The Enchanted Castle (Shioni of Sheba Book 1)

by Marc Secchia

  Right. And here came the foolish part where she got herself killed.

  Shioni gripped the protruding shaft as best she could with her right hand, while she laid her left hand flat on his chest alongside it. She could feel the heat through his fur. Slowly, steadily, she pulled, and although the lion groaned and his claws jerked spasmodically, nothing happened. But she had been training with the warriors. There was real strength in her fingers and arms now. Shioni put her left hand on top of her right, placed her feet either side of the arrow, and threw all of her might into a second attempt. With a ghastly, drawn-out sucking noise, the broken arrow popped out of the lion’s chest.

  Blood and pus gushed out of the wound, covering her hands and feet with a foul, greenish-red ooze mixed in with gobs of crimson half-clotted blood.

  “Disgusting!” Shioni sat back on her haunches. “And I’m still alive.”

  The lion seemed to be unconscious now. She imagined she could feel something mysterious emanating from the prone body, which simply had to be to do with the strangeness of what she was doing. Medicating a lion? She had a pretty fair idea of what Mama might say to that!

  Shioni opened the stopper on her water gourd and washed out the puncture wound as best she could. She packed it with a special moss that Mama swore by to speed healing. The flow of blood slowed to a trickle, and then stopped. She used the rest of her water on the worst of his other bites and scratches, and used up every scrap of moss she had dared to filch from Mama’s store. There, that was the best she could do.

  Suddenly aware of the passage of time, Shioni picked up the lamp. She still had the ride back, the same distance their column had taken the better part of a day and a half to cover. She had less than half of the night left.

  The lion would have to fend for himself now.

  And as for her? She had to be madder than a madman she had once seen dancing on a nest of soldier ants–but she felt pretty good about that. And so very alive she was practically buzzing from head to toe!

  So if she could just return to Castle Asmat without being found out… with a sigh, she started to concoct her next lie.

  Chapter 6: Mama Nomuula Speaks

  “Them’s dead afraid of this castle,” Mama Nomuula said, in what Shioni liked to think of as her storytelling voice. Mama did like to put on a show during the evening storytelling. “Them villagers is clucking and jumping like chickens chased by a fox. Something’s not right, mark my words. And I’s not started talking about black magic or nothing. The arogit herself said…”

  Shioni’s attention drifted. Who cared what the old woman of the village had said? She was desperately tired after her adventure with the lion the previous night. ‘This morning,’ she corrected herself, with a yawn any lion would have been proud of. Warm, and enjoying a full belly for once, as Mama had slipped her a second helping of bread with dinner, she let the conversation drift over her.

  Asmat Castle was not what she had expected. From afar it had looked impressive, but closer in, the ruined state of the outer defensive wall became clear. The wall was so thick that Captain Dabir had joked, ‘What were they defending? Giants? Avalanche?’ and beside Annakiya, Hakim Isoke had muttered to the Princess–but loudly enough for many to overhear, ‘Ignoramus! He should study the arts of war.’ Shioni struggled desperately to school her features to remain still.

  The slaves had been swarming over the thick outer walls and the old moat for several days now, trying to dig out centuries of rockfall and dirt and make it defensible. Engineers were preparing to divert a stream to refill the moat when it was ready. A startling number of labourers had been employed inside, readying rooms, installing and making furniture, equipping the kitchens, shooing out birds and insects, and making all manner of repairs.

  ‘Man was made for the open air. Give me a tent any day,’ was Dabir’s response to the great hall of the castle. ‘Barbarian,’ sneered Isoke, reporting this later to Annakiya during her lessons. ‘That fool should rather herd goats than live with civilized people.’

  The central keep was a solid, if worn, cross-shaped building with cross-shaped arrow slits in the walls, built around a spacious central courtyard. Some parts of the underground cellars had caved in, making the north and east wings dangerous, but the greater part had kept surprisingly well over the years since it had been abandoned.

  Shioni liked the courtyard best. It felt old and cosy. The stone used for construction had a warm reddish colour, especially towards sunset. There was a gigantic baobab tree near the kitchen, so tall that it hurt her neck to try to catch a glimpse of the top, and it took her twenty-seven paces to walk around its pot-bellied trunk. She had measured. Only, she wished its root-like branches were not so curiously bare of greenery, or birds, or any other living thing.

