Part 41 (1/2)

'Was it like the royal standards that hung in the Towers of

Granite?'

'Oh no, my Lord, that would have been far too grand for the likes of a Candleman's wife. People would have laughed at me or stolen it to exchange for tallow or other treasure of the light.

It was a simple picture of the sun.'

'There must have been an owl in blue and gold somewhere in the picture,' persisted the King. 'What size was the scarf?'

Angis smiled, remembering her last few moments with Thane before he started his dangerous journey into exile.

187.

'No, my Lord, it was a summer sun and in my hands it was

nothing more than a scarf, but the moment Thane took it, it seemed to change in shape and size and yet it pa.s.sed easily into his pocket.'

'Did it burn or s.h.i.+ne with light?' pressed the King.

Angis frowned and then slowly nodded. 'The picture did seem to come alive as Thane touched it.'

King Holbian laughed, his heart lighter than it had been for many daylights. There was still room for hope, even here in this dark hole beneath the ground, and he forged ahead to come to Breakmaster and Grey Goose in heated argument.

'The road divides here, my Lord,' Breakmaster said, as the King drew level.

'Can you tell which way the Chancellors chose?' asked Holbian, searching in his pocket for a spark.

'They took the left-hand road,' Grey Goose replied in the fierce light of the spark.

'That is our road then. We must follow them,' commanded the King.

'What is that?' asked Angis, pointing up into the roof of the secret road. Taking the King's spark she reached up into the roof, moving her hand backwards and forwards.

'It is roots,' laughed Breakmaster, 'the roots of a giant tree.

Look, they arch the road in both directions. We must be pa.s.sing beneath a great forest.'

With the extinguished spark safely back inside his pocket King Holbian moved on. He felt warm inside the steelsilver coat but a chill wind now blew against his face and far ahead he could hear a roaring noise and he s.h.i.+vered, fearing what might lie across their path.

Swanwater

Ogion looked across the darkening landscape, searching for a place to rest. Far behind on a broken ridge the hors.e.m.e.n had slowed to a walk.

'Rest, rest,' he hissed, descending towards a grey stretch of marshland water. Fanning his wings he touched the lake and ploughed up a white crested wave, sending small ripples through the tall black-flecked bullrushes. One by one the grey swans followed Ogion down and landed on the lake.

Thane saw the sun reflected in the ripples from the swans which spread across the lake and he dismounted. Yawning he led Stumble down through jagged thorn bushes to the water's edge and began cutting branches for a fire.

'No fire!' Ogion hissed, wading ash.o.r.e and knocking the bundle of wood roughly out of Thane's arms. 'The Nightmare

has set many Nightbeast watchers. No fire.'