by Kate Forsyth
‘You do know, don’t you, that Prince Peregrine has wildkin blood in him, inherited from both parents?’ Palila said softly. ‘He is heir to the wildkin throne. He has the gift of magic’.
Grizelda struggled not to let her distaste show in her face. ‘Of course I know,’ she said loftily. ‘I’m not an idiot’.
‘Do not underestimate him,’ the old woman went on. ‘Yes, he is young and not very strong. No doubt you think you can wrap him around your little finger as easy as blinking’.
Grizelda turned away, giving a light laugh. ‘What are you talking about? Of course I don’t think that!’
Palila continued as if she had not spoken. ‘His wit is keen, though, and his heart is good. He’s as valiant a prince as you’ll ever find, and he has talents he has hardly discovered yet’.
‘He is lucky to have such a loyal subject’. Grizelda spoke frostily, wanting to stop the old woman from saying any more.
‘He has many loyal subjects, you will find,’ Palila responded.
Grizelda showed her teeth in a smile and swept to the door. ‘I assure you he can count me among them’.
Palila made a gesture with her crippled hands and the door opened. Grizelda tried not to flinch. She thought she had been prepared for anything, but the wildkin stronghold was even more strange and uncanny than she had expected. That feast last night, with its barbaric customs, all that leaping and jabbering with spears, all the horrible creatures with bulging eyes and horns and weird glowing eyes. She had been so uneasy it had taken all her strength to smile and chatter away, let alone use her wiles to entrance the prince.
As Grizelda swept down the staircase, she considered the prince. She had been disappointed in him to begin with. He was so thin and so pale, so ordinary looking. His squire was twice his size and three times as handsome.
Yet he had been kind to her, and surprisingly lithe and bold during the strange ritual dance he had performed. And she liked his eyes. They were a beautiful colour, grey-blue in some lights and grey-green in others, and filled with light. If only he were taller!
Peregrine shifted from foot to foot, eager to get on his horse and ride out into the frosty night.
His father was giving a few last-minute orders to Lord Montgomery, the captain of Peregrine’s bodyguards. Meanwhile, people scurried about the great hall. Some carried racks of spears and pikes out to the battlements, or dragged baskets filled with rocks and boulders to throw down the murder holes. Old women sat tearing linen sheets into strips and rolling them into bandages, while others pounded herbs to make new batches of healing lotions and ointments. Although Peregrine’s mother could heal simple wounds with a touch, she could not heal too many in a row without exhausting herself. More complex injuries took time since she drew upon the strength of the patient themselves as well as her own, and too hurried a healing could drain the injured to the very point of death.
‘Time to go,’ Lord Zedrin said, coming into the hall, dressed in armour, his helmet under his arm. ‘It’ll be dawn in less than three hours. Are you hungry, Peregrine?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m still full from the feast’.
‘You need to make sure you eat properly and get plenty of rest,’ said King Merrik. ‘Jack, can I trust you to make sure his Highness doesn’t get too tired?’
‘You can, your Majesty’.
‘I’ll be fine, Father,’ Peregrine sighed. On his wrist, Blitz shifted, his bells chiming gently.
‘Well then, let’s get you out of here before they start throwing their blasted fusillier fire,’ Lord Zedrin said. ‘Where do you think they got it, Merry? I thought we’d blown up all their gas mines’.
‘I don’t know, Zed,’ the king answered. ‘Tom-Tit-Tot has flown out again to see what he can learn. He plans to change shape into a louse so he can sit on the commander’s ear and hear all their plans. Hopefully they don’t have too much fusillier fuel. I’d like to destroy it all before they even have a chance to try and fire it at us’.
‘How will you do that?’ Peregrine asked.
‘I have a few ideas. A flock of birds bombarding the tanks with rocks is just one of them’. King Merrik had the Gift of the Tongue of Heavens, which meant he could communicate with birds. Vernisha the Vile had, in retaliation, ordered all birds in the land of Ziva to be shot on sight. Here in the Perilous Forest, however, birds were still free to fly and sing as they wanted.
King Merrik slung his arm about Peregrine’s shoulder and they walked together towards the stables. ‘What would you suggest?’ his father asked.
‘Shooting them with arrows of flame?’
‘We would have to get a lot closer before we could try that, but it would certainly create a pretty blaze,’ his father said. ‘We might just try it’.