  The courtyard looked like it must once have been busy, full of the sights and sounds of castle life. There was also a well, but it had run dry too. The slave-girls–even the young ones–had to fetch water from the river every day. Even thinking about that task made her arms hurt!

  But the castle was overrun with vipers. Perhaps they had been nesting amongst all the fallen stones in the ruins, and now the arrival of so many people had disturbed them. Already, three slaves had been bitten and one had died. The King himself had been found sharing a bed with two adders one morning–he was lucky to escape unhurt.

  Mama Nomuula was talking about asmat. It was an old word, meaning magic or witchcraft. “There’s asmati in them mountains,” she was saying. “Little creatures, about as tall as your knee. Nasty and crafty, they are. Your hen go missing? Asmati for sure. Your cow’s milk go sour? Your clothes get holes? That’s asmati work. They likes nothing better than to make trouble for us humans. And bad feelings. They loves bad feelings.”

  “Mama, tell us what the witch-lady said!”

  “She were moon-mad, and no witch,” said Nomuula, her dark eyes twinkling in the lamplight. Around her, at least thirty slaves were crowded into her tiny room, and more were jammed into the doorway to listen. “But many a wise word’s been spoke by the mad–God save them.”

  Shioni was squeezed in next to Mama, half-hidden in a shadowy corner, and with her good eye regarded the room. The other was still swollen half-shut after her ‘lesson’ delivered by the warriors, but it was getting better. The crowd was nodding along. ‘Ay.’ ‘That’s a true word.’

  “Well, we’s just arrived in Ginab when this woman comes running along–”

  “She had no clothes!”

  “Who’s telling the story, you cheeky monkey?” Mama’s round face broke into a beaming smile as she regarded a three-year-old boy. “Ay, not a thread did she have, and she were smeared in fresh cow-pat like you could smell fifty paces off. Well I tell not a word of a lie, she scream and scream about a witch who cursed the castle, the vultures circling above ready to pick our bones, and them snakes–all the time dancing like a whirlwind. Then just sudden-like she throws herself into General Getu’s arms!” She pretended to spit on the floor. “Pah! The pong! Poor Shioni here had to wash his uniform four times before the smell would come out!”

  Through the laughter, a voice called, “Just the job a ferengi’s good for!”

  Mama Nomuula’s expression turned to stone. “Tadesse, I’ve known you since you was swaddled in wet-cloths,” she growled, “and you ain’t grown a shred of sense since.”

  “Now, Mama Nomuula, don’t you be like–”

  “Tadesse–have you forgotten? I’m a ferengi too.” All the jollity had been sucked out of her. She added, with a sigh, “I’m tired. Why don’t you all just go?”

  After the silent throng had filed out, Mama Nomuula turned to Shioni. “Honey? You… are you sleeping with your eyes open down there?”

  Shioni jumped as though she had been pricked by a pin. “Huh? What… Mama?”

  What a weird daydream! An elephant’s trunk holding a key, pushing it into her head, turning it with a scraping and squeaking of bolts and levers? Or was it a memory? She had he
ard everything in the room throughout. Those elephants had not, well, done something to her whilst she was unconscious in their pen, had they?

  A pair of tree-trunk arms swept Shioni up and tucked her into the small cot that stood at the foot of Mama Nomuula’s bed. This was what having a real mother must feel like–wonderful. “Mama?” she said sleepily. “I didn’t know… I mean… thank you…”

  “Don’t you fuss now,” said Mama Nomuula, bending over the bed. “You’s been a-yawning all day. You sleeping alright?” Shioni nodded. “So where’d you go last night?”

  “Last night? Nowhere, Mama.”

  “I loves you like my own, Shioni. Don’t you be telling Mama Nomuula no fibs.” But she added with an unexpected chuckle, “Anyways, I’s a better liar than you. I’s seen you, girl, coming in before dawn. It’s when I make the bread dough and leave it to rise.”

  “Oh.” Shioni’s eyelids seemed weighted with bags of sand. “I went to look after the lion, Mama.”

