The Stolen Lake Part 17

'If you are committed to reclaim the lake for Queen Ginevra, of course you must do so,' Caradog said suavely. 'The storm will abate very soon; you may set out at daybreak.'

Dido thought she noticed a calculating gleam in his eye. There's one as'll bear watching, she thought; cunning as an old weasel or my name ain't Twite. Had poor Elen shut in a cave, was going to chuck her in the lake, but we don't hear anything about that now, oh, no! b.u.t.ter wouldn't melt on his whiskers. If Mr Holy is King Arthur come back, what's it matter to Old Nibs there whether the lake is put back or not? And who does he remind me of? Who else has a long neb like that?

Her reflections were interrupted at this point by a tremendous fanfare of bocinas and bamboo trumpets outside the door, together with shouts of, 'Guardian, there! Ho, Guardian! Open up!'

'Who is it?' demanded Caradog suspiciously.

's.e.xtus Lucius Trevelyan, officer-in-command, second division, Wandesborough Frontier Patrol. You know my voice, you old spider! Come on, open up! We've heard a tale that you have the princess Elen with you.'

'And who in the name of Nodens told you that?' muttered old Caradog, hobbling to unbar the door, which he had bolted behind hin.

9.

On the second day of Captain Hughes's captivity a new prisoner was thrust, cursing and struggling, through the door that led into the circular series of rooms at the top of the Wen Pendragon tower.

To the captain's surprise the newcomer turned out to be none other than Silver Taffy, who was equally startled at finding his commanding officer in the town jail.

'By jings, sir, I never expected to see you in such a place, and that's a fact! Whatever reason did those sons of pigs fetch out for casting you in the lock-up?'

The discovery of the captain's incarceration seemed to have done a certain amount towards reconciling Silver Taffy to his own; he grinned broadly, displaying most of his well-polished teeth.

At first Captain Hughes felt inclined to stand on his dignity with this rogue, who had virtually gone absent without leave and who was, after all, originally a pirate. On the other hand, the captain was becoming heartily impatient with his confinement; Mr Brandywinde made a miserable fellow-inmate, for he could do nothing but sit rocking back and forth, lamenting over his wife and child and his limp, paralysed hands. At least Silver Taffy, though ruffianly, was lively and quick-witted, and might become a possible ally in a scheme that the captain was turning over in his mind; so, very much more amiably than might have been expected, he replied, 'The queen (who, I am persuaded, has windmills in her head) is holding me hostage while Lieutenant Windward undertakes a mission for her to King Mabon of Lyonesse. It is a perfectly disgraceful outrage that an officer of His Majesty's Navy should be used so after all, I have amba.s.sadorial status! but what use to protest? The woman is clearly unhinged. What of yourself, fellow? I trust that you are not incarcerated here for criminal activities?'

His voice did not suggest that he expected his hopes to be fulfilled.

Silver Taffy shrugged and winked.

'No, sir but it's something of a different case from yourself. I've always been in the free-trading line, you know, fetching b.u.t.ter and astrolabes and woollen goods and such stuff from Lyonesse to c.u.mbria without troubling the Customs! for Queen Ginevra she levies a crool high rate of duty on all merchandise as comes in.'

'You were a smuggler, in other words,' snapped the captain.

'If you choose to call it so, sir,' said Silver Taffy with dignity. 'We prefers to call them Benefactors.'

'Very well!'

'I was a Benefactor, bringing goods through the mountains by a secret way. But them c.u.mbrian Customs guards, with those d.a.m.ned red-and-white h.e.l.lhounds of theirs ' (here Mr Brandywinde gave a shuddering whimper) 'grew so active and fidgety that it became harder and harder to dodge 'em. So me and my mates got us a brig, and took to sea, running up and down the coast from Santa Genista to the port o' Tenby. Well, then, by an' by, my auntie, she got in touch with me.'

'Your auntie?'

'My auntie Ettarde, she as is First Lady o' the Bedchamber and Mistress o' the Queen's Robes. My family is Quality, Captain, I'd have you know,' said Silver Taffy with dignity, 'though for myself I've always been partial to a roving life.' His teeth flashed again as he grinned, wearing the sly expression that had always made Dido mistrust him. 'My auntie, she said to me, "You've got a s.h.i.+p, David, and if you do a private errand for Her Mercy, I daresay she will be prepared to overlook certain activities of yours which are otherwise liable to get you dropped into the Severn river one o' these days for the pescadilloes to scrunch up." "Any way I can serve Her Mercy," says I, "o' course I'll be proud and willing." So then she told me as how King Mabon's daughter fresh from boarding-school had sailed out o' Bristol, England, on the Maypole, and how it'd be worth her weight in gold bezants to me if I could see this princess conveyed safe to Queen Ginevra, who would love her like an auntie.'

