Voyage of the Owl

by Belinda Murrell

  He looked at Aisha. ‘Hmm, one left to disguise. Ethan, rub some dirt into Aisha’s coat – she looks a little too well cared for. She can ride on the back of the cart with me. It is better she is not seen with any of you. I’d better take that cat too.’

  Aisha objected to having dirt rubbed into her beautiful coat. Her black-tipped ears cocked quizzically and her eyes stared reproachfully at Ethan as he rubbed dirt along her nose and into the white star on her chest.

  She looked even more aghast when she was tied onto the back of the cart with a frayed piece of old rope. Charcoal was reluctantly tucked away into a sack at Master Drummond’s feet.

  At last Master Drummond was satisfied with everyone’s appearance and with their rehearsed speeches about the planned chores outside the city walls. The children were made to practise over and over again, as Master Drummond pretended to quiz them about their origins, their intentions and their occupations.

  Master Drummond climbed up onto the seat of the cart, behind the huge grey draughthorse that pulled it. ‘Giddup, Judy,’ he said, clicking to the horse.

  ‘See you all at the port in two hours,’ he whispered over his shoulder.

  The cart laden with barrels pulled slowly out of the courtyard, the massive horse straining with the weight. The four disguised children followed after him, slipping inconspicuously into the river of humanity that made up the streets of Tira. The last they saw of the cart was the forlorn face of Aisha, whining piteously, disappearing into the crowds.

  The streets of Tira were busy with city folk bustling about their afternoon routines. Grubby children ran and played, ducking beneath horses’ hooves and cartwheels. Housewives walked home with brimming shopping baskets. Fishmongers plied their trade, selling the last of the day’s produce.

  Black and white cows were herded from the marketplace by a ragged young boy, leaving steaming piles of dung in their wake. Mangy dogs snuffled among the scraps in the gutters. An old woman wandered the streets with a basket of crusty, hot pastries, yelling, ‘Meat pies, get your meat pies.’

  The streets were narrow and cobbled, with buildings overhanging on either side. Washing was strung between the windows above the street.

  Saxon ducked and swore as he dodged a yellow, malodorous waterfall being poured from a second-storey window into the street below. He looked up. A servant had emptied a brimming chamberpot out the window.

  ‘Oi,’ yelled Saxon, annoyed. ‘Watch where you’re throwing that! You nearly soaked me!’

  ‘Skip it, squirt,’ yelled back the servant, laughing in a raucous voice. ‘Be grateful the pot just held the night water and not the master’s night soil! Anyways, you look like a wash wouldn’t hurt ya.’

  ‘She can talk!’ muttered Saxon, stalking around the yellow puddle. ‘These city folk are disgraceful.’

  Roana looked scandalised, wrinkling her nose in distaste. ‘You mean these people just throw their waste out into the street?’ she exclaimed. ‘That is absolutely appalling behaviour!’

  ‘Why do you think that true gentlemen like Saxon and myself always walk on the outside of fair ladies like yourself and Lily?’ Ethan chuckled. ‘It is so that we get covered in the chamberpot contents and your most esteemed royal highness stays clean!’

  Lily and Roana giggled. The children flitted through the streets almost invisibly. No-one noticed their passing.

  As they came closer to the western city gate, all pedestrians were pushed to the side of the road by the passing of a convoy of Sedah guards, protecting an overladen cart. The soldiers threatened anyone who did not move quickly enough or who looked too closely at the cart. An old woman stumbled and fell, and would have been crushed by the wheels if a passerby had not hauled her to safety.

  ‘Those look very much like the crates that were stored in the Great Treasure Chamber,’ Ethan whispered to Lily.

  A guard glared at him, and he quickly averted his eyes from the cart that seemed to be bearing away the treasure of Tiregian. Ethan wondered if the Moon Pearl and Star Diamonds might even be on board that cart.

  He felt a shiver of apprehension ripple up his back. Ethan clutched his chimney brushes more tightly, wondering if they would be much use if it came to a fight at the city gates.

  Saxon was the first one to reach the massive, iron-barred western gate. A group of seven Sedah guards stood at the open gate examining every person and vehicle that passed.