  “Oh, my poor soul, you crazy… you brave girl. Now just you sleep. And don’t you be fooling like that again! My old heart couldn’t stand to lose another girl.”

  Another? Whatever did she mean? But Shioni was too tired to think any more. Her eyes drooped shut and stayed that way.

  Chapter 7: Well, Well…

  Shioni sneaked up the well-used stone steps to the highest watchtower.

  Tewodros, the warrior stationed below, had let her pass. He was one of the few who showed her any kindness. It was he who had carried her, unconscious, off the practice field–when? A week ago now? The days in Castle Asmat were flying by on an eagle’s wings. At least her bruises were mostly healing up.

  She didn’t want to cause any trouble for him–hence the sneaking.

  She muttered to herself, ‘I’ll bet none of those warriors would have crawled into a lion’s den!’ How was the lion? His plight still weighed heavily on her heart.

  But once she was leaning over the battlements, it was hard not to feel exhilarated by the solitude, the fresh breeze, and the wonderful views. No witch-cursed castle had a right to such a beautiful home, she thought. Towards Takazze, the capital of West Sheba, eagles and bearded vultures soared over a slender, grassy valley, burnt now to a tan colour by the incessant sunshine of the dry season. What would it look like when the rains came? Beyond the valley, the lush river plains stretched like an emerald carpet all the way to the Takazze River. Dramatic black basalt cliffs frowned down upon the castle. But in the opposite direction, rank upon rank of dagger-sharp volcanic mountains pierced the skies. Her blood sang when she looked up there.

  Now that was wishful thinking! As if anyone would let a mere slave-girl explore...

  It seemed impossible that mountain peaks could be so sharp and jumbled. The priest had joked that at the time of creation, God must have taken a handful of spare mountains, tossed them somewhere for safekeeping, and then forgotten all about them. Here and there, she saw the purple smudge of high, heathery moors. And beneath the lower slopes, bearded with thick, dark forests, she imagined secret valleys, caves, and waterfalls. Were there lions and leopards? Dragons? What about the fabled gold mines of Belshalar, the Mountain King?

  Secrets guarded by the Wasabi, who according to Mama Nomuula, were a band of thugs, villains and murderers. She shivered.

  “Hsst! Girl! You’re wanted below.”

  Shioni started, and then turned to hurry after the warrior.

  On her way down from the tower, she had to stand aside for a group of slaves who were carrying a great block of stone for the repairs. Seeing her, they exchanged low comments as if she wasn’t even present:

  “Rotten ferengi.”

  “Lucky… belongs to the Princess, right?”

  “Looks weird.”

  “So pale, like a ghost.”

  But once she was down in the courtyard, she found she had bigger problems. Two warriors of Captain Dabir’s cohort were waiting for her, and they were both smirking like a pair of boys planning a raid on Mama Nomuula’s pantry.

  “The Captain says we need to fix the well,” explained the first. “We need water inside the castle. You slaves should appreciate that.”

  “So we picked someone nice and light to go down and take a look. Why strain our backs lowering a man down there?”

  Shioni studied her feet. What choice did she have?

  One of them dropped a fat gob of spit near her right foot. “We brought you a lantern. Might be dark. Scary place for a girl.”

  “There might be bats,” suggested the other. “Bats that suck your blood dry. I hear they like ferengi blood best of all.”

  The teasing continued as they walked her over to the well. Shortly, Shioni found herself being lowered down, down, down, into dank darkness. The loop of rough cord hurt her armpits, but that was nothing compared to the scared-rabbit thumping of her heart. All her bravery had leaked away.

  She held up the lantern. The well was deeper than she had imagined. And gloomier. The bottom was a heap of boulders partially covered in centuries of wind-blown dust and leaves. Shioni loosened the loop of rope and slipped it over her shoulders.

  A call echoed down, “You alright down there?”

  “Yes!”

  “Give us a shout when you want to come up!”

  She ran her fingertips along the wall, finding it damp, but not very wet. Had those boulders stopped a spring? Where had all the water gone? Shioni glanced up. The light was a long way above her head! And the well was wider than she had expected–just a little wider than her outstretched arms. Well, here was a puzzle. She’d better spend some time taking a good look or those mean warriors would take her to task…

  Shioni forced herself to examine every nook and cranny within her reach. She went over everything twice, finding nothing. She rubbed her arms. The masons would have to come down and remove the rocks, she decided. There was nothing more she could do.

