Chronicles of the Red King #3: Leopards' Gold (17 page)

Cafal laid Gunfrid beside the girls and strode back to the door.

“Stay with us, Cafal,” said Zeba. “We’ll feel safer with you.”

“You must. Our mother said so,” Guanhamara insisted.

“Let him go, Guan,” Petrello said quietly.

Cafal turned his head and gave Petrello a grateful smile. And then he was gone. Petrello ran down the steps after him. Before bolting the heavy door, he looked outside. Zobayda’s garden was bathed in a soft, golden light, its source the pale-haired leopard that moved silently about the flower-filled courtyard.

High in Zobayda’s tower, a candle still burned. Looking up, Petrello saw his aunt framed in the window. She raised a hand to him, and he waved back.

We’re safe tonight
, Petrello thought, as he hurried up to the royal apartments,
and maybe tomorrow. But what will happen after that?
At the back of his mind lay a question he could hardly bear to consider.
Will Mother and Father ever return?

T
he six children slept together on the wide royal bed, limbs tangled, toes touching chins. A mattress of soft foamy feathers cradled their bodies, and a thick woolen quilt kept them cozy.

This must be how a bird feels, when it is newly hatched
, thought Petrello. He didn’t want to wake up, he was so warm, so very comfortable. He felt he could have stayed buried in those soft, embracing feathers forever.

Outside, a bird began to sing. A soft gray light crept across the painted walls, but it was hardly dawn. Why had he woken up? Ah, there it was. One of the girls was crying. It was only a small mouselike sniffle, but Petrello couldn’t get back to sleep.

He pulled himself out of his downy cocoon and sat up. The three girls lay at the other end of the bed. Zeba and his sister still had their eyes closed. They appeared to be fast asleep. But Elin had a hand over her eyes, and her shoulders were shaking.

“Elin!” Petrello whispered. “Elin, what’s wrong?”

He realized what a foolish thing it was to say, because so many things were wrong.

Without replying to Petrello, Elin rolled out of bed and ran to the window. She stood there, staring out at the forest, her tears falling freely, her clasped hands twisting and turning.

Petrello reluctantly left the bed and went to Elin’s side. “I know they say your father is always eager for a fight,” he said, putting a tentative arm around the girl’s shoulder, “but I’m sure he’s safe with the king. He’ll come back.”

Elin nodded. But she still wept.

“Our brave Knight Protectors will return and give the chancellor’s men such a beating, they’ll leave the castle and we’ll all be safe again.” Petrello even managed to convince himself. He felt so much better now.

But Elin wasn’t comforted. Her tears fell faster, and she took loud gasping gulps of air, her shoulders rising and falling with each gasp. She suddenly turned her tearstained face to him and sobbed, “But what about Amadis? He went alone, and Isgofan came back without him. Where were the wolves when he fell, Petrello? Where were the eagles and owls, the deer, the wildcats, and the serpents that live in the trees? Where were they all? They should have been protecting him.”

Elin’s sudden confession came as such a surprise, for a moment Petrello couldn’t reply. He should have guessed that she loved Amadis. He just hadn’t noticed. And then the answer came to him, and as he spoke, he knew it must be true. “They were there, Elin, all the creatures of the air and the forest. And they’re taking care of Amadis right now.”

“Do you really think so?” Elin squeezed out one more tear and smiled.

“I’m sure of it.”

They were about to creep back and get some more sleep when the door opened and a head of tousled brown hair appeared. It screamed.

All the children woke up. Yawning, groaning, grumbling, and mumbling, they lifted their heads and stared at the stranger standing in the doorway. And then they realized that she wasn’t a stranger at all. They had just forgotten that Mair, their mother’s attendant, slept in the royal apartments.

“Heaven preserve us!” Mair walked into the room, shaking her head at the children peeping out from the royal quilt. “Where’s the queen?”

Petrello hastily explained that Amadis was missing and the queen had gone to find him.

“She’s a bold one, your mother,” said Mair. “What possessed her?”

“The chancellor’s men wouldn’t go,” said Guanhamara. “And mother said we were to stay here together, because …” She looked at Petrello.

“She doesn’t think we are safe,” finished Petrello.

“Mercy!” Mair sank onto a padded stool. “It’s like Melyntha all over again.”

