Читать книгу Legend of the Three Moons - Patricia Bernard - Страница 7

They woke next morning to Malcolm Leftfoots's dog barking just as Emma arrived with six bowls of porridge.

`Don't worry about Duffy,' Malcolm apologised, taking a bowl of porridge, `He be old and irritable like me.'

Lem rubbed the old dog's side. `It's because his bones ache from when he fell off the cliff.'

Malcolm stared bug-eyed at him. `Now how would you know about that?'

Lem was trying to think of something to say other than he understood dog talk, when Lyla answered for him. `I dreamt it and told him.'

Malcolm slurped at his porridge then growled at her. `Did I not warn you about being a dream-rider, boy?'

Lyla nodded and threw Lem a warning look.

They were almost through their second bowls of porridge when Malcolm asked Lyla what her name was.

She couldn't very well say Lyla, it not being a boy's name, so she named herself after the thing she'd just been looking at. `Spear. My name is Spear.'

Malcolm then pointed at Celeste. `And this one with the yellow hair in 100 braids.'

Catching sight of Splash wound around Celeste's wrist, Lyla told him Celeste's name was `Splash.'

He pointed at the boys. `And them three?'

Lyla was thinking about what to call them when Lem answered for her. `My name is Wolf. The one with the four brown braids is named Tree. And the one with the white curls is...'

`Arrow,' said Swift. `Because I'm good with the bow.'

Malcolm eyed each of them one at a time. `Strange names and strange clothing.' Then, nodding at Lyla, he added, `And your face be familiar. I must have seen you before.'

Lyla put down her empty porridge bowl. `I doubt it, Master Leftfoot, as we live far from here.'

`And where be that?'

`It's called the Forest.' Before he could ask any more questions, she asked him how they could reach Wartstoe Village and how long it would take.

`If you have a brain between you, you'll not be goin' there,' he grunted.

Lem leant closer to Duffy and let the old dog lick the last of his porridge from his finger. `Has Duffy been to Wartstoe Village?'

`Aye. When we went to see Edith to ask where the Raiders had taken my wife. And fair scared out of our wits we both were.'

Celeste put down her bowl. `Did she tell you where to find your wife?'

`All the old fraud said was that my Elsie could sing like a bird and lay an egg if she had a mind to. What rubbish be that? Still, I paid her a brace of rabbits. I wanted no curses put on me, nor old Duffy eaten alive by her snarling curs or her spirit dogs.'

Celeste stroked Splash gently, a thing she did when she was nervous. Who wouldn't be nervous about someone who owned spirit dogs? `Are there no other oracles we could visit?'

The old man shook his shaggy head. `None. They be all burned as witches.'

Lem shrugged. `Then we'll have to go to Wartstoe Village.'

`That be so,' said Malcolm, clicking his fingers for Duffy to come to heel.

`But Edith will do naught for naught. She'll want a brace of rabbits as payment. And you'll need another two for the bridge toll. And on your way back you could bring us two. We be fair tired of fish. Now you had best get a move on if you want to be in Wartstoe Village by tomorrow.'

They picked up their weapons and bags and followed him into the entrance hall where the other seven guardians were waiting to say goodbye. Or, more likely, make sure they left!

With the morning sun shining through its ruined roof, the entrance hall wasn't as frightening as it had been the night before. When Lyla peered up through the hole in the ceiling, she saw the peeling remnants of the M'dgassy royal family portraits, painted on the walls of the second floor. And there was a portrait of three dark-haired, black-eyed princesses standing with their arms around each other.

Malcolm opened the palace's doors.

`Thank you for your hospitality,' said Lyla, averting her face so that none of the guardians would notice how closely she might resemble one of the princesses. Celeste certainly did, and Lyla was thrilled to have gazed, even for a moment, on the faces of her mother and aunts. Even if she hadn't known which was which.

`Thank you for mending my foot, Miss Bethy Bee. It feels much better,' said Swift, bowing to the younger woman.

`And for the stew and porridge, Mistress Emma,' said Chad, bowing to the old woman.

Blushing red, the old woman handed Chad a cloth-wrapped parcel. `It be a piece of fish each. You'll be needing it as you won't reach Wartstoe Village this day.'

