Sword and the Spell 01: The Grey Robe (41 page)

Perguine was pleased with the report which he listened
to as he led Jonderill to the far end of the village, where he stopped at a
dark inn with a broken sign. Jonderill looked at the door warily but Perguine
walked straight in allowing the smell of roasting meat to waft out to where
Jonderill was hesitating. The smell was irresistible as was the tart cider which
accompanied it and the soft feather mattress and clean blankets which the two
of them shared in an upstairs room.

In the morning he felt less suspicious of his new
companion and had an answer ready for when Perguine again posed the question of
where should they start looking for the man who would break the enchantment.

"I suppose the best place would be back at the woodsman's
cottage,” said Jonderill, “That’s where she spent the last four summers."

"Nows yer talkin', I'll make a snoop out of yer
yet."

For most of the day they walked in silence,
occasionally meeting a traveller heading towards Alewinder to see the
mysterious hedge and stopping twice to drink from a stream and eat the remains
of the food stashed in Perguine’s large hidden pockets. Once they were on the
forest pathways, where there were no travellers, Perguine told him hilarious
tales of being a thief, pick-pocket and scoundrel in an attempt to make him
laugh.

"But I aint never killed no one," he
insisted vehemently. "I don't 'old wiv killin' so’s I don't carry no
weapon 'cept me knife an' that aint for 'urtin' no one. S'pose that's why I'm
so light on me feet on accounts that I do more than me share of 'idin' and
runnin.'"

Jonderill laughed somewhat bitterly; it was a nice
idea if you could manage it.

The sun had almost set by the time they reached the
cottage in the forest clearing. Long shadows speckled the ground as the last of
the sun's rays filtered through the leafy canopy and house flyers swooped back
and forth to their nesting place beneath the thatched roof. Both men strained
their ears for the slightest unusual sound but everywhere seemed as calm and as
peaceful as a deserted cottage should be. Jonderill led the way forwards
towards the cottage door but when he turned around, expecting his new friend to
be close behind him, Perguine was nowhere to be found. Jonderill frowned but continued
on his own, pulling out his axe just in case there was someone or something in
the cottage which shouldn’t be there. For a moment he hesitated at the cottage
door and then threw it wide open ready to defend himself with his woodsman’s axe
if someone attacked him but the cottage was deserted. He stepped over the
threshold and took in the scene of shattered furniture and broken stone which
looked out of place in the comfortable living room where he’d spent so many
evenings in the peaceful company of Rosera and the two magicians.

"I'm assumin' yer didn't leave the place like
this?" asked Perguine, suddenly appearing from behind Jonderill and making
him jump. He shook his head in reply. "Then I guess there's been a barney
and not too long ago by the looks of it." He walked passed Jonderill,
kicking bits of broken furniture out of the way and picking his way amongst the
debris. "I saw some 'orse prints outside an' lots of uver prints but I
couldn'a make out what they were ‘cept they weren’t ‘uman."

Something red caught his eye and he stopped to pick up
the hunting hat, decorated with long coolly bird feathers. "Yours?"

"No."

"The magicians’ then?"

"Definitely not."

"Then it's got ter belong ter the attacked or the
attacker, like this 'as." Perguine picked up a piece of the broken sword.

"I think it must have been the attacked,"
said Jonderill. "And this looks like it was the attacker."

Perguine leaned over Jonderill's shoulder where he had
crouched down to gather enough shattered stones pieces together to make a rough
reconstruction of a snouted head with tusks and horns.

"Yer not tryin' to tell me that thing lived are
yer?" Jonderill nodded. "It's bloody 'orrible."

"And it wasn't on its own. This one had its head
smashed and another one lost an arm. I guess from the number of footprints
outside that there were lots more of them. Whatever they were, they came in
force."

"So this 'ere man wiv a red 'at an' a fine sword,
comes 'ere to see the woman 'e loves an' these things jump 'im an' carries ‘im
off wivout spillin' a drop of blood? Soun’s a bit unlikely ta me."

