The Snowy Tower (14 page)

There was not much else to discuss, so they bowed to all the chieftains and set off to Wilf’s dome to talk, plan and sleep. Leila stayed up late
preparing clothes, rugs and food. In the morning she kitted them out with white camouflage furs, snow shoes, warm fur gloves, packs of food and rugs. Each child was given a tightly fitting woollen cap of bright red and blue to wear under their white hoods.

‘The mountain tribe folk wear white furs for hunting expeditions, when we want to move invisibly through the snows,’ Wilf explained. ‘At other times, we wear brightly coloured garments so we are easy to find in the snow if we get lost or fall into a crevasse.’

Wilf found white leather socks for the two dogs to protect their paws from the cold and give them more traction in the snow. Then he dressed the dogs in white jackets that tied around their necks and bellies. Aisha shook herself in disgust, unaccustomed to the strange sensation of wearing clothes.

‘Jonte always wears these when we go on long expeditions,’ Wilf said. ‘They will be a bit big for Aisha, but I’ll lace them up tightly.’

The children packed their own belongings into the saddle bags and prepared the horses for their journey south. Charcoal was disgusted to be packed up in her wicker basket and strapped onto Mischief’s back for the journey south. Even Lily
agreed that it was best to leave Charcoal behind – the mountain was no place for a black and white cat.

In the empty taproom of the White Horse Inn, Cookie, Albert and Fox were having a hurried conversation. Mia sat on the table, meticulously eating slices of dried golden pear with her wrinkled fingers.

‘The Sedah priests have arrived from the north,’ Cookie whispered. ‘Lord Lazlac has given orders for the final preparations for the wedding and coronation ceremonies, and I am flat out preparing the feast. He wants twenty different courses!’

Albert drummed his fingers on the table.

‘We can’t wait any longer,’ Albert exclaimed. ‘We must start bringing the rebels closer to Tira. My sources tell me that the rebels are training quite well now, although they are short of weapons. Most of them are farmers and fisherfolk who have never held a sword or a bow in their lives. They are probably no match for the experienced Sedah soldiers, but if we have surprise on our side …’

‘The queen is adamant that she does not want a
rebel attack while the Sedahs hold Prince Caspar,’ Cookie argued. ‘She told me to remind you that you and all the rebel forces are still under her command, and she orders you to obey her.’

Fox shrugged impatiently. He was not used to taking orders from anyone else. Mia gibbered and chatted her contribution, waving her sticky brown paws.

‘While the queen orders us not to attack, there is no harm in preparing for it,’ Fox retorted, stroking Mia’s head. ‘If, by some miracle, the children find Prince Caspar and bring him back to Tira, we must be ready.’

Albert nodded. ‘Perhaps it would be best, Fox, if you went to the rebel camp and supervised the final training,’ he suggested. ‘I know of no better person to advise them on fighting and stealth strategies.’

Fox laughed in acknowledgement. As a smuggler he was an excellent swordsman and archer, as well as an expert in travelling secretly.

‘Happily,’ Fox agreed. ‘I’m growing tired of plotting and planning with you, Albert. It’d be good to have a sword in my hand once more.’

‘We can bring the rebel forces to the forests closer to Tira, just in case,’ Albert decided, ignoring Fox’s jibe. ‘I will brief my spy network so everything is
ready. Cookie – you must reassure the queen we are doing all we can, but that we will not attack while Prince Caspar is in danger.’

Cookie nodded, her round face crinkled with worry.

‘Let’s get moving, then,’ suggested Fox, scooping Mia up onto his shoulder and buckling on his sword.

Cookie and Albert rose too, their minds whirring with plans and lists of things to do. The forced royal wedding was looming perilously close.

When the laden horses had been led away, the five children donned their snow shoes and set off to trek up into the mountains, guided by Wilf and Jonte. The ascent was long, steep and tiring. Even with the snow shoes, they slipped and skidded and slid, falling frequently.

At first, they enjoyed the ascent, watching the landscape, the birds, the tiny animals venturing out into the icy white world. Deep footprints in the snow gave them clues to the creatures living in the snow lands – tiny claw marks, gentle scuffs, and large dangerous-looking pawprints of wolves.