`Nor tomorrow morning,' said Bethy Bee, handing Swift a handkerchief full of plums. Then, while wagging her finger at him to emphasise her words, she warned him: not to cross the toll bridge if they had no payment; not to travel through Snake Tree Woods at night; and to take care when climbing the cliff track to Wartstoe Village because it be used by fierce bandits and Huntsmen who would skin them alive if they caught them.

`What are snake trees?' Lem asked Malcolm Leftfoot as they reached the bottom of the staircase. `And is that true what Miss Bethy Bee said about the bandits and the Huntsmen?'

`It's all true, every word. The snake trees will crush and eat you, and the plateau be the home of the Huntsmen and bandits who will both steal the skin off your body and toss your corpse over a cliff. Only difference being, the Huntsmen will do it faster.'

He then pointed to an overgrown path meandering through a dead rose garden. `Follow that to the moon dial. Turn east and walk through the dead rose gardens to the Royal Woods. Three to four hours walking along the Royal Wood's path will bring you to Abel Penny's bridge. Take care of him. He be a nasty piece of goods, bewitched by the High Enchanter.'

They thanked him and as they set off across the lawn he stood, hands on hips, watching them go.

Swift hurried up beside Lem. `Lem, do you think he was making it up about the snake trees and the bandits and Huntsmen?'

`The snake trees, yes. The Huntsmen and bandits, maybe not.'

It took them half an hour to walk to the moon dial and another to reach the Royal Woods. The track through was unused, overgrown and narrow. One step off it and the thorn bushes tore at their boots, capes, arms and legs, so they were forced to walk in single file. During the next four hours, as noon came and went, they didn't see a bird, person or animal which made it very difficult to capture anything to pay for their toll.

So they were empty-handed when Lem ventured out of the trees onto a wide wagon track and there in front of him was the humped-stone toll bridge.

Dozing in a chair in the middle of the bridge and blocking the way across, lolled an enormously fat man with large, pudgy feet resting on four pink cushions. Backing into the woods Lem told the others what he'd seen and they all discussed what they should do.

With nothing for the toll they decided to cut through the woods, find the river and swim across it. They had just stepped off the path when they heard loud voices coming from the wagon track, so they peeked through the trees.

Three farmers were pulling a sack-filled wagon towards the bridge. On seeing the sleeping toll master, the farmers stopped pulling and one of them crept towards the snoring man. He put just one foot onto the bridge...

The toll master woke up in a flash.

As did the pink cushions beneath his feet - revealing themselves to be four fat pigs.

`Pay your toll! Or get off my bridge!'

The farmer backed off quickly. `Aye, we will, Abel Penny! We will! One sack of potatoes for going and one for returning.'

The toll master shook his head. `It be two sacks for going and two sacks for returning. Paid in advance because I don't trust you.'

The farmer's face flushed angrily. `That be robbery, Abel Penny!'

`Pay up or don't cross.'

The farmer returned to the wagon to talk with the other farmers. Then with nods to each other the three stepped between the wagon's shafts and took a run at the bridge. `Out of our way you pig-faced thief or we'll run your thieving body down,' shouted the first farmer.

`I don't think so,' hollered the toll master who, with each step the men took towards him, was growing taller and wider.

`He's filling the bridge,' breathed Swift, his eyes almost popping out of his head.

`Look at the pigs,' gasped Chad.

The pigs had grown along with their master and were now as big as bullocks, with snouts the size of buckets and teeth as large as cobblestones. They pawed at the bridge's surface with trotters larger than horses hooves.

`Bite them,' yelled the giant toll master. `Savage them! Hurt them!'

The giant pigs galloped towards the farmers who scrambled to the top of their potato sacks. Unable to reach the men, the angry pigs buffeted and pushed at the wagon, trying to capsize it.

`They're going to be hurt!' cried kind-hearted Celeste. `We should help them!'

`Wait,' whispered Lem with his hand on her shoulder to restrain her.

`Very well. We will pay four sacks,' shouted the terrified farmers. `Stop your beasts before they shove us into the river and you get naught.'

With a click of his immense fingers the toll master summoned his pets to his side, and he and the pigs began to shrink until he was again just a fat-bellied, piggy-looking man.

Four sacks later the wagon had crossed the bridge and Abel Penny was asleep again.

`I wonder if pigs can swim,' whispered Lyla, holding a thorn-covered branch aside for the others.

