“The brigands may take longer,” said Alice.
“If they’re already in prison or in the middle of some sort of attack, then leave them be,” said Messina. “Only wait for them for one week. Anything longer and we stand a risk of losing everything. Clebbster can also organise system into chaos, and chaos into an organised system. We have to be ready before he is.”
“Then bring paper and bring pens,” insisted Granny, “and we start immediately. The muster has to start within two days, then seven for the actual work itself. Winter is coming to an end, since it’s short enough in Lashtang. On the first day of spring, we meet at Bymion Village.”
They shuffled around the kitchen table, each with paper, pens, Granny with her purple framed glasses tight up on her nose for once, and everybody eager to get the organising finished so they could start dinner.
Alice and Alfie left first. They set off for Bymion and asked Captain Jim if he’d like to be first on the muster. “Your brigand friends,” explained Alfie. “I reckon they’d want you there to tell them all about it. We’re getting Hermes too, if you remember him, but with three of us we’ll have to use the ladder.”
Called by Sherdam, the ladder dutifully arrived with its feet in the sprawl of the back garden, and everyone, amidst goodbyes, good wishes and the waving of the flags made for the tournament, began the climb.
“Well, well, welcome back,” said the ladder with a wiggle of both sides. “Nice to see you back. Where to this time?”
“First to my house in Bishopsgate, medieval London,” said Alice. “But could you come right into my biggest room and just call Hermes? Because then we want to go on to somewhere else. Please? It would be very kind, thank you.” She had learned long since that extreme politeness was essential with the ladder, or it ended up sticking out thorns or slugs.
“I shall oblige,” said the ladder. “A polite request deserves a polite response.” However, there was a slight pause, and the ladder added, “But I don’t want any nasty surprises at the end.”
“No surprises, not good nor bad,” said Alfie. “First tis Lady Alice’s house. Then tis on to Sicily same day, same month, same year.”
Jim, who had dropped the pirate name now, said, “Never met a talking ladder before. Most interesting.”
This pleased the ladder who gave a little bounce, shook its rungs, and made everyone hang on tight. “How about a whoosh?” it asked. “I’m in a good mood. Here goes.”
Immediately the whole ladder and its three passengers disappeared from sight.
Granny was next. She had dressed carefully for her visit to Clebbster. Since he was always a drifting shadow in long black silk, Granny now wore bright orange velvet. She even remembered to take her apron off and dust the flour from her hands. Indeed, she looked very regal in a flowing orange velvet coat with black embroidery on the sleeves, and silver buttons, but which was open to show a long pale sunshine skirt and a bright yellow velvet jumper. Her glasses, very prim, stayed in place, and her white hair was neat with tiny curls over her ears. She even wore earrings, which was rare. Huge diamonds, of course.
Sherdam looked at her in surprise. “Magnificent, my dear Altabella,” he murmured. “You really look like an elegant and royal queen.”
“Pooh,” said Granny. “But I want to impress all those ridiculous wizards.”
With a quick goodbye, both of them shot off to Pickles, where they would stay with Ferdinand while visiting Clebbster and the black palace.
Next, Tryppa, smiling at both Peter and Poppy. “I’ll take you straight to Sparkan,” she said, “and we’ll stay together up there, just in case. But we have four separate duties, all of them mustering, but with different methods. First the dragons. With them we’ll go directly through the existing friends, and ask them to gather all the others. The lava wolves will need careful handling. I’ll create food, and as they gather, speak of the bad treatment they’ve received, and how all that will change under the Octobrs. Then food will no longer be a problem., I’ll make a speech. You two should search out any you’ve already come to know. Then we’ll approach the lake and the Quosters. Naturally Nathan, you start with Laksta and Hexaconda, but many of the serpents are enemies. We’ll have to be careful and come up with a strategy which is pliable enough to change according to circumstances. But Hexaconda will probably help.”
“And lastly the whooshabouts,” grinned Poppy. “But only if we find any. They hide.”
“Shout. Offer bribes,” Peter laughed.”
