Shadow Helm of Glory

by Elizabeth Klein

  He nodded, sensing her helplessness. He had to make her see just how evil Elimas was and how much peril they were all in. The princess continued. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. You are supposed to be my pet—my personal slave!’

  ‘I’m a human being, Princess, not an animal.’

  Her face flushed. She nodded. ‘You are right. I’m sorry. The power we wield over men is a great injustice that should be stamped out.’

  ‘Maybe one day you will.’

  She stared at him for a moment, scar forgotten. Then she pulled her white hair forward to conceal her face. With a swift movement, she slid over to the side of the bed where he was chained. From inside a pocket on her fur-lined jacket, she produced a key with which she unlocked his chain. The neck cuff fell away. Robbie blinked at her and rubbed his neck, grateful to be free of the sweaty iron.

  She stood up. ‘Remain here while I find out what really happened in the woods. It may just be a lie to frighten you. Don’t try and escape. Wait for my return. I will lock the door so she cannot enter. You’ll be safe.’ She smiled. ‘I’ll bring some food, too. You must be famished.’

  He hadn’t thought about food, but he was aware of how his stomach growled beneath the tunic. The princess left and the key clicked in the door as she locked it. At least she was willing to listen to him and help, even if it wasn’t to escape. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the garden. The sun was lowering and the chill in the room made him shiver.

  Elimas’s words haunted him. In his mind, he pictured the bodies of his brother, Belle and Mouse thrown like refuse into the ravine. He clenched his teeth. It can’t be true. Elimas is lying. His gaze lifted to the black storm clouds gathering in the sky.

  Morning Star, I need your help and wisdom.

  What does the Lesson Book say to do when you are in trouble, Robbie? Remember what Faolan said about the Lesson Book? It is like a shining path for your feet, allowing you to see where you are going. It is not like that for Elimas. Her feet stumble in the darkness she is weaving around herself. Do not worry as those who have no hope.

  Hope!

  He mulled over the word. What did he know about hope? Then he reached into his tunic and pulled out the Lesson Book. He flicked it open at a random page and read one of Faolan’s lessons; it was about trust. He pictured Faolan’s wise eyes gazing at him just before he’d written it.

  What can you tell me about trust?

  Ten-year-old Robbie looked up at the old man and shrugged. Tears streaked down his cheeks. He’d been crying again. Faolan handed him his handkerchief, a scrap of cloth from the rag box. He took it and blew his nose.

  Faolan smiled.

  Trust means believing that good things will happen even when bad things are still going on around you. Trust allows the Morning Star to make the paths straight for your feet, no matter how crooked they seem to your eyes. The good thing about trusting the Morning Star is that he is always there for you to lean on, and even though you can’t see his star during the day, it’s still up there. Trust is like that; believing when you can’t see it with your eyes.

  Lightning flashed outside the window, drawing Robbie back to the present. He closed the Lesson Book and placed it back inside his pocket. A storm was settling in for the night, a storm over which neither Caiwen, Elimas or the Queen would have any control. Down in the depths of his being he knew. But would any of them survive when it unleashed its full power? Would any survive Morgranus?

  Would he? He’d have to trust in the Morning Star’s guidance. Trust was all he had; it would have to be enough.

  Chapter 29

  Ferals in the Wood

  Ear-splitting thunder reverberated through the cave as the storm passed overhead. A flash of lightning tore through the darkness with its searing light and remained etched across Dougray’s eyes. He rubbed his throbbing leg for the hundredth time. The chill had burrowed deep into it like a stubborn worm, creating an unbearable ache. Some days the pain wore him down. Yet it was not so much the storms that he hated but rather Elder Robairt, who had bespelled and cursed him with the limp in the first place. If he ever came face to face with him again, he’d—

  Someone cleared his throat. He looked up at the young man standing before him.

  It was Rory’s attendant. ‘Rory wishes to see you.’

  Dougray struggled to his feet, avoiding the man’s stare. He begrudged leaving the warmth of the fire to join Rory and Melenor among the cold shadows. Only the fire’s heat eased the pain inside his leg. The look on Belle’s face told him she understood.

  ‘Melenor may have a plan to find Robbie. I think she knows more than she lets on.’

