Quest for the Sun Gem

by Belinda Murrell

  ‘First we should wend our way in a roundabout route to the tree house and store our packs, then I will go to get the princess while you stay at the tree,’ Ethan instructed.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Lily argued. ‘I should check how badly she is injured before we move her. You know how dangerous it can be to move someone if they are badly hurt.’ Ethan grunted at this and urged Moonbeam on, further up the stream into the forest.

  After a few more minutes, they left the stream and climbed up the bank, out of the valley and up the thickly wooded side of a hill. Aisha slipped beside them as silent as a wraith, her legs and belly dark with water. Willem had trained her to hunt quickly and quietly.

  The first flowers of spring thrust their blooms up through the dark mulch of rotting leaves and moss. Birds twittered from the branches of the trees surrounding them. Their nostrils filled with the deep, warm scent of rich earth, pungent mulch, tangy leaves and fresh air.

  On the ridge was a huge ancient tree, its branches spreading up to the sky. Here Ethan and Lily had built a tree house to play with their friends. The tree was easy to climb with plenty of footholds.

  High in its branches was a platform of rough hewn planks. A patched roof and walls sheltered it from the rain and wind. Here Ethan and Lily had hidden in their free time to play knuckles or cards with their friends, read books or daydream about faraway adventures.

  They tethered Moonbeam at the base of the tree. Aisha flopped down into the soft mulch at the bottom of the tree, while Ethan and Lily nimbly climbed up one-handed, carrying their packs and pails.

  They dumped their bundles and spread out the cloaks. The smell of the warm porridge made their stomachs rumble.

  ‘So now for the princess,’ Lily exclaimed. ‘I hope she’s still there. We can eat when we get back.’ Ethan stared longingly at the pails but simply nodded and swung his legs over the side of the platform for the climb down.

  ‘We will need to be careful,’ Ethan said. ‘There may be soldiers travelling back and forth along the track between Kenley and the hunting lodge. And we need to try to hide our tracks. I don’t like the idea of that Sniffer breathing down our necks. He gives me the creeps!’

  At that moment Sniffer was outside the gate of Lily and Ethan’s cottage. Around him Sedah soldiers rampaged, searching houses, barns and chicken coops for hidden people, animals and valuables. Any villagers found – though the Sedahs found fewer people than they expected – were rounded up ignominiously and herded into the largest storehouse for guarding.

  Sniffer ignored the chaos and screams around him. He fingered Moonbeam’s hoofprints in the soft earth outside the fence, quietly snuffling to himself. He picked up and sniffed a tiny tuft of white hair that had caught on the rough timber of the fence, where Moonbeam had rubbed her itchy cheek.

  Sniffer opened the gate and, crouching, almost on hands and knees, crawled down the front path. Moonbeam’s hoof had dislodged a fresh wedge of moss from a crack, and the metal horseshoe had left a white scratch on the red brick path. Sniffer carefully followed the clues – a broken twig of lavender, a crushed sprig of thyme, a hoofprint in a moist patch of earth.

  The trail led around the back of the pretty stone cottage, pausing at the kitchen door, then down through the back garden past the vegetable garden, beehives, chicken pen, barn and orchard, down to the back gate and into the meadow.

  Here the hoofprints were deeper and further apart. The horse had been galloping. Sniffer smiled to himself and started to lope across the meadow, easily following the swathe of bent and trodden grass the horse had left as it galloped through the fresh spring growth. This would be easy – like taking candy from a babe. The infidel princess would soon be in his hands, and Governor Lazlac would be pleased with him – very pleased.

  Moonbeam’s hoofprints were easily seen on the bank of the stream. Sniffer smiled again. He squatted beside the trail. There, clearly marked in the mud, was the pawprint of a dog. A large dog. Sniffer ran his hand lovingly over his knife. He would make short work of that dog, no matter how big it was. He snuffled in pleasure.

  He stood up and moved down the bank. He carefully forded the stream and searched the bank on the other side. Nothing. He frowned momentarily. He looked upstream. Nothing. He looked downstream. Nothing. His experienced eyes scanned the stream floor. Wait. A small boulder upstream looked like it may have been dislodged.

