If it had been Cranestoft, he would have confronted her with it by now, especially if he suspected her visit to Dr. Ravensberg. If a servant had taken it, it would have been passed on to the Regent, too. Annabel pressed the shutter into place and turned her back to the window. Her fingers screwed up a chunk of her dressing gown as she paced back and forth, the marble tiles cold against her naked feet.
She stopped by the window again and looked out. Turning the handle and pushing the glass doors open, she wrapped her gown around her and stepped onto the balcony.
It was a cool night and a gentle breeze played at her hair as she breathed in the soft air, scented with flowers and the distant, damp aroma of the forest. It had rained a little during the night and the balcony was wet. Above her, she made out the nearest islands, and the more distant ones in the Outer Archipelago twinkled like tiny stars. What lay beyond the archipelago, out in the inky vastness of the Dark Sea? Where had that ship come from and what had become of her crew?
“Your Highness!”
Annabel’s heart somersaulted in her breast. She whipped around and almost slipped on the slick slabs. Katy rushed forward and caught her arm before she could fall.
“Katy,” Annabel said. “You gave me the fright of my life!”
“Not so much of a fright as you gave me when I got up for a glass of water to find your bed empty and no sign of you anywhere.”
“Well, I’m safe.”
“What are you doing out here? And barefoot, too – you’ll catch your death.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I was just looking at the sky. Day dreaming.”
“Well you can’t have been day dreaming in the middle of the night, Your Highness. If you want to dream, please come back to bed and get yourself warm.” The maid touched her hand to Annabel’s arm. “You’re chilled as a corpse,” she said. “Come on. Princess or not, it’s my duty to take care of you. Back to bed, Your Highness.”
Annabel smiled. Sometimes being bossed about by Katy was the most comforting thing she knew. She linked her arm through her maid’s and let the good lady lead her back to her bed chamber. As they approached the door, the guard, seated once more, leapt up and stood to attention. Katy looked daggers at him. “Fat lot of good you are!” she said, ushering Annabel inside and slamming the door in his face before he had time to protest.
Ten minutes later and Annabel was in bed again, a cup of hot cocoa steaming on the table beside her and a foot warmer tucked under the sheets.
“Good night, Your Highness,” said Katy, yawning. “Sleep well.” Then she curtsied and returned to the adjacent chamber.
But Annabel did not have a good night. She lay awake until almost dawn, tossing and turning, her mind tumbling over troubled thoughts. When at last she drifted off to sleep, the distant birds in the far away forest were beginning their morning chorus. Annabel’s eyelids fluttered and closed. She laid still at last, the cocoa cold and untouched beside her.
Chapter Nine
“Don’t look now, Cap’n,” said Sam, “but we got the welcome committee.”
The palace doors swung wide. A tall figure in full military uniform, accompanied by a retinue of a dozen armed guards, clipped down the palace steps and strode toward them, his boots kicking up sand.
Harriet blinked in the sunlight and gestured to her crew to stay where they were. First up I’d best show them we don’t mean no trouble, she thought.
“Steady, lads,” said Harriet. “I’d rather avoid a fight if we can help it. Not least ‘cause I wouldn’t place a bet on us winning.”
Davy stood next to her, tense and frightened, dark fingers flexing around the hilt of his knife; on her other side, Sibelius was calm as ever, his flintlock primed. Sam and Barney stood behind him.
“Keep your weapons at the ready, lads, but no moves ‘less I give the say-so. Understood?”
Sibelius unlocked the firearm and replaced it in his belt. The others lowered their knives. Harriet slipped hers back into its sheath. Now then, she thought. Let’s see if I can’t get us out o’ this mess with a bit o’ common sense.
Harriet stepped forward, her right hand raised, palm open in the universal gesture of peace. The opposite party came to a halt. The metallic chack-chack of a dozen more guns being primed chunked through the air. Twelve barrels aimed at her. Blimey, she thought, this lot are a bit nervy, ain’t they?
