Part 18 (2/2)

'I daresay most of their witcheries are no more than mumbo-jumbo, done to frighten credulous folk,' said Mabon.

'But that owl did turn into Mrs Vavasour,' said Dido. 'It ain't all mumbo-jumbo.' And there was my reflection in the mirror, she thought.

Elen said, 'Bran used to tell us when we were children that witchcraft was the wickedness in several people's minds combining to form something worse still. Like making poison by mixing things that are harmless taken singly.' She looked into Holystone's face wistfully. 'Artaius? Gwydion? Can you really remember nothing of when we were children?'

He shook his head. 'Only a vagueness like a dream, half-caught.'

'You don't recall how you used to stay with us? Or that Bran, here, was your tutor?'

'The best pupil I ever had,' Bran said. 'He never had to stay in to learn his princ.i.p.al parts, as you and your brothers did, Princess.'

'Why can't I remember?' muttered Holystone, pressing his brow, as if to make a hole and let air into his brain.

'Some external force is blocking your mind for its own ends,' Bran told him. 'It is of no consequence. You know that you are the High King. Other memory will return in time.'

The Governor's cat had followed Elen, and now jumped into her lap.

'They still follow you, eh?' said her father. 'Did they do so in that English Bath? And what did Miss Castelreagh say to that?'

'Oh, she was a very kind lady, Dadda. She sent her dutiful respects to you, when I left, and gave me a pomander-ball and a copy of Dr Johnson's Dictionary of the English Language. The pomander-ball I lost when the pirates captured our s.h.i.+p, but the dictionary has proved very useful.'

'Nothing like a good vocabulary, I always say.' King Mabon beamed at his daughter. 'But look, supper's ready all your favourites, my dear. Roast mutton, bara brith and syllabub!'

10.

Since he had had no expectation of meeting his daughter when he first began his tour of the kingdom, King Mabon had brought no ladies-in-waiting with him. Dido kindly offered to perform this office for the princess until they reached Lyonesse City.

'As to that,' said Elen, 'personal maids weren't allowed at Miss Castelreagh's, so I managed for myself all the time I was at school. But I'd be glad if you would share my room, Dido; I still feel nervous when I think of that cave; if I listen, I think I can hear those old witches flapping and hissing outside.' She s.h.i.+vered uneasily.

'I've never been to school. Did you like it?' asked Dido, hoping to distract her.

'All but the embroidery. I must have st.i.tched at least eighteen miles of it in the nine years I was there! I made a vow that when I got back to Lyonesse I'd never touch a needle again.'

They were brus.h.i.+ng each other's hair with bunches of ichu gra.s.s. There was no looking-gla.s.s in the room, but Dido suddenly recollected that she still had Queen Ginevra's little diamond-studded hand-mirror, and pulled it from her jacket pocket.

'Why!' she said, pleased, 'my reflection's come back.'

'What can you mean?'

'Queen Ginevra took it.' Dido explained how her image had gone from the bowl and gla.s.ses.

'I daresay her power grows less the farther you are from Bath,' Elen suggested.

Dido wondered rather dismally what would happen to Mr Holystone when he returned to that city.

'Oh!' cried Elen, as if catching this thought. 'I can't bear it that he's married to that hateful woman. When he has gone back to c.u.mbria I shall probably never see him again.'

Dido saw that there were tears in the princess's eyes.

Poor thing, she thought. I used to reckon it'd be all jam and high jinks being a princess, but I guess that ain't so; they don't have it much better than ordinary folk.

'Come, cheer up,' she said gruffly. 'You can't ever tell how things'll turn out. Maybe they'll look better in the morning. Us had best get to bed.'

In the middle of the night, however, they were woken by a tap on the door. Dido, opening it cautiously, saw Mr Multiple, who had been posted outside to keep guard. He looked very strange pale, ghastly, and staring-eyed.

'Why, what's up, Mr Mully?'

'Quick don't make any noise, but follow me, both of you!' he whispered. 'There is horrible danger!' His freckles were black dots against the pallor of his cheeks, his red hair was dark and lank with sweat.

