by Anne Forbes
Clara and Neil looked at one another in amazement. Arthur’s final bursts of sparks had been so fabulous that they had made him seem like a firework himself.
“Wow!” Clara said loudly. “Wasn’t that amazing? That dragon really looked real, didn’t it? I wonder how they did it?” Her neighbours nodded in agreement. Everyone, after all, knew that dragons didn’t exist and it was, perhaps, this ingrained belief that served to relegate Arthur from reality to the higher realms of pyrotechnic engineering!
Jostled by the crowds making their way down the High Street, Clara suddenly grabbed Neil’s arm and dived into the narrow confines of Lady Stair’s Close. “Carpet!” she commanded, clapping her hands twice as she had seen the MacArthur do. “Go on, Neil! Clap! You know what Lady Ellan said!”
Neil said, “Carpet!” and clapped his hands twice. Looking up at the high walls of the close, he moved further towards the open courtyard that lay beyond. “Do you think they’ll come?” he asked doubtfully.
“Lady Ellan said that they’d come when we called them, didn’t she?”
“Yes, but nothing’s happened yet!”
“Give them time! They’ve got to get here remember!”
The carpets arrived in barely a minute. Neil saw them first and grabbed Clara by the arm as two carpets suddenly appeared and hovered in front of them. Clara recognized the pattern on hers and scrambled onto it. Neil watched anxiously as she promptly disappeared. “Are you there, Clara?” he whispered.
“Of course I am!” she said, her voice coming from nowhere. “Hurry up! Someone might come into the close.”
“Where shall we ask them to take us? To the school or to the MacArthur?”
“The MacArthur, I think. It would be useless going to the school if he isn’t there!”
Neil clambered onto his carpet and felt it give under him as he sat down. “Take us to the MacArthur!” he instructed. The carpets floated up into the air and soared over the houses, lights, traffic and people of the High Street until the old familiar school building loomed in front of them. This time, the carpets knew exactly where they were going and floated round until they came to an open window. Clara ducked her head as they skimmed through and jumped off as her carpet hovered just feet from the floor. Neil appeared seconds later as he, too, got off. The carpets floated over to the wall, rolled themselves up and settled themselves neatly. Even as they watched in fascination, another larger carpet unrolled itself, hovered for a moment, then sailed out of the window.
“I wonder who it’s gone to fetch?” mused Clara.
“Probably Sir James,” came the answer. “He wouldn’t be able to get into the school otherwise. It’s all locked up!”
“Let’s call Dad,” Clara said. “I’m sure he’ll want to be at this meeting.”
“Okay,” nodded Neil as he dialled the house number. His father answered and, when he heard what had happened at the castle, was more than anxious to come, although he was unsure about using a magic carpet.
“It’s easy, Dad! Put the firestone you got from Lady Ellan into your pocket, say ‘carpet,’ clap your hands twice and it’ll come for you. You’d better stand in the garden, though, as it won’t be able to get into the house if the windows are all closed.”
Clara opened the classroom door and peered into the corridor. Mischief immediately ran up the stairs towards them and purred round their legs. “Hurry up, Neil. Tell Dad we’ll see him soon. I think the MacArthurs must be in the Music Room.”
With Mischief running in front of them, they climbed the stairs and knocked at the door of the Music Room. It was very quiet and Neil looked indecisive, not quite knowing what to do. Archie, however, demerged from Mischief and pushed the door open. The MacArthurs were all there, sitting round the room in hushed, gloomy silence.
Mischief followed them in. She seemed quite used to the MacArthurs and pleased to see the two children. They walked towards the MacArthur who was sitting on a chair, totally broken with grief.
“We’re both very sorry about Lady Ellan, MacArthur,” said Neil. “We’ll do everything we can to help you get her back!”
“Aye. My dear girl … in the hands of Alasdair Rothlan!” He shook his head sorrowfully.
Clara, however, looked at him with a dangerous sparkle in her eyes. “Lady Ellan can look after herself,” she stated roundly, “and if you ask me, she’ll boss that Lord Rothlan around until he’ll be glad to let her go!”
