by Joan Aiken
Hapiypacha was an ounce, or mountain leopard; he stood four feet high at the shoulder, was about nine feet long, including his tail, had a pale-grey coat, dotted over with large dark rosettes, and three black stripes along his back; his black ears were tasselled, he had two dark 'tear-marks', stripes down his cheeks, white whiskers, green luminous eyes, and a no-nonsense expression. Wrinkling up his black nose as he snarled again, he loped to the temple entrance, passed through, and could be seen in front of the altar, pacing up and down as if he were keeping guard over it. A strong musky smell came from him: like cheese with dried fish, Dido thought.
'Now,' said the Guardian, 'behave yourselves, keep quiet, and Hapiypacha will do you no harm. But if you make any sudden move, or shout – or break into a run – he is trained to overtake a running quarry, and he can catch anything on four legs or two. I do not advise you to try it. . . Good night.'
He left them at the entrance of their room, and returned to the temple.
There was no means of fastening their door, they discovered; if they pushed it to, it merely swung open again. In the end they managed to wedge it shut with a handful of hair from the heap – which was indubitably human. Deeply depressed by this circumstance, they spread out their cloaks on it, and combed their own hair with their fingers. 'We'll look for some ichu grass tomorrow,' said Dido. Then, silently, they lay down to sleep. They were in no mood for chat.
Their bed was soft enough, despite its frightening implications. But Dido's sleep was broken by miserable dreams. She heard Mr Multiple scream as he was thrown over the waterfall; she saw poor Plum carried off by Aurocs; fiery-eyed owls dashed at her, snakes wriggled among the heap of hair, Mr Holystone stood on the far side of a ravine, with Caliburn in his hands, but looking away from her, in the wrong direction.
Towards dawn she woke, parched with thirst, and, in some trepidation, padded next door carrying a wooden cup Caradog had left them, to fetch herself a drink of water from the stone tank. Coming back it struck her that their bedroom door had been ajar; someone must have opened it while they were asleep. And, returning to bed, she discovered who: sprawled out beside Elen, with his chin comfortably supported by her ankles, lay Hapiypacha, fast asleep.
Dido regarded him rather doubtfully for a moment. Then she knelt and set the wooden cup of water down on the ground. As she did so, for some reason, she remembered Mr Holystone saying, Never drink the first cup of liquid offered you by a stranger.
Maybe things'll somehow come right, she thought. Though dear knows how!
Then she curled up on the far side of the heap from Hapiypacha and went back to sleep.
11
When Dido next woke, it was to see Elen thoughtfully scratching the thick soft fur between Hapiypacha's ears, and pulling out the loose fluff over his eyebrows, while he purred like the distant rumble of Mount Catelonde.
'It's going to be awkward,' Dido remarked, 'not letting old Caradog find out how thick you and Happy-Pussy have got. Or he might think we'd need another keeper.'
But in fact it proved not too difficult. Most of the daytime hours were passed by the old Guardian by Sul's altar, where he blew or plucked on his various instruments. During the afternoon he went to feed his animals stabled in the valley below, and was absent for a couple of hours, departing through a postern gate in the massive wall, which he locked behind him. At noon and in the evening he fed the girls some more of his bean-and-yucca stew. If Elen chose to come and play the piano in the temple – which she did from time to time – he was happy to desist from his own performances and listen to hers, rapt in a trance of pleasure; sometimes, indeed, after these interludes, it was quite hard to rouse him. Otherwise he paid little attention to his prisoners; they might wander where they chose through the cold, sunny, deserted city, climbing stairs, coming out on to terraces, peering over terrifying drops. As Caradog had said, they were free to fly out if they chose; there appeared to be no other way out.
Everywhere they went, Hapiypacha accompanied them, loping at their heels, or sometimes bounding ahead, leaping up on some balustrade or rock platform if a merlin or rockdove chanced to alight. Caradog had warned them about Aurocs, which, once or twice, they saw planing about the sky with their hideous triangular wings outspread. 'But,' the Guardian said, 'so long as Hapiypacha's with you, no Auroc's going to come near; they won't tangle with him.'' Indeed the great leopard often snarled up, wrinkling his nose and hissing, when the shadow of an Auroc passed over.
