The Starthorn Tree

by Kate Forsyth

  ‘Hesitaters, of course,’ Durrik said with a grin.

  ‘And what potatoes get on your nerves?’ Pedrin said peevishly, having heard all these jokes many times before.

  ‘You can’t mean me, surely? Milady, you don’t find me irritating, do you?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ she answered. ‘Very irritating. I have never heard such feeble witticisms in all my life. You boys are truly tomfools, just like Briony said.’

  ‘Well, aught is better than just a-sitting round and a-waiting for Mags’s father to hand us over to Lord Zavion,’ Durrik said. ‘Do you think he’ll still be angry about his lens being broken, Lisandre?’

  She just looked at him. Durrik sighed. ‘I suppose he will be. Tessula’s tears, I wish I’d never set foot in his stupid crystal tower.’

  ‘Me too,’ Pedrin scowled.

  Some time later, Diamond Joe and his two favourite henchmen came over to their cage, the bandit chief smiling widely. ‘I hope you find your quarters comfortable, milady?’

  ‘This is an outrage,’ Lisandre said stiffly. ‘How dare you treat one of the Ziv in this manner! Do you not understand I am the second cousin, once removed, of the king himself?’

  His smile widened. ‘Indeed I do, and I’m glad of it, I assure you, milady.’

  ‘If you think keeping me in a cage and feeding me pig-food is the way to improve your fortunes, you are very much mistaken,’ Lisandre said in her iciest voice. ‘If you approach Lord Zavion with your ridiculous demand for ransom, he will simply send in his soldiers and kill you all. The so-called Regent is not known for his clemency. He thinks my father was far too lenient in not curbing the depredations of your criminal associates a long time ago. He will raze this camp to the ground, and anyone left living will be hung. I can promise you this with all assurance.’

  Diamond Joe still smiled, but his henchmen looked rather nervous.

  ‘However, if you allow me to go on my way unmolested, I assure you my brother Count Zygmunt of Estelliana will grant a pardon to you and to all your men and family, despite the grievous insult offered to me.’ Lisandre cast a venomous glance at Mags, who was lolling nearby, listening. Mags tossed her head and impertinently swung the jewelled christening egg to and fro.

  ‘But everyone says your brother is so close to death, he barely breathes,’ Diamond Joe protested. ‘I think I’ll try me luck with the starkin scum who actually rules.’

  ‘My brother will die if you do not let me go,’ Lisandre said, her voice shaking despite all her attempts to preserve her icy calm. She took a deep breath and said urgently, ‘I give you my word Ziggy will grant you all a pardon. You will no longer be an outlaw, forced to beg and steal for a living. You will be able to return to Estelliana, a free man, nay, a hero even. My brother will give you land, a house, gold, whatever it is you want. You’ll be able to walk the streets of Levanna-On-The-Lake with your head held high, instead of creeping about in the dark of the moon, a price on your head and every man a potential traitor.’

  Mags had crept closer and was listening with a look of longing on her face. Her father laughed, though, and said, ‘You think I’m such a cabbage-head that I’d trust the word of a starkin?’

  ‘My word is my bond,’ Lisandre said desperately, but he only laughed and stepped away.

  ‘Lord Zavion will not pay you a ransom for my release!’ Lisandre called after him. ‘He will descend on you like a gibgoblin upon a baby goat. You will all die a traitor’s death and I’m glad!’

  There was no-one left to listen, though, and Lisandre flung herself upon the muddy ground and sobbed heart-brokenly. Briony comforted her as best she could, but all the starkin girl could say was, ‘Ziggy’s going to die, he’s going to die.’

  ‘Sedgely will come, he’ll rescue us,’ Briony said. ‘We just need to wait.’

  But Sedgely did not come. Eventually the bandits began to snore loudly, most of them lying where they had fallen. Once all was quiet, Pedrin and Durrik began desperately to test the bars of the cage, but the saplings had been hammered deep into the iron-hard ground and the boys were not strong enough to shift them. The door was tightly chained and fastened with an enormous padlock they had no hope of breaking. They tried, though, spending all their strength on the effort, until at last they had to stop, trembling with fatigue and grinding their jaws in frustration.

  Exhausted with emotion, Lisandre fell asleep with her head on Briony’s lap, but the others were all too cold and uncomfortable and anxious. They knew Diamond Joe had sent one of his men to seek out the soldiers still searching for Lisandre in the forest. They knew from the bandits’ conversation that the soldiers were not very far away. There was little doubt they would be in Lord Zavion’s hands by morning time.

