‘Aye. And I was once,’ said the warder. ‘Many’s the time I’ve ridden into battle with the best of them. And many a man I’ve killed.’
He smacked his lips at the memory and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as the sun shone directly through the narrow window.
‘What happened then?’ asked Sebastian.
‘Ah, it’s the story of my life,’ said the warder. ‘There’s no justice for the likes of us. I was tried for thieving. And I swear it wasn’t me that done it!’
‘I believe you,’ said Sebastian untruthfully. ‘Why don’t you sit down for a moment and tell me about it? I’ve some influential friends and although I’m a prisoner it may not always be so. I might be able to put in a good word for you.’
The warder’s eyes travelled to the wine again.
‘And if you should feel like a drop of wine while you talk, who’s to know? It seems a pity to waste it,’ added Sebastian.
The warder sat down on the stool and picked up the flagon. He began to talk about the trial and the evidence against him. He became very heated in his own defence and soon drained the flagon to the last drop. Then gradually his voice became slower and his eyelids began to droop. Finally he stopped talking altogether and began to snore.
Sebastian got up quietly and crept over to the warder. His heart was beating quickly as he unhooked the ring of keys from the warder’s belt. The warder snored away quite undisturbed. Sebastian snapped his fingers close to the man’s ear. He didn’t wake. The poison had worked! Sebastian dragged the body over to the mattress, and began to remove his clothes. Soon he was dressed in the uniform of a warder of the Tower. It fitted him badly, being made for one much stouter than he, but he thought it would do. He put the sapphire ring into his pocket, threw the green cloak over the sleeping figure and picked up the trencher and the flagon. He went out into the corridor locking the door behind him. Then he stood, hesitating. ‘So far, so good,’ he said to himself. ‘What should I do now?’
‘Hey, you!’ came a voice from along the corridor. Sebastian’s first impulse was to run for it, but he wisely restrained himself and waited. A man, wearing the same uniform as himself, came up to him, carrying a short plank on which were two wooden plates of potatoes and a hunk of bread. There were also two tankards of liquid, presumably beer.
‘Take this to the guards at the main gate, will you? I must go back and help in the kitchen. Rations are short this week and I’ve got to find something for the guards in the jewel house yet.’
Sebastian nodded and took the food. A plan was forming in his mind. As soon as he was sure no one was around, he put the food down on the floor, took the ring from his pocket and carefully put two or three drops of poison into each tankard. Then he picked up the plank and went downstairs and out into the courtyard. He walked quickly across to the building where the jewels were kept and went in.
‘Early today, aren’t you?’ said one of the guards as he entered the jewel room and put the food down on a table by the door.
Sebastian merely grinned and nodded. He left them and went off down a corridor. He found an embrasure in the wall which was dark and shadowy. He slipped in and waited.
He heard the guards talking to one another as they ate. The embrasure smelt strongly and he had his own suspicions as to its function. After a considerable length of time, the talking ceased and there was a long silence.
Sebastian sped back along the corridor. The guards were slumped on the floor of the jewel room, fast asleep. He crept over to the table on which the jewels lay. He picked up the Stone and felt its power surge through his hand. Then from the shadows rose up the great dog, his eyes gleaming in anger and a terrible growling coming from his throat.
Sebastian had forgotten about the dog and realized too late that it was a fatal error in his planning.
‘Good boy. There’s a nice fellow,’ he said nervously, taking a step backwards.
The dog advanced towards him, unmoved by these endearments. Sebastian felt his face break out in moisture.
Then the dog’s eyes left his throat and travelled past him to the door.
Sebastian turned quickly and saw the great black-and-white ship’s cat, its back arched and its fur on end. The cat spat venomously and the dog could stand it no longer. With one bound he leaped past Sebastian and both animals raced away at tremendous speed down the corridor.
Sebastian put the Stone in his pocket and ran down the steps into the courtyard.