Tryppa laughed. “It’s not shouting, it’s music which will help us,” she said. “Peter, you know the Sparkan songs, especially their National Anthem. The wolves and the dragons love that music. We shall have to see if we can play something to tempt the Quosters and the whooshabouts as well.” She took the hands of the other two, all raised high, and promptly disappeared.
“Everyone,” sighed Bayldon, “is leaving me behind. An emperor with no magic. Most humiliating.”
“You’re the one with common sense,” said Nathan, who sometimes felt the same about himself. “And that’s the most important of all.”
Messina stepped forwards, blowing him a kiss. “You’ll never be abandoned, my dear,” she said. “We’re off to Peganda, the biggest muster of all. And I hope to find Jassle and Ombud and Ventos as well, and we have other talented friends staying there too.”
“We could take Columbus,” grinned Bayldon, “since he’s good at navigation.”
“Henry V asked to come too,” nodded Messina. “And we’ve no time to lose. Pack a bag for each of us, my dear, and I shall conjure up a map of the city.”
They left within the hour, Columbus clutching the large folded map, and Henry V back in his favourite armour.
There was one other small group impatient to leave. Zakmeister, with Sam close at his side as usual, was standing in front of Nathan, both his hands on Nathan’s shoulders. “None of us have ever been to the meteor before,” he said. “It’s as new to me as it will be to you. And, as we know, we parted last time in a bad mood. Passleram wasn’t at all pleased with us, having protected this glass jar for a considerable time before discovering that it held nothing of value at all. Poor parrot.” He grinned. “But I hope he’s got enough sense to know we now have to get rid of the Hazletts before we can deal with Yaark. And we need allies. Let’s get up there and see what we can achieve.”
“I’m ready,” said Nathan. In fact, he was excited. This was a whole new adventure. “And we can hop from one to the other. There’s quite a lot of meteors up there.”
“We shall do whatever we can,” Zakmeister agreed, and within seconds they had gone.
The cottage was almost empty.
“I knows where I’s going,” John grinned at Arthur, “and I’s hoping me dad’ll wanna come wiv me.”
“Anywhere, my boy,” Arthur grinned back.
“I have a strong idea,” said Richard III with a firm nod, “where you intend on going. It’s the heart of the Forest of Sharr you have spoken of many times. I should like to accompany you. Would that be possible?”
“Most certainly, your grace,” said Arthur, honoured. “But we need someone else to transport us, and all those with magic skills have left.”
“Reckon I can call the sky bus,” said John, and went outside to try.
The sky-train arrived at the second attempt. “All aboard,” called the leading seagulls. “No time to lose. We like to keep to schedule.”
Already a little plump rabbit sat rather huddled and uncomfortable on the back seat, and a small group of townsfolk were chattering right in the middle. “There be three of us,” said John, climbing on and clutching the overhead chain, “and we wants the Forest o’ Sharr.”
Arthur and Richard looked somewhat dubious. “Is it safe?” asked Arthur.
“Tis safer than ships,” John assured him. “I done travel in this plenty o’ times.”
This was a slight exaggeration, and as Arthur and Richard climbed on and sat down on two sw
inging seats next to each other, they clung on with obvious doubts. As the sky-train rose up, flying high with the ringing of small bells and the jingling of the chains, they were almost tempted to cling to each other.
Henry VIII sat on the garden bench, his legs stretched comfortably out in the sunshine, and yawned, clasped his hands over the swell of his stomach, and felt very pleased with himself. He had made a mighty and brilliant figure during the recent tournament and knew that even some of the enemy side had been impressed. Now everyone had gone off for their busy mustering, leaving Harry in peace. He looked down and saw that all around him on the grass sat a variety of animals who expected him to look after them. There was a one-eared cat and three slightly smaller cats in different colours. There were three llamas, one large and two babies, who were all happily chewing the weeds. An echidna was sitting placidly under his bench, and a many-legged wobbly jelly thing was watching from the kitchen doorway.
