The bell sounded, the ball was flung into the centre once more and play resumed. Ethan nimbly cut in front of a Snow Wolf, heading off the smaller pony. He scooped the ball, wheeled around and Toffee was off, racing like the wind. Saxon cut off an opponent chasing him down. Another Snow Wolf swung in from the side. Ethan passed the ball to Wilf, who ducked around the milling confusion of horseflesh and cantered for the goal posts with Lily on his tail. A Snow Wolf rider cut in on Wilf so he passed the ball to Lily.
Lily deftly scooped the ball and galloped for the southern goal posts, straight for a Snow Wolf blocker. She swiftly swung the net around above her head a few times to build up momentum, then pitched it straight through the goal posts. A roar of approval went up from the crowd.
The Snow Wolves cursed and groaned, staring at Lily in disbelief. Ethan, Saxon, Roana and Wilf rode over, clapping Lily on the back and cheering in delight. All the players were concentrating keenly now. There was no more taunting or showing off from the Snow Wolves. Saxon saved another goal by deflecting the ball with his stick. Wilf nearly scored, but the ball smashed into the goal post, ricocheting off into the crowd.
With just a few minutes of play left, the Snow Wolves scored another goal, crashing the ball through the goals, taking them into the lead. The crowd cheered deafeningly, everyone excited about the tussle between mountain tribe and southerners. The scarlet ball was thrown into the centre one last time. A Snow Wolf scooped it up, nearly grazing the ground with his head. The pony wheeled and galloped off, long before his rider could regain the upright position. Roana and Saxon were right beside him, jostling and knocking. Roana jerked the ball out of the Snow Wolf’s net and scooped it up as it bounced away.
The sand in the hourglass trickled away, until there were only a few grains left. Roana passed the ball to Saxon as two ponies raced straight for her. Saxon saw a gap in the defence and raced for it, urging Caramel into a flat gallop down the outside. Ethan galloped down the other side to meet Saxon and defend him. A Snow Wolf beat him to it, barging into Caramel with a scream. Saxon sent the ball sailing over the Snow Wolf’s head, where Ethan caught it.
Still riding at a canter, Ethan swung the net above his head three times then pitched the ball straight for the goals. The ball sailed through just as the bell tolled for full time. Another goal scored by the southerners, making the game a tie. The cheers erupted as spectators ran onto the field, screaming and laughing. The horses stopped, sides panting and heaving, slick with sweat, with white foam frothing at their mouth. Their ears flicked back and forth as they snorted and pawed the ground. Lily and Ethan patted their horses’ necks, soothing them with their voices. Wilf cantered over and thumped them all on the back.
‘What a great game!’ Wilf exclaimed. ‘I didn’t hope for a tie. You all played superbly!’
The Snow Wolves rode over to offer their congratulations.
‘It’s rare to see young southerners who can ride like mountain tribes,’ growled one. ‘Most southerners do not have the mettle for mountain sports.’
The four children felt elated at their performance.
‘That was some of the best fun I’ve ever had,’ Ethan crowed. ‘Do you think we could introduce this game back home in Kenley?’
‘Why not?’ replied Saxon, grinning. ‘As long as you’re all on my team!’
The horses were walked up and down to cool off, then rubbed down and groomed, rugged up and fed armfuls of sweet dry hay in the yards.
That night there was much feasting, dancing, singing and laughing. Everyone was talking about the southerners tying with the Snow Wolves, and they received many accolades from the revelling mountain folk.
Dinner was large platters of roast pork, with strips of crunchy crackling and spicy apple sauce, with mounds of baked potatoes, pumpkin and cobs of corn. Wilf, Saxon, Roana, Lily and Ethan sat in a circle by the fire, sharing from a single platter, eating with their fingers. Aisha and Jonte lay beside them crunching on bones. The two dogs fell asleep, nose to nose, their paws entwined.
‘Look,’ giggled Roana. ‘Aisha and Jonte look like they’re holding paws.’ Aisha stirred at the sound of her name, her ear cocked and one eyebrow raised, but did not open her eyes.
‘At least her wound is recovering well with the extra rest,’ added Lily.
