by Perry Aylen
‘Because of Jacob!’ yelled someone in the crowd. ‘Not because of her!’
‘We don’t want the girl here!’ shouted someone else.
‘She’s evil!’ called out another.
Others took up the cry. Jacob tightened his hand around Elya’s. Isambard held up a hand and his mighty voice rang over the protests of the crowd.
‘On what grounds do you accuse her of being evil?’ he demanded to know.
‘She’s the dark wizard of the prophecy,’ someone responded, and a hundred other voices babbled in agreement.
‘So, she’s dark!’ Only Isambard could have silenced the agitated crowd with his voice alone. He reached down behind him for Elya’s hand and pulled her up reluctantly beside him. He raised his other hand to his own head. ‘I’m dark.’ He pointed out into the crowd. ‘You’re dark. So are you. Does that make us evil?’ This time nobody responded, though there was plenty of muttering. Isambard pushed on. ‘Let me remind you that, without Elya, you would not have your wizard strikers.’
‘Dark magic!’ bellowed someone.
Isambard looked puzzled. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘Because,’ shouted back the same belligerent voice, ‘we can’t make the strikers without dark magic. I know. I’ve tried. I’m a Spinnyridge blacksmith and I know my trade!’
A chorus of support swelled around the speaker. Elya looked at Isambard in rising trepidation.
‘Of course you can make them,’ insisted Isambard. ‘My smiths on Thorland have made hundreds.’
‘With her help!’ shouted back the same man. ‘Speaks for itself, doesn’t it?’
For the first time, Isambard faltered. The crowd, sensing his hesitation, broke into another hubbub of dissent. Waves of hostility began to rise. The mayors were looking worried. Somewhere near the centre of the mass of people, a disturbance broke out, drawing all attention to that spot.
A giant of a man pushed his way through the crowd to stand beside the barge. He had a broad face, pitted and scarred, flushed now with righteous indignation. At his belt he carried a blacksmith’s hammer.
‘My name is Jeremiah Grimwold and I’m a blacksmith too,’ he informed the mass of people. ‘But I’m from Pelago, not Spinnyridge, and I’ve been making working strikers for months. It was Elya who taught me to make them. The only magic involved is earth magic, not dark magic, and the reason the smiths on Spinnyridge failed is because they stole the method from me, but they didn’t understand all the facts. The secret lies in the charcoal. You won’t make a steel with a gas furnace. Good old fashioned charcoal is the magic ingredient, if that’s what you want to call it.’
A low murmur went through the crowd. The heckler had finally fallen silent. Jeremiah looked up at Elya and gave her his familiar broad grin. She tried to smile back.
Isambard was speaking again. ‘If it hadn’t been for Elya, you might not be standing here now. Only her good sense persuaded me that Thorland should come to this fair today. If we hadn’t arrived when we did, where would you be now? Today, Elya saved your fair, your boats and your lives. And it is also on her sound advice that I have decided that Thorland will not keep the boats we won back from the raiders, which, after all, is our rightful privilege. Instead, they will be restored to their owners.’
Elya looked up at him in wide-eyed surprise. He flashed her a smile and a quick wink, then turned his attention back to the crowd.
‘Moreover, I am here today to discuss the future of Hexult with your mayors; to find a peaceful resolution to the hostilities that have existed between our islands for so many years now. And I am here because this young lady convinced me that talking is better than fighting.’
He paused to let the surprised crowd absorb his words. The grumbles of simmering discontent were fading beneath a growing murmur of approval at what they had been told. Seizing the moment, Kaya Potts clambered up beside Isambard. Even standing on the locker, beside the tall Thorlander, she looked very short.
‘On behalf of the other islands of Hexult,’ she began with dignity, raising her voice to be heard above the wonderings of the crowd, ‘I would like to welcome Isambard and the people of Thorland, and thank them for coming to our aid in such a timely and magnanimous way.’ After a moment, a rattle of applause broke out among the crowd, although it sounded hesitant and uncertain.
