Shadow Helm of Glory

by Elizabeth Klein

  Dougray wasn’t as excited as Mouse about his find. ‘Very useful I’m sure, but we have to—’

  ‘I’ve already collected some in case we need it.’ The inventor patted his pouch. ‘Never know when it’ll come in handy. Makes a lovely tea, but you sleep a good twenty-four hours afterward.’

  ‘Look, we have to get back! If you haven’t noticed, it’s dark and I’ve left Robbie and Fox alone back at the clearing.’

  ‘Righto. I’ve collected enough. Ready when you are.’

  Dougray looked at Belle. ‘Guide us back.’

  They left the narcosia tree and headed towards the creek. They had not ventured far when a sound of wheels trundling along the dirt road and marching feet brought them to an abrupt halt. Belle’s fingers grasped Dougray’s arm, pulling him down beside her. He glanced up in alarm as silver lights ghosted through the trees. Men garbed in ash-grey tunics and strange, silver masks marched along the road. Bewildered, Dougray stared at them, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

  They weren’t Morgran’s soldiers, so who did this army belong to?

  The floating lights glowed like tiny round moons on long, swaying poles. A horse-drawn wagon approached, cage-like with iron bars. A dejected-looking soldier sat inside holding the bars, his emerald cloak torn and filthy. Curious, Dougray stared at him. He’s one of Morgran’s.

  Emblazoned across his mind like fire were Fox’s words. Could they be the spirits of the dead army she had told them about? In the dim light, it was not difficult to imagine. One thing was certain, they were blocking the entire trail before them! Their sheer numbers formed an impenetrable wedge, through which safe passage was impossible.

  Belle gestured a hasty retreat with her hand. They hastened back to the clearing, where a dying fire was still smouldering. Dougray wheeled about, but there was no sign of Robbie, Fox or any of their horses.

  The strange cluster of trees at the far end was also gone.

  Chapter 21

  Captured

  ‘What happened here?’

  Mouse’s innocent question brought Dragon Slayer forth from its sheath. Belle screamed and raised her leaf-shaped sword to parry the downward striking blade. Sparks flew in every direction like white stars. Mouse fell to the ground with a startled cry and a raised arm. Dougray advanced again upon the cringing inventor, ready to swing down upon his head. The Elf girl yelled at him to stop.

  Then, as if recognising the sound of her voice, his eyes flickered and he halted. Blue flashes leaped along his arm. He threw the sword down and stumbled back, breathing hard through his mouth. Screwing his eyes shut tight, Dougray fought against the monster inside him craving release.

  His skin was burning with power. The heat from the sword filled every cell, magic woken to destroy...he had just managed to stop its flow! He glanced at Belle and Mouse. The inventor’s face was pale and stricken with terror; the Elf girl’s with disbelief. He ran his fingers through his damp hair and turned away, uncomprehending of what just happened.

  Belle reached down and picked up his sword. He faced her as she held the hilt for him to take. ‘Why did you try to kill Mouse?’

  The little man eyed him fearfully. Gritting his teeth, Dougray grasped the hilt of his sword. It was cool, inactive. He slid it back into its sheath and shook his head.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mouse. I don’t know what came over me.’

  ‘Well I do! It’s the narcosia tree! It’s responsible for all irrational behaviour!’

  Dougray glared at him. ‘It’s not the blasted tree! It’s because I had to go and look for you that all this happened. If I’d been here to help Robbie fight whatever took him—’

  Belle stepped between them. ‘Stop this! It accomplishes nothing except generate strife between us all. What we have to do is work together and find out what happened, so we can go after Robbie and Fox.’

  He took a deep breath to calm himself. ‘All right. Can you find their tracks?’

  ‘I will try. You and Mouse must remain here while I look around. Try not to kill each other.’

  Dougray could feel his face twitching. It was not as if he wanted to kill! The thought backfired. He had in the cabin in the woods! His shoulders wilted at the thought and he couldn’t look at Mouse. He sat down and stared at Belle as she moved through the field using her sharp Elf eyes and her light stone to piece together what had occurred in their absence. Mouse also sat down.

  ‘If it’s any consolation,’ said the inventor, looking across at him with guilty eyes, ‘I’m sorry this happened, too.’

