The Twins of Tintarfell

by James O'Loghlin

  Edward knew exactly why Dani was grumpy, but for the moment couldn’t see any advantage in telling Bart her secret.

  ‘She’s tired,’ he replied, ‘and she was really worried about you. I guess the strain is taking its toll.’

  Bart looked so concerned that Edward almost felt sorry for him. He remembered how, when he was little and got into bad moods, his mother would gently ask him what the matter was. Talking to her had always made him feel better.

  ‘Just talk to her,’ he suggested. ‘Ask her if she’s all right.’

  ‘Thanks. I will.’ Bart looked into the fire. ‘Are you nervous about tomorrow? You know, the Northerners.’

  ‘Um, yes, of course,’ said Edward. ‘I’m going to scout ahead later tonight and see if I can find out more.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘No,’ said Edward quickly. ‘You should stay with the animals. In case something happens and you need to control them.’

  ‘Of course. Good thinking. You know, Edward, it’s really brave of you to return to the city, especially after your father said you should stay away. I’m impressed.’

  Edward shifted uncomfortably. He knew that he was neither brave nor impressive. ‘Well, hopefully everything will be back to normal soon.’

  ‘Not for me, I hope,’ replied Bart. ‘“Normal” might be good for you. You can do whatever you want, but I’m a servant. It’s not so great for me.’

  ‘I didn’t mean you’d return to being a servant,’ said Edward quickly. ‘I promise that won’t happen.’ He looked down into the fire. ‘Anyway, it’s not really like that for me.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You said that I can do whatever I want. I can’t.’

  ‘Of course you can. You’re the Prince.’

  Edward snorted. ‘That means I have to do whatever my father says, and according to him, I never do anything right.’

  Bart looked thoughtful. ‘Well, maybe when you save the city from the Northerners, it’ll show him what you’re capable of and he’ll treat you differently.’

  Edward snorted. ‘I don’t think that’s likely. He’s never happy with me.’

  ‘You can’t spend your whole life trying to please your father, Edward. The most important thing is to do what you think is right. No one wants to get to the end of their life and realise that they’ve lived it wrong. Just be yourself.’

  Yes, thought Edward, but who is that?

  There was a silence. ‘What do you want to do?’ Edward asked eventually.

  ‘Serve lunch to the King and clean his dirty dishes, of course,’ said Bart with a grin. ‘No. Dani told me about Gildarin. I want to be like her – a doctor for animals. And I want to swim in the ocean and explore the land and do a hundred other things.’

  Edward realised that, if his plan worked, Bart would probably never be able to do any of those things. He didn’t know what his father had in store for Bart, but he was pretty sure it didn’t involve swimming in the ocean. Edward clenched his fist, remembering his father’s words: A king cannot be weak. He mustn’t let himself get too close to Bart.

  Quickly, he excused himself and went to lie down, making sure he lay where trees hid him from Dani and Bart. Tomorrow, the twins were expecting to emerge from the forest to see the city surrounded by Northerners. What they would actually see was the city not surrounded by Northerners, because there were none. And then they would realise that he had tricked them. To avoid that, he needed to act tonight.

  Back at Melindarah’s castle, while Dani and Bart had been on the castle roof performing the operation that restored Bart, Edward had been staring out the window in the castle’s sitting room, trying to work out how he could get Bart back to Cranlon. He had seen a pigeon flying below, and that had sparked an idea. If he couldn’t force Bart and Dani to return to Tintarfell Castle, maybe he could make them want to go back. What if he pretended that a pigeon had come from the city bearing news that would make Bart and Dani eager to return?

  But what sort of news could that be? Surely the twins had friends back at the castle among the other orphan servants. What if he pretended that the city and the castle were facing attack and that everyone was going to be killed, but that somehow Bart could use his powers over animals to save them? If Bart thought that he was the only one who could save his friends, that might be enough to make him want to go back.

  Edward had fleshed it out. He could pretend that a pigeon had brought a note from his father warning of an invasion by the Northerners, and then suggest to Bart that he could use his powers to raise an animal army to chase them away.

