The Highlanders

by Stuart Daly

  They continued in this manner for the next four pillars – Roland and Caspan leading the way, helping Sara and Lachlan land safely on the columns – and were making steady progress, until Roland drew their attention to the names on the next row of columns. The rocks had been so worn with age that it was impossible to read them.

  ‘This isn’t good.’ Sara tried to position her lantern to offer the best possible light in which to analyse the inscriptions. ‘I can’t tell what they are.’

  Caspan knelt at the edge of the column and stared at the distant podium. They were so close now. Nothing was going to stop him from making his way across the last six pillars.

  ‘We have a one in three chance of finding the correct column,’ he commented. ‘We’re just going to have to pick one and hope for the best.’

  He knew this wasn’t going to go down well with Sara, considering her analytical approach to every obstacle she confronted. She stared stubbornly at the faded inscriptions, refusing to give up. ‘Surely there must be some other way?’

  ‘Caspan’s right,’ Lachlan said grimly. ‘We’re going to have to guess our way across the next row.’

  Caspan rose to his feet. ‘We’ll go with the middle one.’

  ‘Why?’ Sara stared at the column in question.

  He shrugged. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Ask a stupid question,’ Sara mumbled under her breath. She chewed her fingernails nervously. ‘I’m not sure about this. Why don’t we try to work out some other way to get across? Remember; there’s no time limit on this challenge. We can take as long as we need.’

  ‘The time for thinking this through is over,’ Roland said resolutely, receiving a nod of approval from the others. ‘We’ve followed the inscriptions as far as we can. I’ll lead. But don’t come straight after me. If I make the wrong choice, I might activate a trap. So wait until you see what it is first.’

  Caspan gave him an encouraging pat on the back. ‘Good luck.’

  Roland winked confidently at him and took a deep, steadying breath. Pumped by the surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, he leapt. He landed lithely, effortlessly, on the column. Nothing happened, and he smiled back cockily at his companions. But, just as Caspan was about to come across, a deep grinding sound resonated throughout the chamber. The columns vibrated, and the friends dropped into crouching positions lest they lose their footing. They stared warily about, fearful of what they’d activated. To their horror, the columns started to retract into the water.

  Caspan was up on his feet within a heartbeat. ‘Move! If we’re quick, we can still make it.’

  Without waiting for Sara and Lachlan, he took off, leaping across to Roland. Both boys then raced across the sinking columns, staring determinedly at the distant platform, which threatened to move beyond their reach with each passing second. They had almost made it all the way across when they heard a cry for help. Caspan turned in mid-air and cursed under his breath.

  Lachlan had fallen off one of the columns. Sara had somehow managed to grab hold of him, but she too was slipping.

  ‘Help me!’ she screamed.

  Caspan landed safely beside Roland on the second-last pillar and, in a terrible moment of indecision, froze. He glanced over his shoulder, checking how far he was from the platform. It now stood four feet above him, becoming further out of reach. Within a few seconds, the podium would be inaccessible and the recruits would fail the challenge. But Sara and Lachlan were in danger of falling. Caspan assumed that the water would be deep enough to prevent them from being injured, but he didn’t know that for sure. It was a gamble he wasn’t prepared to take.

  He pointed at the platform. ‘Go!’ he ordered Roland, then raced back towards his friends.

  He made it to Sara just in time, grabbing hold of her hand as she slid completely off the platform. Lying on his back, Caspan tried to dig his heels into the stone surface, but he couldn’t find purchase. He pulled with all his might, straining until he could feel his blood pounding in his temples, but there was no way he could support his two friends. Caspan was dragged towards the edge of the column. He peered down fearfully, knowing that they were still too high. If that water wasn’t deep enough, it wouldn’t break their fall.

  ‘Let go, Cas!’ Lachlan cried. ‘You’ll never pull us both up. Go for the bag.’

  Caspan clenched his teeth. ‘No!’

  He gave one final effort to drag his friends back up, hauling until his vision blurred. His heels finally dug in at the very edge of the platform, and Sara tried to swing her right foot up and hook her ankle over the ledge. Her foot slipped, however, and she went swinging back down again. The sudden jolt was too much for Caspan to bear. With a cry caught in his throat, he toppled over the edge.

