Dragonfire

by Anne Forbes

  “Do something!” he snarled at the engineer who was frantically pressing the remote control buttons. Even as he said it, however, Sir James knew that it wouldn’t work. The MacArthurs would have seen to that. Helplessly he waited to see what else would happen. The audience, thinking it all part of the act, cheered the thundering horsemen wildly and certainly, as a diversion, the Spahis proved their worth!

  Sir James, meanwhile, was scanning the esplanade whilst keeping up a fairly casual commentary designed to convey the impression that nothing untoward was happening. What he saw filled him with foreboding for, in front of his fellow officers, Dougal MacLeod was being mugged by a couple of Touareg and a woman who looked suspiciously like Lady Ellan! And his men were doing nothing about it!

  “MacArthurs!” thought Sir James. “They must have merged with them!”

  As Dougal was thrown to the ground and roughly manhandled, Sir James caught the glint of gold as Lady Ellan slipped the necklace over her head and the ring on her finger. He sighed with relief! Now that she had all the firestones, surely things would return to normal.

  Given the situation, this was something of a forlorn hope, for no sooner had Lady Ellan put on the jewels than Lord Rothlan materialized in all his finery and moved towards her. As several of the Touareg rushed to protect her, he raised his arms into the air and at his signal, the sky suddenly darkened, despite the glare of the lights. An eerie silence descended and a wave of unease swept the audience as, out of the darkness, loomed the enormous, dreadful shapes of the eagles. Headed by Amgarad, they swept down, wings drawn back and talons outstretched, to attack the Touareg guarding Lady Ellan.

  Lord Rothlan, however, had been at a disadvantage from the start. Unaware of the sequence of events in the Tattoo, he had been reduced to playing the situation by ear and it was not, perhaps, surprising that he had severely miscalculated the timing of his move. Ellan, now wearing the necklace, belt and ring, was all-powerful. Seeing what was happening, she raised her arms towards the swooping eagles and, in an instant, changed them into white doves.

  Amgarad couldn’t believe it! He almost swallowed his tonsils in rage as he shrank from the size of a massive bird of prey to a small ball of pretty, white feathers. Incoherent with rage, he hissed and spat in an agony of fury and frustration at being so cleverly thwarted. The audience, however, reassured by the appearance of doves, forgot their feeling of unease and cheered again, impressed by such fantastic special effects.

  Neil, who had almost had a heart attack at Rothlan’s sudden appearance, decided that another diversion was most certainly called for and promptly jabbed the stop button with his beak. Had he pressed medium, or even slow, the result might well have been different but stopping the walkways altogether had a dramatic effect that quite successfully diverted the audience’s attention back to the galloping horsemen. For the abrupt halt of the walkways sent the entire contingent of Spahis shooting off the end of the belts like bullets out of a gun!

  Lord Rothlan, though stunned by the transformation of his mighty eagles, was nevertheless a man of resource. When the spotlights veered towards the horsemen, he found himself in comparative darkness and, as the doves fluttered helplessly round his head, it did not take him long to realize just how neatly he had been outwitted. With his face set in lines of fury, he stepped forward and grasped Ellan by the wrists. Sir James saw his lips move as he uttered what must have been a spell. Instantly there was a sharp crack of sound as both they and the doves disappeared, leaving the remaining Touareg milling around indecisively in the middle of the esplanade.

  The spotlights, however, were still concentrated on the Spahis as they rocketed off the walkways. It was their superb horsemanship that saved them and it says much for their skill that not one of the horses lost its footing as it was catapulted forward. Once on firm ground, they miraculously recovered their balance and their riders galloped them, sweating but triumphant, around the esplanade to much cheering and applause.

  And surely no applause, thought Sir James sourly, had ever been more merited!

  The Spahis then reined in their galloping horses and swerved to attack the Touareg who, by this time, were so confused that they forgot to fight back and were ignominiously routed. This ended the French contribution to the Tattoo and left Sir James doing his best to convince the audience that all had gone to plan and shouldn’t they give the French a rousing cheer!