  Sniffer set off upstream towards the forest, wading slowly and carefully through the gurgling water, his eyes peeled for the tiniest sign of his quarry.

  Princess Roana was still lying under Ethan’s cloak and a coverlet of leaves and branches, the dagger beside her. She was dozing fitfully, shivering with cold and shock. The sour smell of vomit emanated from beside her. Blood still oozed from a wound on the side of her head, matting the golden ringlets into brownish clumps. Her face was streaked with tears.

  Lily wrinkled her nose.

  ‘She’s vomiting, perhaps she is concussed,’ Lily murmured, running her hands over the princess’s head, neck, back and legs. Lily had helped her mother tend to the sick and injured, and had been learning the skills of the healer since she could toddle behind Marnie’s skirts.

  ‘She has a nasty gash on the back of her head and quite a deep cut on her arm,’ Lily listed. ‘Lots of scratches and bruises, and the ankle is very swollen. But nothing seems to be broken.’

  Princess Roana moaned and her eyelids fluttered open, blue eyes staring around her in bewilderment.

  Ethan and Lily hoisted the barely conscious princess up into Moonbeam’s saddle. Lily climbed up behind her to hold her in the saddle. Ethan and Aisha padded along behind. Ethan walked backwards, gently ruffling the leaves with a fallen branch to disguise their tracks.

  At the tree house, Ethan and Lily worked together to pull Princess Roana up the tree. The princess did little to help them and she did not speak, crying out only when she was unexpectedly jarred.

  By the time they reached the top and all three had collapsed on the tree house floor, the princess’s lips and teeth were smeared with blood from biting against the pain. Ethan made a bed for Princess Roana from the cloaks, with some spare clothes rolled into a pillow, while Lily bathed the princess’s wounds and scratches in water scented with lavender oil.

  Lily then carefully removed the princess’s high-heeled white leather boots. The princess winced as the leather peeled away from the swollen, angry ankle. Lily bathed it in icy cold stream water, then bound it tightly in bandages and propped it up on one of the satchels as a pillow.

  Lily spooned some white willow bark decoction into Princess Roana’s mouth, then bathed her brow and neck in lavender-scented water.

  ‘This will help you sleep,’ Lily murmured.

  Princess Roana bore all this silently, but at the mention of sleep she suddenly pushed Lily’s hand away with a peremptory gesture.

  ‘I cannot rest now! Tell me, girl, what is the news of my father, the king?’ she commanded.

  Lily froze, her cheeks blanching. ‘My brother said your father died in the attack this morning. I’m sorry.’

  Roana bit her lip sharply, struggling with her emotions.

  ‘And the queen and Prince Caspar?’ she demanded coldly.

  ‘They have been taken prisoner by the Sedahs with the others who were at the ceremony,’ Lily replied in a low voice.

  ‘I see. And you should address me as “your highness” when you speak to me. That will be all.’ Roana turned her face away to the wall, only her trembling hands giving away any sign of emotion.

  Lily blushed furiously at this rebuke and busied herself stirring the porridge.

  ‘Your highness, would you like something to eat? It might make you feel better.’

  The princess took a mouthful of warm porridge, then gagged and spat it out in disgust.

  ‘What is that foul gruel?’ she snapped peevishly. ‘I cannot eat food that is fit only for pigs. Take it away.’ She turned her back on them and grumbled as she tried
to make herself comfortable on her rough bed.

  ‘Sorry, your highness, but we are all out of roast peacock today,’ retorted Ethan softly. The princess deigned not to hear him.

  Lily laughed silently and pulled a face at Ethan. Together they sat cross-legged on the floor to eat their own porridge.

  ‘A hot cup of tea would be lovely with this but we daren’t light a fire,’ Lily whispered.

  ‘I wish I knew what was going on,’ replied Ethan. ‘I wonder if Mama and Dadda are all right. What are we going to do? We can’t just sit here and wait. We must do something!’

  ‘Mama said we were to stay here, hiding, until she came for us. Besides, we have to look after her.’ Lily shrugged over her shoulder at the silent princess.