"No, I’m right. You see, this place is enchanted
so that no one should be able to find it unless they have been invited here.
Plantagenet and Animus never left the cottage and I’ve invited no one here
except you so it must have been someone the Princess met in the forest. These
things must have found out about him and so they came here and captured him. I
bet they’re holding him prisoner somewhere so he never has the chance to give
the princess her true love's first kiss."

"Well, now we finks we knows what's 'appened all
we got to do is work out who's got 'im an' where."

"That's simple," said Jonderill confidently.
"I've seen these creatures before or something very like them; they belong
to Maladran the black. I bet our mysterious friend is being held as a prisoner
in the magician's tower, so all we have to do now is go in there and get him out.

“Why aint I cheerin’,” muttered Perguine to himself as
he followed Jonderill out of the door.

~
   
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"What
do yer know about this 'ere tower?" asked Perguine, breaking the long
silence between them. "I mean, 'as yer ever been there?"

They were walking through Leersland's northern forest
having crossed the Blue River the day before. Leersland's forest was identical
to Vinmore's and if it hadn’t been for the Blue River, which separated them, it
would have been impossible to tell where one kingdom ended and the other began.
Weiswald trees grew tall and massive, their open canopy allowing sunlight to
penetrate through to the forest floor so that the ground was dry underfoot and
leaves rustled crisply as they passed. A sprinkling of everleaf stood straight
and almost as tall as the leaf-shedding giants, ensuring a green tinge to the
forest even in winter. Now they looked dowdy next to the brightly coloured
leaves which turned orange as they caught the early morning sun.

"Yes, I know the tower; it’s not far from Tarmin
and stands on the crest of a fair sized rise with grassy banks and a commanding
view for miles around."

"Not the sort of place yer can creep up on an'
attack wiv an army then?"

"No. The tower is five stories high and Maladran
has his room at the very top. If he's keeping watch he'll see us coming
whatever we do. Why do you ask?"

"Nothin’, jus' like to know what I'm lettin'
meself in fer."

Perguine returned to his usual silent contemplation
and Jonderill gave him one or two suspicious glances before he decided he would
get nothing more from the secretive thief. He kicked irritably at the leaves
beneath his feet, annoyed that his travelling partner had once again created
more questions than he’d answered. It had been the same throughout their
journey, always asking questions but never giving a direct answer to anything
Jonderill asked. The thief hadn’t even answered when Jonderill asked why he was
going to Maladran's tower with him.

He was curious about that; it wasn’t as if Perguine
had any real reason to go there or to even want the giant honeyvine hedge to be
removed. On the other hand he was glad to have Perguine travelling with him.
The little man was an excellent hunter and each day when he disappeared he
always returned with a long eared hopper or a brace of coolly birds for
Jonderill to prepare and cook. He was sure that if he had been by himself he
would have gone hungry for most of the time.

"Is this 'ere Maladran goin' to keep 'is prisoner
up in the tower wiv 'im or 'as 'e got dungeons like?"

More questions thought Jonderill. "No, he’ll hold
him in the caverns below the tower where he does his work as Sarrat's soul
searcher." Jonderill gave an involuntary shudder at the thought of the
caverns. He’d never been down there but he knew of them and their fearful
reputation.

"Nasty," commented Perguine. "I don't
s'pose yer've got a plan to get 'im out 'ave yer?"

"Not yet but I'm working on it."

Perguine looked thoughtfully up at the sky. "Well
yer jus’ keep on thinkin' about it an' I'll goes an' sees what I can find fer
our dinner."

Before Jonderill could offer a word of caution the
little man had gone, disappearing into the forest without leaving a sign of his
passing. It was almost as if he were part of the forest Jonderill thought but
the brief history Perguine had given him of his past life was all to do with
towns and cities and nothing to do with the woodlands. Then there was the
question of his strange name, Perguine the Pocket. Such a name must refer to
the large hidden pockets in his over sized jerkin and baggy trousers which
always seemed to contain something useful, although where it all came from he
hadn't dared to ask, but he could guess.