  “Hello?” Her voice echoed plaintively. The rope was gone!

  Shioni clapped her hands to her mouth, stifling a small shriek. The warriors–no wonder they had been grinning! This was their plan all along. Thoughts jammed her head. They would come back, wouldn’t they? Would someone hear if she shouted? But with all the building work going on, there was constant noise and bustle. What if they left her down here forever? Could she climb out on her own? She didn’t want to die in a well!

  She could kick herself for being so easily hoodwinked. Shioni inspected the walls again. The masonry was old enough that she could find or dig toe-holds with the long dagger she always carried. But her body was still aching from the beating she’d taken in training the previous week. Her knees were a mass of itchy scabs and her left big toe had lost a flap of skin. No ramming that into a handy chink.

  She tried calling for a while, even screaming when she grew a bit scared and felt as though the walls were closing in on her, but nobody came. It was already late afternoon. Then the lantern spluttered and died.

  Shioni swallowed around a rock-hard lump in her throat. “Come on, think!” she said aloud, trying to feel comforted by the sound of her own voice. “Annakiya will miss me at dinner. She’ll come looking for sure, if she isn’t lost in her scrolls again. And I don’t want to call them for help! I’ll have to climb. Toe or no toe.”

  After climbing a few feet, Shioni worked out she could turn her left foot sideways and use the side of her toe, which hurt a lot less. She would work the dagger as deep as she could into the chink between two stones, then hang from it while she found good hand- and toe-holds higher up. But when she looked up, the fading circle of light seemed no closer than before. A raindrop struck her arm.

  Oh no! Shioni clung to the wall. The bottom was lost in the gloom. Her arms were shaking. Two of her fingernails were torn and bleeding. She had to go down again. That was the only answer. An unwelcome tear trickled down her cheek. She dashed it away angrily. Crying meant letting the warriors win! Crying was a waste of energy, and what good had crying ever done a sla
ve-girl anyway?

  A few feet lower, Shioni noticed that she was crossing a line of dry green slime on the wall. It had to be the old water-level. Her shoulders were burning. Her fingers, curling into claws from the cold and cramp. The rain was sifting down steadily. She had to rest again.

  Shioni was descending at a painful snail’s-pace, when she suddenly found the dagger slipping into a wider space between the stones. It wouldn’t hold. Rats! Horrible, beady rat eyes! She jabbed again, and twisted the blade about irately, as though that slim piece of metal was responsible for all her frustrations.

  Click.

  She yelped as a section of masonry suddenly swung inwards, taking the knife with it. Perhaps that was what saved her from a nasty fall. Shioni found herself sprawling in the mouth of a tunnel, which sloped steeply towards the surface. Her heart leaped like a frog in her chest! Perhaps there was another way out…

  Shioni scrambled to her feet, dusting off her knees and palms. Keeping one hand outstretched, and the other brushing the tunnel wall with a fingertip touch, she crept upward. Was this a secret tunnel? Where would it lead? Here and there roots had broken through the bricks and dangled in her face. Shioni found herself imagining giant spiders, centipedes, and bats. “I’m not afraid!” She tried a little laugh. “Just wait until Annakiya hears about this!”

  But her voice vanished in the tunnel as though it had been swallowed by an unseen beast.

  After a long time, the tunnel broadened out and seemed to become lighter. Shioni found herself entering a large grotto, although it took her a few moments to understand what she was seeing. The chamber was roughly circular. Light was filtering down from somewhere above. And the ceiling was supported by what she took at first for columns of stone. But as she touched one she realised her mistake. They were roots, each thicker than her waist. She must be right beneath the giant baobab!

  As though tugged by strings, Shioni moved forward between the massive tree roots. In the dim half-light she could just make out a stone pedestal in the centre of the grotto. Was that a bottle standing on the pedestal? As she moved closer, she began to sense that there might be something inside it. How very odd. A bottle… hidden in a secret cave? Yes, definitely, and it was stirring…