Thorfinn and the Terrible Treasure
Page 4
A tall figure with ginger hair poking out from under his hood caught Velda’s attention. “Wait, wait…” She slapped herself on the forehead as she realised. “That’s it! Now I know how they did it. Back on the treasure island when you were guarding the chest, one of those hooded guys barged into me as I was carrying your food. He must have slipped something into your drinks!”
“I knew it,” said Olaf.
Another figure strutted down the gangplank. It was Magnus the Bone-Breaker, and he was beaming from ear to ear.
“Bone-Breaker!” breathed Olaf. “He was behind this the whole time.”
“That explains why the galley took so long to reach Dunadd,” said Thorfinn. “They must have hidden in a loch, waiting for Magnus to circle back south and catch up.”
One of the hooded men took the horses’ reins and the wagon rolled forward. More guards pushed and jostled their way through the crowds, shouting, “Move it! Clear a path in the name of the king!”
Velda punched her palm. “They’re heading to the castle! So here’s the plan…” The others crouched closer, listening. “Me and Thorfinn will follow the wagon. Harek, you and Olaf go and fetch the others. Meet us at the castle.”
Olaf and Harek darted off up a side street, while Velda and Thorfinn joined the crowd that had gathered to watch the wagon. The ship’s arrival had caused a stir of excitement in the town. The streets were bustling and people were leaning out of their windows to get a good view.
The wagon halted in the square outside the castle entrance. Velda and Thorfinn crouched behind a wall and watched.
King Appin was standing on a platform wearing a golden crown. He greeted Magnus the Bone-Breaker like an old friend.
Then the armed guards threw off their hooded cloaks to reveal themselves. They were all Scottish warriors wearing red-and-blue tartan. The tall warrior with the ginger beard hauled the black cover off and sure enough, there was the treasure chest!
Thorfinn and Velda couldn’t hear what Magnus and the king were saying, but Magnus suddenly threw his arm out in a wide gesture towards the treasure. The king replied by throwing his own arm out towards a group of fierce soldiers standing nearby, all wearing chainmail and armour and carrying battle shields.
“I wonder what they’re up to?” said Thorfinn.
“Magnus is buying gallowglasses from the king,” came Oswald’s whiny voice from behind them. He had arrived with the rest of the crew.
“What are gallowglasses?” asked Velda.
“Paid soldiers. Elite warriors from the outer islands.”
“Pah!” she said. “There aren’t many of them. What can he do with so few men?”
“They’re just the commanders,” said Oswald. “There will be more. For that amount of treasure he could buy a whole army.”
“Oh dear,” said Thorfinn. “With his own army, I fear Mr Bone-Breaker could take over all of Norway.”
Velda gasped. “He could defeat the royal army, and claim the throne of Norway.”
Magnus and the king turned and walked side by side into the castle, followed by the guards and the wagon.
“We have to stop him,” said Olaf. “But how?”
Thorfinn grinned. “Don’t worry, everyone. I have a plan.”
CHAPTER 15
A short while later, Thorfinn and his crew took deep breaths and stepped into the square in front of the castle. They were dressed up in pink sheets that had been raided from a washing line and cut roughly to look like dresses. They were adorned with ribbons and buttons, and even, in Gertrude’s case, a bell and collar she’d nicked from round a cat’s neck.
“My dear friends,” said Thorfinn, “please allow me to do the talking. And do try to be as womanly as possible. That is, if it’s not too inconvenient.”
Grut answered in a posh, high-pitched voice, “YE-AS Thorfinn!”
Olaf mumbled under his breath and shook his head. “This is not how Vikings should look.”
At the gate, they crowded round the tall ginger-bearded guard, doing a shimmying, swaying kind of dance, just like Oswald had told them to.
The guard pushed him away, sneering. “Get off! Who are you?”
“We,” said Thorfinn, “are the Fair Maids of Mull. We’re performers for the feast this evening.”
The guard eyed the knobbly knees poking out from under their dresses. “Oh, ye are, are ye? Go on then, give us a tune.”
