Henry VIII looked up. “No, no,” he said. “Nasty, dangerous stuff, battlefields. The great jousts perhaps, with all the crowd cheering and throwing flowers. But it gets mighty hot inside all that armour.”
“It gets hot chopping people’s heads off too,” said Nathan. But Henry VIII did not hear him.
Still within the argument, Poppy was trying to make herself understood to Paolo and Gino. “Look,” she yelled into their frowning faces. “You were all down in those caves with Etna blowing her top, and now suddenly its grass and sunshine. Magic. You have to believe when it’s right here in front of your noses.”
Gino chewed his lip. “We must have climbed up into the fields,” he said. “Daisies. I walk here most days.”
“I give up,” glowered Poppy. Yet then, almost without a moment between, the sunshine went out, the sky darkened and turned to rock, and they were all back in the caves. The three kings were so confused, they all stood gazing around, mouths open.
Yet the Brigands seemed quite comfortable. “See,” said Gino. “this is where we always go. Admitted, we was quick this time. But tis our place.”
Paolo, not quite so sure, stroked his black moustache and then shook his head. “Too quick,” he said. “Must be dreaming.”
“Awake or dreaming,” said Deben, grabbing the captain. “I’ve proved I can do magic.”
“Even if you keep getting it wrong,” mumbled Poppy.
“Hey Jim,” called Paolo. “Why does that ugly lad keep grabbing you? You wouldn’t put up with that when I first knew you.”
“Tutti pazzi,” repeated the small brigand.
“He says we’re all crazy.”
Peter was trying to explain things to Violet. John’s Granny was still angry, as though all this strange behaviour had been purposefully done to upset her. “Hurled here and hurled there,” she said, red in the face. “It’s that terrible girl to blame, the heretic. Or that horrid boy who pretends to be part of my family.”
“No, you’ve got it all wrong,” said Peter trying to pat her plump little hand. “It’s just magic. It’s good having magic. Think of all the clever things people could do with magic. You’ve travelled to Sicily. Now, you never thought you’d manage that, did you?”
“No. And never wanted to,” complained Violet.
Henry VIII did not seem at all pleased to be back in the darkness and the smell of the caves, and he stamped both feet. “Light a candle. When’s supper served? Roast lampreys? And where’s Cromwell?”
“You chopped his head off,” said Nathan, trying to remember his history lessons.
Richard, thumping on the wall to test the strength of the rock, said, this may be a difficult place to get out of. And I can hear the rumble and vibration of thunder.”
“Tis the volcano,” said the captain. “But it don’t sound too bad to me. Better than it was. I’ll show you the way out.” He grabbed hold of Deben and dragged him to the crack in the dark stone. “Here, you idiot with all your stupid bad magic, you go first. If Etna is still dangerous, then you can be the first to get swallowed by fire and lava.”
Deben was about to say no, when the captain grabbed him by the collar and a handful of hair and hoisted him up into the open crack. Lob hurried after and helped lift Deben back out into the air. Another of the bandits hopped after Lob, and the pirate captain jumped up next.
“Terror’s coming,” he called, swinging his legs up onto the grass.
Henry VIII, stamping and hollering, pushed everyone else out of the way and demanded that no one should go before the king, although both Richard III and Henry V immediately pointed out that they were also kings, and from outside they could hear Deben yelling that he was king of all Lashtang.
“You’re not. Ninester is,” called Alice, but she was standing well back, without the slightest desire to climb up next. It wasn’t an easy climb in long skirts.
Henry couldn’t do it without help, and it took both the other kings and Simon Shark with two bandits to hoist him out, all pushing up beneath his large behind and all that slippery velvet. But eventually out he popped, happily breathed in fresh air, remembered to thank the other kings, and strode off shouting for his herald, his page, his chef, his wife, his son and his chancellor.
Richard III chuckled. “You may claim I’m dead,” he said, “but looking at the next generations of royalty, I should think England misses the Plantagenet’s.”