  There was a faint rustle. Briony’s head jerked up and she leant forward. A small, quick shadow darted through the mist beginning to rise from the ground.

  ‘Is it Sedgely?’ Durrik whispered hopefully.

  Briony shook her head.

  ‘’Tis me,’ Mags whispered. She had taken off the red dress and looked like the girl they knew again, though very much cleaner.

  ‘Come to crow?’ Pedrin said bitterly.

  ‘Nah. Wouldn’t waste me breath,’ Mags replied. ‘I’ve come to help—mebbe.’

  ‘Why would you want to help us?’ Pedrin demanded. ‘You got what you wanted.’

  She hesitated, then jerked her head at the sleeping Lisandre. ‘You been with that starkin scum for a while. Her word any good?’

  ‘If you mean does she a-keep her promises, well, I think she’d try,’ Briony answered quietly.

  Mags was silent for a while, then she asked abruptly, ‘What about this Lord Zavion? Is it true what she says about him or is it all bluster?’

  ‘I think ’tis true,’ Briony said. ‘He’s a vain, ruthless man, and doesn’t care about the hearthkin or anyone else for that matter. It would irk him bad to be beholden to a bandit. He’s likely to pretend to be a-willing to talk terms and then set a trap for your father. All he needs to do is fly in more troops on his sisika birds, under the cover of darkness, and a-land in the nearest clearing.’

  Mags made a little murmur in her throat. She was silent for a while, then said gruffly, ‘Wake her up. I want to make a bargain with the starkin scum.’

  ‘Don’t call her that,’ Durrik burst out. ‘She’s not scum. I know she gives herself airs and graces, but she’s really a nice person underneath.’

  ‘She has you bedazzled,’ Mags said scornfully. ‘I suppose you think so because she’s pretty. Boys are all the same.’

  ‘Am not,’ Pedrin snapped. ‘I’m not bedazzled.’

  ‘Could’ve fooled me!’

  ‘I’m not!’

  She shrugged her shoulders impatiently. ‘Stop all your a-blathering, I haven’t time for it. Wake her up.’

  Gently Briony shook Lisandre awake. She yawned and rubbed her eyes and sat up, murmuring, ‘Huh?’

  ‘Mags wants to talk to you.’

  Lisandre was awake instantly. ‘Well, I do not wish to converse with her. Tell her to go away.’

  ‘She says she’ll help us.’

  ‘I think she has helped quite enough already.’

  ‘I think she wants to make a bargain.’

  ‘Indeed?’

  ‘Did you mean what you said, about your brother giving me pa a pardon?’ Mags burst out. ‘And a fine townhouse? With glass in the windows and pink silk curtains? And a real fireplace with a chimbley?’

  Lisandre nodded slowly, surprised out of her hostility. ‘If you helped us, I’m sure Ziggy would be grateful,’ she said. ‘And he truly is very fair. If he knew I’d promised you something, he would honour that promise, I’m sure of that.’

  Mags pulled out a small leather wallet and opened it to show a collection of slim steel tools. ‘Me pa’s a-going to be so angry,’ she said, half-fearfully, half-joyfully, as she slid two of the tools into the lock and carefully manipulated them. ‘I’m a-going to have to run away aga
in.’

  ‘What are those things?’ Pedrin asked curiously.

  ‘Me pa’s lock-picking tools,’ she answered with a grin. ‘I nicked them from his coat pocket. Oh, he’s a-going to be spitting blood!’

  ‘Would he really beat you?’ Briony said sympathetically.

  ‘Pa? Leeblimey, nah! Of course not. But he’ll yell at me, and forbid me from a-leaving camp. He always does.’

  ‘What about your ma?’ Pedrin asked, thinking with a pang of his own mother and wondering if she and Mina were still locked up, and how they were faring.

  ‘Don’t have nah ma,’ Mags said matter-of-factly. ‘She were killed by the starkin. When Pa couldn’t pay the taxes, they a-burnt down our home. Me baby brother was asleep inside and me ma ran in to try to save him. They both got killed. That’s why me pa turned outlaw. He swore revenge on the starkin and he’s been a-bothering them ever since, a-stealing their gold and jewels, and a-trying to persuade the hearthkin to turn rebel. They all be too scared, though, the cabbage-heads.’

