The Wings of Ruksh (16 page)

While Clara sat huddled, fearful and lonely, in the cave in the mountains and Mrs MacLean tossed and turned in the throes of her nightmare, other important events were happening in the world of magic; for the MacArthur had been busy and was now putting his cunning plan into action.

They were all there on the slopes of Arthur’s Seat: Sir James, Tatler and the Chief Constable, as well as a whole host of MacArthurs who had come to wish Archie and Arthur a safe journey. Standing on a crag, high up on the hill, Sir James, like the others, was bitterly cold and, stamping his feet to keep his circulation going, drew his winter coat closer around him. Despite its thickness, it was poor protection against a wind that was steadily freezing him to the marrow and, despite his
excitement
, he thought longingly of hot baths and central heating; for the slopes of Arthur’s Seat at two o’clock in the morning had little to offer in the way of comfort.

As they stood there, huddled against the biting wind, the MacArthur, Tatler, Sir James and the Chief Constable all peered at their watches from time to time and, as the hour approached, Sir James started the countdown. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, zero …” he muttered.

When he reached “zero,” they all looked up expectantly,
casting
their eyes over the vast stretch of lights that glittered,
spider-like
, over Edinburgh and beyond and, exactly as planned, each and every light went out. Emergency generators suddenly cranked into life all over the city, electrical engineers swore as they were dragged out of bed to attend to the emergency and those hapless individuals caught in the dark, were reduced to feeling their way home without even the comforting gleam of
moonlight to help them on their way. It was a moonless night, which was exactly why the MacArthur had chosen it!

Sir James switched on his torch, as did the others, and turned to look at the side of the hill where Archie and Arthur were waiting.

He was a magnificent dragon, thought Sir James, as he watched Arthur move out of the tunnel, clawing his way
awkwardly
towards them. Curls of smoke blew from his nostrils as he flapped his wings, delighted at being above ground again.

Archie, dressed in sheepskin from top to toe, made his way over to them, guided by the light of their torches.

“You look a bit like an Eskimo in all that gear,” Sir James laughed, pulling at the fur-lined hood that framed his face.

“Aye,” Archie grinned, “but on a night like this, I’ll need every bit of it. And it’ll be colder still once I’m out over the sea.”

“You’re quite sure you know what you’ve to do then?” checked the MacArthur.

Archie nodded and indicated the saddlebags that hung over Arthur’s back. “It’s all there,” he nodded. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. Arthur’s looking forward to the fun of it all and,” he said looking around, “as it’s a dark night, I doubt if
anybody
out there’ll spot us!”

“Watch out for the oil rigs, though,” Tatler cautioned. “They have their own power supply and they’ll be as brightly lit as Christmas trees.”

“I’ll mind out for them,” Archie grinned, climbing onto Arthur’s back and gripping the saddle as he settled himself comfortably.

Arthur listened carefully as the MacArthur spoke to him
seriously
and nodded his great head understandingly. “Remember, Arthur, their radar can’t pick you up. Just avoid the ships’ lights and you ought to be okay.”

The MacArthur then stepped back and they all waved to Archie as Arthur’s wings started to sweep through the air with increasing strength.

“Good luck,” Sir James called as they watched the great dragon soar effortlessly upwards, his massive bulk swallowed immediately by the darkness of the night sky.

“How long,” asked the Chief Constable, looking after him in wonder, “do you think it’ll take him?”

“The best part of the night, I should think,” answered the MacArthur. “He has quite a way to travel, you know — although, of course, a lot depends on where the French fleet is lying!”

Archie was well-nigh frozen stiff by the time the French fleet came into view. Although he’d been alert and excited as they’d soared over the invisible mass of the darkened coastline, the monotony of flying over the dark waters of the North Sea soon palled as an occupation; especially as the night was pitch black and he couldn’t see anything at all.

Arthur, however, being a dragon, didn’t suffer from this disadvantage, for his wonderful eyes could see equally well in both the dark and the daylight. Flying directly out to sea, he gave a couple of brilliantly lit oil rigs a wide berth, avoided a few helicopters and then, veering southwards, curved towards the fish-rich waters of the Dogger Bank where he was pretty sure he would find the French trawlers and their accompanying naval escort.

Archie’s first indication that they were approaching the French fleet was the sudden gleam and twinkle of lights from a myriad of fishing boats, and a more stately glow from vessels that were obviously much bigger.

“There they are, Arthur! It must be the French! Gosh, there are loads of boats!” Archie said excitedly.

“Let’s check,” Arthur said, losing height rapidly until he literally swooped over the waves so that Archie could read the names on the sides of the trawlers.

“Marie Claire,” Archie read one of the names aloud, “Cherbourg.” His brow creased. “Cherbourg,” he repeated.
“That’s a French port! It’s them, all right! Come on, Arthur, let’s get started!”

