Now, as he saw the two mice scurrying down from the hill, he snapped his telescope shut and turned to Captain Antenac, the Commander of the Elite Guard.
‘Right, they’ve seen us. Antenac – your troop to the left. Don’t cross the stream till you’re out of sight of the house. Then into the barn, kill any defenders, and stand by to assault the house when I give the order.’
As Antenac’s troop moved off, Cambray turned to his other captain. ‘Mortain! Your troop to the right. Get into that orchard and keep firing at the house – that ought to keep their heads down. When I give the order, leave half your mice to give covering fire and smash your way in. Clear?’
Mortain nodded. He was a tough warrior who lived for fighting and was fanatically loyal to the General. With a jerk of his head, he moved his troop off towards the orchard. This one was going to be easy...
At the sound of approaching wheels, Cambray turned and waited until the small wooden cart, drawn by four burly guards, drew to a halt. Cambray looked at its passenger with sour amusement. In the cart, his face twisted with pain at the continual jolting, lay Forstus.
‘The troops are getting into position,’ said Cambray. ‘We should hear Mortain’s mice open fire at any moment. That ought to amuse you – being in at the kill!’
Forstus glared at him. ‘If you think anything would amuse me right now, you must be as mad as most of the army think you are!’
Cambray ignored the insult. ‘Cheer up, Forstus! I know – let’s help you to a better view. You mice,’ he continued, turning to the soldiers, ‘get him out, give him his sticks and let him enjoy the battle.’
Forstus yelled in agony as he was hauled from the cart. Cambray grinned, then swung round to face the house as a crash of gunfire shattered the silence.
The first volley struck the house like a tidal wave, shattering windows and bringing down plaster, showering the mice inside with choking, blinding dust. At the second volley, old Quincy knew that they would be unable to hold the house and that the attackers would know it also. The final assault would come at any moment.
‘Down to the study!’ he cried. ‘All of you!’
As another volley crashed out, the defenders reeled from the windows and fled down the stairs.
Mrs Quincy was covered in dust, her eyes were streaming and she was sneezing powerfully. The others were equally dusty and they gazed at old Quincy with shocked despair.
The last time, it had seemed so easy!
‘We’re hopelessly outnumbered, I’m afraid,’ said the old soldier. ‘And I think we’re up against Cambray’s Elite Guard. We cannot possibly hold out against them.’
‘Then we can go down fighting!’ exclaimed Mrs Quincy stoutly.
‘No! There will be no heroics, and no needless loss of life. I know what Cambray’s after, and he mustn’t get it. I mean the Crown.’ His family stared
in astonishment. ‘Dabo, uncover the trap door and give me that key!’
Dabo’s heart sank. His brief interlude of peace and happiness was over, and it was back to running and hiding. He handed over the key, turned back the carpet and heaved open the trap door while old Quincy unlocked the safe.
At once, the feeling of oppression and dread flooded over Dabo. Looking round, he could see that the others also felt it, as General Quincy gently withdrew the cloth-wrapped bundle. Only Armand seemed unaffected and was staring at the old soldier with excited eyes.
‘Take it!’ said Quincy. ‘Guard it well, as I have guarded it.’
More volleys crashed out from the orchard but nobody took any notice. Armand accepted the bundle and clutched it tightly. Instantly, the feeling of oppression vanished.
‘My thanks, and my father’s thanks, for your loyal service,’ said Armand. ‘Now we must go. Not to save ourselves, but to save the Crown from falling into the hands of one who would misuse its power and bring misery to Carminel.’
Dabo stared. Little Armand suddenly seemed so much older.
‘Quickly now!’ ordered Quincy. ‘All of you, down into the tunnel. It comes out in the middle of the forest, and from there you had best make for the old tower – and we must just pray that Lord Gideon will return soon and find you.’
Tom stared at his father in dismay. ‘Surely you’re coming too? Aren’t we all going?’
‘No. I shall remain behind to cover your retreat.’
‘And I stay with you, husband!’ exclaimed his wife.
‘And I!’ said Colin.
