Roland's Castle (17 page)

Dagarth replied, “Oh that’s no
good! What if he doesn’t? Then he’s called our bluff! I wouldn’t
give myself up for the old fool, and
that boy
is far too
clever to. The old man isn’t worth a groat and he knows it. Anyway,
I want him to suffer before we kill him – for a long time, if
possible. A week will do. Then we’ll kill him.”

“Alright,” said Bril-a-Brag “– a
week, and if we have not found another way to flush the boy out we
will threaten to kill the old man - after he’s suffered. Perhaps
knowing he’s suffering will make the boy give himself up,
anyway.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath,”
Dagarth said.

At that moment they noticed Roland
standing, transfixed with fear that he might be recognised. Dagarth
obviously didn’t recognise him. He simply came up to Roland, peered
in the dish and asked, “Is that for the prisoner?”

Roland tried to nod, as best as he
could with his eyes locked onto the ground before him. Dagarth
clearly took the nod as a yes as he spat into the food., “Give it
to the old fool with my compliments.” And he shouted over to the
man-at arms standing by the door, “open up,”

The door to the cell was opened and
Roland hurried in.

The cell was in fact an old storage
room with only a small, high window overlooking the moat. It was
dingy, dark and rat infested, Just the way Dagarth liked them
Roland thought.

Firebrace was not in a good way. He
was lying down, injured and in pain.

“Who is that?” he asked, blinded by
the sudden light as he had been in darkness.

"Sshh! it's Roland."

“Roland! I was sure you would
come!”

Roland put down the meal, “Don't
eat that. Everyone’s spat in it – even Brother Goodwill!”

“And even Dagarth?” Firebrace
asked.

“Even Dagarth,” Roland
confirmed.

“Fair enough. I always used to spit
in his when I had the chance!”

Roland then went back to the
corridor to see if he could buy them more time to talk.

When he looked out of the door
Dagarth, Bril-a-Brag and Gloatenglorp were gone and only the guard
stood on duty. Roland took a risk and told a lie, “I have orders to
tend to the prisoner’s wounds.”

The guard
merely nodded and grunted. Roland hurried back to Firebrace. He did
what he could with his wounds whilst the old man talked, “There
isn’t much time so I must tell you what you need to know. To do
what you must do next you must understand why the tower is here.
This place was not chosen merely for its hills or its farmland – it
was chosen for the cause of these things. This is a special place,
a place where the powers of the earth and the powers of the sky
converge to enable nature to make her wonders. There is a bond
here, a cord between the earth and the sky. The tower was built to
channel those powers and to protect the cord from its enemies.

‘Like all good things, it has
enemies, creatures that seek to destroy it. They sought to prevent
it being built from the day the first stone was laid, and they
still seek to destroy it.”

“The Spirus?” Roland asked.

“No, not the Spirus. They are of a
kin to the enemy of the tower, but they are not the main enemy. I
am speaking of our oldest, most powerful, enemy; the Sh’Mordra, –
the Storm Lords.

“Your great great grandfather
fought a great battle against them and they did not return for many
generations. But when they did – when you were just a small baby
–there were more of them than ever before. They had grown vastly in
number, and had also grown more devious, more ruthless and more
powerful. So another great battle was fought to defend the tower –
a battle we all but lost.

“And this was how my mother
died?”

“No Roland. It is not how your
mother died, because your mother did not die.”

Roland gasped, “But where is she
then? What happened to her?”

We would have lost completely –lost
everything - but for your mother. The Storm Lords were on the point
of victory. They had pushed us back on all fronts and were
attacking the tower itself. The tower began to fracture, the cord
itself to break under their assault.

It was then that your mother made a
great sacrifice – for you Roland, as much an anyone else - whilst
you slept below. She stood by the edge of the fracture and cast
herself into it, allowing her own life energies to blend with it,
to feed and heal it. Now she is bound to it, trapped within it.
Your mother is here, Roland, always, she is part of the vital bond
between the earth and the sky, part of the cord that channels the
life force between them.”

“My poor mother!” Roland said, “Is
there no hope that she can be released?”

