Sebastian Darke: Prince of Explorers

by Philip Caveney

  'So this Night Runner mother is playing with her baby and she says, "Oh, Junior, you've got your father's eyes. Make sure you give them back when you've finished with them!"'

  They loved that one – being invited to laugh at the thing they feared most in the world. It got a great response.

  'Hey, what do you call a Night Runner in a bell tower? A dead ringer!'

  Likewise.

  'Did you hear about the polite Night Runner? Every time he met someone, he said, "I'm pleased to eat you!"'

  Now the children were literally roaring with laughter and Sebastian was on a roll. When he found a scrap of paper in one pocket, he decided to try the 'Letter from my mother' routine. This was one of his father's finest moments – it had been copied by jesters the length and breadth of the known world.

  'I had a letter from my mother back in Jerabim,' he told the children, adopting a serious tone; and then pretended to read from the slip of paper:

  'Dear Sebastian, I hope you are well. I'm writing this very slowly – I know you're not a quick reader. You'll see some big changes when you come home because we've moved house. It was your father's idea. Somebody told him that most accidents occur within two miles of home, so he decided we should move.'

  The laughter now was coming in waves. Sebastian had to keep pausing to let it die down before he continued.

  'The weather here hasn't been too bad. It only rained twice last week – the first time for three days, the second time for four days. It's been so windy, one of our hens laid the same egg four times.'

  Roars of laughter filled the room.

  'Your brother has an important new job. He has seven hundred men under him. He's cutting the grass at the town cemetery. I am enclosing three socks because you said in your last letter that you'd grown another foot.'

  They were screaming with laughter now and Sebastian had to make a real effort not to join in with them.

  'Well, son, I must finish up now. Your father's dinner is on the stove and there is a terrible smell coming from your loving mother. P.S. I meant to put ten croats in with this letter but I have already sealed the envelope!'

  The audience was in stitches and, encouraged, Sebastian kept going, the jokes spilling out of him in a never-ending stream – old jokes, new jokes, ones he'd just made up. He looked across to the corner where his friends were sitting and saw that Keera, Phelan, Salah and Cornelius were laughing along with everybody else. Even Max looked like he was enjoying himself and Cal's usual sneer had been replaced by a grudging smile.

  Inspired, he started improvising jokes about them; jibes about Cornelius's height ('He's so short, he needs turn-ups on his underpants!') and Max's ability to break wind ('He's famous for doing farmyard impressions. Not the noises, just the smells!'). By the time he'd reached the end of the routine, the children were hysterical and the place in uproar. He took a bow at the end and left the stage to the sound of children applauding and yelling for more. As he went to sit with his friends, he seemed to be walking on air; he imagined Aaron up in his throne room, smiling to himself as he heard the sounds of applause drifting up the staircase.

  'You were great!' observed Cornelius incredulously as Sebastian threw himself down on a cushion. 'I can't imagine why you gave it all up.'

  'You were so funny!' cried Keera.

  But Max looked as though he was about to burst into tears.

  'What's wrong with you?' Sebastian asked him.

  'Your father would have been so proud, young master. If only he had lived to see that performance. So much better than everyone expected!'

  'Thanks,' said Sebastian. 'I think.'

  Everybody glanced warily at Cal, expecting some kind of put-down, but he just shrugged his powerful shoulders.

  'You were good,' he said; and left it at that.

  'I suppose that has to be Aaron's old costume,' observed Cornelius.

  Sebastian nodded. 'He gave it to me as a parting gift,' he said. 'You know, I wish he'd agree to come with us. I hate the thought of leaving him all alone here. He said that there was one other thing he needed to do but I can't imagine what that might be.'

  All eyes turned to Phelan, but if he knew what that something was, he wasn't telling.

  CHAPTER 26

  THE DEPARTURE

  The next three days passed in a fever of preparation.

  Each morning, Cornelius and Sebastian set out with a work party to make their final adjustments to the ark. These consisted mostly of adding extra struts and braces at what Cornelius had determined were 'danger points'. Sebastian had no idea what difference they would make but he bowed to Cornelius's superior knowledge, saying that what he knew about boats could be written on one fingernail. After all, his homeland Jerabim was in the middle of a desert!

  Max went along with them to provide muscle, which proved useful when a large gruntag came lumbering out of the undergrowth – to be faced with a buffalope charge. Keera and Salah came along with them one day; Sebastian gave them a guided tour of the treasure in the hold, but it meant very little to the Jilith – they described the precious jewels and gold coins as 'pretty'.

  In the evening, safely back at Sanctuary, Sebastian went to spend some time with Aaron. The old man was a fountain of knowledge on just about any subject and Sebastian found his conversation fascinating. It was becoming increasingly hard for him to think about leaving Aaron behind.

