The Stolen Lake (27 page)

Maybe things'll somehow come right, she thought. Though dear knows how!

Then she curled up on the far side of the heap from Hapiypacha and went back to sleep.

When Dido next woke, it was to see Elen thoughtfully scratching the thick, soft fur between Hapiypacha's ears, and pulling out the loose fluff over his eyebrows, while he purred like the distant rumble of Mount Catelonde.

"It's going to be awkward," Dido remarked, "not letting old Caradog find out how thick you and Happy Pussy have got. Or he might think we'd need another keeper."

But in fact it proved not too difficult. Most of the daytime hours were passed by the old guardian in front of Sul's altar, where he blew or plucked on his various instruments. During the afternoon he went to feed his animals stabled in the valley below, and was absent for a couple of hours, departing through a postern gate in the massive wall, which he locked behind him. At noon and in the evening he fed the girls some more of his bean-and-yucca stew. If Elen chose to come and play the piano in the temple—which she did from time to time—he was happy to desist from his own performances and listen to hers, rapt in a trance of pleasure; sometimes, indeed, after these interludes, it was quite hard to rouse him. Otherwise he paid little attention to his prisoners; they might wander where they chose through the cold, sunny, deserted city, climbing stairs, coming out onto terraces, peering over terrifying drops. As Caradog had said, they were free to fly out if they chose; there appeared to he no other way out.

Everywhere they went, Hapiypacha accompanied them, loping at their heels, or sometimes bounding ahead, leaping up onto some balustrade or rock platform if a merlin or rock dove chanced to alight. Caradog had warned them about aurocs, which, once or twice, they saw planing about the sky with their hideous triangular wings outspread. "But," the guardian said, "so long as Hapiypacha's with you, no auroc's going to come near; they won't tangle with
him.
" Indeed, the great leopard often snarled upward, wrinkling his nose and hissing, when the shadow of an auroc passed over.

Up at the top of the town, beyond the Temple of Sul, there was a round tower, which Dido had noticed on their first arrival. Exploring in this direction, they found that the tower was not a tower at all, but simply a huge rock, the upper part of which had been cut and shaped into a single stone shaft some twenty feet high. At the top of this the familiar face of Sul was carved. Beyond the pillar extended a balustraded terrace from which the whole of Lake Arianrod could be seen. There was now a fair amount of water in the star-shaped basin, and more of the yellow balloons kept arriving.

"They are made of wild silk," Elen said sadly. "Used for irrigation in the highlands. Why doesn't Papa stop sending them? I don't understand it."

Dido was visited by a depressing idea.

"Perhaps old Gomez, when he nabbled us, left a note, as it might be from you or me, saying, 'Don't worry, gone off with Mr. Mully to pick up diamonds in the lake bed,' or summat of the sort."

"Surely Papa would not be so foolish as to believe such a story?"

But no other possible explanation occurred to them.

Most of the balloons came drifting over the shoulder of Mount Catelonde, the heat of which was sufficient to melt the wax on the fastenings and make them discharge their contents into the lake bed. But a small number floated over the crater itself, through the reddish-black column of smoke that came coiling sluggishly from the volcano's open jaws. Then that particular load of water never reached the lake, but fell down into the heart of the volcano, like a teacupful of water dropped into a furnace. And as the furnace sizzles and spits when water is dropped into it, so Mount Catelonde rumbled and hissed and spat out jets of red-hot ash and lava each time this occurred.

"If enough water got spilt into the crater," said Elen thoughtfully, "I shouldn't wonder but what it might start a full-scale eruption."

"What would happen then?"

"It would be like a saucepan boiling over. Only what comes out of a volcano is lava—boiling rock, thick as molasses, rolling down the mountain. Of course, it might just roll down into Lake Arianrod; but if it went down the other side of the mountain—or if there were a big explosion and part of the mountain blew off—it might be dangerous for the city of Bath. Oh,
how
I wonder if Gwydion has got there yet! If he has—if he learns what has happened to us—he will surely come to rescue us!"

"I wouldn't depend on that," Dido said. "Who'd tell him? If you ask me, it's no use expecting other people to help you ... What's that thing down there, d'you suppose?"