The secret of your mother’s release
– and I am sure there is one - is what your father has gone to
find. It is a dangerous task and one wrong step will kill her, and
sever the link binding the earth and the sky. It must be done with
full knowledge. It was a very difficult decision for him, whether
to remain here with you, or whether to seek a way to free your
mother. He has gone to seek men and women of wisdom who know the
answers…”

“Roland was angry: “I should have
been told this before!”

“To what end?” Firebrace asked, “I
have said before, your father and I protected you for too long. But
how would we have explained to a small child that his mother was
gone, yet at the same time still here - not really living but not
really dead either?”

“But you could have told me
later.”

“When was the right time? We didn’t
know! We didn’t know when the crisis would come. We put it off too
long, as I say, but we didn’t know when, and we wanted you to be a
child for as long as possible.”

Roland saw the truth of it and
began to calm down. Firebrace continued, “The Warriors of the Sun
were not strong enough because they had dwelt too far, for too
long, from the source of their power. You must seek younger,
stronger warriors, newly born in the crucible of the sun - you must
go to the sun itself.”

“What!” Roland boggled “Isn’t that
a long way? And upwards! I ‘m not a bird – if even birds can get
there!”

“It is a journey I have never made
– I don’t know if any human has made it, but you must, to refresh
our forces, if we are to win. To get there you must first go up to
the very top of the tower, to the place that is known as the First
Plain of the Sky. Beware the Nollynocks and the Grimbles! On the
plain search for the creatures known as the Whales of the Sky –
they will take you to the moon. The Moon-Dwellers will know of a
way to get you to the very heart of the sun, safely. There you must
seek the help of

the Great Council of Grand Flames –
the rulers of the sun.”

‘The Storm Lords will do what they
can to stop you getting there but you will not be on your own.
Through your mother great powers can be summoned to assist you. It
will tax her enormously to fight them as well as to keep the cord
together, so you must do as much of the work as you can.”

“You are coming with us,” Roland
said, “We are going to get you out of here. I can’t leave you to be
tortured.”

“Roland, listen to me,” Firebrace
said and stretched out his hand and to hold Roland’s, “I have a
wound in my side and my leg is cut in three places. I am in no
condition to go anywhere. If you want to save me, and your mother
and father and this castle and all those who depend on it – the
world - you must do what I say. Leave me here. I will be alright.
Dagarth cannot do anything that will really hurt me. Now go, get
away, and get help!”

Reluctantly Roland stepped back and
turned to the door. He looked back at his old mentor, who nodded,
and then he left.

The guard had gone to sleep on his
feet. On many another occasion Roland would have thought it good
fun to shout “Boo!” at him, or even try to impersonate Serjeant
Jankers, “What’s all this then! Asleep on duty! It’s a fizzer for
you!” – but now was most definitely not the time. He carefully and
quietly took the keys off of the man’s belt, locked the cell and
hung the keys back on the sleeping guard. As silently as possible
he made his way to the outer door and slipped across the courtyard.
Serjeant Jankers had sorted out the rabble so he was able to slip
back into the tower without further trouble – until he had to wake
up Botherworth, of course. Luckily he was getting used to dealing
with the cantankerous janitor!

“We have to go
where?
”
Oliver asked, unsure he had heard right.

“To the sun,” Roland repeated,
“That’s what Firebrace told me.”

“Are you sure he didn’t just mean
somewhere sunnier and warmer?”

“I am sure he meant the sun in the
sky,” Roland said.

“And did he come up with any
suggestions as to how to get there?” Oliver asked, still highly
sceptical.

“As a matter of fact he did. We
take the tower’s lift up to the First Plain of The Sky, find the
Whales of the Sky, and they somehow get us to the moon, and then we
ask the Moon-Dwellers how we get to the sun.”

“Well, it all sounds so simple when
you put it like that. Look, are you sure he hasn’t gone perfectly
potty?”

“Apparently my mother will help us.
She is not dead.”

Oliver realised that Roland was
serious as he would not joke about his mother. He said, “We do need
reinforcements. If Firebrace knows what he is talking about….”

“I am sure he does,” Roland
said.