'You abducted the princess, you villain?' exclaimed Captain Hughes. 'So King Mabon was right in his suspicions! The queen did have the princess all along. But to what purpose?'

'As to that,' said Silver Taffy cautiously, 'he that asks no questions don't get his tongue chopped out, like those poor grey ghosts o' sentries round the palace. Yes, I did pick up the princess, an' I had her conveyed to my Auntie Ettarde. Well, just after that, I got tempted north-east'ards by a very pretty prize that was coming up from Patagonia a Hanoverian merchantman. I thought I'd slip her in my pocket afore travelling up to Bath City for to claim my reward from Her Mercy. But blow me, Cap'n Hughes, if I don't run up agin you in the Thrush, an' all my plans go aggly. And I get took prisoner and lose my s.h.i.+p and have to work as a common seaman. But then, what happens? Why, the old Thrush herself runs down to Tenby, and I hear you're a-going to visit Queen Ginevra your own self. So all I have to do is sit tight, and I have a free pa.s.sage to my own front door.'

'And then, you rogue?' inquired the captain, interested, in spite of his strong disapproval.

'Why, when I did get to see my Auntie Ettarde, she and I had a difference as to fee. I found out she was a-, keeping four-fifths o' what the queen had paid her, and pa.s.sing on to me only a measly one-fifth. "If I was to pa.s.s word to King Mabon about what you did," says I to her (for I'm in Lyonesse as often as not, and could easy drop word along, annie-nonnie-mousily); "if King Mabon was to learn what you did, your life wouldn't be worth a lead bezant. He'd send his agents over into c.u.mbria somehow, and have you tressicated!" '

'Why, you treacherous dog!' said the captain indignantly. 'You yourself were implicated just as deeply in the plot to steal Mabon's daughter." '

'Ay, sir, but at least I'm an honest rogue,' said Silver Taffy in an injured tone. 'It was Auntie keeping four-fifths of the takings when she'd promised me half that I couldn't stomach. I'm a hard man to cheat, sir; I can't abear it. Howsumdever my Auntie Ettarde is a tough nut likewise, and deep as a well, furthermore. "Oh" says she, "so that's your lay, is it? Well," says she, "I'll make a bargain. Fetch in that other la.s.s, that young supercargo from the Thrush, liddle Miss Twiddletwite, and you shall have half the price for the pair." "Done, Auntie," says I sapskull that I am and off I goes, thinking 'twould be an easy matter to pop Twite in the bag along with Mabon's la.s.s. I had one try, and missed her; then, blow me if she didn't travel off into the wilds with Windward and the rest. And then blow me furder, if half a dozen o' them grey militia dummies don't grab me and sling me in here. And I know why, too it's so Auntie don't have to pay me her lawful share. It's her doing! She has Queen Ginevra's ear close as clams, they be. But I'll get even with her, so I will, when I'm out of the derwent-house.'

Captain Hughes looked at him thoughtfully.

'But how do you know you ever will get out?' he said. 'Your aunt appears to be in a position of very great power. It might be in her interest to persuade the queen that you should stay here for a long time -perhaps for the rest of your life.'

'Aye: don't think I haven't thought the same,' said Silver Taffy. 'But I'm a peevy man to diddle, as Auntie Ettarde will learn, and a hard man to fasten down. I'd not have stayed in the Thrush if it hadn't suited my book. It's odds but I'll find some way out o' the coop.'

'If you are of that mind,' said Captain Hughes, 'you and I may yet be of service to one another. It's no use expecting aid or sense from that poor wretch -' glancing exasperatedly at the lachrymose Mr Brandywinde -. 'your aunt seems to have bewitched him; or he thinks she has, which comes to the same thing. He has lost the use of his hands.'

'Aye, she can play that sort o' trick on a poor softie like him,' said Taffy scornfully. None the less, Captain Hughes noticed that he made the figure-eight sign, glancing nervously over his shoulder. 'The sooner we're out o' here, Cap'n, the better pleased I'll be. Did you have any special notion in mind?'

