‘I’ll be sad to leave this place,’ Bitter Olof admitted, a hint of genuine regret in his voice. ‘It’s really rather comfortable.’
‘We always move on,’ the huge man said in reply. He glanced at Lute, nudged the dwarf. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Majesty?’
‘What’s going on?’ Lute stammered, his words slurring slightly. He felt confused, as though his mind had just been twisted upside down.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ Little Thom queried.
Lute shook his head. ‘Something just happened that I don’t understand.’
‘Are you alright to move?’
‘I think so. It’s just—’
‘Listen!’ Bitter Olof cautioned. The three of them froze. ‘Too late. Hide him, Thom; you know where,’ he growled.
Before Lute could make another move he had been scooped up roughly in the big man’s arms and instantly felt himself hauled backwards, once again, into the shadows of the cave.
‘There’s a secret entrance that I had tunnelled for this very purpose,’ Bitter Olof explained over his shoulder as he ran to the door to peek out. ‘So glad now that we took the precaution, eh, Little Thom?’
‘Mind your head,’ the big man growled at Lute as he pushed him up into an inky, cold blackness. ‘Hush now. Absolute silence. If anything untoward happens, or we’re carted off, you head upwards but not yet, alright? Wait until you know what’s going on. There’s a peephole, can you see it?’
‘Yes, I—’
‘Good. Now stay very still.’
‘But what if—’
‘Too late, they’re here! Silence, majesty—your life depends upon it.’ And then Little Thom had left him and gone to stand by the dwarf’s side. He held his breath as the door burst open again.
‘Gentlemen.’ Bitter Olof said in calm welcome as several burly men—none as large as Little Thom though—piled in through the doorway to the cavern.
And then from his hiding spot and despite the muffled level of sound, Lute felt a knife of fear as a familiar voice spoke. ‘Ah, Bitter Olof, at last we meet.’
‘Duke Janko, I presume?’
‘Well, actually,’ Janko said, smiling that mirthless smile of his, as he slowly removed his riding gloves, ‘it’s King Janko now.’
‘King? So the rumours are true?’
‘News obviously travels fast,’ Janko replied. ‘And what have you heard, dwarf?’
‘I’ve heard that King Rodin died of his fragile heart complaint and that our young heir might have been killed during a freak riding accident.’
‘Excellent. You must pay your spies extremely well.’
‘My spies are loyal, not rich.’
‘Well, they inform you truly.’
‘And the Queen?’
‘She is, as you can appreciate, indisposed through grief.’
‘Of course. And you, sir, loyal brother and indeed brother-in-law, on top of taking the burden of kingship and consoling the grief-stricken wife of the former monarch and mother of the true heir, still find time to come after a minor outlaw…in person. I’m impressed.’
‘Indeed. Rodin spoke to me about you. I’m sure he’d be pleased that I have finally hunted down the infamous Bitter Olof and his gang.’
‘Are my people dead?’ the dwarf asked. It was the first time Lute had heard Bitter Olof’s voice lose its composure.
‘You obviously post good lookouts. Most got away. You, however, are the prize, not them.’
Lute saw the dwarf nod. ‘I’m flattered that I feature so highly on your list of important things to do after killing a king, murdering his heir and taking their Crown.’
Janko laughed and looked to one of his henchmen. ‘Put an arrow in that big sidekick of his, would you? Don’t kill him, though. I’m sure he’ll make for good sport in the torture chamber.’
Lute felt as though his heart had stopped when he saw the soldier raise a crossbow. He saw Little Thom take a step back in alarm but he didn’t beg for mercy.
‘Wait!’ Bitter Olof urged. ‘You came here for a reason and we both know it wasn’t because you’d lose sleep just yet over an outlaw. What is it you want?’
Janko raised a hand to stay the bow. ‘I want my nephew,’ Janko replied, as calmly as if they were all good friends.
‘Nephew? How should I know where he is? By all reports he’s dead, isn’t he?’
‘By all reports, yes. But we both know he’s not.’
‘Do we?’