As Arthur flew over the fishing fleet, Archie loosened the saddlebags so that a constant stream of glittering magic dust floated through the air and landed in and around the trawlers and although some of the fishermen, scanning the surrounding blackness fearfully, seemed to sense the presence of something unusual, there was no sudden outcry to indicate that he had been spotted.

The battleships, however, proved quite a different kettle of fish for, as Arthur and his magic dust swept across the French fleet in the total, utter darkness of the night, he was spotted! Not by the glow of the ships’ lights, for he was too high for that, but by the wonders of modern technology.

It was the MacArthur’s fault, really. Not quite up to scratch with the latest in military inventions, he had omitted to include night-vision goggles in his calculations. Indeed, he’d never heard of them and had relied on the fact that Arthur didn’t show up on radar screens to afford him protection.

This, however, wasn’t enough and before long one of the officers on watch caught sight of his great shape flying over the biggest and most illustrious of all the French battleships.

At first, needless to say, he just couldn’t believe his eyes. He took his goggles off, polished them up with his handkerchief and eyed the battleship again. By that time, however, Arthur had moved on and there was nothing to see. He sighed with relief but now on the alert, started to scan the sky above the nearby ships. And he spotted Arthur again.

“Hey, Henri,” he called, beckoning another officer onto the bridge. “Come here a minute, will you.”

“What’s up, Jacques?”

“Put your goggles on and look over there,” Jacques said,
hurriedly
. “Hurry up, put them on and tell me what you see. Over there … to starboard. What the devil’s that?”

“It looks,” Henri said, his eyes round in disbelief as he
adjusted the night vision, “it looks a bit like a dragon, wouldn’t you say?”

“That’s what I thought!” They looked at one another
apprehensively
.

“The radar room,” Jacques said sharply as reality kicked in. “What in heaven’s name are they doing down there? They should have spotted it ages ago. It should never have got within a mile of us!” He swore roundly as they left the bridge at a gallop and charged down the companionway. “Why the devil haven’t they sounded the alarm!”

The sailors manning the quietly-bleeping banks of radar screens looked up in surprise as the two officers barged
hurriedly
into the room and made straight for the monitors,
peering
at them over the men’s shoulders.

“Hey,” one of them protested. “what’s all this?”

Henri couldn’t believe his eyes. “They’re … they’re not
picking
anything up, Jacques,” he said incredulously, ignoring the question and peering at the screen over the operator’s shoulder. “Not a thing!”

“Maybe if you were to tell me what I should be picking up, sir, it might help?” queried the radar operator dryly.

Henri and Jacques looked at one another.

Jacques took a deep breath. “There’s something huge flying over the fleet,” he said. “I don’t know what it is but it looks like an enormous dragon!”

The radar operators looked at one another and grinned. “You
are
having us on, sir, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not! We both saw it.”

Henri nodded. “Whatever it is, it’s cruising over the fleet right now!”

The radar operators glanced at their screens, just to check, and, seeing nothing, looked at their officers through narrowed eyes. There was nothing there and they were not impressed.

“I wonder if they’re going to wake the captain up,” said one wickedly, glancing at his friends for support. “Although I can’t
say
I’d
like to wake up the old man with a tale like that!”

There was burst of laughter as Jacques and Henri looked at one another in disgust and left them to the green glow of their radar screens. Scrambling up the companionway to the bridge, they hastily pulled on their goggles and once more scanned the darkness of the heavens.

This time, however, the sky was completely and utterly empty. They looked at one another in dismay — for the
monstrous
creature that they had seen soaring in the blackness of the night sky had completely vanished.

Frantically, they scanned the surrounding area again and again but there was no dragon to be seen anywhere and it was just when they had decided that it must have been a figment of their imagination that one of the radio officers came up to them and handed them a piece of paper. Jacques scanned it quickly and looked at Henri in triumph. “It wasn’t only us that spotted it,” he burst out, thrusting the paper into his hands. “Look at this! An officer on one of the cruisers saw it too!”

“But where has it gone?” Henri questioned, looking up in to the darkness. “It seems to have completely disappeared.”

By then, they were far too late to catch a glimpse of Arthur for he had finished his work and, with Archie perched tiredly on his back, was was already heading for home.

Sir James, Tatler and the Chief Constable all spent the night inside the hill. Sir James had become used to the wide,
stone-flagged
corridors that arched dimly towards the sleeping quarters, but Tatler and the Chief Constable marvelled at the size of rooms that housed vast wardrobes and huge four-poster beds. Tapestries, depicting dragons, unicorns and other strange creatures, draped the walls, and the old furniture gleamed with polished brilliance. Sir James relaxed for a while in the welcome warmth of a fire that burned brightly in the depth of an enormous fireplace and then, totally exhausted, headed for bed. As he pulled the blankets and fur covers over him, he had only time to think momentarily of Arthur and Archie, flying over the icy waves of the North Sea, before his eyes closed and sleep overtook him.

