Chronicles of the Red King #3: Leopards' Gold

by Jenny Nimmo

  “Take care, brother,” Petrello said earnestly. “They mean to make you their prisoner.”

  Amadis laughed. “They don’t stand a chance.” As his black horse began to walk up the slight incline to the South Gate, four wolves emerged from the trees. They slipped elegantly alongside the horse, then formed a line in front of the group.

  One of the chancellor’s men drew his sword. Petrello recognized Chimery’s lined face. Were four wolves enough to protect Amadis? Even as the thought entered Petrello’s head, a stirring in the air made him look up. The sky was dark with silent eagles. They floated on slow currents, their great wings spread wide; there were so many, their wingtips almost touched. Amadis had made them forget they were solitary hunters.

  One of the eagles swooped down and alighted on the bronze pad that protected Amadis’s shoulder. “If they try to cut down my wolves, the eagles will pluck out their eyes,” said Amadis.

  Gunfrid and Zeba shuddered. They had thought that in the company of princes, entering the castle would be easy.

  The wolves increased their pace; they lowered their heads, hunched their shoulders, and began a swift, creeping movement toward the chancellor’s men.

  “Call off your wolves!” shouted Lord Thorkil.

  “Tell your men to stand aside,” called Amadis.

  “Not until your beasts are behind you!” Lord Thorkil snarled, drawing his sword.

  “Let us through!” Amadis demanded. “We have news of the bellman.”

  “Why do you bring ragged strangers to our castle?” called Chimery.

  “They need our protection,” Amadis replied.

  “Psha! Wild children are trouble,” said Lord Thorkil. “Tell them to dismount.”

  “I will not. The children can help us. They are from Castle Melyntha, where the bellman is being taken.” Amadis urged his horse forward. The eagle on his shoulder gave a threatening cry and the birds above dropped lower and lower.

  The eagles were now so near their heads, Petrello could hear the ripple of their feathers. They seemed to suck the air from his lungs, but he forced his pony to follow Amadis, and Tolly did the same. They were so close, Petrello could touch his brother’s outstretched fingers.

  “They won’t harm us, Tolly,” Petrello whispered. “A sound from Amadis and they’ll go.”

  “Are you sure?” croaked Tolly.

  Amadis was only a few paces from the chancellor’s men, but their line didn’t break. Lord Thorkil’s hard gaze never wavered from the prince’s face. The chancellor seemed poised to move, yet unable to give way. He gave a brief command and all his men drew their swords.

  “You are a traitor, Amadis!” roared the chancellor. “Give yourself up!”

  The prince’s answer was a thin, eerie cry. The eagle on his shoulder flew straight at the chancellor’s men; the other birds swooped and the line of Gray Men broke. Wolves snapped at their heels, talons stabbed their helmets, great wings beat on their shoulders, and the men scattered, their swords waving at empty air. It was a cheering sight, but Petrello feared for Amadis. He would have to pay for this humiliation. Lord Thorkil never forgave an insult.

  The king’s soldiers mustering in the courtyard turned to stare at Amadis, their commander throwing a hostile glance in his direction.

  “You were no doubt coming to look for me,” said Amadis.

  The commander was about to answer, when he was interrupted.

  “There you are!” said a woman’s voice.

  The soldiers parted, and Queen Berenice strode up to the three princes. She might have had nine children but she was still beautiful. Her blue dress clung tight about her small waist, where she wore a wide belt studded with jewels. Her golden hair, braided around her head, was only one shade darker than her second son’s. She seldom wore a crown. “What have we here?” she asked, patting Gunfrid’s small foot.

  “Two more children for you, Mother.” Amadis dismounted and lifted Gunfrid and Zeba from his horse.

  The queen laughed. “You’re in trouble, my son, but I told the king he should be ashamed to think you had betrayed us.”

  “I have news of the bellman. Got it from the eagles. He’s being taken to Melyntha.”

  “Melyntha?” The queen grimaced. Turning to Petrello and Tolly, she said, “And, you two, did you catch your brother and bring him home?”

