Her brother took the necklace and slunk off, murmuring under his breath. "Imagination, and
those eyes of yours, sister, that's what the man died from!"
Much to his surprise, her voice followed him, echoing around the cavern and its surrounding
passages. 'Aye, thou art right, brother, but beware, mine ears are as sharp as mine eyes.
Nothing escapes Maguda Razan!" He broke into a run, dashing past the eldest of his brothers,
who was on his way to see Maguda.
She watched the man enter her cavern, noting the flicker of fear in his eyes as he skirted the
spot where the dead thief lay. Her voice halted the eldest brother even before he reached the
throne. "Tell me of thy visit to Veron market fair. What news of Comte Bregon? Think hard
and speak true, Rawth!"
The eldest brother of the Razan, Rawth, made his report. "I never saw the old man, they say
he never leaves the house."
Maguda let out a hiss of exasperation. "I know that, but did any come or go from there, new
faces, strangers?"
Rawth shook his head. "Only some young 'uns, who were arrested for not paying their toll and
for Unlicenced trading."
Maguda's fingernails rattled as she smote the throne arm. "Tell me of them! Didst thou not
hear me say I want to hear all?"
Rawth had not heard his sister say any such thing, but he was not prepared to argue—he had
seen what happened to any who contradicted Maguda. "I saw three of them being led off by
the guards. They are probably in the dungeons now. Two of them were boys, one about
fourteen summers, light-haired, blue-eyed, the other about the same age, handsome, Spanish-
looking. The girl looked older than the boys, but not by much— she was of gypsy blood, I
think. A pleasant singer she was, I heard her sing. She was on the house steps, drumming up
trade for the Spanish boy to make likenesses of folk."
He stood silent as Maguda mused aloud. "A facemaker, eh? What of the other boy, the blue-
eyed one?"
Rawth shrugged. "Oh, him, he did little but stand around with his dog—"
Maguda interrupted her brother. "Dog? Ye said nothing of a dog. What manner of animal was
it, tell me!"
Rawth described Ned. "Of the breed they call Labrador. A big creature, black 'twas. Why do
ye ask?"
She silenced him with a wave of her hand. "A black dog, that could be an omen. Send
watchers to wait outside the wall of Veron until these young ones are released. I need to know
more about them, which direction they go in. Leave me now, I need to be alone, to think."
When Rawth had departed, Maguda took up a staff and rose from her throne. Leaning heavily
on the staff, she visited each of the stone idols around the cavern's edge, throwing coloured
incense upon the fires at the feet of the statues and muttering to herself as the smoke billowed
up to thicken beneath the high ceiling. After a while she went back to the throne. Using a
human skull on the seat beside her as a centrepiece, Maguda Razan cast bones, pebbles and
striped stone fragments over the grisly crown of the skull. Watching which way they fell, she
chanted in a high, singsong voice,
"Earth and water, wind and fire,
Speak to me as I desire.
Take mine eyes beyond this place,
Show to me each stranger's face.
Spirits of the deep and dark,
This Razan hath served thee true,
Open up their hearts to me,
Say what secrets I may see,
I who bind my life to you!"
She sat awhile, contemplating the skull and its surrounding jumble of rocks and bone, her
eyes closed, swaying slightly. Then Maguda Razan emitted a low moan, building up into a
shriek like that of a stricken animal. It echoed round the bowels of the mountain and its caves,
bringing Razan tribal members, both male and female. They halted at the cavern entrance,
watching fearfully as Maguda arose from the steps where she had fallen from her throne.
There was vexation and rage in her voice as she screeched at them.
"Go, all of ye! Seek out those who were imprisoned at Veron. Capture them, the two boys,
one dark, one fair, the girl and the black dog. Bring them back here to me, I command ye!"
Staggering back up to the throne, she seated herself, waiting until the clatter of departing feet
retreated into silence. Petulance and ill temper showed in her sneer. Unable to bear looking
upon her equipment of sorcery, Maguda swept it away. Skull, stones and bones tumbled down
the stairs. Landing upright, the skull lay grinning sightlessly up at her. Maguda spat at it. Her
vision had been thwarted. She had been granted a glimpse of the Flying Dutchman—but only
a glimpse. The sight of evil she delighted revelling in had been cut short. The fair-skinned
boy, he who owned the black dog—she would see all of the Dutchman in his eyes. Maguda
Razan quivered with anticipation. She would bring the boy under her power when she had him
alone, and then ... then.
Rain began falling from an overcast sky on the afternoon of the fair's end. Folk began packing
up stalls and wares to leave early before a downpour set in. Hidden beneath hooded cloaks
and equipped with packs of food, Ben and his friends stood at the grilled gate by the tunnel
door.
Comte Vincente Bregon gave Ned a final pat, and kissed Karay's cheek and embraced the two
boys. "Go now, young friends, this rain will provide cover for you. Garath, take them as far as
the gates—you know what to do. Nobody must know you were my guests and not prisoners.
Let us hope when we meet again the sun will be shining and we will be smiling. May the
Lord protect and keep you from harm!"