  Dougray sighed. ‘It’s not your fault. We’ll find them. The Morning Star hasn’t brought us this far to desert us now.’

  He wished he could believe his own words. It was so difficult to have faith in someone he couldn’t see.

  Just then, Belle returned and they clambered to their feet. She looked perplexed.

  ‘The tracks are strange. Many lines criss-cross the grass. One person rode off, taking all the horses. I think it was Fox.’

  ‘What about Robbie?’ Dougray’s voice filled with impatience.

  ‘That is the strange part. Those trees at the far end...walked towards the fire where Robbie was sitting and then they walked away.’

  Mouse’s eyes widened. ‘But how can that be? Trees just don’t get up and walk away!’

  ‘My guess is they were enchanted and sent here by Morgran. They took Robbie with them and headed that way, towards the road.’ Belle pointed through the trees.

  Dougray pursed his lips as he looked at her and Mouse. ‘We must go after them. Carry what we can. Food, water, blankets and weapons. Leave everything else behind.’

  In less than a minute, they were heading away from the clearing, using their light stones to guide them through the darkness. Weariness drained away from Dougray and he was primed to travel all night if he had to. Whether the power had triggered off a renewed energy surge inside him, or news of walking trees kidnapping his brother, he didn’t know.

  It wasn’t long before the dirt road came into view and Belle stopped to scan the ground. She looked up, hesitant. ‘The trees met those soldiers here.’

  Mouse voiced Dougray’s fears. ‘They must have taken your brother to them.’

  Belle looked at the dark road as it disappeared into the gloom ahead. ‘We can catch them if we hurry.’

  They wasted no time and hastened after the mysterious army. Fatigue soon returned and Dougray’s legs shook from the strain of running. Mouse’s breathing became shallow and laboured as he stumbled behind him and Belle. His thin shoulders sagged from weariness and his eyes looked heavy.

  Sometime later, Dougray noticed strange lights in the darkness ahead. Belle slowed and came to a halt, staring at the formidable marching rear guard. Each soldier carried a tall, steel-tipped pike. Strapped across their backs were swords, bows and quivers, a veritable armoury of weapons. Where were they headed?

  The thought had barely left his mind when an eerie howl rose from the forest behind them, a thin, almost imperceptible sound. Both he and Belle twisted around to stare into the inky blackness. Uncertain of its direction, he glanced at the dark, silent trees, expecting to see blood-red eyes staring back at him.

  Nothing!

  The cry faded away. Without a word, they hurried forward after the army. They had not gone far when the trees thinned and the land sloped up towards the mountains that loomed black against the horizon. Its ridgeline was like a mouth of jagged, broken teeth. Somewhere, the pass ran through it.

  The mysterious army threaded its way up the slope and disappeared. Their swift pace was gruelling, the terrain rugged and brutal. Dougray’s eyes watered from the blustery wind sweeping down from the snow-covered peaks.

  Mouse lagged further and further behind. His rasping breath laboured as they climbed higher. Belle crouched against a boulder as she waited for them to catch up, taking the opportunity to scan for signs of pursuit. With the flatlands behind them now, they flagged easily on the higher ground.
Exhaustion took its toll, even on Belle.

  More howls rose out of the darkness behind them, a crescendo of madness as wolves picked up their trail. Dougray clutched his side and almost doubled over from pain as they hurried on. A forbidding fortress of dark rocks loomed before them. Behind, the forest disappeared and the mountain hemmed them in on all sides. Belle swung around, disoriented. Dougray unsheathed his sword as howls seemed to echo all around them. His chest tightened as the power began to flow. The wolves appeared out of the shadows and circled, preparing for attack.

  From out of the gloom came a thin, high-pitched whistle. A moment later, another answered. Belle paused, head erect. Then she continued to climb. She had not taken half a dozen steps when more whistles shrilled above them among the rocks. Perplexed, Dougray glanced at Belle and Mouse. Next moment—

  ‘Halt!’ Mouse cried out at the stern voice.

  At once, Belle faced the direction, pointing her sword. ‘Who are you and why are you skulking behind the rocks?’

