voice came echoing from far beneath them.

“Haul her up gently,” he said. “She’s hurt.”

“Ready!” called Docken. Presently, Needle’s taut, brave face appeared over the edge of the cliff, and in a few seconds Crispin had lifted her clear of the sling.

“Lower it for Juniper,” he ordered. “Needle, how are you feeling?”

“It hurts,” said Needle. Her voice wasn’t very strong, but she tried to smile. “I’ll be all right. Hello, Urchin.”

“Take her back up to the top, Urchin,” Crispin ordered, “to your own chamber at the Spring Gate. Lugg, they’ll need help. Can you carry her between you?”

“How heavy do you think I am?” demanded Needle weakly. Crispin left Urchin and Needle exchanging stories as she was carried away, while he looked over the cliff edge as Juniper was hauled up. He was dirty, bloodstained, and trying not to shiver, but on his face was a calmness that nobody who saw it ever forgot. He looked, they thought afterward, like Brother Fir. Crispin looked gravely into Juniper’s face.

“Well done, Juniper,” he said. “Well done. Are you all right?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Juniper, and knew that he should explain to Crispin why he’d done what he’d done, and he supposed he should apologize because it was his fault that Needle was hurt—but somehow he couldn’t find the words. And Crispin said nothing to question or to blame him, but just held him by the shoulders and said, “Is it all over now?”

“I didn’t just do it for me,” said Juniper. “It was for the island. And for you. There was a prophecy.”

“I understand,” said Crispin, and took off his cloak. “Put that on, you’re frozen. Now, I want to go down there and see for myself. Don’t bother with the sling. If those two can manage a jump like that, so can I.”

He took a step or two back to prepare for the leap. But before he could move farther, there was a racing of paws toward them, and Longpaw flew through the doorway.

“Your Majesty!” he cried. “Catkin! Linty, in a boat, heading for the mists!”

The wind was rising as Sepia ran around the shore and scampered onto a high rock to give herself the best possible overall view. Animals were clustered on the shore around Arran who was giving instructions, holding back those who were determined to swim out or already hauling their boats down to the water.

“If she’s desperate enough to row for the mists, she’s desperate enough for anything,” called Arran. “She’s rowing a heavy boat against the tide, which should slow her down. The queen has given orders, all the way through this, that we mustn’t make Linty panic. Still, I’ll see if she’ll listen to me.” She took off her circlet and passed it to a small otter called Skye. “Hang on to that for me, please. I’ll go alone, or she may take fright. Have two or three boats ready, but don’t do anything until you have orders from the king or Padra.” And she launched herself into the water.

Sepia stayed where she was, hugging her cloak about her against the chill, watching for every squirrel and every mole who ran across the shore. She had to think of Urchin and Lugg now, who had gone beyond the mists twice and somehow returned safely. Nobody had ever done it a third time. Catkin might not be the only one who needed saving.

She could see them, Urchin and Lugg, carrying Needle between them, with two adult hedgehogs who must be Needle’s parents. It looked as if Lugg and Urchin were going to end up in the same place, which made her task a lot easier.

Following them was easy, too. They were slowed down by carrying Needle, and by stopping now and again to ask some passing animal what was happening. The Spring Gate, it looked as if they were on their way to the Spring Gate. Good.

She wasn’t sure if she could ask the Heart to help her in what she meant to do, but perhaps she could ask to be forgiven for it.
Heart, please understand why I’m doing this and I’m sorry, but I have to.