by Anne Forbes
“What are your orders, sir? What shall we do?”
“Call the fleet back immediately!” he snarled. “I’ve a strong suspicion that you’ll find that the mist will lift the minute it heads for France!”
“And the fishing boats, sir?”
“No, leave them. We’ll continue to monitor them by satellite. It will be interesting to see if anything happens to them.”
With that, he stalked out of the room and, with his departure, the crystal started to cloud over.
Tatler looked absolutely rapturous. “We’ve won! We’ve won!” he said, throwing his arms in the air and dancing round like a madman. “He’s withdrawn the fleet! MacArthur, you’re fantastic! I only hope Wyndham and the PM were watching on their crystal! The PM will be over the moon, believe me! Absolutely over the moon!”
34. The Reluctant Broomstick
Amgarad flew high, his sharp eyes scanning the craggy peaks of the mountains that lay stretched below him like a black and white carpet; for in the valleys, the snow lay thick and deep.
The air was crisp and clear, however, and as he quartered the slopes below, his heart sank at the immensity of the task he had set himself. The snow witches, he knew, could have taken Clara anywhere. And even if she were in the open, her magic cloak would make it virtually impossible for him to see her.
Hours passed as he methodically searched the multitude of mountains and valleys that seemed to stretch endlessly beneath him and, as the day wore on and night started to fall, was actually thinking of returning to his master when a movement far beneath him, caught his eye. As he snapped his wings back and swooped lower, a gleam of amusement spread across his face. This was certainly something to save to tell Archie and Arthur when he got back to the hill!
Far below him, a large, black crow was attempting to ride a broomstick and making a complete hash of it; for the broomstick was diving, swooping and looping-the-loop in its efforts to rid itself of its unwelcome passenger. The crow, to give it its due, seemed equally determined to stay on and as it flapped wildly in an effort to keep its balance — not exactly easy when upside down — Amgarad remembered the crow that had followed them from Edinburgh. His eyes sharpened and his dive steepened.
Between trying to keep his balance and thinking of how pleased Clara was going to be when he brought her the broomstick, Kitor was much too occupied to think of danger and for once neglected to observe the first rule of the wild. Watch your back, always, all the time!
It wasn’t surprising, therefore, that he almost had a heart attack when Amgarad swooped, caught the broomstick in his talons and eyed him grimly. Wings flapping frantically, Kitor held on as the broomstick steadied and then gulped fearfully at the sight of the great eagle whose beak was mere inches from his face. To avoid certain death, he knew what he had to say — and he said it fast.
“Clara,” he gabbled, “I know where she is! I can take you to her.”
Amgarad tightened his grip on the broomstick with such ferocity that he almost cracked the wood. The broomstick shrieked in pain and Kitor nearly fell off at the sudden noise.
“Where is she?” Amgarad said. “Tell me at once!”
“I’ll do better than that; I’ll take you to her. It isn’t far now. Look, you can see it. That cave in the side of the mountain over there.”
“Why the broomstick?” Amgarad’s eyes were fierce.
“Well, she can’t fly, can she?” answered Kitor, relief making him chatty. “We talked about it this morning and she reckoned that some of the witches’ broomsticks might still be lying round after the battle. She thought she might be able to fly one, but to be honest, I don’t know if she will. I haven’t been able to get this one to fly in a straight line all morning!”
Amgarad looked ahead to the small dark opening in the side of the mountain and his heart lifted as he saw Clara standing at the entrance to the cave, waving to him.
“Amgarad!” he heard her voice faintly on the wind. “Am-garad!”
It took only a few minutes for Amgarad to reach the cave. Clara jumped up and down in excitement as he swooped in with Kitor clinging frantically to the broomstick as it brushed the walls of the cave.
“Amgarad!” she cried. “Thank goodness you’re not frozen any more! I knew that Lord Rothlan could undo the witches’ spell! Oh, it’s wonderful to see you again!” And seeing Kitor sitting rather dejectedly on the broomstick, she knelt down so that he could hop onto her arm. “I’m glad to see you too, Kitor,” she smiled, straightening up. “You’ve been gone for ages but thank you for finding me a broomstick!”