Up at the top of the town, beyond the Temple of Sul, there was a round tower, which Dido had noticed on their first arrival. Exploring in this direction, they found that the tower was not a tower at all, but simply a huge rock, the upper part of which had been cut and shaped into a single stone shaft some twenty feet high. At the top of this the familiar face of Sul was carved. Beyond the pillar extended a balustraded terrace from which the whole of Lake Arianrod could be seen. There was now a fair amount of water in the star-shaped basin, and more of the yellow balloons kept arriving.
'They are made of wild silk,' Elen said sadly. 'Used for irrigation in the highlands. Why doesn't papa stop sending them? I don't understand it.'
Dido was visited by a depressing idea.
'Perhaps old Gomez, when he nabbled us, left a note, as it might be from you or me, saying don't worry, gone off with Mr Mully to pick up diamonds in the lake-bed. Or summat of the sort.'
'Surely Papa would not be so foolish as to believe such a story?'
But no other possible explanation occurred to them.
Most of the balloons came drifting over the shoulder of Mount Catelonde, the heat of which was sufficient to melt the wax on the fastenings and make them discharge their contents into the lake-bed. But a small number floated over the crater itself, through the reddish-black column of smoke that came coiling sluggishly from the volcano's open jaws. Then that particular load of water never reached the lake, but fell down into the heart of the volcano, like a teacupful of water dropped into a furnace. And as the furnace sizzles and spits when water is dropped into it, so Mount Catelonde rumbled and hissed and spat out jets of red-hot ash and lava each time this occurred.
'If enough water got spilt into the crater,' said Elen thoughtfully, 'I shouldn't wonder but what it might start a full-scale eruption.'
'What would happen then?'
'It would be like a saucepan boiling over. Only what comes out of a volcano is lava – boiling rock, thick as molasses, rolling down the mountain. Of course it might just roll down into Lake Arianrod; but if it went down the other side of the mountain – or if there were a big explosion and part of the mountain blew off – it might be dangerous for the city of Bath. – Oh, how I wonder if Gwydion has got there yet; if he has – if he learns what has happened to us – he will surely come to rescue us?'
'I wouldn't depend on that,' Dido said. 'Who'd tell him? If you ask me, it's no use expecting other people to help you. – What's that thing down there, d'you you suppose?'
A flight of steps led down the steep hillside from the terrace on which they stood. Below, extending outwards from the hillside, rather like a diving-board, was a narrow natural tongue or spur of rock, perhaps ten feet long and three or four feet wide. Below it, the cliff fell sheer, more than a thousand feet, to the blue waters of Lake Arianrod.
Elen looked down and shivered.
'Can't you guess? That's the Tongue of Sul – where we shall be thrown into the lake. I believe we aren't really thrown – just pushed out along the rock and left to stand there until we fall off. I should think it would not take long – you would soon become giddy on that narrow tip. Some people jump off, I've heard, so as to get it over sooner.'
Now it was Dido's turn to shiver.
'Brrr! What a spooky spot. Let's get away from here. I'm sorry I asked – I wouldn't have come this-a-way if I'd known. Maybe it's dinnertime – the sun's moved quite a bit since we've been here.'
But Elen, walking dejectedly after Dido, burst out, 'I don't know that I mi
nd being thrown into the lake. Dido! I really love Cousin Gwydion. I always have. I can feel it here -' She thumped her chest. 'If I can't marry him, I might just as well be in that lake. Or – or go back to England and teach mathematics! I'm certainly not going to stay in Lyonesse and marry one of those Ccapacs.'
'But, Elen,' said Dido, shocked, 'how can you marry him? He's married already. And anyway – you've hardly met him – how can you be sure?'
'You forget. I was partly brought up with him. I loved him then. Oh, if only he was just Cousin Gwydion.'
If only, thought Dido sadly, he was just Mr Holystone.
Trying to retrace their steps to the Temple of Sul, they became confused among a maze of narrow cobbled ways, and came out on a dry dusty shelf above a ravine which was quite narrow – only about ten feet across -but unbelievably deep.
'Watch out, Elen,' Dido said anxiously. 'Don't go too near that gritty edge.'