“I hope this doesn’t mean we have
to solve riddles and all that sort of rubbish, gatekeepers
demanding that we ‘Answer me these questions three’…”

“If anyone starts up with that sort
of thing I’ll personally slice their jonglies off,” Savitri said,
slicing the air with her sword.

When they asked Brother Goodwill to
go with them he was overjoyed and hugged them all several times
over. He was sure they were going to have
such a lovely
time
!

“It
will
be an
adventure
! We will all be
adventurers
together! Won’t
it be wonderful! I simply can’t wait! All we have to do is to get
the key off Mister Botherworth and we can go!”

“Botherworth has the key?” Oliver
asked, feeling an ‘uh-oh’ coming on.

“The only one, unfortunately. He is
the janitor after all – the word ‘janitor’ being derived from
Janus, the Roman god of gates and doorways. Mr Botherworth is very
possessive of the key. He will not give it up for rhyme or
reason.”

“I will make him give it up!” said
Savitri, drawing her sword, “And
no
rhymes,” she added.

“Oh my goodness no!” Brother
Goodwill protested, “No! Botherworth is useful, whatever his
peculiarities and nuisances. We must not offend him. No, all we
need to do is to ask him to come up to the top with us and let us
out – he will do that – I hope. There is no need for bloodshed;
just good manners, good will and…. fortitude!”

“Up the top of the tower?!”
Botherworth said, looking up at them in disbelief from his low
doorway, “What you wanna go up the top for?”

“Because it’s there,” Roland
said.

“Huh!” Botherworth grunted, “Young
people! Always off on some jaunt. And I suppose you’ll be wanting
to come down too, I suppose.”

“It had occurred,” Roland
replied.

“Look, joyrides is not what the
equipment is for. The lift is fragile and if you’re just going up
to come down again…”

“We need to get out and go
somewhere up there,” Roland said, impatient.

“Ah, well, you’ll need the key to
unlock the door then, wont you?”

“I think he’s got it,” Oliver
said.

“And none of your fresh young
cheek, either!” Botherworth responded.

“It’s the only type we have,”
Oliver replied, cheekily, with added cheek on top.

“Well you’re not having the key.
It’s my responsibility and it never leaves me. It’s locked onto my
belt by a lock and the key to that lock is on a chain that’s also
locked onto my belt and the only key that unlocks that lock is also
locked onto my belt, so you can’t have it!”

“Then perhaps you might think of
coming up with us and unlocking the door yourself,” Roland
said.

“All the way up there! You must be
joking! I’ve better things to do.”

“We’ll just have to break the door
down - or pick the lock,” Roland said, looking straight at the
man.

“Oh no you don’t! You young
vandals! I’ll have you if you break tower property!”

“The tower is
mine
, the door
is
mine
,” Roland said, “I cannot vandalise my own property.
If you don’t open it we will break it down and leave the repairs to
someone else…”

Botherworth thought, “Well,
alright… I s’pose. You’ll need someone to come with you up there
anyway – there’s things up there you won’t like!”

“You mean the Sh’Mordra?” Roland
asked, “Aren’t you afraid of them?”

Botherworth reached into a corner
behind the door, produced a broom and brandished it defiantly,
“That’s what this is for! Dealing with the vermin is part of the
job description! What with them and the rats in the cellar, I just
don’t get paid enough!

Now, lets get going before I change
my mind!”

Roland laughed. For the first time
he was actually beginning to like Botherworth.

They stepped into the lift. It
reminded Roland of a cage.

The sides were made of vertical
brass rods with gaps between them so that you could see straight
through to the sides of the lift shaft. The gates were made of a
criss-crossed metal slats and folded away to the sides. Botherworth
drew them closed and pressed some buttons on a panel beside them.
The lift groaned, then moaned, then started moving upwards, slowly
at first but then gathering speed with a hum that grew louder as
they passed up the shaft. Occasionally very thin slits of light,
like vertical columns, passed by and they guessed that these were
doors to the various levels. There were certainly a lot of them.
Even though the lift was now going at quite a lick they were
passing floor after floor with seemingly no end to it.