The Stolen Lake Part 18

Pray don't feel glum

But simply write

Upon my tomb

Forget his career; but tell this to his credit

His name sounded best in the way that she said it!'

'Your songs are downright silly sometimes,' said Dido crossly. 'And how did you get here, anyway? You belong in c.u.mbria. And the frontier is closed, King Mabon said.'

'Smugglers, minstrels, and messengers travel where they choose,' Bran said. 'And a good storyteller is welcome anywhere. Shall I tell you a story, child? You appear somewhat despondent.'

'Despondent?' said Dido. 'D'you expect me to be as chirpy as a cricket? Cap'n Hughes is in jail, and Mr Holystone says he's Arthur come back, so so he's married to that hateful woman.' Her voice wavered. To cover this she added quickly. 'D'you reckon that's true?'

Despite his oddity, she felt sure that Bran would know, and give her a true answer. But instead of replying directly, he said, 'Once there was a wicked rich man who had gained all his riches by despoiling his neighbours. He had particularly abused a man called Abel, taking his land unlawfully, bearing false witness against him; in the end he had Abel turned out of his home. Abel, penniless, became a sailor, and was absent from his homeland for many years, and came back no richer than he had gone. But when he did come back, Cain, the rich man, was dying; all his ill-won riches could not protect him from death. And as he lay tossing and turning on his velvet couch, he was tormented by one desperate feverish craving. "In all my life I have never heard the sound of the sea! Oh, if I could but hear the sound of the waves beating on the sh.o.r.e, I believe I might recover. Or at least I could die happy." But the sea was many thousands of leagues away. Now, as you know, you can hear the sound of the sea if you hold a sh.e.l.l to your ear. There was only one man in the town who possessed a sh.e.l.l, and that was Abel. The sh.e.l.l, indeed, was his only possession. But when he heard of his enemy's wish, he carried the sh.e.l.l to Cain's house, and said, "Here it is; listen to it by all means if you think it will ease you." And Cain held the sh.e.l.l to his ear, and his face contorted with rage and envy. " You have had this all these years, while I parched on the dry land?" he cried. "But I will take it from you now!" And he crushed the sh.e.l.l between his hands, and, so doing, he died. But Abel said, "I can still listen to the wind. Its voice is as sweet as the voice of the sea." '

'Just the same,' said Dido indignantly, 'that rich man was a pig. A real pig! Did Abel get his things back after Cain died?'

'As to that,' Bran said, 'I can't tell you. But see, here we are, arriving in Wandesborough.'

The a.s.size town was very different from Bath Regis. It was laid out geometrically, a small walled town of neat thatched Roman villas, built strongly of clay and wattle, and all painted white. Mabon was staying in the Governor's house, which was simply a bigger villa, with a large square inner court containing the usual fountain and cactuses.

King Mabon instantly set his stewards to organising a feast in the main hall, and dispatched messengers to Lyonesse City to make arrangements for the return of Lake Arianrod.

'Fair's fair,' he said. 'Let no one claim I don't keep my word. I have my child, the old woman can have her pond. And furthermore, I'll send it back faster than I took it.' He chuckled. 'My Master of Irrigation has hatched up a plan to s.h.i.+p it back by a series of air-balloons, helped by the updraught over Mount Catelonde which will be a deal quicker and cheaper than all those llamas.'

'How did you manage to remove it without the Guardian's knowledge?' inquired Mr Windward.

'My spies picked a couple of nights when he was down in Bath reporting to the queen, which he does twice a month.'

What a deal of trouble would have been saved, Dido thought, if the spies had only found the princess. I'd have been home, by this time, and Cap'n Hughes wouldn't be in jail.

While the mutton was roasting for the feast they all lolled on warm earthenware couches shaped like the letter P laid on its side. The villa was centrally heated by underground ducts from Pampoyle and Catelonde. They reclined against wool-stuffed cus.h.i.+ons and drank mead, while Bran played his harp and sang. Elen and Mr Holystone sat side by side, apparently listening to the music, not talking to one another. Dido felt a painful tightness in her chest, either at the music or the sight of them, so she moved over and listened, instead, to King Mabon discussing with the English officers the state of affairs in New c.u.mbria.