  After a few more items, the Tattoo drew to a close and as the last pipe band left the esplanade at the end of the performance, Sir James gave a huge sigh of relief. His part in the proceedings was thankfully over, as the firework display had nothing to do with him. He sat back exhaustedly in his chair trying to control his racing thoughts. All in all, he reckoned they’d come out of the French fiasco relatively well, with few in the audience realizing that there was anything amiss. A lot can be forgiven in a dress rehearsal and they had been a supportive audience. Such lassitude, however, would most certainly not apply to either the French officials or the organizers of the Tattoo, who would shortly be asking some very pertinent questions. Not that that worried him, as the question that dominated his thoughts was the present whereabouts of Lady Ellan!

  “I must get in touch with Neil,” he thought, and then remembered that Neil ought to be watching the fireworks with Clara. The display had just started with the first starry outbursts streaking the sky with fire.

  “Maybe they’ll have left for the school now that Lady Ellan’s vanished,” he thought as he tapped Neil’s number into his mobile, hoping desperately that he would answer.

  Neil answered at the first ring. He had just demerged from his pigeon and had been about to call Sir James.

  “Neil! Where are you?”

  “Sir James!” The relief in Neil’s voice was apparent. “I’m glad you called! Did you see what happened to Lady Ellan?”

  “I did,” answered Sir James, keeping his side of the conversation brief as the commentary box hosted cameramen and technicians that might prick their ears up if the conversation became too interesting.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but we don’t feel like watching the fireworks. Getting Lady Ellan back is much more important! What do you think we should do?”

  “I can’t talk now, Neil, but I think we ought to meet up with her father.”

  “At the school?”

  “Yes, I’ll meet you there. It won’t take me long to clear up here. I … Oh no!”

  From his vantage point in the commentary box, Sir James’s field of vision extended beyond the immediate environs of the castle. There was a long silence as he stared in disbelief at the sight that met his eyes. Whatever else he had thought might happen, it certainly hadn’t been this!

  “Sir James! Sir James! What is it?” Neil’s voice was shrill. “What’s happened?”

  “I can’t believe it!” Sir James was so shocked that he almost gabbled the words. “It’s impossible! You’ll see him in a minute, Neil! Look beyond the castle …”

  “See who?”

  “Arthur!” whispered Sir James in an agony of apprehension. “Arthur’s come back! He’s seen the fireworks and he’s heading this way!”

  23. Kidnapped

  Rothlan was still grasping her firmly by the wrists when Lady Ellan opened her eyes. She met his gaze squarely and then looked in wonder at her surroundings; she was no longer in the open air and all traces of the castle and Tattoo had vanished. Around her instead, loomed the vast hall of a castle. It was a pleasant room despite its size. A log fire burned in a huge fireplace and shields and armour decorated the staircase. It was the dark blue and green weave of the curtains, however, that gave Lady Ellan the clue to her whereabouts. Her eyes flew to Rothlan’s face, for she knew his tartan. He had brought her to Jarishan!

  Even as her lips formed the word, Lord Rothlan released her. His lips twisted in a sneer. “Welcome to Jarishan!” he said abruptly.

  Servants clad in his livery entered the hall and stopped dead as they recognized him. From
the outside came the rush of heavy footsteps as his captains entered in search of their master.

  Their leader, a hefty, grizzled Scotsman, saluted smartly. “Thank goodness you’re safe, Master! We didn’t know if it was your spell or that of the MacArthurs that took us from the hill so suddenly!”

  “The eagles, Hector?” Rothlan demanded. “Amgarad! Have they returned?”

  Lady Ellan noticed the anxiety in his voice as he asked the question and the relief that crossed his face as the man nodded.

  “They have, milord! They’re circling outside.”

  “Good! Let Amgarad enter and Hector, would you ask your wife to come to the castle with some of the ladies. We have,” he paused, turning to Ellan, “a visitor. Lady Ellan, may I present the Captain of my Guard, Hector Mackenzie.”

  Hector bowed, but not before she’d caught the expression of amazement that crossed his face.

