by Perry Aylen
Aulf hadn’t known quite what to do when the raiders sprang their trap. Drifting around the perimeter of the fair, the first he had known of the impending danger was when two boats emerged from the mist and began targeting outlying boats with fire arrows. His concern then had been for his own vessel, and he had made a hasty retreat, skirting round the anchored boats. Only then had he seen a dozen or more raider ships emerge from the mist and home in like hungry birds of prey. Suddenly, his worry was no longer for his beloved Aurora, instead he thought of Ma, Ingar and Jacob, but he could see no way of helping them effectively. A panicked exodus was already under way as people jostled and shoved to return to their stranded vessels.
He could see Ingar, on the top of her tower, rushing back and forth, leaning over to communicate with people below – Jacob, Grim and Ma, Aulf hoped – and then flashing signals which, frustratingly, he was unable to interpret. If they all managed to escape this crisis, he swore to himself, he would take time to learn the wizards’ code.
Realising that the sheriffs’ boats were wedged helplessly among the solid mass of moored vessels, Aulf scanned the crowded jumble of boats for any sign of men in pursuit, but could see none. He kept the Aurora as close as he dared, so that if any sheriffs’ men made it through on foot, he could take them on board and make a fast chase.
A boat hurtled around the edge of the fair, heading straight for him. Aulf reacted instantly, swinging the Aurora round, fearing it was too late to avoid certain collision. He caught a brief glance of the startled faces of the men on board the other boat, as they came almost head to head, and then the two vessels shot past each other, so close that Aulf was sure he heard the rasp of wood on wood.
It took him a moment to recover from the shock. His heart was still pounding as he swung round to stare after the disappearing vessel, with the vague feeling that there had been something disturbingly familiar about that boat and its crew.
There was no time to wonder, though. At that moment, someone hailed him from behind, and he swung back to see Jeremiah bearing down on him, on skates. Aulf brought the Aurora to a standstill and the big blacksmith caught up with him, clutching hold of the edge of the deck, red in the face and panting.
‘Vajra’s belly!’ he cursed, as he gasped for breath. ‘They got away!’
Aulf held out his hand to help Grim onto the deck. The big man sank down on a locker and wiped dewy beads of perspiration from his large, pock-marked face.
‘It was them!’ he exclaimed, exasperated with his own failure to catch the men.
‘Who?’ queried Aulf.
‘The ones who attacked me! The vermin who beat me up! It was them shooting those fire arrows, so I went after them.’
Aulf frowned. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive! That was my coat that rat was wearing! They stole it the night they attacked me - along with my money and some of my best tools!’ He glowered accusingly in the direction the men had taken. ‘I cured those furs myself. I know my own coat when I see it!’
‘I knew I recognised them!’ Aulf stared after the fleeing vessel, although it had quickly vanished, merging into the jam of other boats fighting to extract themselves from the fair. ‘So, Noah and Tom were right!’ he said to himself as the pieces dropped into place.
Grim was regarding him with a puzzled frown.
‘Ivor and Thorold,’ Aulf explained. ‘They’ve been working in cahoots with the raiders all this time.’ He gestured around him at the chaos and panic of the frightened fair goers. ‘This was no random attack! This was a set up from the beginning. What’s more, I can guess who was behind it.’
Jeremiah raised his eyebrows.
Aulf’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened perceptibly. ‘Gabriel!’ he said.
Chapter 52
Jacob sat down on the ice and put his head in his hands, feeling suddenly weak. The danger was now past, but it had so nearly been a complete disaster. He still didn’t know how many people had been injured in the attack, or the resulting pandemonium, or indeed, if anyone was dead. What on the wide ice had he been thinking, he asked himself? What had made him believe he could organise an event of this size? He shuddered as he imagined what could have happened.
‘The sheriff’s boat is coming back with one of the Thorland boats,’ called Ingar from above, and Jacob realised he had been sitting on the ice long enough to get uncomfortably cold. He levered himself back onto his feet and drew a deep breath.
‘I’m going to meet them,’ he called back.