A flight of steps led down the steep hillside from the terrace on which they stood. Below, extending outward from the hillside, rather like a diving board, was a narrow natural tongue or spur of rock, perhaps ten feet long and three or four feet wide. Below it, the cliff fell sheer, more than a thousand feet, to the blue waters of Lake Arianrod.

Elen looked down and shivered.

"Can't you guess? That's the Tongue of Sul—where we shall be thrown into the lake. I believe we aren't really thrown—just pushed out along the rock and left to stand there until we fall off. I should think it would not take long—you would soon become giddy on that narrow tip. Some people jump off, I've heard, so as to get it over sooner."

Now it was Dido's turn to shiver.

"Brrr! What a spooky spot. Let's get away from here. I'm sorry I asked—I wouldn't have come thisaway if I'd known. Maybe it's dinner time—the sun's moved quite a bit since we've been here."

But Elen, walking dejectedly after Dido, burst out, "I don't know that I
mind
being thrown into the lake, Dido! I really love Cousin Gwydion. I always have. I can feel it
here
"—she thumped her chest. "If I can't marry him, I might just as
well
be in that lake. Or—or go back to England and teach mathematics! I'm certainly not going to stay in Lyonesse and marry one of those Ccapacs."

"But Elen," said Dido, shocked, "how
can
you marry him? He's married already. And anyway, you've hardly met him—how can you be sure?"

"You forget. I was partly brought up with him. I loved him then. Oh, if only he were just Cousin Gwydion!"

If only, thought Dido sadly, he was just my Mr. Holystone.

Trying to retrace their steps to the Temple of Sul, they became confused among a maze of narrow, cobbled ways, and came out on a dry, dusty shelf above a ravine which was quite narrow—only about ten feet across—but unbelievably deep.

"Watch out, Elen," Dido said anxiously. "Don't go too near that gritty edge."

A mountain hare, sunning itself among a tangle of wild fig and cactus on the far side of the gully, started up and bolted away across the mountainside. To the girls' utter amazement, Hapiypacha cleared the gully in one effortless bound and shot off in pursuit of the hare, going so fast that he seemed to float over the ground. In twenty seconds he had caught it, and he returned with it in his jaws, leaping back over the gully with the same unconcerned ease, before settling down in a patch of shade to demolish his prey in four bites.

"
He's
got his own way out, at all events," Dido said. "Guess the guardian don't know that."

An idea seized her so suddenly that her jaw went stiff and she stammered in her excitement. "Hey—P-P-P-Princess! He—he
likes
you!"

"Who does? What do you mean?"

"Why, old Puss there—" as Hapiypacha, having finished his lunch, came to rub his head against Elen's arm. "D'you reckon you could ride him? Get him to take you out of here?"

"You mean—over
there?
" Elen's eyes went huge with fright. She looked down into the terrifying gully.

"Go on! You said just now you wouldn't mind being thrown into the lake. At least there'd be some
point
to
this!
"

"But—but what about you?" Plainly, though, Elen had begun to consider the idea, instead of just dismissing it.

"Well," Dido, said reasonably, "it'd be no use
my
trying to ride him. He don't like me above half. It's you he's took sich a fancy to. So it's a case of you or nothing, ennit? But he's a right fast goer, our Happy Pussy; if you could get across that gully on him, and ride him over the mountain to Wandesborough, maybe you could give the alarm in time to send somebody and stop old Stone Eyes from dropping me in the lake. Or—or if not—it's better
one
should get away than both of us get polished off. And then—and then—you can tell your cousin Gwydion about Queen Ginevra's goings-on." She had to reiterate this argument a good many times before Elen could be brought to consider it.

But presently, after they had eaten their noon meal and Caradog was away feeding his beasts, Elen did try riding the leopard. At first it was doubtful whether he would sanction the idea at all; he hissed and spat and started away when, nervously tucking up her skirts, she attempted to bestride him. But by the end of the day he was cooperating tolerably well, though he did not look pleased about it; his ears were set back flat against his head and he mewled angrily to himself all the time she was on his back.