The leader wore a black helmet emblazoned with the insignia of the phoenix. From his shoulders draped a cloak embroidered with the same design. His grave eyes watched her from beneath craggy eyebrows.
Don’t fancy me chances with this grim-looking cove, but here goes nothing.
“Hello, guvnor!” she said. “We come in peace, from Earth. That’s a big island far away. Er… we don’t mean no trouble. We just…”
Ratta-tat-tat-tat! The sand blistered in tiny puffs of smoke as bullets thudded around her feet. She flinched, but stood her ground. Right you are, she thought, her heart pounding even faster than the bullets. I’ll keep me blooming mouth shut, then.
She looked round at the others and shrugged. They were more angry than frightened. Sibelius had pulled his goggles over his eyes.
The soldiers parted either side of the leader as two huge cannons crunched forward, their cavernous barrels trained on her and the crew. The leader walked toward them, pushing his cloak over his shoulder to show a gnarled hand resting on the hilt of a ceremonial saber. Harriet’s blood pulsed in her ears, the acrid after-smell of gunpowder irritating her nostrils.
“I am Lord Cranestoft, High Steward and Regent of the Island of Birds,” the man said without emotion.
Harriet resisted the urge to say, “Pleased to meet you.” She wasn’t pleased to meet him.
Cranestoft’s fingers flexed on the hilt of his sword as if the formalities bored him and he would much rather dispatch them with a few strokes of sharpened steel. “You are under arrest,” he said. “The charge: attempted attack on our sovereign city. You will be kept as prisoners of war until your fate has been decided. Any resistance will cause immediate extermination. Do you understand me?”
Blooming heck, this one got out o’ bed the wrong side this morning and no mistake!
“Do you understand me?” Chack-chack-chack.
Harriet nodded. “Got it, guvnor,” she said. “Loud and clear.” She winked and gave him the thumbs-up sign.
Three minutes later Harriet walked at the head of a line, her crew behind, Sibelius taking up the rear, each of them manacled and chained, an armed escort on either side.
Davy whispered to her, “I thought this is meant to be paradise, Cap’n?”
“Not much of a holiday destination, if you ask me, Davy. Just goes to show you can’t believe everything you hear, don’t it?”
A guard jabbed her in the ribs with the butt of his rifle. “Silence!”
They marched across the sandy oval. Their arrival and arrest had been witnessed. Men, women and children had been watching from the walls. They shuffled away, tutting and shaking their heads. High above, standing on an ornate balcony, stood a young woman who had been watching them, too. She wore a silk dress, a string of pearls at her throat and a silver fascinator pinned into her hair.
Must be the princess, Harriet thought. She smiled, but the young woman turned away.
“Keep moving,” said a soldier, shoving at Harriet’s shoulder. The guards led them to a steep, narrow staircase. It seemed to go on forever, sinking deeper and deeper beneath the palace.
At the foot of the staircase a windowless chamber was dimly lit by wall lanterns. The guards chivvied them along a tunnel. They passed steel doors, barred and bolted. I reckon this lot has something to hide, Harriet thought.
The manacles chafed her wrists. The weariness of their long journey ached in her bones. So much for rest and recuperation, she thought.
“Halt!” commanded a guar
d, yanking her chains.
Bolts rattled. Hinges squealed. Pushed into a dank chamber she could only describe as a dungeon, Harriet’s thoughts were grim. Soldiers locked their chains onto iron rings embedded in the walls. The door clanked shut behind them and bolts thudded back into place.
Insipid, yellow light seeped through a barred grille in the doorway. Her crew looked frightened and depressed. Davy was silent, taking it bravely as she’d expect of him. Sam was jittery, nervous, eyes flitting from one to the other of his companions. He tossed his blond fringe from his face and tried to muster a grin. Barney avoided her gaze, looking at his feet. Sibelius smiled at her.
Fine captain you are, Harriet Howland, she thought, getting your crew into such a fix. Aloud she said, “Come on lads – we’ve been in worse jams, ain’t we? Remember that time the daughter of the Doge took a shine to Davy? Where was that?”