It was difficult to force a way through the crowds, as the earlier mayhem had not yet subsided. People were still scrambling in all directions, those struggling to get back to their boats competing with the hardier ones who had decided that the danger was past and that the fair should continue, but eventually Jacob skated free of the stalls, heading between the gathered boats towards the distinctive black sail of the approaching Thorland boat in the distance. There were others heading the same way, keen to get a closer look at the scene of the battle and the great fleet of Thorland ships that had come to the rescue.
He broke clear of the tangle of boats just as the Thorland vessel, an impressively large, armoured craft, bearing the badge of a silver castle on its vast black mainsail, slid with surprising grace to a standstill, close to where the sheriff’s boat had pulled up. There was a familiar barge moored there on the ice, with the red and white flag of Orking Do flapping at its prow. Jacob recognised it straight away as the mayor’s official barge. Even more familiar was the stocky figure of Mayor Potts on deck, and Mayor Sleetfoot beside her. Quite a throng was gathering near the three vessels, staring up at the big iron-prowed Voyager, and out across the open ice to where the other black-sailed ships were clustered around the wrecks of the raiders’ boats.
‘Jacob!’ Mayor Potts had spotted him, leaning out over the side of her barge to hail him. ‘I was wondering where you were. Come on up here.’
Jacob hesitated only for a second, glancing anxiously at the Voyager, then skated straight for the Orking Do barge. A ramp had been set down to allow dignified access onto the deck, and Jacob paused at the bottom to unfasten his blades. As he did so, he saw the mayor of Pelago and Friedrich Cooper on the far side of the deck. Had they been here before the battle started, he wondered, or had they been summoned in response? There was no time to wonder, or to ask, because all attention was suddenly diverted to the big black boat. A ripple of interest surged through the curious crowd of onlookers.
A man had jumped down nimbly onto the ice. He was tall and athletic, dressed all in black, with a heavy cloak draped around his wide shoulders. A craggy face and fierce black eyes were set beneath the rugged overhang of his dark, formidable brows. Jacob was somewhat alarmed to see that he had a hefty-looking sword at his waist, and large muscular hands that looked well able to wield it. The dark man turned back to his boat and one of his men leant over and passed a large bundle over the rail into his arms. He was not wearing skates, only long black boots, yet he walked easily on the slippery surface beneath his feet, even with his arms full.
The buzz of the crowd sank to a murmur as they saw what he carried. Jacob, at the foot of the ramp by the mayor’s official barge, saw too, and his stomach did a sickening flip. For a moment, he thought his knees would buckle. The dark man came closer. In his arms he held a girl, her black hair falling like a dark shroud over his leather clad arm. In her bloodless face, her eyes were closed, her head lolling backwards like a broken doll. A lifeless arm hung limply, the fur of the girl’s sleeve matted and wet with blood, and there was more blood over the front of her coat.
‘Elya!’ Jacob cried aloud as his legs finally gave way, forcing him to his knees, a dark rush of grief washing away everything but the image of his sister lying dead in a stranger’s arms.
The man paused to look at him, but Jacob, distraught, could focus on nothing but Elya.
‘Who are you?’ asked the dark stranger.
Jacob’s voice came out in a strangled croa
k. ‘I’m her brother. What happened?’
‘Let’s go inside,’ said the stranger, ‘and I’ll tell you.’
Chapter 53
In the roomy cabin of the mayor’s barge, Isambard laid Elya gently on the cushioned bed, and looked round at the three mayors, Friedrich and Jacob.
‘It’s all right,’ he assured them, noticing all at once the expressions on their faces. ‘I don’t think she’s hurt. She just fainted.’
‘But all the blood!’ protested Jacob in horror, as he dropped down next to Elya and took up her limp, cold hand in his own.
‘Not hers,’ Isambard assured him. ‘While we were fighting the raiders on the ice, two of them got on board Voyager, intending to steal it and escape. Elya stopped them. She never ceases to amaze me.’
Jacob didn’t question this dark Thorlander about how Elya had managed to thwart the raiders. The realisation that his sister might actually be alive after all was as much as he could deal with in that moment. Tears of relief blurred his vision.