  “Lady Ellan is our prisoner, Hector. She will reside in the west tower. I would be obliged if you would ask your wife to attend her, and perhaps some of the other ladies would make sure that her quarters are suitable.”

  “Welcome to Jarishan, Lady Ellan,” the captain bowed again. “I knew your father well in days gone by and it’s a sad thing for me to see his daughter in such circumstances.”

  Ellan searched her memory. “I do remember him talking of a Hector Mackenzie and an incident involving,” she almost smiled, “… a stag, was it not? From Lochiel’s estate?”

  A broad grin split Hector’s face from ear to ear as he recalled the incident and then disappeared as he straightened his face in an attempt to look suitably sober under the sour gaze of his master.

  “Aye! Weel!” he muttered. “Fancy the MacArthur remembering that! Er … honoured to meet you, your ladyship.” He turned to Lord Rothlan. “Fine, Master, I’ll be telling my wife to come up to the castle right away and I’ll pass the message on to Amgarad. Now, if you’ll excuse me! Milord. Lady Ellan!” He bowed to her and his master and left by the great front door.

  In the sunlit forecourt of the castle, they could hear him calling Amgarad and in a few seconds the door darkened as the huge bird swept inside and landed on Rothlan’s shoulder. However, when he saw Lady Ellan standing in front of him he struggled to keep his balance, his eyes flashed fire and his feathers stood on end. Bristling with rage he hissed at her furiously and his master winced as the razor-sharp talons penetrated his jacket. Ellan stood her ground but the bird was such an awful creature that she whitened perceptibly. Even as she stared at him in horror, Amgarad lowered his gaze and turned to his master, whose arm reached up protectively to shield him.

  Rothlan indicated the chairs that stood on either side of the massive fireplace that dominated the hall and waited until she had made herself comfortable before sitting down himself. Amgarad settled on the arm of Rothlan’s chair, rigid with disapproval at Lady Ellan’s presence.

  “Meet Amgarad, Lady Ellan. Captain of my eagles. I still call them ‘my eagles’ although they do not resemble them any more. The fault of Prince Kalman and your father!”

  “Prince Kalman, maybe, but certainly not my father,” Ellan said sharply. “He told me himself that he disapproved of what happened to your eagles and he remembers Amgarad well!”

  Rothlan looked at her from under lowered brows. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

  “I am not accustomed to telling lies!” Ellan responded proudly. “I give you my word. He was overruled by the others when the Lords of the North made their decision.”

  “By Prince Kalman!” Rothlan almost spat out the words. “Has he taken power yet, by the way? That was what he was angling for before I was exiled.”

  Lady Ellan shook her head. “No, the old men still rule,” she said guardedly.

  “You surprise me! I thought he would have been made Master by this time.”

  “From what I hear, I think he’s more or less sidelined the Lords of the North …”

  Rothlan snorted. “Kalman always played his own game and even I underestimated his ruthlessness.”

  “But you betrayed the Stuart cause!”

  He looked at her thoughtfully and seemed to come to a decision. “That was what Kalman wanted everyone to believe, Lady Ellan. The truth of the matter is that he saw me as a rival. That’s why he put the story round that I hated Charles Edward Stuart. All lies to discredit me. I didn’t betray the Jacobites — he planted the evidence against me and believe me, it was damning! I can’t blame the Lords of the North for not believing my story but I think they might have taken my word before that of a Meriden!”

  Ellan heard the ring of truth in his voice and met his brown eyes steadily. “You mean … you supported Bonnie Prince Charlie?”

  “Of course I did. He was a Stuart!”

  She shook her head in horror. “Then Prince Kalman is more evil than I thought! To have you exiled! It’s absolutely monstrous!”

  Rothlan shrugged. “He wanted me out of the way and he succeeded! May I know what else he’s been up to?”

  “He travels round the country quite a lot and his spies, the crows, are everywhere. He’s powerful in his own right and people are afraid of him! When I was staying with my mother’s family at Machray, I heard rumours …”

  “Go on!”

  “Old Agnes — you must remember her? The carpet mender! She disappeared for months and then turned up looking like a scarecrow, saying that she’d been to Ardray.”