  Dani would probably be suspicious, so he would need some proof that his lies were true. It was then he remembered the blank parchment that his father had affixed his seal to and given him. Everyone knew what the King’s seal looked like, and that the King never let it out of his possession. If he forged a note from his father on the parchment that carried the seal, and said that his father had sent it by pigeon, it might fool them.

  Edward had hurried to his room, collected the parchment and returned to the sitting room, where he had found a quill and ink in a desk and carefully written the note.

  When Bart and Dani returned from the castle roof, Edward was almost surprised at how easily the lies had flowed from his tongue, and how little he had had to do to prompt Bart to come up with the plan to save Cranlon from the non-existent Northerners. He had just given Bart a hint here, a nudge in the right direction there, and the fool had thought that he had come up with the idea all by himself!

  Dani’s exhaustion and despondency had helped. Normally, he was sure, she would have been more suspicious, and asked lots of nosy questions. Edward had had to struggle to hide his excitement when Bart took the bait, and then again when Dani agreed to return to the city.

  However, when it had been time to jump off the castle balcony, he had been so scared that he had wanted to back out of his plan. He had been about to confess the truth to the twins, but then Dani had pushed him off the edge. She didn’t know it, but she had done him a huge favour.

  The only problem was that Dani had made it clear that under no circumstances would she or Bart enter the city walls, so on the trip back he had been trying to think of a plan to get Bart back to the castle. Now, he had one.

  Edward lay on his makeshift bed of leaves for a while and then carefully got to his feet, picked up his boots and tiptoed out of camp. Once he was a safe distance away, he pulled on the boots and walked quickly towards the city, picking his way carefully through the dark forest. He had no light, but fortunately the moon was full. His plan was simple. He would enter the city, find his father, tell him what had happened, and then guide some guards back to arrest Bart. Mission accomplished.

  There was one problem. Bart controlled an army of ­ferocious animals. But Edward already had a solution. They would have to get to Bart while he was still asleep, so that he couldn’t summon the animals to help. Edward knew there was a liquid that, when splashed onto a handkerchief and held under a person’s nose, rendered them unconscious. If they used that, Bart wouldn’t even wake up.

  Edward passed a waterfall and soon emerged from the forest onto a road. Ahead he could dimly make out the city walls. The road led to the same gates through which he had left Cranlon several days ago. His spirits lifted. He had made it. He was home.

  By the gates were four guards. That was unusual. Normally, there were only two. He walked up to them, feeling like a returned hero. The guards would, no doubt, be impressed by him turning up in the dead of night and needing to urgently wake the King.

  He held up his hand. ‘Greetings, men.’

  The guards peered at him and then looked uncertainly at each other. Then all four drew their swords and the tallest stepped forward. ‘Prince Edward,’ he said. ‘Ah, I’m sorry, your Highness, but you’re . . . you’re under arrest.’

&nb
sp; Chapter 23

  Shifting Alliances

  In the forest, Dani fidgeted and scratched, unable to sleep. She could tell that Bart, who lay next to her, was also awake, but hoped he wouldn’t try to talk to her and, especially, that he wouldn’t ask her what was wrong.

  ‘D,’ he said.

  She sighed. ‘What?’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  Dani sighed. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Please tell me.’

  ‘You don’t want to know.’

  ‘Yes I do. Whatever it is –’

  ‘No, Bart. You really do not want to know what’s bothering me.’

  ‘If you tell me –’

  ‘You’ve got what you want, haven’t you?’ she said bitterly. ‘You’re free, you’ve got all those animals under your command and you’re about to save the city and become a hero. All your dreams are coming true, Bart. Don’t ruin it by asking me what the matter is.’

  ‘Please, Dani, whatever it is, I can help.’

  ‘You know what?’ she said. ‘You can’t help. You really can’t.’ Suddenly, Dani had had enough. Of course she wanted to tell Bart what was wrong, but if she said, ‘Well actually, I’m feeling slightly down because to save you I had to agree to die when I’m seventeen’, it would cripple him with guilt.