‘And me,’ said old Benjamin. ‘I’m too old and stiff in the joints to go gallivanting down tunnels. I’d only slow them down. I stays.’
Quincy seemed about to argue, when another volley thundered out, followed at once by thunderous crashes at the door.
‘Go!’ he cried. ‘Now! Lord of Light! We’ve left it too late!’
20. Gideon Advances
Gideon stood at the prow of the cutter. Out in the bay, the Janus lay at anchor, gently rising and falling as the waves rolled beneath her. Ahead, peaceful and deserted under the morning sun, lay the coast of Carminel. They were home!
Gideon had left a strong, loyal crew aboard Janus to guard the gold and the prisoners. The rest of the sea-mice marched with the soldiers and Eagle Warriors, who were now fit and strong after a sunny voyage with plenty of good food and exercise.
Mutt was a changed mouse. Since saving Gideon’s life, he had found himself a hero. He and William were firm friends.
At every farm and village, the loyal country-mice came running with offers of food and clothing for the ragged mice from the mine. And, although Gideon offered them gold, they wanted no payment. It was enough for them that he had returned.
Wherever they stopped, Gideon asked eagerly for news. Rumour flew like the wind: reliable information was hard to come by. But on their fourth night they camped near a farm, snuggled into a fold of the hills, and the farmer and his wife told him that General Cambray himself was out with his army somewhere to the north.
After that, Gideon increased the pace and placed his little force on a more war-like footing. He increased his scouting parties and put Conal in charge of the rearguard. As they reached the moors, he threw out patrols to either side of his line of march. If only Galliard were there! But the hope of ever seeing his beloved eagle again was slowly fading in his heart.
On the sixth morning, Gideon was walking at the head of the column when suddenly, over the brow of a hill, he saw a scouting party running back, William and Mutt pelting ahead. Gideon called a halt.
‘No sign of Cambray, sir,’ said William, ‘but there’s a farm in the next valley burnt to the ground!’
From the hillside, they gazed in dismay at the blackened ruins. ‘No accident,’ remarked Conal.
‘Cambray’s work,’ said Gideon grimly. ‘I wonder why... Sergeant, take a patrol and see what you can find. We’ll wait here. Put a sharp-eyed mouse up on that hill. Does anyone know whose farm this was?’
Corporal Fallow, one of the Eagle Squadron, said: ‘It’s the Quincy place, sir. I knew it in the old days. Used to buy cider from them, and —’
‘Quincy?’ asked Gideon sharply. ‘Wasn’t he one of our Generals?’
‘Aye, sir. A right fierce old gent and a good commander. He led a regiment at Barrowdown.’
Gideon stared at the mouse intently. ‘We’re only a short march from there.’
‘That’s right, sir. But why would old Cambray burn down General Quincy’s place? From the look of it, the fire’s only just gone out. Some bits are still smouldering.’
Gideon had no answer to that, although a vague suspicion was forming in his mind.
Conal returned. ‘The fire was started yesterday or last night. No sign of life, but I found the tracks of a large force heading north. Do we follow?’
Gideon’s suspicions crystallized into certainties. ‘Cambray burned this farm. He must have caught Armand and Dabo, and he may even have found the Crown. So yes – we follow!’
21. Cambray’s Nightmare
That night, General Cambray lay on his blanket in the old tower. He was too excited to sleep. It was all over and he had won.
It had been so easy! Armand and his friends had thought they were safe in the tower. But then Cambray had appeared with old Quincy, his wife and their two farm-workers, and threatened to shoot them unless Armand surrendered. Now, he had the whole lot of them safely locked away.
Best of all, he had the Crown. It was beside him now. He had sworn never to let it out of his sight.
Nearby, Antenac and Mortain slept lightly, ready to spring awake at the slightest sound. On a heap of blankets, Forstus twitched and snuffled in his sleep. Outside, the sentries patrolled the clearing. Gradually, the moon sank below the dark forest. At last, Cambray closed his eyes and slept.
In the dead of night, the great ruby at the heart of the Crown began to glow. Suddenly, a beam of blood-red light streaked out, straight on to the sleeping General’s head.
