A Skin of a Dragon (The Guild of Gatekeepers Book 1)

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A Skin of a Dragon (The Guild of Gatekeepers Book 1) Page 10

by Frances Jones


  'There is nothing you can do but be patient,' I replied. 'We have made good progress.'

  Indeed, we had left Kent and East Sussex far behind and were crossing from West Sussex into Hampshire waters. We had barely had to trim the sails, so fortunate had we been with the wind speed and direction.

  'What's that?' asked Eliza as a small island not far from the mainland appeared through the mist.

  'That is the Isle of Wight,' I replied, squinting out into the mist.

  'That is where George said the King is being held,' said Eliza. 'How will we get to him if he is in the custody of a Parliamentarian?'

  'I don't know,' I replied. 'I had been wondering the same, but we haven't yet reached Other England. Let us worry about that for now and hope we reach it before the Shadow Horse does.'

  For the rest of the day, the wind maintained our speed, and the mist lifted somewhat. Eliza distracted herself watching the seals that we had begun to encounter bobbing up and down in the waves or lounging on rocks, while I steered the ship around the curves and sharp headlands of the Hampshire and east Dorset coast. I said nothing to Eliza, but the familiarity of the land and sea had provoked in me an irrepressible urge to see my family and let them know I was still alive.

  'We can't be far from Osmington Mills,' I thought to myself as we passed a long, straight stretch of beach.

  'What are you doing?' asked Eliza as I turned the wheel sharply and guided the ship towards land.

  'I am going to see my family. I have to let them know I am alive!' I replied.

  Chapter 25

  'No, Tom, you can't!' cried Eliza, seizing the wheel from me. 'Devere will kill you! You know that!'

  'Devere will kill us anyway when he finds out what we have done! I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to them. I must see them!' I cried. My voice was shrill with emotion, and my eyes stung as I fought back the tears that pooled in them.

  '’Tis not just you he will kill, Tom. He will kill them too, and do not think he won't, for I have known it happen! Please, Tom, see sense!’

  I stood for a long moment, torn between my longing to see my family once more, if only for a moment, and good sense. My limbs felt heavy, and my heart pounded. I knew in my heart that Eliza spoke the truth. She looked at me imploringly, her wide eyes filled with pity.

  At last, I let go of the wheel, and my arms hung limply at my sides. Eliza stepped up to the wheel and corrected the maneuver. Not a mile from where we now sailed, my old home looked out to sea, screened from sight by a hedge and a few grizzled oak trees. I choked back a sob and disappeared below deck.

  In the cabin, I sat with my head in my hands, ignoring all the peculiar objects that George had collected on his travels. There was a bird cage with a stuffed dodo inside, and a strangely carved mask with an elongated head and a terrifying red mouth filled with jagged teeth. I swept them off the desk that was pressed against the wall of the cabin and stared down at the wood rings on its surface for a long while.

  I only looked up at the sound of soft tapping on the cabin door. I couldn't be sure how long I had been sitting there.

  'May I come in?' asked Eliza from outside.

  I sighed and stood up. 'We shouldn't leave the wheel unattended,' I said, brushing past her as I stepped out of the cabin.

  'I am sorry about your family,' said Eliza hesitantly as she joined me at the wheel.

  I nodded but made no reply and glanced over at the dark smudge of the hedgerow beyond the cliffs. Tucked away behind it was my home. It was too far away now to see clearly. I wondered how many times I had looked out at that same view from my father's fishing boat and thought nothing of it. It seemed strange that something so inconsequential then now stirred such emotion within me.

  'We are in for a storm,' I muttered, looking up at the sky.

  Sure enough, the wind had picked up and the sails billowed to the full. Thick brown clouds gathered overhead. I was all-too familiar with what they foreboded.

  'A bad one?' asked Eliza.

  'I don't know,' I replied, 'but the compass is directing us south-west now. Perhaps we can escape the worst of it. We will find out if these sails work or not, otherwise. Help me hoist the trysail.'

