Dragonfire (12 page)

Rothlan was still grasping her firmly by the wrists when Lady Ellan opened her eyes. She met his gaze squarely and then looked in wonder at her surroundings; she was no longer in the open air and all traces of the castle and Tattoo had vanished. Around her instead, loomed the vast hall of a castle. It was a pleasant room despite its size. A log fire burned in a huge fireplace and shields and armour decorated the staircase. It was the dark blue and green weave of the curtains, however, that gave Lady Ellan the clue to her whereabouts. Her eyes flew to Rothlan’s face, for she knew his tartan. He had brought her to Jarishan!

Even as her lips formed the word, Lord Rothlan released her. His lips twisted in a sneer. “Welcome to Jarishan!” he said abruptly.

Servants clad in his livery entered the hall and stopped dead as they recognized him. From the outside came the rush of heavy footsteps as his captains entered in search of their master.

Their leader, a hefty, grizzled Scotsman, saluted smartly. “Thank goodness you’re safe, Master! We didn’t know if it was your spell or that of the MacArthurs that took us from the hill so suddenly!”

“The eagles, Hector?” Rothlan demanded. “Amgarad! Have they returned?”

Lady Ellan noticed the anxiety in his voice as he asked the question and the relief that crossed his face as the man nodded.

“They have, milord! They’re circling outside.”

“Good! Let Amgarad enter and Hector, would you ask your wife to come to the castle with some of the ladies. We have,” he paused, turning to Ellan, “a visitor. Lady Ellan, may I present
the Captain of my Guard, Hector Mackenzie.”

Hector bowed, but not before she’d caught the expression of amazement that crossed his face.

“Lady Ellan is our prisoner, Hector. She will reside in the west tower. I would be obliged if you would ask your wife to attend her, and perhaps some of the other ladies would make sure that her quarters are suitable.”

“Welcome to Jarishan, Lady Ellan,” the captain bowed again. “I knew your father well in days gone by and it’s a sad thing for me to see his daughter in such circumstances.”

Ellan searched her memory. “I do remember him talking of a Hector Mackenzie and an incident involving,” she almost smiled, “… a stag, was it not? From Lochiel’s estate?”

A broad grin split Hector’s face from ear to ear as he recalled the incident and then disappeared as he straightened his face in an attempt to look suitably sober under the sour gaze of his master.

“Aye! Weel!” he muttered. “Fancy the MacArthur remembering that! Er … honoured to meet you, your ladyship.” He turned to Lord Rothlan. “Fine, Master, I’ll be telling my wife to come up to the castle right away and I’ll pass the message on to Amgarad. Now, if you’ll excuse me! Milord. Lady Ellan!” He bowed to her and his master and left by the great front door.

In the sunlit forecourt of the castle, they could hear him calling Amgarad and in a few seconds the door darkened as the huge bird swept inside and landed on Rothlan’s shoulder. However, when he saw Lady Ellan standing in front of him he struggled to keep his balance, his eyes flashed fire and his feathers stood on end. Bristling with rage he hissed at her furiously and his master winced as the razor-sharp talons penetrated his jacket. Ellan stood her ground but the bird was such an awful creature that she whitened perceptibly. Even as she stared at him in horror, Amgarad lowered his gaze and turned to his master, whose arm reached up protectively to shield him.

Rothlan indicated the chairs that stood on either side of the massive fireplace that dominated the hall and waited until she had made herself comfortable before sitting down himself. Amgarad settled on the arm of Rothlan’s chair, rigid with disapproval at Lady Ellan’s presence.

“Meet Amgarad, Lady Ellan. Captain of my eagles. I still call them ‘my eagles’ although they do not resemble them any more. The fault of Prince Kalman and your father!”

“Prince Kalman, maybe, but certainly not my father,” Ellan said sharply. “He told me himself that he disapproved of what happened to your eagles and he remembers Amgarad well!”

Rothlan looked at her from under lowered brows. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

“I am not accustomed to telling lies!” Ellan responded proudly. “I give you my word. He was overruled by the others when the Lords of the North made their decision.”

“By Prince Kalman!” Rothlan almost spat out the words. “Has he taken power yet, by the way? That was what he was angling for before I was exiled.”