‘I would also like to thank him, on your behalf, for his very generous gesture in returning the salvaged boats to their owners,’ added Kaya, and this time the applause picked up momentum. A few cheers went up from the crowd.
‘And I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank both Jacob and Elya for their invaluable contribution to the welfare of our islands. Their ingenuity and persistence has changed our lives for the better. This fair is testament to their wonderful work to unite our islands in friendship and accord.’ She gestured to Jacob to join her on the locker, although there was barely room for him to squeeze up next to Kaya. He sincerely hoped the wooden lid would hold beneath the weight of four of them. The dignity of the moment would certainly be lost if they all fell through onto the deck.
It was the cue for the crowd to respond with a rising cheer of appreciation. Kaya Potts beamed round at the twins. They were smiling too.
‘A day to remember,’ she said, beneath the swell of the cheering, then she turned back to the crowd and held up her hand. They were ready to respond now, borne along on a rising tide of goodwill.
‘As Isambard has told you, today your leaders will sit down together to find a way to resolve our differences. In the meantime, the fair will carry on, and we very much hope you continue to enjoy it,’ she finished, ‘and that this will be the start of a whole new chapter in the relationships between our precious islands.’ Turning to Isambard, she held out her hand and he gripped it and shook it firmly.
The crowd had warmed up by then, and this time there was a loud surge of applause, cheers, and some whistling.
The four of them stepped down from the locker and turned to the other two mayors and Friedrich. All three were smiling.
‘Marvellous!’ Mayor Sleetfoot was saying, repeating it over and over. He stepped forward and clapped Jacob on the shoulder. ‘Amazing! Better than I ever thought possible. Wait ‘til I tell Gabriel!’
Jacob’s smile faded. Where is Gabriel? I would have expected him to be here.’
Mayor Sleetfoot looked vaguely troubled. ‘He said he had too much business to attend to, and that he needed to be near the shrine to make sure the Vajra didn’t strike the fair.’ He leant towards Jacob conspiratorially. ‘Personally, I think he just doesn’t like crowds.’ His face lit up as he recalled something.
‘Look what I bought today at the fair,’ he said, brightly, holding up a small worked leather pouch. ‘It’s for my wizard striker,’ he explained, seeing Jacob had not grasped instantly what it was. ‘You can get knitted ones as well,’ he added happily.
Chapter 55
‘Can we get out of here?’ whispered Elya in her brother’s ear.
Jacob looked around at the mass of people still crowding the ice, all gossiping avidly about the twins and the prophecy, Isambard and the Thorlanders. He got the distinct impression that they were likely to be mobbed by curious onlookers and enthusiastic well wishers if they stepped down off the barge. There was no longer any sign of Jeremiah. Jacob cast his eyes up at the tower. He took out his small mirror and flashed a signal at the tower top.
ALL WELL BUT NEED TO ESCAPE.
Almost instantly, the reply came back. LEAVE IT TO ME.
The mayors, with Isambard and Friedrich were talking busily among themselves. Jacob turned to his sister. ‘Are you all right?’
She nodded, although she looked pale, and there was a haunted expression in her eyes.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’ll be fine as soon as we get away from here.’
‘I thought you were dead,’ he told her. ‘I thought you were dead when Aulf and Ingar said the raiders had got you. And then I thought you
were dead again when Isambard brought you down off that boat.’
She looked like she ready to cry again and Jacob was afraid if she cried, he would too. He changed the subject quickly.
‘So, you built a tower of your own! We could hardly believe it when we got your message!’
She nodded. ‘There’s no shortage of high places to build on Thorland. It’s all mountains and forests. Quite beautiful, really. Not gloomy at all, once you get to know it.’
‘But how did you know you’d be able to see Spinnyridge when you were building?’
Elya shook her head. ‘I didn’t. Not for sure. I had to make a calculated guess, and try to sound confident! I imagined you’d be lighting signal fires to work out your own locations on Spinnyridge, but I never saw any. We just kept on building anyway, and I got more and more worried that the tower would never be of any practical use! Then, one day, we caught some random flashes in the far distance. Did you hoist a mirror up the outside of the Spinnyridge tower, by any chance?’
