The Starkin Crown (5 page)

Peregrine shrugged. ‘It's the custom. We do it every year'.

Grizelda watched as everyone took their lighted candle and walked out of the great hall in groups of two and three, smiling and talking. ‘Where is everyone going? Is the feast over?'

‘They're all going to light their own fires again,' Peregrine explained. ‘Every fire in the castle is extinguished, and relit again from the Yule fire'.

‘That explains why it's so cold,' Grizelda said with an exaggerated shiver.

‘Most will go to bed now. Only the Erlqueen will stay up, to watch the fire and make sure it doesn't go out. Normally we'd all stay up too, drinking mulled apple-ale and telling stories till dawn, but Father thinks it's best if we all get some sleep while we can'. Peregrine stood up and picked up his own candle, set in a beautifully wrought silver holder with a handle shaped like a swan.

‘Why? Why does the queen have to stay up? Can't a servant do it?'

‘No,' Peregrine answered curtly.

‘I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. It's just all so strange. I'd like to understand'.

Her words disarmed him. Peregrine came down the steps to her side. ‘It's the Erlqueen's duty and her honour to kindle fire for her people. One day it'll be my job. I have to practise lighting fires so I can do it with a single spark. It's harder than it looks'.

‘I have never lit a fire in my life,' Grizelda said.

‘You can start now. Jack, get Lady Grizelda a candle. She can kindle her own fire and share in the Yuletide luck'.

Glowering, Jack went across to the side table and picked up two of the hundreds of candlesticks laid out neatly in rows. He brought them back, and Grizelda took one with a quick smile of thanks. Then she and Peregrine joined the long queue of people filing past the Erlqueen, who gave them all small gifts of scented candles, or candied fruit, or a little pot of rosemary or winter hyssop.

Peregrine bent and kindled his candle, with Grizelda and Jack following after, then went to make his bow before the Erlqueen. She bowed her head and gave him the midwinter blessing, then offered him a sprig of mistletoe from her crown. He stared at her, his heart sinking, and she nodded her head and tried to smile. He stepped back and Grizelda gave a perfunctory bob, then stared as the Erlqueen passed her a small pot planted with trailing ivy.

‘Ivy is symbolic of fidelity and friendship,' Peregrine explained to her as, carrying their lighted candles and their gifts, they moved towards the door. Jack accepted his gift—a pot of heal-all salve—and hastened after them.

‘So it's like a message to me?' Grizelda asked.

Peregrine nodded. ‘Everything has a deeper meaning for the wildkin. The Erlqueen is offering you a hand in friendship, but she expects loyalty and friendship in return'.

‘What does your gift mean? It's just a mistletoe twig,' she said contemptuously.

‘It means many things,' he replied slowly, trying to think how to explain. ‘It's sacred to the wildkin. It is their winter crown. The Erlqueen cuts it with a silver knife and does not allow it to touch the ground. A sprig from her crown is a great honour and shows that I am her heir'.

‘Yet you looked surprised when she gave it to you,' Grizelda said. ‘Surely you've always known you were her heir'.

‘Well, since her last little boy died, yes, I have'.

‘So why so surprised?'

‘She always gives me mistletoe when I'm about to go on a journey. It's protection against misfortune and illness and lightning. See how the twig grows, in a forked shape like a lightning bolt?'

Grizelda gave him a sharp glance. ‘So you think you're being sent away from the castle? I want to go too!'

‘I don't know …'

His parents were standing together at the far end of the hall, both looking tired and worried. King Merrik had flung open a window and was looking out into the storm-swept night. There was a gust of wind that made the heavy curtains billow and the hundreds of tiny candle flames flicker like snakes' tongues. Snow whirled in, bringing with it a small bat-winged creature with smouldering orange eyes. ‘Wake up, wake up!' the omen-imp shrieked, swooping through the crowd, knocking off wreaths of flowers, tweaking ears and pulling beards. ‘Get your spears and swords, time to fight starkin lords!'

‘So it's true?' Queen Liliana cried.

‘Are you sure, Tom-Tit-Tot? Did you see them? What do they plan?' King Merrik asked.

‘Through the storm, soldiers creep, hoping to kill you while you sleep,' Tom-Tit-Tot replied.

‘How many?' the king demanded.

