by Anne Forbes
He landed amongst them in a flap of great wings. By doing so, his back was to many of the wolves and, had they attacked him, he would have been severely mauled. Appreciating his trust, the wolves moved to stand beside their leader and sat themselves down at his side. A soldier, Amgarad noted; a soldier of the Onegin!
The soldier snapped to attention and saluted the great bird. He had never seen such a huge eagle in his life and stared in fascination at its black shining eyes and fearsome beak.
“You are Amgarad? Lord Rothlan’s eagle?” he questioned eagerly.
Amgarad nodded. “You are of the … Onegin, the wolf people?”
“On – yeg – in,” the soldier corrected him with a smile. “Yes, we are. I have a message for you from my master, Lord Onegin.”
“About a boy?” Amgarad asked hopefully.
The soldier looked a trifle taken aback. “A boy?” he repeated. “Oh, yes, the boy is quite safe. He is in my master’s castle at Trollsberg.”
Amgarad sighed with relief. The wolves must have come across Neil and rescued him.
“You needn’t worry about him,” the soldier assured him with a smile. “Count Vassili is looking after him.”
“Count Vassili?” Amgarad’s face darkened in alarm and he spread his wings, ready to take off in an instant should things turn nasty, for he knew that the count had been Lord Jezail’s right-hand man for many years.
“Count Vassili is not in Lord Jezail’s service any longer,” the soldier assured him hurriedly. “The boy told him how he’d come to Ashgar with the MacArthur’s army and the count gave me a message for you.”
“A message?” Amgarad repeated.
“He asked me to tell you that Lord Jezail has left the citadel at Stara Zargana and is heading for the Valley of the Dragons with his men. It’ll take him many days to reach it and, of course, we’ll put obstacles in his way to delay him, but now that the citadel is only lightly guarded, the count thinks that the MacArthur could take it quite easily if he were to attack. He’s also anxious to speak to Prince Kalman and Lord Rothlan.”
Amgarad looked more than doubtful. Why on earth would Jezail leave the citadel when he knew that the MacArthur’s army was in Ashgar?
“You will deliver the message to Prince Kalman and Lord Rothlan, won’t you?” the soldier said urgently, sensing his doubt. “It’s most important. So important,” he added with a slight smile, “that Count Vassili ordered every wolf in Ashgar to be on the look-out for you today!”
Amgarad bent his great head and met the captain’s blue eyes seriously. “Please thank Count Vassili for the message,” he said formally, “and tell him that I am returning to my master immediately to give him the news. It is, indeed, important information and I’m sure he will be very grateful for it.”
The soldier saluted and, as Amgarad spread his wings and took to the air, he followed the bird’s flight with his eyes for many minutes before reverting, once more, to being a wolf.
“So Neil’s at Trollsberg!” Prince Kalman repeated thoughtfully as Amgarad, once more back in the MacArthur’s camp, perched on the trunk of a fallen tree and told of his encounter with the wolves.
“That’s what the soldier told me,” Amgarad said tiredly, settling his feathers. “I think the wolves must have found him wandering around and taken him there.”
“Where is it?” the MacArthur asked interestedly.
“Trollsberg?” repeated the prince. “It lies to the north of us. Lord Onegin has a castle there.”
“It’s a relief to know that Neil’s safe!” Lord Rothlan said thankfully. “And if what you told us about Lord Jezail travelling to the Valley of the Dragons is true,” he continued thoughtfully, “then perhaps Clara is still in the citadel. I can’t see Lord Jezail taking her on such an expedition! Maybe he’s left her behind?”
“Perhaps that’s what Count Vassili wants us to think,” the MacArthur interrupted. “How do we know we can trust him? It might be a ploy on Jezail’s part to catch us out …”
“No, no, I’m quite sure it isn’t,” Prince Kalman said decisively. “He and Clara between them more or less saved my life when we were in the snow witches’ palace last year. I’m sure we can trust him and to tell you the truth, I’m not surprised that he’s left Jezail’s service. In fact, I’ve never really understood why he stayed with him for so long. He’s a bit of a riddle is our Vassili!”
“I’ve been wondering about him, too,” Lord Rothlan said pensively, “and I rather think it’s because Lord Onegin wanted his son to keep tabs on Lord Jezail.”