‘Father, please, can’t I stay and help? You know I’m a good shot. I could creep out across the ice with Jack and—’
‘I’m sorry, Peregrine, it’s just too—’
‘Dangerous,’ Peregrine finished glumly. Blitz cocked his hooded head at the tone of his master’s voice and gave a soft chirrup.
‘You’re only just fifteen,’ his father said gently. ‘None of us wants you to see too much of war yet, my boy. It’s something you can never forget. In truth, I hope you never have to see it. If we prevail in the next few days, maybe you won’t have to. Maybe we can break the back of the army and be able to march on Vernisha’.
‘I hope so,’ Peregrine said sombrely.
It was snowing heavily outside and the wind was cold, stabbing at Peregrine’s lungs with every breath he took. He and his father hurried across the dark courtyard into the warm, dim stable, Jack and Lord Zedrin close behind. The two queens were already there, inspecting the saddlebags and giving last-minute instructions to the guards. Stiga waited quietly, perched on the edge of a bundle of hay.
Half-a-dozen of the king’s bodyguards were standing by six tall horses, their hooves and harnesses swaddled to prevent any noise. Officially called the King’s Troop of Gentlemen at Arms, they were more often referred to by their nickname, the Merry Men. Like Peregrine and Jack, they wore long grey cloaks over their heavy buff jackets, woven for them by the Erlrune with spells of camouflage and concealment. Sir Medwin was already hunched on his sturdy grey mare, his long ungainly legs sticking out at what Peregrine judged to be an obtuse angle. His saddlebags bulged with textbooks and bristled with scrolls.
Peregrine’s black stallion, Sable, was being held waiting for him. The stallion was well prepared for a long journey through a snowy forest, with two long panniers packed with oats and grain hanging on either side of his saddle. Under his saddle, he was draped in a long embroidered blanket, both to keep him warm and help protect him from arrows. Another bag was slung behind the saddle, with a water bottle, camp axe and other tools hanging from it. Peregrine had his own supplies in the pack he carried on his back, in case he and Sable were accidentally separated, as well as his longbow and quiver of arrows.
The king himself boosted Peregrine into the saddle. ‘Keep safe,’ he said. ‘Tell the Erlrune to send us a message to let us know you are safely arrived’.
‘I will, Father,’ Peregrine answered. He put Blitz on the wooden saddle-perch so he could bend down to embrace his father.
King Merrik hugged him close. ‘Keep safe, my boy,’ he said huskily.
As the king stepped back, Lord Montgomery came forward with a safety harness for Peregrine.
‘Oh no, do I have to?’ Peregrine cried. ‘Father!’
‘Please, Robin,’ Queen Liliana said. ‘I know you hate it, but it’ll be a dangerous ride, we can’t risk you falling’.
Peregrine was silent, his jaw thrust out mutinously.
‘Please, for your mother’s sake,’ King Merrik said gently. ‘Just to stop her worrying’.
‘It’s not that I don’t trust you,’ Queen Liliana said, dashing away tears. ‘I know how well you can ride. It’s just in case’.
Sullenly Peregrine let Lord Montgomery buckle the leather straps
about his waist. The harness was then attached to Sable’s girth.
‘Thank you,’ his mother said, stepping forward to clasp his hand in hers. He nodded and she pulled him down so she could kiss his cheek and ruffle his hair. ‘Don’t forget to take your medicine’.
He huffed an exasperated breath. ‘I won’t’.
‘Well, you do, all too often. Jack, will you remind him?’
‘Yes, your Highness’. Jack bowed deeply, and then mounted his brown gelding.
‘I’ll be fine, Mam,’ Peregrine said in long-suffering tones. ‘It’s only a few days’ ride. That is, if we ever get going!’
‘Take care out there, look after yourself,’ Queen Liliana said anxiously.
He nodded and said farewell to Queen Rozalina and Lord Zedrin, who had their own messages of advice and warning to give him.
‘Stiga will guide you,’ Queen Liliana said. ‘You’ve never made the journey in winter before and the forest will look very different covered in snow’.
The old nursemaid stood up and came to stand at Peregrine’s stirrup, wrapped in her old shawl, her heart-shaped face turned up so she could look at him. ‘Do not fear,’ she whispered. He smiled and shook his head.
