The food was served. To Zastra’s delight, Anara allowed her and Bedrun to sit together at the grand marl’s table. All around the great hall spirits were high. Thorlberd had arranged for some special wine from his own cellars to be distributed and it was proving extremely popular. He even let Zastra and Bedrun try some of the deep red liquid, which they felt to be great honour, although both agreed it tasted horrid. Rastran smirked at them, trying to look superior as he downed a whole glass, his attempt at sophistication somewhat spoilt by the purple wine moustache above his mouth.
‘Some decent wine at last,’ he said with a burp. He attempted to refill his glass, but only a few drops dripped out of the upturned bottle, despite vigorous shaking. ‘How strange. It appears to be all gone.’
‘I think you’ve had quite enough, Rastran, dear,’ said Anara gently.
‘Yes, indeed,’ agreed Thorlberd, frowning at his son.
‘I can hold my drunk, um drink,’ Rastran protested. ‘And what’s more, Auntie...’
‘That’s enough, Rastran,’ snapped his father. ‘Unless you want me to send you to bed.’
Zastra couldn’t help grinning at the look on Rastran’s face at the idea of being banished from his own party.
‘Are you enjoying yourselves, young ladies?’ asked Thorlberd, turning his attention to Bedrun and Zastra.
‘Mm-mmm,’ said Bedrun, her mouth full of fish pie. ‘The food is yummy, and the orator was wunnerful, ‘specially the story about Zastra’nd the caralyx.’
‘Yes,’ said Thorlberd, banging the table with the flat of his hand. ‘That was well done indeed, Zastra.’
‘Humph,’ grunted Rastran. ‘I suspect the poet had been at the wine early to concoct such rubbish. Father, why don’t you tell us about the real Warriors of Golmeira? Like Colinar the Courageous and the beast of the Helgarths? He wouldn’t even have blinked at a little caralyx.’
‘Oh, please do, Uncle,’ implored Zastra. She always liked to hear stories of the warriors. Bedrun added her pleas. Thorlberd cleared his throat theatrically.
‘The beast of the Helgarths was a creature so grotesque that they say even the clouds turned away in revulsion. A giant monster, with jaws strong enough to crack a man’s spine, borne on two legs like a man, but with a back so hunched that its front paws scraped the ground. One brutal winter, it descended from the highest peaks of the Helgarth Mountains to attack the villages, taking the young and vulnerable and leaving death and sorrow in its wake. Those that saw it swore they had never seen such a fearful sight.’
‘Except that time your best shirt was ruined on the eve of your sixteenth birthday,’ said Leodra, clapping his brother across his broad back. ‘You scared the laundry boy so much that he ran away!’
‘You tread dangerous ground, brother, bringing up events from our childhood, for I shall be forced to retaliate.’
‘I have nothing to hide,’ said Leodra with a confident grin.
‘How about the time you forced the whole of the castle guard to search for Frosty?’
‘Who was Frosty?’ Zastra asked.
Leodra’s grin disappeared. ‘My pet mouse. I was only five and Thorlberd wasn’t even old enough to remember.’
‘Oh, but tales were told of the great mouse hunt of Golmer Castle for years.’
‘What happened?’ asked Zastra, unable to believe that her father had ever been a child, let alone one with a pet mouse.
‘Alas, Frosty was never found,’ replied Thorlberd. ‘Your father was inconsolable.’
‘Again, I’d like to remind everyone that I was only five years old,’ interjected Leodra. ‘Besides, I always suspected Mother had something to do with disappearance. She hated little Frosty from the beginning.’
‘I’m sure the Lady Migara would have done no such thing,’ said Anara.
‘You didn’t know my mother,’ said Leodra darkly.
‘Mother was not fond of pets, it’s true, but you are unfair to accuse her of such things. You always thought the worst of her.’
‘You were always the favourite son, weren’t you?’
Anara rested her hand gently on Leodra’s arm.