  Her comment made him grunt. He limped towards Rory and the girl. Reclining on his fur-lined chair, the huge man looked up as Dougray neared. Melenor sat beside him on a plain, wooden crate. Her eyes shone with secrets. Belle sat where she could keep an eye on her. Moments later Mouse joined them as well. As Dougray eased himself down onto a pile of furs, he gave the inventor a tight smile. He had him to thank for motivating the Resistance Leader to help them rescue Robbie.

  Mouse returned the smile.

  Rory leaned forward in his chair and clasped his large, scarred hands together in front of him. ‘Melenor has news of your brother.’

  Dougray looked at her. Melenor gave him her full attention, as if the two of them were all alone. ‘It seems the Morning Star smiles on you...and on your brother. He’s alive and in the custody of Princess Caiwen, only daughter of the queen.’

  Questions burned in Dougray. ‘But how is he? Is he all right? Did they hurt him?’

  ‘He’s fine from what I could see.’

  ‘You saw him? Where is he?’

  Rory sat back in his chair. ‘I know you have lots of questions. I’ve called you to hear Melenor’s plan to rescue your brother.’

  The girl’s dark eyes gleamed. ‘I am one of the palace guards, so I can pretty much come and go as I please, as long as it looks as though I’ve been sent by someone in authority to do a task. The only one to be cautious of is the High Priestess, Elimas. She dabbles in magic, as do all her priestesses.’

  Belle added, ‘She is a Magic Woman then?’

  The girl nodded. ‘I’ve known for many years, but the other guards don’t like to talk about it for fear of being found out. They do their duties, and pretend nothing is wrong, but fear is rife among the Dwellins and they do as they’re told by Elimas. She wields all the power in Dwellinfrey.’

  Dougray frowned. ‘What about the queen? Doesn’t she rule?’

  She shook her head. ‘It’s all a pretence. Elimas has a strong hold over her mind. She can’t rule anything in her present condition.’

  ‘This Elimas has bespelled her with Morgran’s magic so she herself can rule,’ Belle offered.

  Melenor nodded. ‘She is powerful. Dwellinfrey and the palace are well guarded by her magic, which makes it all the more difficult to get inside.’

  Rory cleared his throat. ‘Why else do you think I carry out the raids only on its borders? I’ve never been able to infiltrate the city and the palace. It’s not only guarded by soldiers, but by magic.’

  Dougray groaned. That complicated things a hundredfold. What was once difficult now seemed impossible. His heart deflated to his boots as images of complex traps filled his mind.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking.’ Melenor looked at him. ‘Rory and I have been thinking the same thing: that there is no earthly way into Dwellinfrey. But something occurred the night your brother was captured. He and the soldier were not the only ones to be captured. There was someone else. Someone most unlikely.’

  Dougray’s hands grasped the fur in a tight grip. ‘How safe is Robbie from this Elimas?’

  ‘He’s safe enough, for the present. As I said, he’s in Princess Caiwen’s custody and out of bounds to Elimas. There’s one more thing: she and Elimas don’t get along. Caiwen hates her, which could be a good thing for your brother because she’ll hinder E
limas from getting close to him.’

  Belle’s gaze was steady. ‘Tell us what happened when Robbie was captured. You said there was someone else.’

  ‘We discovered a nest of ferals living in the forest. They appear like us, but they’re much smaller. Ferals mostly live underground and have long been hunted by the Dwellins because of their pilfering. Somehow, they’ve been getting past the guards and the magic, and entering the palace unseen. Apparently, they’ve developed a taste for our food and steal mostly from the stores. No one knows how they do it and Elimas would have them all exterminated like vermin if she could get her hands on them. If they’re caught, they’re killed on the spot by the guards.’

  Belle’s left eyebrow rose. ‘Then Dwellin women are cruel.’

  Melenor nodded in agreement. ‘Anyway, I spotted a feral in the forest and followed him to his lair. He made quite a hullabaloo when he saw me, thinking I was going to cut his throat.’

  Dougray’s curiosity piqued. ‘But you obviously didn’t.’