  Smiling, the boys slid off their ponies. “We went to warn him,” Petrello admitted. He could never lie to his mother.

  “Come with me, all of you!” She turned away, beckoning them to follow. “The king is in conference with Wyngate and the wizard. He needs advice.”

  “I fear I have upset the chancellor,” said Amadis, pacing beside his mother.

  “Outraged him, more like,” said Queen Berenice. “I saw the eagles.” She glanced at the wolves. “I suppose they must accompany us?”

  “Better that way.” Amadis leaned down to touch Greyfleet’s head.

  The queen laughed again, and Petrello felt the warmth of her voice making everything right, as it always did. He noticed that Gunfrid and Zeba were not with them, and looking over his shoulder, saw the two children standing perfectly still, staring at the stable boys. Three sturdy lads had run out to take care of the prince’s mounts, and Petrello realized how thin and ragged were the lost children compared to the stable boys, who wore warm, well-fitting jerkins, woolen hose, and stout leather boots.

  “Come!” Petrello called. “We’ll get you some new clothes.”

  Gunfrid and Zeba turned to him. They looked bewildered.

  “Yes, you,” said Petrello. “Come on.”

  As they began to follow, Tolly ran to the queen and asked, “What shall we do with the lost children, Mother, while we are with the king?”

  “They come from Melyntha,” said Amadis. “They’ll have knowledge that could help us.”

  “Bring them along, then.” The queen beckoned to the two children. “The more heads, the better.”

  “Our mother’s approach to a problem is different from others,” Amadis told the waifs. “She is not cautious.”

  “Luckily for you,” said the queen. She looked for the best in everyone. That way, she told her children, people would not want to let her down. Her husband had a more suspicious nature. He claimed it was safer not to trust on sight.

  The king was in the Meeting Hall with Wyngate and the wizard Llyr. The three men sat at one end of the long table, the king at the head, the wizard and the investigator at either side of him. A fire blazed in the great stone fireplace behind him and the room felt warm after the spring chill outside. The three men looked up when the queen and the princes came in. The king saw Gunfrid and Zeba, hovering behind Amadis.

  “Beri, what are you up to now?” sighed the king. “We are in conference here.”

  “I can vouch for these two waifs,” said the queen. “Amadis maintains they can help us. And it’s time Petrello and Tolly were brought into our confidence.”

  “And you, Amadis,” said the king. “The chancellor would have you in chains.”

  “What nonsense!” The queen lifted the hem of her dress and, swinging her leg over the bench, sat beside Wyngate. “Thorkil is playing some game of his own. Amadis had nothing to do with the bellman’s disappearance. He has brought you some news. The bellman is en route to Castle Melyntha.”

  Amadis slipped behind the king and sat beside Llyr. “There is only one track; the eagles are never wrong.”

  “Melyntha?” The king’s frown deepened. “Why there?” He looked at Amadis and raised an eyebrow. “The eagles are certain of this?”

  Amadis nodded. “They’re the best spies in the world. They see where all paths lead.”

  “Hmm.” The king looked at his hands resting on the table. He stared at them, twirling his thumbs. “Why?” he murmured.

  A low rumble came from Greyfleet’s throat. It was as if the wolf understood the king’s thoughts. The king looked at the four wolves and the children, still waiting by the door. “Come
,” he said. “Sit with us and tell us what you know.”

  Petrello, his brother, and the two ragged children moved to the table. As they sat all in a row at the far end, the king gave a light bark and, with appreciative grunts, the wolves ran to the fire and sat before the flames.

  Gunfrid and Zeba looked anxiously at Petrello. He was about to reassure them when, all at once, the doors crashed open and Borlath strode into the hall. Before anyone could speak, the furious prince uttered a long and strangled, “A-a-a-a-agh!”

  The king stood up. “Borlath!” His deep voice echoed around the hall. “You —”

  “Why was I not informed?” yelled Borlath, his thick brows drawn together in an angry line. “Who’s the oldest prince? Who’s the heir?” He thumped his chest. “I AM! Yet no one thought to tell me of this meeting. And here sits the one responsible for our catastrophe.” He pointed a flame-tipped finger at Amadis.

