The Snowy Tower (3 page)

Princess Roana stiffened, her jaw tight.

‘So we must travel to the north at once,’ she said.

‘There is much to be done before you can go,’ replied Master Drummond, consulting his list. ‘You
will need clothes that are suitable for the cold – gloves, hats, warm coats, scarves and blankets.’

‘And rugs for your horses,’ added Fox.

Master Drummond scribbled furiously adding to his list.

‘And good provisions because hunting will be scarce in the north, and we don’t really have time to waste,’ Ethan mused.

‘How long do you think it will take us to ride to the Silent Mountains?’ Lily asked.

‘About a week to reach the foothills,’ Master Drummond stated. ‘Although climbing through the mountains will be much slower, so perhaps ten days. It will be much quicker coming back if you can catch a barge down the river Bryn. The journey upriver, against the current, is far too slow and arduous by barge.’

Fox stood up from the table and paced the room, stroking his beard with concern. Mia scampered from the table up his arm onto her usual shoulder perch.

‘I am anxious about the children travelling on their own so far to the north,’ Fox worried. ‘As you say, there are many dangers on the roads, and we know the Sedah are watching out for four children travelling with a dog. I should travel with them, to help protect them.’

‘I know,’ agreed Master Drummond. ‘But as we have discussed, you are also very recognisable and have already been betrayed to the Sedahs, because they knew exactly where to wait for you when you returned to Tiregian. I think you should lie low in one of my safe houses for a while.’

Fox stopped pacing and glared at Master Drummond furiously.

‘I will not,’ growled Fox. ‘I can look after myself. I don’t want to endanger the children but I will not be hidden away in a safe house. I have spent my life avoiding capture.’

‘Do not underestimate the Sedahs,’ warned Master Drummond. ‘They are not a bunch of lackadaisical coast guards.’

‘Still, someone should go with them,’ Fox insisted.

‘I would go with the children myself, but our plans are at a crucial stage in Tira,’ Master Drummond explained. ‘There is no-one I can trust to co-ordinate things here, and I dare not risk raising suspicion among the Sedahs. Perhaps some of the rebel soldiers –’

‘We’ll be fine on our own,’ interrupted Ethan. ‘We’ve managed to find the Sun Gem and Moon Pearl so far, and elude Sniffer and bandits and Sedah soldiers.’

‘As you said, the Sedah have not yet seized control of the countryside to the north, so we should be safer there, too,’ Saxon added. ‘Besides, the Sedahs are more likely to notice us if we ride north with a band of bodyguards.’

‘Plus we have Aisha,’ Lily argued. ‘She is better than half a dozen bodyguards.’

Aisha sat up at the sound of her name and barked fiercely, as though agreeing fervently with Lily. Charcoal meowed and arched her back in disagreement. Everyone laughed.

‘True enough,’ agreed Master Drummond. ‘You have all done brilliantly. Perhaps the princess should stay here with us for protection, though. It would be a disaster if the Sedahs found her royal highness.’

‘I cannot stay here,’ argued Roana. ‘As you said, not even Tira is safe, and it is my brother we seek. I must go to rescue him – he will be frightened if more strangers try to take him away.’

Fox sat down again, nodding reluctantly.

‘Perhaps the rebels in the forest could be warned to look out for the children,’ Fox suggested.

‘The less people who know about this journey, the better,’ Master Drummond said. ‘If no-one else knows about it, then it is harder for the children to be betrayed.’

Ethan felt a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. It seemed this journey would be even more perilous than their previous adventures.

‘So it does seem that the best plan is for you four to travel by yourselves to the north,’ decided Fox. ‘But we will do all we can to make it safer for you.’

So everyone set to work, packing saddle bags, making piles of blankets, rugs, candles and foodstuffs. Fox rustled up bulky, cable-stitch woollen fishermen’s jumpers, with knitted caps, scarves and thick socks from his fishing contacts down at Ainsley. Cookie came from the palace, bringing warm woollen gloves that had been hurriedly knitted by her and Marnie.

Moonbeam, Nutmeg, Toffee and Caramel were disguised as humble packhorses, with mud rubbed into their glossy coats, twigs knotted in their manes and tails, and frayed rope halters replacing their fine leather tack. They were laden with barrels of ale and cider. Moonbeam snickered in dismay, tossing her proud head and pawing the ground.

It was impossible to hide the beautiful formation of their well-bred heads, and the sleek musculature of their hunting heritage. Master Drummond just hoped that the bored Sedah guards would not see past the mud and prickles and shabby tack.

‘People generally see what they expect to see,’ Master Drummond explained as he examined the effect. ‘They probably won’t look twice at the horses.’

The saddles, bridles, food, weapons, clothes and saddle packs were hidden in the farmer’s cart in rough hessian sacks and topped with cabbages.

‘Now, much against my better judgement, we have agreed that you will make the journey north by yourselves, but we may need to contact you,’ Master Drummond said. ‘If I send someone to meet you I will give them a code phrase so that you know they are a friend. The code phrase will be, “Looks like that horse is foundering”. Your response should be, “No, she just had a stone caught in her hoof”. Then they will know you are the right children as well.’

‘Looks like that horse is foundering. No, she just had a stone caught in her hoof,’ repeated Lily, memorising the phrases.

Finally all was ready. The four children stood in the courtyard, their clothes ragged, and daubs of dirt on their faces. Master Drummond had his huge gentle draughthorse, Judy, harnessed in the shafts of the laden farm cart. Charcoal was safely stowed in a comfortable wicker fishing creel, strapped onto Nutmeg’s saddle.