  Lisandre was staring at her with horrified eyes. ‘Oh, that is so awful,’ she whispered. ‘Surely the soldiers could not have known your brother was in the house still?’

  ‘Didn’t stop t’ask,’ Mags said simply. ‘Me whole family could’ve been in there for all they cared. They just rode up, beat me pa into a black-and-blue swoon, and then a-fired the cottage. Didn’t give us time to get aught out, not a scrap of clothing or a bite of food. There’d been a drought that summer, which was why the crops had failed. House didn’t take long to burn. I was out a-tending the pigs when I saw the smoke. By the time I ran back across the yard there was naught much left but cinders.’

  Lisandre’s hands were clenched tightly. ‘Lord Zavion has a lot to answer for!’

  ‘Oh, it warn’t the Regent who ordered it,’ Mags said, ‘’Twas your precious pa.’

  ‘My pa?’ Lisandre whispered. ‘You don’t mean it was my father who . . .’

  ‘Yeah, sure. And me pa’s not the only one. Justabouts every man here has a similar tale to tell.’

  Lisandre was stricken into silence. Her fingers worked at the coarse cloth of her pinafore, but her eyes stared blindly out into the night.

  Just then the lock clicked open. Mags gave a mocking bow. ‘Your freedom, milady.’

  As she stowed the tools away in her pocket, the children crawled out thankfully, stretching their cramped limbs.

  ‘We’ll need all our stuff,’ Pedrin commanded. ‘And where are Thundercloud and Snowflake? I hope someone milked her, she’ll be in pain otherwise.’

  ‘They’re in with t’other goats, I can’t be a-getting them,’ Mags said. ‘You’ll have to leave them.’

  Pedrin was outraged. ‘I can’t leave me goats! Nah, we have to get them.’

  ‘And I want my christening egg back,’ Lisandre said. ‘And my dress.’

  ‘Nah, they’re mine now! Losers, weepers.’

  ‘They’re not yours, they’re mine.’

  ‘Not any more.’

  Lisandre sat down. ‘Then the bargain is void. I cannot and will not give away my christening egg. It was a gift from the king himself. Besides, you are not permitted to carry it. If you were ever seen with it, you would lose your hand, if not your life. Only the Ziv may own such a thing.’

  ‘You let Sedgely have your brother’s egg.’

  ‘I did not let him have it, he took it and I have not been able to get it back. Besides, Sedgely is a wildkin, he lives in the Perilous Forest a million miles from anywhere. You want to live at Levanna-On-The-Lake where other people will see you. That’s different.’

  ‘Will you girls stop a-bickering!’ Pedrin hissed. ‘You’ll wake the bloody bandits!’

  ‘I will not go without my egg,’ Lisandre said obstinately. ‘I’ll give you all my other jewels and the dress too, if you want it, but not my egg.’

  Mags suddenly gave in. ‘All right then, let’s just get the stuff and get out of here before somebody hears us. The goats are penned up over there, Pedrin, if you want to risk a-waking everyone up with the bleating. I’ll sneak in and get everything else. That’ll show Pa I’m as good a thief as any of his bully-boys!’

  Mist swirled and scudded along the ground, though overhead the sky was thick with stars. Pedrin crept along to the pen where the livestock were all tethered, having to step over the occasional snoring bandit. They all stank of apple-ale and he thought with some scorn how stupid they all were, to drink until they could not move in the very heart of the Perilous Forest. Even the man who had been given the watch lay sleeping, a ceramic pot hanging from his hand.

  Thundercloud heard him coming and leapt to his feet, bleating his outrage at being locked up in a pen crammed with dirty swine and common, woolly-brained sheep. In vain Pedrin tried to shush him, but Thundercloud only tossed his long horns and broadcast his displeasure. Pedrin scrambled over the paling fence, landed on his hands and knees in squishy, stinking mud and seized the goat’s nose in his hand, pinching the nostrils shut. Thundercloud could not bleat if he could not breathe, and so eventually he had to quieten, though he put up a good fight first.

  When Pedrin had finally subdued him, he knelt in the vile-smelling muck and listened intently, terrified one of the bandits would have woken at the ruckus. All was quiet. There was only the soft shuffling noises of the forest at night. He relaxed his hand on the high-boned bridge of Thundercloud’s nose and the billy-goat shook his head irritably and tried to swipe Pedrin with his horns, but did not trumpet again.

