‘How will we do that?’ Engar asked, in a hurt voice.
‘We will have to encourage disobedience of his damn-fool law. But it’ll need to be carefully planned. We will need widespread support. Not that I foresee any problems, a hungry bird is a susceptible bird. And every bird in Birddom is hungry. But now you must listen to me once more, and do exactly as I say. You must curb your self-importance, and sublimate your own desire for power to the greater cause. Do you understand?’
‘Of course. I will do whatever you say.’
‘Good. Finally I seem to have got through to you. The first thing that we will need to do is to enlist support. I think, my friend, that it is high-time that your little friend Merion proved his loyalty.’
Tomar had not felt so weary since the aftermath of the Great Battle, long years ago now. It was as if he had taken a physical beating, and was bruised and bloodied by the encounter. He had been so close to losing everything. Had it not been for Calipha, bless her tail-feathers, Engar would have wrested control of the Council from him, and all that he had worked so tirelessly to achieve would have been for nothing. Tomar’s head sank wearily onto his chest at the thought, and he pecked listlessly at his feathers. Could he survive again? No, he couldn’t bear even to think about it at the moment. There would be time enough to worry. One owl’s vote had bought that precious time, and Tomar knew that he would have to use it well. But all he wanted to do right now was sleep.
‘Give yourself time. You’re not as young as you were, and that’s the truth!’ he told himself. Time was marching on, setting a pace that he found hard to match. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember being anything but old! But there had been a time...
Tomar’s huge eyes closed as sleep took hold, and he dreamed about the distant days of his youth. Cerival appeared to him. But a Cerival of agile wings and firm, young talons. Other owls were there, too, and Tomar felt the warm glow of their attention.
Cerival was speaking, welcoming his friend. ‘This is a time for which I have waited with some impatience, my friends. For I am sure everyone here will agree that Tomar is a valuable addition who will strengthen the Council of the Owls, not least with his prodigious mind. So, welcome, Tomar. Welcome, my friend. Take your rightful place among us, and may you serve Birddom faithfully and with distinction.’
And then all the members of the Council thronged around him, clapping him on the back with their wings. Tomar ruffled his primaries with pride. Then the scene changed, and he was surrounded, not by friends but by a band of savage, pecking magpies and crows. Caitlin was with him, and they were being herded inexorably towards the lair of his mortal enemy, Slyekin. Tomar was afraid, but was determined not to let his captors see such weakness. However they might abuse him he would not reveal his secret. Let them torture him. He would rather put his own talon into his eye and rip it from its socket than betray the one bird who could still redeem Birddom.
‘Kirrick. Kirrick!’ he called out in his sleep. ‘Save me. Save us all.’
Then the horizon turned red as far as the eye could see, and a call so sweet and melodious shook the very skies with its precious notes. And Kirrick was among them, glowing sun-bright, and larger, more substantial and real than any other bird had ever been. And he scattered his enemies. Smote them down to left and right. None could stand before his righteous fury. The magpies were vanquished from the skies, and dark clouds rolled back to reveal a glorious dawn.
Then Tomar woke, and knew that there was always hope.
Merion was troubled at what he was being asked to do. Although, until now, he had offered unquestioning support to Engar, he felt guilty for betraying Tomar’s trust in him. He had broken Tomar’s law. Defied the edict against taking an insect for food. And the venal pleasure had been tempered by the knowledge of his wrong-doing. But he had consoled himself with the thought that what he did – his small act of defiance and subversion – was of little consequence in the overall scheme. No one would know. Especially now that the insect population was being devastated by Man. He could keep his little pleasures to himself, and no one would be any the wiser.
But now Engar was asking for open defiance. Public support for actions against the law of the Council. Merion knew that it was hypocritical of him to differentiate. Wrong was wrong. And he was guilty. But Engar wanted him to promote the wrong-doing, to enlist his friends and neighbours in a revolt against the will of the Great Owl. Tomar would never forgive him. And his mother and sister would surely never speak to him again.
