The Stolen Lake Part 19

'None at all.' Elen gave him a stony look. 'I hate a coward,' she said haughtily.

Dido had more sympathy towards the wretched lad. She remembered how she herself felt about spiders.

'Never mind, Mr Mully,' she said. 'Done's done. Best you can do now, if there's ever a chance, is get away and give the alarm which way we've gone.'

However it seemed he was not to be given the chance. After they had walked what seemed three or four miles, but was probably less, along dark narrow ascending galleries, they came to a much larger cavern, where the high regular walls showed the scarred signs of workings. Probably silver-mines, Dido guessed; there were pickaxes and sections of machinery lying here and there. An underground river crossed their path and had to be crossed by a series of square stepping-stones which had evidently been set there for the purpose.

Not far from this point the river apparently plunged over a cliff into a gorge; they could hear the roar of a waterfall and see spray rising. Dido's hooded guard nodded towards Mr Multiple and indicated the falls.

Toss him over there. He is no further use to us. His body will never be found in here.

'No! You can't do that!' exclaimed Dido in horror.

Mr Multiple yelled and struggled unavailingly as four of the hooded captors dragged him towards the gorge while the rest of the party proceeded swiftly on their way. Dido heard the unfortunate mids.h.i.+pman's voice raised in a final shriek of despair; and soon afterwards his a.s.sa.s.sins rejoined the other group, which had reached the terminal point of a strange little conveyance, evidently used for transporting ore through the galleries of the mine. It was a series of open cars, linked together, which ran along above a single track, or rather groove, in the rock floor; this groove emitted steam, which somehow propelled the cars by turning a rotor which engaged with the wheels. Cap'n Hughes would go crazy over it, Dido thought glumly, as she and Elen were thrust into a car with two of their captors (each car held no more than four persons, and that was a tight squeeze); a lever was pulled to start the train, which moved off slowly but by degrees built up a terrifying speed so that they hurtled hissing through the darkness, rocking and swaying from side to side.

'Keep your head down,' Dido's guard curtly warned her, 'or you're liable to get your brains dashed out.'

She followed this advice and huddled on the floor of the car, a prey to the most dismal thoughts. Mr Multiple's dreadful fate had upset her horribly; he was a decent, kind-hearted boy, she thought, not a mite of harm in him, not his fault he didn't like snakes; and they tossed him over the cliff without giving two thoughts to the matter, as if he'd been an apple core!

It was stiflingly hot in this part of the mountain. The air, such as there was, smelt very bad, of hot metal, aged rock, and sulphureous steam; what with that, and the train's see-saw, oscillating motion, Dido began, after an hour or so, to feel very sick indeed. Her head throbbed, and she had to keep swallowing; but she had nothing to swallow with; her mouth felt as dry as stale bread. The guards' lanterns had long ago blown out, in the wind of their progress, and she could not even see Elen, but groped about and found her hand. She feared that the princess only just rescued from that cave -must feel even worse; and indeed Elen's hand seemed alarmingly cold and limp, returning only the faintest pressure in response to Dido's.

After an immense interval Dido thought she might have slipped into a kind of faint, the time slid past in feverish fits and starts as it does during illness they came out into larger, lighter galleries, past gleaming piles of silver ore and uncut gemstones awaiting carriage to the outer world. At last the train began to slow down, and finally drew to a stop. The lanterns were lit again.

Dido's guard had pushed back his hood during the journey, and she saw that he was the Grand Inquisitor, Dafydd Gomez. The person holding Elen was likewise revealed as the Vicar General, Fluellen. Might have guessed those old ravens would get on it somehow, Dido thought dejectedly, letting herself be pushed out of the car on to a rock platform.

The hiss of the train died away and instead Dido heard another familiar voice.

'So you have got them! Just as well one part of the business has gone right.'

Another masked cloaked figure, unmistakable none the less, by its smallness, as Lady Ettarde, hobbled along the platform. She took off her mask to glower at the two exhausted girls. She was accompanied by old Mrs Morgan.

'Why, what has gone wrong?' demanded Fluellen.

Those fools have let Hughes and my nephew escape from the Wen Pendragon.'

'Holy Sul! I didn't think it could have been done. Where are they now?'

She shrugged.