Prince Kalman’s eyes sharpened. “What do you mean, Alasdair?”
“Well,” he pointed out, “there’s the hex that Jezail put on your father, for a start.”
There was a brief silence. At the time, no one had known that it was Lord Jezail’s hex that had made Prince Casimir steal the Turkish Sultan’s magic crown and, when caught, his punishment had been severe. The furious Sultan had turned him into a djinn and he’d spent many years imprisoned in a deep well out in the desert.
Lord Rothlan continued. “You know as well as I do, that Jezail’s hex must have been a fairly complicated affair,” he pointed out, “and it wouldn’t surprise me if some of the staff got wind of it. You can’t keep anything secret in a place like the citadel. It’s more than likely that whispers about that little episode got out and reached Lord Onegin’s ears.”
“You mean he sent Vassili to keep an eye on what Lord Jezail was up to?” Prince Kalman finished.
“It’s more than possible,” Lord Rothlan answered.
“You know, I think you’re right,” the prince nodded, as realization dawned, “for if Jezail had got his hands on the Sultan’s crown, he would have been a serious threat to his neighbours. Just think of the power it would have given him! In fact,” he added, meeting Lord Rothlan’s eyes, “he’d probably have started a war! And with the crown in his possession, he’d have won!”
There was a short silence as they digested this. If their suspicions were correct then Vassili had certainly served his father well.
“So,” the MacArthur said as the conversation drifted to an uneasy halt. “What do we do now? Head for Stara Zargana?”
Prince Kalman looked at the darkening sky. “We’ll start early tomorrow morning,” he decided. “What do you say, Alasdair? I know that the carpets are fine now but it’s a long way to Stara Zargana and a good night’s sleep will set them up for the journey.”
Amgarad shifted on his perch. He, too, had had a tiring day and a good night’s sleep was just what he had in mind. Tomorrow was, indeed, another day and it looked as though it were going to be an exciting one at that!
33. Trollsberg
Lord Onegin, elderly and grey-haired, smoothed the velvet of his long robes and rose to greet his visitors as they marched down the length of the red carpet. Lord Rothlan he picked out immediately; who else, after all, would have a great eagle perched on his shoulder! The other, tall and fair, must, he decided, be Prince Kalman.
The two magicians bowed low before Lord Onegin and it was only once the initial introductions were over that he indicated the ornate chairs that had been set beside the throne. It was then that Count Vassili stepped forward and, eyeing Prince Kalman rather hesitantly, smiled a welcome. “I hope that witch looked after you,” he said diffidently, referring to their last meeting at the snow witches’ palace. “I threatened her with hell and damnation if she let you die!”
Prince Kalman smiled and, grasping both of his hands, clasped them firmly. “You saved my life, Vassili,” he said quietly. “I won’t forget that in a hurry.”
The conversation was general for a while and then turned to more serious things for Lord Rothlan and Prince Kalman had come straight from Stara Zargana.
“You say that the MacArthur now has control of the citadel?” Lord Onegin queried.
Lord Rothlan nodded. “It was very much a surprise attack,” he said. “Jezail’s men didn’t put up much of a fight. T
hey knew they were totally outnumbered.”
Lord Onegin sat back in his throne with a sigh of relief. “Over the years Lord Jezail has been a great source of worry to me,” he admitted, “as my son well knows.” Looking over at Count Vassili, he smiled gratefully. “Vassili sacrificed a great deal by becoming his aide but it was only by placing him in the citadel that I could find out what schemes that … that madman … was hatching.”
“We thought as much,” Prince Kalman smiled.
“Also … but I’ll tell you about that later,” Lord Onegin hesitated. “First of all I think we must discuss how we are going to rescue Clara … and Maria, of course.” He glanced at Vassili. “My son is very worried about them.”
“I suggest we move to the Blue Room,” Count Vassili suggested swiftly, rising to his feet. “We can talk in private there,” he smiled cheerfully, “and Neil, of course, is more than anxious to see you both!”
Amgarad flapped his wings. Now they only needed to rescue Clara and they would all be together again!