As the morning wore on, tiredness set in and the
muscles began to flag. In the middle of the day – when they were only halfway up the mountain – the sun softened the snow, making it even harder to climb. They each took it in turn to drag the two toboggans, the sleds leaving deep tracks in the snow.

‘Let’s hope our friend Sniffer isn’t following us,’ Ethan joked. ‘He’d have no trouble following our trail.’

‘Don’t,’ shivered Lily, glancing back over her shoulder at the deep tracks behind them. ‘Let’s hope Sniffer is far behind us.’

Slowly, gradually, the ascent began to be a trial of muscles, willpower, breath and exhaustion. Progress was made in millimetres. Wilf alone was used to climbing in the snow. He cajoled them forward with merry tales, songs and words of encouragement. Rest breaks were required more and more frequently.

Aisha and Jonte struggled in the snow with no snow shoes. Their thin, wiry legs sank deep in the snow, tiring them with the effort of climbing higher up the steep slope. Wilf began to worry about the many dangers of the mountain – snow trolls, avalanches, crevasses, snow giants, and the black crows who awaited them at the tower.

As the children clambered along a narrow game track, Roana slipped and slid off the track on her side, her body hurtling down the steep slope at startling speed. Roana screamed loudly, then fell over the lip of a cliff three metres below, down and out of sight. The scream was cut horribly, frighteningly short.

‘Roana,’ screamed Lily. ‘Roana.’

The silence was eerie.

‘Roana,’ yelled Ethan. ‘Are you all right?’

There was no reply. Aisha barked a warning out over the valley. It echoed into the silence. Wilf pulled out a rope from his toboggan and unwound it. He tied one end of the rope to a gnarled dead tree root protruding from the bank, and the other to his waist. Saxon went to help him, double testing the knots.

‘I’ll climb down to the top of the cliff to see what I can see,’ Wilf stated calmly.

‘Roana,’ shouted Lily, her heart plummeting to the valley floor. ‘Where are you?’

A faint groan sounded from below the cliff top.

‘I heard her,’ cried Ethan, scrambling to the edge.

Together Ethan, Saxon and Lily lowered Wilf down over the cliff edge.

‘I see her,’ Wilf called back. ‘She is only a few
metres below me, caught on a branch buried in snow. Roana, can you hear me?’

‘I am all right,’ she muttered, clinging desperately to her slender life-saver. Below her the sheer cliff dropped over thirty metres, a certain death.

Wilf was slowly lowered down to the tree branch on the rope. Here he gingerly wedged himself on the stronger tree trunk so he did not snap the delicate-looking branch with his weight. He untied the rope from his own waist and knotted it around Roana’s. Now they could both give a sigh of relief.

‘Heave her up,’ yelled Wilf to the others up on the path. Slowly and carefully Roana was hauled up the cliff face, over the lip, up the slope and back onto the path, where she collapsed heavily on the ground. There was no time to check Roana. The rope was untied and slithered back down the cliff to Wilf, still perched precariously in the tree. In a few moments he was dragged back up the cliff, and they were all safe once more on the path, scared and shaken.

After that Wilf made sure all the children were securely tied together with a long rope. He even tied Aisha and Jonte’s collars on separate ropes, knotted to the main rope.

The sun began to set in a blaze of golds, pinks and violets, firing the snow with colour.

‘We should make a camp for the night,’ Wilf instructed. ‘I had hoped to reach the summit by dusk, but we were slower than I anticipated. We will just have to camp here below this ridge, which might give us a little protection.’

Wilf directed operations, sending the girls to collect firewood, still tied together with ropes around their waists, while the boys set up the round white felt dome that Wilf had brought on the toboggan. It was securely fastened with long iron pegs that reached down through the snow to the hard earth below. An overlapping flap protected the entrance to the tent.

Soon they had a cosy shelter. The flames of the small fire burned merrily, dispelling the enormity of that huge mountainside. The children dined on biscuits and water, which they shared with the two dogs. Jonte looked crestfallen at this meagre meal.