'Who knows? Gone into the mountains. Very likely the Aurocs will get them. But on account of that, Her Mercy needs new hostages, as a lever against anything Mabon may try. And she is becoming very impatient. Come along, you!' she said to Dido and Elen.

The girls were jerked and jostled to the foot of a steep winding stair, and obliged to climb it. In their dazed and fainting state they made very slow progress; Mrs Morgan, behind them, kept up a continual angry mutter: 'Git along, git along, then, me little runaway darlings ' on the word darlings she poked Dido with what felt like a bodkin 'Her Mercy'll be happy to see you again, that's one thing certain.'

They arrived at the top of the long climb with knees that felt like wool.

Now, to Dido's utter amazement, she recognised her surroundings; the stair had brought them into one of the ante-chambers of Bath Palace. Who'd a thought we had come so far? she thought. So the queen has her own private way into the silver-mines. Very handy for her any time she wants a new pair of earrings.

Lady Ettarde halted her prisoners at the foot of the grand staircase.

'Now listen to me, you two!' she hissed. Despite her small stature she looked extremely formidable.

'First, don't think you will be so lucky as to escape a second time! My brother himself will guard you this time. Clever as you may think you are, once you are in the city of Sul, he and his catamountain will be more than a match for you.'

Neither of the girls made any reply. They were still getting their breath after the punis.h.i.+ng climb.

'Idiot!' snapped Lady Ettarde to the Grand Inquisitor. 'Why did you not take some rumirumi flowers with you? Her Grace will not be best pleased to see them so fatigued.'

Dido had a recollection of Mrs Morgan saying, 'She don't like them if they're droopy.'

When Lady Ettarde turned to continue on up the grand stair, Dido whispered to Elen, 'Droop as much as you can. Pretend to feel even worse than you do!'

They were led along the curving gallery towards the throne room. But halfway along the gallery Lady Ettarde halted them once more, ostensibly to let them get their breath, in reality to whisper menacingly, 'Don't tell the queen that Rex Atahallpa is back.'

'Who?'

'Atahallpa. Artaius. Don't tell her.'

'Why not?' said Dido sourly.

'Because if she knows that he is back, and has not made haste to join her, she will be so angry that she will probably have your tongues cut out on the spot.'

'But why should you care?' said Dido. Partly she was playing for time; anything to keep the old witch talking; but also she wondered why it mattered to Lady Ettarde.

'Never you mind!' rasped the Mistress of the Robes, and hobbled on again.

As Dido followed, the answer came to her. Of course she don't want Mr Holystone to turn up here and settle down as Queen Ginevra's ever-loving husband. Because when he does, it's crowns to cake-crumbs as her turn'll be over; the queen won't pay heed to her any more. Likely she's sorry he ever came back, and wishes him at Jericho.

Now they were led into the queen's presence.

Ginevra hardly seemed to have moved since Dido saw her last. She still reclined, fatly, in her loose white gown, among cobwebby grey curtains. But she looked older, Dido thought; her face was drawn and haggard, there was no coyness or sentimentality about it today. Her eyes were strangely dull; except that every now and then, even though she was not wearing her gla.s.ses, they suddenly, for a moment, would become purely reflectors and mirror the scene in front of her. This, when it happened, was horribly disconcerting, as if she had stopped being a real person at all, and was just a piece of machinery, mechanically carrying out her own wishes.

'Here are the two girls, Your Mercy,' said Lady Ettarde. 'Mabon's daughter and the other one.'

Ginevra did not show any particular triumph or pleasure. Her head turned slowly, surveying the girls; her eyes played their odd trick, s.h.i.+ning, turning gla.s.sy; then, after a moment, they became eyes again, and she said, 'Has Mabon returned my lake?'

Lady Ettarde looked inquiringly at the Grand Inquisitor, who had followed them. He said, 'Your Mercy, he has begun sending it back. It is being flown over the mountains in leather water-skins, borne by small air-balloons. The thongs are waxed, so that they melt and discharge their contents into the lake-basin.' He had made this report in a dispa.s.sionate, formal manner, but he concluded with some enthusiasm, 'And I must say, it was a capital notion of King Mabon's! Highly ingenious! He must have some excellent designers. As I have often said to Your Mercy, if he were only our ally -'

'Quiet, fool! How long will it take? How soon will the lake be filled again?'