  CHAPTER 6

  THE INDUCTION CEREMONY

  Caspan stood to attention alongside his friends, his chin held high, as Duke Connal organised the black Brotherhood cloaks on the table before them. It was their induction ceremony, when they would become official members of the Brotherhood of Thieves. Caspan had dreamed of this moment for the past three months, ever since their training had begun. They had come so far and achieved so much. It was going to be one of the most special moments in his life; an occasion he would never forget.

  And all he could do was try not to laugh.

  For such a formal occasion it seemed comical that, with the exception of Roland, all of the initiates had been stained with red dye. Although Caspan, Lachlan and Sara had fallen into the flooded chamber, the dye had been diluted with water, giving their skin a light pink tinge that had already started to fade. Meanwhile, no amount of scrubbing and bathing seemed to be able to lessen the bright red colour of Kilt’s face. Gramidge had consoled her that it would start to fade after a week or two, which only sent her into an even fouler mood.

  Two days had passed since the initiates successfully completed the second test. As Caspan had expected, the water in the final chamber was deep enough to break their fall. He had swum after Sara and Lachlan over to a ledge circling the chamber, just below the water-line, and looked back up at the sinking pillars to find that Roland had made it to the podium. The black-haired boy checked to see that his friends hadn’t been injured, then, clutching the bag of coins against his chest, hurried through the final doorway.

  And now, provided Caspan didn’t ruin the occasion, he and his friends would be formally accepted into the order. The ceremony took place in the Great Hall. Duke Connal stood atop the platform in front of the hearth, and the five initiates waited in line in front of him. There wasn’t much of an audience: only the Masters and Gramidge were in attendance, sitting over near the tables. The steward looked more proud than anybody, wearing a royal-blue velvet cape for the occasion. When the friends entered the hall, he clapped so hard that Master Scott looked at him with concern.

  Master Morgan, on the other hand, looked incredibly relieved, as if the greatest of burdens had been lifted from his shoulders. Caspan was sure this was due to the fact that, as of this evening, the Master was no longer responsible for training Roland. Their daily sword-training sessions were a thing of the past, and he would no longer have to tolerate Roland’s jests and quips.

  ‘Congratulations,’ Duke Connal said, addressing the five initiates. ‘It doesn’t seem so long ago that I welcomed you to begin your training with the Brotherhood. No doubt there were times you thought it was too hard and felt like quitting, but you persevered and pushed yourselves to learn new skills. And now, tonight, I welcome you to officially join the Brotherhood.’

  Caspan wondered if he might be dubbed, like when a squire completes their training to become a knight. He stared expectantly at the Duke as he took the cloaks from the table, handed them to the friends and instructed them to put them on.

  ‘Wear them with pride,’ Connal continued. ‘Their black colour is symbolic of your role as thieves. The silver crown embroidered on the inside of the lapel represents your fealty to King Rhys. The King has entrusted us with the most im
portant of tasks. Never question the value of what we do. The fate of Andalon rests in our hands.’ He stepped back and regarded the new members, smiling warmly. ‘I couldn’t be more proud of you.’ He shook hands with each of them and indicated them towards the tables, where a feast awaited.

  ‘Is that it, my lord?’ Roland asked. ‘Don’t get me wrong – I’m never happier than when I’m eating, especially if it involves sausages, but I thought we might be required to do … well, something.’

  Connal regarded him quizzically, a curious smile playing at the edge of his lips. ‘Like what?’

  Roland shrugged. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something like scale the walls of the hall as one final test?’

  ‘Don’t push your luck,’ Morgan remarked. ‘It can easily be arranged.’

  Connal laughed. ‘No, that’s all, Roland. You’ve well and truly proven your worth.’ His eyebrows arched. ‘That is, of course, unless you want to climb the hall?’

  ‘No, no, no. I’m quite content to start eating.’ Roland headed quickly for the tables, sat down and stacked his plate with sausages.

