The Knot Impossible

by Barbara Else

  Swan stumbled up and aimed his pistol.

  Murgott pushed his hand down. “Can’t risk hurting the child.”

  Rufkin tried to run on, but Murgott grabbed him. Lu’nedda had caught up as well. One by one, all the old adventurers stopped beside them. The only thing to do was watch Goodabod cart Vosco onto the yacht. Not like a roll of blanket now—the kid was kicking. Good on him. Rufkin choked down a sob.

  From the yacht, Calleena trained her pistol too on the adventurers. As the gangway was hauled up, Rufkin managed to squirm from Murgott’s grip. He raced for the wharf. Thunderhead aimed above his head and fired. Someone tackled Rufkin from behind, and his face squashed into the dirt. It was Lord Hodie.

  Rufkin struggled up again, spitting grass.

  “You said we were even,” he shouted to Goodabod. “We’re not any more!”

  Doctor Goodabod gave a finger-salute to his deerstalker hat. “You are right,” he shouted back. “Therefore I tell you three somethings to be even again. One, Council of Wisdom is half council of honesty, half council of dark greediness. Two, King Jasper is absent and cannot be reached. Three, Queen Sibilla is stuck at Adventurers’ Rest and can go nowhere. Thus—” He laughed and picked Vosco up by the scruff of his neck— “As Thunderhead said, royal sprat is perfect for the job.”

  “What job?” screamed Rufkin. “Madam Butterly can’t adopt him!”

  “Adopt? Ha! No, no. With him, Vida Butterly’s greatest business deal yet will be as sweet as a deal can be.” That ogre’s laugh was getting on Rufkin’s nerves. “Run off, cower with the old folk and pray that you survive the end-of-days.”

  “You’d never hurt a little kid!” Rufkin cried.

  The ogre nudged Thunderhead. The captain shrugged.

  Goodabod beckoned Sammo and put a hand on his shoulder. “This is not a little kid, and a wetting such as I give him does no harm at all. But here’s an example.”

  He shoved Sammo overboard into the river. Thunderhead aimed and fired. Sammo didn’t surface. The Sea Honey with her quiet engine began moving downriver.

  Murgott shoved Rufkin back into the grass. Shots blasted over their heads from adventurers behind, the yacht in front. The white-haired troll raised a rifle with a shiny barrel and pulled the trigger—then let out a roar as the rifle exploded, falling to pieces in his hands.

  “Backfire,” said the tiny old lady. “Of course—zirbonium barrel. Useless.” She examined the troll’s face. “That’s the good thing about thick warty skin. Still pretty, my lad.”

  When Rufkin lifted his head again the Sea Honey was well away. Sammo still hadn’t surfaced. Tears dripped down Rufkin’s face. Some went back up his nose because of his gasping.

  “War is no time for sentiment,” Murgott growled.

  “War?” said Rufkin.

  Murgott scowled. “What else do you call it? There’s us and there’s them. They’ve stolen a child at gunpoint. They’ve shot one of their own to scare us off. Call it an ugly game if you like. I call it war.”

  Rufkin stumbled down past the wharf. There was no point in it—he just couldn’t stop himself. The Sea Honey was rounding the bend now. If only he’d thought faster. If only he’d found a way to help Vosco.

  Amid his gasps of hopelessness he heard a splash and a groan. He took a step nearer the edge—there lay Sammo, caught in a snag. Rufkin scrambled down and tried to lift his head out of the water.

  Sammo smiled, a sad sort of smile, but Rufkin wouldn’t have believed a jolly one. “I…I’ll tell you,” Sammo stammered. “Boys like to know. I would’ve liked knowing when I was a boy. There’s a…a worse than a dragon. Bigger than—” his voice hitched as if something terrible pinched him inside— “than a dragon-eagle. I’ve never seen it…she calls it the deep-dragon.”

  Deep—the deep-dragon—could it be the shape in the ocean? The wonder of underground and undersea in Mistress Mucclack’s ancient story?

  “Lonely,” Rufkin found himself whispering. “Terribly lonely…”

  Sammo’s eyes had closed. Was he dead? But he spoke again on a ragged breath. “More wealth and power than even your parents could dream of with…their big actors’ heads. Famous big heads…” He lay still, chest barely moving.

  There was nothing in all of the world that would help Vosco. Or Rufkin. Or even the world. But Rufkin found himself shouting.

