The House Called Hadlows

by Victoria Clayton

  ‘We must be silent for a while,’ said Hermes, ‘and concentrate our energies on moving quickly. It will become very cold.’

  ‘I’m feeling pretty cold already,’ said Sebastian.

  And as he spoke the wind rushed in from the east and the snow began to fall in earnest. The landscape was obliterated by a uniform whiteness and Sebastian’s face and hands were stiff with cold. The flakes clung to his hair and jacket and he had to keep blinking his eyes as the wind drove the snow in blinding flurries into his face. Hermes strode on beside him, his helmet encrusted with ice. The snakes entwined round his staff crept round his neck for warmth and lay like a white scarf. The snow now came up to their knees and several times Sebastian stumbled into the enveloping drifts, to be helped out again by Hermes, who smiled at him encouragingly through frozen lips.

  ‘The worst is over now,’ he said as he helped Sebastian to his feet for the third time.

  And it did seem that the wind was dropping slightly and the snow was falling less heavily. They walked on together, still too cold to talk, but gradually the sun became apparent in the white sky and the snow stopped. Sebastian saw that they were now surrounded by great mountains, their sides scored with purple glaciers. The road was no longer there. Bare patches of earth began to appear through the snow and the flakes on his jacket turned to water and penetrated his clothing with a chilly dampness. Drops of water fell from the brim of Hermes’s helmet.

  ‘Spring has come,’ said Hermes, ‘and our journey is nearly over.’ He unwound the snakes from his neck and they crept back round his staff. ‘The earth-maiden, that is to say, Melissa, did me a great service while you were unconscious with fever.’

  And he told Sebastian of Melissa’s visit to Olympus.

  Sebastian listened to Hermes and saw the grass become green and small leaves appear on the trees. Flowers bloomed everywhere and streams of fresh water ran over the earth. The sun rose higher and dried Sebastian’s clothes. The grass grew long and corn-yellow. They came to a tunnel in the rocks and passed through. On the other side was a wide grassy plain, bordered with dark forests of fir trees.

  ‘Sebastian! Hallo!’ Melissa came running over the grass to meet them, Mantari at her heels.

  ‘Well,’ said Hermes. ‘This is the Overworld. Or a part of it. It did not take us too long, after all. Earth-maiden, have you news of Fandeagle?’

  ‘He has gone over the mountain to find his people. He told me to wait here for you and Sebastian. It’s at least an hour since I saw him. Mantari came along just a few minutes ago.’

  She bent to stroke the cat, who was eyeing the snakes on Hermes’s staff with disfavour.

  ‘Then we must hope he will return soon,’ said Hermes. ‘I do not like the aspect of the skies. If we can join the Elixir in time it may be possible to prevent —’

  He broke off and held up his hand for silence. A slight wind trembled in the conifers and a cloud drifted over the face of the sun. Then an absolute stillness fell all around them; not a bird sang, not a blade of grass stirred. The sky grew darker still and they became filled with an unspeakable dread. Then Mantari let out a low angry hiss. Slowly down the mountain towards the plain crept a black tide, a glistening sluggish flow of darkness, spreading itself over the ground and moving forward relentlessly. As it came, it bought with it an ache of despair and a stench of disease. ‘We are too late,’ said Hermes. ‘Now we must watch and wait.’ Through the forest ran a thread of light like a flowing stream, which moved down to meet the dark mass, and on to the plain burst a thousand tiny warriors holding spears of silver in their hands. They flung them up into the sky and they fell harsh as hail into the black tide. At once a thousand warriors, with eyes smouldering red like molten ore, sprang up with a roar. And into the hands of the tiny warriors came swords shining with light and they struck against the swords of darkness with a clang of steel, blow upon blow, might against might, until death. Up rose a great pall of smoke filled with the cries of anger and hatred and the groans of suffering. Many times the evil foe were driven back and slain to the ground by the fierce and agile Hasenfast, but always fresh enemies sprang up from the earth and in reprisal slew great numbers of them. Slowly the Hasenfast began to retreat to the forests and now they were noticeably fewer in number than their foe. Then a shadow drew close from the east and fell into a thousand pale drifting shapes, pouring into the plain and slaying without respite the pitiful army of the Overworld.