They all slept late and it was almost ten o’clock when they gathered for breakfast in the Great Hall where Hamish told them that Archie and Arthur had returned safely just before dawn.

“It all went without a hitch,” the MacArthur assured them in a voice filled with satisfaction as they poured themselves coffee.

“Wonderful,” Sir James congratulated him.

“When will you know if the spell has worked?” Tatler asked, a trifle anxiously. “I thought I’d better check before I passed the news on to Charles Wyndham and the Prime Minister.”

“It’s working already,” the MacArthur grinned gleefully. “Archie and Arthur have just gone to get cleaned up. They’ll be back in a minute but we had a look in the crystal when they came in, and from the way the French are behaving it seems to have just dawned on them that they’re in big trouble!”

They strolled over to the stand that held the crystal and stared into its depth. As it showed nothing more than a thick, white mist it was hardly exciting viewing but Sir James sighed with relief. The MacArthur’s cunning plan was working a treat!

“The spell will take care of the French,” nodded the MacArthur, looking round the table, “but it’s the crown that’s our main
concern
now.” His voice became serious as they sat back and
listened
. “I spoke to Ellan earlier on and she told me that Rothlan, Hamish and Jaikie have finally managed to rejoin them. I told you that Kalman set the snow witches onto them, didn’t I? Rothlan had to call up the storm carriers to finish them off but he lost Clara and Amgarad in the battle. Amgarad was frozen by the witches’ spells but apparently he’s fine now.”

“And Clara?” Sir James asked anxiously as Tatler and the Chief Constable looked at one another in alarm.

The MacArthur frowned. “Kalman is using the crown’s magic to hide her from us. The crystals haven’t been able to pick her up at all.”

“But that’s dreadful.” Sir James looked horrified.

“Don’t worry, Sir James,” the MacArthur reassured him. “You’re forgetting the Sultan’s spell. Kalman might be able to keep her prisoner but he won’t be able to harm her. He’d know immediately that a strong spell is protecting her.”

“Aren’t Lord Rothlan and her father trying to find her?”
queried
the Chief Constable.

“Amgarad is going to search the mountains for her today, but the others have to press on to Ardray.”

“Did you tell Rothlan about Kalman’s meeting with the Scottish Executive tomorrow?” queried Sir James.

“I did. At three o’clock, you said.”

Sir James nodded. “It’s
so
important that Rothlan moves into the tower at the right time,” he said, frowning worriedly. “I’m getting totally paranoid about it!”

The MacArthur nodded. “So am I,” he admitted. “Time’s
getting short. They just
have
to find Clara soon. Rothlan can’t change back to the twenty-first century until they do.”

Sir James looked worried. “I hope to goodness our plan works,” he muttered. “Kalman seems to have been winning all along the line. What if he cancels this meeting?”

“Relax, James. He can’t afford to miss it. You know that,” the MacArthur said seriously. “Not if it’s going to prove his claim beyond doubt!”

Sir James frowned as he looked round the table. “Parliament is absolutely buzzing with it all,” he said to Tatler and Sir Archie, “and to tell you the truth I find it totally mind-boggling the way everybody is supporting his claim. Believe me; I haven’t dared say a word against him! They’re for him to a man, just as he planned.” He heaved a sigh and shook his head.

“Then there’s no doubt that he’ll be proclaimed king?” Tatler said.

“No doubt at all! The latest news is that de Charillon’s
waiting
for a courier who’s bringing more papers from Paris. If they arrive in time, he’ll pass them on to Stuart and, according to Ned, they’ll provide absolute proof.”

The MacArthur drank the remains of his coffee. “Aye, that I can well believe,” he said sourly. “Forgeries, the lot of them!”

They all rose to their feet as Arthur and Archie appeared. Sir James slapped Archie on the back with a beaming smile and there were murmurs of congratulation all round. Arthur perched happily beside the MacArthur and was about to join in the conversation when he glimpsed the glow of the crystal ball.

“Did you know that the mist’s vanished?” he queried.

The MacArthur got up and adjusted the crystal. “It’s all right,” he said reassuringly as they all sprang to their feet in alarm, “it’s just homed in on something else.” His face creased in a puzzled frown. “Where do you think
this
is?” he asked.

Tatler looked over his shoulder and almost had a heart attack as he looked at the figures that moved in the crystal. “That’s Bruiton!” he gasped. “The French Foreign Minister! I
don’t know where he is but it’s him all right!”

With one accord they clustered round the crystal and watched with fascinated eyes as Marcel Bruiton, followed by a horde of officials, marched into what looked like a vast, underground room.

“It must be part of the Ministry of Defence in Paris,” Tatler muttered as he eyed the uniformed figures.

“In that case, this ought to prove very interesting,” the Chief Constable said, with a grin as they settled excitedly to watch the French reaction to the MacArthur’s cunning plan.