  She stood up and pulled on her boots. ‘I’m going for a walk. Don’t follow me.’ She felt like crying but she forced herself to stay in control. ‘Everything will be fine, Bart, as long as you don’t keep asking me what the matter is. Understand?’

  ‘Don’t leave. Can’t we –’ began Bart.

  ‘Look, you need to get used to being on your own. One day I might not be around.’

  She marched off into the night, leaving Bart staring after her, bewildered.

  ‘What?’ spluttered Edward, eyeing the four swords pointing at his neck. ‘I’m the Prince.’

  The tall guard reached out and took Edward’s sword from his belt, while another grabbed his knife. A third patted him down, searching for more weapons, while the fourth tied his wrists in front of him.

  ‘Stop,’ cried Edward. ‘I order you to stop.’

  ‘Sorry, your Highness,’ said the tall guard. ‘Orders. Can’t say no more.’

  ‘You can’t do this.’

  ‘Sorry, your Highness.’

  ‘But why . . .?’

  ‘We can’t say no more.’

  The guards marched him down the city’s empty streets towards Tintarfell Castle, as Edward tried to work out what was going on. Surely there must have been some sort of a misunderstanding. Perhaps his father had ordered the guards to keep a lookout for him and bring him to the palace as soon as possible, and these over-enthusiastic goons had misinterpreted the command. As soon as he told his father that Bart was nearby everything would be all right. They would capture Bart, and his future as his father’s successor would be assured. Edward promised himself that he would make sure these four guards paid for their mistake.

  He passed through the castle gates, which he noticed were also more heavily guarded than usual, and they headed across the courtyard, into the palace, and up a flight of stairs to a waiting room outside the throne room. There, one of the guards hurried off. Soon he returned and pushed open the great oak double doors that led into the throne room.

  ‘Get your apologies ready,’ Edward muttered darkly. The guards led him through the doors. At the far end of the room a familiar figure in a white robe sat on the throne. Edward’s eyes widened. Shocked, he was led closer. It was not his father. It was the man from the cottage where they had found Bart. What had Bart said his name was? Lord Jasper Randling.

  On Randling’s right, by the wall, stood the tall, strong-looking woman who Edward had last seen lying unconscious outside the cottage. She had a fresh looking wound on her forehead that Edward guessed had been caused by the rock Dani had slung at her.

  The throne was on a dais three steps above the rest of the room and Edward was led to the bottom step.

  ‘Hello, my boy,’ said Randling. ‘How lovely to see you again. I wondered what had happened to you. I’m so glad you have found your way home.’ He addressed the guards. ‘Release him.’

  The rope tying Edward’s hands was removed.

  ‘Bring a chair, Wanda,’ Randling ordered. The woman fetched a plain chair from the side of the room and placed it on the dais just in front of the throne. Randling gestured to it. ‘Sit.’

  Edward walked up the stairs and sat, trying to work out what was going on. ‘Where’s my father?’

  ‘You’ll see him soon enough. He’s unwell, as you know, and I’m helping him.’

  ‘You’re helping him?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve known your father for years. We’re old friends. Well, not friends, exactly.’

  ‘But I don’t understand. How did –’

  Randling held up his hand. ‘First, tell me everything that has happened to you since you left my cottage.’

  Edward hesitated. What should he tell Randling? It was hard to know because he had no idea what was going on. He tried to think it through. He knew that Randling had kidnapped Bart and then sucked his brain dry to increase his own powers. With those powers, had he now been able to somehow seize control of the kingdom? If so, Edward needed to be nice to him.

  Randling was looking closely at him. ‘You are unsure about what to tell me,’ he said. He leant forward and lowered his voice. ‘Listen to me. I drained Bart’s mind. Doing so made me very powerful. When we met in the forest, I had not yet learnt how to use those powers, but now I have. In fact, I am so powerful that I’ve been able to march into this castle and take control of the kingdom. Edward, I can do to you what I did to Bart. If you don’t want me to, tell me all that happened. I will know if you are lying, or if you leave anything out. Are we clear?’

