The Starthorn Tree

by Kate Forsyth

  ‘Mags?’ Pedrin asked, getting up. ‘What’s going on?’

  He stepped closer and realised, with a sudden upsurge of anger, that the little girl was hiding Briony’s sack and his saddlebags beneath her. The others were all sitting up, rubbing their eyes, a little murmur of surprise and concern running between them.

  ‘Naught,’ Mags said shortly. ‘That bad-tempered goat of yours just rammed me over. Ow! His horns are sharp. I’m covered in bruises.’

  ‘What you a-doing with me saddlebags?’ Pedrin asked sharply.

  She looked surprised. ‘Me? Naught. I must’ve tripped and fallen on them.’

  ‘But they were over there before, beside me. What are they doing all the way over here?’

  ‘How would I know? That billy-goat gruff of yours probably dragged them off, a-trying to get at the food inside. You know what goats are like, they’ll eat shoes if they can’t get aught else. He was probably having a chew on the leather.’

  Pedrin reached down and seized the sack and the saddlebags.

  ‘I said not to let that dirty ragamuffin accompany us,’ Lisandre said piously. ‘Of course she was only waiting for an opportunity to rob us.’

  Mags glowered at her from under the tangle of brown hair. ‘Warn’t,’ she said rather weakly.

  ‘Look, Lisandre, your dress!’ Pedrin cried, pulling out handfuls of shimmering red silk. ‘And she’s got your night-light and all your rings too.’

  Lisandre clapped a hand on the empty pocket of her cloak, colour flaming in her cheeks. ‘Why, you little sneak-thief!’

  ‘Look, Lisandre, your bag of money too.’ Suddenly he gave a cry of outrage and pulled out a handful of loose coins. ‘The coins you gave me!’ Pedrin clasped his silver crown close to his chest. ‘They were in me pocket. How did she get them out without me feeling her?’

  ‘Sticky fingers,’ Mags said with a grin, wiggling her fingers.

  ‘Look!’ Durrik cried, rifling through one of the saddlebags. ‘All our food, our fish and the bread we baked and all the nuts and berries. And my bell! I can’t believe she took papa’s bell.’

  ‘Mirabel!’ Briony snatched up her little ragdoll and cradled her tightly, gazing at Mags with huge accusing eyes.

  ‘That’s me good knife. The rotten little thief.’

  They were all standing around the culprit now, exclaiming as they pulled out their most precious belongings. Mags lay back on her elbows resignedly.

  ‘I told you we should not have trusted her,’ Lisandre said.

  ‘Mags, why would you do such a thing?’ There was deep reproach in Briony’s voice.

  Mags shrugged.

  ‘Is that why you followed us around, because you wanted to rob us?’ Durrik sounded hurt.

  ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Why else?’

  ‘I told you—’ Lisandre began.

  ‘Oh, shut up,’ Pedrin said. He tossed her back her jewelled egg and dropped his own coins back into his pocket. Scowling, he said, ‘So what are we meant to do with her? There’s not a reeve for miles, nor any stocks!’

  ‘She should have her hand cut off for stealing from one of the Ziv,’ Lisandre said coldly.

  ‘Oh, nah,’ Briony said involuntarily.

  Mags went rather white but said defiantly, ‘I suppose you’ll cut it off yourself? Starkin scum!’

  ‘We’ll just have to tell her to get lost,’ Pedrin said in disgust.

  ‘But what would prevent her from following us and stealing from us again?’ Lisandre demanded.

  ‘We could tie her up to a tree,’ Durrik suggested.

  ‘But these forests are so dangerous,’ Briony protested, at the same time as Mags said, ‘Leeblimey, I’ll be monster bait!’

  ‘What if we get Briony t’spin us a rope from a bit of thread? That way it’ll only last long enough for us to get away.’

  ‘Long enough for a gibgoblin to flay the skin from me bones,’ Mags said.

  ‘We’ll hide our trail so she can’t follow us,’ Pedrin said.

  Mags laughed mockingly. ‘Leeblimey, I’ve been following you lot for days and you never knew it, what makes you think you’d be able t’stop me now?’

  Pedrin shot an accusatory glance at Briony. ‘I thought you were able to sense that sort of thing?’

  Briony flushed and dropped her eyes. ‘Many creatures live in this forest and they all watch us pass by. I can’t always tell what ’tis that watches, you know.’

  ‘I must thank you for all the food you left out,’ Mags said with an impudent grin. ‘Saved me from having to hunt many a hungry night.’