  Almost as soon as we had lowered the mainsail, a rumble of thunder boomed overhead, and the wind squalled around us, whipping the sea into a soup of foam-crested waves. A moment later the rain started, pummeling the deck and drenching us to the bone. The ship rolled on its starboard side but remained upright.

  'Get the rope,' I yelled above the gale. 'Tie it round your waist.'

  'What for?' Eliza shouted back.

  'So you don't get swept overboard! Do it!'

  I fastened a length of rope around my waist and lashed it to the wheel. The ship heeled almost horizontal as an enormous wave broke against it, but still it remained just about upright.

  'Hold the wheel steady!' I shouted, but at that moment, another wave crashed over the deck, sweeping the compass from my hands. The ship rolled forward, sending it spinning across the deck.

  'The compass!' I cried as the ship was lifted almost vertical by another wave that surged beneath us, the compass hurtling towards the bow and the raging sea below. 'Hold my rope!' I called to Eliza as I dived to clear the length of the deck that stood between me and the compass.

  The ship hit the trough of the wave and rose again at the stern. The compass slid back down the deck towards me.

  My hands were numb and trembled with cold, but with my last reserve of energy, I snatched up the compass as it came hurtling towards me. Crawling along the deck to the hatch, I tossed it into the cabin and slammed the hatch shut.

  'Tom, we shall be wrecked!' cried Eliza from the wheel as she fought to steady it. The trysail flapped wildly where it had been abandoned, and the ship was heeling dangerously without the marvellous sails to keep her afloat.

  'Hang on there!' I yelled as I scrambled towards the mast. I pulled with all my strength on the halyard line as bit by bit, the trysail was raised. Behind me, Eliza was slumped before the wheel, barely able to stand long enough to get a grasp of it.

  Chapter 26

  'We have to steer her out of this storm or we shall be blown off course,' I called to Eliza above the howls of the wind and rain. The wheel spun wildly as the ship lurched over on its starboard side. 'Help me hold the wheel down,' I yelled.

  The wind almost knocked us sideways. It took all our strength to steady the wheel and guide the ship south, out of the eye of the storm. Waves lashed the deck and tossed us about like a leaf in a stream, showering us with spray.

  'Is it turning?' yelled Eliza.

  'I think so,' I replied, but my words were blown back into my mouth by the gale. The ship rose beneath a sudden swell and turned as it was driven into the trough. The wind was behind us now, driving us south out of the storm

  'This will be Devere's doing,' cried Eliza.

  'Don't let go! Keep her steady!' I yelled.

  I threw my full weight behind the wheel to keep it from rolling back with the surge as a final swell sent us spinning out of the path of the storm. The sea instantly felt calmer, and the rain eased a little. Overhead, the sky was clearing, and the first stars of evening appeared.

  Eliza groaned and peeled off her cloak. 'I'm as wet as a fish!' she cried. She looked back at the tempest we had just escaped and gasped as the waves at once subsided, where seconds ago they had tossed the ship about as though it were a toy boat. The wind lagged a little then was still but for a slight breeze ruffling the surface of the sea.

  'That was no ordinary storm. See how calm the sea is now! Devere knows what we have done. He knows we have taken the ship, I am sure of it. He will have directed the Agriculturian to cast a weather spell against us. Oh, my stomach! 'Tis in pieces. I think I am going to be sick!'

  'I thought you had found your sea legs by now,' I said. 'Go and get dry in the cabin. I can manage alone from here.'

  Eliza stomped below deck to dry off while I settled in front of the
wheel. I said nothing to Eliza, but secretly I shared her suspicions. I glanced up at the sky, now perfectly clear and with not a trace of the storm that had just passed. I thought of the Agriculturian and his weather spells. An uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach warned me that Devere was not going to allow us to get to Other England without a fight.

  The coast was behind us now and drifting further into the distance as the ship maintained a straight course south-west. I looked down at the compass face and wondered whether it would give some indication when we were close to our destination, but the needle simply pointed south-west as before.

  'If we carry on much further, we shall end up in the open ocean,' I thought.

  For the next few hours we took turns manning the wheel while the other rested. The compass needle drifted accordingly if the ship veered slightly, but we held a generally straight course, and by morning we were several more miles from the English coast.