  ‘I’m no murderer! I befriended him instead! Gave him some of my food. There’s a whole colony of ferals living right under Dwellinfrey. If Elimas only knew.’ She chuckled. ‘They know the underground tunnels—the catacombs—into Dwellinfrey better than the builders. They’re always down there, which explains why they’re so good at finding their way around. But the mystery lies in their ability to avoid the magic that guards the city. I wondered about this myself.’

  Mouse looked confused. ‘How can magic guard a whole city? I’ve not heard of such a thing.’

  Rory said, ‘The magic presents many dangers if you try to break into the city. The Dwellins pass through with the help of the priestesses, who accompany them on their patrols into the forest. But these ferals have long been able to avoid the magic, and its dangers.’

  Something bothered Dougray. He faced Melenor. ‘Then how is it that you have free access in and out of Dwellinfrey at your leisure? Priestesses don’t accompany you. I don’t understand. How come the magic doesn’t affect you?’

  The girl’s back straightened like a plank of wood. ‘Elimas...blesses her soldiers with her powers, allowing us to pass by the magic harmlessly.’

  ‘We’re not here to discuss Mel’s personal liberties—’ Rory interrupted. ‘That’s not important in this mission. What is important is that we get in and out without being detected—with your brother.’

  ‘So,’ Mouse piped up, ‘are you saying you’re going to employ the services of these ferals to get us inside the palace? Do ferals even speak our tongue?’

  ‘They speak well enough.’ Melenor’s sharpness sent the inventor’s left brow up in a prickly apex. ‘Griff speaks quite well—if you treat him kindly. That’s the name of the one I saved. He’s a gentle creature, as are all the ferals.’

  Dougray concentrated his gaze on Melenor. ‘When do we meet this Griff and rescue my brother?’

  The girl smiled. ‘Tonight!’

  An hour before midnight, a small company left the Resistance Stronghold and made their way down through the rocks and into the enfolding darkness of the forest. The storm had abated and a light drizzle fell at sporadic intervals, enough to spike irritation among the hooded travellers. It spattered on the leaves and wood and earth all around them. Dougray peered in silence from beneath his hood as he limped beside Belle. Drifting from the forest canopy were shrieks and screams from unseen creatures that chilled him. Every snapping twig left him jumpy.

  The trees also made peculiar sighing noises, like people breathing. Sometimes, Belle halted and reached out to touch them, whispering in her Elvish tongue before moving on. Then the sighing would grow louder, quicker, like someone out of breath. Sometimes Dougray spun around because of the closeness of the breathing, as if someone was right beside him. He caught up to Belle.

  ‘What’s that annoying sound?’

  ‘The trees are just breathing loudly.’ She looked at him as though he should have known this. ‘Trees are always breathing, but not like us. You do not normally hear them, but here, for some reason you can.’

  The inventor approached, overhearing them. ‘Well I wish they’d breathe a little softer. It’s making me nervous, too.’ He looked like a frightened fieldmouse.

  ‘Do not lag behind.’ Rory’s deep whisper prodded them on.

  Up ahead, Melenor halted and waited for them to catch up. ‘There’s something I haven’t told you. The ferals are timid and don’t show themselves readily, which is why they have taught me a song that I must sing if I wish to contact them.’

  Dougray peered at her. ‘I thought you were on friendly terms with them.’

  ‘I am. But if they see all of us together, it may frighten them away—for good. Patience and trust are important in unlocking friendship with them. Remain here. I’ll be back soon.’

  She disappeared into the darkness, leaving them beneath the strange, sighing trees. They crouched with hoods pulled up over their heads and cloaks gathered about them to ward off the chill. Wet, but grateful to be off his feet, Dougray huddled with his back against a tree trunk. Beside him, Belle closed her eyes, distancing herself. The sound of the tree breathing in his ears was unnerving. Trees shouldn’t be breathing like that! It sounded too human. But nothing made sense on this side of the Horn. He glanced across at Belle’s impassive face, almost invisible in the gloom.

  What are you thinking? What can you hear?

  Belle opened her eyes and faced him, as if she’d heard his thoughts. ‘I am listening to the trees because they are suffering. They are breathing loudly because they are dying. The rot is like a disease in this forest.’ As she turned away, she whispered, ‘Everything is dying here.’