“Trouble is,” said Nathan, “history gets rewritten by the victors. And it’s full of lies and mistakes.”
“Come on,” shouted Poppy. “Never mind about history. We’re not in school now. Let’s get back to the ship.”
“Ship?” said Henry V, puzzled once more. “My men onboard? The return of the army?”
“Not exactly,” laughed Captain Jim Tucker, or Terror as he called himself. “Tis my pirate ship, The Terror of the Seas. You can sail with me if you want, but it’ll take me a mighty long time to sail all the way back to England.”
Getting Violet Crinford up from the caves was an even tougher job than lifting fat Henry. She squeaked and squealed, shouted, “Mind my skirts,” and then, “you’re hurting my arm,” and finally, “I think I’m going to die.” But they managed to push her back onto the grass, and everyone stood around, panting for breath.
The Sicilian brigands grouped together and gave everyone else a quick cheer. “We’ll be staying in the caves for a rest. We work at night,” said Enzo, and clapped Ninester on the back. “You look after yourself, young man, enjoy looking after your dog and your llama. And remember, brigands aren’t all bad.”
“There’s mighty poor folk around here,” said Paolo “and we need to share out some of the food, and a little secret coin as well. The fishing boats do well enough, but others got no chance, and once a ship goes down, then there’s wives and children left behind, and starving to death. We try to help and keep hidden at the same time.”
“Tutti pazzi,” called another from the back of the group.
Everyone waved goodbye and the captain led the way back over the rocks, fields and scrubby hot land until they could see the ocean glimmering in the distance. The volcano was still spurting small darts of fire and smoke, but this was no great eruption and the lava did not travel further than the sides of the mountain. Deben, humiliated by his magic going wrong, lagged behind with his father at his side, while Nathan and John walked with Shark, very interested to learn more about trading on the high seas, and what pirating meant.
“Them Spanish ships is the rich ones,” grinned Shark Simon. “We steals their gold. But they done stole it off them other folks in the first place. So we’s just doing fair fer fair.”
Alfie, Alice and Peter were walking together as Alice picked flowers, and Peter was singing softly to himself, making up music about the oceans, the volcanoes, and the great ships that sailed the Middle Sea. Poppy walked with Ninester, talking to the frightened puppy and cheering it up.
“This little dog needs more food and a bath,” said Poppy.
“No one washes on that ship,” Ninester said. “It will have to wait until we’re back home in that lovely cottage, and I see my mother and your father.”
“And its poor little leg is wounded, so that needs a clean-up and a bandage.”
Podge marched ahead with the three kings. He thought it was extremely funny to listen to these three men arguing about who was the best king, and whether they were dead or alive.
“It’s the 1490s,” cackled Podge. “So tis not one o’ you on the throne.”
“I have been told I am already dead,” said Richard III, raising one eyebrow. “But that’s a difficult argument to accept as I am walking through the sunlit fields with the sunshine ahead of me, glittering on the ocean. I do not feel in the least dead.”
“And nor do I,” insisted Henry V. “I’ve just won the greatest battle of my life. So why am I dead? Was I killed in battle?”
“You won the battle,” called Nathan, looking back over his shoulder.
“You died a couple of years later. Your son was the next king as a little baby.” But he shook his head at Richard III. “I’m afraid you did die in battle, my liege.”
“As good a way to go as any,” Richard sighed. “But I had hoped to live long and marry the Spanish Princess, you know, and father children once more. I missed my little son Edward so very much.”
“Well, I’m not dead,” roared Henry VIII.
“You’ve not been born yet,” sniggered Podge.
The sun was beginning to sink in the west, and long shadows stretched across the waters. But the two great ships lying there, one behind the other, were clear to see with their busy crews and their masts pointing high.
“Look, my ship,” pointed the captain.
“And another ship alongside,” said Shark.