  'I think I can see a fog ahead,' said Eliza as I came to join her at the wheel. It had been her duty for the past two hours, and she stood upon the prow squinting into the distance and shielding her eyes from the muted sunlight.

  'I see it,' I said, following her gaze. 'Where is the compass directing us?'

  'South-west- directly towards it,' replied Eliza. 'How far away do you think it is?'

  'I don't know,' I replied. 'It is difficult to judge distance at sea. Let’s keep watching it and see what the compass does.'

  Morning wore on, and the pale sun climbed higher in the sky, burning off any lingering sea mist, but the patch of fog remained as it was, getting gradually closer.

  'What are you doing?' asked Eliza as I pulled on the halyard and adjusted the sails. I had lowered them to slow the ship and prevent it from drifting too far off course while she was at the wheel. I was still unsure of her sailing abilities.

  'Speeding us up,' I replied. 'That mist is unnatural. Look at the sky; 'tis a perfectly clear day. Any mist should have dissipated by now.'

  The wind filled the sails, and the ship glided across the waves. The mist loomed closer until it was just before us, so close that I could reach out and feel the moisture on my hands. I watched as it enveloped the ship, and then it seemed we had passed into another world.

  Alongside the ship, a flash of white appeared suddenly beneath the waves before the head of the strangest sea creature I had ever encountered emerged from below the surface. It was white, with the smooth hide of a dolphin, and its mouth was curved into a gentle smile. It regarded us for a few seconds and let out a high-pitched whistle before disappearing back beneath the waves.

  As we sailed further into the cove, the sound of the waves lapping against the hull ceased, and a pervasive silence filled the air. The mist wreathed itself around the ship, but just ahead it lifted a little revealing a beach bounded upon either side by the rocky arms of the cliffs. High above, an imposing castle emerged as though carved from the living rock.

  'That is it,' whispered Eliza. The silence seemed such an inmate part of the place we had reached that talking seemed almost too human an activity to be carried out; a violation of something profound and wholly detached from human understanding.

  ‘I daren’t get any closer,’ I whispered. ‘See those whale bones reaching above the surface? I’ll warrant there are more hidden beneath. We shall have to take the raft.’

  Together we lowered the anchor and descended the ladder to the raft below. It took all my strength to paddle the short distance to the beach, for though the sea was unnaturally still, an invisible force seemed to resist our approach. I could well understand the reluctance of fishermen and sailors to venture into the cove.

  'I’ll not be sorry to leave this place,' said Eliza as we disembarked from the raft and dragged it beyond the tide’s reach. ‘‘Tis uncanny to be sure.’

  It felt strange to at last feel the earth beneath my feet after so long at sea. For several moments we could do little else but stare and drink in the silence that lay across the cove. 'Come,' I said at last. 'We ought not linger. Those steps lead to the cliff-top.'

  We crossed the beach and began the climb up the jagged stairway that zig-zagged across the cliff face. At times, we were forced to crawl on our hands and knees where the cliff reared almost vertical above the beach below. All the while, the silence pressed closer around us. The air felt somehow thick and alive, and an overwhelming sense that we were being watched had me looking over my shoulder and glancing up to the cliff top above, yet there wasn't a soul to be seen beside an ancient-looking, bald-headed raven that circled the cliff top.

  At last the stairway ended. A few stunted trees clung to the cliff edge, the only living thing of any consequence on that otherwise desolate tip of the land. High above, the castle loomed atop its rocky promontory and cast its shadow upon us. The enclosing wall was carved with the faces of gargoyles and other fantastic creatures that looked out over the forlorn landscape. I shuddered at the sight of them, certain that the cold stone eyes followed us as we walked in search of an entrance.

  ‘I don’t like the look of those carvings,’ said Eliza. ‘They seem as though they might come to life at any moment.’

  ‘Aye, but look there,’ I replied, gesturing to a pair of richly-carved gates in the westernmost part of the wall, embossed with images of strange chimeric creatures and secret symbols. Before them, two pure white peacocks stood unmoving, gazing out across the sea.