  He didn’t know what to say, feeling somehow responsible. All of a sudden, Rory leaped to his feet. Belle stood up, holding her sword before her. Last of all, Dougray struggled to stand, leaning against the tree for support. Mouse shadowed Rory, wringing his hands with uneasiness, or fear. A moment later, Belle slipped her blade into its sheath as Melenor reappeared.

  Small figures pressed around her like stray children, their singing voices soft and low as they sang to each other. Dougray stared at them, at their furry, pinched faces and dark, soulful eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Small, pointed ears poked out from the sides of their heads and straggly hair fell across their thin shoulders. Raggedy furs covered their bodies. All of a sudden, the forest seemed full of them.

  Melenor held out her hand in a gesture of friendship. ‘Here are our friends. Let me introduce Griff and Runkle...oh yes, and Brint, and there is Ferkle.’ She threw a hasty glance towards Rory. ‘I think you should all sit down. Your height intimidates them.’

  With a grunt, Dougray eased himself onto the wet, spongy ground. Belle sat beside him, watching as three ferals shuffled forward, their inquisitive eyes observing them. Melenor hummed a tune.

  ‘They may go through your pockets. Let them; they won’t take anything. They are like blind people, feeling who you are, in order to get to know you.’

  As the ferals neared, a stench accompanied them. Mouse screwed up his nose. Rory sat nonplussed. Dougray held his composure as their tiny, deft fingers rifled through his pockets. He owned nothing of real value for them to pilfer anyway, but having them touch him set his teeth on edge. He didn’t like it one bit.

  Belle spoke first, addressing Melenor, breaking the ferals’ fascination with their pockets to lift tiny faces and stare at her. ‘Where did they come from?’

  Dougray started as one of the ferals near him answered. Melenor had called him Griff. ‘Over the seas came we. Yes, yes, long ago.’

  The searching hands ceased and fell away as the rest of the ferals listened, gathering around Griff. Runkle’s pointy little face thrust forward. ‘Stowaways were we. Yes, yes, mmm. Always the Great Master followed we.’

  Dougray stiffened.

  Runkle continued. ‘All around us bad magic. Full of it, the ship was. Like the palace, mmm. Bad, bad magic.’

  Th
e ferals all nodded and muttered their agreement in low, singing voices. ‘Oooh, bad magic, yes.’

  Griff patted Runkle on the arm. ‘But harmed not were we. We know. Like shadows past the magic move we. It does not see us. Does not hear.’

  ‘Whisperers are we that’s why,’ added Brint, the smaller female. ‘Us it doesn’t hear, the magic. Yes, we sing to it, all the time singing softly...and whispering too.’

  ‘Yes, sing and whisper,’ chanted the ferals.

  Griff raised his tiny hands. ‘Ah, the Great Shining One! Ahhh.’

  All the ferals lifted their small hands and chanted Great Shining Light for a full minute. Belle shook her head and glanced at Dougray.

  ‘We will just have to trust the Morning Star. I know Robbie will.’

  An excited, inquisitive Brint shuffled forward and stared at Belle. ‘Ahh, the Great Master you know? The Great Shining Light you know? Whispers to him we do. All the time.’

  ‘Whispers yes...’ sang the ferals.

  Belle’s eyes widened. She broke into a sudden laugh. ‘Oh, you mean the Morning Star? Him you follow?’

  Runkle asserted with a vigorous nod. ‘Yes, yes, the Great Master in the sky watches all.’

  Dougray stared at him. ‘Can you help us get inside the palace?’

  The ferals exchanged quick glances before Griff gave Melenor a baffled look. ‘Our help for this you do not need.’

  ‘That is true. However, my friends here—’ Melenor gestured to Dougray and the others, ‘cannot get past the magic safely as you and I can. It has to be done secretly, so the Dwellins don’t find out.’

  Brint slapped Griff on the arm. ‘Rescue someone they want. Can you not see?’

  Muffled voices sang to each other, notes that rose and fell with concern and doubt. After a few moments, Brint became silent and then addressed them.

  ‘Hears us not the magic. Like shadows past it move we.’

  Dougray started. ‘It can hear? The magic can hear—and see?’ He looked at them in disbelief.