‘You know there are sea shells on the summit of these mountains,’ Wilf said. ‘You can find them in high summer. Once upon a time these mountains were at the bottom of the sea. The legend is that the snow giants battled and fought so long and hard that the very ground shook and heaved, until it bulged into a huge mountain range, which would forever be covered in snow.’

Looking out at the lonely mountain, it was hard to imagine it had once been under the sea. It was much easier to imagine snow giants rampaging over the land than fish and whales swimming over it. They shivered together in a huddle of dogs and children and rugs and furs, trying to keep warm and sleep.

In the middle of the night, Ethan was woken by a sniffing sound. He sat straight upright, his heart in his mouth. Something brushed against the side of the soft felt dome, bulging the side inwards. Ethan did not dare to breathe.

Saxon woke too as a warm body brushed past his on the outside of the tent. He moved away hurriedly to the centre where Lily and Roana slept, waking them with his sudden movement. Soon all five, with Jonte and Aisha, were sitting upright, listening to the sounds of the body moving around and around their tent.

They could feel warm breath brushing the outside of the felt. They could hear deep rhythmic breathing and the odd snuffle of a scent drawn deep into the lungs. There was a soft crunching of the icy snow outside and a gentle brushing of body or bodies on felt.

A loud bellowing roar froze their hearts and sank
their stomachs. The five children huddled together in the centre of the dome, as far from the rounded sides as they could manage. Aisha shivered and cuddled closer, with Jonte beside her, his eyes wide and ears pricked. Wilf and Ethan kept their hands on the dogs’ necks to keep them still.

Wilf listened carefully, analysing the movement and sound.

‘It’s not wolves,’ he whispered. ‘It could be snow lions. Don’t move. Don’t make a noise. If we stay still they won’t breach the dome.’

The children stayed frozen – their ears keen, their eyes trying to pierce through the gloom, their hearts pounding and tongues dry. There was a frenzied tearing noise outside the flap. The creatures sounded as though they were bickering over something.

The creatures circled and sniffed and squabbled for what seemed like hours. Lily’s head lolled in exhaustion. Aisha relaxed and went to sleep. Ethan and Saxon started to rock precariously in their fatigue. Roana breathed deeply and quickly, her hand fiddling incessantly with her amethyst locket. Wilf alone sat still and upright, his eyes following the vague shadows on the dome wall. At last the bodies seemed to go away and the noise stilled.

‘Thank the Moon Goddess,’ moaned Roana, collapsing flat on her back. ‘I thought they would stay all nigh–’

A loud roar rent the darkness. A heavy paw struck the tent, its claws scratching fine tears in the felt. Aisha woke immediately, barking furiously. She ran to the dome flap, her hackles and one paw raised. Jonte rose beside her, echoing her bark and stance. Lily smothered a shriek, stuffing her fists to her mouth.

Another paw struck the dome, sending it shuddering to one side.

‘We are discovered,’ whispered Wilf furiously, drawing his dagger. He rose to a crouch and crept to the flap, warning the dogs to stay quiet. Ethan rose behind him, carefully stringing his bow and nocking an arrow. As Wilf drew back the flap, the dogs surged forward, their noses twitching and their ears pricked. At the dome entrance Wilf stepped over a mangled mass of skin and cold liquid.

Roana slid back the glass shade and lit the lantern with the tinderbox, warming the dome with a cozy red glow. The four children all reluctantly followed Wilf out into the snow.

‘My water bottle,’ Lily whispered, glancing at the remains of her torn leather flask.

‘The snow lions,’ breathed Ethan, staring mesmerised at the shadowy beasts lurking just beyond the range of the lantern light. A deep snarl reverberated, along with the menacing swipe of a lashing tail. There were two lions – a male and a female. The male had a massive ruff of shaggy white fur, framing his broad face and tawny eyes. The female was a slighter build, her fur thick and white, without a mane. The two animals stared inquisitively at the children, their tails lashing slowly. The male shook his mane, ruffling it to full size, and crouched large and menacing, ready to pounce. The female moved forward slowly and cautiously.

‘Whatever happens, don’t run,’ warned Wilf quietly, clutching his dagger tightly. ‘They may rush us, but they shouldn’t attack if we stay firm.’

‘You said they would not breach the dome,’ whispered Roana fiercely.