  ‘Why don’t you show yourself?’ Dougray snarled.

  Boots scraped over rocks as shadowed figures appeared. Dougray was aware of the faint creak of stretched bowstrings. He glanced up. Perched on top of the rocks were hooded men, each pointing a bolt directly at them. Mouse’s arms shot up in the air in surrender. He began to blubber that he was just a harmless inventor. Someone tittered.

  Dougray placed his sword at his feet. ‘We are innocent travellers! We mean you no harm!’ He glanced at the Elf girl. ‘Belle! Drop your sword!’

  She did so with much grumbling. Snatches of muffled conversation drifted down. Then he was aware of dark-clad figures surrounding them. Gloved hands picked up their weapons. Someone wrenched Dougray’s wrists behind his back. Swift cord tied them together. A tall man stepped from the shadows and peered at them. The icy look in his eyes made Dougray hold his tongue.

  ‘Search them!’

  In a loud, indignant voice that made Dougray shudder, Belle cried out. ‘If you touch me, I’ll slit your throat!’

  The man laughed. ‘Then cover their heads and bring them!’

  Chapter 22

  Ethan

  A black bag was thrown over the top of Dougray’s head. Someone searched him perfunctorily and his books were yanked from his pocket. Belle was resisting with loud threats, promising what she would do to them once her hands were untied. It earned her a gag.

  Iron hands propelled Dougray along. He struggled to breathe through the sack, stumbling except for the hand on his arm that steadied him.

  The unpleasant journey did not last long. The last part included negotiating a descent through rocks that grazed his shin and a hurried scramble past rushing water. Belle squealed behind him through the gag, but there was silence from Mouse.

  Then the hands held him still before they fell away. He swayed on unsteady feet, turning his head from side to side, trying to peer through the coarse cloth. Gruff voices nearby asked questions about them and there was the sound of more rushing water. A deep voice ordered the bags removed and their cords cut. The sound of Belle’s angry voice as she threatened to slit throats was met with laughter. Surprised mutters came from their captors when they saw that she was an Elf. Dougray glanced about and rubbed his hurting wrists. They were inside an enormous cave. Lit torches burned on iron brackets bolted into the rock. Outside a hole in the wall the size of a large window, falling water concealed the world beyond. He glanced at the men staring at them. Hands shoved him forward.

  A huge man sat on a chair with armrests, wearing an assortment of furs strapped about his body and legs with leather cords. Braided, greying red hair hung across his left shoulder like thick rope. Twisted through it were colourful beads and what looked like teeth. Curious, steel-grey eyes stared at them.

  Dougray stepped forward, but a firm hand on his shoulder brought him to an abrupt halt. He shrugged it off. ‘We are innocent travellers on our way through these mountains. Why have you taken our weapons and brought us here against our will?’

  ‘Innocent travellers, you say. A boy carrying a rather curious sword, an Elf girl carrying more weapons than I have at present in my armoury and a rather short man who claims to be an inventor. A very unusual company, would you not agree?’

  Mouse snorted and mumbled under his breath. ‘Short! I’m not short; just—compact!’

  The man behind him feigned a cough that could have been a stifled laugh. Mouse snorted and placed his hands on his hips. A wry grin touched the lips of the huge man. Using the armrests, he pushed himself up to his full height, a head taller than Dougray. He stepped forward, eyeing them up and down, taking in everything about them.

  Dougray pursed his lips in anger. ‘Look, we’ve done you no harm and yet we’re treated like criminals! I’d like to know why!’

  The man halted. He gave Dougray a look that could have doused a fire. Belle touched his arm in warning. She stood tall like a palm tree, angry and defiant as she looked back at the man.

  ‘Why did you take our weapons?’ she demanded.

  The lines around his eyes crinkled in a forced smile as he faced her. ‘You’re in no place to ask questions, young lady!’ He looked at Dougray. ‘Nor are you. You were brought here for your own safety. Wolves prowl the forest at night. They’d already picked up your scent when my men found you. Your weapons shall be returned to you in good time. What are your names?’

  Dougray and Belle exchanged a surprised glance. Mouse answered. ‘My name is Lucien Miseland. This is Dougray,’ he waved his hand at him, ‘and Belle.’