  ‘I thought it was Sedgely eating the milk and honey,’ Pedrin objected.

  ‘Not if I could get there first,’ Mags grinned.

  Only then did Pedrin realise the old man was nowhere to be seen. Suspicion flared instantly. ‘A-talking about Sedgely, where is he?’

  He saw his dismay and chagrin mirrored in Lisandre’s and Durrik’s faces, but Briony just gave a little shrug, saying, ‘I imagine he’s a-swimming. He does most mornings, hadn’t you noticed?’

  ‘Nah, I hadn’t,’ Pedrin snapped. ‘Not being a wildkin, I try to mind me own business.’

  He saw hurt in Briony’s face and felt immediate remorse, but the curly-haired girl had moved away, her face downcast, and was bending to pick up their belongings spilt all over the ground.

  Water splashed behind them. Pedrin whirled, his hand automatically flying to his slingshot. Sedgely was rising out of the mist-wreathed water, shaking drops from his matted beard and hair like a dog after a bath. He was covered in gingery-white hair, all plastered against his pale, freckled skin.

  ‘Moon-cursers coming,’ the old man said without preamble. ‘We’d best get a-moving, they’re hot on our trail.’

  Mags slammed her hand into the ground. ‘Chtatchka shake it!’

  The others looked at each other in shock and dismay. To call on the god of earthquakes and thunder was to call on trouble, and never done lightly. Mags looked like a little black thundercloud herself, glowering with rage. ‘Blast that billy-goat! If it hadn’t been for him, I would’ve been clear away, me pockets filled with coins and jewels and a swishy red dress too. That would’ve shown him I was as good a bandit as any of those bully-boys!’

  She leapt to her feet. ‘Shake a leg, you lot! I’m not having me father a-getting hold of me loot.’

  ‘Your father?’ Pedrin asked rather stupidly.

  ‘Yeah, it’ll be him, Chtatchka blast him! And just when I was a-getting ready to go home of me own accord, with me pockets bulging with booty. Come on, what’re you all a-waiting for, he’ll be here in half-a-crack!’

  She began to throw their possessions at them, dancing up and down on the spot, and urging them to hurry. They did not hesitate, cramming their things into their bags and setting off up the path, Sedgely struggling to drag his clothes on over his wet limbs.

  ‘You mean your father is an outlaw?’ Pedrin asked, having to jog to keep up with the quick pace the little girl set.

  She laughed mirthlessly. ‘He’s the outlaw, hayhead! Diamond Joe himself.’

  ‘Diamond Joe?’

  ‘Yeah, are you deaf?’

  ‘Jumping Jimjinny!’

  Unconsciously they all quickened their pace, looking about them for an escape route. The soaring trees crowded in close to the path, however, the spaces between their trunks crammed with ferns and brambles. The shrubbery sometimes leant so close they had to hold back branches for each other or duck under briars. Thundercloud raced ahead, his golden eyes glowering with pride and satisfaction, and Snowflake leapt behind him. Pedrin glanced back over his shoulder, and saw Sedgely close behind him, moving surprisingly quickly for such an old, bent man. Then, through the trees, some way back, Pedrin saw a group of big, hairy, dirty men, all bristling with weapons. A shout went up as they spotted him, and they broke into a run.

  ‘Come on!’ Pedrin shouted and took to his heels. Briony and Lisandre scrambled ahead, the little seamstress again c
arrying the heavy sack, with Mags disappearing into the green distance. Durrik swung his makeshift crutch furiously, racing after them. Suddenly his crutch slipped in the mud. He fell heavily, crying aloud. Pedrin dragged him up but Durrik could only hobble, his face twisting as he tried to keep back tears of pain. Pedrin swore and tried to help him along, but then they were surrounded by the bandits, all laughing and joking.

  ‘Where’s Maglen?’ one of the men cried. ‘Where’s me daughter?’

  Diamond Joe was not at all what Pedrin had expected. He was a slim, lithe figure, not much taller than Pedrin, with long dark hair tied back with a silver clasp and a long green coat with silver buttons. He wore black boots to above the knee, and carried a sword at his hip. A diamond glittered in his ear and on his thumb. As Pedrin stared and stammered, the sword flashed out, the point pressing against Pedrin’s throat.

  ‘Where’s me daughter?’ Diamond Joe said in icy tones. Wordlessly Pedrin pointed up the path.