‘Thorlberd, dear, you were telling us about the beast of the Helgarths?’ she said, with an encouraging smile.
‘Yes indeed,’ he said, raising his glass to her. ‘Colinar, Marl of Lyria, vowed not to rest until he had rid Golmeira of the beast. Day after day, month after month, he searched the length and breadth of the frozen Helgarths. Many of his guards fell to their death, unsighted by dreadful blizzards, or else succumbed to frostbite. Yet Colinar refused to give in. Alas, the beast was as cunning as it was ferocious, and they could never catch up with it.’
‘He failed?’ said Zastra. ‘Why then is he a Warrior of Golmeira?’
‘Patience,’ said Anara.
Thorlberd continued. ‘The next winter, Colinar vowed to continue the hunt but his guards refused to follow. Only Colinar’s groom, brave Bokira, agreed to accompany him. Almost mad with frustration, Colinar strode up into the mountains and called out to the beast. To his astonishment, the beast answered the challenge, charging down towards him. It towered over the man; its paws alone were as wide as this table. Without warning it reached for Colinar, bringing its paws together like this!’
Thorlberd clapped his hands together sharply, squashing a ripe pani-fruit between his large palms. Red juice spurted across the table and Bedrun almost choked on her pie.
‘All that saved Colinar was an instinct that made him see the blow before it was thrown. He ducked out of the way and thrust his sword upwards, into the belly of the monster. As his blow struck home, Colinar felt a sharp pain in the pit of his own stomach, yet he himself was not injured. He had no time to wonder at this before he had another vision of a huge paw reaching for him. The image was instantly followed by the action, but Colinar, forewarned, was able to escape the grasping claws. They battled long into the night. Every time Colinar stabbed the monster, he felt its pain. In the end the beast bled to death from its wounds.’
‘How did Colinar know what the beast was going to do?’ asked Zastra.
‘He had a power that no one had known existed; he could communicate with animals. Colinar not only conquered the beast of the Helgarths, but he also discovered a new mindweaving ability.’
‘Mindweavers can talk to animals?’ Bedrun said in amazement.
‘Not all of us, and even those with the natural skill have to be trained to be really adept,’ explained Thorlberd.
‘Can you do it, Uncle?’
‘I’m afraid I have as little ability to communicate with animals as I do with your brother and sister, Zastra. And you know how unsuccessful that was.’
After the food was cleared away, an acrobatic show began. It was the same troupe that had performed months before to celebrate the arrival of Thorlberd and the grand assembly. Zastra and Bedrun were captivated, clapping and whooping in appreciation along with the rest of the audience.
At the end of the show Bedrun whispered to Zastra. ‘I’d love to meet him – the young, good-looking one. Do you think we could?’
‘Why not?’ said Zastra. ‘Let’s go and tell them how good we thought they were.’
The two girls followed the acrobats out of the hall. It was pleasant to exchange the muggy heat of the hall for the cool air of the corridor. The troupe went to the kitchens, where they were treated to a meal as a reward for their performance. The young acrobat, whose name was Jofie, was very polite, although he seemed nervous and spoke hesitantly in endearing contrast with his confident performance. He blushed as his fellow acrobats made fun of him in a friendly manner for catching the eye of the “young princesses”. Zastra asked the cooks to serve the acrobats the best food and wine, which was met with a loud cheer.
The girls made their way back towards the great hall, Bedrun blushing as Zastra teased her about Jofie. The sound of music and rhythmic clapping indicated that the dancing had started, and they quickened their pace, keen to join in. A
t the entrance to the hall their path was blocked by Rastran and Mercan, half seated, half lying on the floor.
‘Ah cousin,’ said Rastran, ‘where have you and your fat little friend been sneaking off to? It’s very rude to leave my party. Very rude.’
‘Oh, I am sorry,’ said Zastra. ‘We ran out of two-faced compliments to fill your head with, so we didn’t think we were needed.’
