by Andrew Symon
“Oh, it’s just that he’s not here anymore. He left his family to come and live among the Shian, but you know that humans don’t live that long.”
“How old was he when he died?”
“He was sixty – not especially young. But they have a different way of dealing with death. His family accepted his decision to leave, even though they knew it would change him. When he died we let them know. They just said he had gone to a better place.”
“Where?”
“Oh, it’s not a real place,” said Katie, getting flustered.
“Is it one of the secrets about death that the King’s Cup is supposed to tell us?”
“Now, Jack, that’s enough about that. It’s time you were getting outside. Go and see what the others are doing.”
“But Aunt—” Jack’s voice trailed off as he saw his aunt start to cry again. He left her and went outside. Petros was by the grocery shop at the top end of the square, and called out as he saw Jack approach. “What’s up?” he said.
“Your mum’s upset. I asked about her father. You know, for our lessons with Daid. She gets so far, and then she just starts crying.”
“She’s always been like that. Listen, I was speaking to Dad earlier on, and he says that he’ll teach us a hex so you can come up above the castle again.”
Jack’s eyes lit up. It seemed like forever since he’d been out in the open. His two-week ban had been indefinitely extended – proof, claimed Petros, that the Congress was divided about having a Brashat under the castle. Jack could hardly wait.
“Where’s your dad? Can we see him now?”
“After supper. You won’t be allowed out on your own, but it’s OK to come with me. That way there’s someone around in case anyone tries to get you.”
“How many hexes d’you know?” asked Jack.
“A few. They’re not very strong, though. I think Dad’s going to teach us something better. But you know the rules: hexes are a last resort.”
“The players in Claville used hexes,” pointed out Jack. “That was just part of the game.”
“The bad ones aren’t allowed in sport. Remember Rob’s hex in the wrestling match? He was in trouble for that. Sport hexes will hurt you, but they don’t last long. And you’re not allowed to use them against children.”
If I get a good one, I’m using it on Boyce, thought Jack as they headed back to the house.
That evening, Doonya took Petros and Jack aside.
“I know you want to get outside the square, Jack. Well, things have settled down now. The Brashat have been quiet, and no one’s tried to get near the Stone. Fenrig doesn’t seem to have any particular interest in you, and that’s good, or else he’s a very poor kind of spy. And remember his friends who took him to France? Well, they’ve been taken care of.”
“Fenrig was muttering about a binding hex. What’s that?” asked Jack.
“It holds someone, as if they’re frozen, only without being frozen. It’s not like being suspended. I’ve heard they’ll be kept that way for a long time. Cosmo had no option, considering what happened to the others in Claville.”
“Putting them to the iron was a bit much for what they did, wasn’t it?” asked Petros.
“The Claville Shian have good ties with the humans. Grulsh and the others violated their sense of what’s right. They’re out of the way, but there may be others, so don’t get careless. It’s all right for you to go out, as long as you’re accompanied, and as long as you know how to look after yourself.”
Jack nodded eagerly.
“We’ve taught you some simple hexes, but you know the rules. If you cast a hex maliciously, it’ll return to you three times over. If it’s very serious, then the Congress may have to be told, and then you’ll really be in trouble. Got that?”
Both youngsters indicated that they understood, but Jack was only half-listening. Everyone knew that you couldn’t go around hexing people. He just wished Uncle Doonya would get on with it.
“Whenever you go out, take these Aximon figures Cormac’s made,” continued Doonya. “Don’t stray too far. If anyone attacks you, grip the figure in your right hand and say, ‘Salvus!’ three times. That will slow down your attacker and give you time to get away – but only if you really believe it. You can’t fool the Aximon.”
Jack examined one of the figures in detail.
“How’s it work?”
“It’s a mixture hex,” replied Doonya. “Part Shian, part human. Because of that, the Brashat won’t use them. It’ll disarm an attacker, but only briefly. Look after the figures. If they save your skins, they’ll be priceless. And remember to say the words.”
