‘But he did not die. A witch who lived in a castle at the top of the cliff had seen him, and she reached out with her mind and pulled him back up. The witch cared for Timeon and he became her apprentice. But he did not tell her his real name, because he knew the King would be trying to find him. Instead, he called himself Lord Jasper Randling.’
Edward put his hand to his mouth. ‘You . . . you’re Timeon. Horatio was your father.’
Randling nodded. ‘That is why I hate your father. He killed my father and brother, and caused the death of my mother. A good reason to hate, yes?’
Edward was trying to put it together. ‘Melindarah taught you. But she would never have taught you how to drain people.’
‘Correct. But she did teach me enough so that I could work it out for myself.’
Edward tried to put it together. ‘So, when you had learnt enough from her you left, planned your revenge and, when you were ready, kidnapped Bart, because you knew that draining him would give you great power. But how did you know about Bart?’
‘I have my spies. Miss Bertha is one, but there are others. So, will you be King or shall I ask your brother? I need an answer now.’
‘But how do I know that what you say about Dalinia’s death is true? My father told me that Horatio killed her. How do I know which version is correct?’
A flush came to Randling’s cheeks. Edward wondered if he had gone too far.
‘A good point,’ said Randling eventually. ‘We shall go to your father and I will make him tell you the truth.’
‘You control his mind,’ Edward said as gently as he could. ‘You can make him say whatever you want.’
‘Again, a good point.’ Randling tapped his chin. ‘Ah, I have it. Come with me.’ He walked towards the castle. ‘You remember that one of the mysteries surrounding your Aunt Dalinia’s death was how the assassin had entered her bedroom. Her door was barred from the inside.’
‘Yes, but a window was open.’
‘Her room was on the third floor, and there was no way to climb up or down.’
‘It was thought that the assassin may have used a ladder.’
Randling scoffed again. ‘Do you really think no one would have seen a ladder long enough to reach so high?’
They entered the castle, climbed the grand staircase to the third floor and proceeded along a corridor until Randling stopped in front of a solid wooden door. He produced a key and unlocked it. ‘This was Dalinia’s room.’
Edward had never seen it before. It housed an ornate four-poster bed, several armchairs and a desk. Rugs covered the floor and paintings the walls. He crossed to the window. Indeed, it was a long way down and there didn’t seem any way to climb up. Randling opened a cupboard built into the wall near the door and started pulling out the empty shelves. When the cupboard was empty, he pressed a spot high on its inside wall. The entire back wall slid sideways, revealing a passage.
‘Come,’ said Randling, entering. Edward followed. The passage was just wide enough to walk through and there was enough light from the opening behind them to see dimly ahead. After twenty paces they came to a dead end. Randling found a small knob near the floor and pushed it. The end of the passage slid open, revealing another room. More empty shelves blocked their way in. Randling pushed them out. They clattered to the floor and he stepped through the cupboard, Edward behind him. They were in another bedroom, similar to the one they had left.
‘This was your father’s room before he was King,’ said Randling. ‘As you’ve seen, the secret passage leads from his room to your aunt’s. It is perhaps understandable that your aunt’s room was never used again after her death, but ask yourself this: why was this room never used again? It has always belonged to the first son of the ruler. Why did it not become your room? The answer, of course, is that your father did not want anyone to discover this passage. This is how he gained entry to his sister’s room when he murdered her. No one else knew of the passage until my father Horatio grew suspicious of Corolius, investigated and discovered it.’
Edward was shocked. Could his father really be a murderer?
‘So,’ said Randling. ‘What is your answer? Will you become a puppet king?’
Edward tried to focus. He knew what he had to do to survive. ‘It would be my honour to be King.’
Randling smiled. ‘I thought you’d say that.’
‘On one condition,’ added Edward. ‘You don’t kill Bart.’ The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think about them.
Randling’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
Edward wasn’t sure he knew the answer. He tried to say something convincing. ‘I just went halfway across the kingdom for him. I nearly fell off a cliff, got eaten by a tiger and murdered by soarers, and I missed out on lots of hot baths and ate horrible food. I don’t want all that effort to be wasted.’
‘Bart, with his powers, is potentially a threat to me,’ said Randling.
‘His powers don’t work within the castle grounds because of the blocking spell.’
There was an uneasy silence.
‘I agree,’ said Randling eventually. ‘Of course, like everyone else, Bart must keep the law of the land, but as long as he does that he will survive.’
Edward felt a surge of relief. ‘By the way, if the blocking spell stops Bart from using his powers within the castle, why doesn’t it stop you from using yours?’
‘Because whoever created the spell aimed it only at Bart,’ responded Randling. Suddenly he executed a deep bow. ‘Your Majesty,’ he said, an ironic smile on his lips.
Edward had long dreamt that those words would be used to address him, but this wasn’t quite the way he had visualised it.
Chapter 25
Alone and Apart
It had taken Dani some time to find a way back up the cliff. She now hurried toward the campsite, hobbling from a sore knee that she had knocked against a rock in the water, her stomach churning with worry and desperately hoping she would find Bart asleep where she had left him.
