The Siege Scare

by Frances Watts

  ‘Here I go,’ she said, picking up Jasper once more and slipping him beneath the belt around her waist. ‘I’ll need both hands to crawl through the tunnel.’ She swallowed. ‘So I’ll have to leave the candle behind.’

  ‘Travel safely, Tommy,’ Lil said as Tommy dropped to her knees and squeezed behind the barrel and into the tunnel. And then Tommy was alone – alone in the deepest, darkest, coldest place she had ever been …

  CHAPTER 7

  TOMMY CRAWLED ALONG the chill damp stones, feeling her way with her hands. The weight of the stone above her head seemed to press down on her in the small passage, so narrow there wasn’t even room to turn around if she should meet an enemy coming towards her in the dark. She began to breathe more quickly, and then a new fear struck her: she was deep underground and there was nowhere for fresh air to enter the tunnel!

  On and on she went, fighting off the frightening thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her. Surely she must be nearing the end of the tunnel?

  ‘It’s taking too long,’ she said. ‘What if we were wrong? What if the tunnel doesn’t actually go anywhere?’

  Then a dim glow pierced the darkness and something brushed against her face.

  ‘What is it?’ Jasper asked as Tommy, stifling a scream, drew back in alarm.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Tommy whispered. She put out a hand to feel. ‘It’s leaves,’ she said excitedly. ‘Jasper, we’ve made it!’

  ‘Careful now,’ said Jasper. ‘We don’t know what’s waiting for us out there.’

  Tommy pulled the sword from her belt and held it out as she cautiously parted the leaves. She was dreading a shout, a cry of discovery. What if the knights of Malice were in the forest, too? But all was silent.

  A road stretched ahead of her, the trees casting eerie shadows in the moonlight. Tommy had just stepped out of the shelter of the trees when a cloud floated across the moon. She began to tremble. It was a dark, moonless night, like the ones Bevan Brumm had described. What if there were bandits? She reached down to touch Jasper’s grip. She had a sword, she reminded herself, and she knew how to use it. But all the same …

  Her heart hammered in her chest as she began to run, stumbling in the dark but never slowing, till at last she saw something glowing through the trees.

  It was the inn, and there was a single lantern burning in the window.

  With a cry of relief she entered the yard.

  ‘Sword Girl?’

  Tommy jumped, her hand flying to the sword in her belt as a quiet voice spoke in her ear.

  It was the innkeeper, and he was holding a bridle. ‘This is my own horse, Ned,’ he said, and Tommy stroked the neck of a stocky horse.

  ‘Hello, Ned,’ she said. ‘Thank you – thank you both – for helping.’

  ‘I hope your plan works, Sword Girl,’ the innkeeper said. ‘Or I’m afraid Flamant is doomed.’

  CHAPTER 8

  THE CLOUDS PARTED and the moon lit her way as Tommy rode through the night. She and Ned took the forest at a gallop, then followed the road east through fields and meadows, and along a winding river.

  The sun rose over the tops of the trees that lined the river and kept rising and rising until it was directly overhead. On she rode, and by the time she had her first glimpse of Roses Castle, squatting huge and grey in the middle of a plain shimmering with grasses, the sun was beginning to sink once more.

  As she drew nearer she could see the tents and viewing platforms of the tournament, but there were no knights or squires on the jousting field. The day’s competition would be over and they’d be gathering in the great hall for the evening’s feast.

  Tommy rode up to the castle gate, breathing hard from her long ride.

  A guard stepped forward to bar her way. ‘Who goes there?’

  ‘I’m the Keeper of the Blades from Flamant Castle,’ Tommy panted. ‘I need to speak to Sir Benedict urgently.’

  The guard looked her up and down.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘You may pass. I’ll have someone fetch Sir Benedict.’

  Tommy rode Ned into the great courtyard of Roses Castle. When she slid from his back she found her legs were so weak they could barely hold her. She was leaning against the stocky brown horse for support when Sir Benedict entered the courtyard at a run, Sir Walter and Sir Percy close behind.

  ‘Tommy, what is it?’ Sir Benedict demanded. ‘Has something happened at Flamant?’