‘Many as trees in a wood, many as plums in a pud,' the omen-imp answered, flinging wide his hairy arms.

‘Where are they? How far away?' Queen Liliana wanted to know.

‘Not as far as I can spy, not as close as I can spit'. The omenimp came to rest on the stag-horn chandelier, causing it to swing madly and shadows to hop and skip over the walls.

‘That close? There's no time to waste'. King Merrik glanced at Peregrine, then issued a quick order in an undertone to the head of his bodyguards, who went out of the hall at a run.

Peregrine stepped up to his parents, gripping the mistletoe so sharply its barbed leaves cut into his palm.

‘I don't want to go,' he said. ‘Please, may I not stay with you?'

His father answered wearily, ‘I know you'd rather stay, Peregrine, but we need to know you're safe. You're too precious to risk. You'll leave for the Erlrune's just as soon as we can get you out the door'.

‘Out the door, what a bore!' Tom-Tit-Tot shrieked, swinging on the chandelier so wildly half the candles blew out.

Peregrine's protest was drowned by Grizelda, who flung herself down on her knees before the king, her candle spraying hot wax. ‘Please, your Majesty, let me go too! I beg of you! My brother thought you would flee the castle and take me with you. If I am found here, it will prove my brother a traitor and we will both be killed. Let me flee before they arrive'.

King Merrik bent and raised her from the ground. ‘Very well. You must ride out before dawn'.

‘Before dawn, what a yawn,' the omen-imp jeered.

‘Go and prepare,' Queen Liliana said to Grizelda. ‘And wrap up warmly. It'll be a cold, hard journey through the winter forest'.

Grizelda nodded, excitement kindling in her cerulean-blue eyes. King Merrik detained her with a gesture. ‘I must warn you, Lady Grizelda, that you will be gagged and bound. If you make any attempt to draw the attention of the starkin, any sound or sign at all, you will be killed. My men will not hesitate for a second. Do you understand?'

Grizelda nodded, white to her lips.

‘I'
M SORRY
, R
OBIN, YOU HAVE TO GO
,' Q
UEEN
L
ILIANA SAID
, methodically packing a satchel with everything she thought her son might need. She trusted no-one else with the task, even though this was not the first time Peregrine had had to flee in the middle of the night. ‘You'll be safe with Aunt Briony'.

‘Oh Mam, why? Why can't I stay with you and Father? I haven't seen you in months'. Peregrine sat cross-legged on his bed, sharpening his dagger. His mother's old nursemaid, Stiga, padded softly back and forth from the wardrobe, bringing his mother what she thought might be required.

‘It's too dangerous,' Queen Liliana replied.

‘Then why are you staying?'

Queen Liliana sat down next to him, drawing up her knees under her skirt so she could hug them close to her chest. ‘You know why, Robin'.

Peregrine did know why. The best defence against fusillier fire was wind, to blow it back into the shooter's face, or a
deluge of rain to snuff out the flame. ‘If I could work weather magic, would you let me stay?' he asked sullenly.

She drew him close, kissing his forehead. ‘I'd still want to keep you safe'.

‘I'm not a little boy anymore,' he protested.

She sighed. ‘I know, darling. But your father and I will be better able to fight if we're not worrying about you all the time'.

‘But I spent all summer at the Evenlinn, studying spell craft with Aunty Briony and war craft with Uncle Pedrin and court etiquette with Aunty Lisandre. When can I actually
use
all the stuff I have to learn?'

Peregrine loved his great-aunt Briony, who was the guardian of the Well of Fates, a magical pool in which could be seen visions of the past, present and future. He loved her best friends, Pedrin and Lisandre, who had lived with her ever since their home, Estelliana Castle, had been seized by Vernisha's soldiers. Pedrin and Lisandre had raised King Merrik while his own mother Mags had been busy leading the rebel forces in the long war for freedom from the starkin, and had adopted Peregrine as their own grandchild. Peregrine also loved the Erlrune's old house on the shores of the Evenlinn, the vast lake which glimmered quietly in a secret valley deep in the mountains. However, he felt a deep frustration that he must always be sent away whenever danger threatened, instead of helping his poor, worn-out parents like he wished.