  “Lord Hodie! Help! Over here!”

  It felt weird, wanting to help an enemy. But Sammo was wheeled back to Adventurers’ Rest in a wooden trundler. Rufkin walked for about five steps, then a couple of old people half-carried him. Their kindness made him feel worse. What did kindness even matter any more?

  They set him in the day room again, and sent Nissy and an orphan to fetch him some calming tea.

  The Queen was out of bed, cleaned up at last but still a bit staggery. Her hair shone, mostly soft blonde curls down over her ears, though some were frizzy. She’d been given a white shirt so long it might as well be a dress, dark purple leggings, and blue boots. The belt with the scabbard and dagger was around her waist. She looked like a Queen now, but she’d always behaved like one even when he’d thought she was a puppet. Her cheeks were rose pink. It was awful to see them turn pale while Murgott told her Vosco had been kidnapped at gunpoint.

  “For a business deal? But what can it be?”

  “Your Majesty.” Murgott rubbed her hand. “Youth and skill has won to this point. Old age and know-how can still win the day.”

  It was even more awful to see the Queen’s face not brighten at all.

  It was just about the worst thing of all to see Lord Hodie watching the Queen. As if it was written in the air above the poodle curls, Rufkin knew how Hodie’s heart broke to accept he couldn’t help the person he loved the most.

  The ex-Empress Lu’nedda clapped her hands sharp as a gunshot. “Yes, dear Murgott. We must win day, week, month, and years to come. First, boy Rufkin needs a bath. So does girl.” She squinted at Nissy who—of course—looked insulted. “Quick. Boy in ordinary bathroom. Girl who has been helpful with orphans can use luxury bathroom. Next we all have the nourishing soup. Then we make plans. All must be done at very much speed.”

  With an arm as strong as any aunt’s, she shoved Rufkin to the back of the house and into the ordinary bathroom. He didn’t care what bathroom he had. Oddly, it was a comfort of sorts to find the plumbing was strong old metal. It worked with groans to show it was on the job.

  An orphan cracked the door and with a skinny arm passed Rufkin fresh clothes. The length of sleeve and leg was spot on. But they must have been borrowed from an aged dwarf. They were far too wide. He didn’t care about that either.

  Then he was allowed back to the day room and told to sit again at its long wooden table.

  The old adventurers were saying how much better life always seems after an exploit when you have your first bite of something tasty and the rest of the plateful still waits under your nose.

  Nobody seemed in much of a rush. And Rufkin didn’t feel at all hungry. But Lu’nedda put a soup spoon into his hand as she walked past in a fresh white boilersuit. He had a sip. The scent of coriander, rich celery soup with not a whisker of stringy bits and thickened with the creamy weight of potato, did somehow lend strength back to his soul.

  Before long Nissy came and stood next to him. Her hair was pig-tailed again and she wore a clean but also too-wide tunic in pretty leaf-green. “Just so you know. I never told Harry or Calleena that the puppet was the Queen.”

  “That’s because you didn’t know,” said Rufkin.

  “I did at Jovial River just before she ran with Vosco.” She plumped down on the chair next to him. “Calleena was rubbish at riding a horse. So was I, but I’d never been on one. That was my first and last time, that’s all I’m saying.”

  Lu’nedda swept up again. “Quick, finish soup. Then children must rest, play, and relax.”

  “No.” At once Rufkin’s face burned from daring to interrupt such a grand woman. “S
orry. But what about Sammo? About what he said?”

  Lu’nedda frowned. “He is unconscious. Doctor Maisie has to operate.” Her strong-aunt hand dragged him from his chair. “Rufkin, if you have more to tell us, do not say another word until you have the audience.”

  ~

  He had to face a circle of Murgott, ex-Empress Lu’nedda, Queen Sibilla, and Lord Hodie. Not to mention Swan, Delilah, Littlewink, and most of the others. Nissy hovered on the edge. Stage-fright stuck needles in his chest but Rufkin spoke up.

  “Sammo didn’t say much, so this won’t take long.” He continued—how Sammo had said there was a dragon far worse than a dragon. How he’d whispered about wealth and power. How Rufkin himself had twice seen a great shape in the ocean that struck the fear of being alone deep into him. When he said that part, his voice quivered. How Mistress Mucclack had told of old tales about the network of caverns underground and undersea.