‘Oy!’ said Mercan, ‘Are you calling us big-headed?’
‘Not you, Mercan. I don’t think you have enough room in your head to hold even one intelligent idea.’
‘Eh?’ said Mercan, confused.
‘You chil-ren should show shome respect,’ Rastran slurred. ‘One day, I shall be a Warrior of Golmeira. Rastran the Conqueror, I shall be called.’
‘Rastran the Conked-out, you mean.’ said Zastra. ‘You can’t even stand up.’
‘Can too,’ Rastran argued, levering himself upwards. However, his thin legs seemed to lack strength and he slid back down the wall like a broken puppet.
‘Behold!’ declaimed Zastra, with an extravagant bow. ‘All hail, Rastran… the Ridiculous.’
Bedrun giggled.
‘Come on, Bedrun,’ said Zastra. ‘Let’s go and join the dancing.’
‘Make the most of it,’ Rastran said ominously. Something his tone made Zastra pause.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, you’ll find out.’ Rastran and Mercan fell about laughing. Zastra glared at them until Bedrun dragged her away to dance. They passed the rest of the evening having splendid fun, forgetting the sniggering boys and their ugly threats as they danced and sang to the music. The dancing was followed by a display of fire-fountains. Impressive plumes of sparks leapt and glittered brightly against the night sky, bringing much applause and cheering. Eventually, although long before they wanted to, Anara came to the girls and sent them off to bed. Bedrun was to stay with Zastra, since Bodel was away, tending to her sick sister in Highcastle village. As they undressed and went to bed, they both agreed that it had been a fine party, even if it had been in Rastran’s honour.
Chapter Nineteen
Zastra lay awake for some time, her head still full of the excitement of the party. She was only on the edge of sleep when something roused her. A figure loomed in the doorway of her chamber. Zastra jumped up, prepared to fend off mindweaving and all other intrusions. She was totally taken aback as a shaft of moonlight revealed the distinctive silhouette of Teona.
‘Good, Zastra, you’re awake,’ Teona said, quietly but firmly. ‘You must come now. Put on some shoes and a coat – no – just put them over your nightclothes. There’s no time.’
Zastra did as she was told unthinkingly. After all, Teona was someone you obeyed without question.
‘What about Bedrun?’ she asked, but as they looked over they saw that the other bed was empty.
‘Where is she?’
‘I don’t know child, and I’m afraid we haven’t time to find out. Come. Quickly!’
The highmaster took her by the hand and led her out of her room and along the balcony, passing above the now empty great hall on their right.
‘What’s happening?’ asked Zastra in a whisper.
‘We are betrayed. Hush now, they must not hear us.’
As they glided towards the main stairs, Zastra became aware of noises; the clash of metal on metal, screams and shouts, the sounds growing louder as they approached the courtyard. All of a sudden, a high-pitched shriek shattered the night. It was a sound like nothing Zastra had ever heard or imagined, reaching within her and wrenching at her insides. It was impossible to tell where it came from. A seething mass of dark bodies filled the balcony ahead of them, blocking their way. One of the them carried a torch and in its glow Zastra saw that he was wearing the uniform of a Bractarian soldier. Teona hesitated.
‘We must get to your father’s offices,’ she whispered urgently, as the group of Bractarian soldiers surged towards them. A noise behind them made them turn – another torch and more dark figures emerged from the royal tower and headed in their direction. They were trapped.
Zastra pulled at Teona’s arm, leading her down a thin corridor and in to the narrow passages of the outer liden. It was dark. Thin slivers of moonlight slanting through the slitted windows provided the only light. Even in the dark, Zastra knew these passages well. She tugged at Teona’s sleeve to guide her. Feeling her way against the walls, the stone cold and rough against her fingertips, she found a familiar ladder. They climbed it and hurried along a narrow passageway. They were forced to ascend another ladder to avoid a group of figures who marched beneath them, oblivious to their presence. Zastra brought them out of the liden one of the second-floor balconies, overlooking the courtyard.