Major Sallis rose to his feet as Lord Onegin was ushered into the room with his guests. Neil, too, sprang up and bowed low as they entered and then beamed happily at the sight of Lord Rothlan, Prince Kalman and Amgarad.
Prince Kalman eyed him shrewdly as they settled into the deep sofas and armchairs that clustered cosily round the fireplace. He was bright-eyed and happy, certainly none the worse for his adventures.
“I’m really sorry I wasn’t where you left me, Amgarad,’ Neil apologized, turning to the eagle, perched comfortably on his master’s shoulder. “You see, some crows attacked me. I reckon they must have been Lord Jezail’s spies, and, well, I had to run into the forest to escape … and then I was afraid to go back to where you left me, in case the crows found me again. I followed a path until it got dark and … well, that’s when the wolves found me,” he finished, looking at Major Sallis with a smile.
“It was the crows that alerted us to you,” the major admitted. “The fact that they were attacking you meant that you were Jezail’s enemy … and our friend. That’s why we came looking for you!”
“Thank goodness you did!” Neil said, appreciatively. “But what happened to you, Amgarad? You didn’t come back for me! I was out of my mind with worry!”
Prince Kalman then recounted everything that had happened, even down to the carpets feeling sick and ill. It was fortunate, he said, that the Lords of the North had been quick to find the spell that Jezail had used to hex them for, once they’d reversed it, the carpets had soon recovered. That was when they’d got ready for battle and flown to Stara Zargana.
“You could hardly call it a battle,” Lord Rothlan said with a smile. “We were invisible when we flew in on the carpets and when we materialized … well, Jezail’s men saw that we outnumbered them so completely that … well, they just laid down their arms. We took the citadel without a single casualty.”
“I still can’t believe that he left the citadel with so little protection,” Count Vassili said in disbelief. “Jezail isn’t a fool! Nobody knows that better than I do! He must have known you weren’t all that far away … what was he thinking about?”
“Dragons, I should imagine,” Lord Rothlan said. “Don’t underestimate the sword’s magic, Vassili. It’s tremendously powerful. I’m not at all surprised that he left for the Valley of the Dragons. The sword would be urging him on!”
“That’s more than probable,” Lord Onegin nodded. “If Jezail had been in his right mind, he’d never have left the citadel open to attack.”
Vassili nodded. “I was always suspicious of its intentions,” he said slowly, “especially as Jezail was once a Dragon Seeker. The sword played along with his ambitions as long as they matched its own. I think it probably controls him now.”
“Shouldn’t we warn Arthur and tell him that Lord Jezail is on his way?” Neil asked, looking apprehensively round the circle of worried faces.
“Yes,” the count looked at Lord Rothlan, “Neil told me that Arthur is already in the Valley of the Dragons! Is that correct?”
Lord Rothlan nodded. “He insisted on flying out to warn them. Actually, I was in touch with him this morning … to tell him that we’d taken the citadel and that Jezail is on his way to the valley. Knowing Arthur, he’ll have sentries on every pinnacle of rock, believe me! Arthur knows the power of Dragonslayer only too well.”
“We’ll attend to Lord Jezail in good time,” Lord Onegin interrupted briskly, “but we mustn’t forget Clara. Before we go any further, I think Vassili should tell you his story.”
Vassili looked round the circle of faces bathed in the comfortable red glow of the fire and his face darkened as he thought of Clara and Maria in the high tower room at Dragonsgard.
“Clara,” he began, “is being held in one of Jezail’s border castles.” He held up his hand for silence as an alarmed murmur ran round the little group. “Once she had written down all of the spells he had no more use for her. I think he thought she might be useful as a bargaining chip if his plans went wrong but,” and here his face darkened, “he was also determined to punish her for the hex she cast when we were in Scotland.”
Lord Rothlan looked at Prince Kalman, remembering Jezail’s scarred, bloodstained face when he’d spoken to them through the crystal.
“He used magic to heal the scars,” the count continued, “but he didn’t forgive Clara. That’s the real reason he sent her to Dragonsgard.”
“Dragonsgard!” Prince Kalman sat up looking thunderstruck.
“When he detailed an armed guard to accompany us, I had a suspicion that I might become a prisoner there as well,” Vassili continued candidly, “and as it happened, I’d guessed right! Anyway, I managed to escape and came straight here to my father for help.”