Leila came over to check on the children, bringing another helping of pork and apple sauce. ‘Lachlander, the Snow Wolf chief, wishes to see you all,’ Leila said. ‘I think he wishes to congratulate you on your stickball game today.’
Wilf looked perturbed. ‘The Snow Wolf chief is the head chief of the clan gathering this year. Each year, a different tribe holds the post. I wonder what he wants?’
‘Go along and you’ll soon find out,’ smiled Leila. ‘He won’t eat you.’
‘Given half a chance, I think he would,’ Wilf muttered.
The Snow Wolf chief was sitting around a separate bonfire with all the other chieftains, drinking ale and feasting.
‘Here they are,’ he boomed, chewing on a long rind of pork crackling. ‘The pesky southerners who shamed my young kinsmen.’ The other chieftains roared with laughter. ‘Well, you southerners certainly put on a good performance today, and you too, young Wilf. I am impressed by your bravery and skill. Not many youngsters, even among the mountain tribes, are skilled enough to ride in the stickball tournament.’
The children glowed with pride, murmuring their thanks.
The Snow Wolf chief stared at Roana quizzically.
‘The rumours I have heard are interesting,’ Lachlander continued. ‘I have heard that the black crows have imprisoned the young prince in the Tower of Snows, and that you four children are striving to rescue him. That you have travelled alone all the way from Tira, an epic journey in itself. I have heard rumours that make me think that you are not what you seem, and that you are, in fact, her royal highness Princess Roana, heir to the throne of Tiregian.’
A ripple of surprise echoed around the camp fire. Roana stiffened, then nodded gravely.
‘You are correct, sir, in everything you have surmised,’ Roana replied. ‘I am Princess Roana, and the Sedahs have imprisoned my brother, Prince Caspar, in the tower.’
‘Your father, the late king, would be very proud of you,’ Lachlander said. ‘I would like to offer you the help of the mountain tribes to rescue your brother. Wilf, tell us what you have planned already.’
The five children crowded closer, thrilled by the chief’s offer and eager to hear more.
Wilf briefly outlined his plans to take the four southerners up into the mountains on foot, behind the Tower of Snows, to spy on the Sedahs.
‘The five of us will climb up over the back of the mountain, from the east, wearing white hunting furs to camouflage us in the snow,’ Wilf explained. ‘The priests are more likely to be watching the track that comes from the west. We will watch the tower from behind, to see what we can learn about the black crow priests, and try to work out a way to get into the tower and help Roana’s brother escape.’ He glanced at Roana and she nodded, her face serious.
‘We will take two toboggans with us,’ Wilf continued. ‘So when we rescue him, we can escape quickly back down the mountain. It will take us more than a day to climb up to the tower, but we should hurtle down the mountain in no time.’
A murmur of interest rippled around the listening chieftains.
‘A good plan,’ agreed Lachlander. ‘A small group of you in white furs should be inconspicuous, and you have excellent snow craft, I have heard, Wilf. Have you thought about how to help them escape back to the south, to the green lands?’
‘We will have their horses ready here, and they can ride back south the way they came,’ Wilf answered.
‘We plan to hire a barge in Bryn, which can carry us swiftly down the river, past Trowbridge to just upriver from the Jigadee Falls,’ added Ethan.
The Snow Wolf chief nodded sagely, as he analysed the plan. ‘Good,’ he said, ‘but I think I have a better solution –
ice boats.’
‘Ice boats?’ asked Lily.
‘Some of my people will wait for you at the bottom of the mountain on the lake with ice boats,’ Lachlander explained, ‘Boats with a sharp bone keel designed to skate on ice, powered by sails. If the wind is fair you can fly down the lake over one hundred kilometres by ice boat, which should get you well away from the black crows and halfway to Bryn. We can send some of our best men to meet you at the end of the lake with your horses. Then the horses will be fresh and ready to carry you to the barges.’
‘That sounds wonderful,’ replied Ethan.
‘Wilf can guide you to the edge of the snow lands,’ Lachlander added. ‘Then you are on your own again.’
Everyone was quiet for a moment, hoping against hope that they would, in fact, make it to the bottom of the mountain, let alone back to Bryn.
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Roana. ‘We appreciate your help and concern. Anything you can do to help us on our quest would be gratefully appreciated.’