Petrello knew that Mair had run away from Castle Melyntha, after the queen escaped. She had followed his mother through the forest for many days before she eventually found her, and vowed never to leave her side again. He pointed out that they didn’t have to escape from their own castle.

Mair looked at him and rolled her eyes. “We’ll see.” Her lips formed a tight, little line. “If the chancellor takes over, he won’t want a batch of royal children hanging about, will he?”

Guanhamara, wide-awake now, leaped off the bed. “Don’t be silly,” she cried. “You’re such a pessimist, Mair. The king will return very soon with the crystal, and everything will be all right again.”

The desperation in his sister’s voice made Petrello think she didn’t believe her own words. What had her dream shown her?

“The king might be too late,” Mair said darkly. And she left a room of silent, anxious children.

“That woman finds optimism impossible,” Guanhamara said at last. “We are safe here.” She smiled around at everyone. “Don’t forget the leopards.”

After another bleak silence, Gunfrid said hopefully, “WE are not royal children.”

“They are our friends,” said Zeba, giving her brother a severe look. “Where would we be without them? You can’t even walk.”

Gunfrid pouted and rubbed his legs.

A few moments later, Mair returned with a jug of water, one cup, and a plate of small honey cakes. She seemed a little more cheerful. “Share nicely,” she said. “Later, I’ll go to the kitchens and see what I can get for you.”

They thanked her, and Guanhamara shared out the honey cakes, taking a handful to Gunfrid.

If only someone could tell them what was going on. Petrello went to the window. He could see Zobayda in the tower opposite, and decided to pay her a visit. Guanhamara joined him at the window and waved to her aunt.

“I’ll go and see her,” said Petrello.

Guanhamara clutched his arm. “Suppose they catch you?”

“They won’t. Star will protect me.”

“No,” said his sister. “Look!”

Petrello looked down into Zobayda’s garden. He was just in time to see Star leaving through the arch. His brothers must have called him, or he would never have left his post.

“I’m going anyway,” said Petrello. “I want to see our aunt.”

Guanhamara shook her head. “Trello, no, no, no!”

“Is it because of what you saw — in your dreams?” Petrello searched his sister’s face.

“I can’t make sense of it, but I think our father’s trapped somewhere.” She frowned and, looking over her shoulder, whispered, “And so are the knights.”

The other children were busy with the honey cakes, breaking the last ones into twos and threes. Petrello leaned close to his sister and asked softly, “What did you see?”

“I saw a lake as smooth as glass, and in the center, a white cloud hanging there, hiding everything beneath it and … and …” She continued in a whisper, “I think our father was beneath it, no, not think, I’m sure. In fact, I know that the king and his knights are trapped under that cloud. Don’t ask me how I know. It was more than a dream, Trello. It was a knowledge … given to me.”

“I see.” Petrello paused, uncertain whether to ask his next question. “And did you know that your best friend loves Amadis?”

Guanhamara grinned and gave him a funny, sideways look. “Of course I know, and so does he.”

“Oh.”
Foolish
Petrello, you know so little,
he told himself.

The other children had noticed the two whispering by the window. Elin and Tolly came over to them.

“Why are you whispering?” said Tolly.

“We were wondering what to do next,” said Guanhamara.

“Look!” cried Tolly. “Our aunt has visitors.”

Looking down, Petrello saw two Gray Men at Aunt Zobayda’s door.
Where were the guards?
he wondered. There was a brass knocker on the door, in the shape of a camel. One of the men lifted the camel and rapped loudly.

Don’t open the door!
Petrello silently warned his aunt.

Tolly banged on the window. “Aunt, don’t open the door!” he shouted.

But Zobayda couldn’t hear. Perhaps she thought her nephews wanted her. A moment later, she had pulled back the bolts and opened the door. The children watched in horror as one of the men grabbed Zobayda’s right hand and dragged her out.

“What can we do? What can we do?” wailed Tolly.

Petrello was about to run and help his aunt, when his sister gripped his arm and said, “No, Trello. They’ll catch you, too. Something’s happening.”

Before the second man could grab Zobayda’s left hand, she had lifted it up and brought it down on the first man’s fingers. There was a bright flash, a scream of pain, and the man fell to the ground.

“The ring,” breathed Petrello.

