The Flight of the Griffin (25 page)

The boat lurched dangerously underneath them and one of his guards stumbled. Glancing across he smiled to see the fighter was still aboard, then frowned as he saw only one of his demon guards still lived. He let go his magical grip of the boat and it dropped, falling down through the trees as gravity reclaimed its hold, crashing through the branches, battering itself to pieces in its rush to meet the forest floor. Belial watched the branches flash past and the boat disintegrate around him knowing that he and his fellow demons would survive such a fall and that the human fighter would not.

The boat hit the ground with an ear-splitting crash and a great cloud of dust and dirt filled the air. A few moments later Belial emerged from the wreckage, brushing bits of wood, rope and sail away and surveyed the scene; no human could possibly have survived that, the fighter was dead.

‘To me!’ he called and the three remaining demons pulled themselves from the mangled pile that had once been a boat and followed him into the forest, unseen amongst the confusion.

‘Quint!’ screamed Mahra as she stood on a platform glancing around.

‘He’s over there,’ said Loras pointing. ‘I saw him going down with the boat and managed to get a vine to him. Look he’s on that branch, go and see if he’s all right.’ Mahra threw herself forward and the owl silently glided over to Quint’s unmoving form.

He was still breathing, but had obviously used the last of his strength to get to the branch. Two of the Hidden were peering out of a stairway so Mahra called them over and they helped drag him to a less precarious spot. She checked him over for injuries and seeing no human blood, only the black blood of the demons, told the Hidden to leave him.

‘I think this hero has earned a sleep,’ she said, smoothing the hair away from Quint’s dirty sweat-streaked face.

It was much later when Quint finally awoke and was brought over to a crackling fire; the light was flickering on the faces of his two friends as they sat talking to King Cahlrik.

‘Quint,’ said the king, standing up to welcome his guest. ‘My people have told me of your fight on the great boat. You are truly a mighty warrior. If the three of you hadn’t done what you did, who knows what would be left of our city, you will be long remembered by the Hidden.’ Cahlrik went on to explain what had happened to Tarent and Pardigan and how he had led them to the tree.

‘They’re in a boat right now on their way to Freya,’ said Mahra. ‘I flew out to speak to them earlier, they have the skull.’ She glanced over at Loras who was awake but didn’t look like he would be for long. After fighting a demon all afternoon he was now fighting sleep and this was a battle he was losing fast. 

Quint raised an eyebrow. ‘They left on their own, why didn’t they come back to find us?’

‘The book,’ said Mahra, and told him what it had said. When she’d finished, Quint still appeared confused.

‘We still have to go back for the
Griffin
, how are we going to fly out of here? I know Loras is getting good but that’s a pretty tall order even for him.’ He glanced over at his sleepy friend.

‘I’ll think of something,’ mumbled Loras. ‘I just wish I had my books with me.’

‘Come, sleep,’ said Cahlrik with a toothy smile. ‘My people will watch for the night-walkers tonight, you’ll do no flying until you get some of your energy back.’

Loras curled up into a ball by the fire, followed not long after by Quint and Mahra.

Cahlrik studied the three heroes. Only children, he thought with a shake of his head,
big
children, but still just children. He looked out at the devastated city, mostly concealed by darkness amid the many flickering lights and fires. So many fallen trees that had been homes to his people for countless generations and several lives lost, less than he had feared but still too many. He sighed and reflected that a lot had changed in such a short time. With that thought he put blankets over the three sleeping figures and headed back into the tree to find his own bed and hopefully some sort of rest.

The next morning they said their good-byes to the Hidden. It was a tearful affair; none of the Hidden came and blamed them in any way for bringing such slaughter and mayhem to their city. The crew of the
Griffin
received nothing but thanks and gratitude for the part they had played in the battle against the demons and their ship.

The king pinned a golden acorn onto each of their cloaks, passing over two more for Pardigan and Tarent.