  Diamond Joe jerked his head and half the men went hurrying on up the path, while Pedrin and Durrik stood close together, trying not to show their fear.

  Diamond Joe leant on his sword, looking the boys over with a rather puzzled frown on his face. ‘Now what do we have here?’ he mused.

  Assuming he did not expect an answer, the boys stayed silent.

  The goats had paused at the top of the path, looking back for their master. Seeing Pedrin held at sword point, Thundercloud and Snowflake came bounding back down the path, horns held low. One of the men shouted a warning and Diamond Joe wheeled, his sword flashing up. Pedrin cried out in horror and darted forward, but the goats avoided the sword gracefully, ramming two of the men and knocking them over.

  Diamond Joe dropped his sword in disgust, saying curtly, ‘You fools! Get up and catch those goats. To be floored by a nanny-goat!’

  Rubbing their posteriors ruefully, the two men got up and tried to catch the goats, who leapt about the rocks nimbly. Thundercloud knocked down one of the men again, but was caught by the deft throw of a lasso and dragged back to the bandits, tossing his horned head angrily and trying to twist away. Snowflake was caught as quickly, and they were lashed tightly to a low bough of a tree, the billy-goat still struggling and bleating with rage.

  Then they heard Lisandre scream. Her furious voice came closer and closer, saying, ‘Unhand me, you great lumbering oaf, you asinine fool. How dare you touch me! I shall have the skin flayed from your back. Unhand me, I say!’

  Pedrin could only hope the bandits did not speak Ziverian.

  A struggling Lisandre was unceremoniously dumped at Diamond Joe’s feet and he surveyed her with interest, one hand caressing his pointed black beard. Briony had been dropped as roughly. She crouched where she had landed, clutching her ragdoll close to her chest, her gaze fixed upon the ground.

  Then they heard Mags as she too was carried kicking and screaming down the path. ‘Put me down, you cabbage-head! Fish-breath! Frog-face! Put me down! Leeblimey, I’ll make you sorry.’ The man carrying her was stoically enduring her kicks and blows, but once he had deposited her at her father’s feet, he rubbed his bruises ruefully, saying, ‘’Tis a hellcat you’ve got yourself there, sir!’

  ‘So it seems,’ Diamond Joe replied coolly.

  He regarded Mags sternly as she leapt to her feet, crying, ‘How dare you set your bully-boys upon me, Pa! I’ll not—’

  ‘That’s enough out of you, Maglen,’ he snapped. To the surprise of the others, Mags fell silent, twisting her bare toe in the mud and regarding it unhappily. ‘How dare you disappear like that, a-wasting me time and the time of me men! You get back to camp before I give you a beating you’ll never forget.’

  Mags looked up, sulky and defiant. ‘I won’t!’

  ‘You will, young lady, believe me! I haven’t the time for this rubbish. There’s a starkin lord camped out only a few miles from here and he’s a-dripping with jewels. You should see the size of the diamond he’s a-wearing on his finger. I want that diamond and me men want his men’s weapons and no spoilt little girl is a-going to stop us a-getting them!’

  Lisandre exchanged quick glances of dismay with the other children from Levanna-On-The-Lake. Lord Zavion!

  Mags, not knowing or caring that the Regent of Estelliana was nearby, said sullenly, ‘Well, go and do your stupid robbery then. I’m a-doing just fine, thank you very much.’

  ‘Indeed? Is that so? You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards. And who are these raggle-taggle gypsies? What kind of company have you taken up with?’

  Lisandre had scrambled to her feet and was dusting off her mud-smeared pinafore but at this comment she turned crimson and said in a clear, ringing voice, ‘How dare you, sirrah! Do you not know I am one of the Ziv?’

  Pedrin rolled his eyes. ‘That’s torn it,’ he whispered to Durrik.

  Diamond Joe stared at her incredulously. She stared back at him, her chin raised proudly. Suddenly the bandit chief began to laugh. After a moment all the other bandits joined in, slapping their legs, holding their sides, wiping their eyes.

  ‘How dare you mock me!’ Lisandre cried. Diamond Joe only laughed louder. ‘You imbecilic oaf, how dare you laugh! When my brother has woken, he and his legions will march into this forest with spears and torches and he will drag you back to the castle in chains. You will beg him for mercy but his retribution will be swift and terrible. Your head will be impaled upon the battlements as a warning to all others that those of the Ziv will not be mocked and reviled!’