Henry nodded to Jellywop. “Dinner,” he said. “It’s way past breakfast time so it must be dinner time. Roast beef and turnips. Then rhubarb pie and custard. And don’t take too long.”
The jelly-ox trotted back into the kitchen, and Henry smiled very widely to himself with a deep exhale of contentment.
At some distance away on the southern coast of Lashtang above the fishing village of Pickles, there was a good deal of activity in the huge black marble building on the cliffs. Spring was approaching and there was a great deal to be done before that.
Sitting in the make-shift throne, now named the Throne of Fate, Clebbster Hazlett was muttering to himself. Although his body had been broken many times and he now found walking or even standing difficult, his magic had grown both blacker and stronger.
“She spoke of trial by magic,” he cackled to himself. “Oh yes, indeed magic will be her trial. The power I have at my fingertip is greater than all the magic in both of her hands.”
Although he had never discovered what had happened to Deben and Krillester, he had no great interest in their disappearance. Nor was he shaken by the death of his son Wagster. He had a son left, who looked the same. He did not miss the other. He had never actually known which had been born first and was therefore the elder by some minutes, for once born they had looked so identical, he had been unable to distinguish Wagster from Brewster. He had rarely called them by name for this reason, and on different occasions had told them both they were the elder son, due to inherit the rule of Lashtang. Whichever had come first into the world, it might have been the other. They might have been muddled up a hundred times when very young and unable to be sure of their own names.
Brewster, however, now the only one left, was usually absent and even more so since Wagster’s death. This did not please Clebbster. Already his wife and daughter, usually slouching about in a hot bath or a pool anyway, had now returned to Sparkan and had done a nasty job of kicking him around before they left. But since he had never wanted affectionate company, this didn’t upset him too much either. Only stupid snakes after all.
Instead he was surrounded by the greatest wizarding emperors of the past, and all were firmly on his side. Naturally they had no choice.
He clapped his long-fingered hands, summoning the men around him. Shouting, “Attention,” Clebbster waited for the others to cluster around. No Brewster, he noted as usual. But the others hurried close. “The dim-witted old woman Altabella Octobr,” he told them, “who came here this morning and had the effrontery to challenge me to trial by magic, has long been a plague to me. I know her magic is well practised, but it is nowhere as strong as my own. I shall beat the old witch easily during the trial itself. But it is not enough. While this trial takes place out on the tournament ground they build beyond this palace, I intend the war to start. Most of their people will be attending the challenge. Her foolish supporters will be standing watching, cheering and making fools of themselves. But while they are all busy attending a Circus of no importance, I expect the real fighting to begin. With swords, with bombs, and with magic, I order all the Octobr supporters to be wiped from the land. Drown them, sweep them off into the clouds, burn them and leave them headless. I want everyone destroyed, and only our own supporters left.”
Mimester and his son Sackster, early fair-haired wizards, were almost dancing. “If all their fools are at the trial, we’ll have almost no one left to fight. We can enjoy destroying the few we find,” Sackster said.
Deben’s son, skinny and black haired Jallister, frowned. “It can’t be that easy. They have almost the whole country on their side. They simply can’t all get to the trial. We’ll still have to fight while outnumbered.”
“Possibly,” said Clebbster, “but it will still take out the stronger magicians, and halve our enemies. We can finish the others off later, once I beat the old witch and kill her off.”
“Messina will survive,” Dragster said, scratching his bearded chin. “She’s the strongest. Lucky she’s not doing the challenge. You might not beat her.”
“How dare you,” screeched Clebbster, rising from his throne and then collapsing, pale faced. “I am stronger than those two feeble women together. You don’t suspect how strong I’ve become,” He sneered, “Shall I show you?”
Dragster shrank back. He shook his head. “Almighty emperor,” he mumbled, “I trust your mighty power.”
Clebbster wiped his own spit from the black silk collar of his coat. Since the multiple breaking of his jaw, even though now healed, he found speaking clearly somewhat difficult, and spat his words.