“Good for you, Clara! I’m sure you’re right!” said Sir James as he entered the room. “A lady of spirit, Lady Ellan!”
The MacArthur, cheered at this attitude, was moved to agree. “Aye! You’re maybe right at that! Always an argumentative lassie, my daughter!”
Sir James looked at Neil and Clara quizzically. “I suppose it was the three of you who cooked up the chaos on the esplanade?”
Clara nodded. “We flew into the castle before the Tattoo started. Neil and I were pigeons and the MacArthurs merged with MacLeod’s men and some of the Touareg.”
“I gathered as much. Poor Dougal! He must have wondered why his men didn’t come to his rescue! What I really want to know is how these infernal walkways went so completely berserk! There was no one near them as far as I could see.”
Clara and Neil looked at the ground and didn’t answer.
Sir James looked appalled. “It was never the pair of you!” he exclaimed.
Neil took a deep breath. “We were pigeons, Sir James. All I had to do was perch on the machinery and jab the buttons with my beak.”
“Well, I …” Sir James shook his head and burst out laughing, just as the Ranger walked into the room. “Ranger, come and hear what your children have been up to.”
“What’s that?” asked the Ranger.
“I’ll let them tell you themselves!” he said with a grin.
While they regaled their father with their exploits and the disappearance of Lady Ellan and Lord Rothlan, Sir James and the MacArthur sat deep in discussion.
“Rothlan must have managed to break out of Jarishan when the firestones left the hill,” the MacArthur decided. He shook his head worriedly. “I don’t like it! There’s going to be trouble! Prince Kalman must be furious! He hates Rothlan like poison, you know. And that’s another thing! I haven’t heard from the prince at all! Why hasn’t he come to Edinburgh? He should be here, helping us to fight Rothlan. He must know what’s going on! Most of the Lords of the North are dithering old fools but not the prince! He’s as sharp as they come. If only Rothlan hadn’t captured Ellan!”
“There must be secret ways into the hill, surely,” Sir James said, looking at him expectantly. “The first thing we have to do is make a plan to rescue her.”
At that moment, the Ranger walked over. “Won’t Arthur be able to help?” he suggested. “He’s back in the hill now, isn’t he?”
“Arthur?” the MacArthur looked blank.
“My goodness! I forgot to tell you!” Sir James clapped a hand to his forehead at his forgetfulness. “Arthur is back! We saw him at the castle. The fireworks attracted him and he had a display of his own!”
The MacArthur sat up, electrified by the news. “Ranger MacLean,” he said, “are you seriously telling me that Arthur has come back? He’s back and he’s in the hill?”
“Yes,” the Ranger nodded. “Swooped right over me, he did and disappeared into the hill.”
Archie leapt to his feet at the news. Arthur had returned to the hill! He jumped up, punching the air. “Arthur! Arthur’s back!” he yelled and ran to the door, shouting for his carpet.
The MacArthur ignored him. “But if Arthur was able to get into the hill, it must mean that Rothlan has gone! He and his men must have pulled out completely.” He suddenly rose to his feet and walked up and down, twisting his hands together worriedly. He looked at Sir James. “He’s gone back to Jarishan,” ge whispered miserably, “and he’s taken Ellan with him!”
“Jarishan!” whispered Clara. “I’ve heard of it before. Where is it?”
It was Hamish who answered her. “Jarishan is Rothlan’s estate. It’s on the west coast of Scotland … and by the look of things,” he surveyed the MacArthur through narrowed eyes, “… by the look of things, I somehow think that we will be visiting it quite soon!”
The MacArthur was so upset that he could barely talk. “Fetch the carpets,” he commanded. “We must return to the hill!”
There had been great excitement among the MacArthurs at the news of Arthur’s return, followed quickly by a surge of happiness as it dawned on them that they would be returning home. Now their elation had gone completely and they looked at one another apprehensively as they gathered together their few belongings in silence.
Clara bent down and quietly picked up Mischief. Gently, she carried her downstairs to the janitor’s office where she had her bed; a cardboard box with a soft cushion and a blanket in it. She hid a smile as she stroked the little cat’s head and laid her in the middle of the cushion.