Jacob thought back. ‘Yes we did.’
‘That would explain it then. Those were the flashes we saw. I was so relieved, and everyone else was really excited because we knew it was going to work then.’ She took both his hands in her own and squeezed them hard. ‘I’m so pleased to see you again. I missed you all so much! How are Ingar and Aulf?’
Jacob nodded. ‘They’re fine. They’re here somewhere. Ingar’s been up in the tower signalling. She was the one who sent you the plea for help. And Ma’s here too, I think. Aulf brought her. And Grim. Well, you saw him. There’s so much to tell you.’
‘Wait till we’re all back together,’ Elya told him. ‘I’ve quite a tale to tell you too.’
‘Jacob,’ called Kaya Potts, catching his attention, ‘someone’s waving at you over there. On that boat.’
Elya and Jacob looked in the direction she had indicated, and there, speeding around the perimeter of the fair, at her usual breathless pace, was the Aurora, with Ingar on deck, waving for all she was worth. The boat headed in towards the moored barge, slowing as she did so, sending bystanders scattering to get out of her way. Jacob and Elya were quick to seize the opportunity, scrambling down from the barge, and slithering across the ice.
They climbed onto the port runner and Ingar’s head appeared over the rail, a wide grin splitting her face as she offered a hand up.
As Elya got both feet on the deck, Ingar threw her arms around her and hugged her hard.
‘Have you left the tower unmanned then?’ asked Jacob, clambering aboard unaided.
Ingar shook her head. ‘I’ve found an apprentice.’
Aulf was beside them by then. He too wore a broad, delighted grin.
‘Welcome back, Elya. It hasn’t been the same around here without you,’ he said, catching her up in a hug of welcome.
‘Aulf,’ she whispered into his ear, ‘can you get us away from here?’
Aulf needed no second asking. He let out the main and braced the boom with his body, and the Aurora started moving backwards. As it gained momentum, he leapt onto the outrigger and pulled the boom in hard. The wind caught the sail with a sudden hard thwack, and the boat tilted. Ingar scrambled outwards in response to Aulf’s gestured commands. The runner gave, and the boat slewed round. The watching crowd saw the small craft dart lightly away, and vanish into the mists of the open ice.
They didn’t sail far. As soon as the sights and sounds of the fair had been swallowed by the cold white silence of the ice waste, Aulf slowed the boat, and they drifted to a halt. Ingar scrambled off the rigger and disappeared into the cabin to put the kettle on the stove.
Elya made for the cabin, then paused in the doorway. The heat from the stove and the sight of the familiar cabin drew a sigh of pleasure from her, and a slow smile formed on her face. Ingar, watching her, saw that the distant, haunted expression was gone from her eyes.
‘We were so worried about you,’ she told Elya. ‘We thought you were dead, or captured by raiders at best. How did you end up on Thorland?’
So Elya recounted her adventures and the other three listened, amazed. They were all horrified as she told them how she had been chased by the Spinnyridge mob, and taken prisoner, first by pirates and then by the Thorlanders, and finally locked in a dungeon in the depths of a castle.
‘A castle?’ interrupted Jacob, impressed. ‘A real one?’
‘Of course it was real!’ Elya laughed. ‘Small and square – rather ugly really - but with towers and ramparts, and very old. And the cell was just as you would imagine. Cold, dark and smelly! But I must have been completely exhausted, because I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until morning. And that’s when I first met Isambard. He loomed in the doorway of my cell like a vision from a story book, tall and dark, with a great mane of hair and his black cloak wrapped around him.’
‘He’s quite a character!’ Jacob said.
‘I didn’t know what to say to prove I wasn’t a raider or a spy, so in the end, I just took out my flint and steel and asked Isambard if his people would be interested in knowing how to make them.’
‘Was he impressed?’ asked Ingar.
