Dragonfire

by Anne Forbes

  “Whatever comes from it will be nothing like the trouble we’ve already had,” snorted the MacArthur.

  They moved down to the loch side and Arthur showed his happiness at seeing Lady Ellan by kneeling awkwardly in front of her and bending his head to the ground.

  “Arthur!” she chided gently. “What’s this that I’ve been hearing? Setting the hill ablaze with your fire?”

  Arthur looked more than upset; he looked a thoroughly mortified dragon. As Clara watched, he covered his head with his wings in shame. Large tears welled from his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. They were no ordinary tears, however, for as they splashed to the ground, the strangest thing happened. The tears solidified into glowing jewels that shone with a piercing amber light that Dougal MacLeod would have recognized immediately.

  “How gorgeous!” Clara exclaimed, picking them up and holding them out to Lady Ellan. “Arthur’s tears have turned into beautiful jewels!”

  Lady Ellan held them in her hand and looked at Arthur. “They are very rare and very precious,” she said softly. “Dear Arthur, don’t cry. Truly there is no need. My father and I hope you will be very happy here in Loch Ness and if you’re not, you know we will be more than happy to have you back in the hill.” She cast her father a warning glance as she said this and with an effort he bit back the words that had sprung to his lips.

  “Now, Arthur, you will really have to stop crying, you know, for I see your Nessie swimming through the loch towards us.”

  Arthur removed his wings from his face and reassured by her smiling words, scrambled to his feet and turned to face the loch. Lady Ellan walked with him to the water’s edge where the waves were no longer gentle ripples but surges of brown water that crashed along the shore. Nessie had arrived!

  Clara cringed back against Neil as the enormous creature heaved its massive bulk out of the water just feet from where she stood. Arthur held no fear for her but this dragon was very different and much bigger than Arthur. Her scaly hide, dripping with water and weeds, was dark grey with tinges of livid green, and her face had a speculative, hungry look that gave them all pause for thought. Indeed, Sir James made a quick calculation as to how quickly they could reach the safety of the transporter should things get out of hand.

  Arthur, however, seemed to have no reservations and pushed forward waving his wings and hissing loudly with pleasure. The MacArthur and Lady Ellan raised their hands in salute as they moved away from the bank, but Archie ran crying into the waves shouting, “Goodbye, dear Arthur! Don’t forget me!”

  Perhaps Arthur didn’t hear his cry for the noise of the wind or the slap of the waves but he didn’t turn round to bid Archie farewell and it was Clara who stepped forward to hug him when he collapsed sobbing on the bank and Neil who helped mop up his tears.

  They stood silently at the edge of the loch as the two great beasts swam into deep water and disappeared from view without a backward glance. Archie continued to give great hiccupping sobs and it was Clara who voiced all their thoughts. “I hope we’ve done the right thing bringing Arthur here. I didn’t much like his Nessie!”

  Lady Ellan, too, looked dubious but before she could answer, the hooting of a car horn and the frantic baa-ing of sheep brought them sharply back to the present and put all thoughts of Nessie from their minds.

  “A car,” snapped Sir James, looking up at the road. Hurriedly they scrambled up the bank to where an irate motorist was making little headway against a flock of sheep that had hemmed him in at the side of the road. Neil and Clara ducked down and ran for the safety of the cab followed by Sir James, the MacArthur and Lady Ellan and it was only when the door of the cab slammed shut that the Ranger moved forward to calm the situation and shepherd the sheep back into the transporter.

  “Thank goodness that’s over,” Sir James confided to the Ranger as they left Loch Ness behind. “I hope I never have to live through another week like that. I couldn’t stand the strain.”

  It was mid-afternoon by the time they reached Edinburgh. The bulk of the police contingent had long since left the park but when the transporter dropped Sir James at the distillery, his foreman was full of the events of the previous night.

  “I knew the police were there,” nodded Sir James, sipping a welcome cup of coffee. “They actually stopped the transporter last night as we left the park and made the Ranger open up the back.”

  “Did they no’ see the dragon, then?” gasped Jamie.