The crew glanced at each other, then Thorfinn broke into song. He had a fine, high singing voice.
“There was a young maiden from bonnie Dundee… Tra-la-la-la—”
“OUCH!” yelled Grut, jumping into the air and interrupting the song. “Who touched my bum?” He coughed then switched to his high-pitched voice. “Who did it? Was it you?” He glowered at Torsten, who was right beside him.
Gertrude giggled, chewing. “No, it was me, there was a fly on it.”
“You dare accuse me of touching your rotten old bum?!” replied Torsten in a similar high-pitched voice. The two men started slapping each other, while the others frantically tried to stop them.
For a split second, Thorfinn’s cunning plan threatened to go disastrously wrong – until the guards burst out laughing.
“Ah, we get it! You’re obviously the comedy act.” The ginger-haired guard stood aside, chuckling to himself, and waved them on. “In you go.”
The staff were all so busy preparing for the feast that no one inside the castle paid them any attention.
Oswald dangled a small bottle from his finger. “I pickpocketed that guard. I think you’ll find it’s the same potion he used on you. Leave it with me and Gertrude,” said Oswald, turning towards the kitchens. “A few drops in the mead should do the trick.”
Giant platters of food were being carried in the direction of the great hall.
“That-a-way!” said Thorfinn, and he led the others along another passageway, past stewards, jugglers and servants. They stopped outside a set of double doors and Thorfinn peeked through the crack. “Ah-ha!” he said. “I see it!”
The treasure chest sat proudly in the centre of the hall, lying open to display the jewels within. Long tables were set up around the chest, lined with many nobles, some of whom were still nursing black eyes, thanks to Olaf. At the head table, on a raised platform, sat King Appin and Magnus the Bone-Breaker.
“What’s happening?” asked Velda.
“Good news,” said Thorfinn, spying some servants who were bringing large jugs from the kitchens. “The mead is being brought in. I hope Gertrude and Oswald managed to tip in the potion.”
Just as the servants were pouring the mead, the double doors in front of Thorfinn and his crew were flung open and they were pushed into the hall and onto the stage. A courtier announced, “Please welcome… the Fair Maids of Mull!”
Polite applause gave way to bemused silence, before Thorfinn and his crew realised that all eyes were on them and their hairy legs.
CHAPTER 16
“Oh dear,” said Thorfinn.
“What do we do now?” whispered Velda through her teeth.
Thorfinn took a deep breath, stepped forward, bowed and took the hands of Grut and Velda.
“Follow me, everyone,” he said.
The other Vikings followed his lead, clasping each other’s hands. Thorfinn began moving backwards and forwards, swinging his legs, and they copied him. This went on for a moment in deathly silence.
“Vikings do not dance,” Olaf grumbled under his breath.
Harek started humming an old Viking tune, the title of which roughly translated as: ‘Chuck the bishop in the sea and pelt him with cabbages’.
“Yo-yo, yo, yo, yo, yo-yo, yo, yo, yo!” Harek sang, nodding and straining to smile.
“Yo-yo, yo, yo, yo, yo-yo, yo, yo, yo!” they all repeated, their smiles straining even more.
King Appin rose to his feet. His face was trembling with anger and his eyes were wide with recognition. “You lot – again!”
But all of a sudden
the king’s eyes drooped. He slumped forward, landing with a huge SPLAT in a giant jelly.
Only then did Thorfinn notice that everybody else in the hall, including Magnus, was face down in their dinner too.
At that moment Oswald and Gertrude burst in. “The guards are also asleep,” Oswald announced.
“Yes, tee-hee,” giggled Gertrude. “We gave them all a leetle drinkie.”
“Well done, everyone,” said Thorfinn. “But there’s no time to lose. Magnus will wake up soon, and his boat is faster than the Green Dragon.”
Velda threw off her pink sheet and rolled up her sleeves. “Right, you pig-dogs, let’s get this treasure back to Indgar! We only have a few days, and a long voyage ahead!”