Now, however, that was unimportant, what did matter
was how he was going to rescue the Princess, fast asleep in the palace with all
her loved ones and a whole city around her. First of all there was the
enchantment to break and for that he would need the man Maladran held in his
dungeons. Then there was that huge honeyvine hedge to cut through and what if
Maladran had put his own defensive spell around the place to keep people out?
If everything people said about Maladran were true there would be something dire
waiting to be set free by anyone foolish enough to enter the tower uninvited.

He’d no idea what that was likely to be or how was he
going to cope with whatever it was. The problem was immense, surely too much
for one man armed only with an ancient iron sword and hardly enough arcane
power to light a fire. Still, he thought, what was it Animus always said about
big problems which seemed unsolvable? Tackle them like you would a banquet. Cut
it up into small pieces and devour each small piece a bit at a time and soon
the whole table will be empty. Jonderill smiled at the thought of his master
and wondered if he would be feeling hungry in his sleep.

For the rest of the day Jonderill walked alone through
the forest towards his destination, stopping at noon by a small stream and
lighting a fire with just enough twigs to make some herb tea. He ate the few
berries and nuts he’d collected on his way and a cold coolly bird leg saved
from last night's meal. It wasn’t very filling but it would keep him going
until Perguine caught up with him, hopefully with the day's catch. The forest
was silent all around him and he supposed the animals and sky flyers had all
gone after being alarmed by his rustling through the leaves on the forest
floor. Once he thought he had heard the high-pitched challenge of an angry horse
and had stopped to listen but after a few moments everything settled down again
and the forest returned to its usual quiet.

As the sun set and darkness fell it became difficult
to follow the pathway through the woodlands so he stopped and made camp in a
small clearing. He collected wood for the fire, leaves for the beds and water
from the stream and then waited for Perguine. After a while he lit the fire and
made some herb tea but by the time the moon had risen over the tops of the
trees the small hunter still hadn’t arrived so Jonderill stoically settled down
with an empty stomach, which rumbled uncomfortably.

He’d been a fool to rely so much on a man who he
didn’t know well. He supposed Perguine had finally come to his senses and
decided that the rescue of a complete stranger from the horrors of a mad
magician's dungeon was more excitement than he needed. Jonderill could
understand how he felt but he had to go on if he wanted to rescue the Princess
so he curled up in his cloak, pulled the leaves he had gathered for Perguine’s
bed over him and was mercifully asleep in moments.

Hunger woke him with the first light of dawn and with
nothing to cook except the last of his herb tea he was back on the pathway
before the sun had touched the green canopy. As he walked he ate what nuts and
berries he could find, although it was the wrong time of year for them to be
plentiful. He also gathered a few wild mushrooms and onion root which would
provide him with a tasty, if thin soup, later in the day. The idea of setting
some snares crossed his mind but as he would have to wait at least until dark
for any results he decided against it.

Tonight he would be at his destination and having meat
in his soup would be unimportant. Around noon, when the sun was high in the sky,
he stopped to drink from a stream and had the strangest feeling that someone
was watching him although he could see no one hiding in the trees. When he
continued on his way he listened carefully to the muted sounds around him and twice
more he was certain he heard footfalls but when he turned around there was no
one there. He cursed himself for being a nervous fool and after that hummed or
whistled to take his mind off whom or what might be following him.

Then, just before sunset when his stomach was starting
to complain loudly at the lack of food, he picked up the wonderful smell on the
slight breeze. It was faint at first and intermittent and then stronger and
more alluring. He knew he should be cautious but he couldn’t help quickening
his pace, his stomach rumbling and his mouth watering at the promise of roast
meat.

Forgetting caution completely he almost ran into the
clearing just before the trees began to thin at the edge of the forest and
there sat Perguine, with a skewered suckling grunter roasting over an open
fire. He looked up and grinned at Jonderill in his sly, discomforting way and
held out a large flask of sweet berry wine.

"Yer a little bit early, I guessed it would take
yer 'till sundown to get 'ere so the grub's not done yet, won't be long
though."

Jonderill stared at him with his hands on his hips not
sure whether he should feel pleased or put out by Perguine's sudden but belated
appearance. He was grateful for the wine and the food but as usual there was
something not quite right. Where had the grunter come from, not to mention the
wine? He stared at the wine and then at Perguine and waited for an explanation.