“The Island of the Pig People,” said Davy, grimacing.
Sam and Barney laughed. Davy blushed.
“Or what about the Thunder Trolls o’ Hellabore?”
“I thought we was goners then, for sure,” agreed Sam.
“The Doom Vortex between the islands of the Kush Complex was a close thing, too,” added Barney, looking up now.
“Ah oui!” said Sibelius, his gold tooth catching the light. “But we made it through, n’est-ce pas?”
“There you go, lads,” said Harriet. “Means we’ve had one hundred percent success getting out o’ fixes up to now, don’t it?”
“Up to now,” said Sam.
“Well, I’ll tell you what, Sam,” said Harriet, resting the back of her head against the stones. “That way o’ thinking ain’t going to help none. It don’t look rosy, I’ll be the first to admit that. And right now I ain’t the foggiest idea how we’ll do it; but we will get out o’ here. We will.”
“Bien sûr!” said Sibelius.
Davy nodded. “We have to try at least.”
“We will,” said Harriet. But in that moment, even she didn’t believe it.
Chapter Ten
“Your Highness, I beg you to keep still!” said Katy as she tugged at the laces of Annabel’s corset.
“How can I keep still,” Annabel said, “when I don’t know what is happening to those poor people?”
“Which poor people, Your Highness? There are no poor people on the Island of Birds – you know that! Peace and plenty is what we enjoy. Will you stop fidgeting!”
“The people in the alien flying machine,” Annabel said. “I told you what I saw. Armed guards led them away to the dungeons, Katy!”
“It’s no concern of mine, Your Highness. I can only imagine aliens mean nothing but trouble. No doubt they are dirty and dangerous and… well, they probably carry all sorts of diseases. Deep breath! There! Now, I’ll fetch the dress. You will look pretty, Your Highness!”
Katy turned to the gilded wardrobe and flung open the doors, flicking with practiced ease through the hundreds of dresses hanging inside it. Two other maids busied themselves fussing with Annabel’s hair, braiding silk ribbons into it and winding the braids up on top of her head.
How I hate all this prettiness! Annabel thought. I’m a person, not a plaything; a doll dressed up by these petty maids. I’m only going to dinner! I shall spill gravy on this wretched silk, I swear it.
Katy returned with a dress. The other maids held it up as Annabel stepped into it.
“It’s my birthday soon,” she said. “I shall govern the island as my father should have governed.”
Katy tutted and fussed, shaking her head. Annabel set her face in a determined frown. “When I am Queen, everything will change!”
“Your Highness, you mustn’t frown! It’ll give you wrinkles.”
“What will happen to them, do you think?”
Katy sighed, stepped back and resting her chubby hands on ample hips, she frowned. “Happen to whom, Your Highness?”
Annabel rolled her eyes and stamped her foot. “The aliens! Goodness, Katy, haven’t you listened to a single word I’ve said?”
A bell tolled the hour.
“There now,” said Katy. “Time for dinner. Good food inside you and the company of respectable men should soon set your mind to rights. I worry for you, Your Highness, if I may be so forward. Whatever would your poor father think were he alive to hear you speak that way?”
Annabel narrowed her eyes. “You may not be so forward. You should watch your tongue. How dare you suggest you know what my father may have thought?”
Katy flushed and her fingers worried at her apron. “My apologies, Your Highness,” she mumbled, contrite. “I spoke out of turn. Let us go for dinner.”
The princess hesitated. “No,” she said.
“Your Highness?”
“I shall not go to dinner tonight, Katy,” Annabel said, as the maids finished arranging her dress, clipping a string of diamonds around her neck and pinning a glittering tiara on her head. I feel like a tree decorated for the Winter Feast!
“Not go to dinner? Whatever do you mean?”
But Annabel had unpinned the tiara and flung it onto a nearby divan. She unclipped the diamonds and spoke to the maids. “Get me out of this dress.”