'Bad as it can be, and no better in Hy Brasil,' Mabon was saying. 'Gwydion's foster-brother Ccaedmon -lucky the relations.h.i.+p is no closer, proper tyrant he is turned the whole country into a big-game preserve, evicted half his subjects from their homes. Cuts off the peasants' hands if they catch so much as a guinea-pig.'

'A guinea-pig, sir?'

'Indeed yes! Cui, they call them hereabouts because of the sound, you know-' King Mabon imitated a guinea-pig's squeak so realistically that the Governor's cat shot into the room and began searching suspiciously under the couches. 'Or,' the-king went on, 'some say it is short for cui-cui-modo. Guinea-pigs used to be the staple diet in Hy Brasil until Ccaedmon declared that they belonged to the Crown.' He glanced over at Holystone and his daughter. His brow clouded slightly. He called, 'Gwydion, my boy!'

Holystone rose a little reluctantly and came across the room.

'Sir?'

Dido caught a queer polite echo of Captain Hughes's steward.

'Now, now, boyo, it is I who should be calling you sir,' Mabon said, clapping him on the shoulder. 'Only it comes hard with a lad I taught to cast his first trout-fly. Queer it must be for you, indeed, and difficult to take it all in.'

'Oh, why,' burst out Holystone, looking hara.s.sed and miserable, 'why must this happen to me? Why should I, of all people, be brought back in this way? To what end?'

'As to why you, bless me if I know!' said King Mabon frankly. 'But it had to be someone, now, didn't it? And when you ask to what end haven't I just been saying? Gracious to goodness, why this whole region with the exception of Lyonesse, which, I pride myself, is as peaceful and prosperous a little country as you could hope to visit the whole of Roman America apart from that is in a disgraceful condition of tyranny, anarchy and misrule. Time it was the High King came back; someone who will be accepted by the people and set matters to rights. Are they still head-hunting in c.u.mbria?' he asked Windward.

'Indeed yes, sir; I gather it is a thriving practice.'

'And the things that go on in Biru you'd never believe brigandage cannibalism I believe they even sacrifice their grandmothers to Sul. Grandmothers! And in the streets of Manoa you daren't go out at night because robbers make off with the silver manhole-covers; you could fall straight into the sewers and get washed away. No, no, my dear Gwydion Artaius time it is you came back, not a moment too soon indeed. And then there's your good lady over in c.u.mbria time some of her habits were taken in hand.'

Holystone looked even more unhappy.

'Have you ever met her, sir?'

'Not I, my boy! Won't cross her frontiers; won't receive foreign rulers. But these gentlemen have met her, I believe.'

Multiple shook his head. Lieutenant Windward said, 'The young lady has talked to her more than I have.'

'Have you indeed, my dear? And lived to tell the tale? Uncommon, that is,' King Mabon said. 'Tell us what she is like, then, eh?'

How to describe someone who is both wicked and sentimental, self-centred, silly, and terrifyingly powerful? Dido's usual readiness of tongue deserted her; and besides, it was, after all, poor Mr Holystone's wife they were talking about; and he looked glum enough already.

After some thought, Dido muttered, 'She sure wants Mr Holy back. She don't think of much else. She wanted me to try and gull King Mabon into believing I was his daughter. So she'd get the lake back.'

She looked up into Mr Holystone's sad grey eyes.

'You have seen Guinevere?' he said slowly. 'Is she -is she much changed?'

'How'd I know?' Dido said crossly. 'I dunno what she was like afore, do I? All I know is, she's been waiting a plaguy long time and it's upset her. She'd be the better for not having that mess o' havey-cavey old witches round her, too Lady Ettarde, and Morgan, and the other one. Well, one of 'em's dead,' she added thoughtfully, remembering the scene at Elen's rescue.

'Which one?' inquired Bran, who had joined the group. His voice was sharp with interest. Dido glanced at him in surprise.

'I'd have thought that you'd know, mister! It's the one as called herself Mrs Vavasour.'

An odd look came into Bran's face sorrow, compounded with relief. He lifted his shoulders as if a weight had fallen from them. And his c.o.c.katoo flew across the room and perched on his wrist.