Not many people lingered to see them marched to the gates by the good blacksmith, though
the few who were witness to the scene saw Garath crack his whip over the heads of the freed
prisoners and warn them sternly, "Gypsies, thieves, be off with you! Thank your lucky stars
my master was in a lenient mood. Go on, get out of Veron! If you are ever seen within the
walls again, you will be tied to a cart and whipped all the way to the Spanish border!"
Ned barked as Garath cracked the whip several times, then the big black dog hurried out of
the village in the wake of his companions.
Ben squinted his eyes against the increasing rain as he looked toward the mountains. "We'd
best cut off southeast through the forested slopes. It'll give us some protection from this
weather!"
Thunder rumbled in the distance as they squelched off across the grassy slopes outside the
walls of Veron. Dominic looked back at the remainder of the market traders setting off in
other ways to go to their homes.
Karay called out to him, "Come on, Facemaker, keep up! Don't be lagging behind!"
As he caught up with the others, the girl gave him a scathing glance. "What were you gaping
at those bumpkins for—fresh faces to sketch? You might as well draw pictures of turnips as
of those tight-fisted clods!"
Dominic noticed that Ned was watching the departing traders, too. "You'd do well to take a
lesson from Ned and me. Take a peek at those folk yourself, see how many are watching us,
and then tell me: How many of them are ordinary people, and how many are Razan spies,
watching which way we're headed?"
Ned passed Ben a thought. "Wide aw
ake, mate, that's me and Dominic. Bet you never thought
of that!"
Ben answered his friend's message aloud. "Good thinking, Dominic. Perhaps we'd best go
another way, just to mislead them."
On Ben's advice, they cut off at a tangent that led away from the forested mountain foothills.
It was late afternoon before the coast was clear. Lightning flashes lit the gloomy landscape,
and thunder boomed closer, as Karay halted at a swollen stream that threaded its way out of
the woods and the high country.
"I don't know if we'd leave much trail in the rain, but no one would be able to track us through
running water. Let's wade through this stream, up into the woods."
The three friends went knee-deep in the icy cold waters, holding hands to stay upright.
Ned followed, grumbling thoughtfully. "Huh, rained on from above and soaked from below.
I've seen better days for trekking. At least the rain forests in South America were warm. What
d'you say, mate?"
Ben gripped the black Labrador's collar, assisting him. "Aye, nice muddy rivers full of snakes,
with all manner of insects biting and stinging and tickling. Piranha fish, too, oh for the good
old days. Would you trade them for this?"
Ned looked mournfully up at his friend. "Point taken!"
At twilight, hauling themselves gratefully out of the stream, they entered the trees. Karay sat
down and examined her feet. "Just look at these toes, they're blue and numb from the cold,
and wrinkled like raisins!"
Dominic chuckled. "Well, it was your idea. Up you come m'lady, let's find somewhere warm
and dry. Steady on, Ned, d'you have to shake yourself all over us?"
Ned actually winked at Ben. "Bet you wish you could dry yourself like this. Us hairy old dogs
have an advantage over you pale, thin-skinned humans. Superior breeding, y'know."
Ben tweaked his dog's ear. "Oh, I see, then I don't suppose a superior creature like you will
bother sitting around a warm fire—built by us measly humans of course?"
Apart from the constant spatter of rainfall on the treetop canopy, the forest was silent and
depressingly gloomy, thickly carpeted in loam and pine needles. Hardly any rain penetrated
the arboreal thickness. It was Ned who found a good spot to make camp for the night. He
bounded off through the trees and returned with his tongue lolling as he passed on the
message to Ben. "Haha, at least we'll be dry until morning, I've found a great place! Follow
me, oh weakly fellow, I'll show you. Oh, and if you humans make a fire, I may do you the
honour of sitting by it."
It was a deep cleft in a big rocky outcrop. Ben patted his dog affectionately. "Well done,
mate. It's practically a cave!"
Dominic found some dry, dead pine needles, and setting flint to the steel of his knife, he
coaxed a fire into life by blowing gently on the tinder. He peered at the rock walls. "Artists
were here long before us. Look!"
Crude representations of dancing people were drawn upon the rough rock walls in black, red
and ochre, stick-legged men, women and children dancing around what appeared to be a fire.
Karay piled dead wood on the flames, commenting, "I saw a cave like this once, in the
D'Aubrac Mountains. A gypsy woman said the drawings were more than a thousand years old,
done by tribes who were shepherds and charcoal burners. They used to live in places like
these."
As evidence they found a heap of charcoal at the cave's narrow end. Ben and Karay piled it on
the fire. It gave out a good heat and glow once it began burning. Dominic spread their cloaks
on nearby rocks to dry out. Warmth seeped through their bodies, steam rising from their hair.
Ben opened one of the sacks and doled out bread, smoked ham and cheese, and also a flask of
pale wine laced with water.
As they ate, Dominic pointed to the wall drawings in the flickering glow. "See how the
shadows play across those pictures— you'd think the people were actually dancing!"
A noise at the entrance caused Ned to stiffen, and his hackles rose as he growled. Ben passed
him an urgent thought. "What is it, Ned, what's out there?"