  The man grinned, but there was no warmth in those grey eyes. ‘There now, that wasn’t so difficult, was it? I am Rory, leader of the Whistlers.’

  The Whistlers? Dougray recalled hearing the birdcalls just before they were captured.

  ‘You must be hungry.’ Rory’s eyes shifted to one of the men standing behind them. ‘Tell Cook to prepare something for our guests.’ The man hurried off and Rory looked back at them. ‘Tonight, you will remain here and enjoy my hospitality. You may even have your weapons back.’ A button appeared in his hand.

  Dougray glanced at the Mouse, who looked stunned. The next moment, Rory tossed it to him. With Mouse’s clumsy attempt to grab it, it fell instead between Belle’s feet. She bent down and picked it up, examining it before passing it to Mouse.

  ‘The Resistance!’

  Rory grinned at her. ‘Right you are. Once you have eaten, you’ll be shown a quiet spot where you can sleep. My men are a little rowdy during the evenings; don’t mind them.’

  ‘Hospitality is difficult to find these days!’ Belle glared at him. For her, nothing had changed. ‘Everyone has an ulterior motive. There are no roses in winter, only thorns.’

  The man cocked his head to one side as he regarded her. ‘True. Nevertheless, the perfume of the lemon blossom is uplifting, wouldn’t you agree?’

  She flinched as if struck by a whip. Dougray had no idea what just transpired between them.

  Robbie stirred from his sleep. Soft whisperings faded away, perhaps from a fading dream. The smell of old, crushed hay beneath him filled his nostrils. He was lying on his side, no longer in the clearing. A familiar, metallic taste coated his tongue; he’d tasted it before. As he tried to move, a sharp pain stabbed inside his skull.

  Where am I?

  He sniffed. The air was rancid with the stench of something burning, but there was also sweetness. Maybe the campfire he’d lit?

  No! He wasn’t in the clearing anymore!

  He opened his eyes and the world spun. He closed them again. It felt as if someone was banging inside his head with a sledgehammer. He was cold too, despite the scratchy, coarse blanket someone had thrown across his body. Head throbbing, he tried to move again and winced as everything hurt at once. He shut his eyes. Not yet!

  Where am I and how did I get here?

  He had the impression of woody, spiky arms holding him...carrying him. Somehow, he’d slept through it all. Maybe that had been a ble
ssing. Grabbing fistfuls of the blanket, he opened his eyes again. For a moment, the walls spun in a giddy blur and then they slowly stopped. His eyes focused on a rectangle of pale light shining on the far wall.

  I’m inside a building. But where? The hay suggested a stable.

  Then he noticed a figure huddled in a dim corner of the small room. With slow movements, Robbie dragged his right arm up so that he could ease himself into a better position to look at his surroundings.

  ‘You’re awake.’

  Wincing, he squinted at the figure in the corner as he turned to look at him, showing a young man’s face, bruised and dirty, with hair the colour of winter bark and bright green eyes.

  ‘Where are we?’

  ‘Dwellinfrey. We’ve been captured by the Dwellins.’

  Memories surged through Robbie’s mind. He recalled waiting for Dougray and the others in the clearing, Fox abandoning them and then the trees—

  ‘How did we get here?’

  With a struggle, he eased himself onto his elbows, earning a wave of nausea. The hay rustled as the young man shuffled closer. ‘Are you all right? You’ve been unconscious all day.’

  Have I? Robbie grimaced. ‘How long have we been here?’

  ‘This is the second night. Here’s some water. Don’t drink too fast, or it’ll make you sick.’

  He poured the water into a dented tin cup and handed it to Robbie. The cold fluid was what he needed to clear his head. As he sipped, his gaze caught the green, tattered cloak hanging about the other’s slender shoulders.

  A soldier!

  ‘You are one of—King Morgran’s soldiers. How were you captured?’

  The other hung his head. ‘I was on a reconnaissance mission when we were ambushed by Dwellins. The others were all killed; I was taken captive. They always capture one. The rest is a blur.’ He paused. ‘My name is Ethan. I’m glad you’re awake. I was going mad with no one to talk to...and nothing to do.’