Engar interrupted his troubled thoughts. ‘Are you with me, Merion? Or has it all just been a lot of talk? Do you have the courage of your convictions? Birddom is starving! Birds sit dying while food parades before their eyes and beaks. It is time to decide. Whose side are you on? You can’t perch on the fence any longer. Are you for me or against me?’
The imposing frame of the barn owl towered over Merion, and the young robin shrank back, cowering as he replied, ‘I am for you, Engar. Whatever you ask of me.’
Merion worked tirelessly amongst the incomers. At first he met with considerable resistance to his ideas, but a few months of severe hunger had eroded their support for the laws imposed by the Council of the Owls. After all, as Merion reminded them remorselessly, they were acting against their own natures. Birds were meant to eat insects as part of their natural diet. Nobody could deny that. Gradually the consensus of opinion altered, until many birds agreed that the young robin was talking a good deal of sense.
A significant ground-swell spread the message, and soon it was the talk of Birddom. Argument raged back and forth. Support for the Council held firm, until Engar played his second card. For, once Merion had laid the groundwork, he sent forth his most vocal cohorts on the Council itself, to speak in affirmation of every bird’s right to choose for him or herself what to eat. Engar weighed in, at the appropriate moment, touring Birddom, and speaking to crowds made up of every species of small bird. He voiced his opinion, loud and long, that birds had the right to eat insects. That birds had the right to a full belly. That moralising words of ageing fools wouldn’t feed their hungry children.
It was powerful and popular stuff, and birds across the land swallowed it whole, especially when reminded of Merion’s antecedents. This was the son of Kirrick – hero of all Birddom. Merion was speaking to them, advocating a change in the law. Surely they could see that this fine young robin would do nothing to bring dishonour to his father’s memory. It was Tomar who was tarnishing everything that Kirrick had fought and died for. By perpetuating the myth that an agreement made in a time of peril still remained valid in the modern era. Birddom had moved on, and Tomar’s strictures imperilled them all. If the Great Owl had his way, the next hero of Birddom might die of hunger, and never fulfil his destiny of saving this great and beautiful land.
Engar’s speeches were compelling, and, throughout Birddom, there were sporadic instances of birds taking the law into their own wings, and breaking Tomar’s pact with the insects. But still they were isolated cases, and far too few for Engar’s liking. Much stronger, however, was the voice raised in favour of a reversal of the law by the Council itself, which would release every bird from his moral duty, and enable him or her to eat with a clear conscience. Birds everywhere clamoured for the Council of the Owls to reconvene at the earliest opportunity.
Tomar knew that the tide was turning against him, but still he delayed. He had not thought of a way to combat his adversary, and now had to admit to himself that he had been thoroughly outflanked by Engar. This surprised him, especially after the barn owl’s clumsy handling of the previous Council meeting, where Tomar had escaped, by the skin of his beak, from being ousted altogether. Something fundamental had changed, and Tomar was a very worried owl.
Kopa’s journey north had been long and arduous. On setting out, the young chaffinch had had no specific destination. His choice of direction in which to travel had been dete
rmined solely by topography. But, as he had journeyed, his subsequent choices had been made for him by what he had heard. Fear was widespread among the small bird population, and that fear was crystallised by the specific rather than the abstract. Birds didn’t fear the corvidae in general. They were afraid of the local coven, and of what direct action they might take, if once again they grew strong enough. Each bird that he spoke to was terrified of the threat to their own nest, their own young. Not a single bird had looked beyond their personal situation to see that there might be a wider threat to the very existence of Birddom itself.
