Legend of the Three Moons

by Patricia Bernard

  `What are snake trees?' Lem asked Malcolm Leftfoot as they reached the bottom of the staircase. `And is that true what Miss Bethy Bee said about the bandits and the Huntsmen?'

  `It's all true, every word. The snake trees will crush and eat you, and the plateau be the home of the Huntsmen and bandits who will both steal the skin off your body and toss your corpse over a cliff. Only difference being, the Huntsmen will do it faster.'

  He then pointed to an overgrown path meandering through a dead rose garden. `Follow that to the moon dial. Turn east and walk through the dead rose gardens to the Royal Woods. Three to four hours walking along the Royal Wood's path will bring you to Abel Penny's bridge. Take care of him. He be a nasty piece of goods, bewitched by the High Enchanter.'

  They thanked him and as they set off across the lawn he stood, hands on hips, watching them go.

  Swift hurried up beside Lem. `Lem, do you think he was making it up about the snake trees and the bandits and Huntsmen?'

  `The snake trees, yes. The Huntsmen and bandits, maybe not.'

  It took them half an hour to walk to the moon dial and another to reach the Royal Woods. The track through was unused, overgrown and narrow. One step off it and the thorn bushes tore at their boots, capes, arms and legs, so they were forced to walk in single file. During the next four hours, as noon came and went, they didn't see a bird, person or animal which made it very difficult to capture anything to pay for their toll.

  So they were empty-handed when Lem ventured out of the trees onto a wide wagon track and there in front of him was the humped-stone toll bridge.

  Dozing in a chair in the middle of the bridge and blocking the way across, lolled an enormously fat man with large, pudgy feet resting on four pink cushions. Backing into the woods Lem told the others what he'd seen and they all discussed what they should do.

  With nothing for the toll they decided to cut through the woods, find the river and swim across it. They had just stepped off the path when they heard loud voices coming from the wagon track, so they peeked through the trees.

  Three farmers were pulling a sack-filled wagon towards the bridge. On seeing the sleeping toll master, the farmers stopped pulling and one of them crept towards the snoring man. He put just one foot onto the bridge...

  The toll master woke up in a flash.

  As did the pink cushions beneath his feet - revealing themselves to be four fat pigs.

  `Pay your toll! Or get off my bridge!'

  The farmer backed off quickly. `Aye, we will, Abel Penny! We will! One sack of potatoes for going and one for returning.'

  The toll master shook his head. `It be two sacks for going and two sacks for returning. Paid in advance because I don't trust you.'

  The farmer's face flushed angrily. `That be robbery, Abel Penny!'

  `Pay up or don't cross.'

  The farmer returned to the wagon to talk with the other farmers. Then with nods to each other the three stepped between the wagon's shafts and took a run at the bridge. `Out of our way you pig-faced thief or we'll run your thieving body down,' shouted the first farmer.

  `I don't think so,' hollered the toll master who, with each step the men took towards him, was growing taller and wider.

  `He's filling the bridge,' breathed Swift, his eyes almost popping out of his head.

  `Look at the pigs,' gasped Chad.

  The pigs had grown along with their master and were now as big as bullocks, with snouts the size of buckets and teeth as large as cobblestones. They pawed at the bridge's surface with trotters larger than horses hooves.

  `Bite them,' yelled the giant toll master. `Savage them! Hurt them!'

  The giant pigs galloped towards the farmers who scrambled to the top of their potato sacks. Unable to reach the men, the angry pigs buffeted and pushed at the wagon, trying to capsize it.

  `They're going to be hurt!' cried kind-hearted Celeste. `We should help them!'

  `Wait,' whispered Lem with his hand on her shoulder to restrain her.

  `Very well. We will pay four sacks,' shouted the terrified farmers. `Stop your beasts before they shove us into the river and you get naught.'

  With a click of his immense fingers the toll master summoned his pets to his side, and he and the pigs began to shrink until he was again just a fat-bellied, piggy-looking man.

  Four sacks later the wagon had crossed the bridge and Abel Penny was asleep again.

  `I wonder if pigs can swim,' whispered Lyla, holding a thorn-covered branch aside for the others.