‘You have started the process of reconciliation between the Hidden and the outside world and you’ve shown us there are indeed good people in the lands of man. We must now do our best to dismiss the evil stories and rejoin the rest of the world. May the Source guide your Quest and bless it with success. These golden acorns are the highest forms of honour and recognition that we can bestow upon anyone, human or Hidden, they are worn by few humans.’

They thanked him as they accepted the brooches.

‘I’m glad we could help to reunite our peoples but I’m so sorry it had to be this way.’ Quint raised his voice so as many could hear as possible. ‘Such terrible destruction, you Hidden are a very special people when you’re able to see the good amid such Chaos, and extremely special to have endured seclusion for so long. With people like you aiding the force of Order, I know we cannot fail.’ The Hidden cheered and Quint placed his hand onto the king’s shoulder then turned and Groober led them away from the large gathering of cheering Hidden and on to the path for Minster Harbour.

****

Belial and his three demon soldiers stormed onto the
Esmerelda,
the gangplank bouncing and swaying under their weight.

‘Where are the Hawk and his fat friend?’ hissed Belial to the two sailors in the unfortunate position of guards to the main deck of the ship.

‘Mister Hawk and Merchant Bask are in the captain’s cabin, my Lord. May I send them word that you’re here?’ The guard was trembling and perspiring heavily as he desperately tried to focus on the relatively human features of Belial, rather than the visitations of horror that accompanied him. Belial treated him to an oily smile.

‘Why that would be just…’ he brought his face close to the sailor’s.
‘…perfect!’
  The sailor retreated towards the hatchway as fast as he was able. His companion, now alone, came under the scrutiny of the demon king. Belial was tired of humans after the somewhat humiliating defeat in the city of the Hidden; he’d walked all night and was in no mood to be nice. The sailor stared out at the Jungle City trying not to make eye contact with any of the demons. Feeling Belial’s gaze he trembled and began to panic, unsure what to do. The clink clink clink of his armour rattling, the loudest sound on the boat.

‘Boo!’
shouted Belial pushing out at the hapless man, sending him flying up in the air and over the side of the ship where he landed in a heap on the harbour path. Several other sailors suddenly found other things they should be doing on a different part of the boat, and in only a few beats of a demon heart, the deck was clear of humans. Belial walked over and wiggled the ship’s wheel from side to side then slapped the compass cracking the casing.
‘Hawk,
’ he bellowed. A sound of steady steps came from the hatchway and Matheus Hawk’s head and shoulders appeared. Matheus glanced at the demons then around at the deserted deck before cautiously stepping out.

‘And where pray tell, is our fat friend?’ growled Belial.

‘He is coming, do not fret, he moves a little slower than most men below decks. It gets somewhat cramped down there and he finds it hard to negotiate the ladder.’ The Hawk smiled. ‘And to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?’

‘I’m tired of your human bungling and decided to take control of this fiasco you call a manhunt.’ Belial spat on the deck and a fleck attached itself to Matheus’s boot.’  Five children have bested you and I mean to stop them once and for all. They come now to this town and it is here that we will finish this charade.’ He walked to the side of the boat and studied the variety of vessels around him. ‘Somewhere in this harbour they have a boat and we have to stop it leaving. I shall be watching and giving my…’ he came closer to Matheus. ‘…advice.’ A fetid breath of pure Evil accompanied the softly spoken word causing Matheus to sway a little but he managed to remain on his feet.

‘I’m sure that will be most constructive.’ Matheus coughed, still wavering slightly as he fought the urge to vomit.

Belial slapped the back of his hand across the Hawk’s face, sending him spinning across the deck. Matheus glared up at Belial, his eyes narrowing. Saying nothing, he waited to see what the demon king would do next.

But then Bartholomew Bask's wheezing form finally arriving from the cabins below broke the moment. He stopped and mopped his brow before noticing the scene in front of him. His eyes darted from Matheus Hawk lying prone on the deck with blood dripping from his mouth, to the hunched figure of Belial breathing heavily, watched over by three hooded demons. The thought of returning down the stairway briefly occurred to him, and his head did turn back towards the hatch, but he knew it wasn’t really an option.