  The guards searched underneath carts and carriages. They emptied sacks and parcels, leaving the hapless owners to retrieve their belongings from the gutter. They questioned travellers of all sexes, ages and walks of life.

  Saxon swaggered up to the gateway, pretending a bravado he did not feel. He was told to turn out his pockets himself, the Sedahs obviously repulsed by the blood and gore on his person. It was clear that he carried nothing out of the ordinary, and he was quickly sent on his way.

  Saxon heaved a secret sigh of relief as he hurried across the arched sandstone bridge, high above the rushing water of the River Bryn. To his right was the distant mist of the Jigadee Falls, steaming high into the air in a rainbow haze. To his left were rolling green meadows, fading into the far away blue of the sea. Saxon was oblivious to the beauty of the landscape, the apparent peace of the afternoon.

  The road continued south-west towards the port, six kilometres from the city walls. Saxon set off, walking quickly, his smelly fish pannier over his arm, resisting the urge to stare back anxiously at his friends waiting to cross the bridge.

  Roana waited ten minutes, then joined the queue of farmers, fisherfolk, foresters and villagers waiting to return to their homes outside the city gates. She felt the bag of money burning against her chest and the weight of the Sun Gem striking her calf as she walked.

  She thought her true identity, her true sex, the hidden wealth she carried must be clear to all who saw her. She mumbled and murmured her way through the interrogation, certain her accent would give her away. She blushed violently as the guard rolled his eyes at her responses.

  ‘On your way,’ snarled the guard, waving her on. Roana nearly slipped in her anxiety to be gone.

  ‘Halfwit,’ growled the guard loudly to his colleague, twirling his finger at his temple. ‘This is a country of idiots.’

  Roana did not turn around but hurried over the pale golden bridge, cradling her empty sack to her chest, hardly daring to breathe. It took all of her will to walk steadily and casually away down the road, and not to drop her sack and run with all speed after Saxon.

  Lily was next. She hurried towards the gate, her skirts sweeping the mud of the cobble stones. A curious guard stopped her with a stroke to her cheek. Lily stumbled in shock, nearly dropping her wicker basket.

  ‘So where are you off to in such a hurry, pretty maid?’ he flirted. ‘Cat got your tongue?’

  ‘No, sire,’ Lily replied. ‘My mistress sent me to fetch her some willow bark and feverfew from the meadows by the river. She’s a terrible fever and dreadful sores, we hope tisn’t the Black Pox. She’s awful sick.’

  The guard stepped back three paces, looking pale.

  ‘Well, on your way then, wench, and be quick about it,’ he ordered, turning to question a young boy behind her.

  Lily was halfway across the bridge, her heart bursting, when a shout went up from the guards behind her. Lily started to walk faster, steadfastly refusing to turn around.

  ‘Hey you, girl, come back,’ yelled one of the guards. ‘Come back!’

  Lily walked faster. She heard the sound of running footsteps behind her and panicked, her breath rasping in her throat. Should she run? Should she protest her innocence? What would the Sedah guards do to her when they caught her?

  Ethan surged forward, firmly clutching his ridiculous chimney brush. He took a deep breath, ready to rush into battle to help Lily. He knew it was hopeless. They would both be easily overcome by the heavily armed Sedah guards.

  ‘Hey, miss, you dropped your shears,’ murmured the young guard who had stroked
her cheek. ‘Your mistress would be mighty angry with you if you went home without them.’ He passed the shears over hurriedly, still nervous of the risk of contagion.

  Lily wanly smiled her thanks and hurried on over the bridge, her stomach doing backflips. Ethan skulked back into the queue. He was vastly relieved to see Lily finally hurrying onto the road on the other side of the bridge. At last it was his turn. Ethan marched up to the guards.

  ‘Luvly afternoon, ain’t it?’ Ethan grinned, waving his broom jauntily in the air.

  The Sedah guard glared at him.

  ‘What’s your business?’ asked the guard in a bored tone.

  ‘Blocked chimbley,’ Ethan replied cheerily. ‘Awful nuisance but the innkeeper wants it fixed before tonight’s trade. Expecting a busy night, ’e is. ’Ope I gets it fixed before nightfall or me boss’ll tan me ’ide.’

  The Sedah guard glared at Ethan’s grubby face and filthy hands.

