by Karen Hughes
Indie pulled her cloak around her face and moved through the servants, past the horses, through the lines of soldiers. By the time she reached Mugadi, he was waiting for her.
‘I knew you’d come back,’ he said.
She glared at him. ‘Where is Jabar?’
Mugadi tilted his head. Jabar came forward, seated on a large black horse. His bandages were gone; his face clear. He met Indie’s incredulous eyes and looked away.
‘He played his part very well,’ said Mugadi, smugly. ‘I didn’t think he could do it. He said he could bring you to the mountains and make you stay with us. Even when you escaped, he said you would come back.’
‘But he was hurt …’ said Indie.
‘A little, perhaps. But a Dasa Warrior does not feel pain.’
She stared at him, her face white. ‘But he was badly hurt. There was so much blood.’
‘Yes,’ said Mugadi. ‘Pig’s blood. Nice and red. We were laughing at you as we wiped it off. Jabar said you were the most stupid girl he had ever met.’
‘You’re lying,’ said Indie. ‘What about his mother? He said you left her to die. And why did he take us to the shaman? Why did he help us escape?’
‘The shaman is a useless old man. There was no harm in letting you see him.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
Mugadi laughed. He pulled the reins and urged his horse forward.
Indie ran to Jabar’s horse. She grabbed at his reins. ‘I came back to help you,’ she said. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. ‘You said – ’
‘I lied,’ said Jabar. He sat straight in his saddle. ‘From the moment I saw you in the forest, I lied to you.’
‘But your mother –’
‘My mother is dead. She was never locked in the castle gardens. I made that all up. She was sick. And there was no medicine and no food because the soldiers from Ballyndor were burning everything.’
‘Aunt Sofia ...'
‘I have hated your family for as long as I can remember,’ said Jabar. ‘It was your fault the fields were burned and we couldn’t trade for medicines. It was your fault my mother died.’
‘But it was Aunt Sofia!’
Jabar gave her a sad smile. ‘My father said you would say that. He said you would blame Sofia.’
‘But it’s true. Aunt Sofia locked my parents away. She put her general on the throne while she went to find me. She fooled everyone –’
Jabar’s eyes flashed. ‘No! Your parents fooled everyone. They let the general take the throne. They let him burn the fields.’
‘They did not!’ Indie was clutching the reins, her knuckles white.
Jabar yanked them out of her hands, his face expressionless. ‘The emperor said that if we brought him the Emerald Princess he would join us in the march to Ballyndor. My father was going to send someone else. I pleaded with him, I begged him to let me go. He said I couldn’t do it, that I was a weakling and a coward. But I proved him wrong.’
Indie’s hands fell to her sides. She looked up at Jabar, her face stricken, her fingers numb. But Jabar had turned his horse away.
*
‘I tried to stop her,’ said Nima, tears in her eyes. ‘She said she had to find Jabar. She said she would give herself up to the emperor and that would buy us some time to get to Ballyndor.’
‘No,’ cried the king. Dargan put a hand on his arm and he shook it free.
‘We must wait until nightfall,’ said Dargan. ‘If we go out there now they will slaughter us.’
The king ran both hands through his hair. ‘This is madness. I cannot sit here and do nothing.’
‘You have to,’ said Dargan. ‘You have no choice.’
There was a cry from the rocks. ‘The army of Moto has stopped, right in the middle of the plain. There are soldiers riding out from the edge of the forest. Hundreds of them!’
The king frowned. ‘Whose soldiers?’
‘Yours, Your Majesty. They are forming lines for battle.’
The king dashed his fist against the tree. ‘This is a brave and stupid thing. Our army is not large enough to meet Moto on the open plain. What is Tomas thinking?’
‘It is not Tomas leading them, Your Majesty. I can’t see who it is, but Tomas is beside him. I can see his horse.’
‘Why didn’t they stay to defend the city walls?’ cried the king.
‘Maybe they thought it was better to ride out than to be trapped like rats,’ said Dargan. ‘They have the advantage of the forest. If the whole army is there, they must be hidden at the edge. They will have the trees for cover.’