  ‘The lost souls!’ cried Hermes. ‘All Hell has been let loose. See the mischief-maker! He has come to gloat.’

  Over the field of the battle swept a chariot, drawn by a winged panther and in it sat a figure of crimson, whom Sebastian recognized only too well, thrashing the sky with a lash of fire and leaving a trail of smoke and sulphur wherever he passed.

  ‘Oh where is Fandeagle?’ cried Sebastian. ‘The Hasenfast are nearly spent. They cannot hold out much longer. I must go and help.’

  ‘Wait!’ said Hermes.

  And behind them there came the shrill call of trumpets and a great wind rose up, filled with the thunder of horses. Then they saw Fandeagle, mounted on a silver steed, carrying a banner with the sign of the rampant lion. And behind him rode the Elderfolk, their long hair streaming out in the wind, their swords unsheathed in their hands. Fandeagle flung something at Sebastian’s feet as he passed. It was Falcon’s sword. He drew it from its sheath and it sang and whistled above the noise of battle. The last of the Elderfolk reined in beside him. Sebastian thrust the Stone of Saturn into Melissa’s hands and then leapt up behind the rider and flew with them down on to the plain to fight until death. And now the noise became a deafening roar of battle cries and the shrieking and screaming of the wounded and the screech of metal upon metal. The smoke and dust lay as thick as a blanket and there was a stench of sweat and blood.

  Sebastian slashed and stabbed at the enemy like one possessed. Many times his sword bit into the hard flesh of the red-eyed ones and a spurt of green blood was flung high into the reeking air. A glancing blow from a warrior unhorsed him, as it cut deep into his leg. For a moment he lay helpless on the blood-soaked earth, at the mercy of a glittering knife and felt the breath of his enemy hot upon his face. The knife was raised to strike at his heart but there was a sudden yowl and a bundle of fire and fury, with a lashing orange tail, hurled itself at the red eyes and killed the evil warrior with one strike of its forepaws. Then the whiskered fury let out a loud mia-o-ow and flung itself into the midst of the enemy. Fast and furious was the battle, again and again rose up the hoards of black foe, again and again they were cut down. Over their heads the chariot circled and darts of flame scorched the earth and the flesh of the Elderfolk. Then into the battle came the Dawn-makers, the Moonshadows and the Stormbreakers and from the sky came down the Brightstars, pitting their courage and strength against the dark ones. But still the enemy came in from the east and outnumbered them. Slowly the races of the Overworld were driven back and back and soon their bodies were strewn thicker than stones on the seared and trampled earth.

  Melissa watched with anguish the desperate plight of their army as they fought and stabbed and cut at the ever-advancing foe.

  ‘I must go and fight. I can’t bear it, Hermes. Will you lend me your dagger?’

  Hermes shook his head. ‘Wait, earth maiden. There is one on our side still to come.’

  And then to their ears came the sound of thousands of voices, piercing the thunder of battle with a song of triumph, distant at first but flowing closer like a mighty storm. And then the hillside and the forest were moving with life and on to the plain came host upon host of slant-eyed blue and golden people, lithe as running water. And behind them came score upon score of people clothed in rushes and garlanded with water lilies.

  ‘The river-people!’ cried Melissa. ‘They will save us!’

  The river-people attacked in a frenzy of gleaming, rippling limbs and their bright swords drove through the enemy without arrest. Over their heads came a flight of b
irds, white swans, their long necks outstretched and their wings beating like a white sea. They fell upon the chariot and dealt blow upon blow at its inmate. He howled with rage and lashed the winged beast into flight. He soared off over the mountain and the sky turned yellow with his sulphurous fury.

  Now the smoke of battle lifted and the field was a-glitter with the shining limbs of the conquerors and the air ringing with the roar of triumph. And from the midst of the violence crept the dark warriors. They turned their backs on the fighting and ran as fast as they could drag their wounded bodies away to the mountain. And now the warriors began to lay down their arms and watch the black tide slip slowly back until it was no more than a dark line on the horizon. Then the sun burst from the clouds and a soft breeze dispersed the wisps of smoke and blew away the stench of disease and blood.