And Cambray dreamed. He was alone in utter darkness. Gradually, ghostly figures appeared, bathed in ruby light, and their piteous wailing was so unearthly and terrible that even when Cambray blocked his ears he could not escape it.
‘Who are you?’ he yelled in his dream.
‘We are the mice you killed at Barrowdown. You showed us no mercy, and none will be shown to you if ever you try to wear the Crown!’
The ruby’s light changed to gold, and Cambray looked with foreboding at the body lying on the filthy straw. The damp dungeon smelt of sickness. The body stirred and sat up. Cambray recognized the sorrowful face of King Auriol.
Cambray relaxed. ‘Well, King?’ he sneered. ‘What do you want? Freedom? Bad luck, the answer’s no!’
Then he saw that Auriol was holding the Crown. ‘Take it,’ whispered the King. ‘It’s what you’ve always wanted. Put it on.’
Cambray forgot the warning of his previous vision. Seizing the Crown, he crammed it on his head. Instantly, the Crown tightened in an iron grip. In panic, he tried to wrench it off, but it clung on until he thought his head would burst. It drove daggers into his brain, blinding him, driving him mad! He opened his jaws and screamed.
Antenac and Mortain leapt to their feet, blundered about for their weapons, crashed into each other and fell. Forstus awoke and saw Cambray crouching against the wall, paws clutching his head and screaming hysterically.
Conal had been spying on the tower from the edge of the clearing. At the first scream, he saw the sentries freeze in horror and the soldiers spring to their feet, grabbing their weapons. Conal looked up at the tower and saw two little faces at the bars of the topmost window: Armand and Dabo.
Conal’s heart leapt. They were alive! As for those screams – someone’s guilty conscience was giving him nightmares, thought the Sergeant with a grin, and no prizes for guessing who it might be!
The camp was in total confusion. Nobody noticed as Conal slipped away into the darkness.
‘Get out!’ screamed Cambray. ‘Get out and leave me alone! And take that slug Forstus with you!’
Antenac and Mortain hastily obeyed. For the rest of the night, and all next day, Cambray remained in his room. He refused food and screamed abuse at any mouse who called to him through the door.
Accustomed to the General’s rages, the Elite Guard calmly went on with the daily routine of cooking, cleaning weapons and posting sentries. But Forstus was alarmed. He knew that the Crown possessed strange powers, and guessed that it had somehow worked its terrible magic on Cambray.
It had driven him mad.
By evening, Forstus had made up his mind. He would slip away quietly, hide somewhere, and trust to his own cunning to bring himself out on top in the end. He knew the night’s password but nobody challenged him as he hobbled out of the clearing and vanished into the shadows.
Deep in the forest, while their mice were eating the last of their rations, Gideon and Conal held a Council of War.
‘Just how much longer is he going to stay?’ asked Gideon. ‘We don’t know how many hostages he has apart from Armand and Dabo. He might have old Quincy and his family, too. And the moment we try to attack the tower —’
‘He threatens to cut their throats. And he’d do it, too!’
‘Yes. So our only chance is to ambush him when he’s on the move. But he won’t budge! What’s the matter with him?’
‘Don’t know, sir. Judging by those screams, I’d say he’s gone off his head. But we can’t stay here much longer...’
A shadow rippled across the clearing. Gideon glanced up, but the circle of sky was empty.
Suddenly, a dark shape swooped down and landed with a fierce beating of wings. Fixing Gideon with its great, dark eyes, it gave a soft mew of pleasure.
Hardly able to believe it, Gideon sprang to his feet. All over the clearing, mice scrambled up and stared in wonder.
‘Galliard! Oh, Galliard!’
Suddenly, the sky was alive with eagles. They swooped to the ground and the mice rushed to welcome them. Gideon was almost crying with joy and relief: the Eagle Squadron was complete once more!
An hour before dawn, Gideon’s plan went into action. The mice had been ordered to keep silent so the whispers of ‘All the best, sir!’ and ‘Good luck, Sarge!’ sounded only like a gentle rustle in the grass.
