Authors: Chris Mould
The Silver Casket (2 page)
Beyond the Bronze Warrior
Stanley lay comfortably wrapped up in the warmth of his bed. He had drifted off into a deep sleep, with a candle still flickering by his bedside. The faint light illuminated his face in the darkness until it finally petered out.
Stanley began to dream. In the dream he swam effortlessly through the lake out on the moor. Deeper and deeper he went, until there
was nothing around him but a bottomless black.
was nothing around him but a bottomless black.
Staring eyes and sharpened teeth soared up toward him from the abyss. It startled him before he realized it was his old friend the pike.
Circling Stanley's head and drifting effortlessly around him, the pike began to speak.
“Help me, Stanley. It is time for me to return. Do not blame yourself for what happened; it was a mere accident. You are sitting in wait for the full force of the Quickening to materialize, and I fear that down here, I cannot help you. Take me home, Stanley. The Ibis sits in my stomach, and her heart beats so hard that it gives me a bellyache. I long for my place on the wall. I had grown to love my glass case, but I did not realize it until I was outside it. I fear I am growing old, and though at one time the cold did not bother me, now it bites at my bones and I long for the warmth of the house.”
Suddenly Stanley felt the urge to reach the surface. He soared quickly upward, desperate
to grab a breath of air. As he burst through, he woke with a start.
to grab a breath of air. As he burst through, he woke with a start.
He sat up wide-eyed in his bed, peering into the gloom.
“Just a dream,” he said, lying down again.
But the dream would not leave him alone. It repeated itself all night and woke him endlessly, until the morning light pierced through the tiny hole in the heavy curtains.
A rotted flag waved through the mist. Grim voices bellowed through the darkness.
A crash of waves broke across the quarterdeck and drenched the ghastly crew.
Down in the cabin, three poisoned-looking faces sat together at a large wooden table, spilling grog across the maps.
A rogue, tattooed from head to toe, raised his tankard.
“I swear that as long as my rotten spirit wanders this earth, I, Scribbles Flanaghan, will seek out the Ibis and bring it
'ome to its rightful place,'ere on board the Rusty Blade. And if we'appen to spy the silver casket on our travels, well, that is ours also. Do you swear by the same, Mister Smiff?” he asked his nearest partner.
'ome to its rightful place,'ere on board the Rusty Blade. And if we'appen to spy the silver casket on our travels, well, that is ours also. Do you swear by the same, Mister Smiff?” he asked his nearest partner.
“That I do, Mister Scribbles, sir. That I do,” said Seafood Smith. He popped another crab claw open and swallowed it down with a swig of ale.
“And what about yerself there, Mister Doyle? Will yer be saying the same?”
“You can count on Doyle, me hearties. I will fight to the end to take back what once was mine.” He pulled a pair of nasty-looking pliers from his top pocket. “I always'as a little trick up me sleeve to get what I want. They don't call me Doyle the Dentist for nothin',” he sneered as he opened and closed his pincers. They all laughed out loud.
Someone rattled down the staircase from up on
deck, spluttering and gasping and soaked in sea wash. “Mister Scribbles, sir, permission to speak, sir.”
deck, spluttering and gasping and soaked in sea wash. “Mister Scribbles, sir, permission to speak, sir.”
“Out with it, Mister Phipps. What is troubling you?”
“There's another ship, sir. A pirate ship, sir, up ahead. She looks like getting there afore us.”
“Well get a move on then, Phipps, and stop blubberin'.” Scribbles raised his voice and sent a grog bottle hurtling at the back of Phipps's head. “The Rusty Blade will not be beaten by any other ship.”
Stanley had drifted off again. He was rudely awakened by the sound of someone rapping at the front door. He listened for Mrs. Carelli and, sure enough, her footsteps clomped across the polished floor of the hallway.
“Hello, poppet,” he heard her say. He knew it was DaisyâMrs. Carelli used that name for her and for nobody else.