  Sir James grinned. “It was a bad moment,” he admitted. “At the time I really thought we were all for the chop but I think the MacArthur must have cast a spell or something, because all the policemen saw in the back of the transporter were sheep. No Arthur, nothing; just a load of sheep.”

  “And what happened when you reached Loch Ness? Did you get rid of Arthur as planned?” queried Jamie.

  “We did indeed! You know, Jamie, I can hardly believe that it all went so well. There were a thousand things that could have gone wrong but in the end it went without a hitch. The MacArthur was as good as his word. His daughter was there, you know, Lady Ellan! Now, she’s my idea of a faery; such a beautiful girl. She had Nessie waiting for us, as arranged! And, do you know, we actually saw Nessie up close! A fearsome beast; not at all like Arthur. Anyway, they’re together now and with any luck all our troubles are over!”

  Sir James looked so cheerful that Jamie hardly knew how to break the bad news. “Er … not quite, Sir James, not quite.”

  “What on earth do you mean?” Sir James looked startled. “We haven’t lost any more whisky, have we?”

  “Och, no! That’s all taken care of! No, I’m talking about Dougal MacLeod! He got out of the hill while you were away.”

  “Dougal MacLeod!” echoed Sir James. “Do you know, I’d forgotten all about him! Thank heavens we managed to retrieve all that whisky, that’s all I can say!” He looked sharply at Jamie. “You don’t think that he’ll be able to pin anything on us, do you?”

  “It’s nothing to do with the distillery, Sir James,” reassured Jamie. “It’s just that I had Hamish and Jaikie here this morning.” He paused, shaking his head. “Gave me the fright of my life, it did, when two pigeons started talking to me in the yard! Frantic with worry they were! Seems that some treasure was stolen from the hill last night; those firestones that the MacArthur told us about. Hamish was going on about them something dreadful! He says it’s all his fault!”

  “The firestones? But who would take them from the hill?”

  Jamie shrugged. “They didn’t say, but MacLeod seems the obvious candidate. Anyway, they want you to help them and,” he looked at his watch, “they’ll be here soon to take you into the hill. There are still some police patrolling the slopes and they don’t want you to be seen.”

  Sir James put his coffee cup down on the table, looking appalled.

  “You must be joking!” he exclaimed in horror. “My part in all this has finished! I’ve got my whisky back and they’ve got rid of their dragon! End of story!”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Jamie said worriedly, “but that’s what they said!”

  15. Summer in Jarishan

  Lord Rothlan woke that morning to thunderous knocking on his bedroom door. He sat up abruptly in his massive four-poster bed, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and wondered what on earth was going on. Muttering under his breath, he wrapped a thick woollen plaid round his shoulders before pulling back one of the heavy draperies that surrounded his bed.

  The great, carved door to his room burst open as half of his household crowded into the room and watched as he stepped forward in sudden wonder from his bed. The room was transformed. Sunlight streamed in through the three tall windows that faced the east; it glowed in shining, golden bars on the ruby-red Persian carpets that scattered the floor and picked out the delicate gold and rose tones of the tapestries lining the walls. With a cry of delight, he ran to stand in its warmth, throwing his hands into the air in joy as his servants tumbled round him, laughing and clapping. Gather
ing the trailing plaid around him, he walked to one of the windows and looked out over the loch. The foul mist had disappeared and below him the waters of Loch Jarishan sparkled in the sunlight while, cavorting gaily in the air, his eagles soared high over the mountains in a sky of cloudless blue.

  “The crystal!” he suddenly said aloud, as he realized the enormity of what must have happened for the magic shield to be lifted from his lands. “I must see the crystal!”

  The castle was seized by madness as everyone rushed outside and luxuriated in the heavenly warmth of the sun. Summer had returned to Jarishan!

  Trembling with excitement, Lord Rothlan held the crystal in both hands and again felt power surge through him as he watched the shadows take shape. The globe was glowing brightly and he caught his breath as many pictures started to unfold in its depths. He saw the MacArthur with his daughter beside him and his eyes dwelt for some time on Lady Ellan before the mists swirled and, to his relief, Amgarad appeared looking, it must be admitted, very much the worse for wear. His feathers seemed decidedly more ragged than usual and an ugly red swelling disfigured one side of his face. Perched unhappily on a spur of rock, his misery smote his master like a sword.

