The Goblin's Gift (6 page)

‘I know that,' she snapped. ‘I've known him all my life, remember?' She drew in another breath but paused for a moment, considering. When she spoke again her voice was softer. ‘It's just – it's not him I'm worried about.'

‘Skelmerdale?'

‘Skelmerdale.'

Joseph had never seen the new governor before. But Tabitha was right. Whatever Newton wanted, it would be up to Skelmerdale to decide what was done about the merfolk. He was in charge, after all.

Still, he was sure there was something else too. Tabitha was so tense. She'd been acting oddly ever since they left the island.

‘Tabs? What you said about me being too, um, weak to get back …' Tabitha's body went rigid, and he instantly regretted bringing it up. ‘I mean … Never mind.'

Tabitha turned to look at him. There was confusion in her big grey eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again.

‘Look, I'm, er … I'm sorry,' she said eventually.

Joseph was so surprised he didn't know what to say. Tabitha looked away quickly, and he felt his face grow hot.

‘Well, it's not …' he said. ‘I mean, I'm glad you're here.'

‘Glad?'

‘Of course. Imagine if I was on my own … I've got a cutlass now, but I don't exactly know how to use it. Not like you with your knives.'

A ghost of a smile hovered on Tabitha's lips. ‘I've seen you practising. You're just lucky that old wooden figurehead outside Bootles' doesn't fight back.'

Joseph grinned. ‘Hey! You need me too.'

‘Well, someone's got to scrub the dishes clean.' She was definitely smiling now. ‘And the company's nice, I s'pose.' In an instant she was frowning again, and Joseph felt suddenly awkward. ‘I really am sorry. Sometimes I … Well … It's just—'

There was a rattle of a doorknob, and the door opposite swung open. A portly, pale-skinned elf stepped into the hallway, dressed in the purple and gold livery of the Cockatrice Trading Company. The governor's company.

‘His honour will see you now,' he said.

Tabitha rose hurriedly and entered the room, with
Joseph following. It felt like she was as thankful for the interruption as he was.

They came through into the library. At least, it
had
been the library. Old Governor Wyrmwood's bookcases had been cleared out to make space for an enormous table, with a map of the Middle Islands spread out on it and model ships sitting on top. The glass display case containing the ancient Sword of Corin seemed to be the only thing that remained the same.

Blackcoats were stationed around the room, and a cluster of officers stood behind the table, talking earnestly and pointing at things. Joseph saw that Cyrus Derringer, commander of the Dockside Militia, was watching them with suspicion. He swallowed. Then he spotted the shaven head of Newt leaning over the map, and Old Jon beside him. That made him feel a little calmer.

A tall, white-haired man stepped out from among the group. There was something about him – an air of command – and suddenly Joseph felt very safe. This had to be Governor Skelmerdale. And he looked like the kind of person who got things done.

The governor spread his arms wide and smiled. ‘Welcome,' he said.

‘Your honour,' said Tabitha. She nudged Joseph, bowing low, and he hurried to copy her.

‘These are my watchmen, your honour,' said Newt. ‘But the last time I saw them, they had a ship and a crew. And where are the rest of the Watch?'

Joseph and Tabitha looked at each other. Then Tabitha took a deep breath and began to explain.

By the time she'd finished, Governor Skelmerdale was leaning on the table, his brow furrowed as he gazed into the distance.

‘Your honour,' said Newton. He was keeping his voice calm, but Joseph could tell from the sparkle in his eyes that he was excited. ‘This is good news after all. We'll send out search parties. Find this Pallione and bring the merfolk over to us. With them on our side, we'll stand a chance, even if the armada is as big as Tabitha says.'

‘Allow me, your honour …' said Cyrus Derringer, giving Newt a murderous look. ‘As commander of the Dockside Militia, I will be delighted to carry out my duty and find this mermaid for you.'

‘It doesn't matter who does it,' burst out Tabitha. ‘As long as it gets done.'

The governor held up a finger, and everyone fell quiet. He was still frowning.

‘We have lost time over this,' he said. ‘But that
can't be helped. We will set sail tomorrow at dawn. To engage the League.'

‘Engage the League?' said Joseph. His ears twitched with embarrassment as officers and blackcoats turned to look at him.

The governor stepped round the table and knelt down. For a moment his gaze made Joseph feel as if everything was going to be all right.

‘Yes, my little friend. You're very young, so I don't expect you to understand. But if we waste time hunting for this mermaid, the League ships will sail right into our harbour before our fleet has even left port. So to save the town we must let your friends go. I am truly sorry. But you must understand that this is war. And in war, we lose people. There is not always a happy ending, like in story books.'

Joseph could almost feel the hope draining out of him.

‘But—'

‘We will defeat the League though, you may be sure of that.' The governor rose, patting Joseph on the head. ‘They may have the advantage of numbers, but we have spirit, and a home to protect. We will prevail.' Joseph got the feeling that the governor wasn't talking just to him any more.

‘Your honour,' said Newton. There was a note of
panic in his voice. ‘If we set sail now, we can't win. Not without help. We have to—'

‘Have faith, Mr Newton. That is what we must do. Have faith.' Skelmerdale raised his voice. ‘Go, all of you, and prepare yourselves. Tomorrow, at dawn.' He waved a hand and blackcoats began crowding towards the door, muttering to each other.

‘But we're going to find that mermaid, aren't we?' Tabitha said, in a low voice. ‘We have to. We can stay behind in Port Fayt and—'

Old Jon's hand fell on her shoulder, cutting her off.

‘I'm sorry,' said Newton. He was frowning, and Joseph realized there was nothing the captain of the Demon's Watch could do.

A voice rose behind them.

‘Mr Newton,' said the governor. ‘A word, if you please.' He was motioning to a corner of the room, by the large windows.