  Murgott’s frown grew more and more suspicious. But the Queen—Rufkin had a feeling she understood. She sat and thought for a while. Her hair actually went bouffy with it—her changeable hair, one of the signs of her magical qualities.

  At last she shook her head. “What Mistress Mucclack talked about must be the deep-dragon. But I think what you describe is too small.”

  “It was enormous! Bigger than this house, bigger than—” Oh, what would he know? He turned to go.

  Lord Hodie laid a hand on his back. “Rufkin, wait. Sibilla, what do you know about the deep-dragon?”

  “The story is so old. It’s just a few fragments.” She pressed her hands to her eyes and thought for another moment. “It was so huge that it liked to emerge from underground only at one place. The Eastern Isle. In the Eastern Lake, I suppose. What bothers me is Rufkin saying he felt such a sense of loneliness in the midst of his fear. I felt it too.”

  She had? His back straightened a little.

  “I dreamed about it when I was in the launch,” Sibilla continued in her soft way. “That’s what woke me while the children were up on the barge. I thought I was still dreaming. I ate an oat-bar to check. It tasted awful.”

  And she’d put on the sun hat. Rufkin glanced at Nissy—she seemed on the edge of a grin for a moment, just as he was.

  “Did you feel it?” the Queen asked Nissy.

  Nissy shrugged. So that was a no.

  “What worries me,” said Lu’nedda, “is tetchy and criminal assistant to Vida Butterly saying, ‘We have three days.’ And three days from now marked in Butterly’s notebook. Three days to what? And what does greedy Butterly want with Vosco?”

  “We must move as fast as we can,” said Murgott. “We have to plan.”

  A plan would be great. As long as Rufkin didn’t have to get back on Old Ocean. Not for anyone. Not at any time, nor anyhow. Especially not if there was some sort of dragon.

  ~

  “A plan to survive in the end-of-days,” rumbled Swan.

  “A plan to subdue the enemy without fighting.” Littlewink’s eyes were damp with tears. “So we may continue to climb mountains for a peaceful dekko at the stars.”

  “He just means a look,” Delilah muttered. “A squizz. Or a bit of a gander.”

  “Please to concentrate,” said Lu’nedda.

  “A plan for the return of King Jasper,” Lord Hodie said. “Her Majesty is still too weak…”

  “But she stopped the fire in the winery spreading to the house,” said Rufkin. “Didn’t you, Ma’am? You summoned the wind.”

  “Rufkin helped me to the window,” said the Queen. “He understood what was needed and made me do it.”

  The look Hodie gave Rufkin turned his insides to water. He’d never known what that really meant. It wasn’t pleasant.

  Delilah clenched her tiny fist. “But Your Majesty must not do any more for a while. We need a plan to send a message to the dragon-eagles.”

  “Oh—I’ve done that,” said Rufkin. “I hope. I told the bower birds. Two flew east. One went south as well to tell the King.”

  Hodie’s fist was a knot of muscle and bone. “Do you have proof?”

  “You’ve a nerve to talk about proof,” muttered Murgott.

  “No arguments,” said Lu’nedda. “Say thanks to boy.”

  Various grumbles happened, a few pats on Rufkin’s shoulder, that sort of thing. He could almost see his own face turn red from the inside.

  The Queen raised a hand. Very good gesture. Very well timed. “This is worse than the Council of Wisdom. We have three days. It’s mid-afternoon on day one. For goodness’ sake. I want a plan.”

  The silence quivered with shame. Interesting to see grown-ups quenched a bit.

  “I was already headed to the Eastern Isle and the dragon eagles,” continued the Queen. “I see two choices. Either keep going. Or follow Vosco.”

  All the grown-ups started to gabble.

  The Queen lifted her hand again and they shut up. “Murgott first. I’d like your opinion.”

  He looked horribly put on the spot. “Ma’am. I’d rather go last.”

  “For goodness’ sake,” the Queen said again. “Lu’nedda?”

  Lu’nedda drew herself up to her full height. “As Empress I would have chosen Eastern Isle. As mother of orphans, I choose follow the child.”

  “A military leader is forever alone in decisions of command,” Littlewink said. “The choice is terrible. But it should be the Eastern Isle. If there is a deep-dragon, you might save the entire country.”

  “Delilah O’Lilah?” the Queen asked. “You were head of the Workroom of Knowledge. Your opinion is important.”

