The Snowy Tower

by Belinda Murrell

  At last George was satisfied. The Sun Sword gleamed in the firelight, the Sun Gem ruby glowing like a blood-red heart. On the reverse side the Moon Pearl glinted with a luminous shimmer, surrounded by twinkling Star Diamonds.

  Roana picked it up reverently. ‘Thank you, George,’ she breathed. A jolt of power surged through her body, filling her with courage, assurance, love and hope. Roana buckled on a belt and sheathed the sword in a plain leather scabbard she had borrowed from one of the rebels.

  ‘Let us go now and free my mother, Queen Ashana,’ said Roana with calm authority. ‘The Sedahs have had their way for far too long in our land.’

  Roana led the way, followed by Ethan, Lily, Saxon, Caspar, Fox and George. The rebels followed Roana without question. They marched back down, past the moving walls of cockroaches, down the twisting steps along the passageway to where the tunnel forked.

  Here they took the left-hand tunnel, which meandered downhill. After a few minutes the tunnel started to climb steeply, then turned to slippery steps. They climbed eagerly, knowing they were now only minutes from the end of their journey.

  At last they came to the shallow arched niche on the right-hand side of the tunnel. Above the arch was a carved depiction of a sun, with rays flaming around it.

  Without hesitation, Roana pushed the rounded sphere of the sun in the centre. The depressed sphere operated a lever, which released the back of the archway with a shuddering, grinding noise. The door slid aside to reveal a secret opening, leading directly into the storerooms below the palace. Roana held a finger to her lips to indicate total silence. The signal was passed back along the line of men. One by one they stepped through the opening and climbed into the dusty storeroom.

  The palace’s reception hall was packed with Sedah soldiers, all dressed in their black dress uniforms, and a handful of Tiregian ladies dressed in silk gowns. Heavily armed guards stood about the hall, in case of any trouble from the conquered Tiregians. At one end stood the seven Sedah priests, waiting in their long black gowns. To the side was a small table with two crowns placed on it. One crown was large and gold and ornate, studded with jewels. The other crown was small and silver and quite modest.

  A group of trumpets played a stirring fanfare. When the music stopped the two huge doors at the opposite end were flung open by uniformed page boys. A procession of page boys in pairs walked down the central corridor between the onlookers. The trumpets burst forth once more. Governor Lazlac strode into the hall, his waxy face burning with zealous satisfaction. He nodded to left and right as he marched up the corridor, to the cheers of the Sedah soldiers.

  A few metres behind him floated a tall, regal figure completely draped in crimson. A young handmaiden led before her, as it was impossible for the queen to see more than a few steps in front of her, through the gauzy veil. Many of the Tiregian ladies were openly weeping as their queen was led through the crowd to her fate. The rear of the procession was more page boys, all dressed in the severe black of the Sedah livery.

  Queen Ashana, as directed, stopped in front of the Sedah priests, at Lord Lazlac’s side.

  The Head Priest stepped forward.

  ‘Do you, Governor Lazlac, come before me to wed this woman, Ashana, in the name of Krad?’ the priest intoned in a heavy, ceremonial voice.

  ‘In the name of Krad, I, Governor Lazlac, wish to marry this woman, Ashana,’ agreed Lord Lazlac.

  The priest stepped forward and flung back the veil that hid the queen’s face. Queen Ashana looked at the priest steadily, her face proud and calm. The sound of loud sobs could be heard from the audience behind them.

  ‘Is this the said woman Ashana?’ asked the Head Priest. Lord Lazlac looked possessively at Queen Ashana, his face grimacing in his parody of a smile. The queen returned his scrutiny, but her face was cold and impassive.

  ‘It is she,’ Lord Lazlac crowed.

  ‘Then I bind this woman, Ashana, to you in marriage, in the name of Krad and his fearful Emperor Raef,’ the priest continued. Apparently it was not Sedah tradition to ask the bride if she wished to be married to the groom. The priest took a long crimson ribbon and bound it tightly around Queen Ashana’s wrist, then bound her right wrist to Lord Lazlac’s left wrist to symbolise the binding of the marriage.

  ‘Be it so,’ the Head Priest intoned. The Sedah’s cheering and wolf whistles drowned out the sound of sobbing.