Lady Ellan shook her head. “No, the old men still rule,” she said guardedly.

“You surprise me! I thought he would have been made Master by this time.”

“From what I hear, I think he’s more or less sidelined the Lords of the North …”

Rothlan snorted. “Kalman always played his own game and even I underestimated his ruthlessness.”

“But you betrayed the Stuart cause!”

He looked at her thoughtfully and seemed to come to a decision. “That was what Kalman wanted everyone to believe, Lady Ellan. The truth of the matter is that he saw me as a rival. That’s why he put the story round that I hated Charles Edward Stuart. All lies to discredit me. I didn’t betray the Jacobites — he planted the evidence against me and believe me, it was damning! I can’t blame the Lords of the North for not believing
my story but I think they might have taken my word before that of a Meriden!”

Ellan heard the ring of truth in his voice and met his brown eyes steadily. “You mean … you supported Bonnie Prince Charlie?”

“Of course I did. He was a Stuart!”

She shook her head in horror. “Then Prince Kalman is more evil than I thought! To have you exiled! It’s absolutely monstrous!”

Rothlan shrugged. “He wanted me out of the way and he succeeded! May I know what else he’s been up to?”

“He travels round the country quite a lot and his spies, the crows, are everywhere. He’s powerful in his own right and people are afraid of him! When I was staying with my mother’s family at Machray, I heard rumours …”

“Go on!”

“Old Agnes — you must remember her? The carpet mender! She disappeared for months and then turned up looking like a scarecrow, saying that she’d been to Ardray.”

“Ardray? Kalman’s estate?” He pondered the thought. “Well, maybe he had magic carpets to mend.”

“Strange, all the same, that he would keep her there for months on end.”

“I can’t even begin to guess what Kalman’s up to but I know he needs watching, just like his father before him. He’d stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

Lady Ellan gave a wry smile. “And you?” she asked. “Haven’t you just kidnapped me to get what
you
want?”

Rothlan walked over to her and, taking her hand so that the firestone ring gleamed piercingly between them, looked at her steadily. “You are wearing the firestones,” he said. “Their magic has imprisoned me and mine for many a long year but now, as you see, it is summer at Jarishan. I told you in Edinburgh, Lady Ellan. The firestones should be mine. I need them to protect my land and my people.”

“Why don’t you take them from me? You could. Your magic is powerful!”

He looked at her. “Magic is not always straightforward, milady. You must know that. It would be useless for me to take them from you by force. You must give them to me of your own free will for the power of the stones to benefit Jarishan.”

Ellan looked appalled. “I can’t give them to you. How can I? Their magic also protects us in the hill. Without them we would lose
our
power.” She withdrew her hand from his grasp and returned to her chair.

“If you will not give them to me,” Rothlan shrugged and moved towards the fireplace, “then I must keep you here at Jarishan.” He rested one hand on the mantelpiece and looked at her broodingly. “One way or another, the stones must remain here!”

“My father will come for me!” she flashed at him angrily.

“He may well come for you; but what will he do? While you are at Jarishan, the stones will protect us. You will not be able to use them against me, nor,” he smiled sourly, “turn my poor Amgarad into a dove again!”

At this remark, Amgarad made an indescribable noise, hunched his shoulders angrily and dug his talons deeper into the chair.

“Aren’t you afraid that I might try to escape?”

“I must, of course, have your word of honour that you won’t leave the island.”

There was silence between them. Then Ellan nodded. “Very well, Lord Rothlan. I give you my word of honour that I won’t leave the island.”

“In that case, Lady Ellan, you are free to go where you please.”

The sudden bursts of blazing stars that lit the night sky drew Arthur like a magnet towards the castle. Fire after all, was his element and he proceeded to revel in it. His sinuous body swooped out of the darkness and soared over the battlements as he chased and swallowed stars to his heart’s content. Although the bangs had startled him at first, it hadn’t taken him long to realize that they were merely the precursor to another feast of fire. He had never, in his whole life, enjoyed himself so much.