‘In fact, your sister is the most incredible girl I have ever met,’ Isambard went on, his voice softening as he spoke of her.
Friedrich was leaning forward to get a closer look at the pale girl on the bed.
‘So this is the dark wizard everyone was talking about!’ he murmured, gaping at her in fascination, as though he expected to see evil emanating from her like steam. ‘I saw her before, on Spinnyridge, but I didn’t know who she was then.’
‘Dark wizard?’ Isambard fixed him with a hard stare. ‘Perhaps it escaped your notice, but today this girl was your salvation.’
Mayor Sleetfoot cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘He was simply referring to all the troubles that seem to follow wherever she goes. There were... incidents, shall we say.’
‘Then I would suggest they were of your making and not hers,’ returned Isambard. ‘On Thorland, she is loved.’
‘You are quite right,’ said Mayor Potts. ‘She was hastily judged here.’
Isambard looked closely at the mayor. ‘Kaya Potts, is it?’ he questioned.
She smiled. ‘And you are Isambard, I presume?’
He inclined his head in acknowledgement. ‘We have met only through our correspondence. Finally, we meet face to face.’ He regarded her critically, and seemed to approve. ‘You are as I imagined.’
She looked him up and down with the same openness. ‘And you are... unexpected,’ she replied, with a little smile.
‘Elya?’ said Jacob, in a voice hardly more than a whisper.
Elya’s eyes had opened. She lay very still for several moments, dazed and disoriented. Gradually her gaze focused on the face of her brother and she stared. He saw bewilderment in her eyes, followed almost instantly by relief.
‘Jacob?’ she whispered, and raised herself up with an effort, in spite of his protestations.
‘I’m all right!’ She saw the blood all over her coat. ‘Oh!’ she said weakly, and tears sprang up in her eyes.
Jacob wrapped his arms around her. He could feel her hugging him back, although she was crying hard into his neck at the same time. ‘What happened?’ he asked, speaking close to her ear.
‘I’ll tell you,’ she whispered, ‘but not here. Later. When they’ve all gone.’
‘Let’s get you out of that coat,’ suggested Kaya Potts. ‘There are spares here in this cupboard. Jacob, help her off with that one.’
Jacob drew away from his sister, and Elya looked around her for the first time since coming round.
‘Isambard!’ she said, with relief.
‘There was already so much for which we owed you thanks,’ he said with a smile. ‘Now, I owe you Voyager too.’
‘No you don’t. You owe me nothing.’
Isambard drew back his cloak and unbuckled a belt from around his waist. Elya recoiled as he drew the sword from his waist. He held it out to Jacob.
‘This belongs to your sister. Look after it for her.’
Mayor Sleetfoot, who had been looking uncomfortable ever since Isambard’s appearance, finally appeared to pluck up the courage to speak his mind. ‘If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly brought you here today?’
The accusation in the question was plain. Isambard fixed him with a hard look that made Mayor Sleetfoot visibly squirm.
‘You think we came to cause trouble?’
Mayor Sleetfoot shifted with embarrassment, but had the courage to stand his ground. ‘Well, we’ve not exactly been getting on, have we?’
Isambard’s dark eyes narrowed slightly. ‘We came because we were invited.’
Now there was no denying the awkwardness. The three mayors looked at each other, then at Friedrich. He shrugged. ‘Don’t look at me! I didn’t invite anyone!’
Isambard looked at Elya, and Elya looked at Jacob.
Jacob pulled an apologetic face. ‘Well, actually, we did send a message to Thorland about the fair; to Elya. We weren’t exactly inviting everyone!’
An uneasy silence followed Jacob’s admission. It was Mayor Potts who broke it. ‘Well, I, for one, am very glad you did come today,’ she told Isambard firmly. ‘Where would we be now if you hadn’t? We owe you our heartfelt thanks, whatever has gone on between us in the past.’
Isambard looked at her, almost with amusement.
Elya nudged Jacob. ‘I knew they’d like each other if they actually met,’ she murmured, nodding her head at Mayor Potts and Isambard.