  ‘In the name of his most fearful majesty Emperor Raef, I take this opportunity to crown you as the new king of Tiregian,’ the priest continued when the exuberant cheering had died down. He lifted the large ornate crown and placed it firmly on the groom’s head. ‘Henceforth, you shall be known as His Royal Highness King Lazlac of Tiregian, in the dominion of Sedah and the Nine Isles.’

  The cheering rose to even higher levels. The priest turned to the bride and placed the silver crown on her head.

  ‘I hereby take this opportunity to crown you Queen Ashana, the new queen of Tiregian, in the dominion of Sedah and the Nine Isles.’

  The queen swallowed. King Lazlac turned to his new bride and swept a low, flourishing bow. ‘My queen, shall we attend our wedding feast?’

  Queen Ashana nodded and was led back down through the cheering black crowds, still bound to King Lazlac by the crimson ribbon. Sedah tradition was to keep the bride and groom bound together until the clock struck midnight, to symbolise their new marriage. The wedding party retired to the Great Hall and sat at the long bridal table. The cheerful guests followed and took their places at the other long tables.

  Many guests came to offer their congratulations to the newly married couple, with much back-slapping, toasts of cherry wine and well-worn jokes. King Lazlac grimaced happily. His plan had succeeded – he was now King of Tiregian, and lord of all he surveyed, including the very beautiful Queen Ashana. He tugged playfully on the crimson ribbon that bound her to his wrist.

  Queen Ashana bit her lip, staring down at the gold cutlery on the table. She was queen once more, but there was little joy in that.

  Down in the guardroom in the dungeons, a group of seven Sedah guards grumpily played cards. They were disappointed to be missing out on the feast in the palace above, and they were naturally slightly mollified when four pretty maid servants came from the kitchens carrying a barrel of cherry wine.

  ‘King Lazlac sends his compliments and said to tell you to drink up to celebrate his wedding and coronation,’ Jess announced with a simpering smile and a flutter of eyelashes.

  The seven guards complied happily, smashing their mugs together in a toast.

  ‘To King Lazlac and his beautiful new bride. Krad be praised.’

  They drained the mugs in one gulp and filled them up again before the maid servants had even left the room.

  Similar barrels were also being delivered to the Sedah sentries on the three city gates and to the soldiers on the palace gates. Today was a happy day for Sedah and for the new king. It was a day for celebrations.

  In the Great Hall vast quantities of cherry wine and ale had already been consumed.

  No-one noticed that the cherry wine tasted slightly different this evening, or that the ale was having a very rapid effect on the revellers.

  Servants now scurried about serving huge steaming tureens of spicy wild mushroom soup. It was served with lashings of cream and wedges of lemon.

  ‘Try the soup, my sweet,’ suggested King Lazlac to Queen Ashana.

  ‘Thank you, my lord,’ Queen Ashana replied with a forced smile. ‘But I am saving my appetite for the roast duck, which is simply superb.’

  ‘No, no,’ King Lazlac cried. ‘I insist. Serve the queen some soup.’

  A servant immediately obeyed, placing a bowl of creamy grey soup in front of Queen Ashana.

  ‘Thank you kindly,’ she replied, obediently lifting the spoon to her lips. ‘Mmmm, quite delicious, although very spicy.’

  King Lazlac nodded his satisfaction and returned to speaking to his advisors on his right-hand side. He did not notice tha
t Queen Ashana did not actually taste the soup, simply playing with the spoon and occasionally lifting it to her lips.

  Marnie was seated at one of the lower tables with a number of ladies-in-waiting and Sedah officers, but she occasionally wandered over to the bridal table to check on the queen and give her courage. Both of them felt sick with nerves. Would this evening never end?

  Jess crept down into the guardroom, carrying a large bundle in one arm and a jug of warm water in the other. There she found seven sentries collapsed on the floor, snoring happily. She nodded to herself, put the jug and bundle down on the table and immediately hurried down towards the storerooms on the southern side of the underground complex.

  She whistled a merry tune as she ran down the passageway. Fox heard the prearranged signal and popped his head out of the storeroom, where they were all waiting. Mia waved cheekily from his shoulder and blew Jess a kiss.

  ‘The marriage and coronation are finished and the feast has begun,’ Jess explained quickly. There was a sharp intake of breath from Roana, as she realised that her mother was now married to the despicable Lord Lazlac. ‘The guards are unconscious so we can release the prisoners from the dungeons,’ Jess continued. ‘Come this way.’