Elya laughed. ‘He was certainly curious. He whisked me straight off to a blacksmith - well, I kind of limped along behind him as best I could because my knee was swollen up like a suet pudding! Thankfully, the steel I made worked when I struck it, so everyone watching was amazed.’
Elya giggled. ‘I was given two huge rooms of my own to live in, in the castle. It sounds really grand. But, although it’s a castle, apart from its age and the stonework, it’s really just like the town halls on the other islands, full of clerks and cleaners!’
‘Does Isambard live in the castle?’ asked Aulf, attempting to keep his voice neutral but not quite succeeding.
Elya shook her head. ‘No. Nobody else actually lives there, and judging by the mould growing on the walls, I don’t think they’ve had anyone staying there for a long time either! I must admit, I did find it a bit lonely to begin with.’
‘Did they keep you prisoner?’ asked Jacob, looking worried.
‘Oh, no! After that first night, I was treated really well. As time went on, I made some good friends. And it’s difficult to feel bored or fed up when Isambard’s around. He has so much energy, and he’s witty and intelligent. I’ve never met anyone quite like him!’
Ingar fixed her with an impish grin. ‘You seem to have got on very well with him.’ She flicked a glance in Aulf’s direction. She was the only one to notice the pained expression he was working hard to conceal as Elya enthused about the mysterious chieftain of Thorland.
‘It would have been hard not to. He’s done so much for me. He loved all my ideas, and he has so many of his own. So different to the reception I received on the other islands. We’ve become such good friends!’
‘Just friends?’ Ingar’s eyes twinkled mischievously.
Elya grinned back. ‘He’s kind and generous, and he has a great sense of fun. And he cares about Thorland with a passion. I know he’s a real showman in public, but that’s all just an act. If you got to know him, you’d all like him too.’
Ingar looked eager to get to know Isambard better. Jacob and Aulf were less convinced. In fact, Aulf, usually so easygoing, looked as if the Thorland chieftain might well be the most despicable character he had ever met.
‘All the Thorlanders were passionate about their island,’ went on Elya, ‘but there was a lot of resentment towards the other islands, most of it based on hearsay rather than fact. I talked about it with Isambard. Early on, I raised the idea of a communication tower to connect Thorland to the other islands, but it took a while to get over all the doubt and suspicion in his mind.
Gradually, he started asking me more and more about how the light towers worked and, finally, he agreed to try it. He knew that Thorland would benefit from better links with the other islands, but the difficulty was persuading him to make the first move. And then, out of the blue, came your invitation to the ic
e fair. It made all the hard work of building the tower worthwhile.
‘Ingar told me all about the fair and how it was for all the islands, so I thought she meant we were all invited. I didn’t realise you meant just me!’
‘Just as well, as it turned out!’ remarked Jacob with feeling. He stood up and fumbled under his coat, drawing out the sword Isambard had given into his safekeeping earlier. Elya stared at it in silence, her face suddenly grave. Carefully, Jacob pulled the weapon from its sheath
‘Wow!’ He turned it around to admire the light gilding the decorated bronze blade. ‘It’s beautiful! Where did you get it?’
‘It was Isambard’s. He wanted me to have it. He gave it to me just before we saw your message about the attack.’ She held out her hand for the weapon and Jacob passed it to her in silence, sensing the solemnity of her mood. She held it upright in front of her face and examined the blade intently, as though she expected to see the raiders’ blood still there.
‘I killed two raiders with this,’ she told them, her tone sombre. ‘They attacked Isambard’s boat while he was fighting on the ice. They would have killed me. This saved my life.’ She contemplated silently for a few moments. Once again, Jacob had the uncomfortable sensation of slipping away from his sister, as though a gap had opened in the ice between them. When she spoke again, her voice sounded strange and there was a far off look in her deep green eyes.
‘You know, for all everyone thinks we’re the wizards – you and I, Jacob – maybe it’s Isambard who’s really magic. How did he know I would need this sword?’
‘He didn’t,’ Jacob told her, trying to sound practical. ‘It was just a lucky coincidence.’