It was still dark when she arrived at the camp. Near the embers of the fire, she saw the grass bedding where Bart had lain. He was gone.
Dani sank to her knees. Where was he? He never woke during the night. Surely he wouldn’t have wandered off. She looked around. Could he have followed her when she stormed off? But if he had, surely she would have heard or seen him.
She thought she knew what must have happened. Edward had been told by his father that he had to bring Bart back. He must have snuck off, fetched the soldiers, then returned and taken him. That sneaky, treacherous rat! By now they were probably back at the castle. She didn’t understand how Randling was involved, but obviously he was.
Dani slammed her hand into the ground in frustration. Why did I leave Bart alone?
She knew the answer. She had been so busy feeling sorry for herself that she had forgotten that her most important job was to take care of her brother. How could she have been so stupid and selfish? She sat back, cross-legged, and hung her head in her hands, feeling desolate. She had lost him again.
She sat there in a kind of shock until something Melindarah had said came back to her: Whether we have a hundred years left or just a single day, life is all we have. Make the most of your time.
She took a deep breath and tried to pull herself together. Bart needed her.
She studied the area around where he had slept, but the ground was hard and covered with animal tracks. She couldn’t make out any footprints, but if those soldiers had taken him, then surely they would have returned to the castle. She would go there.
Dawn was starting to break. Once the animals awoke, without Bart to control them, she would look a lot like breakfast to many of them. She strode briskly in the direction of the city.
She knew she was close to Cranlon and expected to soon emerge from the forest. However, she didn’t. Gradual
ly, her frustration mounted. As the sun rose, Dani realised that she was lost. Because of the closeness of the trees and vines that surrounded her, she could only see a little way ahead, so it was impossible to get her bearings. For all she knew, she might be going around in circles.
As dawn broke at the campsite, the animals began to wake. Immediately, they sensed that the force that had been directing them was absent. At first they wandered around aimlessly, confused and unsure, and then they began to head off, back in the direction they had come from.
Happily, there wasn’t a blood frenzy in which all the meat-eaters attacked the other animals, because even though Bart had gone, they all retained a vague sense that they had recently been united in some sort of common mission, and that it wouldn’t really be right to start killing and eating each other. So the lions and tigers didn’t attack and eat the antelopes. They just found other antelopes and attacked and ate them instead.
One animal didn’t head for home. Flango the warthog had grown to like Bart, and was sad he was gone. He missed Bart and wanted to find him, so he sniffed about for his scent. However, because Bart had been carried from the campsite, Flango could find no trace of it. He noticed that the other boy and the girl were also gone, sniffed for their scents and was able to pick up both. Perhaps they could lead him to Bart. Which one should he follow? The girl always slept next to Bart. He would try to find her.
Dani’s legs were tired, so she sat with her back to a tree, ate and drank, and tried to work out what to do. Every minute she delayed, Bart might be in danger. She sensed something to her left. Out of the trees padded a warthog. Dani scrambled to her feet. The warthog’s left ear drooped, while the right one stood up. She realised it was Bart’s warthog, but without Bart controlling him, he was also a wild animal with long, dangerous tusks. The warthog came closer. Dani had never felt easy around animals and now she started to panic. She turned and ran through the trees, stumbling over roots and uneven ground. She could hear the warthog galloping behind her and looked desperately around for a tree with branches low enough to climb. As she did, she tripped and fell.
She rose to her knees, pulled a rock from her satchel and turned to face the warthog, who had stopped just a few paces away. Dani decided her best chance was to throw the rock early, before he attacked. She drew her arm back and ready to fling it, but hesitated. The warthog’s teeth weren’t bared, his body wasn’t tense and he wasn’t licking his chops.
The warthog took a step forward and Dani wondered if his gentle body language was a trick. He came closer. Dani’s heart hammered. Should she throw? Tentatively, she moved her other hand slowly forward and very carefully stroked the warthog’s nose.
The warthog purred.
She lowered the rock and stroked him again. After a while, she felt safe enough to move closer and put her arms around him. She had never hugged an animal before, and it felt safe and warm. For a moment she could almost forget that she was lost in the forest, her brother had vanished, and she was going to die in 998 days.
They stayed like that, as if in the eye of a fearsome cyclone. Dani knew there was more trouble to come, but at least for a few moments she had found some sort of peace.
Eventually she let out a deep sigh and struggled to her feet.
‘Let’s go and find Bart, Flango.’
Flango walked beside Dani, hoping she would lead him to Bart. They pushed through bushes and past trees. After they had been going some time Flango detected the scent of several humans moving across their path. He sniffed again. The humans had come from the direction of where they had slept last night, and had gone across their path to their right. Among the other man smells, he detected a faint whiff of Bart.
But what was the girl doing? She had completely ignored the Bart smell. Was she smell-blind? Flango turned right to follow the human scent, and then stopped and looked back at the girl. Normally, Flango would have walked on without her, but they had just shared a hug. Flango guessed the girl was also looking for Bart, so he turned around, trotted past her and stood across her path. He put his head down and gently pushed her in the direction of the human scent.