  Celeste made a horrified face. `I hope not. I don't fancy being chased by a giant swimming pig.'

  `You could always dive to the bottom of the river and stay there,' said Swift.

  `And what about the rest of you?' argued Celeste.

  They pushed on through the thick undergrowth of the Royal Woods, their faces, arms and legs being cut and scratched by thorns with every step.

  Finally they reached a bend in the river that was out of sight of the bridge and the sleeping tollman.

  It was, as Swift felt he had to point out, a very wide and fast-moving river with nothing to hang onto to stop them from being swept away.

  The others agreed and, after much discussion, decided that the only way to cross was to creep back to the bridge along the riverbank and cross the river by swimming from one pylon to the next.

  `Without Abel Penny seeing us,' emphasised Celeste.

  `Food first,' Chad insisted.

  So they rested by the water, and ate Emma's fish and Bethy Bee's plums, before setting off.

  Lyla tied her rope to the others belts so that they would not be swept away then, holding the jewellery box above her head, she slid into the fast-moving water and swam with one arm to the first pylon. `Deep,' she mouthed back.

  Placing Splash on top of her head, and with Chad holding onto her shoulders, Celeste swam after her. Next went Lem and Swift paddling from pylon to pylon.

  They had all reached the central pylon when a shout of anger exploded above them.

  `I know you're there. I can smell you. And I never forget a smell. You owe me a toll and when you get out, you'll pay it or I'll set my pigs upon you!'

  They all glanced worriedly at each other.

  `No good keeping silent you thieving robbers! Juicy dinners for my pigs, that's what you'll be!'

  It was the fear in Swift's eyes that made up Lyla's mind. `We don't have anything to pay you with until we fetch it from Wartstoe Village. Then we can pay you double,' she shouted up at the toll master. `But if your pigs eat us you'll get nothing!'

  The toll master and his four pigs leant over the bridge wall searching for them, but the children kept to the shadows.

  `What will your double toll payment be?' he yelled.

  `Whatever you choose!' Lyla yelled back.

  His piggy eyes narrowed greedily. `Two casks of ale?'

  `Two casks of ale it is. But you have to let us leave the river without your pigs harming us.'

  There was a heavy silence and then the porcine-man began to laugh. He laughed so hard that the bridge shook and a shower of stones and mortar fell on top of the children's heads

  Lem pushed Lyla and Celeste ahead of him. `Swim!' he urged.

  Suddenly the toll master and his pigs spied them and the toll master's face turned puce with anger. `Just as I thought! Not a sack between you. How do you expect to trade for my ale?'

  `We are information sellers,' yelled Lem, staring hard at the pigs.

  `And what use be that?'

  `It's very useful,' answered Lem, hoping to engage the toll master in conversation so that the others could escape. `For instance I know that your oldest pig has a decaying tooth that needs pulling. Your youngest pig has had a litter of nine female piglets and you wanted males. Your biggest pig bit you yesterday and your favourite beer is Du Lac Du Mont ale.'

  The toll master's mouth dropped open in amazement. `How would you know all that?'

  `I told you! We are information sellers.'

&n
bsp; A sly look came over the toll master's piggy face. `Then answer me this and I will let you go unharmed. But if you get it wrong you must pay me four casks of ale. Agreed?'

  `Agreed.'

  `Who is the more powerful? The High Enchanter or General Tulga? Who gave me my magical talents and why? And who will punish me if I misuse them?'

  Lem glanced at the pigs then he answered. `The High Enchanter is the most powerful. He gave you and your pigs the power to grow larger in return for your spying on the Royal Palace of M'dgassy. But it is General Tulga who will punish you if you misuse your powers. Now will you let us go?'

  `I will, but if you rob me, I will find you. I never forget a smell!'

  With the bridge behind them, Snake Tree Woods ahead and only one hour before sunset, the children hurried along the track hoping to catch up to the farmers.

  `Do you want to know what else his pigs told me?' asked Lem, with a secretive grin on his face.

  The others nodded.

  `They said Abel Penny can turn himself into a pig that can gallop faster than a horse.'