‘There's so much you need to know,' his mother replied, looking harassed. ‘And we are in the midst of a war, Robin. Your people are suffering cruelly. They are hurt and hungry and ill. There is no justice for them, no-one to protect them or keep them and their children safe. How can you be a good king to them if all you care about is having fun?'

‘It's not all I care about!' Peregrine said. ‘I'm not asking to stay because I want
fun
! I want to fight! I want to help you win this war. I know I can help. Just let me stay, Mam, please'.

She held up one hand. ‘Don't even try that with me, Robin. It's not safe. You're to go to the Erlrune's'.

‘Could I go in search of the Storm King's spear instead? Please, Mam! I'm sure I could find it. You know the Erlrune thinks I have the Gift of Finding. She has spent ever so much time teaching me how to find things that are lost, I'm sure she …'

‘It's too dangerous,' said his mother flatly.

‘Why? Why is it dangerous? I could go in disguise, no-one need know who I am. I could pretend to be a minstrel'. He picked up his flute, playing a few sweet notes.

His mother took the flute away and laid it down again. ‘Vernisha thinks all minstrels are spies, and all pedlars and travelling scribes too. And you know what would happen if you played in a village square, or at a manor house. Every animal for miles would come galloping along to hear you play'.

‘Oh, Mam, they wouldn't! Not anymore. I've got really good at calling them only when I want them'.

‘Really?' His mother pointed at a corner of the room where two mice had crept out of a crack, their beady eyes fixed on him in wonder. Blitz moved restlessly on his perch, turning his hooded head towards the tiny sound their claws made on the stone.

‘Oh, blast it!' Peregrine said, thumping his fist into the eiderdown. Then he grinned reluctantly. ‘I wasn't really paying attention,' he confessed. ‘Honestly, Mam, I can control it if I want to'.

‘So you say,' she answered dryly, pointing now to a spider
that had dropped down from the ceiling on a long thread and was dangling in front of Peregrine's face. He swatted it away irritably.

‘Please, Mam! You know you always said I could go in search of the spear once I had come into my Gift. Well, I'm fifteen now, practically a grown man! And I could find the spear, I know I could. The prophecy says we shan't be able to defeat the starkin until we have the spear'.

His mother sighed and looked at him with worried eyes. Peregrine gazed back, willing her to say, ‘Yes! Of course you must go! Ride forth with my blessing, my son!' After all, it was his mother who had sworn to find the lost spear of the Storm King when she was just his age, and who had told him so many tales about the spear that he could imagine exactly how it would feel in his hand.

‘A child of storm shall raise high the spear of thunder, and by the power of three, smite the throne of stars asunder
,' Stiga mumbled. She brought Queen Liliana a packet of needles, pins and coloured threads, then came to stand before Peregrine, patting his face with her tiny gnarled hands. ‘Child of storm, find the spear, it is time, do not fear'.

‘See, Mam, Stiga says it's time'.

Queen Liliana smiled wearily at the old woman who, murmuring the prophecy to herself again, went to the wardrobe and brought out Peregrine's grey travelling cloak.

‘Robin, the spear was lost when your grandmother was very young. It was thrown into a bog and must've surely rotted away by now'. Queen Liliana took the cloak and checked its pockets, removing a handful of flints, a broken quill, some knucklebones and a wrinkled apple core that looked like it had been there for months. Holding it distastefully by the
stem, she flicked it to the mice, who seized their bounty and disappeared.

‘But …'

‘No buts, Robin-boy'.

‘But, Mam, I have the Gift of Finding, just like your father did'. Peregrine jumped to his feet, seizing his mother's arm pleadingly.

‘My father died looking for the Storm King's spear and so did my mother, and the world is far more dangerous now than it was then'. Queen Liliana gave his hand a pat and then hefted the bulging satchel in her hand. ‘It's a bit heavy,' she said anxiously. ‘Do you think you'll be able to carry it?'

‘I've been carrying a travelling pack since I could crawl,' he said impatiently, taking it from her and swinging it onto his shoulder. ‘Stop fussing, Mam'.

‘All right. I'm sorry. It's just that I so hoped we'd have the winter together. I've hardly seen you in ages'.

‘That's because you keep sending me to the Erlrune any time there's a battle,' Peregrine said, taking up his flute and tucking it safely inside his pocket. ‘If you'd let me stay and fight with you …'