The Palace Library (14 page)

There was no drum in the little
gig to count the measure of the oars, but the Captain sat by the tiller and
acted as his own coxswain.  “One, two… one, two,” he muttered to set the
pace, but these were the most experienced of the sailors and that was
enough.  It was a gentle pace and the boat was infinitely more manageable
than the great flagship, The Saint George.  Harry knelt in the bow. 
This time, he was not looking for rocks.  There was a sailor with that
duty lying next to him.  He was looking for the dragons’ lair, eyes
searching from side to side, carefully seeking out any signs.  Once again,
he was cross with himself for leaving the binoculars behind, and swore that he
would always keep them in his coat pocket when he got back home.  If he
got back home.

The
afternoon wore on and they reached the northernmost point of the channel
between the two islands then turned back again.  Nothing.  No caves,
no smoke, no dragons.  Surely they were in the right place?  They
rounded the point on the last stretch back towards the beach.

Suddenly
there was a fierce clash, metal upon metal.  Harry stood up and listened.

Clang,
clang, clang!  Clang, clang, clang! Clang, clang, clang!  Then it
stopped.

“Is
that a sword fight I hear?” muttered the Captain to himself.  Then loudly
to his sailors, “Keep steady.”

Then
it started again.

Clang,
clang, clang!  Clang, clang, clang!

“It’s
Edwin,” said Harry with a smile and relief in his words.  “
Hell’s Bay
will sound with clashing tones
, he quoted.  It’s not a fight, but the
Sword being made.”

Then
he suddenly stared into the steep cliff, the one he had stared at so carefully
on the way out.  “Here!  Turn towards the cliff.”  There was a
tiny gap just above the sea level.  “It’s a cave.” 

The
Captain directed the gig towards the cliff.

“Stop!” 
This time the sailors backed their oars at the shout, and Harry fell back down
with a thump.  It was the sailor looking out for rocks who had shouted,
“There be rocks.  We’ll have to go to the port, then starboard then port
again to be clear.”  So they zigzagged their way across to the cliff.

“
Beware
the direct route
,” said Harry to no one in particular. “This must be it.”

As
they approached the cave, slowly, gently, the opening got bigger and bigger.

“Easy
oars,” was the command this time and the sailors just lifted their oars out of
the water.  As they move slowly towards the entrance there was just room
for the boat to glide inwards towards the gloom.

Harry
clambered back and sat next to the Captain.  “Surely this is a magical
cave, the way the entrance got bigger as we got closer.”

The
Captain smiled.  “Magical it may be, Harry.  But ‘tis the tide that
makes the cave bigger.  The level of the sea is dropping and later tonight
this entrance will be hidden again.”

Harry
kicked himself for being so foolish, and was glad the Captain had not teased
him about it, but there was no time to worry about that.

Inside
was bigger, much, much bigger, with a high ceiling arching way above the water.
 They should have been in darkness.  Yet within was a luminous glow
that lit a grand cavern.  Two channels of lava slowly fed their molten
rock into the sea either side of them, but there was more to the glow than even
that.  Two or three hundred yards beyond they could see sleeping dragons
on the rocks, motionless, but snoring.  As they snored little trickles of
flame flew out of their mouths, creating more light within.

The
light might have been pretty, but the smell was not.  If you imagine a
kennel without a window full of dogs, all with bad breath, combined with the
smell of a hundred dead and rotting rats, then this was all that and much
worse.  Much, much worse. “Putrid.” said Harry to himself.  “Now I
know what it means.”  He thought it was just about possible that Dragons’
Bane smelt better than this.

The
sailors themselves were almost paralysed with fear, but the Captain steadied
them with a whisper and discipline stayed firm. The Captain said to
Harry.  “Remember now, this is no time for heroics.  For now we’re
here to look.”