  ‘We’re under siege!’ Tommy said. ‘Sir Malcolm the Mean sent a raiding party to the western border as a decoy, and when Sir Hugh rode out to meet them with our remaining knights, the knights from Malice attacked. They’ve got Flamant Castle and the town surrounded!’ Quickly she outlined the plan she had come up with to escape from the castle and ride for help.

  Sir Walter’s face lit up when Tommy told how Lady Beatrix had written the message to the innkeeper and how the pigeon, worn out though he was, had delivered it.

  ‘I trained that my pigeon myself,’ he said proudly. Then he peered at Tommy. ‘Why, that’s my wife’s best cloak,’ he said, pointing to the cloak Tommy wore. ‘And my best belt!’

  ‘Lady Beatrix was kind enough to lend them to me,’ said Tommy.

  ‘My poor, dear Beatrix,’ said Sir Walter, his eyes clouding over. ‘How terrified she must be. Sir Benedict, we must leave at once to fight off the invaders!’

  ‘We’ll join you,’ Sir Percy declared. ‘We must teach Sir Malcolm a lesson.’

  ‘Tommy, you’ve had a long ride. Would you like to stay here and rest, or will you ride with us?’ Sir Benedict asked.

  ‘I’ll ride with you, sir,’ said Tommy, standing tall despite her tiredness.

  In next to no time, the knights of Flamant and Roses had assembled in the great courtyard of Roses Castle.

  ‘Ride out!’ Sir Percy called, and soon the courtyard rang with the sound of thundering hooves.

  For all the long journey through the night, Tommy rode alongside her hero, Sir Benedict. The rhythm of their horses’ hooves beat out the passing seconds, minutes and hours. Would they make it in time? Tommy thought of her friends, trapped behind the castle walls, and wished they could go faster. But the horses were already galloping at full stretch.

  It was early morning as Flamant Castle came into view.

  ‘Look!’ Tommy cried, pointing. The invaders from Malice had set up dozens of long ladders and were swarming up the castle walls. The guards of Flamant Castle were on the verge of being overrun.

  Sir Walter, Sir Benedict and Sir Percy drew together for a quick discussion then, at a nod from the two noblemen, Flamant Castle’s bravest knight began to call out instructions.

  ‘Sir Alistair, go after the enemies surrounding the town!’

  ‘Yes, Sir Benedict!’ Sir Alistair and a group of men from Roses Castle galloped towards the town walls to chase away the knights who had Flamant surrounded.

  ‘Archers, ride ahead!’ Sir Benedict ordered, and the archers galloped off, firing arrows at the invaders on the ladders.

  Almost instantly, the men who had been swarming up the castle walls began to swarm down, ducking and dodging the arrows raining over them. Meanwhile, those on the ground, seeing hundreds of Flamant Castle’s finest knights riding towards them with swords aloft, ran for their horses.

  The guards in the castle towers began to cheer as the invaders fled. ‘Hooray! We’re saved!’

  The drawbridge was lowered and those who had been trapped inside the castle crowded through the gate to cheer home their rescuers. Tommy was still too far away to make out their faces, but she began to wave anyway, hoping that Lil might see her – or perhaps Lil had gone down to the moat to check on the crocodiddle? Tommy’s heart gave a lurch as she realised how frightening the siege must have been for the poor crocodiddle, trapped outside the walls with all the noise and commotion.

  She scanned the banks of the moat anxiously, hoping for a glimpse of him. When she saw a movement in the bushes, she gave a sigh of relief – her friend must be e
merging from his hiding place. Then she gasped; instead of a scaly green reptile, a figure dressed in a black tunic was slipping from the cover of the bushes. It was one of Sir Malcolm’s knights!

  Tommy watched, expecting him to flee after his companions, but instead he was creeping in the other direction. With a start, Tommy realised he was heading towards the catapult, which was already loaded with a huge boulder – aimed right at the drawbridge where all the castle’s inhabitants had gathered. She had to stop him!

  Tommy tightened the reins and leaned forward in the saddle, urging Ned into a gallop.

  The enemy knight must have heard Ned’s hooves pounding across the field because he glanced up and, seeing Tommy and the horse streaking towards the catapult, broke into a run.

  ‘Faster, Ned!’ Tommy said, bending low over the horse’s neck.

  The ground passed beneath her in a blur and Tommy’s pulse raced in time with the horse’s steps. They had to reach the catapult first – they had to!