Dido wondered what Bran's connection had been with the witch-dressmaker. But Princess Elen had now followed Holystone, and sat down by her father, who tucked his arm round her affectionately. She said, 'Mrs Vavasour is dead? I am glad of that.' She s.h.i.+vered, and went on, 'She told me she had set a snake to watch me, outside the cave entrance, and that it would grow and double its size every day, and could see me through the crack and would bite me if I tried to get out. I I didn't really believe her, but I used to think I could hear it hissing.'

'Ugh! How could you bear it, Ma'am?' said Multiple with a shudder. 'I can't abide snakes.'

'I daresay most of their witcheries are no more than mumbo-jumbo, done to frighten credulous folk,' said Mabon.

'But that owl did turn into Mrs Vavasour,' said Dido. 'It ain't all mumbo-jumbo.' And there was my reflection in the mirror, she thought.

Elen said, 'Bran used to tell us when we were children that witchcraft was the wickedness in several people's minds combining to form something worse still. Like making poison by mixing things that are harmless taken singly.' She looked into Holystone's face wistfully. 'Artaius? Gwydion? Can you really remember nothing of when we were children?'

He shook his head. 'Only a vagueness like a dream, half-caught.'

'You don't recall how you used to stay with us? Or that Bran, here, was your tutor?'

'The best pupil I ever had,' Bran said. 'He never had to stay in to learn his princ.i.p.al parts, as you and your brothers did, Princess.'

'Why can't I remember?' muttered Holystone, pressing his brow, as if to make a hole and let air into his brain.

'Some external force is blocking your mind for its own ends,' Bran told him. 'It is of no consequence. You know that you are the High King. Other memory will return in time.'

The Governor's cat had followed Elen, and now jumped into her lap.

'They still follow you, eh?' said her father. 'Did they do so in that English Bath? And what did Miss Castelreagh say to that?'

'Oh, she was a very kind lady, Dadda. She sent her dutiful respects to you, when I left, and gave me a pomander-ball and a copy of Dr Johnson's Dictionary of the English Language. The pomander-ball I lost when the pirates captured our s.h.i.+p, but the dictionary has proved very useful.'

'Nothing like a good vocabulary, I always say.' King Mabon beamed at his daughter. 'But look, supper's ready all your favourites, my dear. Roast mutton, bara brith and syllabub!'

10.

Since he had had no expectation of meeting his daughter when he first began his tour of the kingdom, King Mabon had brought no ladies-in-waiting with him. Dido kindly offered to perform this office for the princess until they reached Lyonesse City.

'As to that,' said Elen, 'personal maids weren't allowed at Miss Castelreagh's, so I managed for myself all the time I was at school. But I'd be glad if you would share my room, Dido; I still feel nervous when I think of that cave; if I listen, I think I can hear those old witches flapping and hissing outside.' She s.h.i.+vered uneasily.

'I've never been to school. Did you like it?' asked Dido, hoping to distract her.

'All but the embroidery. I must have st.i.tched at least eighteen miles of it in the nine years I was there! I made a vow that when I got back to Lyonesse I'd never touch a needle again.'

They were brus.h.i.+ng each other's hair with bunches of ichu gra.s.s. There was no looking-gla.s.s in the room, but Dido suddenly recollected that she still had Queen Ginevra's little diamond-studded hand-mirror, and pulled it from her jacket pocket.

'Why!' she said, pleased, 'my reflection's come back.'

'What can you mean?'

'Queen Ginevra took it.' Dido explained how her image had gone from the bowl and gla.s.ses.

'I daresay her power grows less the farther you are from Bath,' Elen suggested.

Dido wondered rather dismally what would happen to Mr Holystone when he returned to that city.

'Oh!' cried Elen, as if catching this thought. 'I can't bear it that he's married to that hateful woman. When he has gone back to c.u.mbria I shall probably never see him again.'

Dido saw that there were tears in the princess's eyes.

Poor thing, she thought. I used to reckon it'd be all jam and high jinks being a princess, but I guess that ain't so; they don't have it much better than ordinary folk.

'Come, cheer up,' she said gruffly. 'You can't ever tell how things'll turn out. Maybe they'll look better in the morning. Us had best get to bed.'

In the middle of the night, however, they were woken by a tap on the door. Dido, opening it cautiously, saw Mr Multiple, who had been posted outside to keep guard. He looked very strange pale, ghastly, and staring-eyed.