‘I told you not to move,’ retorted Wilf over his shoulder. The tail lashed more violently. Roana stepped back hurriedly. ‘Don’t move!’ reiterated Wilf urgently.

The female bounded forward, tawny eyes glowing and white fur shimmering indistinctly against the snow. Roana breathed deeply in fear, but
did not move. Aisha bounded forward in retaliation, barking deeply in her throat. The feline shadow paused, then glissaded through the air, roaring in return. Aisha leapt forward then feinted back, narrowly missing a razor-sharp claw. Jonte followed, barking and feinting. The shadow paused, confused by this sudden onslaught. She lashed out viciously at Aisha, claws extended, ready to kill. Aisha leapt back daintily. Ethan’s heart pounded, seeing how close the claws had come to his beloved dog. He pulled back the string on his bow and took aim, fear fighting his admiration for this formidable yet magnificent enemy.

The two snow lions registered the two fierce dogs, and the crowd of humans armed and determined, and stopped. The two shadows snuffled the wind, turned and evaporated into the darkness. The children slumped with relief.

‘They’re gone,’ announced Wilf, dropping his dagger to his side.

‘Good girl, Aisha,’ grinned Lily, patting Aisha’s head vigorously. ‘You were so brave.’

‘You too, Jonte,’ agreed Roana, rubbing Jonte between the ears.

‘Let’s get some sleep,’ added Ethan. ‘This has been far too much action for one night.’

They all returned to the dome, now slightly lopsided and a little torn on one side, and were soon fast asleep. At sunrise the next morning, they stirred and broke camp, eager to reach the tower.

When they looked out, they realised that the summit of the mountain was surrounded by a sea of cloud. The sun shone down above the clouds, bathing the peak in gold and pink, and shimmering on the seething, mist below. It was an eerie outlook, as though the world below the mist had completely disappeared, leaving them alone in a tiny white world shrunk to the size of the jagged mountain peak. Golden eagles wheeled above their heads searching for prey. One dived suddenly, spiralling down, plummeting to earth, then slowly rose, struggling with the weight of some hapless prey.

Within an hour they had reached the summit. From above they could see the Tower of Snows, or the Tower of Sun and Moon, tucked just below the summit on the south-eastern side.

‘Now we have to move carefully,’ Wilf ordered. ‘They are unlikely to be watching the eastern summit but, just in case, we need to be completely silent and hidden. We will watch the tower from here, then move gradually downhill. We will keep watching the tower in case we can learn anything.’

The other children nodded. The tower below was a magnificent building. It was not just one tower, but a rectangular building with several turreted roofs, crowned by a taller main bell tower in the centre. It was really a small castle, fortified by the treacherous terrain and the snows that guarded the tower for half the year. Looking below, there was no sign of the spring thaw that was apparent further down the valley. The snow looked ready to stay for months.

Well beneath the tower they could see the glistening grey of the frozen lake, spreading across the valley floor. The children clambered down slowly and silently, until they came to a small copse of trees behind the tower. In their white furs, hoods and gloves, they melted into the snowy background. Here they sat and waited silently, one hand on the dogs’ backs to stop them from moving or barking.

The tower stood silent and forlorn, with deep snow drifts banked up about its base. The main entrance faced down to the valley, but at the rear of the tower were a couple of small doors. One of these had a smudge of footprints leading from the tower to an outbuilding set back against the mountainside.

They watched and waited for about half an hour.

‘We should go and check it out,’ suggested Ethan, in a low whisper. ‘Saxon and I can go while you three stay here with the dogs.’

There was some whispered disagreement as to who should go and who should stay, but Ethan insisted that Roana should stay safely in the copse until they had assessed the situation, and Wilf needed to keep Jonte out of sight with Aisha and Lily.

Saxon and Ethan crept from their hiding place, keeping the white fur hoods pulled low over their faces. They checked the tower’s back door, which was securely locked. Next they examined the outbuilding. This was unlocked and seemed to be a combined storehouse and barn. There was a coop for chickens and stalls where animals had recently been kept. Ethan guessed this was where the donkeys they had seen the priests riding had been stabled. There were bales of hay and sacks of grain, and a couple of toboggans hanging on the wall.