“You’ll be all right, Mischief,” she assured the little cat, albeit with more confidence than she felt. “Just don’t freak when old MacGregor appears in the morning!” And she ran back upstairs to join the others and get her carpet.
Arthur had indeed returned to the hill but his welcome had not been as he’d imagined. For the hill was empty, totally empty!
Crying in anguish, he crawled along tunnels and passageways but nowhere could he find any trace of the MacArthurs. He couldn’t understand it and became increasingly frightened. His own cave, too, was not as he’d left it. His precious treasure was scattered everywhere and, worst of all, the firestones had gone. The thought of living alone in the hill was chilling and he called for Archie until he could call no more.
Shivering and fearful, poor Arthur went round his cave gathering bits of treasure in his mouth until he had heaped it once more into a comfortable pile. Sobbing his heart out and shedding great quantities of firestones everywhere, he lay on his gold, a chastened heap of misery.
It was much later that a slight noise caused him to raise his great head and look towards the entrance to the tunnel. Surely he couldn’t be mistaken! Wasn’t that torchlight flickering in the darkness?
Hope sprang in his heart as he lurched off his pile of treasure. A voice, a dear voice that he knew only too well, called out to him. It was Archie! The cave was suddenly filled with the MacArthurs and their torches. Archie ran up and flung his arms round his neck. “Arthur! Arthur! You’ve come back! Please, don’t leave us again!”
Standing at the back of the crowd, Neil, Clara, Sir James and the Ranger watched as each MacArthur in turn greeted the great dragon and welcomed him home. Arthur was so happy at this sudden change in his fortunes that he cried even more and drenched everyone in firestones.
Later that night, when everyone else was fast asleep, Arthur poured out the sad tale of his sojourn in Loch Ness to Archie, who nestled comfortably in the crook of one of his spindly arms.
“It’s a deep, dark loch, that Loch Ness, Archie. So deep and cold that I thought I’d never reach the bottom. And then we had to swim through a tunnel and, ocht … when we reached her caves, they were dank, cheerless places. Not warm and comfortable like here. And I’d no treasure to lie on, Archie, and I did’nt have you and the others to talk to, either.”
“But surely Nessie had faeries to look after her, Arthur? She could’nt live on her own!”
“She had faeries, all right! Water goblins!” Arthur shivered at the thought of them. “Horrid, spiteful things! They didn’t want me there from the start. They just wanted Nessie all to themselves! And do you know, Archie, over the years they’ve made her just like them! When I knew her, she was young and full of fun!”
“So you decided to come back?” Archie stretched and smiled happily.
“I missed you, Archie. I missed the others too, of course, but mostly you. I missed our talks and the tales you used to tell me. These goblins did nothing but gossip about one another and Nessie was much the same.”
“Didn’t she talk about food?” asked Archie, whose mind was never far from the subject of meals. “About what you would have for supper?”
“Fish! We had fish mostly,” came the depressing answer. “She ate a lot of fish. In fact, she has such an appetite that it’s a wonder there are any fish left in Loch Ness.”
“Arthur,” said Archie diffidently. “When you left us on the bank of the loch, didn’t you hear me shout goodbye to you?”
“I did, Archie, but she told me to take no notice. We were together and that was all that mattered. I should have known then that it wouldn’t work, shouldn’t I? She’s changed so much!”
His voice tailed off sadly. “Don’t worry, Arthur,” Archie said consolingly. “It’s the fault of the water goblins, you know. They enjoy making people as nasty and mean-spirited as they are themselves. Thank goodness you left and came back to us.”
“I’m sorry about so many things, Archie. About not saying goodbye to you and taking all Sir James’s whisky and blowing fire and … Archie!”
Archie jumped in fright! “What! What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I forgot to tell you! I can breathe fire on my own. Just watch!” He turned his head to one side and breathed a long stream of flames and sparks. “I’ve grown up, Archie! I’m a proper dragon now!”