  Almost before he knew it, it was the eve of their departure and he went up to the throne room one last time. As he pushed open the doors, Phelan came towards him, looking furtive.

  'What's going on?' Sebastian asked him.

  'Nothing,' he said. 'Just some last-minute business. I'll see you downstairs.' He went out, closing the door behind him.

  Sebastian approached the throne and noticed immediately that a few things had changed. Many of Aaron's precious possessions seemed to have been removed – and lengths of jungle vine trailed along the floor, disappearing behind wooden boxes that had been placed strategically around the room. The vines appeared to have been soaked in a sticky black substance, much like the resin used to waterproof the ark.

  'What are those for?' asked Sebastian, but Aaron simply made a dismissive gesture.

  'Nothing for you to worry about,' he said. 'Just a few arrangements for after you've all departed. Something in the way of a surprise.'

  'A surprise for who?' asked Sebastian.

  'Ah, now that would be telling! Come and have a seat. As tonight is a special occasion, I have opened a bottle of wine I've been saving.' He indicated a dusty old bottle standing on a table with two golden goblets. 'I used to have quite a collection of fine wines,' he said, 'but over the years it has gradually dwindled away. A few bottles here, a few there – you know how it is. But I always swore that I would not drink this last bottle until my task was complete.'

  Sebastian sat down in his usual seat and, filling the goblets with the dark-red liquid, handed one to Aaron. 'What's so special about this wine?' he asked.

  'Oh, this one bears King Sesam's crest. This would have been from his very own reserve.'

  'Won't it have gone off by now?' asked Sebastian.

  Aaron chuckled. 'A fine wine improves with age,' he said. 'Everybody knows that.' They both lifted their goblets and sipped at the contents; then spat it out with a sound of disgust. 'So much for that theory!' spluttered Aaron; and then he laughed delightedly. 'Imagine – all those days and nights I longed to open the ruddy bottle and when I finally do, it tastes like buffalope pee!'

  Sebastian laughed too. He liked the old man immensely and enjoyed being in his company. Why wouldn't he agree to accompany them to Veltan?

  'Look,' he said. 'About tomorrow . . . Surely there's some way we can persuade you to change your mind?'

  'We've been through this before,' said Aaron, shaking his grey head. 'I'm staying here. I have things to do.'

  'What things?' cried Sebastian. 'I mean, please don't take this the wrong way, but you're helpless on your own. Who will b
ring you food and drink?'

  'I shall have no need of it,' Aaron assured him.

  'But you'll die.'

  'All men must die, Sebastian. And I'm already living on borrowed time. I've had my life. Now I'm more concerned with the youngsters, about making sure they have an opportunity to escape from this awful place. Come . . .' He lifted a waterskin from beside his seat and rinsed out the goblets, then filled them to the brim. 'A toast,' he said. 'And since the fine wine is long past its best, we shall have to make do with water.' He raised his goblet. 'Here's to the children. To their new life in Veltan – and to those who will help make it happen.'

  Sebastian drank, and the water tasted surprisingly cool and sweet.

  The following morning Sebastian woke at first light to find that he was alone in the small chamber. He grabbed the animal-skin backpack that Keera had made for him, into which he had already folded his jester's outfit. Then he went down to find Cornelius packing his own things for departure; Max was watching him and offering plenty of unwanted advice. Most of the children were awake, throwing their various bits and pieces into their own packs, while Phelan, Salah and Keera wandered around giving instructions.

  Max saw Sebastian approaching and gave him a disparaging look. 'Oh, so you're finally up?' he observed. 'Amazing how some people can sleep at the most inappropriate times.'

  'I was tired,' Sebastian told him. 'What's for breakfast?'

  Cornelius jerked a thumb towards the fireplace, where the usual pot of rusa stew was bubbling aromatically over the flames. 'Same as always,' he said. 'Between you and me, I'm getting a bit sick of that stuff.'

  'We've only been eating it a few days,' Sebastian told him. 'These poor kids must have been eating it all their lives. Still, I know what you mean. The first thing I'm going to do when we get to Veltan is order something exotic. You know – something with some spices in it. It's a big port: they're sure to have some fancy restaurants there.'

  'I think you may be getting ahead of yourself,' said Cornelius calmly. 'Perhaps you should have said if we get there. As in, if the ark doesn't sink and if the water dragons don't gobble us up and if Aaron's right about there being no more rapids between here and Veltan.'

  Max studied the little warrior for a few moments. 'You're a right little ray of sunshine, aren't you?' he said.

  Cornelius smiled. 'Coming from you, that's probably quite a compliment.'