“So we attend the great challenge of magic on the first day of spring,” summarised Lester, moving to the front of the crowd. “But most of our legions will remain waiting outside Peganda, and gradually we leave the parade ground, hurrying off to lead our men into battle. While you, my lord, challenge, cripple and finally kill the old Octobr witch, the rest of us will be secretly winning the war. Peganda will be ours within the hour. We shall then move on to the other townships and villages, until eventually we come back victorious to Pickles.”
“I think we should take the battle to Sparkan,” said Fester, Lester’s son, taller and well-muscled. “There were mighty warriors there when I was a boy. I travelled there often. I killed many wolves, and played with the dragons. I had great sport hunting the rabbits and other creatures, but the dragons became friends. There were no serpents as the Quosters still lived in the forest at that time.”
“Go there,” Clebbster turned, facing him. “But be careful whom you kill. Many of the serpents are my friends, and also some of the wolves. The rabbits are of no use to either side. But the dragons – I cannot be sure. But don’t kill until you know what side they take.”
“I’ll go with him,” said Wellister, who was his son. “And I’ll lead a small troop of our mercenaries.”
They were interrupted by three men running into the vast chamber. They stopped abruptly, bowing in front of the ramshackle throne. Their leader was Tallister, a short fair-haired Hazlett from five hundred years ago, who blurted out, “My lord, the meteors! There’s a cluster of them up in the sky above Clarr. Ten, or more, I’d say, though they keep revolving and can’t be counted. But they’ve moved close, where they never used to be before.”
“Clearly,” said the next man, “they’re being bribed to join the battles. Why else would they come close?”
“Just to watch?”
“No one watches without becoming involved.”
Clebbster leaned forwards, clenching and unclenching his crooked fingers. “That is where the stars come from. The home of Yaark. But Yaark, as we know, has been imprisoned. I had the beast, but it was stolen by those wretched Octobrs. They still have Yaark safe.”
It was Jallister who shook his head. “I heard a rumour. Yaark is free, and entered one of the great wild tigers.”
“Rubbish,’ Clebbster spat. “I had the beast trapped. Even the Octobrs aren’t stupid enough to let it go.”
“So someone,” another said, “at least two of us nee
d to travel up to the meteors, and make sure they do not take the side of the old witches.”
Several of the Hazlett emperors stepped forwards. “No,” Clebbster croaked. “Just two of you. I can’t afford to lose my most important men. You, Libester. And Dragster, you have a good voice. Talk them around. We need allies.”
“Which of our enemies have gone up there?” Wellister demanded.
Tallister shook his head. “I’m not sure. But that brat of an empole is one of them I think.”
Clebbster grinned suddenly and clapped his hands. “Good. That’s one of the worst. I want him dead. Him, the old witch, and their leader Messina. Those three should be trampled and executed, or killed by magic. Once they are dead, and we show their remains to prove it, we have won the battle without more trouble.”
“Very well, I shall go with pleasure,” said Libester. “And you with me, Dragster.”
“And we will go too,” said a small voice from high above. Clebbster and the others stared upwards, smiling. Floating over their heads between the vaulted ceiling beams were three small coloured stars, one pink, one black and one green.
Chapter Eighteen
Zakmeister held Sam’s hand, Nathan at his side, as they stared out across the dark rocky landscape. At first it seemed bleak with a rough burnt smell of old Sulphur. Brown scrub and dark thorned grasses tufted up between the rocks.
“869 didn’t smell like this when it was down on Lashtang,” said Nathan. “It stinks, like someone has a bonfire.”
“I imagine this is the normal meteor smell,” said Zakmeister. “When it landed on firm land, it wasn’t flying around anymore, and the smell stopped. But it’s not smells we’re after – it’s the people. Parrots, stars, and anyone else wandering around.”
Yet they could see no one, and nothing moved except the grasses in the wind. Above them the clouds whizzed by, but they didn’t know whether this meant they were travelling fast themselves, or whether they moved slowly and only the clouds were caught in the wind. So they wandered across the barren soil, and Sam kept calling.
Hide & Seek Page 21