  Melissa was filled with joy and ran swiftly down on to the plain to find Sebastian and to help, if she could, to care for the wounded. But Hermes was there before her and as soon as he laid his hands on a wound it was instantly healed and the bearer felt no pain. For the dead he could do nothing. They were laid on wooden stretchers cut from the forest, to be carried back to their homes and to be honoured as brave warriors. Those left alive were exhausted but content, smiling at Melissa through the dirt and bloodstains smudged on their faces. And while mourning the loss of their friends, they rejoiced in their hearts at the victory. Hermes laid his healing hands on the few servants of the Evil One who had remained alive but had been abandoned by their comrades in the flight to the mountain. But as soon as they were healed they sprang up and darted off with an angry hiss and menacing words. No one attempted to stop them: they had all fought enough to last them for several lifetimes. At last Melissa saw Sebastian coming out of the forest. He was limping badly from the deep gash in his leg. His clothes were spattered with green blood and there was a look of pain on his face. Melissa fell silent when she saw him so much older suddenly, death in his eyes and on the bloodstained sword which he held in his hand.

  ‘I was just coming to find you,’ he said quietly. ‘You’d better go and look in there. Follow the path, it’s not far. I saw him slip away when it was all over. They say that animals like to be alone —’ He broke off. ‘I’m sorry, Melissa.’ He gave her arm a little squeeze and limped quickly off to where Hermes was standing, an uncomfortable pricking behind his eyelids and a lump like a rock in his throat.

  Melissa crept into the dark forest, a dreadful fear taking hold in her heart. Where the shadows deepened under the firs beside the path, there was a darker shadow. She crept closer. Something lay there, something orange and very, very still. It was —

  ‘Mantari!’ Melissa’s cry, terrible in its pain, was heard by all who stood with Hermes on the battlefield.

  In the dark forest the wind sobbed and sighed and even the trees and shadows seemed to weep with pity. But she was pale and dry-eyed, burning with the anguish of her loss.

  Hermes stood for a moment in thought. Then he spoke, ‘Brave warriors: many friends have you lost today and long will they be mourned. There is none amongst them who does not deserve the greatest honours for his valour. But the earth-maiden has risked much to help you and she is young. What do you say? Is it just that I should end her grief if Zeus will give me aid?’

  ‘Yes!’ came the cry with one accord from the lips of all. Fandeagle thumped Sebastian on the back, evidently too moved to speak.

  Hermes raised his head and moved his lips soundlessly. Then he began to walk towards the forest and the crowd watched him go, every heart filled with a secret delight. He entered the forest and when he saw the girl standing in the shadows, her eyes burning in her pale face, clutching the bundle of orange fur he was filled with pity. She raised her arms towards him and held out her cat. Her lips trembled but she could not speak. He laid Mantari’s body gently on the ground and then took her hand and led her out of the forest. Melissa saw the warriors standing in a silent group, watching her. They were smiling. She knew that they must be overjoyed to have won the battle. Despite the heavy losses, it was a glorious day in the history of the Overworld. She wanted to be as brave as they were. She tried to smile but her eyes filled with tears and her heart broke. A terrible despair engulfed her and she wept with grief for her little cat.

  Then a great cry went up from the crowd and through her tears she saw that they were all waving at her and pointing at something. She turned. At the edge of the forest stood a lion, shaking his golden mane in the sun. He began to roar. The trees bent to the ground in the blast and the earth shook. Then he fixed Melissa for one moment with an unwinking stare from his yellow eyes, turned and was gone.

  WHAT Melissa said to Hermes as they stood in the shadows at the edge of the forest, after the lion had gone, no one knows. But there is no doubt that at that moment a firm bond of understanding grew between them.

  ‘Now,’ said Hermes, when all were once more gathered around him. ‘We must delay no longer. Earth-maiden, place the elements of the Elixir on the ground just there. Sebastian, give me your sword.’

  Melissa took the elements from her pocket and laid them carefully down where Hermes had told her. Sebastian wiped the blade of his sword on the grass, then placed the hilt in Hermes’ hand.

  ‘Now, Fandeagle.’

  Fandeagle stepped forward and knelt on the ground, bending his head over the elements. Melissa gave a shudder of horror when she realized what was about happen.

  Hermes lifted the sword high.