'At the rate the water-skins are discharging, I would guess, about thirty-six hours, Ma'am.'

Now Elen spoke up.

'How dare you take us prisoner, when my father has honourably fulfilled his undertaking to return the lake?'

Her voice was brave, but she flinched a little when the queen turned those gla.s.sy eyes on her.

Ginevra did not address her, however, but said to Lady Ettarde, 'When is the new moon?'

'In three days, Your Mercy.'

Ignoring a sick feeling in her inside, Dido bluntly addressed the queen.

'If you were thinking of having us tossed in the lake, Your Royalty, you might as well know that your Rex Quondam is back; so there ain't no need!'

She heard a sort of growl from Lady Ettarde, behind her, and thought she saw something black and furry detach itself from that lady's full skirts and scurry in her direction.

Now the queen's s.h.i.+ning, sightless eyes were staring at her. To avoid their unnerving stare, she looked down at the floor. Yes, it was a spider the size of a hairy grapefruit; it was on the point of climbing up her leg.

On a step of the dais, lying disregarded where Gine-vra had dropped it, was the chunk of raw sapphire that Bran had given the queen. Dido s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and used it to deal the spider a satisfactory, crunching thwack. The spider rolled over, its legs thras.h.i.+ng, then folding in death.

Don't I just wish Bran was here, Dido thought, clutching the stone. But even the memory of him was comforting.

Queen Ginevra said, 'The High King is back? Back where?'

'He was up at Lake Arianrod,' Dido said. 'Now he's in Lyonesse.'

'Is this true?'

'Oh yes, it's true,' said Elen wearily. 'My father has sworn fealty to him.'

The queen turned her mirror-eyes on Lady Ettarde.

'Why was I not told?'

'Ma'am, how do we know whether the girls are speaking truth?' 'It may be only a rumour,' Lady Ettarde and the Grand Inquisitor said together.

Ignoring them, Ginevra clapped her hands.

'Have the coronation regalia brought out, so that I may inspect it! Send my chief herald to me. Where is my sooth-sayer? Fetch him here!'

'Your Mercy, n.o.body knows where he is - Lady Ettarde was red-faced, fl.u.s.tered and gasping.

'Have those two girls sent up, under double escort, to the city of Sul,' the queen went on. 'Give this message to the Guardian.' She scribbled on the tablets a scribe brought her. 'Ettarde! I shall need ten new gowns. And my lord will doubtless require a royal wardrobe and a coronation robe. Let tailors be sent for -'

'Of course, Your Mercy-' Lady Ettarde looked relieved at this evidence that her sphere of usefulness was not yet ended. 'What shall I -'

'Quiet! Leave me now. I must have rest and quiet. I must think. I must remember.'

She lay back on her cus.h.i.+ons. The girls were hustled away. Once they were out of sight, Lady Ettarde gave Dido a box on the ear that rattled her teeth together.

'That's for disobeying me, you little hussy!'

Their journey to the Temple of Sul was also taken by underground train through the silver-mines. Too bad the queen didn't tell us this way before, Dido thought; saved us a deal of travel, that would, and poor Plum wouldn't have been took by the Aurocs. But then, she reflected, I wouldn't have found the sword, and Elen wouldn't have been rescued. Though what's the good of that now?

Dido felt very low-spirited; the death of poor Mr Multiple had upset her dreadfully, the interview with Queen Ginerva had not cheered her at all, and besides that, it was now three-quarters through the day, and she felt hollow and lightheaded from lack of food and sleep.

The train they rode on this time, however, was far more comfortable, apparently the queen's private conveyance to the Temple of Sul. The cars had gla.s.s windows like small hackney coaches, and wool-stuffed cus.h.i.+ons. These pits were still being actively worked, and miners could sometimes be seen through the windows hacking at rock-faces or carrying the ore in baskets strapped to their backs. There were a great many women and children at work too. Elen was shocked to see this.

'Small children pulling those heavy trolleys along the rails? It is disgraceful!'

'Keeps them out o' the way of the Aurocs,' Dido pointed out.

'It should not be allowed. It is not so in Lyonesse.'

'It is in England.' Dido had never set foot in an English mine, but she knew that quite small children did work there.