Teona resumed the lead and guided Zastra towards the nearest tower. Zastra looked around wildly. The courtyard was packed with shadowy figures, fighting. Men and women in the uniform of Bractaris swarmed over Leodra’s soldiers, red shirts heavily outnumbered by black. A heavy gust of air buffeted the balcony. Looking up, Zastra gasped in horror. A huge winged beast, a dark shadow against the stars and the twin moons, glided across the sky. It dived past them, down into the courtyard and the light of torches revealed a large, sleek face, its smoothness interrupted only by two stumpy horns above glinting eyes. The creature’s mouth was wide and flat, packed with rows of jagged teeth, and its thin, sinewy body was covered in shiny brown scales and held aloft by great membranous wings. Even as Zastra watched, its mouth wrenched open to release the terrible cry that she had heard in the corridor, now much louder. It was a metallic shriek of mad fury and almost shattered her ears. There were two – no – three of the beasts, circling above the courtyard. She noticed each carried a rider on its back. As Teona pulled Zastra along, one of the creatures swooped down, shrieking with insane rage. It reached out a pair of three-fingered hands, each massive finger tipped with two claws, and picked up two guards from the turret of the northwest tower. Zastra watched in horror as the beast lifted the guards high in the air and then let them go. The soldiers fell, arms whirling frantically. Teona yanked Zastra harshly behind her to shield her from the terrible sight.
‘What’s happening?’ Zastra cried in bewilderment.
‘Thorlberd’s guards turned on our own men and women, along with numerous mindweavers they had hidden in their party. They have unleashed these unnatural creatures upon us. Come, we must find your father.’
As they stumbled down the stairs of the northwest tower, their way was blocked by two tall figures, cloaked in flowing black robes.
‘Defend your mind, Zastra,’ instructed Teona. Zastra felt a weight on her mind, heavier than any she had yet experienced. She struggled to repel what felt like cold, intruding fingers. Teona flicked her wrist and the two figures were lifted off their feet and thrown over the stone balustrade. The heaviness on Zastra’s mind was instantly lifted. She looked at Teona in awe, but the highmaster did not pause, dragging Zastra down the stairs. The base of the tower was heaving with soldiers. They dodged their way through the melee. Most of the dark figures failed to notice them and any that tried to stop them were washed away as if by an invisible wave. Glancing up at Teona, Zastra could see the immense effort behind these events. She asked no more questions, not wanting to disturb the mindweaver’s concentration. At last they reached her father’s office. There they found Leodra holding the sleeping twins in his arms, his face ashen.
‘Zastra, thank the stars you are safe.’
‘Father!’ She rushed to embrace him, but with the twins in the way, she couldn’t reach around him.
‘Did you find Martek?’ Leodra asked Teona, who shook her head grimly. ‘My lord, they attacked the guard room first. They didn’t have a chance. Many of our guards were still recovering from the drinking – they certainly set us up nicely.’
Zastra gasped in shock. She could not believe that Martek, that indestructible tower of strength, was dead.
‘Zastra,’ her father looked at her w
ith utmost solemnity, ‘there is little time. You must be strong for me. Tonight, you must become a Warrior of Golmeira.’
Zastra swallowed, her mouth as dry as ashes.
‘Take the twins. You must get out of the castle. There’s a shoulder harness for Findar.’
He placed Findar on her back, so she carried him like a rucksack.
‘You’ll have to take Kastara in your arms.’
‘But I can’t leave you. I can fight - I know how.’
‘I don’t doubt your courage, Zastra. But it is too late for fighting. We are betrayed and defeated. Retreat is the only option left. Those awful creatures are unstoppable. Oh, Thorlberd, what have you done?’ His anguish was painful to see. ‘Zastra, what I ask of you now will take great strength and courage. Your brother and sister are your responsibility now. You must save them.’
Tales of Golmeira- The Complete Box Set Page 9