  ‘Whoa!’ Tommy pulled on the reins as they reached the wooden structure and slid from the horse’s back a split second before the enemy knight ran up.

  ‘Out of my way, girl!’ he barked.

  ‘No!’ Tommy said, though she trembled with fear as she gazed at the black-clad man towering over her.

  ‘I said move!’

  The knight took a step towards her and Tommy pulled Jasper Swann from her belt.

  ‘Don’t take another step,’ she told him, brandishing the sword.

  ‘I warned you, girl,’ the knight hissed as he pulled his own sword from his belt.

  Without thinking, Tommy stepped forward and, with a powerful downward stroke, knocked the knight’s sword from his grasp.

  ‘Wh-what?’ he stammered, looking at his empty hand in disbelief.

  ‘You don’t want to get in a fight with our sword girl,’ said a voice behind Tommy.

  She spun around to see Sir Benedict, still on horseback. She’d been so intent on the enemy, she hadn’t even heard him ride up.

  ‘Well done, Tommy,’ Sir Benedict said. ‘You took care of him.’

  The knight from Malice was now running away across the field, with two of Flamant’s knights riding after him.

  Sir Benedict gave her a nod. ‘Now let’s go home.’

  Tommy grasped Ned’s reins and put her foot in the stirrup, then swung onto the horse’s back.

  Together she and Sir Benedict cantered back to Sir Walter, Sir Percy and the procession of knights riding towards the castle.

  ‘Sir Thomas,’ Sir Walter was shouting as they rejoined the others, ‘take fifty men and continue west to find Sir Hugh.’

  With a burst of speed, fifty horses peeled off from the main group and followed Sir Thomas west after the fleeing knights of Malice.

  ‘Sword Girl, take the front!’

  Tommy’s head jerked up. Had she heard Sir Walter correctly?

  Sir Benedict was grinning at her as Sir Walter the Bald repeated the instruction.

  ‘Sword Girl! To the front!’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ cried Tommy.

  Urging Ned on, she rode to the head of the group. As she lifted her head to gaze at her beloved castle, a flutter of wings above the battlements caught her eye.

  ‘Pigeon!’ she called.

  There was a flurry of feathers as the pigeon swooped down to fly beside her. ‘Sword Girl, you did it – you’ve saved us!’ he crowed.

  ‘No, Pigeon; we did it!’

  And to the sound of deafening cheers both inside and outside the castle, they led the knights home.

  JOIN TOMMY AND

  HER FRIENDS FOR ANOTHER

  SWORD GIRL

  ADVENTURE IN

  CHAPTER 1

  ‘FLAMANT FOR VICTORY!’

  The battle cry was so loud it carried through the thick stone walls of the armoury and all the way to the sword chamber where Tommy was working.

  ‘Flamant for victory!’

  The cry was echoed by dozens of voices, followed by the thunder of horses’ hooves across the great courtyard of Flamant Castle. The castle’s squires were practising their jousting skills in preparation for the tournament that was only five days away.

  Tommy held up the sword she was polishing and saw the blade gleam in the flickering light of the candle on the wall. With a sigh, she replaced it in the rack then picked up another sword from the pile on the floor beside her and dipped her rag into the pot of clove-scented oil.

  The squires, who were training to be knights, would be jousting with lances on horseback, but the knights themselves would be competing in sword fights. The knights had been practising every day, and Tommy had been polishing and sharpening their swords from morning till night. In all the months she had been Keeper of the Blades, she had never been so busy.

  The cries of the squires were drowned out by a clatter as Reynard, the Keeper of the Bows, burst into the armoury and dropped an armful of shields on the smith’s wooden table.

  ‘You’ve been gone a while,’ the smith observed with a grunt. ‘Busy in town, is it?’

  ‘You should see it, Smith,’ Reynard replied. ‘All the houses have banners on them in the colours of Flamant Castle, and the town is full of merchants who’ve come from all over for the fair in Jonglers Field.’

  Tommy, who had lifted her head from her work to listen, ducked it again when she saw Reynard glance in her direction. Reynard had hated Tommy ever since she had been made the Keeper of the Blades instead of him.

  But Reynard must have seen that Tommy was listening for he raised his voice to say, ‘There are going to be dancers and musicians – I even saw some acrobats practising their tumbling. I feel sorry for anyone who’s missing all the fun.’