  ‘All right. All right,’ the guard muttered wearily. ‘Enough of your chatter. Pass on.’

  Ethan virtually skipped across the bridge. They had done it! All of them were safely across the bridge and out of the city. Now to the port of Tira to see if they could discover the whereabouts of the Sea Dragon.

  The road from Tira headed west, through flat green-gold meadows and fields, lined with gently swaying red poppies and blue cornflowers, before heading south towards the ocean and the main port. The meadows were empty, with the grass growing tall and unkempt, as the local animals had been seized by the Sedahs.

  Ethan soon caught up to Lily and they walked together. A few minutes later they came up to Roana, and they all walked companionably, relishing the warm sunshine and the exercise after a day cooped up inside.

  They smelled Saxon before they saw him. The fish blood on his clothes had ripened to a strong stench in the late afternoon sun.

  ‘Pooey,’ joked Ethan, waving his charcoaled hand under his nose. ‘What lovely perfume you’re wearing, Sax!’

  ‘I cannot believe what putrid travelling companions I have chosen,’ Roana complained with a wide grin. ‘If it is not horse manure, it is garbage or rotting fish. Give me Lily’s lavender water any day!’

  ‘Well, it worked,’ Saxon retorted. ‘Those Sedah guards couldn’t wait to get rid of me!’

  ‘You should have seen their faces when I told them my mistress might have the Black Pox!’ Lily crowed in delight.

  ‘They thought I was a blithering idiot,’ added Roana ruefully. ‘I could not get two words out without stammering.’

  ‘Well, who’s the idiot now?’ smiled Ethan. ‘Those guards let the most wanted fugitive in the country just waltz out of the city under their noses, carrying the treasured Sun Gem hidden in the hem of her cloak!’

  The four children grinned at each other in relief and happiness and pride. They were one small step further along their journey.

  ‘I must say that I thought it was all over when that guard called me back to give me the shears,’ Lily giggled. ‘I thought my heart was going to stop beating altogether!’

  ‘I thought I was going to have to rush out to save my little sis by fighting off the whole Sedah army with a chimney brush!’ Ethan joked. ‘Maybe they would have sneezed to death choking on my soot!’

  Everyone laughed in delight as they walked down the hill towards the outskirts of the port village. Yet the feeling of levity did not last long. At the right of the road was a copse of trees, blackened and burnt. The remaining leaves were shrivelled brown, as though it were late autumn, not midspring, and the ground was coated in a thick mantle of black ash. Nestled in the shelter of the copse were the remains of a small farmhouse, now an untidy tumble of charred timber and fallen stones.

  Their sense of disquiet grew once they entered the port village, which seemed strangely silent after the bustle of Tira. There was no-one about.

  Small stone cottages nestled down the steep cobbled street towards the harbour wall. Every second building seemed to be an inn, with names like the Blue Dolphin, the Seamen’s Rest, the Smuggler’s Haven and the Good Ship Inn. There were chandlery shops, sailmakers and carpenters’ workshops, but most of these were shuttered and locked. A curtain twitched from an upstairs window as they passed.

  The children huddled close together and walked quickly and quietly towards the harbour wall.

  ‘And there is our next challenge!’ Saxon whispered, pointing out into the harbour.

  The scene below in the port was a stark contrast to the deserted village behind, with crowds of bustling people working on the busy quays. Ships and boats of all sizes were moored in the shelter of the stone breakwalls.

  Dominating the port were five black tri-masted ships, their massive yellow sails furled and black cannon primed. Long, thin vermilion flags fluttered from the masts, and from each stern flew the red, black and grey banner of Emperor Raef – two cutlasses crossed with a red eye glowing above. The tip of each cutlass dripped with teardrops of bright blood.

  Forlorn and neglected, three crimson Tiregian ships floated nearby, their decks empty and their rigging sagging. At their sterns, Emperor Raef’s banner flew instead of the usual flaming suns of Tiregian. In between these tall ships bobbed lesser craft – barges, cargo ships, fishing craft and pleasure boats, all moored securely.

  The scene at first looked gay and colourful, with sailors swarming and flags fluttering. Ethan noticed something odd. The water was not blue, or grey or even black like the seawater they had seen at Mereworth on a stormy day. It was crimson, curling out to the harbour mouth like little fingers of flame.