Kopa could see it. As clear as daylight on the fringes of a wood. This was not merely a case of local issues with larger species. This was co-ordinated and organised. Somebody had a plan. And Kopa knew that it was vital to the future of Birddom that he should find out who was behind the corvidae’s resurgence. By the time he reached the northern-most coast he had learned much, and had risked more in gaining that knowledge. He had needed to be incredibly careful to gain access to the illicit meetings of the rooks and crows, and he had required a great deal of luck to avoid detection. More than once he thought that he had been spotted. And every time he had sat, hidden and watching, he had feared that the pounding of his tiny heart would surely have carried to the ears of every bird gathered there before him. But, to date, he had not been discovered. The corvidae may have had sharp eyes and sharp beaks, but their eyes gazed inward to dreams of power and glory, and their beaks crowed of mayhem and murder to come.
Kopa’s arrival at Cra Wyd was almost inevitable. As he had followed the trail of rumour and fear, journeying ever northward, the name came to his ears more and more frequently. Cra Wyd: the stronghold of the corvidae in the north of Birddom. Cra Wyd: the biggest rookery in the whole of the land. And expanding rapidly, if the fearful, whispered rumours were true. Filling with black birds, whose ever-increasing numbers had driven out all other bird life from the vicinity. A dark and dreadful place it had become. Stories of horror and evil deeds abounded, and the more Kopa heard the more afraid he became. But he knew that he must conquer that fear. For, surely, here was the answer. If he could be brave enough once more to put his head into the eagle’s beak, metaphorically speaking, Kopa knew, in his heart, that he would learn the truth. He would find out what, or who, was behind the terrifying rise of the corvidae.
Tomar was relieved that Calipha had agreed to come and see him in Tanglewood. He would have gone to her home, of course. But it would have been an arduous journey for one so old and frail. Tomar felt safe in his own nest-hole. Here alone could he have privacy. Everywhere else in Birddom was too public, and there seemed to be so few birds that he could trust now.
‘Thank you for coming, Calipha.’
Her words, in reply, were sharp and jarring. ‘When you are summoned by the Great Owl, it is necessary to attend.’
Tomar looked at the short-eared owl with compassion. ‘My dear friend,’ he said. ‘What you must have gone through!’
‘It has been horrible, Tomar. No one else is speaking to me. I have been completely ostracised. All of my family and friends think that I was a fool to give you my support at the Council meeting. And I’m not so sure that they aren’t right.’ Tears welled up in her beautiful dark eyes, and she wiped them away with her wing-tip.
‘Calipha. You know, in your heart, that you did the right thing. And I admire you so much. It is the hardest thing in the world to stand up against the mob. Your courage was an example to us all.’
‘I simply couldn’t bear to see you ousted so unceremoniously, after all that you have done for Birddom. You seemed so utterly alone and friendless. It was downright unfair.’
A note of defiance had crept into her voice as she spoke, and Tomar felt encouraged that she still had a spark of resolve. Her actions at the Council had bought him a little time, but he would need her support again if he were to survive.
‘I still believe that I have friends on the Council. But Engar’s will is strong, and he is very persuasive. I must admit that I was surprised at how much support he had gathered in so short a time. But even I see the attractiveness of his arguments. At times I can even believe that he is right and I am wrong. But there is something else. Something that I can’t quite put my primaries on. I simply don’t trust that owl!’
‘He will not give up,’ Calipha replied. ‘I saw the look in his eyes when he realised that his victory had been snatched away from him. It frightened me.’
‘Fear of one’s own kind is indeed troubling. We have so many enemies in the world, we do not need any more within our own family. But although I too am afraid, I need to be strong. Time is against me. I must speak to as many of the Council as will come and see an old fool at the end of his days. But I chose to speak with you first. It is vital that I have your continued support. I need you to be strong, and to stay by my side in the face of all opposition. I must shore up my position. Even if I can convince one or two more owls to join us, I will be safe. Not that I care anything for my own safety. I have lived too long anyway. But I will not let Birddom be ruled by tyranny. And that is how I see Engar. For all his talk of egalitarianism, he is a tyrant at heart, I am sure of it. And evil, too.’