A mountain hare, sunning itself among a tangle of wild fig and cactus on the far side of the gully, started up and bolted away across the mountainside. To the girls' utter amazement, Hapiypacha cleared the gully in one effortless bound, and shot off in pursuit of the hare, going so fast that he seemed to float over the ground; in twenty seconds he had caught it, and returned with it in his jaws, leaping back over the gully with the same unconcerned ease, before settling down in a patch of shade to demolish his prey in four bites.
'He's got hi's own way out, at all events,' Dido said. 'Guess the Guardian don't know that – '
An idea seized her so suddenly that her jaw went stiff and she stammered in her excitement. 'Hey – p-p-p-princess! He – he likes you!'
'Who does? What do you mean?'
'Why, old Puss there –' as Hapiypacha, having finished his lunch, came to rub his head against Elen's arm. 'D'you reckon you could ride him? Get him to take you out of here?'
'You mean – over there?' Elen's eyes went huge with fright. She looked down into the terrifying gully.
'Go on! You said just now you wouldn't mind being thrown into the lake. At least there'd be some point to this!'
'But – but what about you?' Plainly, though, Elen had begun to consider the idea, instead of just dismissing it.
'Well,' Dido said reasonably, 'it'd be no use my trying to ride him. He don't like me above half. It's you he's took sich a fancy to. So it's a case of you or nothing, ennit? But he's a right fast goer, our Happy-Pussy; if you could get across that gully on him, and ride him over the mountains to Wandesborough, maybe you could give the alarm in time to send somebody and stop old Stone-Eyes from dropping me in the lake. Or – or if not – it's better one should get away than both of us get polished off. And then – and then – you can tell your cousin Gwydion about Queen Ginevra's goings-on —
She had to reiterate this argument a good many times before Elen could be brought to consider it. But presently – after they had eaten their noon meal and Caradog was away feeding his beasts – Elen did try riding the leopard. At first it was doubtful whether he would sanction the idea at all, he hissed and spat and started away when, nervously tucking up her skirts, she attempted to bestride him; but by the end of the day he was co-operating tolerably well, though he did not look pleased about it; his ears were set back flat against
his head and he mewled angrily to himself all the time she was on his back.
'Still, we're a-getting somewhere!' exulted Dido. 'Who'd a thought, this morning, that he'd let you ride him so biddably? And it's still two days to the new moon. If you practise all day tomorrow – '
'All day!' shuddered Elen. 'If you knew what it was like sitting on his back! There isn't any saddle-holllow – nothing but bony spine all the way along. It's all very well for you – '
She bit her lip and stopped suddenly.
'Don't you worry,' said Dido. 'Maybe the old boy will be so sore when he finds he's lost you and Hapiypa-cha that he'll be out a-hunting over the mountain, and I'll have a chance to get away too.'
Though what could I do? she wondered. Steal a ride
back on the silver-train? Her private thoughts were not hopeful.
By the evening of the third day Elen was getting on much better with her wayward mount. She had learned that the usual taps or kick used to urge a horse to greater speed only put him in a bad temper, but he would respond very well to coaxing words if she leaned forward and whispered in his ear.
'I reckon now's as good a time as any,' said Dido, who had discreetly removed Hapiypacha's breakfast of dried guinea-pig when the Guardian's back was turned, so as to render the leopard extra-hungry by evening. 'Let's go up to that gully-spot and hope for another hare.'
At first they were afraid they were not going to be able to find the place again, as they wandered to and fro in a network of dusty, silver-cobbled alleys, with late swallows and mountain falcons wheeling overhead in the last of the sun.
But at last they came out on the edge of the gully, and, as luck would have it, there was another hare, drowsing in exactly the same spot on the other side.
'Quick, Elen – before you've got time to get scared – hop on him!' said Dido. Impulsively she gave the other girl a hug. 'Go on, now – don't be frit! Give my best regards to Mr Holy if you find him -'
Elen scrambled herself on to Hapiypacha's bony withers. Leaning forward she took a firm grip of the thick fur on his neck with both hands, and whispered, 'Go on, now, Tomkin – after him – '
The leopard bounded, checked an instant, and then shot away, clearing the ravine with his usual carefree power, landing well over on the other side, despite the fact that he had a rider on his back.