CHAPTER 17
Several days later, back in Indgar, Magnus the Bone-Breaker strutted down the main street, halting every once in a while to gawp and laugh at the terrified villagers. “Ha! Who put your face on the wrong way round? Look at these poor wretches!”
He arrived at the marketplace to find Harald the Skull-Splitter sitting hunched and forlorn over a desperately small mound of gold and jewellery. Erik the Ear-Masher was slumped on a low wall nearby, his head in his hands. Thorfinn’s mother, Freya, stood looking down her nose at them both.
“Is this all you managed to scrape together?” asked Magnus. “It’s pathetic!”
“Shut it, Bone-Breaker!” barked Harald.
“Can’t you give us some more time?” pleaded Erik. “Just a few days.”
“No chance,” barked Magnus. “Your fourteen days are up. You know what that means. Hand over the keys to your cowshed.”
Harald sighed a long deep sigh of surrender. “There is nothing else we can do.”
Magnus stood in front of them, his hands on his hips, gloating. “I might have lost the treasure, but this is worth it. At long last Indgar will be mine, and I won’t have to live next door to you fools any longer. If only that silly son of yours and his daft bird could see your faces right now – then it would be perfect.”
At that moment he was startled by a flap of wings beside his ear.
It was a pigeon.
Thorfinn’s pigeon, Percy.
And it landed on his head and craned its neck to look down at his face.
“What in the name of Odin’s trousers…?!”
Magnus turned to see the crew of the Green Dragon, led by none other than Thorfinn, pulling a wagon into the marketplace. Nobody, it seemed, had noticed their ship slipping into the fjord and mooring at the pier.
Thorfinn removed his helmet and saluted. “Good day, dear Father and Mother. How pleased I am to see you again.” His mum Freya rushed over to hug him.
“Thorfinn?!” bellowed Harald. “My boy!”
“What would you like us to do with this?” Velda asked as Torsten and Harek leaped onto the wagon, threw off the cover and prised open the lid of the treasure chest.
Gold once again glittered in Chief Harald the Skull-Splitter’s eyes, while fear shone in those of Magnus the Bone-Breaker.
“But how…?” spluttered Magnus. “They told me it had been stolen by dancing ladies! I thought those Scots had tricked me—”
“Chief Harald,” Velda cut in. “Magnus tricked us all and stole the treasure. He wanted to buy an army from King Appin of Scotland.”
“WHATT!?” roared Harald. He leapt to his feet. His eye twitched furiously at Magnus. “You filthy dog!”
Magnus’s eyes glazed over with terror. “Oh, er, right, er… Oh, dear Thor!” He turned and fled, sprinting out of the village.
The villagers, who had only a few minutes ago been miserable, gave a great cheer and chased after him, pelting him with turnips.
Harald knelt down in front of his son and placed a mighty hand on his shoulder. “Thorfinn, my dear, dear boy, you’ve saved us yet again. I’m so sorry. Why do I ever doubt you?”
“Think nothing of it, dear Father. I’m just glad to be home.” Thorfinn patted his other shoulder and Percy flapped onto it. “Come on, old bean, let’s go for a nice cup of tea and a sit down.”
With that, Thorfinn trotted off, whistling, leaving the rest of the Vikings to admire the treasure.
“Ha!” cried Erik. “Can you believe it? We’re rich again! And we get to keep Indgar!”
Velda stifled a laugh. She didn’t have the heart to tell them Thorfinn had already donated the treasure to a charity, The Mangy Elks Protection League, who were coming to pick the whole lot up that afternoon.
Copyright
Young Kelpies is an imprint of Floris Books
First published in 2016 by Floris Books
This eBook edition published in 2016
Text © 2016 David MacPhail. Illustrations © 2016 Floris Books David MacPhail and Richard Morgan have asserted their rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act 1988 to be identified as the Author and Illustrator of this work
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the prior permission of Floris Books, Edinburgh www.florisbooks.co.uk
British Library CIP data available
ISBN 9781782502364
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