'Why yes. I have been exercising my wits to some purpose. Come through here and I will show you.'

And Captain Hughes led the way to the chamber where there were paints, paper and drawing-materials.

'Look -' he indicated a mathematical diagram on a large sheet of paper. 'I have not been wasting my time in here! The design is done. But the construction requires two people because these struts, here, have to be bent and held in shape while the fabric is stretched over them. And poor Brandywinde is quite useless for that.'

Silver Taffy bent over the design, and presently a s.h.i.+mmering silver smile split his face.

'Why, Cap'n!' he said. 'You were wasted aboard the Thrus.h.!.+ You ought to spend your days a-visiting poor coves in prison!'

The journey from Lake Arianrod to the court of King Mabon was achieved in a considerably shorter time than Lieutenant Windward had reckoned. This was due to the fact that King Mabon, grief-stricken at the loss of his child, and requiring distraction, had undertaken a tour of his kingdom, and was, the travellers learned, about to preside over the quarterly a.s.size sessions at his sheep capital of Wandesborough, hardly fifty miles from the frontier.

At the spanking pace set by the Frontier Patrol on their picked mountain mules, swift rangy beasts, short-tempered and sure-footed, it took the party less than a day to reach the a.s.size town. Wandesborough, like Bath Regis, lay in a great upland basin, but its surroundings were green and fertile, kept temperate by balmy breezes from the slopes of Mount Catelonde. For this reason the last four hours of the journey were enlivened by the continuous bleating of sheep which were pastured in enormous numbers on the high gra.s.sy slopes.

'What a deal of wool and mutton they must export,' remarked Lieutenant Windward.

He said this to Dido, kindly trying to divert her mind, for he thought she looked very mopish and down-pin. Not even the friendly escort of the legionaries in their short red tunics and mules'-hair-plumed helmets, or being mounted on a crack cavalry mule, seemed to put any heart in her. She only muttered, 'I daresay,' in reply to Windward's well-meant remark.

'Come, cheer up, little 'un,' said Mr Multiple. 'I reckon when King Mabon hears he's got his daughter back, he'll hand over Queen Ginevra's lake without any roundaboutation, and we'll be posting back to Bath again in the twinkling of a pig's tail. And once she has her blessed piece of water back, not to mention her husband, if Mr Holystone is really that, which I, for one, take with a bushel of salt then she'll let Cap'n Hughes go, and we can all be on our way. And I tell you what,' he added generously, 'I'll go cahoots with you in some of my sparklers, for I've got enough to make us both into Nabobs!'

But even this promise failed to arouse any enthusiasm in Dido. She said, 'Thanks, Mr Mully,' in a flat little voice, and continued to gaze glumly at her saddle-bow, or, sometimes, ahead, to where Mr Holystone and Princess Elen rode in silence side by side.

It is a considerable shock when somebody you have known (you thought) very well indeed, and have been fond of, proves to be not only a completely different person from the one you believed to be your friend, but also not to remember you at all. If, on top of that, he turns out to be a king, reborn after thirteen hundred years, the shock is greater still. And if, into the bargain, he is married to one of the wickedest and most horrible people you have ever met, you can hardly help feeling very unhappy about it. Especially if he seems to be showing rather too much interest in a princess who certainly isn't his wife.

Not that Mr Holystone talked much to the princess; but all the way, on the journey, whether in motion or resting, they kept near to each other, and there seemed to be a kind of wordless communication going on between them.

What the d.i.c.kens does it matter to me? Dido said to herself crossly. If he rides beside her and helps her on and off her moke? I ain't in charge of 'em.

But she couldn't help thinking how very much Queen Ginevra would dislike it, if she knew that her newly recovered Rex Quondam, instead of making all possible speed back to Bath Regis, to greet his long-lost queen, was riding in precisely the opposite direction, by the side of a much younger, and very beautiful, princess.

The queen'll never let Cap'n Hughes out of prison at this rate, Dido thought gloomily. And we can't go off and leave poor old Cap hobbled up in c.u.mbria. And it's bezants to breadcrumbs she'll grab the lot of us if we go back have our heads shrunk, or our tongues cut out, or drop us in the river for those pesky fish to guzzle.

Dido's thoughts were far from cheerful.