The man still standing was too shocked to move, but then he seemed to recover, and tried to snatch Zobayda’s arm. She whirled in a circle, too fast for him to catch her, and before he could step back, she had touched him with her ring. He yelled in agony and staggered out of the garden, clutching his chest.

Zobayda looked up at the watching children and smiled.

The children cheered wildly. Petrello unlatched the window and flung it open, calling, “Brave Aunt Zobayda, come and see us!”

“I was just about to,” Zobayda called back, “when I was so rudely interrupted.”

Petrello ran down to draw back the bolts. When he opened the door, his aunt walked in, looking as cheerful and unruffled as if nothing in the least unusual had happened.

“It was the jinni’s ring, wasn’t it?” said Petrello, peering around her at the man on the ground.

“Of course.” His aunt lifted her left hand and turned it this way and that. “Look at him sparkling. He’s always like that when he’s had a fight.” She looked over her shoulder. “Don’t worry about the Gray Man. He’s not dead. But he’ll be harmless for a while.”

Petrello peered at the jinni’s tiny face. “I’m glad you had him with you, Aunt. The leopard has gone. I don’t know why.”

“He must have had a very good reason.” Aunt Zobayda began to climb the steps. “And your guard is missing. I fear for him.”

“Me too.” Petrello bolted the door and followed his aunt. “Our mother has gone to look for Amadis. His horse came back alone, and the chancellor’s men won’t go and find him. Mother said we must all stay together, for the chancellor isn’t our friend.”

“I know. I know.”

“How do you know, Aunt?”

“I have windows, I have eyes and ears, and I have a jinni’s intuition.”

“Oh.” Petrello was a little mystified, but much impressed.

When Zobayda entered the royal bedchamber, she was immediately surrounded by chattering children, all asking questions at once.

“Yes, yes. It was my ring,” she answered, sinking onto the bed. “When the king and I were young, it saved us many a time.”

They settled beside her on the big bed, and Guanhamara flung her arms around her aunt, begging her to stay with them.

“Of course I’ll stay, but not in this room,” said Zobayda. “It seems you have all made yourselves very much at home here. I’ll go and find Mair.”

They followed the king’s sister out of the bedchamber and down a passage with several doors opening off it. First, Zobayda looked into Mair’s tiny room. The queen’s attendant had fallen asleep again on her narrow wooden bed.

“We won’t wake her,” Zobayda whispered.

There were three more rooms. One for the queen’s clothes, her shoes, and her jewels; another for the king’s robes; and a third with long windows on both sides. Here the king liked to read at night. There were shelves of precious books, chests and boxes, a table covered in maps and papers, several tall candelabra, two high stools, and a long, velvet-covered couch.

“This is where I shall sleep,” Zobayda declared, settling herself among the cushions on the couch.

“Are we prisoners?” Tolly asked.

“You could say that,” his aunt replied. “But not for long, I’m sure.”

A sudden loud banging on the door sent Petrello leaping down the steps again. “Who is it?” he called.

“Don’t keep me waiting, boy. Open up.”

It was Llyr’s voice, Petrello was sure of it, and yet he hesitated.

Behind him, Tolly said, “I’m here, Trello! And I have my sword.”

Petrello turned to see his brother descending the stairway, his sword at the ready.

“I remembered that Mother had left it here,” said Tolly, running down to stand beside his brother.

There was another loud bang, and the same voice asked, “Do I have to use a spell to break down this door?”

Petrello drew back the bolts, but before he could open the door, a man burst through it.

“Merciful moons, Tolomeo!” gasped Llyr. “Sheath your sword before you do some mischief. I’m your friend.”

A friend he might have been, but he didn’t look like the wizard they knew. A steel helmet covered his fine, fair hair, and at least twenty sharp knives hung from his belt. He was carrying two large leather bags.

“Venison pies!” Llyr announced, waving one of the bags. “Are you all here?”

“Vyborn wouldn’t come, nor would Cafal,” said Petrello.

Llyr nodded. “And Olga is in my care. What about your aunt?”

“She’s here,” said Petrello.

“Take me to her.”

They led Llyr up to the king’s reading room. When he appeared at the door, the other children backed to the window, their eyes on the gleaming knives at his waist. But Zobayda greeted the wizard with a wide smile and a cry of welcome.

“Provisions,” said Llyr, putting the bags on the floor.