The king lifted his chin. ‘We must make the best of it. As soon as the battle begins, we will attack from behind.’ He put his hand on his sword. ‘Men, to arms! Let’s show them that Gort still has a king!’
*
Indie did not get another chance to talk to Jabar, which was fortunate – she had no idea what she would have said. She wanted to knock him from his horse and stomp him into the ground. She wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her.
As the Dasa roped her hands together, a scout came riding in. He was little more than a boy, with wild eyes and a dusty face. He threw himself to the ground in front of Mugadi.
‘Speak, boy. What have you seen?’
‘The army of Ballyndor, sire,’ gasped the boy. ‘Thousands of men on horses and soldiers on the march … and archers – ’
Mugadi frowned. ‘What is this? Why would they march out to meet us? It’s suicide, surely. They do not have the numbers.’
‘It’s the king,’ cried Indie, though she knew it wasn’t possible.
‘The king is dead,’ said Mugadi. ‘I saw him die with my own eyes. He fell from a snow bridge and vanished into the ice.’
‘You’re wrong,’ said Indie. She struggled against the man who held her. ‘He’s alive. The shaman helped us save him. I’m going to meet him.’
‘I think not,’ said Mugadi. He nodded to his men. ‘Take her to the emperor.’
With slow, deliberate precision Mugadi prepared his troops for battle. The foot soldiers of Moto and the brave Dasa Warriors stood in lines at the front, their spears and knives ready. Behind them in four columns, with their bows slung and waiting, knelt the archers. Then fanning out in squares of 1000 came the cavalry, prepared to thunder in with their scimitars, the cruel curved swords of Moto.
The emperor sat high on his elephant. He leaned across the silk cushions and patted Indie’s arm.
‘It will all be over soon, my dear. Then I can take you home to my marble palace, away from this terrible place.’
Indie glared at him. The scarf they had tied between her teeth was so tight it made her jaw throb.
‘I’m sorry about that,’ said the emperor, patting her cheek. ‘But if you insist on biting me …’
He rubbed his arm where the livid red marks of her teeth indented his pasty skin.
‘Now,’ he said, throwing open the curtains. ‘Let us watch my men destroy your little army.’
Indie saw the army of Moto spread out before her. Thousands of men and horses. Ready. Waiting. Well-rested from their night in the village.
Across the plain came the soldiers of Ballyndor with the king’s banner flying in the breeze. It was a golden eagle against a crimson sun. She stared at it. She couldn’t believe she had forgotten.
No limits, she thought, closing her eyes.
When she opened them, she saw the emperor leaning through his curtains, laughing.
‘Oh you have to see this,’ he gasped. ‘It’s priceless.
chapter 22
The Battle
Indie’s stomach twisted into a knot. The sour taste of fear rose in her throat. She looked down over the soldiers of Moto to the single horseman of Ballyndor who had ridden out to speak to Mugadi.
‘A boy,’ cried the emperor. ‘Their army is led by a boy.’
Indie looked at the slight figure, clad in fine silver chain mail. She could not see his face, obscured as it was by the v
isor of his helmet.
‘You are trespassing in the royal kingdom of Gort,’ said the boy. ‘What is it you want from us?’
‘The King of Gort is dead,’ said Mugadi. ‘We have the Emerald Child. Surrender the kingdom!’
‘The king may be dead, but the queen is very much alive,’ cried the boy. He stood in the saddle and pulled the helmet from his head. The soldiers cried out as a mass of long, dark hair tumbled down.
Indie almost fell off the elephant. It wasn’t possible. This couldn’t be happening.
Queen Tala reached her arms high into the air, lightning crackling from her fingertips, stabbing the air around her.
‘You dare to test the power of a Kalika queen?’ she cried. ‘You kill my husband, take my children from me, and expect to march into my kingdom unchallenged?’
The lightning coruscated around her head, flashes of blue and silver filling the air. The soldiers of Moto fell to their knees. The Dasa Warriors pressed their faces against the earth. Mugadi sat on his horse like a statue, his eyes hard, his hands gripping the reins.
‘Your Kalika magic doesn’t frighten me,’ he said. ‘You forget. I am from the mountains.’