Gideon whispered to Galliard, and with a mighty beating of wings, the great eagle soared into the dark sky for the opening phase of the battle.
Landing on top of the tower was not going to be easy. But Gideon’s scouts had assured him that, incredibly enough, Cambray had failed to post a look-out. ‘Sure, an’ they’re not expecting an airborne assault!’ Conal had commented cheerfully.
He did not know that General Cambray was out of his mind with terror.
Galliard circled the tower but the sentries were half asleep. They did not notice the dark speck floating silently in the night sky.
At the first glimmer of dawn, Galliard spiralled down. Gideon and Conal braced themselves as her talons gripped the stone parapet, her wings beating until she was sure of her balance. Then she folded them and was still.
Gideon and Conal dismounted, and gently eased open the trap door leading to the staircase. Holding their breath, they crept down the steps. Torchlight
flickered up from below and their huge shadows reared over them as they rounded the final bend, pistols in their paws.
But the landing was deserted.
‘Cambray’s losing his grip,’ murmured Conal. ‘Or his marbles,’ he added, remembering those terrible screams the night before.
‘I’ll go in and release the prisoners,’ Gideon whispered. ‘You check the next landing.’ Softly, he drew back the bolts and opened the door.
The prisoners lay asleep, all except Bella, who was by the window staring out over the dark forest. Hearing the door open, she swung round and gasped in sudden fear.
‘Who are you?’
‘Lord Gideon. Don’t be afraid. I’ve come to let you out. Wake the others but make sure they keep quiet!’
With a pounding heart, Bella obeyed. The nightmare of captivity was almost over, and she felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of action now that the famous Gideon was here!
By the time Conal returned to report that the tower was as silent as the grave, the other prisoners were awake. Their eyes shone, their spirits soared, but obedient to Gideon’s command they kept silent.
‘Dabo, where’s Cambray, do you know?’
‘In the room below, sir, but something strange is going on. I think he’s gone mad!’
‘Not before time,’ remarked Conal. ‘Sir, we’d best be moving.’
Gideon turned to the prisoners. ‘Follow me quietly. Any trouble, get back up here quickly!’
He led the way to the next landing.
‘What now?’ whispered Dabo.
Gideon silently slipped home the bolt of Cambray’s door. ‘We wait,’ he whispered. ‘But not for long. The Eagles will arrive any minute now!’
The sudde
n attack took the Elite Guard completely by surprise. A flight of shadows swooped overhead, the panic-stricken sentries’ warning yells came too late, and half the soldiers found themselves gripped by mighty talons that fell from the sky and plucked them from the ground. Before they had grasped what was happening, they had been dropped deep in the forest and their giant attackers were wheeling away and disappearing over the treetops.
‘Now!’ yelled the Janus’s Bosun, and the sea-mice charged out of the forest, screaming and waving their cutlasses. As they smashed into the Elite Guard, Gideon and Conal erupted from the tower, yelling their battle-cries, their rapiers flashing like lightning and again the eagles swooped to the attack, the enemy screaming in panic and scrambling desperately to escape from those deadly talons.
‘Fire!’ yelled Conal, and the Eagle Warriors poured in a close-range volley. Then Gideon yelled the order to dismount, and his mice drew their swords, hurling themselves against the Elite Guard, sweeping them back to the walls of the tower, while the eagles circled overhead, awaiting Gideon’s order to make one more charge.
Captain Antenac died bravely, cut down on the steps of the tower. Mortain attempted to lead a counter-charge, but when he fell to a thrust from the Janus’s Bosun, his soldiers lost heart. As they stumbled back in disarray, Gideon raised his sword, the terrible eagles swooped down again screaming fiercely and the Elite Guard simply fell apart.
Throwing down their weapons, they yelled for mercy. Many simply sprinted off into the forest.
Gideon led his mice into the tower and up the stairs. Throwing back the bolt, he burst into Cambray’s room. The General stood with drawn sword, the light of madness dancing in his eyes.
‘You’ll not take it from me!’ he shrieked. ‘It’s mine, you hear? I won it, fair and square!’
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