“Kitor!” Amgarad’s eyes grew suddenly stern. “Prince Kalman has a crow called Kitor! Is the prince not your master, crow?”
Kitor looked at Clara and shifted on his claws, too petrified to speak.
“Kitor saved my life, Amgarad,” Clara said swiftly, coming to his aid. “He told the prince that I was dead when I wasn’t but somehow the prince knew he was lying. He sent a thunderbolt to kill him but I managed to save him.” She looked from Kitor to Amgarad. “He is one of us now, Amgarad,” she smiled, looking at him anxiously, for he was not normally quite so fierce-looking. “He was bringing the broomstick for me — so that I could escape from this awful cave.”
Amgarad looked at the crow who met his eyes steadily.
“If your master, Lord Rothlan, will have me,” Kitor said, “I will be proud to serve him.”
“You can ask him yourself, Kitor,” Amgarad replied, “for we are going to him now.” He looked disparagingly at the broomstick. “Once I’ve sorted out this broomstick, that is!”
He gripped the broomstick in his claws and spoke to it with deceptive gentleness. “You are going to carry this girl, broomstick, and carry her safely. I want none of your tricks, do you understand?”
The broomstick, who had already felt the power of Amgarad’s claws, hastened to agree and, as a sign of its good intentions, immediately floated into the air and hovered steadily beside them.
“No tricks, mind,” Amgarad warned, “or I’ll turn you into matchwood!”
The broomstick trembled at the very thought. “You’re scaring it, Amgarad,” Clara chided as she climbed on. “I’m sure it will behave beautifully.”
Amgarad looked at her sideways. “It had better,” he said. “Don’t forget that it was once a witch’s broomstick!” He turned to the crow. “Kitor, will you fly alongside Clara? Just to make sure the broomstick behaves itself. I’ll lead the way over the mountains.”
Amgarad launched himself into space and Kitor flapped beside her as the broomstick flew out over the precipice that dropped from the cave entrance. Clara, who still didn’t like heights, kept her eyes firmly shut as she sailed out of the cave on the broomstick. Even when they had left the mountain behind and she judged it safe to open her eyes, she felt decidedly uneasy at being so high. Broomsticks, after all, were thin things compared to the solid safety of Sephia’s broad back!
The journey, fortunately, was not long and as they started to glide downwards she could see the distant gleam of the sea.
“Look, Clara,” said Kitor, “look over to your left. Can you see the forest and the Black Tower? That is Ardray, the home of Prince Kalman!”
“Ardray!” she repeated, startled, for she hadn’t realized that they were that close. She paled and gripped the broomstick tightly as she turned her head — and as she looked she gasped in wonder for nothing had prepared her for the sight of Prince Kalman’s grimly beautiful castle.
Until then she hadn’t really given much thought to its appearance and the soaring majestic grandeur of the vision that met her eyes was totally unexpected. It took her breath away completely. This, she thought, was a magician’s castle if ever there was one. She stared at it, round-eyed and totally entranced. Tall and turreted, with carved, winged eagles decorating its balconies, the Black Tower of Ardray reared high, proud and elegant above the trees of the magic forest.
35. Kitor Joins the Club
Even as
Clara looked towards the Black Tower fascinated by its magnificent grandeur, she heard a distant shout and peering downwards, saw a group of riders looking up at her from the snow-covered hillside.
“Clara!” her father’s voice mirrored his relief as he saw her on the broomstick.
“Serai!” ordered Lord Rothlan. And the black horses of Ruksh grew their wings and soared into the air to meet them.
Clara laughed in delight as the great horses soared round her. Neil and Lady Ellan flew alongside her as the broomstick gradually lost height and, once they landed, her father caught her in his arms and swung her round and round in the air.
“Clara,” he said, “thank goodness you’re back. I was worried out of my mind the whole time you were away!”