"Still, we're a-getting somewhere!" exulted Dido. "Who'd a thought, this morning, that he'd let you ride him so biddably? And it's still two days to the new moon. If you practice all day tomorrow—"

"All day!" shuddered Elen. "If you knew what it was like sitting on his back! There isn't any saddle-hollow—nothing but bony spine all the way along. It's all very well for you—"

She bit her lip and stopped suddenly.

"Don't you worry," said Dido. "Maybe the old boy will be so sore when he finds he's lost you
and
Hapiypacha that he'll be out a-hunting over the mountain, and I'll have a chance to get away too."

Though what could I do? she wondered. Steal a ride back on the silver train? Her private thoughts were not hopeful.

By the evening of the next day Elen was getting on much better with her wayward mount. She had learned that the usual taps or kick used to urge a horse to greater speed only put him in a bad temper, but he would respond very well to coaxing words if she leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

"I reckon
now
's as good a time as any," said Dido, who had discreetly removed Hapiypacha's breakfast of dried guinea pig when the guardian's back was turned, so as to render the leopard extra-hungry by evening. "Let's go up to that gully spot and hope for another hare."

At first they were afraid they were not going to be able to find the place again, as they wandered to and fro in a network of dusty silver-cobbled alleys, with late swallows and mountain falcons wheeling overhead in the last of the sun.

But at last they came out on the edge of the gully, and, as luck would have it, there was another hare, drowsing in exactly the same spot on the other side.

"
Quick,
Elen—before you've got time to get scared—hop on him!" said Dido. Impulsively she gave the other girl a hug. "Go on now—don't be frit! Give my best regards to Mr. Holy if you find him—"

Elen scrambled herself onto Hapiypacha's bony withers. Leaning forward, she took a firm grip of the thick fur on his neck with both hands and whispered, "Go on now, Tomkin—after him!"

The leopard bounded, checked an instant, and then shot away, clearing the ravine with his usual carefree power, landing well over on the other side, despite the rider on his back.

"Grip with your knees!" shouted Dido, as Hapiypacha raced after the hare. "Good luck!"

And then she turned round to find herself staring straight into the indignant face of Caradog.

"You are a very, very wicked child!" he said wrathfully.

"Oh, come on, mister!"

"My sister said you were a troublemaker! She was right!"

"Now listen here—"

"I let you and your companion go free, instead of locking you up, as I should otherwise have done (it is true," he added in parenthesis, "that Sul prefers a healthy, willing sacrifice; or so I have always thought)—and what happens? You act with outrageous deceitfulness and ingratitude—you seize the first opportunity to escape!"

"Well," Dido said reasonably, "what would you have done? Just sat down and waited to be chucked over the cliff?"

"If Sul wished it—yes!"

"Mister," said Dido—by this time the old man had grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and was marching her fiercely back in the direction of the temple, a most uncomfortable progress—"Mister," she said, screwing her neck round to look at him, "has it ever strook you that perhaps it was meant for Elen to escape?"

"Meant? What can you possibly mean?"

"Well, she managed it twice, didn't she? Once we and your High King just happened to be on the spot; and as for this time—well, no one but a noddy woulda left the girl to be guarded by a cat, when I'd a thought the whole population around here might know she dotes on the whole tribe o' cats and them on her—
ouch!
"—for the old man had now taken a firm grip on her ear.

"I wish to hear no more of your irreverent rubbish," he snapped. "Sul needed that girl. Nodens is angry. See how Catelonde burns and sulks—" gesturing across the valley to the volcano, which had just received two water-skins in its hot gullet and was vomiting out a fiery spray of lava.

"But don't you
see,
you old fossil, that's because—oh, well..."

Looking at his angry, implacable old face, Dido decided she might as well save her breath. He was not going to be convinced by anything she said. Instead she asked, "Who's Nodens?"

"He is the husband of Sul. He must be propitiated. Or he may wreak his vengeance on the whole city of Bath."

"If you ask me, the whole city of Bath could just about do with a tidy-up—hey! That hurts!"

Grasping her by both ears, he pushed her past the altar and with a final heave propelled her sharply through the door of her bedroom so that she fell on her face onto the stone floor. By the time she had picked herself up, he was nailing the door shut with furious bangs of a hammer.