He raised his spear. A dark shadow sprang from the tip. It dived across the plain towards the queen. She raised her hands, screamed the ancient words of a Kalika spell, watching dispassionately as the shadow fizzled and dissolved into the dirt.
‘Oh dear,’ said the emperor, clasping his hands together. ‘I don’t think I want her as one of my wives.’ He leaned out and called to his generals. ‘Retreat, retreat!’
The general looked up at the emperor, then back at Mugadi. The Dasa leader was flexing his fingers. He closed his eyes and whistled, long and low. The shadow appeared again, but this time it was darker. It looked at the queen with burning eyes, taking the form of a mighty wolf.
He’s calling on his power animal, thought Indie. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I am Kalika like my mother, she thought. I have seen the magic of the mountains. I call on that magic now. Help us. Please help us.
But the eagle did not come. Instead there was a low growl and the shadowy form of a white leopard sprang out at the wolf. In the centre of the plain the two creatures fought. Standing on its hind legs, the wolf tore at the leopard’s shoulder with its sharp teeth. Screaming, the leopard dug its claws into the wolf’s chest.
Mugadi urged his horse forward, his spear at his shoulder. He threw it high in the air, watching it fly toward the queen in a perfect arc. A flash of red appeared before her. There was a whirr of wings, the sharp ‘whoo, whoo!’ of an angry owl. Mugadi’s spear met the bird in an explosion of red and gold, knocking it out of the air.
On the rocks above the Moon Tree, Nima watched her leopard fight the wolf.
Kai lay beside her on the ground. His eyes flickered. ‘Ki-somma,’ he whispered.
He was flying with Sisika; he could see his mother through her eyes. He could touch the spear, smell the wolf, feel the fire in his mother’s heart. The power of the mountain was inside him; it was all around him.
You must touch the spirit of the living earth.
At last he understood. The power of the mountain was never meant to destroy. It was the power to heal, to give life. It was the power that pulsed through all living things. That was why it was so strong.
To be a true sorcerer, he had to feel the magic of the earth. He had to let it beat inside him. The forest, the mountain, it was all the same. The magic was in the trees and the grass; it was in the rocks and the snow. But most of all, it was in his heart.
He had to tell the queen. He had to make her understand. He flapped his owl wings, crying whoo, whoo! as the spear hit him. In an instant he was snatched from the body of the owl. He was falling into darkness, spiralling down and down, away from the noise of the battle, away from his mother’s eyes, all the way back to his own body.
Nima was holding him, looking down at him. ‘Kai,’ she cried, her tears hot against his face.
He shuddered, his body wracked by a deep, burning pain.
‘No,’ she said, ‘Please, no.’ She tore open his shirt, put both hands on his chest to stop the blood.
He tried to smile. ‘Go,’ he whispered. ‘It’s your turn now.’
From her position high on the elephant Indie saw the flash of red and gold. She watched Mugadi’s spear crumble and fall to the ground. Her mother sank back in the saddle, looking around for her men.
What’s she doing? thought Indie. Why doesn’t she call them to battle?
She couldn’t cry out. She couldn’t wriggle free. I am Kalika, she thought furiously, pulling at the rope around her wrists. There is magic inside me.
The emperor giggled. ‘There’s no use struggling,’ he said, rubbing his hands together. ‘It’s almost over.’
Mugadi rode toward the queen. The soldiers of Moto cowered on the ground. The Dasa Warriors jumped to their feet and followed their leader with bloodcurdling yells.
The queen raised her arm. Tomas waved the king’s banner and it flashed crimson and gold in the sun. At the edge of the forest the archers slung their bows. The foot soldiers gathered in lines behind the queen. The horsemen moved forward on either flank.
What are they waiting for? thought Indie. She could see they were hopelessly outnumbered. But the soldiers of Moto were still stunned by the magic of the mountain. If Ballyndor moved now, they might have a chance.
In the centre of the plain the leopard faltered. The wolf seized its throat with its teeth. The leopard slashed at the shadow wolf, struggling to break free.