  Fox and the rebels, disguised in Sedah uniforms, followed Jess back down the corridor to the central guardroom. The unconscious Sedah guards were relieved of their keys, their weapons and their uniforms. Fox changed into one of the black Sedah uniforms, fastening the armour tightly.

  Roana looked longingly at the steps leading up to the palace.

  ‘First things first, Roana,’ Fox reminded her, buckling on a helmet. ‘These prisoners have been locked up for many weeks. We must set them free.’

  The keys were divvied out by Fox, and then everyone helped to unlock the cells and warn the prisoners to be quiet.

  Aisha picked up a scent she recognised and ran to sniff at the bottom of a cell door. Ethan and Lily ran to investigate, their hearts pounding with anticipation. They unlocked the door to discover a number of prisoners, including Willem, who was sitting in the corner completely shocked to find his prison door opened by his two children.

  Willem was bruised and puffy around the face, but he was strong and fit from his work on the temple, and tanned a deep brown by the sun.

  ‘Dadda,’ cried Lily running across the cell to throw her arms around him. Aisha bounded over to lick him on the face. Willem still could not speak.

  ‘Are you all right, Dadda?’ begged Ethan in concern, searching his father’s face with one arm flung around his shoulder. He was terrified that the incarceration in the dungeons had taken its toll on his father’s wits.

  Willem shook himself vigorously, then squeezed both children in a gigantic bear hug.

  ‘You are real,’ Willem breathed. ‘Thank the Sun Lord. I thought I’d finally gone mad and was just imagining you here.’ He reached over and tickled Aisha, who rolled on her back, exposing her white belly for a rub, her tail thumping the stone floor with glee.

  ‘Come on,’ called Fox from the doorway. ‘No time for family reunions. We have a battle to fight.’

  Everyone jumped up and followed Fox out into the milling crowd. Roana and Saxon were tying a band of crimson ribbon onto the left arms of each of the rebels dressed in Sedah uniform.

  ‘This is how you will know who is a real Sedah soldier and who is a disguised Tiregian rebel,’ Saxon explained to the soldiers.

  The real Sedah sentries were locked together in a cell in their underwear to sleep off the drugged cherry wine. Then all the prisoners were kitted out with weapons from the armoury. Willem was dressed in a Sedah uniform and helped himself to a fine bow and a quiver full of arrows. He strung the bow and carefully tested the draw weight. He felt a thrill of excitement surge through him to be holding a bow in his hands once more.

  ‘All the released prisoners should stay here hiding in the outer corridor,’ Fox ordered. ‘We will leave six of our men here disguised as Sedah soldiers, in case anyone comes down to check. The rest will come with me, including the children. Jess, where are those servant clothes?’

  Jess opened the bundle she had been carrying, to reveal three black page boy outfits, two maid servant gowns and some clean rags.

  ‘Looks like it might be time for you to become a girl again, Roana?’ grinned Lily.

  ‘Cookie’s been trying to get me back in a dress for ages,’ agreed Roana, laughing, holding the dark skirts against her legs. ‘Actually I can’t wait to get out of these stinking clothes. I can still smell the garbage pit all around me.’

  The children hurriedly washed their hands and faces with the warm water and cloths Jess had brought down, and then changed into the clothes.

  Soon Ethan, Saxon and Caspar were wearing black shirts, jackets and breeches, with small tricorn hats. Lily and Roana were wearing dark blue dresses with full skirts, white petticoats, white aprons and white mob caps. Roana buckled the leather belt and leather scabbard, holding the Sun Sword around her narrow waist. She pinned the skirt around the scabbard to hide it.

  ‘Is that you, Roana? I’m so used to seeing you look like a boy that I can hardly recognise you,’ Lily laughed. ‘Your hair has grown quite a bit over the last few weeks, and it’s almost back to its old colour. It suits you.’

  ‘Welcome back, your highness,’ teased Ethan. ‘You are definitely moving up in the world.’

  When everyone was ready they gathered in the guardroom – Fox, Willem, George, Ethan, Lily, Saxon, Roana, Caspar and the rebels disguised as Sedah soldiers.