‘My weather seer says that tomorrow would be an auspicious day for your journey up the mountain,’ Lachlander continued. ‘My men will set off, leading your horses and supplies to Lightning Crevasse, where you will meet them in the next few days. Another group will take the ice boats to the bottom of the mountain below the Tower of Snows. Both groups will wait for you for three days. If you have not come then, we will send a search party for you.’
There was not much else to discuss, so they bowed to all the chieftains and set off to Wilf’s dome to talk, plan and sleep. Leila stayed up late preparing clothes, rugs and food. In the morning she kitted them out with white camouflage furs, snow shoes, warm fur gloves, packs of food and rugs. Each child was given a tightly fitting woollen cap of bright red and blue to wear under their white hoods.
‘The mountain tribe folk wear white furs for hunting expeditions, when we want to move invisibly through the snows,’ Wilf explained. ‘At other times, we wear brightly coloured garments so we are easy to find in the snow if we get lost or fall into a crevasse.’
Wilf found white leather socks for the two dogs to protect their paws from the cold and give them more traction in the snow. Then he dressed the dogs in white jackets that tied around their necks and bellies. Aisha shook herself in disgust, unaccustomed to the strange sensation of wearing clothes.
‘Jonte always wears these when we go on long expeditions,’ Wilf said. ‘They will be a bit big for Aisha, but I’ll lace them up tightly.’
The children packed their own belongings into the saddle bags and prepared the horses for their journey south. Charcoal was disgusted to be packed up in her wicker basket and strapped onto Mischief’s back for the journey south. Even Lily agreed that it was best to leave Charcoal behind – the mountain was no place for a black and white cat.
In the empty taproom of the White Horse Inn, Cookie, Albert and Fox were having a hurried conversation. Mia sat on the table, meticulously eating slices of dried golden pear with her wrinkled fingers.
‘The Sedah priests have arrived from the north,’ Cookie whispered. ‘Lord Lazlac has given orders for the final preparations for the wedding and coronation ceremonies, and I am flat out preparing the feast. He wants twenty different courses!’
Albert drummed his fingers on the table.
‘We can’t wait any longer,’ Albert exclaimed. ‘We must start bringing the rebels closer to Tira. My sources tell me that the rebels are training quite well now, although they are short of weapons. Most of them are farmers and fisherfolk who have never held a sword or a bow in their lives. They are probably no match for the experienced Sedah soldiers, but if we have surprise on our side …’
‘The queen is adamant that she does not want a rebel attack while the Sedahs hold Prince Caspar,’ Cookie argued. ‘She told me to remind you that you and all the rebel forces are still under her command, and she orders you to obey her.’
Fox shrugged impatiently. He was not used to taking orders from anyone else. Mia gibbered and chatted her contribution, waving her sticky brown paws.
‘While the queen orders us not to attack, there is no harm in preparing for it,’ Fox retorted, stroking Mia’s head. ‘If, by some miracle, the children find Prince Caspar and bring him back to Tira, we must be ready.’
Albert nodded. ‘Perhaps it would be best, Fox, if you went to the rebel camp and supervised the final training,’ he suggested. ‘I know of no better person to advise them on fighting and stealth strategies.’
Fox laughed in acknowledgement. As a smuggler he was an excellent swordsman and archer, as well as an expert in travelling secretly.
‘Happily,’ Fox agreed. ‘I’m growing tired of plotting and planning with you, Albert. It’d be good to have a sword in my hand once more.’
‘We can bring the rebel forces to the forests closer to Tira, just in case,’ Albert decided, ignoring Fox’s jibe. ‘I will brief my spy network so everything is ready. Cookie – you must reassure the queen we are doing all we can, but that we will not attack while Prince Caspar is in danger.’
Cookie nodded, her round face crinkled with worry.
‘Let’s get moving, then,’ suggested Fox, scooping Mia up onto his shoulder and buckling on his sword.
Cookie and Albert rose too, their minds whirring with plans and lists of things to do. The forced royal wedding was looming perilously close.
When the laden horses had been led away, the five children donned their snow shoes and set off to trek up into the mountains, guided by Wilf and Jonte. The ascent was long, steep and tiring. Even with the snow shoes, they slipped and skidded and slid, falling frequently.