“Don’t yer mind ‘bout that; the owner went to the
privy an’ left it unattended. In any case ‘e can afford ter buy anuver.”

Jonderill wanted to ask if he had stolen the grunter
as well but instead he looked up at the spiralling smoke and scowled.

"It's all right old son, I've 'ad a look an yer
can't see or smell owt at the forest edge. Now 'ows about a nice piece of 'ot
grunter an' you tellin' me 'ow we’re goin' to get into that there tower."

Jonderill couldn't resist the peace offering and took
the proffered skewer of succulent meat pushing his misgivings to one side. He
sat heavily on the stump of a felled tree and told Perguine of his plan whilst the
juices of the meat ran down his fingers. When he finished the skewer he took a
long pull at the flask of sweet red wine and then started on a second skewer,
the fat hot and crisp. With his mood improving by the minute he finished
outlining his plan.

"So that's it," concluded Jonderill, licking
the last of the meat juices from his sticky fingers.

"That there aint much of a plan is it?"
remarked Perguine disparagingly."I suppose not but it was the best I could
come up with. The problem is not so much getting up to the tower without being
seen, the real difficulty is going to be getting inside the tower through
locked doors."

"Yer jus' leave that ter me, I's got a talent for
that sort of thing."

"You're coming with me then?"

"Of course I is. I aint come all this way for
nowt now 'ave I?”

"But why? What's in the tower for you?"

Perguine gave him a sly look. "Let's jus' say
it's me natural curiosity an' leave it at that."

Jonderill gave a sigh of frustration but let the matter
rest as he guessed it was the best answer he was likely to get. He concentrated
on clearing up the camp and fixing the old metal sword into his belt next to
his axe. Perguine was already waiting to go by the time he was ready, standing
with his hand on his hips and looking impatient.

"I knows yer jus' mean to walk up to that there
tower an 'elps yourself to lover boy but what 'appens if 'e's guarded?"

Jonderill shrugged. "I've got this.” He clutched
the hilt of the battered sword.

"That thing's seen better days an' that's fer
sure. Yer ever used it?"

"I used to practise with one like it but I've
never used one against a man before."

"Gawd 'elp us," Perguine said, turning away
from Jonderill and walking towards the edge of the forest.

Jonderill ran to catch him up and together they walked
between the widely spaced trees for what seemed to be an age. He thought that
the forest would never end and an uneasy feeling nagged at his mind telling him
that the woodland had never encroached so closely up to Maladran's tower
before. When he was about to say as much to his silent companion they emerged
from the forest in the last minutes of daylight.
 
Jonderill gave a cry of shock, stopped dead
and staggered back against the supporting trunk of a large everleaf, unable to
believe what he saw. Perguine looked at the tower and then back at Jonderill, a
sour look on his face.

"It's changed," whispered Jonderill through
his shock.

"Yer tellin' me. What 'appened to the grassy bank
an' the garden wiv the 'edge 'round it? The blasted place looks more like a
fortress than the ‘appy ‘ome of yer magician friend."

"It's Maladran. Somehow his magic must have
corrupted the place. What sort of powers must he be calling on to do this
terrible thing to the land?"

Jonderill continued to stare at the place which had
once been his home. The grassy bank on which he’d sat and first produced
elemental fire was gone, replaced by jagged black rock, barren of all life and
reaching up to the pinnacle on which the ancient tower perched. Gone were the
leafy vines which crept up the tower to soften its outline. Instead the tower
stood out starkly against the evening sky, a twisted column of tortured stone
battered and scarred by hideous carvings of fanged demons. The tower was black
and brooding and looked to be deserted, apart from the flickering light which
shone dimly from the highest window.

"'Spect it's the same power which brought those
stone critters to life, an' that aint a good fing fer us or yer plan."
Jonderill didn't reply but continued to stare at the jagged black rock which
surrounded the menacing tower. "'Ow many of those stone critters does yer
magician 'ave?"