Chapter Five
‘I want you to come with me.’ Traska’s voice was imperious, and the tone of his command unequivocal. It would brook no denial. ‘You have done well here. By listening to my advice, you have repaired much of the damage done at the Council meeting. Support is now firmly behind you. But it is vital that you do not overdo it. You cannot risk being seen as too hungry for power. You have spoken well, now leave it to others to consolidate your position. I need you to show your face to different, but equally crucial, supporters. Come with me to Cra Wyd.’
‘Isn’t that very risky? I can’t afford to be seen consorting with rook and crow, raven and jay. And especially not with magpies. My support would melt away like snow in springtime.’
‘Of course you can’t. I am not a fool. We will have to be very careful. You must never be seen with me. In everyone’s mind I am dead. And it is better that I remain so. You must come up with a valid reason for such a journey.’ Traska paused, and the wicked glint in his eye told Engar that the magpie had something in mind. ‘You are the Great Owl elect, is that not so?’ Traska asked the barn owl.
‘Certainly,’ was Engar’s conceited reply.
‘Well, I think that it is high time that you consulted with the great birds of the land outside of the Council. Their support will greatly strengthen your position. You must go and see Storne.’
‘The golden eagle? You must be joking! He is Tomar’s firmest ally. Even if I can get him to listen to me, he will never betray his old friend.’
‘He doesn’t need to,’ said Traska, impatiently. ‘Don’t you see? You can’t lose. The act itself shows great statesmanship. You are striving to unite the whole of Birddom. To bring harmony to the land. And it will give you the perfect reason to be in that part of the country. You will easily be able to slip away, and come to Cra Wyd. And, when you do, I will have an audience waiting for you. An audience the like of which you’ve never even dreamed.’
Portia dreamed of magpies. She was with Kirrick, and they were being pursued once more. Only this time there were dozens of the evil black and white birds, and no obvious means of escape. Moreover, Kirrick was seriously injured. Not to his leg or his wing. It was an injury that Portia could not see, but it was killing her loved one before her very eyes: an injury to his heart, to his courage. Kirrick was afraid, and his fear was shrivelling his body, hour by hour, as she watched, unable to help him. His flight became more laboured and he needed to rest every few yards. And the magpies were closing in. Soon they would be trapped.
‘Leave me,’ whispered Kirrick. ‘It’s over for me. I’m finished. Save yourself.’
‘I have no self, my love. Without you I am dead. You must try, Kirrick. We can st
ill escape, if we stay together.’
Kirrick managed a weak smile, and hauled himself to his feet once more. ‘All right, my love, I will try. For your sake, I will try.’
Portia almost wept with relief, and gathered herself, ready to take to the air once more. But a terrible, dark shadow loomed over her. Light flashed from a black beak that plunged towards her. Portia screamed.
‘Mother. Mother! Wake up. What is it?’
Portia opened her eyes to see Olivia gazing down at her, full of concern. ‘It was just a dream. And yet... it seemed so real. I could feel the pain, just as Kirrick must have done. But even worse was the feeling of helplessness, as if I could do nothing to prevent it. And it isn’t just the dream. I feel helpless all of the time now. I need to be doing something, anything, to help Tomar. He needs support, and we perch and do nothing.’
‘That’s not true, Mother. You’ve spoken out, far and wide, giving your support to Tomar.’
‘And been shouted down, too, everywhere that I went. There must be something else I can do to help. If only I wasn’t so small a bird. Tomar needs bigger and stronger friends than a pair of little robins.’
‘But he has bigger friends!’ Olivia cheeped, excitedly. ‘That’s a marvellous idea, Mother. We will go and see Storne, and ask him to come back with us to help his old friend. He will not let us down.’
‘Storne!’ gasped Portia. ‘Of course. His voice will carry the authority that mine lacks. Birds will listen to him. We must not delay. We will leave right away.’
‘Shouldn’t we tell Tomar where we are going?’
Seven for a Secret Page 4