  “Silence!” roared the king.

  The table was some distance from the door but Petrello could feel the heat of Borlath’s wrathful fingers on his cheeks.

  The king lifted a warning hand. Once, he would have used his power to subdue his oldest son, but long ago he had promised the queen never to use magic on their children.

  Borlath’s angry gaze swept across the room and found the children sitting at the far end of the table. Now he was truly incensed. “You let CHILDREN come to your meetings and not ME!” he screeched.

  “Enough!” boomed the king.

  At the very same moment, a lofty bookcase at the end of the room crashed to the floor, sending heavy, precious books sliding over the flagstones. Cream-colored vellum pages were horribly creased, and a gold-embossed cover was bent at one corner.

  Petrello knew who had done it, even before he saw her. His sister Lilith poked her long face around the door, and there was Olga, in her shadow. Olga, who, with her warped mind, could move almost anything she chose.

  The time had come for King Timoken to control his children with something more than angry words, but could he break a promise made to the queen?

  The king had no need to break his promise. While he struggled with his conscience, wondering whether to strike his disobedient children with hail or fire, the queen had whirled up from her seat.

  “Olga!” cried the queen. “Come here this minute.”

  Olga was about to slink away after her sister. Lilith had already gone. But Olga found it difficult to ignore her mother’s imperious tone. She moved forward sulkily, her head down.

  “Now, put right what you have done!” her mother commanded.

  “Can’t,” mumbled Olga.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. If you can push a heavy bookcase over with that clever head of yours, then you can pull it back again — and replace the books while you’re about it.”

  Olga plodded over to the bookcase and stood looking down at it.

  “Get on with it, Olga,” said the king. “We are busy here.”

  Borlath stood in the doorway, watching his sister with interest.

  “As for you,” said the queen, looking into her oldest son’s surly face. “Must the king postpone his urgent meeting while you dally in the forest?”

  Anger flashed in Borlath’s small black eyes, but he looked away from his mother’s withering glance. “I wasn’t dallying.”

  “You are a man of nineteen years,” said the queen, “yet you behave like a truculent child.”

  Borlath ground his teeth, half closed his eyes, and clenched his fists. The queen walked away from him and took her seat.

  “Sit down, Borlath,” said the king. “And take part in our discussion, or listen, if you have nothing to say. Amadis was wrongfully accused. He has brought news of the bellman.”

  “News?” Borlath moved toward the table, but instead of sitting with the older members of the company, he strode to the far end where the children had gathered. Gunfrid and Zeba watched, their eyes wide with apprehension, as the large knight approached. Red garnets winked on his golden sword hilt, blue lapis lazuli on the handles of the two daggers pushed into his heavy, gold-studded belt. He had been humiliated before them and didn’t like their stares. As he passed behind the two waifs, he lunged between them and whispered, “You’d better not get in my way, maggots!”

  Petrello and Tolly glared at their brother, but didn’t dare to speak. The king and queen were listening to Llyr and failed to notice Borlath’s menacing lunge, but Amadis saw it, and so did Wyngate.

  The waifs shrank down a little, but their faces looked grimly defiant. They were where they wanted to be and a churlish prince wasn’t going to drive them away.

  All this time, Olga had been trying to get the bookcase upright. She would raise it a little way, but then it would come crashing down to the floor again. Petrello reckoned she was doing it on purpose. Either that or she had exhausted her powers when she brought the great thing down. The continual bangs were so distracting it was difficult for anyone to finish a sentence. At last, the king became so angry he shouted, “Do it, Olga. Now. Or your punishment will be worse than you can imagine.”

  Olga looked over her shoulder at the king. She remained like that as the top of the bookcase lifted slightly from the floor. And then, with several groans, creaks, and thumps, it eased itself upright and moved into its former position. The tumbled books flew back onto the shelves and, with a triumphant smirk, Olga flounced from the room.

  The king and queen hardly noticed. They were listening intently to Llyr.

  “How could this have happened?” the king was heard to say.

  “I wish I knew.” Llyr wore a grimace of distress.