'Why, what's up, Mr Mully?'

'Quick don't make any noise, but follow me, both of you!' he whispered. 'There is horrible danger!' His freckles were black dots against the pallor of his cheeks, his red hair was dark and lank with sweat.

'What the blazes can it be? Where's Mr Holy and King Mabon and Bran?'

'Hus.h.!.+ Come outside and I will tell you! The princess top!'

Dido was disturbed and dubious, but Mr Multiple whispered, 'Please come!' with such urgency that Elen said, 'Very well, we will follow you,' and the two girls wrapped themselves in togas and tiptoed after him. He led them swiftly but silently to a side entrance that opened into a narrow lane beside the Governor's house. Dido, following him, noticed that he seemed oddly bulky; how'd he ever get so fat so fast? she wondered; he must have fairly tucked into that roast mutton and syllabub.

Outside, in the alley 'Now then, what is -?' Dido began, but before she could utter another syllable her hands were grabbed and tied behind her and she was lifted up and b.u.mped down uncomfortably on to the crupper of somebody's saddle. 'Make no sound!' a voice hissed in her ear. 'Do you feel this blade?' Dido nodded. A sharp point was jabbed between her ribs. 'It will gut you like a herring if you let out a single squeak.' Elen had been similarly pinioned and mounted. Looking in horror and outrage for Mr Multiple how could he have been capable of such treachery? Dido gasped with astonishment. An enormous snake which had been coiled round him under his jacket now dropped to the ground and slithered away into the shadows. Half-fainting with terror the wretched mids.h.i.+pman was also tied up and dragged on to a pony; then the troop of their captors there seemed to be nine or ten set off silently and speedily through the dark streets of Wandesborough. The ponies' hoofs were m.u.f.fled in sacking and made no sound. Dido thought they must surely be stopped when they came to the town gate, but no: evidently the sentries had been poisoned or drugged, for they lolled in their guard-boxes like limp marionettes and never stirred as the riders pa.s.sed by. Once outside the wall, the ponies' pace was increased to a gallop.

There was a little light from the old moon, which hung like a sliver of coconut in one corner of the sky, and Dido could see that they were taking a course at right-angles to that followed by King Mabon when he and his legionaries returned to the town. Best keep a watch for landmarks, Dido thought; not much else to be done just now.

There were few landmarks to be seen in this huge gra.s.sy basin, but they rode with the four stars of the Southern Cross behind them and to the right, which must mean that they were heading north-east; and away to the left a red glow, and occasional sparkles in the sky, suggested that Mount Catelonde was fretting and fidgeting as Mr Holystone had done in his haunted sleep.

Blister me, thought Dido angrily, I'll never trust anybody ever again. I reckon this must be more of Queen Ginevra's doing; wonder how she knew that Mr Mully was so scared of snakes? Poor thing, he must feel terrible bad.

She half wished she could get near him to comfort him; but felt impatient with his cowardice too. He mighta managed to give us some hint; so we could have raised the alarm. But then, in fairness, she thought: I've never had a snake wrapped round my midriff, I mightn't feel so devil-may-care if I had.

After an hour's hard riding the party reached a region of steeper hillsides and small deep valleys. By now dawn was beginning to pale the sky and a faint glow showed where the sun would rise, over on the right. Dido was confirmed in her guess that they were travelling towards New c.u.mbria. By a different route, evidently, not through the Pa.s.s of Nimue; and indeed, approaching a high crag, where cascading lava from Mount Pampoyle had hardened into a kind of rock ladder, they dismounted and climbed up to an entrance in the cliff face above them. The three captives were prodded forward at dagger-point, and some of their guards stood below as they climbed, pointing crossbows at them.

'Don't try to jump,' Dido's guard warned her, 'or you'll come to ground spitted like a pigeon.'

He wore a hood, but she thought she recognised his voice.

Having entered the cave, their captors lit candles in gla.s.s lanterns and urged the prisoners forward at a rapid walk. At this point Mr Multiple managed to get near the two girls.

'I'm sorry, Your Highness, I'm sorry,' he muttered miserably. Dido saw that tears were running down his cheeks; he looked utterly wretched. 'Oh, I could kill myself,' he cried. 'But what good would that do?'