‘Now for the main gate. I should be able to get through in this uniform. What to do then, I don’t know. I suppose the ship has left for Spain. What a good thing the cat didn’t go too. That cat, though. It was remarkably fortunate for me, appearing just then. I wonder, was it too much of a coincidence?’
By now he had reached the gate. He looked at the impassive faces of the guards. They stared straight ahead as if he weren’t there.
He stepped forward. Two spears met a few inches in front of his nose, with a clang of metal.
‘Halt! Password!’
Sebastian stood still, horrified. He hadn’t thought of this. What on earth should he do now? Suddenly a horseman galloped up behind him, almost knocking him down.
‘The raven’s death,’ he shouted. ‘Out of my way, men. I’ve urgent business for the king.’
The guards stepped hastily aside and the horseman passed through. As the sun struck his head on the other side of the archway his hair glowed silver and Sebastian knew, without a doubt, that it was Fandeagle.
The guards once more stood before him.
‘The raven’s death,’ said Sebastian and they drew back to let him pass.
Sebastian ran through, hoping to see Fandeagle on the other side. But there was no sign of him. The horseman might never have existed. But before him, running down the hill to the wharf was the black-and-white ship’s cat. He ran after it. The cat jumped into a ferryboat which was moored to the quay. Then Sebastian saw something which gladdened his heart immeasurably. There, far out beyond the river’s mouth were the three great masts of the ship.
He sprang into the boat.
‘Will you take me out to that ship? As quickly as possible, please,’ he said to the ferryman.
‘I’ll have my fare first, young master. One penny for taking you there. Two more if you want to go quickly.’
Sebastian searched through the pockets of the warder’s uniform. It yielded no more than a farthing.
‘Will you take me for this?’ he said, holding out the sapphire ring.
The ferryman’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. He took the ring and stuffed it into his coat.
‘Sit you down and I’ll have you there faster than you can blink.’
He pulled the mooring rope from its ring and began to row out from the bank. They slipped quickly past the murky channel of Traitor’s Gate and joined the flow of river traffic. Despite his considerable age, the ferryman, spurred on no doubt by the thought of the wealth in his pocket, rowed like a man in the prime of life.
Now they were close enough to see the ship clearly. The sails were being unfurled from the yardarms and the anchor was drawn up from the sea-bed, dripping with slime.
‘Ahoy there!’ shouted Sebastian, as they came up to the ship.
One of the sailors heard his cry and soon a crowd of them were leaning over the rails of the ship looking down at the small boat which tossed on the water. Sebastian picked up the ship’s cat so that they could all see it. At once a ladder was thrown over the side and the sling was lowered. In another moment Sebastian and the cat were safely aboard.
‘Well, Mr Jones,’ said the captain, as he bent to stroke the cat. ‘I’d given him up for lost and you too. Thought you’d slip off for a little jaunt in the city, did you? Midshipmen aren’t hard to come by but a cat like this — well you were lucky to catch us. I’ve had every corner of this ship searched for that cat. I was sure he wouldn’t have stayed behind and, what with the Keeper’s ale, none of us could be certain if he’d come ba
ck with us or not. Well, I should report you for coming back to the ship late and for being incorrectly dressed but if you’ve a good explanation for your conduct, I’ll overlook it just this once as you’ve brought the cat back. I don’t mind admitting I was in two minds about putting out to sea without it.’
‘Where’s your uniform, Mr Jones?’ asked Greville.
‘I’ll wager that the warders got you drunk and took your uniform for a lark, eh?’ laughed one of the sailors.
‘Something like that,’ replied Sebastian.
‘All right, men. Get the ship under way. We must make up for the time we’ve lost if we’re going to meet the fleet from Spain. Looks like a storm coming up, too. This heat’s unnatural. Mr Jones, go below and change into uniform.’
‘Aye, aye, sir,’ said Sebastian as he walked away to where he hoped his quarters might be.
‘Mr Jones!’ roared the captain. ‘Are you so drunk that you don’t know the way to your own cabin?’ The sailors shouted with laughter. ‘Greville, take Midshipman Jones to his cabin and give him a glass of salt-and-water. We’ll need all hands on deck if the wind gets up.’