'What the blazes can it be? Where's Mr Holy and King Mabon and Bran?'

'Hus.h.!.+ Come outside and I will tell you! The princess top!'

Dido was disturbed and dubious, but Mr Multiple whispered, 'Please come!' with such urgency that Elen said, 'Very well, we will follow you,' and the two girls wrapped themselves in togas and tiptoed after him. He led them swiftly but silently to a side entrance that opened into a narrow lane beside the Governor's house. Dido, following him, noticed that he seemed oddly bulky; how'd he ever get so fat so fast? she wondered; he must have fairly tucked into that roast mutton and syllabub.

Outside, in the alley 'Now then, what is -?' Dido began, but before she could utter another syllable her hands were grabbed and tied behind her and she was lifted up and b.u.mped down uncomfortably on to the crupper of somebody's saddle. 'Make no sound!' a voice hissed in her ear. 'Do you feel this blade?' Dido nodded. A sharp point was jabbed between her ribs. 'It will gut you like a herring if you let out a single squeak.' Elen had been similarly pinioned and mounted. Looking in horror and outrage for Mr Multiple how could he have been capable of such treachery? Dido gasped with astonishment. An enormous snake which had been coiled round him under his jacket now dropped to the ground and slithered away into the shadows. Half-fainting with terror the wretched mids.h.i.+pman was also tied up and dragged on to a pony; then the troop of their captors there seemed to be nine or ten set off silently and speedily through the dark streets of Wandesborough. The ponies' hoofs were m.u.f.fled in sacking and made no sound. Dido thought they must surely be stopped when they came to the town gate, but no: evidently the sentries had been poisoned or drugged, for they lolled in their guard-boxes like limp marionettes and never stirred as the riders pa.s.sed by. Once outside the wall, the ponies' pace was increased to a gallop.

There was a little light from the old moon, which hung like a sliver of coconut in one corner of the sky, and Dido could see that they were taking a course at right-angles to that followed by King Mabon when he and his legionaries returned to the town. Best keep a watch for landmarks, Dido thought; not much else to be done just now.

There were few landmarks to be seen in this huge gra.s.sy basin, but they rode with the four stars of the Southern Cross behind them and to the right, which must mean that they were heading north-east; and away to the left a red glow, and occasional sparkles in the sky, suggested that Mount Catelonde was fretting and fidgeting as Mr Holystone had done in his haunted sleep.

Blister me, thought Dido angrily, I'll never trust anybody ever again. I reckon this must be more of Queen Ginevra's doing; wonder how she knew that Mr Mully was so scared of snakes? Poor thing, he must feel terrible bad.

She half wished she could get near him to comfort him; but felt impatient with his cowardice too. He mighta managed to give us some hint; so we could have raised the alarm. But then, in fairness, she thought: I've never had a snake wrapped round my midriff, I mightn't feel so devil-may-care if I had.

After an hour's hard riding the party reached a region of steeper hillsides and small deep valleys. By now dawn was beginning to pale the sky and a faint glow showed where the sun would rise, over on the right. Dido was confirmed in her guess that they were travelling towards New c.u.mbria. By a different route, evidently, not through the Pa.s.s of Nimue; and indeed, approaching a high crag, where cascading lava from Mount Pampoyle had hardened into a kind of rock ladder, they dismounted and climbed up to an entrance in the cliff face above them. The three captives were prodded forward at dagger-point, and some of their guards stood below as they climbed, pointing crossbows at them.

'Don't try to jump,' Dido's guard warned her, 'or you'll come to ground spitted like a pigeon.'

He wore a hood, but she thought she recognised his voice.

Having entered the cave, their captors lit candles in gla.s.s lanterns and urged the prisoners forward at a rapid walk. At this point Mr Multiple managed to get near the two girls.

'I'm sorry, Your Highness, I'm sorry,' he muttered miserably. Dido saw that tears were running down his cheeks; he looked utterly wretched. 'Oh, I could kill myself,' he cried. 'But what good would that do?'

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