  ‘Can we summon our Wardens?’ Sara asked, sitting down beside him and glancing at the Duke. ‘It doesn’t seem right that they’re not allowed to share this special moment with us.’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ Roland muttered, his mouth full of food. ‘I’m enjoying the peace and quiet without having to worry about Bandit stealing everything off my plate.’

  Connal pursed his lips in thought then shrugged. ‘I’ve got no objection. But they’ll have to stay well away from the tables. Gramidge has gone to a lot of trouble preparing this feast. I’d hate for the Wardens to eat it all before we even get to sample some.’

  Roland waved a sausage at him in agreement. ‘My thoughts exactly, my lord.’ Just to be on the safe side, he prepared himself a second plate of food.

  Large buckets were brought in from the stable, set at the far end of the hall, and filled with meat and grain. The friends then summoned their magical guardians.

  Caspan excused himself several times during the course of the evening to visit Frostbite. He fed him apples and prime cuts of meat he’d pinched from the tables, which the drake greedily gobbled up. Sitting down beside his Warden at the end of the meal, Caspan gazed around the hall. He’d come such a long way from the sewers of Floran. He’d made himself a new home and friends. Never before had he felt such a warm sensation of acceptance, belonging and achievement. Life could not get any better.

  ‘What do you think? We’ve done okay for ourselves?’ he asked Frostbite, scratching him behind the ear.

  ‘You look happy,’ came a familiar voice. Caspan looked up to see Scott standing before him, tankard in hand. ‘I thought we might have a chat, but if you’d prefer to be left alone …?’

  Caspan shuffled over. ‘No, please join us. I just wanted to spend some time with Frostbite. He’s been with me every step of my training. This night’s just as special for him.’

  Scott sat down beside him, nestled his back against the wall and took a sip of his drink. He smiled as Frostbite stretched leisurely and clawed at the floor. ‘We have a lot in common, you know,’ he said, glancing at Caspan.

  Caspan tugged the collar of his new cloak. ‘We wear the same clothes now.’

  Scott grinned. ‘There’s a bit more to it than that. We both have drakes.’ He regarded Caspan thoughtfully. ‘And we have similar pasts?’

  Caspan often wondered if the Master was going to confide in him that he too was a former footpad. Gramidge had told him some time ago, but had sworn him to secrecy.

  Caspan tried his best to look surprised. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We were both members of thieves’ guilds before joining the Brotherhood.’

  ‘You?’

  Scott nodded cheerily. ‘I know. It seems hard to believe, since I’m a Brotherhood Master now. But twelve years ago things were very different.’

  Gramidge had only told Caspan so much, and he was keen to learn more. ‘You didn’t belong to the Black Hand, did you?’

  ‘No.’ Scott chortled. ‘I said our paths were similar, not identical.’ He shifted into a more comfortable position. ‘I was a member of the Dodgers, one of the biggest thieves’ guilds in Briston. I was orphaned as an infant and learnt how to pick pockets before I could even walk.’ His look became distant. ‘Coin pouches and purses were my specialty. I’d wander into crowded market squares and come out with a fortune. I earned a reputation as one of the best thieves in the city. Un fortunately, nearly all of my takings went back to the guild masters, leaving me with a mere pittance for all my hard work.’

  ‘I know exactly what you mean. Is that why you joined the Brotherhood?’

  ‘No. That happened purely by chance, when I was caught with artefacts I stole from a Dray barrow.’ Scott chuckled quietly. ‘I thought I was going to be hung, but King Rhys was so intrigued by the soul key I discovered that he decided to create an order to find more. That’s how the Brotherhood was formed. I was one of the founding members.’

  Caspan thought back to his first meeting with Raven in Floran. ‘Well, if we’re going to be sharing secrets, it only seems fair that I should tell you I was invited to join the order when I was caught pinching Oswald’s coin pouch.’

  Scott smiled wryly. ‘I know. Raven told me a few days before we held the test in Briston for new recruits. She told me to expect you.’ He took a long draught of his drink and glanced around the hall. ‘And look where we ended up. For two former street thieves, it wasn’t a bad trade.’

  ‘And don’t forget it introduced us to our Wardens,’ Caspan added, tossing Frostbite a portion of meat, which he snapped out of the air. ‘It wouldn’t be the same here if it weren’t for them.’