“I’m glad to be back, too,” she said, her eyes full of tears as everyone made a fuss of her. “I was frightened at first but after a while I knew I would come to no harm. The Sultan’s spell and the magic cloak protected me.”
Rothlan looked at Clara with relief. “Thank goodness you’re safe, Clara,” he said. “Now that we’re all together again, I can, at last, hex us back into the twenty-first century.” And with that, he left the group and strode forward to stand on a great spur of rock that jutted out over the stream. As Neil, Jaikie and Hamish watched the cloaked figure in fascination, they heard him recite the words of a spell. As he stood with his arms spread out to the gathering gloom, there was a sudden, breathless hush as though the world stood still. The air seemed to ripple alarmingly round them and the mountains wavered unsteadily for a few seconds and then settled. They looked at him questioningly as he returned and he smiled at their anxious faces.
“Relax,” he said, “I’ve just taken us back into the twenty-first century!”
Neil looked round, slightly stunned. “But … nothing’s changed,” he said. “Everything’s still the same.”
“Well, I don’t suppose mountains change that much over the centuries,” Jaikie said, “but if you look over there,” he pointed along the glen, “you can see the lights of cars on a road.”
Relief flooded through Neil in comforting waves. The familiar sight of headlights and telegraph poles made him realize just how much he appreciated being back in his own time.
“What about Ardray?” he asked Jaikie, looking over the glen to the silver glint of the sea. “Is it still there?”
“It’s still there, don’t worry,” grinned Jaikie. “You’ll be able to see it because you’re wearing a firestone but it will be invisible to the ordinary people who live round about.”
Rothlan strode over to them. “I think we should rest here,” he said, meeting the Ranger’s eyes for, despite Clara’s assurances, she looked tired and drawn.
Amgarad coughed and meeting Lord Rothlan’s eyes, nodded towards the crow, who sat somewhat apprehensively beside him.
Rothlan turned to the bird and held out his arm so that Kitor could perch on it. Kitor fluttered up and looked anxiously into brown eyes that were very different from the cold, blue eyes of Prince Kalman.
“Lord Rothlan,” Clara said anxiously. “Kitor saved my life, really he did! He didn’t want the prince to send a thunderbolt to kill me so he told him a lie. And he was trying to bring me a broomstick so that I could get out of that dreadful cave. He could have just flown away and left me, but he didn’t.”
“You have a good friend in Clara,” Rothlan said, smiling slightly and looking at Kitor appraisingly. “Well, crow, do you renounce your allegiance to Prince Kalman?”
Kitor nodded emphatically. “Yes, master,” he said.
“Will you serve me, Kitor? Faithfully, unto death?”
“I will, master,” the crow said proudly, “faithfully, unto death!”
Rothlan smiled. “Then I bid you welcome to my service,” he said, passing his hand over the crow in a protective gesture. “In fact, you have already served me, Kitor, and you have my thanks — indeed, you have everyone’s thanks — for rescuing Clara, who is dear to us all.” There was a murmur of agreement and even the Ranger, who had no great opinion of crows in general, spoke kindly to him and placed him on his shoulder.
There was a bustle of activity as they set up camp by the tumbling, mountain stream and although Clara had her first proper meal in days she ate very little and, as Neil watched her anxiously, fell into an exhausted sleep. Kitor, however, ate well; for Amgarad had gone hunting and invited him to share his kill.
“Tell us about Ardray, Kitor,” invited Lord Rothlan, once they had all finished eating. “We are near the edge of the forest now and over the years I’ve heard many strange tales about it — and the evil things that live in it.”
Kitor shivered. “Indeed, master, it is a frightening place to pass through and dangerous even to those who fly over it, for although you and your horses will be able to cross it freely, it can still destroy you.”
“What would happen to us?” asked Neil interestedly.
Kitor shifted uneasily on his claws and lowered his voice as they leant forward to listen to his words. “The trees in its forest are magic trees,” he said. “The undersides of their leaves are crusted white with a drug that makes you lose your memory. The great red balls that hang from them are not flowers. They are tightly-curled balls of creepers that catch strangers in their coils. If you fly high, you can avoid the creepers but the leaves would release their poison into the air and you and the horses would forget everything — even why you were there at all.”