  'Are they real?' asked Eliza. 'I have never seen a creature so still.'

  'I don't know,' I replied, stepping towards them.

  Immediately, the peacocks displayed their enormous trains of white feathers, which spanned the entire width of the gates, barring the entrance. I dared not get any closer.

  'George said nothing of guards,’ I said, backing away. 'What are we to do? I don’t like the look of those spurs.’

  'I wonder if there is another entrance,' replied Eliza. 'Come, let’s see if there is another way in.'

  Giving the gates a wide berth, we followed the castle walls all the way around and back, but it was no use; there was no other door or gate to be seen, and the walls were too high and smooth to even attempt to climb.

  'There must be another way in,' I groaned. 'We have to get inside.'

  Eliza sat on the ground and held her head in her hands. I sank down beside her and stared across at the two peacocks as though the weight of my gaze would spirit them away. The bald-headed raven had alighted on top of the gates and watched us closely. I fancied the glint in his eye was one of mockery at out plight.

  Afternoon was wearing on, and the sun slid further down the sky. We sat for a long while, exhausted and dispirited. We had come this far, and now it seemed we had reached a dead end when the dragonskin was just within our reach.

  ‘Ambrose! Ambrose Ruddle!’ I called out in a sudden burst of frustration. The raven croaked and took flight, disappearing behind the walls. For several moments we listened for any sign that my call had been heeded, but the silence only pressed closer. The peacocks stood like carved stone, unconcerned by my outburst.

  'I suppose it’s too much to hope they ever sleep,’ I muttered.

  'Of course!' cried Eliza. 'The Venatorian’s bugle! No animal can resist its sound it is said.’

  'Will it work? Those peacocks are clearly enchanted,’ I replied, eyeing them doubtfully.

  ‘Maybe, but it’s worth a try.’

  We scrambled to our feet and hurried back to the palace steps.

  ‘Please be careful, Tom. Those spurs look vicious,’ said Eliza.

  I held the bugle to my lips and drew a breath. A low, clear note rang out as I emptied my lungs. I set my foot on the first step. The peacocks remained motionless. I stepped onto the next step, but they didn't move. Without taking my eyes off the birds, I moved up to the third and final step. At once the peacocks lunged, pecking and tearing at me. I shielded my face with one arm as I slipped and tumbled back down the steps. The peacocks immediately returned to their post, c
losed their trains and assumed their motionless attitude.

  'Curse and confound it!' I cried, inspecting a nasty gash along my forearm. 'Have you any more ideas?'

  'None,' replied Eliza miserably.

  Chapter 27

  I sank to the ground and wiped the blood from my arm. Shadows crept out of the gorse thickets and gathered all around us. I stared dejectedly for a long while at the still, silent peacocks and the gates behind them- all that stood between us and the dragonskin. In the west, the setting sun began to filter through the ragged clouds on the horizon. I looked back to the gates, tracing the intricate carvings upon them with my eyes. Between the stationary figures of the peacocks, the carvings seemed to gleam in the failing light. In the centre of the gates, a peacock with its train open stood below a pair of balance scales with the sun and crescent moon resting in the pans.

  As I stared at the carvings, the book I had studied in the library the day I met Eliza leapt into my mind. I saw the illustration I had lingered on then as clearly as if the book lay open before me: a peacock encased in a glass vessel crowned with a golden crown. The sight of the two peacock guards had undoubtedly dislodged it from the half-forgotten regions of my memory, but the image’s meaning now had me leaping to my feet.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Eliza as I began to frantically polish the blade of my pocket knife to a high shine with the corner of my cloak.

  ‘It’s a test!’ I cried. ‘The carvings on the door- it’s a test to be sure only magicians pass the door!’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said Eliza, bewildered.

  ‘No time to explain,’ I replied. ‘Watch the sun. Has it touched the horizon yet?’

  ‘’Tis almost there. Dusk is not far off,’ replied Eliza.

  ‘Take my knife,’ I said, handing her the blade. ‘Hold it up to the sun, and when I give the word, direct the reflection of the peacocks’ feathers into their eyes.’

 

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