  Diamond Joe managed to catch his breath. ‘I think she means it, boyos!’ he cried. ‘A starkin princess walks among us!’ He spat into the bushes and said contemptuously, ‘Starkin scum!’

  She bit her lip, and stared at him haughtily. He walked around her, looking her up and down insolently. ‘Well, milady, you must forgive me surprise. One doesn’t expect to meet a lady of the Ziv here, in the depths of the Perilous Forest.’ He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, then waved it up and down her person. ‘Nor is this what one expects a lady of the Ziv to wear.’ He smiled and all his men sniggered. Lisandre’s face scorched with colour. She clenched her hands in the mud-streaked cloth of the shabby old pinafore but did not drop her eyes.

  ‘Well, well, very interesting. I can almost forgive you for a-running away, Maglen, when you find yourself such charming and—dare I say it?—potentially profitable company.’

  ‘I found her, she’s mine,’ Mags said flatly. ‘If you hadn’t come a-barging in where you warn’t wanted, I would’ve made off with all her jewels and money and her red swishy dress too.’

  ‘Jewels? Money? All very nice but your vision is a-lacking, I’m a-feared, Magsie me darling. Come, let us head back to camp and think about how we can best turn this to our advantage. No doubt the new Regent of Estelliana will be anxious indeed to clasp your charming young friend to his bosom once more. Anxious enough to pay a pretty penny for her!’

  ‘I would not want to allow you to raise your hopes unnecessarily,’ Lisandre said sweetly. ‘Lord Zavion would not care if I never returned home!’

  ‘Well, that too can be arranged if the price is right,’ Diamond Joe replied, striding down the path, the children and goats pushed and prodded along behind him. Lisandre faltered to a stop, her cheeks whitening, but the bandits only hustled her along, growling at her to shake a leg.

  Mags skipped at her father’s side. ‘I found her, Pa, the jewelled egg is mine. And the red dress.’

  ‘Of course, me dear,’ he replied urbanely. ‘If all goes according to plan, you can have as many dresses as you want.’

  ‘And her rings.’

  ‘Rings, brooches, bracelets, you can have a tiara if you wish, Magsie.’

  ‘Bully beef!’ Mags said in delight.

  TWENTY-THREE

  The children sat disconsolately within a cage woven from saplings and willow twigs, picking at a mess of boiled potatoes, and watching the bandits celebrate. Roaring with laughter, singing drunkenly, t
he bandits toasted each other with great tankards of apple-ale and stuffed themselves with roast pork. Mags was mincing around the camp in Lisandre’s high-heeled ruby shoes, the red silk swishing about her. She wore all of the starkin girl’s rings and the jewelled christening egg hung from her girdle.

  ‘She had better not tear my dress,’ Lisandre said savagely. ‘Just wait until I get my hands on her! I’d wring her neck . . . if only she’d wash it first!’

  Despite himself, Pedrin laughed. Lisandre looked at him, surprised, then reluctantly smiled.

  ‘All we can do is hope that Sedgely will come and rescue us,’ Pedrin said. ‘He wouldn’t just disappear and do naught to help, would he? I can’t believe he managed to slip away like that. One minute he was there, the next he was just gone.’

  ‘I’m sure Sedgely will come,’ Briony said. ‘Once all the bandits have gone to sleep, he’ll find a way to get us out.’

  ‘I can’t believe that little brat took me silver crown again,’ Pedrin said bitterly. ‘The first silver crown I’ve ever had and a cheeky good-for-naught bandit girl has to go a-stealing it.’

  ‘When I have woken my brother I will give you fifty silver crowns,’ Lisandre said grandly. ‘And a bag of gold too.’

  ‘Forgive me if I don’t hold me breath,’ Pedrin answered sourly.

  Lisandre thrust out her jaw and looked away. Pedrin, with an expression of intense dislike, picked up a long droopy curl of potato peel and threw it out through the bars of the cage. ‘I hate boiled potatoes.’

  ‘Who doesn’t?’ Lisandre snapped.

  ‘What potatoes look alike?’ said Durrik.

  ‘All potatoes,’ Lisandre answered crossly, pushing her plate away.

  ‘Nah, imitators,’ Durrik replied solemnly. ‘Get it? Imitaters.’

  ‘Yes, I get it,’ she answered wearily.

  ‘And what potatoes stir up trouble?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Agitators. Get it?’

  ‘Yes, I get it,’ she replied, smiling despite herself. ‘Very funny.’

  ‘And what potatoes never make up their minds?’

  ‘Why don’t you tell me?’