  ‘Look at the water,’ Ethan whispered. ‘The colour, it is red like …’

  ‘Blood,’ replied Lily tonelessly.

  ‘Blood?’ repeated Roana in surprise.

  The source of the blood soon became clear. Beached on the shoreline were three enormous black and white creatures. Ropes and nets held their massive bodies. They struggled uselessly against their imprisonment on the land, their sides heaving and labouring. Thin pink water sprayed from their spouts.

  Blood poured from spears and harpoons embedded in their sides. The blood ran into the sea in creeks and rivulets, returning home. A mournful song filled the air – a song of grieving and infinite sadness.

  Sedah sailors ran hither and thither, wielding machetes, spears and daggers, hacking and killing. Lily stared with tears in her eyes.

  ‘Whales,’ she breathed. ‘They are murdering whales.’

  Ethan hugged her tight.

  ‘We can’t do anything, Lily,’ he murmured. ‘There are too many of them. We can’t interfere.’

  ‘Why would they do that?’ asked Roana.

  ‘Meat. Oil. Bone,’ listed Saxon. ‘We don’t eat whale meat but the Sedahs obviously do. I’ve heard that the Sedah women smear whale oil on their cheeks and lips to make themselves more beautiful.’

  Lily shuddered in disgust. The whales below had stopped struggling. The sad singing ceased. Lily turned away, overcome with grief and loathing.

  ‘Look,’ Saxon cried in excitement. ‘I think that might be the Sea Dragon.’

  They all looked to where Saxon pointed. One of the five ships was the focus of plenty of activity. Soldiers and sailors swarmed, loading crates, barrels and sacks. Ropes were being mended. A crane lowered cargo down into the hold. Dozens of Sedahs stood on guard on the gangplanks and wharf, holding wicked cutlasses and long pike staffs. Other soldiers guarded the convoy of cargo wending its way down the wharves.

  ‘Let’s take a closer look,’ suggested Ethan. They all moved closer to the harbour wall.

  ‘I’m sure that’s the Sea Dragon,’ said Lily, trying to spell out the letters on the ship’s painted name-plate.

  ‘Do you think we can possibly get on board?’ asked Roana without much hope.

  ‘Not in daylight,’ replied Saxon firmly. ‘At least not here.’

  Down below, a sharp-eyed Sedah guard noticed a group of four children up behind the harbour wall, watching the l
oading of the Sea Dragon.

  He reported to his superior.

  ‘Sir,’ saluted the young soldier. ‘Just reporting potentially suspicious activity. Four children, sir. They are loitering up near the wall, observing the preparations of the Sea Dragon, sir!’

  ‘Where, Burgis?’ the officer asked, wrinkling his nose slightly. Burgis always had an odd smell about him. Burgis pointed.

  His superior lifted a spyglass and focused on the wall. There he saw four young people, apparently three males and a female, exactly as the warning had stated.

  ‘Any sign of a dog?’ asked the officer with sudden enthusiasm.

  ‘No, sir,’ replied Burgis. ‘But it could easily be hidden by the wall.’

  ‘Good work, Burgis,’ beamed the officer. ‘Better run as fast as you can with a message for Captain Malish and his tracker. I will send a couple of guards up to interrogate the children. Show Captain Malish’s men back here and give them any help that they require. You are excused from your duty here for as long as they need you.’

  A whistle sounded from the road behind them. Lily and Ethan recognised a low whining noise.

  ‘It’s Master Drummond with Aisha,’ whispered Ethan.

  The four children melted away from the wall.

  Master Drummond had the lid off his secret barrel.

  ‘Here, give me your disguises,’ he whispered urgently. ‘We don’t have much time. You may have been observed from the port. Here are your packs, cloaks and weapons.’

  Ethan freed Aisha, who leapt around everyone’s knees, wagging her tail furiously and licking everything in reach. Her tail thudded against the cart wheel with a loud thwack that sounded painful, but she was too excited at being reunited with her beloved family to notice. Everyone patted Aisha soothingly, rubbing her head and ears until she calmed down.

  Lily released Charcoal from her sack and scooped her into her pocket with a gentle murmur and a stroke. Charcoal purred in satisfaction and settled back to sleep.