  A quick breakfast was eaten, mostly in silence. Everybody was aware that this was the big day, their chance to escape from Sanctuary. Nobody was sad to leave the place. It had been their prison for far too long. Instead, there was an atmosphere of rising excitement.

  As usual, Keera came over with a bowl of stew for Sebastian – as if he were incapable of serving himself. 'Here,' she said, pressing it into his hands. 'Did you sleep well?'

  'Fine, thank you.' Sebastian looked at her thoughtfully. 'Keera, are you positive you want to come with us? I'm sure that Cal and you could make it back to your village if you decided that was the best thing. I'd understand.'

  Keera looked insulted. 'I told you before, my place is with you.' She glanced across the room at Cal, who was sitting near the fireplace, wolfing down his own breakfast. 'Cal says that he will come too.'

  'Really?' Cornelius seemed none too happy at this news. 'Surely he'd rather head back to his own people. He's fulfilled any obligation he made to us.'

  'He says he promised my father he would look after me,' said Keera. 'So he will not abandon me, no matter what happens. I have told him to go back, but he just won't listen.' She looked at Sebastian. 'He is jealous of the two of us.'

  'Er . . . um . . . well, there's absolutely no reason why he should be!' protested Sebastian, aware that Cornelius and Max were enjoying his discomfort.

  'Of course there is! He knows that you have asked me to be your mate.'

  'Er . . . yes, I've been meaning to have a word with you about that. You see, Keera, where I come from, a mate is just—'

  But he was interrupted by a sudden crash. Glancing up in surprise, he saw that Phelan, his meal finished, instead of stacking his clay bowl to be washed as usual, had simply flung it against the nearest wall, smashing it to pieces. For a moment everybody stared at him in silence. Then Salah, who was sitting beside him, grinned and flung her own half-eaten meal against the wall, making a great splash of stew and broken pottery. Suddenly the idea caught on and all the children were throwing their bowls at the wall, the sound of the shattering clay echoing around the empty room.

  'What's got into them?' asked Max irritably. 'They're behaving like . . . like animals!'

  'It's a symbolic gesture,' Sebastian told him. 'It's their way of saying that they're never coming back to this terrible life.'

  Max grunted. 'I understand that,' he said. 'But what are they going to eat out of when they're on the ark? Their pockets?'

  'He's got a point,' said Cornelius.

  Phelan got to his feet and looked around the room. 'It's almost time,' he announced. 'But first we go to bid farewell to Aaron.'

  'Yes,' muttered Max. 'And perhaps you'd like to tell him about the horrible mess you've made with all that broken crockery.'

  'It won't matter to him,' said Phelan mysteriously.

  All the children shouldered their packs and followed him up the stairs. Sebastian and the others did the same; Sebastian felt particularly awkward when Keera took his hand as if they were sweethearts. Only Cal chose not to accompany them, saying that he had not been invited up before and didn't see why he should bother to go now. Nobody felt like pointing out that he was being rude so they left him to it.

  Aaron was sitting on his throne, bidding farewell to the long, respectful queue of children. Sebastian noticed that the old man knew them all by name and had a special last thought to impart to each. He was like a doting grandfather taking leave of his grandchildren.

  As they drew nearer to the throne, Sebastian noticed Cornelius gazing thoughtfully at the resin-soaked vines running across the stone floor.

  'What are those things?' he whispered.

  'I'd say they are fuses,' Cornelius muttered. 'And presumably the boxes he has placed around the room are stuffed with explosives, like the thunder-sticks we used in Brigandia.'

  Sebastian was horrified. 'But . . . why would he have explosives in here?' he hissed.

  Cornelius shrugged. 'Perhaps he's planning to go out with a bang.'

  Sebastian would have asked more questions but they were now approaching the throne.

  Cornelius stepped up first and bowed to Aaron.

  'Ah, Captain Drummel,' said the old man. 'I am putting all my faith and the lives of these children in your capable hands. It is a great responsibility. Please don't let me down.'

  'I won't,' Cornelius assured him.

  'Good man. I have a parting gift for you.' Aaron reached down by his feet and lifted a small glass lantern. It looked old and battered and there seemed to be no chamber for oil. Aaron placed it carefully in Cornelius's hands. 'The Lantern of Krelt,' he said. 'Now wherever you travel at night, a light shall go with you.'

  Cornelius was clearly surprised. 'But surely you must leave this for others who may come to this city?' he reasoned.

  Aaron shook his head. 'There will be no place for it when I am gone,' he said. 'Take it with my best wishes, and may good fortune travel with you.'

  Cornelius bowed his head and stepped aside. Sebastian, still holding hands with Keera, took his place.