‘I almost didn’t come,’ Isambard confessed. ‘I was no keener to meet you than you appear to be about meeting me. It was Elya who persuaded me. This remarkable young woman has spent the last two months convincing me that we should not be fighting each other, and that you are not the villains I have always supposed you to be. All the more remarkable when I consider the tales she has related, regarding her time on your islands. Why she is still inclined to defend you and try and help you, baffled me at first. But now I think that she is right. All the people of our islands would benefit if we were to call a truce and establish a better working relationship.’
He flashed Elya a strange look that Jacob could not interpret, but that she understood. He saw her mouth curve into a secret smile, and a pang of jealousy caught him by surprise. In their time apart, something had changed. Elya was different.
‘Elya built us a signal tower on Thorland,’ Isambard went on, addressing the mayors once again. ‘I took some persuading to let her do this, although she had already introduced us to wizard strikers. When the tower was finished, it was as if it was a sign for the future, a beacon of hope for a new era of understanding.’ He paused and drew a deep breath. ‘We on Thorland are tired of fighting. Why don’t we stop?’
The mayors all looked taken aback by the suddenness of this suggestion. Friedrich’s eyes widened in disbelief.
‘What?’ said Mayor Potts. ‘Just like that?’
Isambard gave a small shrug. ‘Why not?’ He waved a hand to indicate the world beyond the cabin of the barge. ‘This fair is a moment in history. Here for the first time in living memory, all the islands of Hexult have come together, on the same side. Why don’t we mark this occasion with something momentous?’
‘You are willing to relinquish your claims on Spinnyridge?’ demanded Mayor Potts, still in disbelief.
Isambard gave another little shrug. ‘If you are.’
‘Then who will look after Spinnyridge?’ asked Mayor Potts.
‘Spinnyridge will look after itself,’ said Friedrich. ‘That’s what we’ve been saying for years. Spinnyridge would be the fifth canton of Hexult.’
Isambard was still looking at Kaya Potts. ‘It would resolve the arguments.’
Uncharacteristically lost for words, Mayor Potts looked around at her two fellow mayors, who looked equally stunned. ‘Well,’ she said, hesitantly, ‘it’s worth thinking about.’
‘Good,’ agreed Isambard. ‘Let’s think about it today. Now, I need to see what’s happening with the prisoners my men have captured. Shall we step out onto the dec
k together, and let the people of Hexult see their leaders united?’
Chapter 54
Jacob took Elya’s hand and together they followed Friedrich, Isambard and the three mayors out of the cabin. Several more Thorland boats had pulled in close to the fair, and several sheriffs’ boats, having extricated themselves from the crush during the panicked exodus earlier, were also moored nearby. Prisoners were being led across the ice to the sheriffs’ craft, and chained on the long decks. The spectacle had drawn even more spectators to the scene, and the emergence of the mayors and Isambard on the deck of the Orking Do barge, raised another stir. The tall, commanding presence of the dark Thorland chieftain turned every head, the babble of speculation rising to new levels of excitement.
Then the mood of the crowd altered. A murmur of discontent rumbled through the gathered throng, and an undercurrent of fear and hostility began to bubble.
Isambard frowned. ‘What’s upset them?’ he asked Kaya.
‘The girl,’ she told him, leaning closer so Elya wouldn’t hear. ‘They all believed her to be gone forever. Hoped she was, anyway. Now you’ve brought her back. They think she’s evil.’
‘Then tell them she’s not.’
‘I’ve tried. They don’t believe me.’
‘Then let me tell them!’ Isambard looked behind him at Jacob and Elya, pale but resigned, shoulder to shoulder, their two heads close, one as dark as the other was fair. ‘You two, follow me,’ he commanded, and sprang forward to the prow of the barge, onto the locker there. The wind snatched at his heavy cloak and at the wild black mane of his hair, and his dark eyes burned as he gazed out over the heads of the crowd.
‘People of Hexult!’ he thundered in a voice that reverberated across the ice, and made everyone on board the barge jump in surprise. ‘My name is Isambard, chieftain of Thorland, and I want to say to you that today is an historical day. Today the whole of Hexult has come together in one place, for one purpose. To celebrate what we can do together. And the reason we are here is because of these two young people, Jacob and Elya.’