‘Mr Bask how nice of you to join us.’ Belial strode over and grabbed Bartholomew’s cheek in a painful pinch, pulling the frightened merchant towards him.

‘How can we be of service to you?’ squeaked Bartholomew, standing up on tiptoes. Belial smiled and brought his lips close to Bartholomew’s ear.

‘Some children will be arriving here soon, they will get on one of these boats and together we will stop them,’ he hissed. ‘Get this boat ready to move the moment we sight them, they have something I need and then I want them dead.’ He twisted Bartholomew’s cheek even tighter then leaned closer and bit his ear.

Bartholomew let out a squeal.
‘Eeeeek!
They have plenty of mine as well,’ he danced up on his toes, sobbing. ‘We’re here for the same reason so why are you treating me like this?’ His high-pitched voice carried over the silent ship.

Belial pondered the question. ‘I think I’ve decided that I don’t like humans very much, now get this boat ready, and come closer to the harbour mouth, I want to be able to see every boat that leaves.’ He pushed Bartholomew away. Walking to the side rail, the demon king stood gazing out over the harbour without saying another word.

Matheus picked himself up, dusted himself down and cast an icy glare towards Belial. Bartholomew grabbed his arm but Matheus shook it off.

‘What are we going to do?’ hissed Bartholomew. His cheek and neck were both red, already showing signs of bruising. A single drop of blood hung from his ear.

‘We shall stop those brats and deal with this…’ Matheus waved a hand towards Belial’s back, ‘…later.’

‘Bartholomew’s mouth dropped open. ‘Later, later, what do you mean later? That…that thing, laid his hands upon me, beat you down and has threatened our lives. What do you mean deal with it later?’ he hissed trying hard to keep his voice low while casting an eye towards the three silent figures.

‘Just do what he says and ask the captain to move the ship. I don’t think we’ll have any more outbursts from our friend Mr Belial for a while. He was simply flexing his muscles, letting us know who’s boss, that’s all.’

Bartholomew stared at Matheus Hawk with something approaching pleading in his eyes. ‘For the love of the Source, man, if you can do something…anything, then just do it. I don’t think the boss likes us and I’m very sure I don’t like him.’

‘Tell the captain to move us, Mr Bask, everything will happen in its own good time; it always does.’

Bartholomew gave an exasperated sigh and headed for the hatchway, muttering to himself.

****

Chapter 17

The Flight Of The
Griffin

Mahra flew silently over the gateway to Minster town, the moon casting her dancing shadow across the silvery pathway. She circled several times before returning to where Loras and Quint were hiding with the others amongst the trees, the snowy owl blurring into the shape of the girl.

‘There’s nobody in sight. The light is on in the Custom’s house again but I can’t see him in his bed. Maybe we should wait a while?’

‘No, let’s just do it,’ said Quint, ‘but very quietly, let's try not to wake anybody, all right?’ With a nod to Groober, four of the Hidden ran out dragging a hastily constructed ladder. They propped it up against the gate, braced the bottom and Loras ran up and gently dropped over to look back at Quint through the gate. Quint was about to move when he felt Groober tug on his cloak.

‘What will you say when you hear evil stories of the Hidden? Will you be our friends when you return to the heart of ignorance?’ Quint glanced up as Loras hissed at him, urging him to come quickly, then turned back and smiled down at the Groober.

‘We shall tell the world to listen with their hearts when they meet you, and that the stories are all untrue.’ 

Groober tried hard to smile. ‘Looks can be deceiving, can’t they, the same as nasty stories. The Hidden have learned never to judge another by his looks. You’re all so…ugly…yet we bid you welcome … and you showed us you were as honest and true as any Hidden, I’m glad that we did, I hope the world of man will welcome us.’ With a wave he disappeared back into the shadows leaving Quint a little bemused. They thought
we
were ugly!