Mugadi took a scimitar from one of the cowering soldiers. He raised it in the air and swung his horse around to face the queen.
Indie saw her mother standing defiant, the lightning sparking in her hands. She couldn’t sit here and let her fight the battle alone.
She closed her eyes. Ki-somma, she thought. Koko mi ki-somma. In her mind she saw Grandma Helki smiling at her. She was sitting in her hut looking out over the purple coneflowers. ‘You are the Emerald,’ the old woman said. ‘Remember that.’
The ropes at her hands and feet fell away. She reached up and ripped the scarf from her mouth.
The leopard twisted and raked its claws across the wolf’s nose. The wolf opened its jaws and howled. The leopard sprang through the lines of soldiers, leaping up to the emperor’s box. Indie only hesitated for a moment. She thought of her golden eagle, of Kai’s red owl. This creature was a power animal: it had come to help her.
The emperor watched, his mouth hanging open, as she climbed onto the leopard’s back and held onto the thick fur with both hands.
The wolf jumped at them as they sprang toward the queen. The leopard arched its body and dived out of reach. With a single tread of its great white paws, it landed beside the queen’s horse. Indie scrambled into the saddle behind her mother.
‘Indie,’ cried the queen, turning to seize her daughter’s hands. ‘What’s happening? What are these creatures?’
There was no time to answer. With a spine-chilling howl, the Dasa Warriors lifted their spears and charged.
The king and his men rode across the plain on stolen horses, taking their places with the army of Ballyndor. The soldiers of Moto, transfixed by the fight between the shadows, were taken by surprise.
The queen saw them ride in. She gave a muffled sob.
Indie put both arms around her mother’s waist. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘You have to finish this.’
The queen shook her head. ‘I am not a warrior. I don’t know what to do.’
Indie took a deep breath. ‘Ride towards them,’ she said. ‘Ride as fast as you can.’
The queen urged her horse into a canter. Indie stood in the saddle, her red hair flying. ‘Soldiers of Ballyndor,’ she cried. ‘Fight for your queen!’
The Dasa Warriors were brave, but they could not face so many horsemen. They dropped back. Mugadi cursed them. He called on the generals of Moto, but they watched the shadow wol
f and waited for their emperor.
‘Yaba mada,’ said Mugadi. The wolf vanished.
Mugadi unsheathed his scimitar and waved it in the air. ‘Soldiers of Moto,’ he cried. ‘Ballyndor is weak. This battle is ours!’
The emperor poked his head through the curtains. He saw his soldiers standing, waiting for his order. ‘What are you doing, you dolts?’ he screamed. ‘Get in there and fight.’
The generals rushed forward. They rallied their men. The entire army of Moto thundered across the plain.
Indie sat behind her mother, her eyes fierce, her heart pounding. Mugadi was galloping straight at them, a look of fury on his face. He raised his scimitar. The white leopard sprang in front of his horse, its teeth bared. Mugadi pulled hard on the reins. The horse reared, almost throwing him from its back.
The leopard snarled. It crouched back on its hind legs, ready to spring again.
Mugadi looked at the leopard. There was no trace of fear in his eyes. He lowered his scimitar. ‘Go home, Nima,’ he said. ‘This is not your battle.’
There was a ripple of light and the white leopard dissolved into the ground. Nima stood on the wide open plain, a little girl surrounded by angry, fighting men. Her skin glowed with green, just as it had under the Moon Tree.
She put her hands out to Mugadi. ‘This is wrong,’ she cried. ‘It will not bring back your wife. It is no one’s fault that she died. Can’t you see that?’
Mugadi’s face hardened. He raised his sword.
Nima reached out to touch his horse. There were tears in her eyes. ‘You will lose this battle,’ she said.
chapter 23
The Wildcat
Mugadi scowled. He whistled for his shadow wolf.
Nima put her hand on his snakeskin boot. ‘Please Mugadi. Don’t do this. Jabar will lose his father as well as his mother.’
Mugadi kicked her hand away, slashing at the air with his scimitar.
Above him, the sky grew dark. A great crack of thunder shook the earth. The shadow of the mountain crept across the grasslands, painting the whole world grey.