  `I don't believe that,' scoffed Chad.

  `I do,' said Swift.

  Lem's grin grew wider. `They also said that when General Tulga and his Raiders ravaged M'dgassy, that General Tulga carried away a black eagle chained to his left wrist.'

  `A chained eagle,' gasped Lyla.

  `Exactly.'

  5

  Snakes & Huntsmen

  They were deep into Snake Tree woods when night fell. A whistling wind blew up making the snake-patterned trees sway, so that their sharp-tipped leaves made strange hissing sounds.

  Suddenly a tree dipped so low that its branches brushed Lem's shoulder, stinging his neck. He swung around and saw a thin sapling fall between him and Lyla.

  She jumped over it but the sapling rose up like snake, encircled her ankles and tripped her over. Celeste sliced at the tree with her sword. So this was why Bethy Bee had warned them not to travel through Snake Tree Woods at night. Celeste wished the woman had been more descriptive.

  Celeste turned this way and that, hacking with her sword, as a third, fourth and fifth tree toppled and turned all snakey and slithered towards them.

  `They're not trees at all!' gasped Lyla, as a branch snaked out, caught hold of her hair and lifted her off her feet. `They are snakes. Talk to them, Lem! Tell them we aren't their enemies.'

  Lem cut the snaking branch in half and Lyla dropped to the ground. `I've tried. But they aren't real snakes!' he yelled.

  `They aren't trees either,' Chad shouted, chopping at a snake that was winding itself around his legs. `So we can't talk to them either!'

  Whack! Celeste's sword sliced at a branch twice the width of her arm. It turned on her in a flash and its hissing tongue struck her bag. She jumped aside, stabbed one of its glittering black eyes, and then the other as it half-blindly turned to attack Swift.

  `Run,' yelled Lyla, `The bigger ones are falling now and we can't fight them.'

  But running was impossible. They had to dodge or leap over the snakes that used their tails to trip or ensnare them, while slashing at the heads to avoid being stung or bitten. And all the while, more trees fell to the ground writhing to life as hissing, spitting snakes always slithering towards them.

  They were soon totally surrounded and escape looked impossible until the blast of a hunting horn and the distant sound of galloping hooves created a stillness around them. Then all the snakes that weren't wounded morphed back into trees, leaving the rest to writhe.

  `Hide,' yelled Lem.

  With nowhere to hide but amongst the trees they'd just been fighting, the children bobbed down behind three of the largest trunks and peered carefully out.

  Galloping towards them was a party of tall, red-haired Huntsmen, each one holding aloft a lantern that made their hair, moustaches and beards glow like flames. Each also carried a metal-tipped spear, aimed and ready to let loose.

  The lantern light revealed that many of them wore eye-patches, and all had tattooed arms and large brass discs fitted into their earlobes.

  Their chestnut horses looked equally as fierce and equally bizarre, with strings of knucklebones draped across their foreheads, rings piercing their nostrils, and their manes and tails dyed red. Neighing loudly the great animals showed no fear as they stomped on the writhing snakes.

  `There is someone hunting for us,' shouted a giant of a man with frizzy red hair and bulging muscles. `Keep your eyes open. They may be worth more than the snakes.'

  The children watched the Huntsmen kill the snakes that they had wounded, and tie the dismembered bodies across the rumps of their packhorses. Then they set to cutting more snake trees down. As their axes bit into the diamond-patterned bark the trees screamed in pain and fell to the ground where they were beheaded before they could wriggle away. When the packhorses were fully loaded, the lead Huntsman blew his horn and the rest flung their legs over their horses backs and rode off.

  The children jogged after them, at a safe distance, while behind them the snake trees that had been spared by the Huntsmen began to fall onto the track and try to wriggle after them.

  After running further than they'd ever run before, the children arrived panting and limping - especially Swift with his sore foot - at a crossing where three roads and a cliff track were marked by four signposts.

  The sign to the right said, To Mizzen Bee; the one to the left said, To Mussel Cove; the cliff track sign said, To Wartstoe Village. And the one pointing where they'd come from said, To Royal Woods. High up on the Wartstoe Village track they could see a string of lanterns bobbing along.