  Reynard didn’t sound very sorry at all, Tommy thought, as she scrubbed furiously at a smudge of dirt on the blade of a sword. She had been so excited when Sir Walter the Bald announced that Flamant Castle would be holding a tournament, and all the knights and squires of neighbouring Roses Castle had been invited. There was to be a grand procession followed by three days of competitions, with a big feast held every night. And on top of that, there was to be a fair in Jonglers Field, with stalls and games and entertainment. Tommy longed to see the preparations, but whenever Smith needed an errand run to the blacksmith in town, he sent Reynard instead of her. ‘I’m sorry, Sword Girl,’ he would say, ‘but you’re needed here.’

  Tommy sighed again.

  ‘What’s the matter, dearie?’

  The voice came from a sabre behind her. It was Nursie, one of the Old Wrecks. When Tommy had first become Keeper of the Blades, responsible for looking after all the bladed weapons of Flamant Castle, the Old Wrecks had been neglected for years. But Tommy soon discovered that the swords in the small rack in the darkest corner of the sword chamber were inhabited by the spirits of their previous owners.

  ‘I’m just thinking about the tournament,’ Tommy told her.

  ‘Ooh, the tournament,’ said Nursie. ‘What an exciting time. Why, I remember when my little darling fought in his first tournament. He won, of course.’ Nursie’s ‘little darling’, Tommy knew, was Sir Walter himself; Nursie had been his nursemaid.

  A long-handled dagger with a deep voice chimed in, ‘And don’t forget the fair. All those stalls … There’ll be leather goods and delicious pies and spices and candles and – oh, anything you can imagine. It’s a fine time to be a merchant. Will you be buying anything at the fair, Sword Girl?’

  ‘You merchants are all the same, Bevan Brumm,’ Nursie scolded. ‘Always wanting people to buy things. But our sword girl is more interested in the tournament, aren’t you, dearie?’

  While the sabre and the dagger argued over which was better, a tournament or a fair, Tommy’s spirits sank lower. She’d never seen a tournament or a fair.

  As she sighed for a third time, a slender sword with a slightly curved blade spoke up. ‘It must be hard to be cooped up here in the sword chamber when there’s so much excitement going on out
side.’ Jasper Swann, a squire, had been close to Tommy’s own age when he died. Perhaps that was why he often seemed to understand what she was feeling.

  Tommy looked at the sword in her hand. ‘I wish I could be out there in the courtyard,’ she said. ‘Riding a horse and jousting.’ She thrust the sword forward at an imaginary opponent. It was Tommy’s dearest wish to one day become a squire. ‘But they’ll probably never let a girl ride in a tournament,’ she finished gloomily.

  ‘Don’t be downhearted, dearie,’ Nursie advised. ‘Your turn will come.’

  ‘That’s right, Sword Girl,’ Jasper agreed. ‘After all, whoever thought a kitchen girl would become the castle’s Keeper of the Blades? And look how quickly you—’

  But before he could finish they heard a cry so loud it made Tommy drop her sword in fright. ‘What was that?’ she gasped.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  FRANCES WATTS was born in the medieval city of Lausanne, in Switzerland, and moved to Australia when she was three. After studying literature at university she began working as an editor. Her bestselling picture books include Kisses for Daddy and the 2008 Children’s Book Council of Australia award-winner, Parsley Rabbit’s Book about Books (both illustrated by David Legge). Frances is also the author of a series about two very unlikely superheroes, Extraordinary Ernie and Marvellous Maud, and the highly acclaimed children’s fantasy/adventure series, the Gerander Trilogy.

  Frances lives in Sydney’s inner west, and divides her time between writing and editing. Her cat doesn’t talk.

  ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR

  GREGORY ROGERShas always loved art and drawing so it’s no surprise he became an illustrator. He was the first Australian to win the prestigious Kate Greenaway Medal. The first of his popular wordless picture book series, The Boy, the Bear, the Baron, the Bard, was selected as one of the Ten Best Illustrated Picture Books of 2004 by the New York Times and short-listed for the Children’s Book Council of Australia Book of the Year Award in 2005. The third book, The Hero of Little Street, won the CBCA Picture Book of the Year in 2010. Gregory loves movies and music, and is a collector of books, antiques and anything odd and unusual.