At
that moment, the largest dragon seemed to open one eye and stare directly at
them.  An extra large jet of flame blew out of his nostrils and they saw
clearly where he was lying.  He was perched on a rock in the centre of the
cavern, but this was no ordinary rock.  This was a rock made of gold and
silver and gemstones.  It glittered brilliantly and threw patterns across
the wall.  The crew of the boat sat motionless, mesmerised by the single
eye of the dragon, convinced that soon they would be burnt to a cinder and torn
into pieces when it woke.

The
dragon lifted a paw and scratched its nose.  Then the eye shut and the
flames subsided.  The dragon had not seen them.  It was still
sleeping.

Quietly
and quickly, the Captain gave the command to row and the boat turned back into
the sunlight and they went back to the beach.   They were all
delighted their trip to the dragons’ lair was over and they all hoped they
would not have to go back.  Except Harry.  He knew he had to go back.
 And the oily stone would be under the largest dragon on the little island
made of treasure.

As
they returned to the beach, they saw the girls waiting with great mounds of
purple flowers.  The sun was dipping down in the west and they could see
Edwin silhouetted with his hands in the air.  Harry could not quite make
out why.  Then as they came closer, he realised.  Edwin was holding
up the new Sword. Its point was resting on the ashen beach.  His hands
were on the hilt, but since it was much taller than him, his hands were above
his head.

“The
Sword is forged,” said Edwin once they were on the beach.  It was tall
with a wide flat blade and simple metal hilt and hand guard. “The blade needs
sharpening and finishing.  Its power will be complete only when the
diamond is fitted here.”  He pointed to a delicate iron cage at the top of
the hilt.  “Later, I’ll add ornate work in gold so that it looks special
at ceremonies. But once the stone is fitted, it should have all the power of
Ascalon.  For now, we must return to the ship before darkness descends and
the dragons awake.  You have taken your time!”

Later,
the ship was shrouded in darkness and the men aboard were given orders to be
silent for fear of rousing the dragons.  There was little risk of those
orders being broken.  Inside the chart room, Ascalon, re-forged, sat on
the table and the green light of the blade glowed within.  The Captain,
the children, Edwin and Eloise sat round in council, making plans for the next
day.

Harry
described the dragons’ lair and what they had seen.  “I don’t want to go
back there, but I must.  It stinks, it’s dark and the dragons look more
evil than I could have imagined. The dragons were asleep, but it seems clear
they’re easily disturbed.  We will definitely need the Dragons’ Bane,
Eleanor.”

“We
started to experiment on the beach,” replied Eleanor.  “We dried some out
in the heat of the lava, and then set fire to it.  It certainly burnt and
there was a terrible smell, but it burnt so quickly.  I don’t know how to
keep it burning for the time you need to row and get the diamond.”

“Time,”
added the Captain, “is something you don’t have.  We only spotted the cave
as the tide was going out late in the afternoon.  The cave won’t be
uncovered until the afternoon.  Today, we only went to the entrance and
returned to the ship just in time for darkness to fall.  Tomorrow you’ll
have less than an hour.  You’ll need to be swift.”

With
a grim reality, Edwin added, “If we survive the night with the dragons
awake.  Each hour of the darkness will be more dangerous than the one
before.”

Harry
opened his book and kept asking it questions whilst the others talked through
what they would need the next day.  Harry’s book just kept writing out the
Prophecy again and again.  He slammed it shut.

“Impatience
won’t help you, Harry.  The book’s meant to help you.  Read out the
Prophecy again.  Aloud, so we all may hear,” Edwin commanded.

So
Harry did.  And they sat silently, wondering about its cryptic
words.  All of them, that is, except Edwin, who fumbled around under his
leather apron to find something.  When he had found it, he placed it on the
table.  “This is one thing that will help.”

It
was his pipe.  Harry petulantly said, “Smoking that may help you relax,
but I don’t know what good it will do us!”

“Think
again, Harry” said Edwin.  Harry felt he was being put down
unreasonably.  After all, it was he who would have to face the danger.

Eleanor
worked it out as well and came to Harry’s rescue. “Of course!  You’ll have
to smoke it!”