  “Logic says, the Eastern Isle,” Delilah said.

  “Science says, the Eastern Isle,” said Swan.

  The troll with bandages on his face from the rifle that backfired. And all of the rest. All of them said, “The Eastern Isle.”

  “Hodie?” the Queen asked.

  For a moment Lord Hodie said nothing. Then, “For me there is no question. I would choose Vosco. But I must be logical. The Queen will be safer if we go east for the dragon-eagles. I have to choose east.”

  The Queen turned to Nissy.

  “Me?” asked Nissy. “Oh, of course I say Vosco. Also, of course, I’m going too. I want to see Madam Butterly done for.”

  “Neither of you two will be going,” said the Queen. “It’s far too dangerous. Rufkin?”

  Whatever he said would be right and wrong. Whatever the Queen decided would be right and wrong too. But for him there was only one answer.

  “Vosco,” he said.

  Murgott saluted. “And I say, Vosco.”

  Rufkin had kept count. Even if the Queen chose Vosco, it made only five. It was ten for the Eastern Isle.

  “If I may be so bold,” said Nissy, “and why wouldn’t I be, you’re going about this the wrong way.”

  The Queen looked entirely emptied of strength but her hair was still bouffy. Her smile had a glimmer.

  “Madam Butterly might be going to the Eastern Isle anyway,” continued Nissy. “You won’t know till you reach the sea.”

  The Queen’s smile widened. Rufkin reckoned she’d thought that all along.

  “So if I were you,” said Nissy, “I’d get a move on. Or you’ll be too slow to catch a glimpse of the Sea Honey no matter where she’s heading.”

  “Get a move on?” said Murgott. “Any clue about how?”

  “There are boats down at the wharf,” Nissy said. “I supposed they were yours.”

  Lu’nedda looked her empressy best but it wasn’t encouraging. “The launch is too small and also had new engine two years ago, so we cannot trust it. It would be heroic to vanquish Madam Butterly using our rowboats, but most unlikely. We have horses that Hodie and Calleena arrived on. We have donkey Tiger. We have three large-size tricycles and several bikes—oh, they might break down too.”

  “One’s broken already,” said Littlewink.

  “What about the wooden sailing ship?” asked Rufkin.

  Queen Sibilla
sat up. “Sailing ship?”

  Murgott shook his head hard. “Ma’am, you know we have the Golden Chalice here. But she’s far too old.”

  “Sibilla, you knew her when she was called Travelling Restaurant,” said Lu’nedda. “I never like how Fontanians spell ‘travelling’. In Um’Binnia we use only one l.”

  “Dear wife, however you spell it, the ship is a wreck.” Murgott covered his freckled bald head with his hands.

  “Golden Chalice is also very sentimental name,” Lu’nedda added. “We argue many times but he is determined.”

  Murgott’s fists came down and thumped the table. “She is the ship that helped save the baby Sibilla. She’s a ship of history and adventure. But the hull has as many leaks as there are stars in the sky.”

  “Will she last for three days?” asked the Queen.

  ~

  “Weapons of all sorts,” cried Murgott. “Combat gear.”

  “Ropes and maps,” said tiny Delilah.

  “Changes of underwear in large sizes?” asked ancient Littlewink.

  “Dried rations,” said the white-haired troll. “Bananas in those individual curved boxes that stop them bruising.”

  How many people should go with the Queen? Only five: Murgott, Lord Hodie, Littlewink, Swan, and Delilah. Lord Hodie looked very dark on it.

  The old people hurried off to storerooms and bottoms of wardrobes to gather the gear. Rufkin and Nissy were told to find the banana boxes. Rufkin was happy to help. This would be the last thing he did for the whole adventure.

  Back in the day room, two voices grew louder and louder.

  “If we’re not going east, you’re staying behind,” Hodie shouted.

  The Queen shouted back. “Till we catch sight of Madam Butterly we don’t know if she’s going east, west, or straight upwards. What are you going to do then? Chuck me overboard?”

  “And the boy and girl are staying here with you!” he roared.

  “I already said, they are staying behind!” cried the Queen.

  Rufkin felt sick with relief that he wasn’t allowed to go. But he noticed the jut of Nissy’s chin.

  Rufkin stood at the handle of a trundler again, this time at the steps of Adventurers’ Rest. Yes, this was the last thing he’d do. Then he’d really relax.