“Dragonsgard!” Kalman repeated. “I remember Lord Jezail talking about it. Doesn’t it have a tower room where … where …” he stopped and with a glance at Neil, said no more.
“Exactly,” Vassili said, “which is why we must rescue her at once.”
Neil looked from one face to another. “What is it about this tower room that you don’t want to tell me?” he asked.
Vassili pressed his lips together. “The tower room at the top of the castle has slit windows all the way round. There is no shelter from the wind and the rain. And being so high, it is always cold and windy …”
“We can use magic to bring her in,” Prince Kalman said confidently. “She is wearing her firestone, isn’t she?”
Count Vassili looked at his father. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “We’ve already tried to bring her in by magic. It was the first thing we did.”
“It didn’t work,” Lord Onegin added. “Of course, there could be a protective shield round the castle, you never know.”
“We have our magic carpets,” Lord Rothlan said confidently, “and,” he added, looking at Neil, “I can borrow Neil’s firestone for her to wear.”
Lord Onegin shook his head as Neil reached up to unfasten the chain that held his firestone. “There’s another problem,” he added. “The slit windows round the tower are set deep into the walls and they’re very narrow. I doubt if even a child could squeeze through one.”
“I merged with Amgarad to get off the magic carpet,” Neil said, looking round doubtfully. “If she’s still wearing her firestone she ought to be able to merge with him if he flies up close!”
“As far as I know, Jezail didn’t take her firestone,” Count Vassili said slowly.
“Then I think Amgarad should go at once,” Lord Rothlan said. “Even if he can’t rescue her, he can at least tell her that help is at hand.”
Everyone turned to look at Amgarad who, spreading his vast wings, flapped them eagerly. The very thought of Clara imprisoned in such a dreadful place was beyond bearing.
Major Sallis drew his breath in sharply, appreciating for the first time the strength, power and ferociousness of the great bird. Looking decidedly impressed, he hurried to open one of the w
indows as Lord Rothlan, with Amgarad on his arm, rose to his feet.
“Fly east, Amgarad,” Major Sallis said, pushing the window wide open and pointing to some mountain peaks that reared in the distance. “Dragonsgard is on the other side of those mountains. You can’t miss it,” he added dryly.
There was a great flap of wings as Amgarad took off over the battlements of the castle. Watchful sentries looked up in awe as the huge bird soared overhead. They all knew who he was for details of the new arrivals had filtered swiftly round the castle. They noted, too, where he was heading and after a few minutes were quite sure.
The great eagle was heading for Dragonsgard!
34. A Welcome Visitor
Clara, peeping at her watch for the hundredth time that day, hurriedly stuck her hand back underneath the blankets and, with a shiver, drew them up under her chin once more. How, she thought, could five minutes last so long? A feeling of despair enveloped her. If she was going to have to stay in this dreadful place for any length of time, she was going to die of boredom. Tears filled her eyes. Only five minutes! They seemed to have taken five hours to pass! Huddling miserably in the little cocoon of warmth under the furs piled on the bed, she gazed unseeingly at the curve of slit windows that circled the room. Where, she thought, was Lord Rothlan? And what about Prince Kalman? She was quite sure they hadn’t forgotten her but she couldn’t understand what was keeping them. She’d been a prisoner for such a long time and yet no one had tried to rescue her! She looked across at Maria, bundled under a similar pile of blankets. She hadn’t left her for a second even although she wasn’t a prisoner. Then there was Count Vassili! He had escaped days ago. How many days ago was it? She couldn’t be sure. Time meant nothing in this cold, grim room where the wind whistled and roared all day.
Maria heard it first and lifted her head slightly at the sound; the distant cry of an eagle. She thought nothing of it but when it sounded again, closer this time, Clara, too, heard it and stiffened, hope rising in her heart. Amgarad! Could it be Amgarad, she wondered? About to throw back the furs, she hesitated, for getting out of bed and rushing to look through one of the slit windows would make her a thousand times colder than if she stayed in bed and did nothing. And the cold was terrible. Should she risk it? But then, knowing her luck, she thought despairingly, it might well turn out to be just another eagle.