Cookie had brought another large sack of provisions from the palace, which she had baked before dawn. She embraced each child in turn, her face crinkled with worry. She hugged Roana long and hard.

‘Cookie darling, please look after my mother,’ begged Roana, ‘and Marnie, and poor Willem down in the dungeons.’ Cookie turned away sharply. She could not bear to tell Roana the news that was now flickering through the palace – the news that Governor Lazlac was forcing Queen Ashana to marry him.

Fox strolled into the courtyard leading a small coal-black pony, with Mia riding proudly on the pony’s withers, clinging to a short tuft of mane. The pony had been closely shaved from nose to hoof, with a neatly plaited short tail. Her black eyes were quick and intelligent, and her velvet nose snuffled the air in curiosity.

‘This is Mischief,’ announced Fox, a note of love and pride in his voice. The children remembered that Mischief was one of Fox’s highly trained smugglers’ ponies, the one he had ridden the night they returned to Tiregian. After Sniffer had ambushed them, Mischief had led the string of ponies away across the moors and back to their
stables, without a rider. ‘I thought you might need another clever horse to help carry your provisions on the voyage north, and when you find Prince Caspar, to carry him home. I’ll be moving operations to the east for a couple of months so I won’t be needing her.’

Roana ran across to Fox and gave him a hug. ‘Thank you, Fox. Thank you for everything,’ she whispered.

‘It’s nothing but my loyal duty,’ grinned Fox. Roana knew that Fox’s loyalties in the past had never been to Tiregian and the royal family. His loyalties always lay with Mia, the
Owl
, himself and his friends, plus of course anyone who could pay him enough gold. It was a sign of his respect and affection for the children that he now counted them as worthy of his loyalty. Mia leapt up onto Roana’s head and patted her comfortingly on her cropped blonde hair, crooning softly.

‘That is the first time Mia has climbed up on me,’ Roana laughed in delight. Mia tweaked Roana’s ear then leapt back to her familiar perch on Fox’s broad shoulder. Fox handed Roana a small pouch, which jingled as she took it in her hand.

‘The twenty gold crescents you paid me for taking you on the
Owl
,’ he explained. ‘I decided that
I was more than amply rewarded by the ingots you found me, and I thought you might need the money on your journey.’

‘Thank you, Fox,’ Roana said gravely, realising that Fox was giving her much more than a bag of gold.

Fox turned to each of the children in turn, wishing them good fortune and a speedy voyage. When he came to Saxon, he pulled a brown leather pouch from his pocket.

‘Saxon, this is for you.’ Fox said quietly. ‘I know you remember how to use it, and I pray that it may help you find your way safe home again.’ Reverently Saxon opened the pouch and slipped out a silver case, about the size of his palm, which was engraved with the form of a wide-eyed owl. The case clicked open to reveal a face, decorated with several letters and a needle that flickered and shimmered. Saxon cautiously turned the case so the needle pointed to the ornate
N
at the top.

‘Your compass,’ breathed Saxon. ‘It’s beautiful, Fox, I will treasure it.’

Then all the goodbyes were said and the scruffy convoy moved away, Fox and Cookie and Mia waving madly from the courtyard. Judy the draughthorse clopped slowly in the lead, Master Drummond at the reins, with Mischief tied to the
back of the cart. Next came Ethan and Roana leading the barrel-laden horses, with Saxon, Lily and Aisha bringing up the rear.

Down in the palace dungeons, Willem sat with his head in his hands. He felt as though he was going mad. He had no idea where his children were. He had not seen his wife, or Queen Ashana, for days. He was now denied the brief comfort of the half hour’s walk in the herb garden. There were no more special rations from Cookie now that the queen was gone. Willem could imagine his whole life stretched out before him – an endless succession of long, brain-numbingly boring days and black nights. He
was
going mad.

Willem looked over at the others. He saw one of the gentlemen-in-waiting leaning in the corner. Like all of them, he was dressed in filthy rags. The man had a completely blank face. His mouth hung open a little, the lips slack, the eyes unblinking and lifeless.

Willem was shocked. ‘Charles?’ he called. There was no response. ‘Charles!’ Willem jumped up and shook the man, who gradually came back to consciousness.

‘Leave me alone,’ Charles mumbled. ‘Just leave me alone.’

That’s probably what I looked like just now
, Willem thought.
I am turning into a drooling vegetable. If we are ever rescued or manage to get out of here, I’ll be no use to anyone. If someone put a bow in my hands now I probably wouldn’t have the strength to draw it, let alone shoot it. I have to do something to keep us all going down here.

Willem stood up and started to pace up and down, up and down, his mind racing.

We need to exercise and make our bodies strong again
, Willem thought.
I wonder if there is some way of communicating with the prisoners in the other cells? What if I could somehow chip a tiny hole through the mortar to the next cell? Then I could talk to the prisoners there and encourage them to do the same to the next cell and the next cell, and perhaps all the prisoners could be encouraged to walk and exercise. At least then we would have some hope.

Willem smiled to himself, a sense of purpose and direction surging through his tired body.
The Sun Lord knows that while there is life and blood pumping through my veins, then there is always hope.

Governor Lazlac sat at his desk, wading through a mountain of paperwork. For the second time in ten minutes, he caught himself dreaming about his impending nuptials. Perhaps this afternoon he would drop in to the gardener’s cottage to see how the dress was progressing.

A loud knock sounded on the door. A young Sedah soldier saluted nervously, handing over a thick parchment sealed with black and red wax. ‘Urgent despatch for you, sir, just in from Sedah.’