  Edward nodded. He recounted how they had found Bart and then climbed the cliff and reached Melindarah’s castle, and how Dani had agreed to sacrifice all but three years of her life to restore Bart. He explained how he had invented the story of the invasion by the Northerners to trick Bart and Dani into returning to the city, and that the two of them now slept near the castle with an army of animals.

  When Edward had finished, Randling smiled. ‘You’re a cunning thing, aren’t you? Quite your father’s son.’

  Edward didn’t understand what Randling meant. His father was harsh and ruthless, but as far as he knew, he’d never been especially cunning.

  ‘What do you think Bart and Dani will do when they wake to find you gone?’ asked Randling.

  ‘Dani will probably want to leave immediately,’ replied Edward, ‘but Bart will be concerned about the Northerners and what they will do to those inside the city. If they approach Cranlon they will find out there are no Northerners, and realise that I tricked them. Then Bart will probably send the animals away and they’ll go and start a new life somewhere.’

  ‘What do you think I should do about them, Edward?’

  Edward couldn’t see any advantage for himself or Randling in Bart and Dani being captured. ‘Let them go. What harm can they do you? You seem to be in charge here. Bart will have no reason to use his powers against you. He doesn’t even know you’re here.’

  ‘What if I wanted to capture Bart? What should I do then?’

  ‘But why would you?’ Edward asked.

  Randling held up his hand. ‘Just answer.’

  Edward thought about it. If Randling wanted to capture Bart, he should send a group of soldiers now, before Bart or the animals awoke. They should ensure that Bart stayed unconscious so that he couldn’t rally the animals to rescue him, and bring him to the castle. That was obvious. Surely Randling could figure that out for himself? Perhaps he had, and was only asking Edward to test his intelligence and his loyalties.

  ‘Well?’ said Randling, an edge to his voice.


  ‘You need to send soldiers now. Only I know where Bart is, so you’d have to make me lead them there. You need to render Bart unconscious before he wakes up, so he can’t call the animals to protect him. Once you bring Bart back here, the animals will probably disperse. If they don’t, then you can force Bart to make them go away.’

  Randling sat back, smiling. ‘You’re good,’ he said.

  Edward shook his head. ‘Not good,’ he replied. ‘Just clever.’

  Randling led Edward along the corridor towards the King’s bedroom, two guards behind them. ‘We’ll pay your father a quick visit before we fetch Bart. Dawn is still some time away.’

  Two more guards stood outside the King’s bedroom. Randling and Edward entered, and Randling shut the door behind them. On the vast four-poster bed Edward could make out the shape of his father.

  ‘Awake, Corolius!’ called Randling. ‘You have a visitor.’

  The King groaned. Randling stared hard at him. ‘Stand. Now.’

  The King rolled out of bed and slowly stood to attention in front of Randling, dressed in his nightshirt. He stared straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to the two people in the room.

  ‘Sit on the floor,’ commanded Randling.

  The King slowly sat on the floor.

  ‘Stand.’

  The King stood.

  Edward was shocked. His father had always been the one who issued orders. Edward had never seen him follow them before.

  ‘Say hello to your son,’ commanded Randling.

  ‘Hello, son,’ said the King tonelessly, still staring straight ahead.

  ‘Look at your son.’

  The King slowly turned to Edward. His eyes were lifeless. They reminded Edward of Bart’s eyes, before Melindarah had cured him.

  ‘You drained him,’ Edward gasped. ‘Like Bart.’

  ‘Not quite. There was nothing in your father’s mind I wanted, so I didn’t drain him. I am merely controlling him. If I were to release him, he would soon be back to his old, unpleasant self. I’m sure seeing him like this is upsetting for you, but I had to show you what I can do.’ Randling turned to the King. ‘Go back to bed.’