  Ethan scowled, shoulders hunched as he dug into the platform with the blade of his dagger.

  Back in Kenley, a soldier in black armour reported to Captain Malish that a group of villagers had been seen skulking off into the forest following a huge man with a black beard.

  ‘Get me Sniffer,’ bellowed Captain Malish. ‘I want him to track those villagers and bring them back to me – on the double!’

  ‘Sniffer’s gone, sir,’ murmured the unfortunate soldier. ‘He was seen splashing down the stream following some scent or other.’

  ‘Well, get after him and get him back here immediately. I want those villagers caught. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ saluted the soldier, racing after the mysterious Sniffer as fast as he could.

  The day crawled by listlessly. The princess dozed and whimpered in her sleep. Lily bathed her wounds again in the evening. They finished the porridge, sharing it with the princess, who this time reluctantly swallowed some. Princess Roana sipped on water from the flask, grimacing at its unfamiliar taste.

  Ethan had been right about the impending storm – it broke as night fell. Thunder crashed and lightning streaked the sky. The rain poured down, trickling through the rough roof and walls and puddling on the floor. Lily and Ethan slept fitfully, huddled together under their cloaks, trying in vain to keep dry and warm. When the sun rose, they woke stiff and cramped.

  ‘I feel disgusting,’ Lily complained. ‘I hurt all over and my clothes are damp!’

  ‘At least all that rain will make it harder for our friend Sniffer to track us,’ Ethan said cheerily.

  The princess tossed and turned deliriously at the sound of their voices.

  ‘She has a fever,’ Lily whispered, as she bathed the princess’s face, neck and ankle in cool stream water. ‘I think there must be an infection.’

  The princess took nothing all day except tiny sips of water from the flask and Marnie’s willow bark decoction.

  Ethan sat out on a branch gazing over the forest, his mind ticking furiously, while Lily tried to busy herself tending her patient. They ate bread and cheese, saying little. Both their faces were furrowed with frowns of anxiety as the day dragged by.

  The next night and day were equally torturous. The princess’s fever abated and she slept better. Ethan busied himself fetching water from the stream with Aisha, all the while watching the forest anxiously for signs of the invaders. For the moment, the forest was quiet.

  Aisha slipped off a couple of times to hunt for food. Lily watched over her patient, bathing her and offering frequent sips of water, and dozing whenever the princess was asleep.

  As dusk fell again, Ethan jumped to his feet, swinging his arms. ‘That’s it. I can’t stand this any more. We have waited for three days as Mama asked us to. I have to go and try to find out what is happening. I just can’t sit here any longer while Mama and Dadda …’ He trailed off.

  Lily compressed her lips and nodded anxiously. ‘I know. Ethan, please be careful.’

  Ethan ran lightly through the forest, flexing his tense and cramped muscles. Aisha bounded along beside him, snuffling the air. Ethan paused when he reached the path, his eyes and ears unnaturally alert. Which way? To the hunting lodge or the village?

  After a second’s hesitation he turned right to the village, slipping along the path in the dusk like a ghost. He kept to the hedgerows and walls bordering the fields. As he neared the village he stopped, eyes and ears straining.

  All was still. He was just about to continue along the road into the village when Aisha growled low and deep in her throat. He quietened her with a soft touch to her neck.

  In the shadows he could just make out two dark figures lurking on the arched stone bridge across the stream. A moment later a third figure joined them.

  ‘All well?’ queried a familiar voice.

  ‘Yes, Captain Malish.’

  ‘Any more villagers slinking back?’ Captain Malish enquired.

  ‘None on this watch.’

  ‘Good then. I think Sniffer must have caught most of them. Tomorrow we will torch the village and withdraw to the coast to join our ships.’

  ‘Good news, Captain – I’ll be pleased to leave this accursed place. I’ve heard there are ghosts and ghouls, and strange faery people out there in that dreadful forest,’ growled one of the guards.

  ‘Nonsense, man,’ Captain Malish retorted. ‘There are no ghosts or faeries out there. Get back to duty, and no more talk of magic or you’ll be feeling the stroke of my whip.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Of course, sir!’