‘I have spies too, Bitter Olof. And I happen to know he made his way to Tarrow’s Landing. I know he was ambushed and that his horse was stolen. The offenders—a couple of opportunists and well-known bandits—very helpfully explained that they left him at the side of the road. They were even kind enough, despite their er…injuries, to show us precisely where. Tracking dogs did the rest—I’m sure you heard them.’ He held up a red scarf. ‘This is Lute’s. The dogs found it helpful and his scent led us right here to your hideout.’
‘How can you kill him, having already killed his father? Your men can aid you to take the throne. He doesn’t need to die.’ Bitter Olof sounded genuinely aghast.
‘Oh, but he does. Boys grow into men and he will always be a threat. Just for the record, I didn’t kill Rodin. He genuinely died of his weak heart, but I’ll admit my actions likely brought his heart quake on. I’ll make you a promise. I’ll make it swift. The boy will feel nothing.’
‘You’re incredible, Janko,’ Bitter Olof responded.
‘Thank you, I know,’ the false king replied, ignoring what was meant as an insult. ‘Now where is the boy? I can even make it worth your while, dwarf. No-one of your rabble has to die here. How does five thousand gold shards sound to you, and perhaps a ship of your own so you can go anywhere you like and I will not send a single soldier after you? You can become a pirate, an outlaw on the high seas rather than in my realm. Sound good?’
‘Sounds very good,’ Bitter Olof replied. Lute felt his stomach clench at the dwarf’s new tone. ‘How do I know you’re not lying?’
‘Bring it in,’ Janko said over his shoulder to one of the men.
Moments later a small chest was carried in. When Janko opened it Lute saw through his peephole the unmistakable glint of gold.
‘It’s all there. I knew we could find something in common, Bitter Olof. It’s all yours.’
‘And the ship?’
‘She’s called Sea Star. Her papers are already signed over to you and she’s fully crewed, awaiting your private instructions as to where they should sail her and meet you. I don’t give a damn. All I want is the boy.’
‘And you plan to kill him?’
‘What I plan is none of your concern, Bitter Olof. Do we have a fair exchange? You have no reason to protect him, especially when you already have my favour.’
‘Better we die proud. His word is worth nothing, Olof,’ Little Thom finally growled from the back.
Janko ignored him. ‘Do we have a deal, dwarf?’
Bitter Olof licked his lips. Lute saw him nod his head and his heart sank. Traitor! He heard the dwarf agree. ‘We have a deal. Get your men out of here.’
Janko signalled and all but one filed out. ‘Where is he?’
‘Don’t,’ Little Thom warned.
‘Shut up!’ Janko pointed at the big man. ‘You are nothing.’
‘Neither are you, usurper!’ Little Thom spat back.
Janko regained his calm. ‘Hurry up, dwarf, I tire of you and your sidekick.’
‘There’s a huge oak as you approach our hideout.’
‘I saw it,’ Janko replied, evenly.
‘Look high into its branches. There’s a tiny tree house built cunningly out of its own wood. He’s hiding in there.’
‘I curse you, Bitter Olof,’ Little Thom said, stepping right away from the dwarf. ‘You’ll die rich, but lonely.’
Janko laughed. ‘What did Lute promise you?’
Bitter Olof shrugged. ‘A knighthood.’
/> Their enemy exploded into genuine mirth. ‘You fool. I’m far more generous. But, you should have listened to your friend here. My word is only worth something when I want it to count. Shoot the giant in the shoulder, that should quieten down his insults.’
An arrow was loosed, zipping hideously across the cavern and landing with a sickening thud into Little Thom, who went down with a groan. Bitter Olof shouted in shock and Lute nearly lost his footing but held on grimly, terrified to see what would happen next.
What happened? Davren asked into the silence.
Whatever link we had was suddenly broken, Griff replied.
It’s likely you startled him.
I’m sure I did. I can remember how it terrified me the first time he spoke into my mind.
You will have to try again later but right now I fear you must reassure Tess. She is anxious and keen for us to be on our way.
Yes, she’s right. Griff blinked, felt the cocoon that the Silvering provided burst like a bubble and suddenly he was staring at Tess and the sounds of the night forest were back—crickets chirruping, an owl hooting softly somewhere, Elph snuffling in the undergrowth for seeds.