However when they were about five miles from Wandesborough, they saw a mounted party approaching them at full gallop, accompanied by waving banners and the sound of bocinas; and the little brown-faced, roly-poly man on a fiery mountain pony in the lead proved to be none other than King Mabon himself, impatient for reunion with his daughter. He flung himself off his mount and ran to embrace her, then turned to address her rescuers in a flood of joyful Latin. As this was received by all except Mr Windward and Mr Holystone with blank faces, he switched to English.

'Heroes you are indeed, everyone of you! My grat.i.tude to the end of your days you will be having. Anything in Lyonesse is yours for the asking Well, well, now, what a big bonny girl you have grown, cariad! I can see Miss Castlereagh fed you all those years on milk and honey, even if you are a bit skinny just now, with you,' he added, giving Elen another hug. 'And plenty of learning to go with the bonny looks, I am hoping?'

'Oh yes, Papa, I can speak seven languages, and Professor Crumhorn gave me AA for Disputation, and I have reached the second part of the Calculus.'

'There, now! A bluestocking I have got myself! But as for that Ginevra,' said King Mabon, suddenly becoming formidable, 'as for that fiend in human form, boiling in oil would be too good for her. She should be -'

'But, Dadda -'

'Well, what?'

'Gwydion is married to her!'

'What?'

'They say that Cousin Gwydion is Queen Ginevra's Rex Quondam.'

'Who says?'

'Caradog, the old Guardian and Gwydion himself says it -'

The Guardian, however, had prudently seen fit to make himself scarce and disappear during the bustle of departure from the Pa.s.s of Nimue.

King Mabon said to Mr Holystone, 'Is this so, my boy? Are you Mercurius Artaius? Are you the Pendragon?'

'Yes; it is true,' said Mr Holystone, who still looked very tired.

'Then I salute you, my liege lord, and offer you fealty,' said King Mabon, going down without more ado on one k.n.o.bbly knee. This was not comfortable for him, since he wore a toga and short tunic, and the ground was stony; he kissed Holystone's hand, then briskly stood up again. 'But, my boy, how is it you never knew that before? All those years, when you used to visit us as a child, and play with Elen and her brothers -'

'His time had not yet come,' interposed Bran, who now, greatly to Dido's astonishment, limped out from among King Mabon's escorting troop. I suppose it was him as pa.s.sed word that Elen was up there in the stable, Dido thought. Bran wore a white tunic and purple toga. A page-boy carried his c.o.c.katoo. He went on, 'No use to ask the chrysalis why it is not a b.u.t.terfly. The hour had not yet struck nor the hilt of Caliburn come to his hand.'

'But bless me this puts an entirely new complexion on the matter -' King Mabon ran a hand through his dark hair, which was cut short, Roman fas.h.i.+on. 'Married to Ginevra, you are? Shocking pity that is, indeed! I don't mind telling you, some nasty rumours have been coming through about her, these twenty years and more. Still,' he added, not very hopefully, 'maybe now you are returned to her she will be a bit more neighbourly. Closed her frontier, she did, years back, and the tales that trickle out from c.u.mbria I would sooner not be believing.'

'I reckon they're all true, mister king,' said Dido, who saw no reason why she should not take part in this discussion.

'And who might you be, my dear?' King Mabon turned his intense, dark, very intelligent eyes on her.

'Why this is Dido, Papa, who rescued me; she helped me out of the cave.'

'Then it's welcome you are as lambs in spring,' said King Mabon. 'But why are we all standing like this in the fosseway? Let us go back directly to Wandesborough so that the feasting may commence.'

They remounted, the troop of legionaries riding ahead, the frontier patrol behind, and King Mabon and his daughter's rescuers in the middle.

King Mabon talked hard all the way.

'Now you are back, my boy and delighted I am, though I won't say it wasn't a surprise -'

Wonder what Cap'n Hughes'll say when he finds his steward's a king, Dido thought.

' -Unification of the three kingdoms need for a strong, guiding hand,' King Mabon was continuing. 'Danger from Biru, from Patagonia, and the Southern Incas -'

Mr Holystone seemed to have little to say. He remained silent and listened.

Bran, who, despite his wooden leg, appeared able to ride a mule without any difficulty, came alongside Dido. Noticing her despondent looks, he broke into one of his little songs, sung very softly for her alone: 'I like the way

You say my name

None other says it

Quite the same

The syllables sing like the notes of a song

When you say it, I wish it were five times as long!

So when I die