Greville led him down a hatchway to the officer’s quarters and showed him his cabin.
‘Why don’t you lie down for a minute or two,’ he suggested. ‘Do you more good than salt-and-water. As the captain says we’ve a rough trip before us and you’ll need a clear head once we’ve picked up some speed.’
Sebastian was only too pleased to do as the sailor suggested, for he was dreading the moment when his total ignorance of seamanship would be exposed. He found some clothes in a trunk in the cabin and put them on. He put Saturn’s Stone into the pocket of his naval uniform and then swung himself into the hammock. He lay there, trying to recall all the books he had ever read about life at sea and the duties of the officers. He was still trying to work out what a halyard was when, lulled by the gentle rocking of the ship, he fell asleep.
He awoke, what seemed like only a few minutes later, to find himself lying on the floor. The lantern and hammock were swinging violently and the cabin was pitching from side to side, flinging the contents everywhere. Sebastian stumbled to his feet, checked that the Stone was still in his pocket, and staggered out on to the deck.
A terrific howling filled his ears and he grabbed hold of a rail to support himself.
‘She’s sinking fast, Mr Jones!’ screamed a voice in his ear, above the roar of the wind.
Sebastian saw, through the flying spray, the streaming face of Greville close to his own.
‘Get to the boats, lad. She’s going under!’ shouted Greville and his strong hand gripped Sebastian’s shoulder, pulling him forward. Sebastian slithered over the sodden boards, clutching on to Greville’s arm. The ship almost stood on its bows as a great wave crashed against the stern, a wall of grey strength slashed with foam. The wind shrieked through the rigging and tore at the sheets of ragged sail. Lightning cracked against the feverish sky and the thunder was drowned by the crash of the mainmast as it snapped like a twig and fell to the deck. Sebastian saw many sailors running to the small boats slung against the rails. Frantically they fought to lower the boats into the boiling sea. One was floating at last. At once it was filled to overflowing with sailors who began to row away from the ship. A sheet of stinging spray and a deluge of water momentarily blinded Sebastian. He fought to clear his streaming eyes and watch the tiny boat heaving on the churning sea. A moment later a huge wave stretched up like a giant hand and dragged the little boat to the depths of the ocean.
When those on the plunging ship saw the fate of their comrades, they ceased to struggle with the boats. Some tried to kneel in prayer while others shook their fists at the dark sky. Suddenly Sebastian saw a square of light before him as if a piece had been cut out of the sky. He knew at once that this was the only escape from the merciless sea. He tried to pull Greville towards it but the old sailor cried out in terror when he saw it.
The ship’s cat leaped from the deck into the light and for a moment he was gold like a sun. Then he vanished. The great ship heaved itself up on its bows and slowly began its final descent to the ocean bed. Sebastian leaped into the square of light. There was a shudder of agony from the ship as she smashed like an egg-shell and the wind sobbed itself into silence.
SEBASTIAN sat up in bed. For a moment he couldn’t think what had happened. Then he looked at the painting of the ship on the wall and slowly his memory returned. He got out of bed and, as he did so, something fell out of the pocket of his night-shirt on to the floor. It was the oval, crimson stone.
‘Good,’ he said to himself as he picked it up. ‘A successful end to that adventure, anyway.’
He went over to the painting and studied it for a while. Could it really have been that ship on which he had sailed? It seemed impossible, now that he was back in his own time.
He stretched, yawned loudly and then wondered where everyone was. The house seemed unnaturally quiet.
‘Melissa!’ he called. There was no answer. He went into her room. The window was open and he went over to look out.
The garden was deserted. But no, not quite. There was someone standing in the shadows of the trees. Someone very tall and strange-looking. He had a helmet on his head which shone brightly and he was holding something in his hand which moved continually. Sebastian stared harder trying to focus his eyes on the still figure. Yes, they were actually snakes entwined round his staff and those white things on his heels were wings. Sebastian realized at once who it was. He had spent many hours at school, laboriously translating passages of the Greek myths into English and he knew that the man with the winged sandals was Hermes. He decided to go at once and find out what was happening.
