by Joan Aiken
"Well, I reckon she's lived quite long enough," said Dido. But despite her indignant feelings she could not prevent herself from obeying the guardian. They came to the high stone shaft with the face of Sul; they descended to the terrace below. And here Caradog waited, leaning on his silver-tipped rod and eyeing the horizon, until the delicate slip of the new moon moved out from behind the shoulder of Mount Damyake, with the mysterious, shadowy ghost of the old moon cradled inside it, like an egg inside its egg cup.
"Now it is time," he said.
"Blame it!" expostulated Dido. "It ain't right for me to die! Have you thought of that, mister? You're an old gager; you've lived nigh on fourscore years, I shouldn't wonder. You did a whole lot of things and learned a lot o' stuff—though mussy knows, you ain't put it to very good use. But I haven't hardly done nothing! And I ain't learned much, neither, except the use of the globes that Mr. Holy taught me, and how to curtsy and cut up whales."
At the thought of Mr. Holystone her voice, to her shame, began to wobble dangerously; she stopped speaking and drew a deep breath.
"Cease repining, child, and go down those steps," said Caradog. "Do not quarrel with your destiny. If Sul wishes you to die, then it is your time."
Dido remembered the story that Bran had told about the man who picked up the necklace. Well, if it is my destiny, she thought, best not to make a pother about it.
She walked slowly down the long flight of stone steps and out onto the rock spur. It was much longer and wider than it had looked from above; it took about twenty steps to reach the end. There she stood, feeling the mild evening breeze, gazing down at the waters of Lake Arianrod a thousand feet below. One thing the old cuss has forgot, she thought—there ain't any fish in the lake now. Their bones was lying all over the sand. So no one's going to nibble me to a skellington; I shall just drown. But still, I don't much want to drown.
A red light began to glow behind her. She half turned, cautiously, and saw that the guardian had set light to the end of his broom, which was a kind of long-handled torch. He stood at the inner end of the rock spur, holding the flaming brand, presumably to prevent Dido from trying to go back, should she have any thoughts of doing so. He was waving the torch in slow circles so that it plumed and sparkled. The sight made Dido dizzy, so she turned her back on him again. How long will it be before I get so fuddleheaded that I topple off? she wondered dismally. Maybe it would be best to jump?
But I don't want to jump!
And then, looking up, she thought with a pang of dismay, Blister it, there's aurocs about. I thought they wasn't supposed to come out after dark? For an unmistakable triangular shape was floating down toward her, silhouetted black against the twilit sky; it must have launched itself from a crag somewhere higher up the hillside.
"No, really, that's a bit much!" Dido exclaimed. "Drowning's one thing, but I ain't a-going to be a bedtime tidbit for no auroc!" and, taking a deep breath, she tensed her knees, preparing to launch herself off the rock pinnacle, when she was startled almost out of her wits by a very familiar voice.
"Keep quite still, pray, Miss Twite," said Captain Hughes. "Don't kick; don't cry out. Above all, don't wriggle. Just remain calm, and I promise you that in a very short time I shall convey you to a place of safety."
And he gripped her very firmly indeed under her arms, and floated off with her above the dark waters of Lake Arianrod.
12
Dido and Captain Hughes talked their heads off all the way across the mountains.
"What a naffy idea, Cap'n. A flying machine! How in the world did you ever come to hit on it? Was that how you got out of prison? But how'd you ever make it?"
"Ahem!" he said. "As you know, I have always been interested in aerial appliances and such things; I had considered for a long time whether a device might not be constructed, by means of which, if a person were able to commence his flight from some lofty eminence—say a tower, or a mountainside—"
"But how'd you ever manage to make it in prison?"
"Very fortunately, all the facilities were to hand—materials, drawing implements, besides a skilled and willing helper. But, Miss Twite—I must delay no longer in telling you how creditable—exceedingly creditable, indeed—are the accounts of your behavior during this expedition that I have received from—"
"You had a helper in prison? Who was that, then?"
"In point of fact I had two companions during the period of my confinement. One of them, that dismal fellow Brandywinde, I found to be wholly ineffectual—a wretched milksop! But the other, the man David Llewellyn, known as Silver Taffy to his companions, though a shocking rogue in many ways, proved a most proficient assistant."