Clara sat watching, open-mouthed. In truth, she could not describe how she felt. Shock, horror and wonder were all there but paramount was a feeling of thankfulness and relief. She had not been at all happy at leaving him to the not-so-tender mercies of Nessie and could only feel glad that he was back among them once more.

“Are you still there, Sir James?” Neil was aghast as he watched Arthur’s antics.

“Yes, I’m just wondering if we’ll be able to cover all this up!”

“We mightn’t have to,” whispered Neil, looking at the people around him who were staring in fascination at the sky. “The audience doesn’t seem to believe that he’s a real dragon at all. They think he’s part of the show!”

Arthur had a wonderful time as he wheeled and cavorted round the sky, gobbling up rockets and exploding sparks until even he decided that he’d had enough. All of a sudden, he felt the most enormous burp growing inside him and his whole body wriggled convulsively as he spewed the most glorious display of fireworks into the air. For a moment he couldn’t believe that he’d actually produced the wonderful starry fire that wreathed him in light.

Tentatively, he tried again and blew another burst of glorious fire that sparkled and whizzed round him like Catherine Wheels gone wild! It was then that Arthur realized that he had, at last, grown up and could breathe fire like all the other dragons he had ever heard of. So exciting was this thought that more than anything he wanted to tell his dear friend, Archie. So, with a flick of his tail he left the brightly-lit castle, disappeared into the darkness and flew like an arrow towards Arthur’s Seat and home.

Clara and Neil looked at one another in amazement. Arthur’s final bursts of sparks had been so fabulous that they had made him seem like a firework himself.

“Wow!” Clara said loudly. “Wasn’t that amazing? That dragon really looked real, didn’t it? I wonder how they did it?” Her neighbours nodded in agreement. Everyone, after all, knew that dragons didn’t exist and it was, perhaps, this ingrained belief that served to relegate Arthur from reality to the higher realms of pyrotechnic engineering!

Jostled by the crowds making their way down the High Street, Clara suddenly grabbed Neil’s arm and dived into the narrow confines of Lady Stair’s Close. “Carpet!” she commanded, clapping her hands twice as she had seen the MacArthur do. “Go on, Neil! Clap! You know what Lady Ellan said!”

Neil said, “Carpet!” and clapped his hands twice. Looking up at the high walls of the close, he moved further towards the open courtyard that lay beyond. “Do you think they’ll come?” he asked doubtfully.

“Lady Ellan said that they’d come when we called them, didn’t she?”

“Yes, but nothing’s happened yet!”

“Give them time! They’ve got to get here remember!”

The carpets arrived in barely a minute. Neil saw them first and grabbed Clara by the arm as two carpets suddenly appeared and hovered in front of them. Clara recognized the pattern on hers and scrambled onto it. Neil watched anxiously as she
promptly disappeared. “Are you there, Clara?” he whispered.

“Of course I am!” she said, her voice coming from nowhere. “Hurry up! Someone might come into the close.”

“Where shall we ask them to take us? To the school or to the MacArthur?”

“The MacArthur, I think. It would be useless going to the school if he isn’t there!”

Neil clambered onto his carpet and felt it give under him as he sat down. “Take us to the MacArthur!” he instructed. The carpets floated up into the air and soared over the houses, lights, traffic and people of the High Street until the old familiar school building loomed in front of them. This time, the carpets knew exactly where they were going and floated round until they came to an open window. Clara ducked her head as they skimmed through and jumped off as her carpet hovered just feet from the floor. Neil appeared seconds later as he, too, got off. The carpets floated over to the wall, rolled themselves up and settled themselves neatly. Even as they watched in fascination, another larger carpet unrolled itself, hovered for a moment, then sailed out of the window.

“I wonder who it’s gone to fetch?” mused Clara.

“Probably Sir James,” came the answer. “He wouldn’t be able to get into the school otherwise. It’s all locked up!”

“Let’s call Dad,” Clara said. “I’m sure he’ll want to be at this meeting.”

“Okay,” nodded Neil as he dialled the house number. His father answered and, when he heard what had happened at the castle, was more than anxious to come, although he was unsure about using a magic carpet.