  “I must see for myself.” The king stood and marched to the door. “You still have the bag, you say?”

  “Empty, Sire!” Llyr ran after the king as he pulled open the door and whirled through it. Wyngate was close on their heels. Amadis and Borlath strode after them, and the children were left with only the queen, who looked as though a thunderbolt had landed right in front of her.

  “Mother, what’s happened?” cried Petrello.

  Tolly ran and looked into her shocked face. “Tell us.”

  “The crystal,” she murmured. “It’s gone.”

  “But I saw the crystals, all of them, on Llyr’s table, only this morning,” said Petrello.

  “The others are there.” The queen shook her head. “But the Seeing Crystal is gone.”

  Petrello realized what she was saying. The wizards had a small, flat crystal, the size of a man’s hand. They kept it hidden, but he had seen it once among Llyr’s magical effects. When the wizard held it up to the window, sunlight had blazed through it, bathing the walls of the aerie with a thousand dancing colors. And then, at a word from Llyr, the light and the colors had formed an image on the wall. Petrello saw animals drinking from a forest pond, and then a market had appeared, where people hurried back and forth with bags and baskets. This picture was replaced by another: soldiers drilling in a castle courtyard.

  “That crystal,” said Petrello.

  “The Seeing Crystal.” The queen rubbed her forehead with long, pale fingers.

  Gunfrid and Zeba had crept closer. Aware that something had gone badly wrong, Gunfrid asked, “What’s happened? Ain’t we safe no more?”

  The queen smiled at him as she stood up. “Of course you’re safe. Petrello will tell you — I must go to the aerie. The wizards might be mistaken, they could have overlooked …” She moved swiftly and carried the rest of her words through the door where they were lost in the sounds of a growing commotion.

  Gunfrid looked at Petrello. “What is a Seeing Crystal? Tell us.”

  Petrello hesitated. He had always considered the crystal to be a precious secret, and yet everyone in the castle knew of it and was comforted by the safety it provided. What harm could it do, to let the orphans know about it?

  “It’s a crystal that shows the wizards what is happening outside the castle. They can see an enemy approach, soldiers on the move, things tha
t might harm us.”

  “They can see into the deep forest,” Tolly added, “and inside castles with walls thicker than this.” He spread his arms as wide as they would go. “And into the thunderclouds, and under the ground.”

  Gunfrid’s mouth dropped open and Zeba’s gray eyes looked ready to pop out of her head.

  “It’s mostly soldiers and spies that the wizards are watching for,” said Petrello. “So they can go out and cast their spells around the castle to make it disappear. But before they do that, they have to tell the bellman to warn us all.”

  “Because the spells throw us into the air,” Tolly explained.

  “We float,” Petrello clarified.

  “I’d like that,” said Zeba.

  “Me too,” said Gunfrid, “unless I banged me head on the ceiling.”

  “Hence the warning bell,” Petrello stated.

  “But not today,” said a voice, and Guanhamara swung through the door. Behind her came her friend Elin, a tall girl with russet curls and large blue eyes.

  “Friar Gereint’s been asking for you,” Guanhamara told her brothers. “And who are these strangers?”

  Zeba went up to Guanhamara and touched her dress, pinching the soft blue material between mud-stained fingers. “What mighty fine clothes,” marveled the girl.

  Guanhamara beamed at her. “I’ll find you some clothes just like mine,” she said, taking the girl’s hands.

  “Where have you come from, you poor thing?” asked Elin.

  “Castle Melyntha, ma’am,” murmured Zeba.

  “Not ma’am,” said Elin. “Just Elin.”

  Petrello was eager to follow the queen. Leaving the children with his brother and sister, he ran to the aerie. But the king was already gone.

  The queen was sitting with her arm around Eri. The old man held his head in his hands while he ground his teeth and uttered obscure and ancient oaths.

  Petrello’s presence was ignored.

  Enid, the dragon, waddled around the room, emitting hot snorts of distress and constantly getting in Llyr’s way as he ran around, turning over caskets, lifting rugs, and feeling in the pockets of the different robes that hung on the aerie walls.