He went back into his room, flung on some clothes and went downstairs out into the garden.
As soon as he saw Sebastian coming, Hermes strode forward to meet him.
‘I have been waiting for you to return, Sebastian,’ said Hermes, in his deep voice. ‘I hope you have quite recovered?’
‘Recovered?’
‘You were gravely ill last night.’
‘Oh. To tell you the truth I had quite forgotten about it. I feel as right as anything now, thanks.’
‘I am pleased to hear it. And may I ask the outcome of your journey?’
For answer, Sebastian held up the Stone of Saturn, which he had remembered to transfer into the pocket of his jacket. The sun turned its colour from crimson to fire.
‘Well done, Sebastian. You have exceeded all our hopes. Now we must go to the Overworld. Your sister has already left with Fandeagle, taking the other two elements of the Elixir. Fandeagle will prepare his armies for a battle against the forces of Zabdureth, but if we can join the Elixir in time we may be able to prevent bloodshed.’
‘How shall we get there?’ asked Sebastian.
‘We shall walk.’
‘Is it far?’
‘No. Hardly any distance if you know the way.’
They set off together down the long winding drive. Sebastian felt very overburdened by his jacket for the weather was warm with hardly a breath of air. But if he left his jacket behind he would have to carry the Stone in his hand for all to see. He felt this might be unwise in view of his experience in the east tower the night before. By the time they reached the gates, he was almost melting with heat and fervently hoped that it wasn’t going to be a long walk, although, despite Hermes’s words, he didn’t see how it could be anything else.
The lane, however, was cooler, shaded with trees and scented with roses.
‘Tell me,’ said Hermes, as they strolled along, ‘what is the most interesting thing you have seen in all the strange things that have happened since you have been at Hadlows? The thing that remains most firmly in your memory?’
‘That’s rather difficult to say,’ replied Sebastian. ‘I don’t think I shall ever forget any of it. But I suppose one thing that is particularly vivid because it was so totally unexpected was when I was looking for
the Fire. At one point I was running through some caves, trying to get out of Hell. Part of the wall split open and I saw a great city, shining and magnificent. There were many machines in the street and one flying through the air. I thought it was perhaps a vision of the future. I don’t suppose I shall live to see it, though. If it was the future it must be many hundreds of years ahead. And I don’t think I really want to see it, anyway.’
‘The coming century will bring many changes,’ said Hermes. ‘Man’s knowledge will overtake his understanding. And it may well be that you will see the shining city and its machines. But the change will be gradual enough for it to seem quite natural. Many wonderful things will be discovered by man and used for his benefit. And of course the reverse is also true. I should very much like to hear how you found the Stone.’
So Sebastian began to describe what had happened when he found himself a midshipman in the Navy of 1689, and enjoyed himself enormously as he relived the adventure at a safe distance. He was so involved with the story that he failed to notice that the countryside around him was slowly changing. Suddenly he saw that the road beneath his feet was covered with leaves, dry and yellow and that they were falling from the trees in great drifts. A slight wind had risen which rustled the trees, now brown and gold. He bent down and picked up a smooth shining chestnut.
‘Hallo, that’s odd. Surely it’s much too soon for conkers?’
He looked at the surrounding hills. They were dried and red, the parched grass flattened by an increasing wind.
‘It’s autumn,’ smiled Hermes. ‘Go on with your story.’
Sebastian knew that there was no point in questioning Hermes about the sudden alteration in the season, for if Hermes had wished to explain he would have done so. He kept a sharp eye on the landscape and continued with his adventures.
It became increasingly cold and Sebastian was very glad that he had brought his jacket. He saw that the trees and hedgerows were now quite bare of leaves, and just as he finished describing the great storm and the sinking of the ship, a few flakes of snow began to fall. The sky grew pale over the hills, which became increasingly mountainous.
The House Called Hadlows Page 14