“I knows that ship,” yelled John, running forwards. “Tis me dad’s. Look, captain, tis me dad’s ship. That be right lucky.” He raced past everyone, waving towards the ship, and only turned as he passed the trudging figure of his grandmother, calling, “Tis me dad. Reckon we’s going home at last.” The ship, her sail down, had dropped anchor just off the bay, and men could be seen swabbing down the deck, sluicing off the salt water, and getting the tiny rowing boats out to row into shore. John couldn’t see his father, but he was sure he’d be there somewhere, and yelled, “Where be Cap’an Crinford?”
At that moment, clearly tired, Arthur Crinford appeared up on deck, heard his son’s voice, and waved wildly. It was obviously a great surprise to discover John out here on the Sicilian coast, and when he saw his mother was there too, he couldn’t believe his eyes. He wondered if he was dreaming and turned back to one of his men. “We are really in Sicily?” he asked. “We are awake?”
“Yessir,” said the member of his crew, looking extremely surprised. “Reckon you must be proper tired, cap’an. Maybe you’d best have a rest afore we goes ashore.”
“Not at all,” Arthur said, cheering up at once. “This is an astonishing surprise. Both my son and my mother found together on this isolated and uncivilised island, miles and miles away from home.” He waved, shouting as loudly as he could. “John. What are you doing here?”
Barely hearing him, John shouted back, “Waiting fer you.”
The captain was waving and shouting too, “This is a mighty good coincidence.”
But quietly standing at a short distance from the coast, Nathan had stopped, and was smiling. “The Knife of Clarr did the right thing after all,” he murmured to himself. “But it got the time wrong. Because everyone was asking for different things at the same time, it was unable to get everything right. But this isn’t a coincidence. It’s the magical knife performing its miracles. And just like a game of dominoes, one thing sets off another, and that sets off another. I hope soon it leads to going home.”
Which is when Hermes appeared, flying fast from the west, as though appearing directly from the glow of the setting sun. He landed on the scrubby black-sanded beach next to Nathan. Shark and a couple of the pirates on the ship’s deck, raised their bows and arrows, but Nathan, Poppy, Alice, Alfie, John and Peter all ran directly around Hermes, shielding him from attack. “This bird isn’t for dinner,” Poppy yelled at the top of her voice, and put her arms around Hermes’ neck.
“Your illustrious highness,” said Hermes, both breathless and now a little nervous “I have been sent by your illustrious parents to find you, your brother and your friends, and bring you all home to the cottage. A great deal has happened that you would wish to know. But most importantly of all, your illustrious parents have become seriously perturbed at your prolonged absence.”
“What is all this?” demanded the captain. “I must say, you all seem odder and odder every hour I know you.”
“I can explain if you want me to,” offered Nathan.
“Surely do want it,” answered the captain. “Best come on board.”
Henry V, Henry VIII and Richard III had all stopped on the rocky shelf leading down into the sand. They looked with interest at the two sailing boats, the little rowing boats, and the growing crowd of people. “There’s not a single fellow bends his knee to me,” complained Henry VIII, “and I can’t summon a single servant. They say I am not even born yet. Well, I simply say I’m asleep and dreaming. What’s more, it’s a dream I don’t like.”
“Personally, I find it rather interesting,” said Henry V.
Richard III smiled. “I enjoy new experiences,” he admitted. “I once dreamed of fighting in the crusades, but that was when I was definitely alive. This is no crusade, but it’s mighty unusual. And unusual is fascinating.”
But at the same moment arrived Arthur Crinford and his bosun, rowing ashore in one of the little wooden tenders kept on deck. As he climbed from the small boat, his mother flung herself into his arms. “Oh, my dearest son, “she cried. “I have been abducted and cruelly treated by the wretched boy who pretends to be your son.”
“Now, now,” said Arthur, gently pushing her aside. Then he grinned at John, holding out his arms. “My dearly beloved boy,” he called. Then, with his arm around John’s shoulders, Arthur turned to Captain Terror. “My old friend Jim Tucker,” he called. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. But now, will someone explain this crazy situation?”