The young women looked at Katy and then back at the princess. “You will do as I command,” Annabel whispered. The maids set about undoing the work of the last hour. Katy’s hands shot to her face. Tears sprang to her eyes.
“Oh whatever are you doing, Your Highness? You are expected at dinner. You must…”
“It is not for you to tell me what I must and must not do, Katy.”
“But what do you intend, Your Highness?”
The maids removed the dress and unlaced the corset. Annabel said to them, “Bring me my hunting clothes, and a hooded cape.”
“Your hunting… surely you are not visiting with commoners again, at this late hour? I beg you…”
Annabel laughed as she pulled on the leather breeches and buttoned up the tunic. “No,” she said, “I will not do that.”
“Well, that’s a relief. But what shall I tell the Regent and his guests?”
Annabel was at the door. She pulled the hood up over her head. “Tell him whatever you will, Katy. Tell him I am indisposed. Tell him I am ill. I shall return within the hour. You have nothing to fear if you obey my command.”
“Your Highness,” begged Katy, throwing up her arms in exasperated defeat, “at least tell me where you are going!”
“I am going,” Annabel said, “to see the aliens.”
Chapter Eleven
Harriet woke with a start. She blinked into the gloom. Sam slumped against the wall, snoring. Davy was asleep, too. Barney sat with his head resting in his manacled hands. Sibelius nodded to her when she caught his eye.
I wonder what the time is, she thought. Must be evening, I s’pose. Her grumbling tummy suggested dinner time. Nobody’s brought us nothing to eat. I hope they ain’t just going to leave us down here to rot.
A flickering light grabbed her attention. She snapped her head round toward the door. The tiny, barred opening flashed light and dark.
“I understand, Your Highness,” said a gruff, masculine voice. “But it’ll be me gets it in the neck if ‘is Lordship finds out.”
“Show me where they are. No harm will come to you.”
“They’re in here.”
The light at the hatch vanished. “I can’t see. Hand me your lantern.”
The others were awake now, too. A young woman’s face peered at them through the hatch, illuminated by the yellow lamplight. Her eyes widened.
“They’re in chains!” she said. “Have they eaten?”
“Orders were to leave ‘em here until…”
“Open the door.”
“Your Highness, consortin’ with the enemy is treason. That’s the death pen
alty if ‘is Lordship…”
“I don’t give a damn what that man thinks, and nor should you when I command you. I will be your Queen in a matter of days. Do not forget that!”
Harriet looked at Sibelius.
“A royal visitor,” he said, smiling. “We are honored.” The others’ eyes were alive again, with hope or anxiety Harriet couldn’t tell.
A key turned in the lock. The door creaked open, and in walked the princess. “Wait for me outside,” she commanded the guard. When he hesitated, she added, “Obey your orders, soldier! I could have you hanged for your insolence if I wished.”
The soldier stepped back into the corridor, pulling the door closed behind him. The princess stood still, breathing fast, the lantern trembling in her hand. Her tongue ran over dry lips. She cleared her throat. “Can you understand me?” she asked. “Do you speak our language?”
“We can understand every word, miss,” croaked Harriet, her throat parched for lack of water. “What we don’t understand is why we’re banged up in this stinky hole – or much else about what’s going on.”
“Who are you? Where are you from?”
“I’m Cap’n Harry. This is Sibelius, me First Mate, and the rest of me crew: Davy, Sam and Barney. We come from a city called Lundoon on a big island far away called Earth. We come because we’d heard all the legends and we wanted to see if they was true or not.”
“What legends?”
“Votre Altesse Royale,” said Sibelius, doing his best to bow despite the chains binding him to the wall. “In our land many legends tell of your island. They speak of a land of peace and plenty where wealth belongs to all.”
“But it ain’t true,” Harriet added.
“It is true!” protested the princess, unable to disguise her shock at hearing a monkey speak. “There is no want here, no hunger, or poverty.”
“Try telling that to them slaves what do all the work for you, miss,” said Harriet. “And who’ve had their tongues cut out so as they can’t tell nobody.”
The Island of Birds Page 6