  Rothlan concentrated his mind and spoke the words of an old spell, watching with dark, eager eyes to see if the enchantment still worked. Triumph surged through him as a faint beam of light lit Amgarad. He saw the bird’s head lift suddenly and his eyes become alert and watchful. Contact had been made!

  “Amgarad,” said Lord Rothlan, staring feverishly into the glass. “Can you hear me?”

  “I can hear you, Master!” replied Amgarad, flapping his wings.

  “Tell me, Amgarad! Tell me quickly! What has happened?”

  Amgarad poured out the story of his journey, the dragon and his adventures in the hill but started to stumble as he had to admit that in trying to steal the firestones, he had been worsted.

  “Master, I was so close to them! I saw him hold them up! There was a belt, a necklace and a ring, all studded with firestones! Fabulous pieces! He wrapped them in a cloth and was about to take them away when I swooped on him out of the dark. But he must have heard the noise of my wings for he threw a heavy magic instrument at me. It knocked me out of the air and left me stunned and when I woke he had gone and the firestones with him. An army of humans is looking for him now on the slopes of the hill and the MacArthurs, too, are searching everywhere. They’ll not find him, though, for the thief escaped.”

  “Did you follow him, Amgarad? Do you know where he went?”

  “I followed him, Master. I know where he lives.”

  “You have done well, my brave eagle! Your words explain many things! I believe the MacArthur has lost much of his power now that the firestones have left the hill. There can be no other reason for what has happened here!”

  “Something has happened at Jarishan, Master?”

  “A most wonderful thing, Amgarad! This morning when we woke, the sun was shining on Jarishan! It is summer! The lake is clear and your eagles are flying in the sunlight!”

  “Master! I can hardly believe it! It must mean that it was the firestones that …”

  “… kept us captive,” finished Lord Rothlan nodding. “I can think of no other explanation. It was only when they were taken out of the hill that the ring of magic round Jarishan was broken. The Lords of the North must have given them to the MacArthurs for safe-keeping. Interesting, isn’t it, that they wouldn’t trust Prince Kalman with such power, and the firestones must have enormous power if they held the ring of magic round Jarishan! Amgarad, we must get them back from this thief before the MacArthur finds out where they are! They must never return to the hill! Now that the sun has returned to our lands I’m determined that it’ll stay. Listen carefully! If the ring of magic that surrounds us really has disappeared then we will join you on the hill as soon as we can. I have many old scores to settle with the MacArthur and,” he smiled unpleasantly, “I shall show him no mercy! We shall be with you soon, Amgarad!”

  Lord Rothlan released the crystal ball from the grip of his fingers and watched as it misted over. “Call my captains,” he told his valet as he stalked to the stairs. “We have much to discuss!”

  That evening as Lord Rothlan and his captains surveyed their army as it marched, in kilted splendour, across the glen, Prince Kalman also watched with an anxious frown, from the shelter of a stand of trees on the hillside. He, too, had been amazed when the sun had suddenly bathed Jarishan in light and warmth that morning and now, with the snow melting all around him and flowers springing from the wet earth, he felt a surge of unease in the knowledge that the magic shield round Jarishan must have disappeared completely. And now this! An army marching for the border! But who on earth was Rothlan going to fight?

  “Where can Rothlan be going with an army like that?” he pondered aloud.

  Kitor clicked his beak non-committally. “Does it matter, Master? With Rothlan gone, the loch will be open to us, for only servants and the women and children are left. The water goblins are doing their best, but it’s a huge loch. They need more time!”

  Kalman pressed his lips together in a thin line. “The crown is here!” he muttered. “I know it’s here. I can feel its presence. That mad, old woman told me the truth!”

  “She was too afraid not to, Master,” the crow said dryly.