'Grip with your knees!' shouted Dido as Hapiypacha raced after the hare. 'Good luck!'
And then she turned round to find herself staring straight into the indignant face of Caradog.
'You are a very, very wicked child!' he said wrath-fully.
'Oh, come on, mister!'
'My sister said you were a troublemaker! She was right!'
'Now listen here – '
'I let you and your companion go free, instead of locking you up, as I should otherwise have done (it is true,' he added in parenthesis, 'that Sul prefers a healthy, willing sacrifice; or so I have always thought) – and what happens? You act with outrageous deceitfulness and ingratitude – you seize the first opportunity to escape!'
'Well,' Dido said reasonably, 'What would you have done? Just sat down and waited to be chucked over the cliff?'
'If Sul wished it – yes!'
'Mister,' said Dido – by this time the old man had grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and was marching her fiercely back in the direction of the temple – a most uncomfortable progress – 'Mister,' she said, screwing her neck round to look at him, 'has it ever strook you that perhaps it was meant for Elen to escape?'
'Meant? What can you possibly mean?'
'Well, she managed it twice, didn't she? Once we and your High King just happened to be on the spot; and as for this time – well, no one but a noddy would a left the girl to be guarded by a cat, when I'd a thought the whole population around here might know she just dotes on the whole tribe o' cats and them on her -ouch!' – for the old man had now taken a firm grip on her ear.
'I wish to hear no more of your irreverent rubbish,' he snapped. 'Sul needed that girl. Nodens is angry. See how Catelonde burns and sulks -' gesturing across the valley to the volcano which had just received two water-skins in its hot gullet, and was vomiting out a fiery spray of lava.
'But don't you see, you old Fossil, that's because -oh well -'
Looking at his angry, implacable old face, Dido decided she might as well save her breath. He was not going to be convinced by her. Instead she asked, 'Who's Nodens?'
'He is the husband of Sul. He must be propitiated. Or he may wreak his vengeance on the whole city of Bath.'
'If you ask me, the whole city of Bath could just about do with a tidy-up – hey! That hurts!'
Grasping her by both ears he pushed her pa
st the altar and with a final heave propelled her sharply through the door of her bedroom so that she fell on her face on the stone floor. By the time she had picked herself up he was nailing the door shut with furious bangs of a hammer.
'And there you stay!' he shouted through the door, 'until tomorrow evening when it is time for you to go to Sul. Hodie mihi, eras tibi! Nota bene! Respice finem! Suaviter in modo! Experto crede!'
And she heard him stomping off back into the temple, where he soothed his feelings and allayed his temper by making a lot of noise on various different instruments and thumping some very cacophonous chords on the piano. Poor old boy, thought Dido, he ain't half sore that he lost Elen. I guess those old girls will be right mad with him.
And then Dido began to wonder and worry as to whether she had done the right thing in encouraging the princess to escape on Hapiypacha. Would the leopard really consent to be ridden all the way over the mountains to Wandesborough? Or would he toss Elen off into a sigse thorn thicket and then eat her? Or would she fall off his back? Or would they get lost, and fall asleep on the bare mountain slopes, and become the prey of Aurocs?
Still, thought Dido, anything's better than waiting here to be chucked off a blessed rock into a perishing lake.
She had ample time to think this. It was a miserable night. The room was extremely dark with the door shut, since there was only one window, about the size of a brick, very high up. Dido groped her way to the heap of hair and curled up miserably in it. She felt, for the first time, horribly lonely – for Elen, for Mr Multiple, for Holystone, Noah Gusset – even for Captain Hughes and Hapiypacha. Where were they all, this night? Dido was very tired indeed, but it was a long time before she slept.
She woke up hollow with hunger – for the Guardian's bean-stew was not very nourishing and it was many hours since she had eaten it – also parched with thirst. She thought longingly of the water in the tank on the other side of the nailed-up door. The sun was up – she could tell that by the light in her window-hole. Banging on the door she shouted, 'Lemme out!' For a long time there was no answer, then Caradog's voice replied, 'Quiet, child, you interrupt my devotions. And in any case you cannot come out till moonrise. You had better think, meditate, put yourself in a proper frame of mind to go to Sul.'