  ‘Now remember your cover stories if we are stopped and questioned,’ Fox reminded them. ‘Let’s go and let Albert and the other rebels in at the palace gates.’

  Cautiously and quietly they climbed up the circular steps that led into the bottom of the southwest tower. The great courtyard was bathed in silver moonlight. The nearly full moon was rising in the sky, illuminating the white towers of Tira in a silvery glow.

  The group slid through the shadows with Aisha at their heels. At the palace gates they found a group of sentries fast asleep. The guards were quickly stripped, bound with rope and locked in the guardhouse. Fox unlocked the gate and hooted loudly like his ship’s namesake. The owl cry was repeated twice. An answering hoot came from the other side of the park. A few minutes later Albert Drummond appeared with a force of two hundred armed rebels, who crept quietly into the palace.

  Sniffer woke suddenly from his nightmare, drenched in sweat. The cheeky faces of four Tiregian children and that dog hovered in his mind. In his dream, the children were together on a toboggan, with the dog and the cat, hurtling straight down the mountain of snow, laughing back at him. The scent of them wafted back to him tauntingly. He was on a toboggan only metres behind them, but no matter how fast he chased them, they were always tantalisingly just out of reach.

  He rubbed his eyes, longing for a deep, long sleep. His leg throbbed and his head ached. But those children would not leave him alone, even in his dreams. A deep feeling of foreboding coursed through his body. He must warn Governor Lazlac, even if it was his wedding night. Reluctantly Sniffer climbed out of his bunk, pulled on his boots and hobbled across the central courtyard.

  No-one challenged him as he passed. The palace seemed deserted, with nearly everyone congregated in the Great Hall for the feast. Sniffer walked faster. The children are here, he thought, hope racing through his blood. I know they are somewhere very near.

  In the Great Hall, King Lazlac was not feeling his best. His head ached and he felt slightly nauseous. A strong cramp clenched his stomach. He glanced around the hall and realised that quite a few of his colleagues were looking a trifle pale. A number had stumbled off to the latrines, gripped with stomach cramps and nausea. Most of them did not come back. A dreadful smell wafted through the hall. King Lazlac felt an overpowering urge to visit the latrines himself, but he was firmly bound with crimson ribbon to his new queen.

  King Lazlac suddenly felt bile rise in his throat and he
started to vomit, covering himself in regurgitated wild toadstool soup and minced Adder’s Tongue. His gorgeous red velvet wedding clothes were soiled, his satin slippers splattered and his ornate crown dislodged. Queen Ashana glared at him in disgust, holding herself as far from her new consort as possible.

  King Lazlac tried to rise but his head was muzzy and his vision blurred.

  The herbs that Cookie had chopped into the soup included poisonous wild toadstools, not enough to kill but enough to make the consumer hallucinate, and Adder’s Tongue – a strong emetic and cathartic herb that induces vomiting and diarrhoea. Another powerful stomach spasm bent the new king almost double.

  It was for this reason that he did not notice a number of soldiers dressed in Sedah uniforms who slipped into the Great Hall, each one with a crimson ribbon tied around his left arm. The new soldiers solicitously helped some of the incapacitated revellers away to recover. It was only later the revellers discovered they had been relieved of their weapons and locked inside the antechamber.

  Sniffer slipped into the Great Hall. Something was not quite right. He smelled the pervading odour of vomit and latrines with a slight underlay of fear. His delicate nostrils caught another whiff, a very familiar cocktail of children and dog and a faint hint of lavender. Sniffer started to run towards the new king on his magnificent throne.

  ‘Governor Lazlac,’ Sniffer shouted. ‘I must warn you.’

  When King Lazlac lifted his head at the shout, he realised a group of young servants and black-clad soldiers had gathered behind him. He raised his face imperiously.

  ‘Clean up this mess at once,’ King Lazlac ordered, a trifle shakily. Queen Ashana stared at him with huge eyes, her gaze darting to the crazed, stooped figure who was running towards them, then back to the servants behind her.

  ‘My pleasure,’ answered one of the servant girls, who had scandalously short hair. From somewhere she lifted a massive sword, flashing with reflected light, which she swung down menacingly. King Lazlac yelped in dismay. He stared at the sword. It looked terrifyingly, horrifyingly familiar. His heart nearly stopped beating in shock. This was impossible. He must be hallucinating.