  All the animals in the pen were uneasy, though, milling around and muttering. Pedrin had to fight his way through to the gate, dragging Thundercloud by his collar. His hand was on the latch when he heard something that made his heart jolt and a cold sweat break out on his body. It was the flapping of wings.

  He leant on the gate, listening so hard his ears felt as unnaturally large and sensitive as a bat’s. The sound came again and he looked fearfully up at the sky. High in the sky, the moonlight shining on their outstretched white wings, were rank upon serried rank of sisika birds. They were descending quickly, the only sound of their approach the ominous beat of their wings.

  For a moment Pedrin was paralysed with indecision. He could not let the bandits lie there snoring, though, with starkin soldiers descending upon them in deadly silence. They would all be slaughtered, Mags’s father among them, and then the soldiers would simply fan out through the forest until they caught the children too. So Pedrin swung open the gate and, as a triumphant Thundercloud went bounding away through the camp, Snowflake leaping beside him, Pedrin scrambled atop a barrel, beating a feed tray with a metal ladle. The sound was horrendous.

  ‘Starkin a-coming,’ he shouted. ‘Wake up! Starkin a-coming!’

  All round the clearing, bandits woke with grunts and confused mutters. They rolled over, groping for weapons, shouting the alarm. Pedrin whistled to his goats and they came leaping to his side, one slim and white, the other shaggy and black, both bleating with joy to be united with him again. The three of them went hurtling through the camp, bounding over sleepy, bewildered bandits, until they reached the others, who crouched half-terrified, half-indignant on the far side of the camp.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Lisandre demanded. ‘I thought the idea was to creep out of here as quietly as we can. The whole camp is awake now!’

  ‘Starkin,’ Pedrin panted and pointed up at the sky. The stars were all swamped now by waves of white wings, for the sisika birds were coming down to land.

  Mags leapt to her feet, dropping the bags and bundles she had been carrying in her arms. ‘Me pa!’ she cried. ‘I have to warn him!’

  Pedrin held her back. ‘There he is, he’s awake, he knows,’ he said all in a tumble. ‘Come on, we have to get out of here while all is confusion. I’ve done what I can to warn the bandits, ’tis up to them now.’

  Battle had been joined in the clearing. They saw the flash of steel as the bandits attacked with swords and knives and axes, and th
e thrust of spears as the starkin retaliated, and then the first stab of blue lightning as one of the starkin fired his fusillier.

  Mags was sobbing. ‘They’ll all be killed.’

  ‘I did warn them,’ Lisandre said.

  The bandit-girl turned on her, hands clenched. ‘Shut up, shut up! I hate you! This is all your fault! You starkin scum are all the same, smug arrogant bastards . . .’

  To everyone’s surprise, Lisandre burst out crying too, saying incoherently, ‘We’re not, we’re not. I swear it’s not my fault. I did try to warn them. Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Hush, hush,’ Briony said. ‘Come, Pedrin is right, we can’t stay here, we’ll be killed or captured. Come away, come away.’ She drew both girls away into the concealing mist, Durrik limping along behind. Mags dragged against her hand, staring back at the bandit camp. The scene was suddenly lit with an eerie blue glare as more fusilliers were fired. Mags gave an ear-piercing wail. ‘Nah, nah, me pa!’

  They all turned back, in time to see Diamond Joe zapped by a bolt of blue lightning. For a moment he was silhouetted mid-thrust, black outlined in crackling blue, then he simply dissolved away into nothing.

  Mags screamed but in one quick stride Pedrin had his arm about her shoulders, his other hand clamped over her mouth. She fought him, trying to get back, but he dragged her away, hissing at the others to follow. In a dazed, stumbling run they obeyed, the goats leading the way through the dark forest tangle.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  For a time they could only stumble forward, sometimes running, sometimes walking, clinging to each other and to their baggage, desperate to get away from the bandit camp. Mags moved like a sleepwalker, quiet now except for an occasional shuddering sigh. It was very dark and gloomy under the trees, mist swirling up about their faces. If it had not been for the white bob of Snowflake’s tail they would have wandered off the path and been lost, but the little nanny-goat led them true, bleating occasionally in reassurance.

  After a long while, Pedrin called a halt and they all sat down and rested, limp with shock and weariness. No-one had a word to say. It had grown light enough for them to see each other’s strained, white faces but everyone looked away into the dripping, fog-shrouded undergrowth. Mags had her face buried in her knees. It was cold and the children were glad to huddle into their cloaks and blankets.