"Silver Taffy was in the jail too? Did he escape as well?"
"Why, yes. I do not know where he has got to now, however; I believe his intentions were to enter the city of Bath in disguise. He also undertook to look after poor Brandywinde—though I did wonder whether his intentions in that respect were wholly straightforward and trustworthy," said the captain, sounding a little doubtful for the first time. "We had to strap Brandywinde into his aerial floater with great care, since he had lost the power of his hands. So what use he could be to Silver Taffy I fail to see.... But is it not a capital device?" Inventor's pride swept away his doubts. "Made of silk, you see, stretched over cane struts. I shall take out a patent when I return to England; what do you think of the 'Owen Hughes Patent Aerial Floater' as a title?"
"That sounds first-rate, Cap; you'll make a fortune.... So you jumped outa the windows of the Pendragon Tower and floated away—then what happened?"
"Why, hearing from Mr. Multiple that you and King Mabon's daughter had been recaptured by Queen Ginevra—who, I am shocked to discover, is a wholly discreditable personage—I shall indite a memorandum to His Majesty's government in the strongest terms as soon as I am back aboard the Thrush—"
"You heard from Mr. Multiple?" Dido's voice almost cracked with wonder and joy. "But I thought he was dead?"
"No. I understand that he was on the point of being assassinated—some villains were about to toss him into an underground chasm—when he, very fortunately, recollected that he had a considerable quantity of diamonds about his person; by bribing his assailants with these they were persuaded to release him, and so he was enabled to make good his escape."
"Croopus! Am I pleased about that!" said Dido.
Her position was becoming very uncomfortable indeed. As they floated along the valley between the huge dark shoulders of Mount Catelonde on one side and Calabe on the other, the captain had contrived to pass a leather strap around her, under her armpits, and had buckled this to bevels on the understruts of his aerial floater, so that she was tolerably safe, but the strap cut cruelly into her shoulders. Still, the good news about Mr. Multiple made her able to disregard such discomfort with ease. She asked, "Where'd you come across Mr. Mully, then?"
"I met him in the mountains. He, it seems, had retraced his way from the cave where he was nearly murdered, purchased a peasant's llama with his last small diamond, and was journeying to Lyonesse City to inform King Mabon of the princess's recapture."
"Good old Multiple! Those diamonds came in real handy. I guess he got there too late to stop King Mabon sending back the lake; still, at least they knew about the princess. They'll be out after her by now."
"I daresay they will have encountered her by this time," said Captain Hughes. "When I met her—"
"You met her too? How in the name of Nodens did you do that?"
"If you would not keep interrupting me, Miss Twite, I might be enabled to recount a consecutive narrative," said Captain Hughes.
"Sorry, Cap! You go right on. Where'd you meet Elen? Was she all rug? Was she still riding old Lepper?"
"I was informed by Mr. Multiple," said the captain, "who had learned it by listening to the conversation of his captors, that your ultimate destination, and that of the princess, was the city of Sul, where you were to be thrown into the lake—a most disgracef
ul procedure; I shall write another memorandum about that to H. M. government. Since the matter appeared one of extreme urgency, I directed my course toward that location, having a very tolerable recollection of its whereabouts, due to my careful study of the map of New Cumbria."
"Yes? And then what?"
"I was steering a course northwestwards—one can direct these aerial floaters with admirable facility and precision hereabouts, owing to the abundance of volcanoes emitting convective thermal currents into the atmosphere—I daresay it may not be quite so easy in Britain," said Captain Hughes, a certain melancholy entering his voice as he recollected the scarcity of volcanoes on that island.
"You were steering northwestwards, Cap, yes? And then?"
"Why, then I observed a young lady scuddling across the countryside at a remarkably fast pace upon a snow leopard. This, as you may know, is a beast of considerable rarity and zoological interest, which, hitherto, has been believed to be resident only in the eastern hemisphere, especially in central Asia, where it is found in some profusion. Even young Mr. Darwin failed to discover its presence in these regions, so I shall take considerable pleasure in writing a report to the Royal Society—"
"You saw Elen riding on Happy Patchy? Did you talk to her?"