“Yes, Dad,” said Petros, and Jack nodded in agreement.
“And Petros.” Doonya looked sternly at his son. “Don’t think I don’t know about some of the tricks you get up to with the humans. Don’t go overboard, all right? And don’t draw attention to yourself.”
“Is it only the Brashat I have to worry about?” asked Jack.
“It’s anyone who might try to grab you,” replied Doonya. “Because of our history with them, the Brashat are the most likely. Tomorrow you can go out again. But take care.”
Jack found it hard to get to sleep that night, and all through the next morning at Gilmore’s, though tired, he was impatient for leaving time. When Gilmore finally said the apprentices could finish, for once it was Jack who was fastest out the door, leaving Fenrig and Freya looking bewildered. Doxer, as usual, was impassive.
21
The Spiral Trinity
Jack hesitated when he stepped onto the esplanade. It wasn’t busy, but something made him hang back. How far should he go? He might have Shian enemies – but what about the humans? Were any of them dangerous? As he and Petros strolled around the esplanade, they chatted about Shian-human tensions.
“Ossian really doesn’t like humans, does he?” said Jack. “All that stuff about Dameves.”
“He’s all right. Most of that’s just show. I bet he didn’t tell you Uncle Hart’s a guardian for a human near Keldy. Ossian helps his dad out with that. You’ve got to take him with a pinch of salt.”
“What about the Aximon figure?” asked Jack. “I still don’t understand what your dad meant about it being a mixture hex.”
“I’m not sure. I heard Dad and Grandpa talking about hexes late one night. I’d gone downstairs for a drink. Then they talked about ghosts and a prophecy, but I couldn’t hear much of what they said. It’s about the Stone, and they mentioned a cup too, and there was something called Gosol. They seemed pretty excited by it.”
“You don’t think it was the King’s Cup, do you?” said Jack. “Grandpa told me that was just a story Shian told themselves about their power returning one day.”
“Dad said it disappeared ages back. We could ask him. He’s calmed down now about us going to France.”
Eventually, the desire to find out overcame Jack’s relief at being allowed out again, and the pair returned to the Shian square. They found Doonya, Grandpa Sandy and Aunt Katie talking in the kitchen, but the conversation died as Jack and Petros entered. Six inquisitive eyes faced the boys as they stood in the doorway. Sensing that they had intruded, Jack said, “Is there any juniper juice?”
Aunt Katie wordlessly poured two cups from a large jug and pushed them towards the youngsters.
“Thanks, Mum,” said Petros, taking his cue from Jack. “We’ve been out. Jack was enjoying being outside again.”
“I hope you’ll take good care out there,” said Grandpa kindly. “Now, what was it you really wanted?”
Jack and Petros exchanged glances. Petros shrugged.
“We wanted to know what connects the Destiny Stone with the King’s Cup,” asked Jack simply.
“And what makes you think there’s a connection?” demanded Doonya.
“Grandpa told me about an ancient cup in the Stone room. And the Icelandic elves told stories about it – and a magical globe.”
“Come through to the
living room” said Grandpa. “I think we all need to sit down.”
“I’m not sure that you’re ready to find out about this,” began Doonya as they sat down in the front room, whereupon Grandpa Sandy held up his hand, a gesture that commanded immediate respect.
“Pierre.”
Pierre. Uncle Doonya stiffened, recalling times when he’d been scolded as a young boy. His father only used his ‘Sunday best’ name when really serious – or angry.
“Young they may be, but stupid they are not,” went on Grandpa. He faced the two youngsters. “The Stone is back, but things haven’t improved as much as we expected. And since midsummer ancient manuscripts have appeared which confirm that the Stone is only one of three treasures.” He looked intently at Jack. “Briannan was right after all. When the Stone is joined by the other two, a great power will be released. There’s an ancient chalice or cup …” He broke off. “I think we might as well let the rest of our audience in.”
Without turning round, he flicked his right hand at the door, which promptly opened to reveal Rana and Lizzie crouching in the doorway. Both jumped up guiltily.