They sat on the beach, getting black volcanic sand in their hair, shoes and clothes, laid out flat staring up at the rich purple, scarlet and gold glory of the setting sun, and comparing their stories. Everyone crowded around, and even some of the pirate crew and Arthur’s crew came to join them, bringing tankards of ale and slabs of bread and cheese. Ninester had wandered off to play with the puppy, but even Deben and Lob sat quietly, trying to understand the puzzling events. Others built a fire on the sand, and buried the fresh fish they had caught, cooking them in the hot embers. Violet, annoyed that her son was taking more notice of everyone else than he was of her, sat on the grass at a short distance, and sulked.
“Nat ortta tell it best,” John said. “Come on Nat. Give us all yer story.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“These days,” Nathan said, speaking to everyone around him, “not many of us believe in magic. But now I know it’s everywhere, and far more than I could even imagine. I found out there’s another country called Lashtang. My mother, who I hadn’t seen for years, turns out to be the Empress. But she doesn’t rule anything, because a family of wicked wizards usurped the throne.”
“Ah, yes,” cried the captain, “like this mean-eyed Henry Tudor.”
Arthur Crinford nodded fiercely. “And killed our good King Richard.”
Richard started to walk forwards, but thought better of it, and took a step back. Henry VIII had not heard the insult to his father. Besides, he had disliked his father himself.
“My mother and father and lots of her friends want to get the throne back,” explained Nathan. “Most of the people of Lashtang want them back too, because the wizards can be wicked and greedy. So we’ve been planning to fight against them for some time. But it isn’t so easy, because of the magic.”
“I shall help,” cried the captain, thumping his fist on the ground beside him, which sent the sand cascading up into his face. “I’ve got good fighting men here, all looking for an exciting adventure. How do we sail to Lashtang, then? East? West? North? South? I’ll raise the mast and set sail, just say the word.”
“Wish I could,” muttered Nathan.
“Tis a hard job to get there,” interrupted John.
“We can talk about that later,” said Alfie. “Carry on, Nat.”
He continued. “My mother has magic. So does my Granny. Even I have a teeny weeny little bit. That one there,” and here Nat pointed at Deben, “has magic too, but he does horrid things and bad magic. Luckily it only works when he’s at home in Lashtang.”
“Witches? Wizards?” Arthur looked very doubtful.
“I bin trying to tell yer, dad,’ John said. “Them big snakes and all, what you think you dreamed, they was magic too.”
“We got here by magic,” said Poppy. “Nathan wanted to get us home to Lashtang, but his magic went wrong too, and we appeared on your friend’s pirate ship.”
Violet, who had been trying to get her son’s attention, standing next to him and grabbing his arm, now suddenly froze and turned away. She very clearly remembered the nightmare which she was never able to forget, where she had been almost eaten by a serpent of gigantic size and had only been rescued at the last minute. But she had always convinced herself that it couldn’t have been true and was therefore a dream. Now she remembered the terrible fear and looked down at her feet.
“Lashtang has a magical ladder,” said Nathan, but he stopped suddenly, realising that everyone would soon think he was mad. So instead he said, “One day, if you want, I’ll try and take you to Lashtang. But it’s not easy to get to.”
“Your story sounds very strange, young Nat,” sighed Arthur. “I should like to believe you, but I don’t think I can.”
“Reckon I’ll believe it once I’m in this Lashtang place myself,” grinned the captain.
“If that place is full of snakes, I’m going nowhere near it,” mumbled Violet, stepping away with a frightened stare.
It was dark now. The stars were winking out, sprigging the vast black sky with a thousand diamond lights. There was a rich smell of leaf, gorse, cactus and wildflowers, and the perfume was carried on the small warm breeze.
Nathan set back his shoulders, took a deep breath, and with a certain amount of courage, said slowly, “I can take you all there now, if you want.” His hand, firm in one of his pockets, touched the beautiful hilt of his knife. He was fairly sure he could do what he said. Besides, Hermes was here now, and Hermes could achieve wonderful things.
“Go on then,” said Poppy. “I want to go home and find out what’s been going on.”
Dominoes Page 22