  “Ardray? Kalman’s estate?” He pondered the thought. “Well, maybe he had magic carpets to mend.”

  “Strange, all the same, that he would keep her there for months on end.”

  “I can’t even begin to guess what Kalman’s up to but I know he needs watching, just like his father before him. He’d stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

  Lady Ellan gave a wry smile. “And you?” she asked. “Haven’t you just kidnapped me to get what you want?”

  Rothlan walked over to her and, taking her hand so that the firestone ring gleamed piercingly between them, looked at her steadily. “You are wearing the firestones,” he said. “Their magic has imprisoned me and mine for many a long year but now, as you see, it is summer at Jarishan. I told you in Edinburgh, Lady Ellan. The firestones should be mine. I need them to protect my land and my people.”

  “Why don’t you take them from me? You could. Your magic is powerful!”

  He looked at her. “Magic is not always straightforward, milady. You must know that. It would be useless for me to take them from you by force. You must give them to me of your own free will for the power of the stones to benefit Jarishan.”

  Ellan looked appalled. “I can’t give them to you. How can I? Their magic also protects us in the hill. Without them we would lose our power.” She withdrew her hand from his grasp and returned to her chair.

  “If you will not give them to me,” Rothlan shrugged and moved towards the fireplace, “then I must keep you here at Jarishan.” He rested one hand on the mantelpiece and looked at her broodingly. “One way or another, the stones must remain here!”

  “My father will come for me!” she flashed at him angrily.

  “He may well come for you; but what will he do? While you are at Jarishan, the stones will protect us. You will not be able to use them against me, nor,” he smiled sourly, “turn my poor Amgarad into a dove again!”

  At this remark, Amgarad made an indescribable noise, hunched his shoulders angrily and dug his talons deeper into the chair.

  “Aren’t you afraid that I might try to escape?”

  “I must, of course, have your word of honour that you won’t leave the island.”

  There was silence between them. Then Ellan nodded. “Very well, Lord Rothlan. I give you my word of honour that I won’t leave the island.”

  “In that case, Lady Ellan, you are free to go where you please.”

  24. Dragonfire

  The sudden bursts of blazing stars that lit the night sky drew Arthur like a magnet towards the ca
stle. Fire after all, was his element and he proceeded to revel in it. His sinuous body swooped out of the darkness and soared over the battlements as he chased and swallowed stars to his heart’s content. Although the bangs had startled him at first, it hadn’t taken him long to realize that they were merely the precursor to another feast of fire. He had never, in his whole life, enjoyed himself so much.

  Clara sat watching, open-mouthed. In truth, she could not describe how she felt. Shock, horror and wonder were all there but paramount was a feeling of thankfulness and relief. She had not been at all happy at leaving him to the not-so-tender mercies of Nessie and could only feel glad that he was back among them once more.

  “Are you still there, Sir James?” Neil was aghast as he watched Arthur’s antics.

  “Yes, I’m just wondering if we’ll be able to cover all this up!”

  “We mightn’t have to,” whispered Neil, looking at the people around him who were staring in fascination at the sky. “The audience doesn’t seem to believe that he’s a real dragon at all. They think he’s part of the show!”

  Arthur had a wonderful time as he wheeled and cavorted round the sky, gobbling up rockets and exploding sparks until even he decided that he’d had enough. All of a sudden, he felt the most enormous burp growing inside him and his whole body wriggled convulsively as he spewed the most glorious display of fireworks into the air. For a moment he couldn’t believe that he’d actually produced the wonderful starry fire that wreathed him in light.

  Tentatively, he tried again and blew another burst of glorious fire that sparkled and whizzed round him like Catherine Wheels gone wild! It was then that Arthur realized that he had, at last, grown up and could breathe fire like all the other dragons he had ever heard of. So exciting was this thought that more than anything he wanted to tell his dear friend, Archie. So, with a flick of his tail he left the brightly-lit castle, disappeared into the darkness and flew like an arrow towards Arthur’s Seat and home.