“Come in, girls,” said their grandfather lightly. “I trust you’ve been enjoying the story?”
“We couldn’t hear all of it,” Lizzie began, only to be silenced by a sharp pinch from her sister.
“You may as well hear the rest in comfort. I take it that you are aware of the manuscripts?”
Rana nodded, while Lizzie looked away.
“They tell us that the Stone is linked to other treasures, including an ancient cup. I understand a symbol of this has been the prize in an annual match between Cos-Howe and Claville.”
“The French captain sketched a fiery cup in the air before the game,” said Jack. “Afterwards he went to claim it, but when his hands touched the flames, they disappeared. The referee disappeared too.”
“Was there anything special about the cup?” asked Grandpa.
“Its markings,” said Rana. “Afterwards I remembered where I’d seen them before – on Tamlina’s ring.”
Doonya and Katie turned sharply to look at Rana, their eyes wide with surprise.
“What do you know of Tamlina?” demanded Doonya angrily.
Sensing that she had strayed onto difficult ground, Rana hesitated.
“You’d better tell us what you know.” Grandpa Sandy spoke gently.
“Ossian took us,” explained Rana. “We didn’t know where we were going, it was a secret. We just went along for some fun.”
“I hope you realise how foolhardy that was,” said Doonya. “Tamlina’s a very dangerous enchantress. How did you know where she was?”
“Ossian knew,” chimed in Lizzie. “She made Ossian and Petros wait behind while Rana and Jack and me went with her.”
“She didn’t give you anything to eat or drink, did she?” asked Aunt Katie anxiously.
“She gave us this broth, but we poured it out on the ground,” said Jack. “She didn’t notice; she’d already drunk hers.”
“That’s just as well, Jack dear. There’s no knowing what might have happened if you’d drunk one of her potions.”
“She went into a trance,” continued Jack, “but it was hard to hear what she was saying.”
“Something about a Trinity,” broke in Rana. “And then she spoke of sphere and silver.”
“She mentioned my father too,” said Jack. “Something about him and Konan the Brashat trying to trick each other up in Keldy.”
“I wish you’d told us this before, Jack,” said his grandfather. “We haven’t managed to get anything out of Tamlina before now. You must have caught her at a fortunate time.”
“Afterwards, I don’t think she remembered what she’d said,” pointed out Lizzie. “She even asked us if she’d mentioned some kind of stone. She knew she’d been talking, because she said we had responsibility with knowledge.”
“She was quite right, then,” snapped her father. “The responsible thing would have been to come and tell us.”
“So what does the Trinity mean then?” asked Petros. His parents looked at him, then at Grandpa Sandy.
“We’re not sure.” Grandpa tapped the fingertips of his left hand against those of his right. “The manuscripts are difficult to decipher, and there are many strange symbols. Rana,” he turned to his granddaughter, “what were the markings on the King’s Cup?”
“It was a round pattern,” butted in Lizzie. “Three spirals joined in the middle.”
“That’s right,” added Rana. “The same as Tamlina’s ring. I’ll draw it for you.”
Rana fetched a pencil and a scrap of paper, and began to draw an outline of the shape.
As Rana presented her drawing, Grandpa and Uncle Doonya exchanged glances. Aunt Katie took the cue.
“Come on, you lot,” she said, getting up. “We’ll get you something to eat. Grandpa and Dad need a few moments to discuss things.”
Reluctantly, the four youngsters went through to the kitchen. Each ate quickly but quietly, trying to listen for sounds from the front room. After ten minutes, Grandpa Sandy came through.
“You can come back in now,” he announced. “Perhaps without realising it, you have uncovered important information. The Congress will have to decide what to do next.”
“What do the spirals mean, Grandpa?” asked Petros, as they all sat down again.
“The manuscripts talk of a Trinity. The three spiral arms probably represent that. The Stone could be one arm, and the King’s Cup another, but we’re not sure if the third one is the globe. The documents are very old and difficult to read.”