"Indeed yes. She, not unnaturally, was somewhat amazed at being hailed by a voice from the empyrean. And so was her mount; indeed, she had some ado in pacifying him—apparently he took me for an auroc, for which creatures, it seems, he has an intense aversion," said Captain Hughes, sounding a little ruffled as he recalled the episode. Dido chuckled; she wished she had been there to see it.
"You talked to Elen?"
"The princess of Lyonesse," replied Captain Hughes repressively, "was so good as to inform me of the practical sense and unselfishness—I may go so far as to say heroism, Miss Twite—which has distinguished your conduct; of how you planned this means of escape for her and urged her to avail herself of it. I shall certainly indite a note to H. M.—"
"Oh, bother the note! Do you suppose Elen got to Lyonesse all right and tight?"
"I should judge so," replied the captain, "since the foothills which remained for her to cross presented no particular hazards and were wholly unpopulated so far as I could judge from my aerial viewpoint. I was considerably exercised in my mind over conflicting duties at that point, I must confess; some would say that I should have escorted the princess to her father. But since she appeared perfectly capable of continuing unescorted, whereas your plight, so far as I could judge, was more perilous—"
"It was a right near squeak," agreed Dido. "I sure thought I was a goner. I'm real grateful to you, Cap'n Hughes; I'd never have thought I'd be so pleased to see you! And I'll never borrow your spyglass again without asking!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"So what's the plan now?" pursued Dido.
"Mr. Multiple also informed me—though I could hardly believe my own ears—that Holystone—that my own steward—has been acknowledged by several persons of repute, including King Mabon of Lyonesse, as the returned, or reborn, prince of these regions, Mercurius Artaius Ambrosius, and husband of Queen Ginevra of New Cumbria."
"Yes, that's so," agreed Dido sadly, wondering, however, if Captain Hughes would call the old guardian a person of repute.
"If this is so, it is certainly my duty to H. M. government to report on such a state of affairs, and discover what occurs when the personages concerned encounter one another."
"You mean, when Holystone meets the queen?"
"If a change of government is indicated," said the captain, "H. M. should know about it. After all, New Cumbria is our oldest ally."
"I daresay Mr. Holystone will go to Bath quite soon." Dido's tone was glum. She added, "But we better not get there before him, or dear knows what the queen'll do to us. I saw her a couple of days ago, Cap'n. She was in a real rum state—all trembly, and eyes like bits o' looking glass. You couldn't trust her not to fly right off the handle. The only person she seems to pay heed to is that there Bran, and he was over in Lyonesse."
"Well, I daresay that King Mabon, and Holystone—or Artaius, as I suppose one should designate him—will lose no time in sending an expeditionary force to Bath, once they are assured of the safety of the princess. I learned from the man Silver Taffy that in Lyonesse there are a large number of malcontents from the kingdom of Hy Brasil, escaped from the tyrannical regime there, who may well rally under the leadership of Holy—of Artaius. If you recall, he informed us that he was brought up in that country."
"He certainly better not go back to Bath without taking some pals with him," Dido said thoughtfully. "It's my belief that it was the witcheries of those old hags—Ettarde and the others—that made him sick when he went there before. I reckon they didn't want him back, because then the queen mightn't pay such heed to them. And when he does go back—you never know—the queen herself might take a dislike to him."
"The reality might disappoint her," agreed the captain. "Having cherished a figment in her imagination for so long—"
"What's a figment, Cap? Hey, look down there!"
They had come gliding round the shoulder of Mount Damyake, and were now floating, in icy darkness, above the stony upland saucer of plain that surrounded Bath Regis. Away in the distance Mount Catelonde glowed and coruscated; closer to hand, Mount Damask seemed to have caught the contagion, and was shooting a vertical stream of sparks up into the black heavens to join the cold, glittering stars that spread a spangled canopy there. And down below on the plain, like a reflection of the Milky Way, a brilliant procession of lights wound slowly in the direction of Bath.
"I bet that's King Mabon and Mr. Holy!" cried Dido joyfully. "Shall us go down and see?"