At first, they enjoyed the ascent, watching the landscape, the birds, the tiny animals venturing out into the icy white world. Deep footprints in the snow gave them clues to the creatures living in the snow lands – tiny claw marks, gentle scuffs, and large dangerous-looking pawprints of wolves.
As the morning wore on, tiredness set in and the muscles began to flag. In the middle of the day – when they were only halfway up the mountain – the sun softened the snow, making it even harder to climb. They each took it in turn to drag the two toboggans, the sleds leaving deep tracks in the snow.
‘Let’s hope our friend Sniffer isn’t following us,’ Ethan joked. ‘He’d have no trouble following our trail.’
‘Don’t,’ shivered Lily, glancing back over her shoulder at the deep tracks behind them. ‘Let’s hope Sniffer is far behind us.’
Slowly, gradually, the ascent began to be a trial of muscles, willpower, breath and exhaustion. Progress was made in millimetres. Wilf alone was used to climbing in the snow. He cajoled them forward with merry tales, songs and words of encouragement. Rest breaks were required more and more frequently.
Aisha and Jonte struggled in the snow with no snow shoes. Their thin, wiry legs sank deep in the snow, tiring them with the effort of climbing higher up the steep slope. Wilf began to worry about the many dangers of the mountain – snow trolls, avalanches, crevasses, snow giants, and the black crows who awaited them at the tower.
As the children clambered along a narrow game track, Roana slipped and slid off the track on her side, her body hurtling down the steep slope at startling speed. Roana screamed loudly, then fell over the lip of a cliff three metres below, down and out of sight. The scream was cut horribly, frighteningly short.
‘Roana,’ screamed Lily. ‘Roana.’
The silence was eerie.
‘Roana,’ yelled Ethan. ‘Are you all right?’
There was no reply. Aisha barked a warning out over the valley. It echoed into the silence. Wilf pulled out a rope from his toboggan and unwound it. He tied one end of the rope to a gnarled dead tree root protruding from the bank, and the other to his waist. Saxon went to help him, double testing the knots.
‘I’ll climb down to the top of the cliff to see what I can see,’ Wilf stated calmly.
‘Roana,’ shouted Lily, her heart plummeting to the valley floor. ‘Where are you?�
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A faint groan sounded from below the cliff top.
‘I heard her,’ cried Ethan, scrambling to the edge.
Together Ethan, Saxon and Lily lowered Wilf down over the cliff edge.
‘I see her,’ Wilf called back. ‘She is only a few metres below me, caught on a branch buried in snow. Roana, can you hear me?’
‘I am all right,’ she muttered, clinging desperately to her slender life-saver. Below her the sheer cliff dropped over thirty metres, a certain death.
Wilf was slowly lowered down to the tree branch on the rope. Here he gingerly wedged himself on the stronger tree trunk so he did not snap the delicate-looking branch with his weight. He untied the rope from his own waist and knotted it around Roana’s. Now they could both give a sigh of relief.
‘Heave her up,’ yelled Wilf to the others up on the path. Slowly and carefully Roana was hauled up the cliff face, over the lip, up the slope and back onto the path, where she collapsed heavily on the ground. There was no time to check Roana. The rope was untied and slithered back down the cliff to Wilf, still perched precariously in the tree. In a few moments he was dragged back up the cliff, and they were all safe once more on the path, scared and shaken.
After that Wilf made sure all the children were securely tied together with a long rope. He even tied Aisha and Jonte’s collars on separate ropes, knotted to the main rope.
The sun began to set in a blaze of golds, pinks and violets, firing the snow with colour.
‘We should make a camp for the night,’ Wilf instructed. ‘I had hoped to reach the summit by dusk, but we were slower than I anticipated. We will just have to camp here below this ridge, which might give us a little protection.’
Wilf directed operations, sending the girls to collect firewood, still tied together with ropes around their waists, while the boys set up the round white felt dome that Wilf had brought on the toboggan. It was securely fastened with long iron pegs that reached down through the snow to the hard earth below. An overlapping flap protected the entrance to the tent.
The Snowy Tower Page 12