‘Where is this starkin girl?’ demanded Lord Montgomery, the leader of the bodyguards. He was a tall, strong man with dark eyes and iron-grey hair, carrying a heavy crossbow. ‘If we do not get moving soon, the horses will take cold’.
‘She’s coming,’ Lord Zedrin said.
A few minutes later, they saw Grizelda being led across the courtyard. Her eyes were blindfolded and her mouth was tightly gagged. She was wrapped in a long grey cloak. Only the high red heels of her boots could be seen. Her tall dog slunk behind her, growling softly in his throat. Her horse was led out of the stable and she was lifted up into the saddle. She gripped the pommel with both gauntleted hands as her reins were passed to Lord Leighton to hold. Her back was rigid.
‘Lady Grizelda, you must keep quiet,’ King Merrik told her. ‘You are to be led through a secret passage. Its entrance and exit are closely guarded. Any attempt to leave a sign or communicate with the starkin army in any way and Lord Montgomery shall shoot you without mercy. Do you understand?’
She nodded her head.
‘Very well,’ the king said. ‘I would like to thank you for putting yourself in danger to bring us news of the starkin soldiers. It may be some time before we can return you to your home. I am sorry for that. You will be safe at the Erlrune’s. She is a wise and kind woman. You need have no fear’.
Grizelda inclined her head, her spine very straight.
King Merrik stood back. ‘Goodbye, Peregrine!’ he said. ‘Please take care’.
‘Bye, Robin!’ Queen Liliana’s voice cracked with tears. ‘Look after him, boys’.
‘We will’. Lord Montgomery bowed, one hand on his chest, and the other five bodyguards followed suit.
Stiga went to the far end of the stable, towards the outer wall of the castle. On the other side, the wall plunged several hundred feet down to the frozen lake. A dusty old carriage was parked in the far stall. On Stiga’s gesture, the grooms harnessed two huge carthorses to the carriage and dragged it out, backing it into another stall. Stiga went in and crouched by the manger, which was carved with the eagle emblem of the Stormlinn. She pressed the shield and a part of the floor slowly sank away, revealing a steep ramp that led down into darkness.
‘The Door to the Underworld,’ Peregrine said with satisfaction. ‘Come on! Let’s go!’
CHAPTER 6
The Escape
DOWN AND AROUND, THE SMALL PROCESSION WOUND, DEEP into the bowels of the earth.
Stiga’s lantern shone like a small red eye in the darkness, winking out as she disappeared around the curve of the wall and then reappearing as the horses followed her quiet footsteps. Jack kept close to his master, all his senses on high alert. His breath hung frostily in the air, and the dank cold seeped through his jacket, making him shiver.
His gelding, Snapdragon, snorted a little uneasily and Jack at once quietened him. Sound travelled far at night and he had no desire to draw the attention of any starkin scouts. He knew how important it was to keep Prince Peregrine safe.
The ramp beneath their horses’ hooves was steep and slippery and so they moved slowly, leaning back in the saddle. At last it began to level out, and the horses came to a halt as Stiga fumbled somewhere to one side. With a low rumbling noise, a crack widened in the blank walk before them, and fresh air stung their faces. Lord Leighton passed Grizelda’s reins to Lord Murray, another of the bodyguards, and rode out cautiously to scout the surrounding area. After a few long, tense moments he came back, lifting his hand to show all was well.
One by one they rode out into the dark snowy forest, and Stiga closed the stone gates behind them. Once they were shut, there was no sign of any crack between the two sections. It was simply a massive grey boulder, surrounded by snow-laden bushes and trees, and ghosted over with grey lichen. Jack stared in amazement. After three years in the prince’s service he still had not grown used to the uncanny ways of the wildkin.
Grizelda made a whimpering noise, deep in her throat, as if struggling to speak. Lord Leighton hushed her softly. Her dog whined and pressed himself close by her crimson boot, and she stretched out her hand to him, circling one gloved finger. The dog ran and lifted his leg against the stone, sending a stream of hot yellow liquid splashing down into the snow.
‘The poor dog was bursting,’ Prince Peregrine whispered to Jack, who grinned and nodded. Lord Montgomery turned and lifted a finger to his lips.