‘Griff!’ Tess exclaimed, relief clearing her worried expression.
‘I’m sorry. Did Davren explain?’
‘As best he could. Did you speak with the Whisperer?’
Griff shook his head. ‘I think I made it through to him but we lost each other.’
‘Did you scare him?’
‘That’s what we think must have happened. I’ll try again but for now we should move.’
‘Still heading west?’
‘Yes.’ He smiled at Helys, who was nestled into a sling on Davren’s back and glowing a soft pink. ‘She’s mending,’ he said, his own relief obvious.
‘Cages are really bad for my creatures,’ Tess replied. ‘Come on. How much of a head start do you think we have?’
‘Two hours at most. Tyren will discover the creatures gone just before dawn, depending on how badly his bladder needs emptying. But if he’s genuinely forgotten about Mad Dog Merl and remembers suddenly, he could be upon us within minutes.’
‘We’d better make those hours count then,’ Tess said. And the band of six set off once again with Rix remaining amongst the tallest trees.
24
‘Lock them in here,’ Janko ordered the guard. ‘Post four men outside. No-one is to speak to them. Do not open this door until I return. I’m going to find the boy.’
And a moment later, the door barred and guarded on the outside, Lute realised the three of them were alone. He didn’t move, though, remembering Little Thom’s warning.
He watched Bitter Olof scuttle across to his companion. ‘Oh, my dear friend, I’m so sorry.’
And impossibly, Little Thom laughed. Lute couldn’t believe it. ‘I had it coming. I would have been surprised if he didn’t carry through on his threat. Lo, but it hurts!’
‘Tell me you can still move,’ Bitter Olof pleaded.
‘I’m not dying, Bitter Olof, I’m injured and I’m angry because it hurts. Get everything. Let’s go. That mad story about the tree house will be discovered false in minutes.’
‘Well, it’s a fair walk to that oak. At least we have those minutes. Let me help you up.’
Little Thom knocked away the small man’s arm and groaned as he rose. ‘Let’s at least take his money,’ he said, the pain driving his poor manners.
‘I intend to. You’ve earned it!’ the dwarf said. ‘Where can we leave it?’
‘We’ll hide it once we get clear. Here, climb onto my back.’
‘But—’
‘Just do it!’ Little Thom ordered beneath his breath, grimacing through the pain.
‘The bleeding!’ Bitter Olof whispered angrily.
‘There’s no time!’ And Little Thom all but dragged the dwarf onto his back, grabbed the chest and, with what seemed inhuman strength, hauled himself and his cargo into the secret tunnel.
‘Head up, quickly and silently, our voices carry,’ he growled to the astonished Lute, who although he wanted to, thought it best not to say anything about the wound that was bleeding at an alarming rate.
He got a foothold and began to scramble, further astonished by the realisation that Bitter Olof was nestled comfortably on Little Thom’s back in a sling contraption. Footholds were cunningly carved into the tunnel and although it was by no means easy work, with concentration and determination it was simply a matter of time before they would leave their would-be captors far behind and no doubt angrily scratching their heads for a while as to how their prisoners had escaped.
‘Ingenious,’ Lute whispered to himself, not realising his voice carried to his friends.
‘We like to be prepared,’ the dwarf chuckled from behind and then all three fell silent as they began their ascent in earnest.
Lute found himself balanced on a high plateau, the nip of the night’s air a cold shock on his face after so long in the vertical tunnel. His fingers ached from supporting himself and his legs felt weak from the strain but he could feel an energy pulsing through him. Pilo had once told him that pounding of the heart and throb of blood was driven by fear—but that it was a good thing.
Your body puts itself into a state of fear so that it is ready to either run from its hunters or to turn and fight. It is no different in the animal kingdom, he had explained. That energy puts all your senses on high alert and you can achieve extraordinary feats in that heightened state—but only for a short time, so never waste it.
What do you mean? Lute remembered asking his friend.
Well, it’s a time to make a decision. This is often based on instinct. But make it and then follow it. Don’t dither. If you dither, you are lost.