  “She said it landed here and that my father’s last spell bound it to the Meridens for ever. But why isn’t it revealing itself to me? Why?” Frustration laced the prince’s voice as he watched the last remnants of Rothlan’s army disappear into the hills. “Come Kitor; we’ll leave Rothlan to his battles,” he snapped. “Summon the water goblins to the boathouse! They must be told to work harder. We mightn’t have much more time left here and the crown must be found!”

  As Rothlan’s men marched over the sheep paths that led to the border, their spirits ran high. Rothlan, however, was more than a little worried. Spells were tricky things but he could think of no other way to move his army across Scotland unseen.

  Topping a hill, they looked down on the waters of the broad river that rushed and tumbled swiftly among the rocks of a deep gorge. This was the boundary of Rothlan’s domain and was regarded with both hope and some trepidation for they all knew that if they could cross the river, the spell that hemmed Jarishan in from the outside world would indeed have been lifted.

  Rothlan’s horse shifted beneath him as it eyed the steep slope to the water but he gave it no time to think. Urging his mount down the brae towards the river he splashed across to the far bank. His men crossed after him and let out a ringing cheer as they reached the other side. They were across, the spell that had held them within Jarishan had been broken and they were free.

  Rothlan dismounted and, making his way to a grassy knoll, surveyed the sea of faces that surrounded him. “I must now ask you to put your trust in me! I have a spell to cast that will take you to Edinburgh. As I make it, I want you to think yourself inside the hill in Edinburgh called Arthur’s Seat. You all know it of old!”

  There were nods and murmurs from his soldiers. It was many years since they had been in Edinburgh but no one could forget the great hill shaped like a sleeping dragon that dominated the city.

  “Think of its tunnels as you hear the words of the spell and it will transfer you there in seconds! Trust me!”

  Rothlan shut his eyes and chanted the words of the spell and in an instant he, and his men, disappeared.

  16. Emergency Flight

  At around the same time as Lord Rothlan and his army opened their eyes to find themselves inside Arthur’s Seat, three pigeons landed neatly in the courtyard of Sir James’s distillery where Jamie Todd had been waiting for them patiently.

  “Sir James will be pleased to see you,” he said kindly as he bent down, arm outstretched, so that they could perch on his sleeve.

  Fervently hoping that no one would notice, he carried them carefully up the stairs to Sir James’s office and looked round
helplessly for somewhere to put them. The pigeons solved the problem for him by fluttering to an upright chair and perching on its back.

  Sir James stood up, eyeing them warily and almost jumped out of his skin as Archie materialized from the back of one of the pigeons.

  “Archie! I … er … how are you? I … I’m sorry … it’s just that I still can’t get used to the way you change around so much.”

  “That’s all right, Sir James. It’s easily done and you’ll soon get used to it. Hamish and Jaikie here,” he indicated the other two pigeons, “have come to take you into the hill.” He moved over to one of the pigeons who obligingly stuck a foot out. Tied to its leg, Sir James noticed, was a little bag.

  “Is that a message for me?” he asked interestedly.

  “No, it isn’t a message,” said Archie. “It’s a jewel. A firestone!”

  “Ah, yes! I remember,” nodded Sir James. “When Arthur cried, his tears solidified.” He looked at it closely as Archie emptied it out of the little bag and into the palm of his hand.

  “It’s … different, isn’t it? It seems to contain moving fire.” He touched it with his finger. “How wonderful! Quite unlike any jewel I’ve ever seen.”

  Sir James was unsure as to whether or not the firestone was intended as a gift and hesitated to ask. He was glad, however, that he’d said nothing when Archie remarked, “It’s not only beautiful, Sir James, it’s a magic stone, and I brought it because without it you won’t be able to merge with this pigeon.”

  Sir James almost fell over. “Merge with what?” he asked faintly.

  “Merge. With this pigeon.”

  “Me! Merge with … with that pigeon! What are you talking about?”

  “Well, you see, the park’s full of policemen looking for Arthur. They know something’s going on but they’re not quite sure what and they’re keeping watch. So Hamish and Jaikie have come to take you in with them.”

  “Quite frankly,” said Sir James, looking in horror at the pigeons, “I don’t think I want to try this merging business. How on earth am I going to get my bulk into that pigeon?”