Jack stared around, orientating himself in the landscape. Behind him reared the massive bulk of Stormfell, its bare rocky crown wreathed as usual in clouds. Ahead was the steep pinnacle on which Stormlinn Castle was built. They were in the broad ravine that ran between the two. The trees in the ravine were bare as twigs, while those on the flanks of the mountain were sombre-green and dusted in snow like icing sugar. It was dark, the moon swathed in clouds. Cold stabbed with every breath Jack took.
Stiga hunched down in the snow and shuddered. In the blink of an eye, she flew up from the ground in the shape of a white owl. Jack had seen her change shape many times before but it never ceased to astound him, how easily she shed her human shape. In her owl shape she flew through the forest. The horses and their riders cantered after her, muffled hooves almost soundless on the soft snow. Grizelda’s dog bounded after them, the snow up to its belly.
Beyond the tracery of bare black branches, the sky was low and ominous, and snow whirled in the wind, quickly filling their tracks. They came around the base of the pinnacle and saw, stretching before them, the frozen expanse of the Stormlinn. They would have to cross the lake if they were to make their way to the Evenlinn, the next great lake up the river, for there was no way to cross Stormfell in winter, on horseback.
They hesitated in the shadows under the trees for a long moment, listening and watching. The white expanse of the lake was visible even in the darkness, patched with shadows where the ice was thin. Even camouflaged as they were in their grey cloaks, it would be possible for any keen-eyed watcher to see them as they crossed. They could not ford the river further down, where it was narrower, because the starkin soldiers were tramping up the river towards them.
‘We’ll take the risk,’ Lord Montgomery whispered. ‘Jack, keep close to his Highness. If we are attacked, get him back to the castle as fast as you can or, if the way is blocked, ride for the Erlrune’s. I know I can trust you to keep him safe’.
Jack nodded. He felt immense pride that the captain trusted him so well. He had taken an oath three years ago to serve his prince and guard him with his life. That oath was the most important thing in Jack’s life, the only thing that made any sense of his father’s agonising death. His father had died for the king; Jack was ready and willing to die for the prince. He drew his dagger and moved Snapdragon as close to the prince’s horse as he could.
Peregri
ne sighed.
With Jack and his men riding so close about him, he could not see a thing. Peregrine had never ridden across the lake before at night. He’d have liked to have galloped, Sable’s hooves kicking up shards of ice, the frozen lake glimmering in its bowl of icy peaks under a starry sky. Instead he was so hemmed in by broad backs that he could see nothing but the faint outline of Sable’s ears, laid back in displeasure. He urged Sable to go a little faster and at once Snapdragon lengthened his stride as well, Jack leaning forward in his anxiety to keep pace with his master.
Peregrine sighed again. He clamped his right fist a little closer to his chest, keeping his falcon tucked within the shelter of his cloak. Blitz was showing signs of unease, his back humped, his hooded head turning from side to side. Peregrine crooned a lullaby under his breath, and Blitz quietened.
Lord Montgomery led the way across the ice. Snow whirled and Peregrine lifted his face to the wind, feeling the touch of the snowflakes like tiny freezing kisses. The snow would have been sent by his mother, he knew, to help hide their escape. He glanced back at the castle and saw just one light, still burning in one tower.
Far away, in the forest, a dog bayed loudly. At once Grizelda’s dog bayed in response. Lord Montgomery reined his horse back on its haunches and reached over to drag away Grizelda’s gag and blindfold. ‘Quiet that dog, else I’ll shoot it!’
Grizelda gasped air into her lungs. ‘No, Oskar, quiet,’ she managed to say. At once her hound fell silent, though the other dog continued to bay in the distance.
‘If it barks again, I’ll not have mercy,’ Lord Montgomery warned her. She nodded, her breath uneven, and clicked her fingers. Oskar at once slunk close to her left heel.
‘I fear the howl of the dog was a signal, your Highness,’ Lord Montgomery muttered to Peregrine. ‘I think we should ride as fast as we can’.
Peregrine nodded. He unhooded Blitz and flung the bird up in the air, knowing his falcon would fly after him. He was then able to spur Sable into a gallop, the other riders racing after him. It was a wild and dangerous ride across the ice and then veering through the stark black trees, leaping over mounds of snow that masked fallen logs and boulders. Stiga led them well, though, and soon the place where Oskar had barked was far behind them.