  Captain Malish strode away towards the village. The two on the bridge shivered and looked nervously out into the darkness, before melting back into the shadows.

  Ethan turned and slipped further downstream. He waded across the stream as quietly as he could and crept towards his cottage. The familiar smell of lavender and roses wafted in the breeze. To his left he could hear the faint buzzing of his mother’s beehives.

  He listened carefully. The garden was dark and desolate, but the house, his home, was cheerily alight. Lanterns burned in every window. From the open casement of the dining room came a raucous noise of laughing, swearing, bragging and singing.

  People were in his home and it was not his family, or even their neighbours. They were dark strangers from another land, and they were sitting at his mother’s dining room table.

  Hot red anger bubbled up like lava. Ethan saw himself charging up the garden and screaming at these interlopers to get out! Get out of his home!

  But before he could move he sensed Aisha stiffen beside him, her hackles rising, her right paw lifting in the classic hunting pose and her tail lifting like a flagpole. He put his hand on her neck to quieten her before she growled and gave them away.

  He sank down to hide in the shadows behind the beehives. Aisha’s warning had been timely. So quietly that Ethan could not have heard them, he saw two darker shadows slip through the darkness of the garden. One tripped on something and cursed softly. Then they slipped away.

  Guards on patrol, thought Ethan. I will have to creep past them.

  Ethan had a huge advantage over the Sedah guards. To them, the terrain was unfamiliar. But Ethan had grown up in this garden – weeding the vegetables, spreading compost, playing hide and seek with Lily and Aisha, picking the fruit. He knew where everything was.

  Because of Willem’s favoured position as Royal Master of Horse, their house was one of the larger cottages in the village, with sprawling gardens and several outbuildings.

  Ethan sat quietly for a minute while he visualised the garden in his mind’s eye.

  Then he dropped to his knees and started to crawl. Aisha padded quietly behind him. He crawled under the fruit trees, smelling the sweet scent of the blossoms above his head and feeling the soft tufts of grass under his palms. He paused at the end of the orchard and listened intently. No sign yet of the patrol.

  He crawled on past the smaller open sheds and the bigger barn that usually housed their animals, melting deep into the shadows. Next was the vegetable garden with long rows of lettuce, spinach, potatoes, carrots and strawberries, and trellises for beans, peppers and tomatoes.

  The noise from the house was getting louder. Ethan had nearly reached
the dark shadow of the house when Aisha stiffened again, her raised hackles warning Ethan that someone was close by. He calmed her and quickly slithered the last few metres into the deepest shadow. He silently prayed that the noise of the festivities inside would mask his own noise.

  Again he felt rather than saw two shadows cautiously prowling through the night.

  He lay still, scarcely breathing, with his hand warningly on Aisha’s neck. The shadows disappeared once more. All that was left was the strong smell of bruised thyme where they had stomped through Marnie’s herb garden. His mother would have been furious.

  When Ethan was sure they were gone, he carefully stood up to peek through the kitchen window. There was no-one in the room, just a lantern burning on the table. Ethan gasped. He had never seen his home like this. The kitchen was chaos. Herbs had been tipped all over the floor, the furniture had been overturned, china was smashed.

  He crawled on to the next window – the dining room where all the noise was coming from. He carefully peeked.

  Sitting around the table were a number of soldiers, happily toasting their good fortune with Marnie’s homemade cherry wine. The invaders had removed their helmets and their skin was pale and sallow, yet slightly flushed with fire, good food and fine wine.

  Ethan crouched beneath the window, hoping to overhear something useful.

  ‘Here’s to our last night here, comrades,’ cheered one soldier. ‘Tomorrow we will burn this forsaken village and return to our ships with all our plunder. The day after tomorrow we take to sea to sail to the infidel’s capital of Tira. In a week we will be standing on the palace walls of Tira, lords of all Tiregian!’

  Another soldier joined in. ‘Then we shall fill the holds with treasures and slaves to send home to Sedah – and we shall set sail, leaving the horizon burning with the fires of a dozen villages. Our priests will chant prayers against the unfaithful. It will be the dawn of a new age, the age of our powerful Emperor Raef. Krad be praised.’