In the short time that Stanley had known Daisy, they had become firm friends, and already they had been through thick and thin together. It was a short walk from Daisy's uncle's lighthouse to the Hall, and she spent much of her time at Stanley's side.
Stanley gathered himself together and thundered down the staircase, desperate to tell Daisy about his dream. But only when Mrs. Carelli was out of the way.
He waited for his moment and then he pounced. It was strange to retell the story in daylight.
“But it's only a dream, Stanley,” Daisy reassured him. “It doesn't really mean anything.”
“Daisy, listen. We can't leave the Ibis where it is. It is vulnerable, and if we have it, we can protect it. If we leave it in the water, they will come and take it easily, without any challenge. The dream is a warning. We must act.”
“All right, then. When?”
“Soon. But when we return with the pike we'll have to hide him. Mrs. Carelli won't be happy if she knows that he is back here, with the Ibis in his belly. We need a hiding place, somewhere that doesn't get cleaned regularly. But that rules out most of the house!”
“It is time for me to show you something,” announced Daisy. “I haven't gotten around to
telling you about this, but now the time is right.”
telling you about this, but now the time is right.”
Looking at her, Stanley narrowed his eyes. “The time is right for what?”
Daisy took him by the hand and led him through the maze of winding corridors of the ground floor, past the pictures encased in huge wooden frames and the strange objects in cabinets.
Stanley was intrigued. Even now, Daisy still knew the old place better than he did. When she used to clean for Mrs. Carelli, she had come to know every nook and cranny there was to find.
Finally they stood at the end of a corridor, facing the figure of an ancient warrior cast in bronze.
“What do you think, Stanley?”
“What do I think? Well, yes, it's very
impressive but ⦠I've seen it before. I've been here long enough to know it was there. Daisy, what has this got to do with anything?”
impressive but ⦠I've seen it before. I've been here long enough to know it was there. Daisy, what has this got to do with anything?”
She giggled to herself. “You really have no idea, do you?”
The figure held a broadsword in its hand. Daisy gripped the sword's handle and pulled on it, making a satisfying clunk. Then she grabbed the front of the figure and heaved at it.
It suddenly became obvious to Stanley that the ancient warrior was also a huge door.
“Help me, then!” Daisy asked.
Stanley was mesmerized and didn't move for a moment.
“It's amazing what you find by accident when you're dusting,” Daisy said as Stanley gathered himself together and helped her to pull the heavy casing wide open.
A blast of cold air rushed out at him from inside. He couldn't see what was up ahead, but it appeared to be some kind of tunnel.
“Where does it go?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear.
“Why don't you find out?” said Daisy, smiling. “You'll need a light”'
Stanley ran to his room and returned, clattering down the steps, with the small candleholder that had been placed by his bed.
“What you up to, young Buggles?” came a voice from upstairs.
“Nothing, Mrs. C-C-Carelli, I promise.” And he disappeared too quickly for her to ask questions.
In a moment Stanley was winding his way into the darkness with Daisy clutching his shoulder. The way ahead was black and narrow. Their heads were near the roof of the tunnel, and they had to bend slightly to save themselves from getting bumped.
The passage seemed to be never-ending, turning and twisting. All the while Daisy hung on behind Stanley and urged him onward.
Just when Stanley thought it would never stop, the path began to open up. He thought he could hear the rush of the sea in the distance. “Go on,” Daisy said. “You're nearly there.”
Soon they were standing in a huge cave where the sea came in to form a large pool. A circular opening led out to where the water crashed against the rocks on the south side of the island. Bits of driftwood swam in the foamy water that spilled over the limestone. All around them were craggy platforms and
hiding places. An old cupboard lay lopsided against a wall of rock, and a little wooden rowboat was tied to a stone pillar.
hiding places. An old cupboard lay lopsided against a wall of rock, and a little wooden rowboat was tied to a stone pillar.
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