"We had better exercise considerable caution," said the captain. "Firstly, if they are coming from Lyonesse, they are taking a singular route; one would have assumed they would go through the Pass of Nimue and be approaching from the other direction."
"Ay, that's true."
(In fact, as they subsequently discovered, King Mabon's troop had made use of a secret smugglers' route through the silver mines, revealed to them by Bran.)
"Secondly, if we take them by surprise, they may open fire, believing us to be aurocs."
Fortunately, this misadventure did not occur; when, by the captain's skillful direction of his floater, he and Dido were hovering almost directly above the marching column, she was able to recognize the eagle standards of the Wandesborough Frontier Patrol, and she hailed them shrilly from overhead:
"Hey, Sextus Lucius Trevelyan! Have you got Mr. Holystone with you? I mean King Artaius? And the folk from the Thrush?"
Some natural surprise was caused by a voice apparently addressing them from heaven, and the more superstitious soldiers in Captain Trevelyan's troop fell flat on their stomachs. But Captain Hughes was now low enough to recognize the familiar face of Lieutenant Windward, riding with Mr. Multiple in the rear of the advance guard, and so he brought his floater to the ground, exclaiming briskly, "There you are, then, Windward! I'm devilish glad to see you again, sir! I have with me Miss Twite, who, I am pleased to say, I have been able to extricate from captivity."
The whole procession came to a halt amid cries of joyful recognition and congratulation.
"Miss Twite! Dido! Thank God you are safe. Who would have thought of encountering you here! Bless my soul, missie, we thought you was at Kingdom Come!" (That was Noah Gusset.) "Gadzooks, Miss Twite, I am delighted to find you at liberty—and Captain Hughes too!" (That was Lieutenant Windward.) Mr. Multiple fairly hugged Dido in his joy and relief.
"I'm real sorry about the diamonds," she whispered to him.
"Oh, never mind it! The princess got back safe to her father—here she comes now, in fact!"
King Mabon, riding in the rear, had sent forward to learn the cause of the stoppage, and, being informed what it was, now hurried forward with his daughter and Mr. Holystone. They were all mounted on Patagonian ponies, but Dido observed that
Hapiypacha (whose devotion to the princess had apparently remained unimpaired despite being ridden by her across country) kept close at the heels of her pony, causing the latter no little uneasiness, and snarling if anyone chanced to come what he considered unsuitably near to his mistress.
King Mabon hopped off his pony and came to give Dido an unaffected hug. So did his daughter.
"Oh, I was so wretched about you!" said Elen. "All the way over the mountains I was thinking I should never, never have let you persuade me—"
"Anything you want, child, in the kingdom of Lyonesse—it's yours, indeed to goodness," said King Mabon.
"Oh, it weren't nothing," said Dido gruffly. "Arter all, what else was there to do?"
Mr. Holystone was standing quietly behind Elen. A whole ring of torches now surrounded the group, and in the flickering light Dido saw that he was very grandly dressed indeed in a red tunic, gold-bordered toga, sparkling diadem, and sandals with gold buckles. Caliburn hung at his side in a silver-studded scabbard. But he looked, surprisingly, much more like the old Mr. Holystone, and his voice, when he spoke, confirmed this.
"I am very happy to see you alive, Miss Twite. Pray, ma'am, from which tradesman do you obtain your tay?"
"Oh, Mr. Holy! You remembered me! Oh, that beats cockfighting!" Dido cried out joyfully. She was so happy that her spirits could hardly rise higher when Artaius, too, gave her a welcoming embrace and kiss on the cheek. Her delight was so profound that she thought, Now I don't care what happens.
"Well, well, well, Holyst—I mean, sir, King Artaius," Captain Hughes was saying, somewhat awkwardly. "This is a bit of a change, hey? Ahem!"
"I shall always remember, Captain, the kind treatment I received as your steward," Mr. Holystone said.
"When did your memory come back, Mr. Holy?" cried Dido. "When did it all come together?"
"Quite suddenly—about twelve hours ago. It was as if a shutter clicked open in my mind—I remembered the Thrush, and how you used to cut curls of coconut for me...."