“It’s easy, Dad! Put the firestone you got from Lady Ellan into your pocket, say ‘carpet,’ clap your hands twice and it’ll come for you. You’d better stand in the garden, though, as it won’t be able to get into the house if the windows are all closed.”

Clara opened the classroom door and peered into the corridor. Mischief immediately ran up the stairs towards them
and purred round their legs. “Hurry up, Neil. Tell Dad we’ll see him soon. I think the MacArthurs must be in the Music Room.”

With Mischief running in front of them, they climbed the stairs and knocked at the door of the Music Room. It was very quiet and Neil looked indecisive, not quite knowing what to do. Archie, however, demerged from Mischief and pushed the door open. The MacArthurs were all there, sitting round the room in hushed, gloomy silence.

Mischief followed them in. She seemed quite used to the MacArthurs and pleased to see the two children. They walked towards the MacArthur who was sitting on a chair, totally broken with grief.

“We’re both very sorry about Lady Ellan, MacArthur,” said Neil. “We’ll do everything we can to help you get her back!”

“Aye. My dear girl … in the hands of Alasdair Rothlan!” He shook his head sorrowfully.

Clara, however, looked at him with a dangerous sparkle in her eyes. “Lady Ellan can look after herself,” she stated roundly, “and if you ask me, she’ll boss that Lord Rothlan around until he’ll be glad to let her go!”

“Good for you, Clara! I’m sure you’re right!” said Sir James as he entered the room. “A lady of spirit, Lady Ellan!”

The MacArthur, cheered at this attitude, was moved to agree. “Aye! You’re maybe right at that! Always an argumentative lassie, my daughter!”

Sir James looked at Neil and Clara quizzically. “I suppose it was the three of you who cooked up the chaos on the esplanade?”

Clara nodded. “We flew into the castle before the Tattoo started. Neil and I were pigeons and the MacArthurs merged with MacLeod’s men and some of the Touareg.”

“I gathered as much. Poor Dougal! He must have wondered why his men didn’t come to his rescue! What I
really
want to know is how these infernal walkways went so completely berserk! There was no one near them as far as I could see.”

Clara and Neil looked at the ground and didn’t answer.

Sir James looked appalled. “It was never the pair of you!” he exclaimed.

Neil took a deep breath. “We were pigeons, Sir James. All I had to do was perch on the machinery and jab the buttons with my beak.”

“Well, I …” Sir James shook his head and burst out laughing, just as the Ranger walked into the room. “Ranger, come and hear what your children have been up to.”

“What’s that?” asked the Ranger.

“I’ll let them tell you themselves!” he said with a grin.

While they regaled their father with their exploits and the disappearance of Lady Ellan and Lord Rothlan, Sir James and the MacArthur sat deep in discussion.

“Rothlan must have managed to break out of Jarishan when the firestones left the hill,” the MacArthur decided. He shook his head worriedly. “I don’t like it! There’s going to be trouble! Prince Kalman must be furious! He hates Rothlan like poison, you know. And that’s another thing! I haven’t heard from the prince at all! Why hasn’t he come to Edinburgh? He should be here, helping us to fight Rothlan. He must know what’s going on! Most of the Lords of the North are dithering old fools but not the prince! He’s as sharp as they come. If only Rothlan hadn’t captured Ellan!”

“There must be secret ways into the hill, surely,” Sir James said, looking at him expectantly. “The first thing we have to do is make a plan to rescue her.”

At that moment, the Ranger walked over. “Won’t Arthur be able to help?” he suggested. “He’s back in the hill now, isn’t he?”

“Arthur?” the MacArthur looked blank.

“My goodness! I forgot to tell you!” Sir James clapped a hand to his forehead at his forgetfulness. “Arthur
is
back! We saw him at the castle. The fireworks attracted him and he had a display of his own!”

The MacArthur sat up, electrified by the news. “Ranger
MacLean,” he said, “are you seriously telling me that Arthur has come back? He’s back and he’s in the hill?”

“Yes,” the Ranger nodded. “Swooped right over me, he did and disappeared into the hill.”

Archie leapt to his feet at the news. Arthur had returned to the hill! He jumped up, punching the air. “Arthur! Arthur’s back!” he yelled and ran to the door, shouting for his carpet.