“Where did they come from?” asked Jack.
“That’s a mystery,” replied Doonya. “They appeared in the castle chapel a week after midsummer. Nobody knows how.”
“Maybe a human left them,” suggested Jack. “Humans walk through that chapel all day.”
“That’s possible,” said Doonya. “Most of the manuscripts aren’t Shian. That’s why they’re so hard to interpret.”
“I can read human writing,” piped up Rana.
“These aren’t like the human books you’ve seen,” said her mother kindly. “They’re old parchments, from before the time printing was invented. That’s what’s so strange if it was a human who brought them. They must be valuable. Anybody could’ve picked them up.”
“We must assume that whoever left them meant us to find them,” said Grandpa. “The question is, why?”
“The Congress must decide,” said Doonya. “There’s only so much we can do on our own.”
“I agree. But,” said Grandpa, turning to the youngsters, “apart from telling the senior members of the Congress, this must be kept to ourselves. Having such knowledge could be dangerous if others know that we know. You must not tell anyone else what you have told us.”
“We told Ossian what Tamlina had said,” Jack pointed out.
“He hasn’t told his parents, then,” said Doonya. “Hart would certainly have let us know if he had. But has he told anyone else?”
“He’s been on a tight rein since coming back from France,” said Katie, “but I’m sure he’ll still manage to meet his friends, and some of them are not that trustworthy.”
“I’d better go to Keldy and find out,” said Doonya. “I can go this evening.”
“The Congress meets tonight,” said Grandpa firmly. “You ought to be there.”
“I’ll be back in time for that. The Congress will want to know if anyone in Keldy knows all this.”
Grandpa Sandy and Doonya returned late from the Congress meeting. Both looked drawn and tired. As they entered the house, Jack and Petros were getting ready to go upstairs.
“Just a moment, please, you two,” said Doonya.
Exchanging puzzled glances, the two boys followed Doonya into the front room. Grandpa Sandy closed the door.
“How’s Ossian?” asked Jack.
“He’ll not be allowed out for a while,” snapped Uncle Doonya. Then, comp
osing himself, he continued, “Everyone in Keldy is fine. But things are happening that are causing us some concern.”
“Tonight’s Congress meeting was not plain sailing,” explained Grandpa. “Our news has upset some people, and the upshot is that they want you both, and Rana and Lizzie, to appear before them next Friday.”
Jack gulped hard. Apprentices were never summoned by the Congress, except for the most serious of offences.
“But why?” Petros found his voice first. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“It’s not a matter of having done anything wrong,” replied Grandpa, “although some believe that going to see Tamlina puts you in that category. But you have no choice. If summoned, you must attend. We’ll be there too, so don’t worry. I’m afraid,” he continued, looking at Jack, “that in light of these events it would be safest for you not to leave the square until after next week’s meeting.”
“I’ve only just been allowed out!” shouted Jack. “That’s not fair!” He thumped the arm of the sofa, and stormed out.
Both Jack and Petros found it hard to sleep that night. Indeed, the following week was difficult, with the Friday night meeting looming ahead. Rana alone seemed unconcerned, arguing that she hadn’t committed any crime.
As Friday evening neared they were all made ready by Aunt Katie, to ‘look their best’ for the Congress. Jack, in his tidiest clothes, squirmed as his hair was once again brushed flat. He wasn’t looking forward to being interviewed, but rationalised that the sooner they got there, the sooner it would be over.
Lizzie and Rana were arguing over whether they should take their pet squillo Nuxie along. Lizzie’s claim that he was so sweet that he was bound to melt even the stoniest of Congress members’ hearts was met with the withering retort that they didn’t need luck. To Jack’s relief, Grandpa Sandy arrived and announced that it was time to leave.
22
The Shian Congress
Grandpa Sandy assembled the group on the mound of earth at the foot of the square. Drawing his cloak around them, he whispered, “Wind-flock Cos-Howe.”