“Oh,”
said Harry.  “I see.”  Then so did Grace.

“Will
someone explain?” asked the Captain, who had never seen a pipe before and had
no idea what this object was.

“Show
him,” answered Harry.  So Edwin lit the pipe and puffed away.  Then
he drew in the smoke and blew it towards the Captain, who spluttered.

“You
see,” said Harry. 
“By breathing out the vapoured air.”

The
Captain looked in amazement.  “You do that by choice?” he asked, but Edwin
ignored him.

He
passed the pipe across to Harry, “I think you’d better practice young Harry,
otherwise it is you who will be spluttering to wake the dragons - and Dragons’
Bane won’t be nearly as sweet as these herbs.”  So Harry puffed and
choked, and puffed and choked, and eventually got the hang of holding enough
smoke to breathe it out, before turning green, feeling sick and saying, “I
never, ever want to smoke again.”

“Very
wise,” muttered the Captain.

While
he did that, the others went through the plans until Grace suddenly said, “I’ve
been thinking about why the dragon couldn’t see you with the eye he
opened.  That eye must be blind. 
Beware the direct route
isn’t about zigzagging to miss the rocks.  It means go towards the
dragon’s blind side.  And
wear another’s suit
isn’t about that
hairy tweed suit Horrible Hair Bun made you wear at all.  I know what you
have to do.”  So Grace explained it.  Then the Captain told them to
go to bed and get some sleep.  There was work to be done in the morning.

The
worry should have kept them all awake, but all the exercise and energy spent
during the day meant the girls soon dozed off.  Harry was less
fortunate.  It must have been two in the morning when he heard the noise.

“Help
me!  I can’t hold on.”  It was Eleanor’s voice.  He rushed into
the girls’ room with Edwin close behind him holding an axe, but it was put down
quickly.  Eleanor was having a nightmare and Eloise was gently stroking
her head.  The screams changed into gibberish and she seemed to go to
sleep again.  Then quite suddenly, she sat up with her eyes wide open and
shouted, “We must be rid of her!  It is our duty to King Louis of
France!  Let her go.”  But she was still asleep and collapsed
back.  With those words, Eloise had shrunk back.  But no one noticed,
for both Grace and Harry were tucking Eleanor back into her cot.  Harry
said, “Mummy always says not to wake her when she dreams.  It will be fine
in the morning, I hope.”

“We
must discover what that means,” said Edwin.  “Where can she have had that
idea or heard those words?  And why hasn’t she mentioned it before? 
King Louis of France is England’s worst enemy.  Treachery is near and we
must watch our backs!”  Only at the last moment did Edwin stop himself
from thumping the side of the cot, realising what a noise he might make. 
Instead, he smashed his bunched fist into his other hand.

“I’ll
stay here with the girls,” said Edwin.  “Harry, return to the other cabin
and sleep.”   Edwin stayed and watched over them.  Sophie whined
once gently and lay right next to Eleanor’s cot, her eyes moving from Eleanor
to Edwin to Eloise, watching carefully.  Like the others, she was confused
as to where the traitor might be.  Her sixth sense was faulty and since
Guy of Caen had vanished, she too was struggling to think where the traitor
could be found.

Harry
could not sleep, of course.  He thought about the following day and
wondered what on earth Eleanor had meant.  It would have to wait until
morning.

Harry’s ‘suit’ had to be prepared
for his adventure into the dragons’ lair.  It was a brilliant piece of
thinking by Grace, but the carpenters had their work cut out.  They started
before sunrise, just as dawn was breaking with a glimmer of light enabling them
to see what they were doing.  Ropes had been drawn from the stores in the
hold.  Pulleys were set up.  A makeshift crane was established over
the bow.  Finally, everything was in place to move the figurehead from the
bowsprit.  The saw rasped its way backwards and forwards through the old
oak.  The Saint George, the flagship of the King’s fleet, was to lose her
figurehead and instead it was to be fitted to the gig and become a disguise for
Harry.