Lady Ellan shuddered. “How horrible,” she said, looking in alarm at the crow. “What else is there?”
“Goblins,” answered Kitor, “evil creatures that live in the darkness under the roots of the trees. I’ve never seen them myself but I’ve heard tell of them. They keep watch from inside hollow trees and move the paths here and there so that strangers get lost and can never find their way out. It is said that no one can reach the Black Tower of Ardray while the goblins are on guard.”
“If what you say is true then perhaps it might be better to use broomsticks to get to the tower instead of the horses,” Rothlan said thoughtfully.
Kitor put his head to one side. “You’re right, master,” he said approvingly, “broomsticks would be much better. Why, with them you could fly straight into the room of mirrors. The prince wouldn’t keep the crown anywhere else.”
“That means that one of you would have to stay behind to look after the horses,” Rothlan said, glancing across at Jaikie and Hamish. “They’re far too valuable to leave unattended.”
“Won’t the prince be watching us in his crystal, though?” asked Neil, looking round apprehensively. “Now that we’re back in the twenty-first century, he could be looking at us at this very minute! After all, he must know that we’re close to Ardray. Surely he’ll be keeping an eye on us?”
“It’s getting dark, Neil. If he tried to see us just now, the light from the crystal would give him away.”
“But if we get too close to the crown, he could just walk into the tower through his mirror and take it back to Edinburgh! What’ll we do if he does that and it isn’t in the tower when we get inside?”
“We thought about that when we made our plans, Neil, and we’ve taken it into consideration. You see, the crown is only really safe when it is in the tower; there’s no way he would ever leave it unattended in the Edinburgh house. We’re going to strike at a time when he can’t look in his crystal or walk through his mirrors; a time when he’s out of his house and with other people. As he will be when he has his meeting in parliament tomorrow afternoon.”
“Anyway,” added Kitor, “he must be feeling quite safe at the moment. He knows that Clara was chosen to steal the crown and he thinks she’s still trapped in the cave.”
“Clara! Chosen to steal the crown? Why would he think that?” queried the Ranger.
“Because,” said Kitor taking a trembling breath, “because I told him so. I heard Clara calling to her mother when she left Arthur’s Seat. She said she would bring back the
crown. I’m … I’m truly sorry,” he stammered.
Amgarad clicked his beak fiercely but Rothlan’s face was calm as he looked at the bird thoughtfully. “That is in the past, Kitor and it is forgiven,” he said with a wry smile, “but you actually misled the prince, you know, for Neil also knows the magic words that will restore the crown to us.”
“John! John, can you hear me?”
They swung round as the voice spoke out of the air just beside them. Neil looked at his father in amazement and they both jumped to their feet.
“Mum?” Neil said anxiously, looking round.
“Where are you, Janet?” the Ranger said.
“I’m here, on this carpet,” the voice said. “Just a minute.” Mrs. MacLean wriggled to the side of her carpet, swung her legs over the edge and appeared before them.
“Mum? What on earth are you doing here?”
“It’s Clara,” she said. “I had to come. I was worried about Clara, so I called the carpet and came.” She looked round and her voice rose in alarm as she realized that Clara wasn’t there. “Where is she? Why isn’t she here?”
“Calm down, Janet,” her husband said, looking at Neil and Lord Rothlan in alarm. “Clara’s all right.”
Lady Ellan smiled and, moving over to Mrs MacLean, kissed her on both cheeks. “Janet,” she said softly, “how very nice to see you. Now, don’t worry. Clara’s asleep just now but if you take your coat off and sit down, I’ll wake her up.”
“Never mind my coat, I must see her. I’ll come with you.”
Lady Ellan led her over to where Clara lay, sound asleep.
“She looks ill,” her mother said, leaning over and looking at her closely. “She’s been ill, hasn’t she?”
Lady Ellan looked helplessly at the Ranger. She didn’t want to panic Janet by telling her Clara had been caught by snow witches.