Glowering toward the entrance and baring his teeth, Ned replied. "A wild boar. The scent of
our food must have attracted it. Maybe it lives here now, who knows? I'll chase it!"
Karay whispered to Ben. "Something's upsetting Ned!"
Ben caught a glimpse of narrow, savage eyes at the entrance. "I think it's a wild boar, Ned'll
send him on his way."
"No, keep hold of him!" Dominic hissed. "Have you seen the tusks on those things? That boar
would injure a dog badly. Better leave it to me."
He chose a thick burning pine branch from the fire and dashed toward the entrance, shouting,
"Yaaaah! Gerroutofit!"
The boar grunted and snorted, half turning. When Dominic was quite close to the beast, he
lashed out, striking it several hard blows with the flaming brand. The boar squealed and ran
off, leaving behind an acrid smell of burnt hair. Dominic flung the blazing wood after it, still
shouting. "Yaaaah! That'll give you a hot bottom! Go on, leave us alone!"
Karay looked at him with a new respect. "That was a brave thing to do. I'd run a mile from a
wild boar!"
The facemaker shrugged. "What I did was what the villagers used to do when the old boar
wandered into our settlement in Sabada."
Ned remained awake on watch that night, wary that the boar would return. Sometime after
midnight, the rain ceased. Inside the cave, the fire sank to glowing embers. Ben was awakened
by his dog's quiet whimpers in the oppressive silence. He stroked the Labrador's flank. "Are
you alright, mate?"
Ned licked the boy's hand. "I must have dozed off for a while, Ben. I could swear I saw the
faces of Vanderdecken and his crew out there among the trees, watching us."
The boy scratched the soft fur under his dog's chin. "It's just tiredness, Ned. Have a sleep. I'll
keep watch. Though I'm sure Vanderdecken couldn't follow us here—he's bound to the seas
by heaven's curse. But I know what you mean, I was having a few dreams like that myself
before you woke me. Go on, take a nap, try to dream of more pleasant things."
Ned settled his chin on his front paws, letting his eyes close. "Just as you say, Ben, but I don't
like this area, and I feel there's more to come before we find the Razan. Oh, there's no use
trying to think different, mate. Don't forget, I can read your thoughts, and they tell me you're
thinking the same thing. You're scared—me too! We both are. These forests and mountains—
there's an eerie feel about them. It's like something we've never come across."
Ben watched the black Labrador as sleep overcame him. He knew, with an awful sense of
foreboding, that Ned was right.
20
DAWN'S FIRST FEEBLE LIGHT CREPT INTO THE cave as Ned lay on guard near the
entrance. The black Labrador was in a peculiar state of semiwakefulness, with snatches of
dream still hovering about his mind. A voice that he knew was the angel's recited distantly to
him.
" 'Tis thou who must show the way, when visions of evil arise. Others may see what ye
cannot, So be guided by thine own eyes."
Another voice chimed in. "Who's that? Come forward and be recognised!"
Ned woke immediately, knowing that the second voice was no dream. Th
ankfully, it was far
enough away for only a dog to hear. Ben, Karay and Dominic were still asleep. Ned slipped
out to investigate as yet another voice reached his ears.
"Put up your club, 'tis only me— Cutpurse the clown!"
Shuffling through the undergrowth on his stomach, Ned moved noiselessly forward until he
found the source of the voices.
A group of ten men, clad in gypsy rags, all well armed with clubs, knives and muskets, were
watching a man emerge from the trees. With the group were a ferocious-looking mastiff dog
and a brown bear, both wearing spiked collars and long iron-chain leashes to restrain them.
Ned's gaze settled on the fellow who was joining them. It was the fat rogue who had
imprisoned Karay. He limped miserably out of the tree cover, leaning heavily on a homemade
crutch. The leader of the band, a mean-faced villain with a marked squint, sneered mockingly
at the newcomer. "Hah, what happened to you, Cutpurse?"
Wincing as he laid aside his crutch, he leaned against a tree and related his tale bitterly. "I
thought I'd struck lucky last week. I captured a young girl—a singer she was, with a good
voice. But she had us both taken by the constables, for stealin'. We broke out o' prison
together an' stole a cart. Then d'ye know what the young hussy did? She stole the cart an' ran
away from me!"
Ligran Razan, the group's leader and the second eldest brother of Maguda, sniggered
scornfully at Cutpurse's plight. "Broke your leg, too, did she, ye fat greasy fool!"
Cutpurse pouted sulkily. " 'Twas my ankle, not the leg. I fell and broke it when I was chasin'
her."
Ligran eyed Cutpurse with disgust. "How you ever came to be part of the Razan, I'll never
know. Pick up that crutch an' let's get going. Better shift yourself, we aren't stoppin' for any
who don't keep up. Stop pullin' faces and whining! Come on, blubbernose!"
Ligran headed off, leaning backward against the iron chain he was grasping as the dog pulled
on it, straining forward. Three others flung more chains around the bear. They dragged the
wretched creature along with them, striking it with long sticks as it made piteous, muted
noises of distress.
Ned waited until the coast was clear, then dashed back to the cave and nosed Ben into
wakefulness. The dog imparted his mental message of all he had witnessed. Ben thought about
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