The girl crinkled up her face. Flango pushed her again with his head, and then again until eventually the girl’s face relaxed and she turned in the direction Flango wanted her to go. Flango took up the scent and charged ahead.
Bart awoke to see a grey ceiling above him. Where had the forest gone? He turned his head, saw a long wall painted with battle scenes and realised that he was in the throne room of the castle. He was lying on a couch. Had he been captured by the Northerners? He propped himself up on his elbows. Behind him were two guards. In front of him were three steps that led up to the throne and on it sat . . . the man from the forest. Randling.
A bolt of fear shot through Bart. This was the man who had sucked his mind dry. What would he do to him this time?
Randling was watching him, a thin smile curling at the corners of his mouth. ‘We found you in the forest, my boy. How are you feeling?’
‘A hot bath would be nice,’ replied Bart, trying to hide his fear.
Randling chuckled. ‘We shall see. Perhaps, first, you would like to meet the new King.’
Bart heard footsteps behind him. He pulled himself up into a sitting position and turned. Walking towards the front of the room with a robe around his shoulders and a crown on his head was Edward.
‘Welcome, sire,’ said Randling. ‘Are your royal garments to your liking?’
Edward looked at Bart, and then quickly away. ‘The crown’s a bit loose,’ he replied.
‘Well, your head will soon grow. Kings always get big heads,’ said Randling and laughed.
Edward felt his face redden as he walked up the three steps to the dais. Randling vacated the throne and gestured for Edward to take it. Edward hesitated. How many times had he imagined sitting on the throne for the first time? In his daydreams, though, the room had always been full of cheering people.
‘A big moment,’ said Randling, as if reading his mind. Perhaps he had been, thought Edward.
‘Sit, your Majesty.’ Randling drew out the last two words in a way that sounded slightly mocking.
Edward took a deep breath and sat.
‘There we go,’ said Randling. ‘King Edward the Fourth. May he reign forever. Or at least for a while.’ Randling sat in a plain chair next to the throne. ‘Your first duty is an important one, your Majesty. This fellow here, Bart, is, as you know, a servant. He was found in the forest outside the city, and it appears he had assembled a large group of ferocious animals that he was going to use to attack the city.’
‘That’s not right,’ said Bart, trying to stand. The two guards drew their swords and pointed them at his neck. He eased back onto the sofa.
‘We wouldn’t expect someone planning such a deed to be honest about it,’ said Randling.
Edward knew Randling’s accusation was false, and that Randling knew it was false, because Edward had told Randling the real reason why Bart had assembled the animal army. But he had to play this carefully.
Randling’s testing me to see if I’ll do what I’m told. And if I don’t, I won’t be King for long.
‘Assembling any sort of hostile force against the city is serious,’ said Edward carefully. ‘But I wonder if perhaps Bart thought there was some sort of threat to the city. Perhaps he was just trying to protect it?’
Randling frowned. ‘What threat? We are peaceful and happy. Unless you mean me, your Majesty? Is that what you mean?’
‘No, of course not,’ said Edward quickly. ‘Perhaps he thought there was another threat.’
‘How could he have got that idea? Do you think someone tricked him? If so, we must arrest that person. Do you know who might have manipulated Bart into thinking that there was a threat to the city?’
Edward could see that Randling was enjoying this, and he knew he had been out
-manoeuvred. If he explained that it was he who had tricked Bart into gathering the animals, then he would be the one who was in trouble.
‘No,’ said Edward.
‘But –’ began Bart.
‘Silence!’ ordered Randling, and then turned back to Edward. ‘I’m sorry, your Majesty. Would you like to hear what the boy has to say?’
If Bart spoke, he would explain how Edward had tricked him. ‘No,’ said Edward softly.
‘What should we do with this boy?’ asked Randling. ‘Raising a force against the city is treason. I presume that you know what the penalty for treason is. Death.’
On the couch, Bart appeared both shocked and terrified. Edward looked uncertainly at Randling. Was he really going to be asked to order Bart’s execution? But Randling had promised not to kill Bart.
‘What do you think, your Majesty? Death?’ Randling asked, as if he were offering Edward a chocolate.
‘I . . . I . . . thought we had agreed . . . not for . . . him,’ pleaded Edward.
‘Yes, but as I said, like everyone, Bart must keep the law of the land. He has committed treason. The law must come first, your Majesty.’
Edward tried to think of a way out. How could he save Bart’s life? If he refused to do what Randling wanted, Randling would just do it himself. ‘Isn’t there another option?’ he asked hesitantly.
Randling’s eyes narrowed. ‘I had hoped, your Majesty, that we would be able to work well together. Was I wrong?’
‘No,’ said Edward quickly. ‘It was just . . . a thought. I’m sure we can work together.’
‘Then . . .’ prompted Randling.
The Twins of Tintarfell Page 18