  ‘I won’t argue with that,’ Scott agreed, touching the soul key around his neck fondly. ‘Is there anything you miss about your former life?’

  Caspan shook his head. ‘Nothing. I couldn’t wait to leave it behind. There’s nothing worse than being cold and hungry all the time. Sometimes my belly would rumble for weeks. And I had no friends; nobody I could trust. It was very lonely.’

  He was distracted when Kilt’s snow panther, Whisper, hissed and flicked a clawed paw at Sara’s pegasus, Cloud Dancer, who’d come too close to her food bucket. Whisper growled and stared threateningly at Cloud Dancer until she moved away, then lay down, licked her paws and purred contentedly. Again, Caspan was reminded of how much the panther reminded him of Kilt. They were both selfish and moody.

  ‘Talking about friends, how are things with Kilt?’ Scott asked, as if reading Caspan’s thoughts. ‘It’s no secret you two got off to a rough start.’

  Caspan shrugged. ‘So-so. I mean, we get along okay now, but she’s always …’ He glanced uncertainly at the Master, unsure as to how much he should reveal. He’d never complained to the Masters in the past about Kilt, and he didn’t want to sound like he was whingeing.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Scott reassured. ‘I know I’m a Brotherhood Master, but I’d like to think we can talk candidly.’ He nudged the boy. ‘If two former street thieves can’t have a little chat, who can?’

  Caspan smiled, feeling much more comfortable. ‘Well, she’s always so distant. I always get the feeling she’s hiding something from me: something that happened to her in the past and for which she holds me responsible. Why, I don’t know, because we’d never met prior to joining the Brotherhood.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t worry too much. Some people are like apple pies.’ Caspan frowned, and the Master elucidated. ‘Maybe she needs time to settle and cool down, just like an apple pie after it’s been cooked.’

  ‘So we should ask her to sit on a kitchen window-sill?’ Caspan grinned broadly. ‘Now that’s something I’d like to see. I suppose you’re right. But what about you?’ he asked. ‘Do you miss anything about your former life?’

  The Master turned up his nose. ‘Good riddance, I say.’ He looked across at Lachlan’s griffin, Talon, as he preen
ed his wings. ‘I wonder if our Wardens feel the same. Remember, they once served Dray kings.’

  Caspan was about to respond when he couldn’t help but be distracted by Roland. The black-haired boy was standing on a table across the hall, a chunk of meat in his hand. He whistled, caught Bandit’s attention, then threw the meat at him … only it went wide as it sailed through the air and splattered against the wall.

  ‘Oops,’ Roland muttered, slinking down into his seat and giving Gramidge a sheepish look. He whistled and rearranged his cutlery, his expression one of roguish innocence, as if he had nothing to do with the piece of meat slowly sliding down the wall.

  Scott shook his head in wonder. ‘Does he ever stop?’

  Caspan smirked. ‘No, that’s Roland in a nutshell. Believe me, there’s never a dull moment with him around.’

  ‘So, our Wardens,’ Scott said. ‘Do you think they miss their former Dray masters?’

  ‘I sometimes think about that. We weren’t the only ones to start new lives here. We woke our Wardens out of deep hibernation and summoned them into a completely new world.’ Caspan tickled Frostbite’s cheek and the drake yawned contentedly. ‘But I think they like us.’

  Scott smiled warmly. ‘I think so too.’

  Morgan caught Scott’s attention from across the hall and waved for him to join him and the Duke. Scott chuckled wryly to himself as he rose. ‘Sorry, Caspan, but duty calls. As a Master, there’s only so much of the festivities I’m allowed to enjoy.’ He winked. ‘Though I will make a convenient detour past the mince tarts first.’

  As the Master walked off, Caspan turned to Frostbite. ‘I think he’s got the right idea.’ He rubbed his hands conspiratorially and leaned in close to whisper in the drake’s ear. ‘Now, what else would you like to eat?’

  CHAPTER 7

  THE MAP DECRYPTED

  ‘Where’s Roland?’ Kilt lowered her voice so that it didn’t carry through Duke Connal’s office door.