  `We'll let them get to the top of the cliff before we follow,' whispered Lyla.

  `What if the snakes attack?' argued Lem.

  Looking back to where Snake Tree Woods ended and seeing no snakes in sight, Lyla raised her eyebrows at her brother. `I don't think they can leave the woods.'

  By the time they reached the top of the cliff the Huntsmen's lanterns were gone and all they could see was a pitch-black plateau dotted with red campfires.

  They circled the first campfire and discovered why it was built so close to the Wartstoe Village track. The plateau was covered in prickly grass that crackled loudly underfoot, letting everyone within hearing distance know that someone was coming.

  There were also sharp stones that cut through their boots; waist-high walls of snake bones, that fell with a clatter; deep groundhog burrows and deeper cracks that could swallow even a big Huntsman who wasn't being careful.

  `Swift will feel the way with my spear,' whispered Lyla. `We'll tie him to us so if he slips we can heave him up.'

  With Lyla's spear held out in front Swift felt every step before taking it. Sometimes he teetered on the brink of a hole and had to be pulled back. Sometimes his spear felt nothing and he took another direction. It was slow going but finally they passed the Huntsmen's camp and returned to the safety of the track.

  The golden-rimmed moon had risen by the time they reached the next campfire. Lem crept towards it to ask the Huntsmen's dogs not to bark as they passed by. When he returned he told the others that it was a bandit camp and that he'd seen three men tied to stakes in the centre of a ring of tents.

  `The dogs said if we don't want to be taken prisoner and be thrown off a cliff then we have to keep going.'

  `But what if the prisoners are the potato farmers?' argued Celeste.

  Lyla agreed. `Celeste is right. If they are the farmers then we can't leave them there.'

  `And what if they're three other skin-us-alive bandits caught by these skin-us-alive bandits,' whispered Swift.

  Celeste handed her bag and Splash to him. `One way to find out. I'll creep up and if they're the farmers I'll cut them free and if they're not, I won't. Meanwhile you continue on to Wartstoe Village so that if I have to make a run for it we'll all be running in the same direction.'

  Celeste held her breath as she crept through the ring of tents to where the men were tied to three s
takes surrounded by firewood. The closest man was the farmer who'd argued with Abel Penny. She cut his and the second man's ropes without waking them. But the third, whose head was bleeding, was awake. He stared at her as if he was seeing a ghost. Putting her finger to her lips, she quickly cut his ropes and crept away.

  Expecting to hear the shouts of angry bandits or the cries of farmers being caught again, Celeste ran to catch up with the others. They met on the track and raced towards the next campfire. They circled it and three more before they reached the point where the cliff track sloped downwards. Below them were what had once been the productive wheat fields of Wartstoe Village but were now only dry stubble.

  In one field they found a burnt-out barn where they hid under a pile of mouldy hay. They were all sound asleep when a skinny rooster, not long for this world, crowed that it was morning. None of the children heard a sound.

  Chad woke first, much later. He crawled out of the hay and he found they'd all slept through most of the day. He could also see that the closest cottage in Wartstoe Village was only a shout away. He shook Celeste awake and beckoned her outside. Five minutes later a tousled-headed Lyla and a shivering Lem joined them.

  After complaining about how hungry and cold they were they talked over what they should do next. Lyla and Celeste weren't sure about their boy disguises, and the others were too young, so they decided that Lem would go to the village alone. They also agreed he should barter for food as well as information about Edith, and that he would pay for both with one of the jewels pried from the casket's lid.

  `Leave the moment you have everything but return in a roundabout way in case someone thinks we have more jewels and tries to follow you,' instructed Lyla. `Meanwhile we'll bury the casket so that it can't be stolen.'

  When Swift awoke and discovered that Lem had already set off for the village, he climbed into the barn's rafters where Chad was on watch.

  Below them, Celeste and Lyla were washing their arms and faces in a barrel of water. They were worried about Lem so they talked about how brave he was, how good he was with his sword - even though he hadn't taken it - and how his gift of speaking to animals would surely help him if he met danger.