Lute would have felt lost now if not for the huge comforting presence of Little Thom, who was just emerging from the tunnel.
‘Alright?’ Little Thom murmured to Lute, as he emerged, struggling to drag his enormous bulk over the lip of the tunnel’s exit, Bitter Olof still clinging to his back in the safety of his sling.
‘Yes, you?’
‘I’m managing. We made good time.’
‘It’s obviously safe to speak, then.’
‘For them to get to us here they’d need to travel around the caves—an extra day at least, although there is another way up, if you know the entrance through the forest. They won’t.’
‘Why can’t they just climb the tunnel as we did?’ Lute asked, watching the man stride over to a huge boulder. He struggled to lift it and roared with evident pain as it came loose in his hands.
‘They could, if they could find it,’ Little Thom replied, staggering slightly to the lip of the hole. Blood was still seeping through his shirt. ‘But even if they did, they would have to shift this,’ he said and dropped the boulder down the mouth of the tunnel.
Lute listened until he heard a screeching crunch. ‘Aha, now I realise why the top two-thirds were roomier than the first.’
‘Clever, aren’t we, your majesty?’ Bitter Olof commented. ‘We’re teaching you all our secrets.’
‘Er, listen. I’m not used to my title being used constantly. Can we just stick with Lute, or Peat if we’re unsure of our company?’
The dwarf nodded and Little Thom grinned.
‘Lute it is,’ Bitter Olof agreed. ‘Let’s go, Thom. We’ll hide the money in the hollow.’
‘Do you two always travel like this?’ Lute asked, impressed.
‘Only when it’s dangerous,’ the dwarf replied. ‘I feel safest on Little Thom’s back.’
‘So now we go to this place called The Devil’s Smile? Where is it?’
‘Hard to explain,’ Little Thom answered.
Lute decided the big man was being deliberately vague. It didn’t matter. The fact was they’d given Janko’s men the slip. He nodded and finally asked what had been on his mind since they first climbed into the tunnel. ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence that you’ve obviously lived here in
secret quite successfully for a while and then suddenly the Duke’s men are able to track you down?’
‘I’ve been having the same thought myself,’ Bitter Olof agreed.
Little Thom frowned in the moonlight. ‘Someone has betrayed us.’
The dwarf sighed. ‘There’s no love lost between me and Janko as you know. The price on my head is enough to tempt most and although he said he used tracking dogs I think he had some extra help. They got here too fast.’
Little Thom’s frown deepened. ‘One of the younger ones, perhaps someone new.’
‘Jhen!’ They both said it together.
Little Thom sighed. ‘Never fully trusted him.’
The dwarf grimaced. ‘But Bran did and I trust Bran.’
Little Thom shrugged. ‘Jhen is new to us. Doesn’t hold the same sense of loyalty.’
Lute looked between the two men anxiously. ‘But he could be showing them the secret way up here. Have you considered that?’
‘Not until you just mentioned it, no,’ the dwarf said testily, although Lute felt sure he must have. ‘Which is why I think we should stop chatting and get on with fleeing.’
‘We don’t have horses, Lute. Are you able to run with your injury?’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Lute said, although he was lying. The pain was back but knowing the soldiers were all but upon them helped to deaden it.
‘Chew some more seeds,’ Bitter Olof suggested. ‘We know your rib isn’t broken. But it is likely cracked and it’s going to hurt. Now what about you, my friend?’ he asked, tapping Little Thom on the shoulder. ‘Yes, I can see you’re not dying immediately but who’s to say you aren’t going to bleed to death slowly?’
‘I’ll rip the tails of my shirt and pack the wound for now. We’ll worry about it later.’
Lute felt Little Thom was being far too casual about his wound. There was a lot of blood loss but their situation was precarious and he hoped once they could get far enough away, something could be done to help the big man. And so while Bitter Olof muttered to himself and went about the business of binding Little Thom’s shoulder, Lute chewed on his seeds. He spat out the husk, feeling the familiar tingle of numbness in his mouth, knowing it would soon begin to spread through his body.
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