Celeste made a horrified face. `I hope not. I don't fancy being chased by a giant swimming pig.'

`You could always dive to the bottom of the river and stay there,' said Swift.

`And what about the rest of you?' argued Celeste.

They pushed on through the thick undergrowth of the Royal Woods, their faces, arms and legs being cut and scratched by thorns with every step.

Finally they reached a bend in the river that was out of sight of the bridge and the sleeping tollman.

It was, as Swift felt he had to point out, a very wide and fast-moving river with nothing to hang onto to stop them from being swept away.

The others agreed and, after much discussion, decided that the only way to cross was to creep back to the bridge along the riverbank and cross the river by swimming from one pylon to the next.

`Without Abel Penny seeing us,' emphasised Celeste.

`Food first,' Chad insisted.

So they rested by the water, and ate Emma's fish and Bethy Bee's plums, before setting off.

Lyla tied her rope to the others belts so that they would not be swept away then, holding the jewellery box above her head, she slid into the fast-moving water and swam with one arm to the first pylon. `Deep,' she mouthed back.

Placing Splash on top of her head, and with Chad holding onto her shoulders, Celeste swam after her. Next went Lem and Swift paddling from pylon to pylon.

They had all reached the central pylon when a shout of anger exploded above them.

`I know you're there. I can smell you. And I never forget a smell. You owe me a toll and when you get out, you'll pay it or I'll set my pigs upon you!'

They all glanced worriedly at each other.

`No good keeping silent you thieving robbers! Juicy dinners for my pigs, that's what you'll be!'

It was the fear in Swift's eyes that made up Lyla's mind. `We don't have anything to pay you with until we fetch it from Wartstoe Village. Then we can pay you double,' she shouted up at the toll master. `But if your pigs eat us you'll get nothing!'

The toll master and his four pigs leant over the bridge wall searching for them, but the children kept to the shadows.

`What will your double toll payment be?' he yelled.

`Whatever you choose!' Lyla yelled back.

His piggy eyes narrowed greedily. `Two casks of ale?'

`Two casks of ale it is. But you have to let us leave the river without your pigs harming us.'

There was a heavy silence and then the porcine-man began to laugh. He laughed so hard that the bridge shook and a shower of stones and mortar fell on top of the children's heads

Lem pushed Lyla and Celeste ahead of him. `Swim!' he urged.

Suddenly the toll master and his pigs spied them and the toll master's face turned puce with anger. `Just as I thought! Not a sack between you. How do you expect to trade for my ale?'

`We are information sellers,' yelled Lem, staring hard at the pigs.

`And what use be that?'

`It's very useful,' answered Lem, hoping to engage the toll master in conversation so that the others could escape. `For instance I know that your oldest pig has a decaying tooth that needs pulling. Your youngest pig has had a litter of nine female piglets and you wanted males. Your biggest pig bit you yesterday and your favourite beer is Du Lac Du Mont ale.'

The toll master's mouth dropped open in amazement. `How would you know all that?'

`I told you! We are information sellers.'

A sly look came over the toll master's piggy face. `Then answer me this and I will let you go unharmed. But if you get it wrong you must pay me four casks of ale. Agreed?'

`Agreed.'

`Who is the more powerful? The High Enchanter or General Tulga? Who gave me my magical talents and why? And who will punish me if I misuse them?'

Lem glanced at the pigs then he answered. `The High Enchanter is the most powerful. He gave you and your pigs the power to grow larger in return for your spying on the Royal Palace of M'dgassy. But it is General Tulga who will punish you if you misuse your powers. Now will you let us go?'

`I will, but if you rob me, I will find you. I never forget a smell!'

With the bridge behind them, Snake Tree Woods ahead and only one hour before sunset, the children hurried along the track hoping to catch up to the farmers.

`Do you want to know what else his pigs told me?' asked Lem, with a secretive grin on his face.

The others nodded.

`They said Abel Penny can turn himself into a pig that can gallop faster than a horse.'

`I don't believe that,' scoffed Chad.

`I do,' said Swift.

Lem's grin grew wider. `They also said that when General Tulga and his Raiders ravaged M'dgassy, that General Tulga carried away a black eagle chained to his left wrist.'

`A chained eagle,' gasped Lyla.

`Exactly.'