  Then there was a crash of thunder and a jet of flame spurted up from the distant mountain. A stream of lava flowed down its side like a grey skin. A dark shadow fell across the plain.

  ‘Zabdureth!’ whispered the crowd and shrank back in fear.

  Towering above them was a being of horror and darkness. His head was a skull, bleached and grinning. A pale flame burned in each eye socket. On his massive shoulder sat a black vulture.

  A dreadful laughter filled the silent plain.

  ‘Yes, Zabdureth!’ came the slow hiss. ‘I have come at last, so that the Overworld may look on my face for the first time. And the last. Now I shall destroy you.’

  He stretched out a hand of shadow towards them. The air thickened with the odour of death. All but Hermes sank on their knees in terror. He stood upright and unafraid for he was an immortal and none could touch him.

  ‘Zeus!’ he cried. ‘Give me leave to intervene!’

  ‘No, Hermes,’ cried a voice behind him. ‘You are an Olympian and forbidden to take life. But I am not. And I have waited many years for this moment. Now I shall have my revenge!’

  And between the frightened warriors and the dark shadow strode Pan, in his pride and strength towering as high as Zabdureth himself.

  Zabdureth hissed. ‘I shall finish you yet.’

  He threw a shadow over Pan and instantly the giant’s limbs seemed to shrink and tremble and tiny blisters ran over his skin. Pan groaned aloud and stumbled.

  ‘Now, Fandeagle. Now!’ cried Hermes and he brought the blade of the sword down on Fandeagle’s neck. Blood, blue as a sapphire, flowed over the elements of the Elixir and soaked into the ground. Melissa hid her face.

  Zabdureth faltered and drew back. At once Pan drew himself up and threw up his hand to the sky.

  ‘Apollo, I command you. Give us light!’

  And slowly the sun drew closer to the earth and sent down its fierce rays on to the shadow. The sky grew white with heat and the shadow began to dissolve.

  ‘Stronger yet!’ cried Pan.

  The light blazed on every quarter of the Overworld and pierced the shadow until it was no more. The skull toppled and fell to the ground. The vulture spread its wings and flew off, screeching, over the mountain. Pan leaned over the grinning skull and bright water dripped from his fingers into the sockets of the eyes. The flames hissed and died.

  Then Hermes breathed on the sapphire blood. The fire in the casket smouldered and grew bright. Slowly the heart of ice melted. The crimson stone
became molten and mingled with the blood. The sky grew black as night, filled with stars. The moon and the sun slowly drew together and became one. A fine rain fell on the earth and turned the flames to silver. A great storm blew the fire into a raging pyramid of flame. And then, from its centre, stepped a man, his silver hair streaming in the wind. His exquisite beauty was surpassed only by that which he held in his hand: a shining sphere, throbbing with power and life against the black night.

  ‘Fandeagle!’ came the cry, as one and all knelt to the ground. ‘The Elixir of Life!’

  Melissa closed her bedroom window. She felt faint, as if her blood had drained away and her knees were trembling. What was it that she had seen? A woman, singing in the garden. And then, slowly, her memory returned to her, and she remembered everything, from the moment of her arrival at Hadlows to when Hermes had struck the ground with his staff for the last time and the Overworld had disappeared.

  She ran into Sebastian’s room. He lay sleeping, a hunched shape beneath the bedclothes, just as he had been on the first morning of their stay at Hadlows. This time, though, he woke of his own accord.

  ‘Goodness, what time is it?’ he mumbled sleepily as he sat up and stretched himself. ‘I just had the most extraordinary dream. You’d never believe —’ He stopped and rubbed his eyes. ‘Just a minute, though. Was it a dream?’ And then he remembered, just as Melissa had done a few moments before. ‘No! It really happened!’

  ‘Yes. It really did. I know, I can hardly believe it myself. Come on, let’s go and have some breakfast. I’m feeling hungry.’ They went down to the morning-room. The table was set for breakfast but there was no sign of Fandeagle.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Melissa. ‘I expect he’s gone back to being Prince of the Elderfolk, now. Well, I’m awfully pleased for him, but I’m going to miss him terribly. Oh, I wish it weren’t over now after all, even though it was frightening at times. Think how awful it will be to have to leave Hadlows and go back to London.’