'Well, when I see if I see Gwydion again, I shall tell him he should have it stopped.'

'Yes, you do that,' said Dido soothingly, and then both girls fell into a despondent silence.

One thing, though, thought Dido, her spirits picking up again, it's good to know that old Cap'n Hughes got himself out o' the pokey; I wouldn't a thought he had the gumption! I wonder who Lady Ettarde's nephew is, that she spoke of, and why he was in there? Could it be but no, the idea was too preposterous.

Lady Ettarde had accompanied them on this journey, along with a troop of the silent, grey-uniformed guards. But the Mistress of the Wardrobe was preoccupied, and sat in a separate car, busy making sketches of coronation robes. Dido and Elen travelled in a car with two guards, who sat facing them, but did not speak.

Towards the end of the journey the train evidently began to climb an exceedingly steep ascent; the guards had much ado to keep from sliding off their seat, and the girls were tipped against the back of theirs; the train laboured more and more slowly, wheezing, hissing and wailing. At last it ground to a stop.

'Hope we ain't going to slip backwards,' said Dido.

However it seemed they had reached their destination. The guards, who carried pikes, gestured that the girls were to alight, and they did so, finding themselves in a large cold cave, dimly lit by oil lamps hanging on the walls. They were led out under an imposing arched entrance, past piles of crushed rock, and then up a steep but well-paved road. As they climbed higher they could see, below and to the right, the familiar star-shaped basin of Lake Arianrod. But what a drop! It must be well over a thousand feet below.

The paved road zig-zagged to and fro over the mountainside and now, looking up, Dido could see high walls above them, built from huge ma.s.sive blocks of stone, each probably weighing more than four hundred tons. The walls were fortified with towers at regular intervals and circled the mountain, crossing gullies and ravines, perching on the edge of precipices.

'Not a place you'd get into if they didn't want you,' panted Dido to Elen, as the party turned to take breath on a hairpin curve. 'But I thought it was a temple? That place looks twice the size of Bath Regis.'

'It is a town,' said Elen. 'But n.o.body lives there now.'

'Be quiet, girls!' snapped Lady Ettarde. 'You are entering Sul's sacred city.'

Lady Ettarde was being borne upwards in a sedan chair. Lucky for the carriers that she's so short, Dido thought. They must need a half-a-dozen to tote the queen along when she comes up.

A great stone stairway led down into a dry moat, then up again to a huge gateway. They pa.s.sed through this, and on up a steep, silver-cobbled hill.

'Mystery me,' muttered Dido to herself. 'I never thought I'd see a whole empty town. Wonder what happened to all the folk?'

It was plain that the City of Sul had been uninhabited not for ten, or a hundred, but for many, many hundreds of years. Great forest trees had grown among the temples, palaces, baths and blocks of dwellings. Near the outer wall these were mere cobblestone hovels, but farther in the buildings were splendid, constructed from huge chunks of white granite, roofed with ma.s.ses of peaked gables, interwound with countless stone stairways. What a deal of years the place must have taken to build, thought Dido; it covers the whole blessed mountain-top. Looking back, as they toiled ever upwards, she could see three different mountain ranges in the distance, and great ma.s.ses of white cloud, tinged with sunset pink, floating far away, over what must be the Forest of Broceliande.

The whole city was completely silent.

They reached a sloping oblong s.p.a.ce, five hundred yards in length, evidently the main square of the city. At the upper end of this was a ma.s.sive building with no windows at all, and but one entrance, a plain square doorway, on the broad lintel of which was carved the same woman's head, with snakes for hair, that Dido had seen in Bath Regis. The guards bowed reverently before it, and Lady Ettarde clambered out of her sedan chair to make a stiff curtsey. Apparently this was the Temple of Sul.

The entrance was approached by a flight of steps. At the top of them old Caradog the Guardian stood waiting.

'Welcome,' he said simply, and to Elen, 'Those who were once lost are doubly welcome.'

Lady Ettarde hobbled up the steps and kissed him. Seeing them together, both short, long-nosed, narrow-lipped, with deep-set eyes, Dido realised they must be brother and sister. What a clunch I am, she thought; they're as like as two peas in a pod. Why didn't I notice before?

In fact Caradog was saying, 'Will you stay the night, sister?'