The MacArthur ignored him. “But if Arthur was able to get into the hill, it must mean that Rothlan has gone! He and his men must have pulled out completely.” He suddenly rose to his feet and walked up and down, twisting his hands together worriedly. He looked at Sir James. “He’s gone back to Jarishan,” ge whispered miserably, “and he’s taken Ellan with him!”

“Jarishan!” whispered Clara. “I’ve heard of it before. Where is it?”

It was Hamish who answered her. “Jarishan is Rothlan’s estate. It’s on the west coast of Scotland … and by the look of things,” he surveyed the MacArthur through narrowed eyes, “… by the look of things, I somehow think that we will be visiting it quite soon!”

The MacArthur was so upset that he could barely talk. “Fetch the carpets,” he commanded. “We must return to the hill!”

There had been great excitement among the MacArthurs at the news of Arthur’s return, followed quickly by a surge of happiness as it dawned on them that they would be returning home. Now their elation had gone completely and they looked at one another apprehensively as they gathered together their few belongings in silence.

Clara bent down and quietly picked up Mischief. Gently, she carried her downstairs to the janitor’s office where she had her bed; a cardboard box with a soft cushion and a blanket in it. She hid a smile as she stroked the little cat’s head and laid her in the middle of the cushion.

“You’ll be all right, Mischief,” she assured the little cat, albeit
with more confidence than she felt. “Just don’t freak when old MacGregor appears in the morning!” And she ran back upstairs to join the others and get her carpet.

Arthur had indeed returned to the hill but his welcome had not been as he’d imagined. For the hill was empty, totally empty!

Crying in anguish, he crawled along tunnels and passageways but nowhere could he find any trace of the MacArthurs. He couldn’t understand it and became increasingly frightened. His own cave, too, was not as he’d left it. His precious treasure was scattered everywhere and, worst of all, the firestones had gone. The thought of living alone in the hill was chilling and he called for Archie until he could call no more.

Shivering and fearful, poor Arthur went round his cave gathering bits of treasure in his mouth until he had heaped it once more into a comfortable pile. Sobbing his heart out and shedding great quantities of firestones everywhere, he lay on his gold, a chastened heap of misery.

It was much later that a slight noise caused him to raise his great head and look towards the entrance to the tunnel. Surely he couldn’t be mistaken! Wasn’t that torchlight flickering in the darkness?

Hope sprang in his heart as he lurched off his pile of treasure. A voice, a dear voice that he knew only too well, called out to him. It was Archie! The cave was suddenly filled with the MacArthurs and their torches. Archie ran up and flung his arms round his neck. “Arthur! Arthur! You’ve come back! Please, don’t leave us again!”

Standing at the back of the crowd, Neil, Clara, Sir James and the Ranger watched as each MacArthur in turn greeted the great dragon and welcomed him home. Arthur was so happy at this sudden change in his fortunes that he cried even more and drenched everyone in firestones.

Later that night, when everyone else was fast asleep, Arthur poured out the sad tale of his sojourn in Loch Ness to Archie,
who nestled comfortably in the crook of one of his spindly arms.

“It’s a deep, dark loch, that Loch Ness, Archie. So deep and cold that I thought I’d never reach the bottom. And then we had to swim through a tunnel and, ocht … when we reached her caves, they were dank, cheerless places. Not warm and comfortable like here. And I’d no treasure to lie on, Archie, and I did’nt have you and the others to talk to, either.”

“But surely Nessie had faeries to look after her, Arthur? She could’nt live on her own!”

“She had faeries, all right! Water goblins!” Arthur shivered at the thought of them. “Horrid, spiteful things! They didn’t want me there from the start. They just wanted Nessie all to themselves! And do you know, Archie, over the years they’ve made her just like them! When I knew her, she was young and full of fun!”

“So you decided to come back?” Archie stretched and smiled happily.

“I missed you, Archie. I missed the others too, of course, but mostly you. I missed our talks and the tales you used to tell me. These goblins did nothing but gossip about one another and Nessie was much the same.”

“Didn’t she talk about food?” asked Archie, whose mind was never far from the subject of meals. “About what you would have for supper?”