He then regaled Archie with the story of the firework display at the castle and it was very late when they finally curled up and fell fast asleep.
Neil, Clara, Sir James and the Ranger also slept in the hill that night. Jaikie took them through tunnels to a part of the cavern that had escaped Arthur’s ravages. It was as though an old castle had been built within the hill, with paved floors and dusty, panelled walls. All the bedrooms were full of ancient furniture; carpets layered the floors and the walls were hung with old, threadbare tapestries depicting unicorns and ancient beasts. Each room had a curtained, four-poster bed made up with fine linen sheets and piled high with thick fur coverings. At the sight of them, they realized just how tired they were. It had been an exhausting and eventful day and long before the torches flickered and went out, they were fast asleep.
25. Preparations for War
Next morning, in the depths of Arthur’s Seat, Sir James, the Ranger, Clara and Neil sat round an enormous table having breakfast with the MacArthur. The men were deep in discussion and, to Neil and Clara’s excitement, they had decided to use the magic carpets to fly to Jarishan.
“There’s no other way to move so many troops,” declared the MacArthur. “We must fly there by carpet.”
“What do you intend to do when you get there?” asked Sir James. “Do you have a plan?”
“I don’t know about a plan,” said the MacArthur, “but we’ve plenty of firestones! Dragons, you know, hardly ever cry but Arthur cried so much last night that the whole hill is full of them. We’re picking them up everywhere! I have enough to protect the hill while we are away and more than enough to counteract Rothlan’s worst spells.”
“MacArthur!” Jaikie burst into the room, flushed with excitement. “MacArthur! Thon man that we caught in Arthur’s cave … he’s here! He’s in the hill and asking to speak to you. And he kens you’re here too, Sir James, because he mentioned your name as well.”
They all looked at one another in consternation.
“Dougal MacLeod!” groaned Sir James. “It can only be him!”
The MacArthur looked at them appraisingly. “Well,” he asked, “will I ask Jaikie to bring him in?”
Sir James threw up his hands in resignation. “You may as well,” he said helplessly. “Dougal’s up to his eyes in this as much as we are! Let’s hear what he has to say!”
MacLeod followed Jaikie into the room a few minutes later, and apart from a plaster over one eyebrow, looked none the worse for his adventure of the previous evening. They all rose to greet him as he bowed to the MacArthur and nodded to Sir James and the others. Although he looked surprised at seeing the Ranger and Neil, he recog
nized Clara and smiled at her thinly.
“Jaikie!” commanded the MacArthur, “have another place set for breakfast. Perhaps Mr MacLeod would like to join us?”
Dougal held up a hand. “First of all,” he said stiffly, “I would like to apologize for taking the dragon’s jewels. I don’t know why I did it. Something just came over me and I had to have them. I’m sorry I took them and caused you trouble.”
“Sit down, man. Sit down!” growled the MacArthur. “We accept your apology and if it’s any consolation to you, you may as well know that the firestones themselves are responsible for what you did.”
“Firestones? Is that what you call them? You mean they … the firestones … wanted me to take them?”
“Aye! They have their own magic, firestones!”
“That …” said Dougal, looking as though he were about to burst into tears, “is such a relief! I felt dreadful at taking them but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted them so much! I’d very much like to make up for what I did. I want to help you in any way I can; if you’ll have me, that is.”
“You are more than welcome, Mr MacLeod,” smiled the MacArthur. “At the moment we look like needing all the help we can get. Now sit yourself down and have a bite to eat.”
Another chair was brought and, as Dougal was introduced to Clara, Neil and the Ranger, Sir James made room for him.
“Well, MacLeod,” he said with a wry smile as Dougal settled himself and looked self-consciously round the table, “welcome to our little band! I’m not sure what you’d call us but believe me, a more motley crew of respectable scoundrels never walked the streets of Edinburgh! Am I not right?” He looked round for approval and there was laughter and a nodding of heads.
Clara had been watching Dougal carefully and sighed with relief as he joined in. He looked at them all curiously. “There are so many questions I want to ask you all,” he ventured, a trifle ruefully, “but I hardly know where to begin!”