‘Wait for me outside,' Newton told Tabitha and Joseph.

‘No need,' said the governor. ‘The watchmen can stay. The children and the old elf.'

As they followed Newton, Joseph caught a glimpse of Cyrus Derringer lingering by the map table, watching. His eyes narrowed in anger at Newt, before he clicked his boots together and
marched out of the room. The door shut with a bang.

Governor Skelmerdale was looking out of the window, hands behind his back, inspecting the immaculate green lawns of Wyrmwood Manor.

‘You are not afraid to speak your mind, Mr Newton,' he said. ‘I respect that.'

Newton shifted uncomfortably. ‘Just trying to do what's best. For Fayt.'

‘For Fayt. Indeed. Well, I am sorry to disappoint you. The League's fleet is strong, according to these children. I do not doubt it. But the merfolk do not concern themselves with the business of land dwellers, whatever they may say. They have not gone to war in centuries. Better to show strength in front of my officers than to trust in their help.'

‘Can't blame them, your honour. With all the shark-pit owners fishing them out of the ocean, no wonder they don't care too much for us.'

The governor spun round, his eyes full of fire. Joseph flinched at the sight. He'd heard stories about the governor's temper, but it was still a shock to see the rage flare up out of nowhere.

‘That's enough. They are not to be relied upon. Do you hear me?'

Newton stood his ground but said nothing. Almost
at once, the fire left the governor's eyes. He seemed suddenly weary.

‘You may leave the most important decisions to me, Mr Newton. But I do need someone with your … courage.'

‘Aye?'

Joseph saw Tabitha's fists clench – which meant she was either anxious or furious. Maybe both. Beyond, Old Jon waited calmly, taking it all in.

‘Indeed. Our flagship, the
Wyvern
, needs a captain. And I can think of no more suitable man in Port Fayt.'

Tabitha's mouth began to open. Before he knew what he was doing, Joseph reached out and took hold of her arm. Her temper was almost as bad as the governor's, and if she spoke out of turn, she'd end up in the Brig – or worse.

‘Your honour,' said Newton. ‘Surely Colonel Derringer would be a better—'

‘No. The elf is no good. You and I, Mr Newton, we are both leaders. We understand one another. Colonel Derringer will make a perfectly competent second-in-command, but he cannot inspire the men as you can.'

‘You're saying Derringer will be on the
Wyvern
too?'

‘Indeed. And take young Tabitha and Joseph with
you. Someone ought to keep an eye on them.' He gave them a friendly wink.

Joseph tightened his hold on Tabitha's arm. If they sailed on the
Wyvern
with Newt and Old Jon, there was no way they could track down the mermaid – even without the governor's permission. Which meant they wouldn't be able to get the watchmen back. But what choice did they have?

‘Are you sure, your honour?' said Newton. ‘The merfolk—'

‘I've already told you, Mr Newton, the merfolk are not like us. We cannot trust them. So what do you say?'

Newton looked at Old Jon, who gave the slightest of shrugs.

‘Very well then.'

Governor Skelmerdale stretched out his hand, beaming at last.

‘Congratulations,' he said, ‘to the commander of the fleet!'

JOSEPH DREAMED. IT
was market day, and he held his father's hand tightly as they threaded through the crowds in the Crosstree Quarter. Stallholders reached out, trying to draw them in with promises of the juiciest shellfish, the sharpest dragons' teeth and the fastest fairies in all the Ebony Ocean.

They stopped at a little stall on a corner – nothing but a rickety table with a red-and-white striped awning. Spread out on the table were long, elegant feathers, each one gleaming with a hundred different colours. When the breeze ruffled them they shimmered red, gold and green.

‘Are they griffin feathers?' Joseph asked.

His father chuckled.

‘Bless your heart, Joseph, I'm afraid not. Griffin feathers are even bigger than these and you won't get one for less than twenty ducats. No, these are cockatrice feathers.'

The stallholder was a goblin, just like Joseph's father. He leaned forward, taking a puff on his pipe.

‘Go ahead,' he said. ‘You can touch them.'

Joseph reached out and felt the nearest feather. It was silky and smooth, like his mother's hair.

‘Which one shall we have, eh, Joseph?' said his father. ‘Which one do you think your ma would like best?'

Joseph stood staring for a long while. At last he picked one out – deep translucent green with flecks of silver and gold.

His father grinned at him and winked.

‘Excellent choice, young 'un. Couldn't have chosen a better one myself. And that'll go nicely with her green dress too, won't it?' He counted out three ducats for the stallholder.

Before they left, the stallholder pressed something into Joseph's hand – a tiny red feather with a blue sheen.

‘That's from a baby cockatrice,' he said. ‘You keep it. And come back soon.'

Joseph held up the feather, twisting it in his fingers so it turned from red to blue and back again.

‘What do you say?' said Joseph's father.

‘Thank you.'

They were just turning to go when a voice called out behind them:

‘Eli.'

Two muscular men were making their way towards the stall.

‘Hello, Eli,' said one, grinning.

‘Morning, Ben.'

His father's grip tightened on his hand, and all of a sudden Joseph felt nervous.

‘This your boy, Eli?'

‘Aye. This is Joseph. Joseph, these here are Ben and Geoffrey. We all work together on the docks.'

‘Hello,' said Joseph.

Geoffrey leaned down towards him, and Joseph saw that he wasn't grinning any more.

‘What's wrong with your skin, boy?' he asked.

‘There's nothing wrong,' said Joseph's father. But Joseph noticed his ears twitch.

Ben laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

‘Geoffrey's just joking,' he said, though it hadn't seemed like a joke. ‘You're a mongrel, ain't you? Nothing wrong with that. You never told us, Eli.
Little souvenir of a misspent youth, is it?'

Joseph didn't really understand, but his father shook his head.