Dragonfire (8 page)

Lord Rothlan woke that morning to thunderous knocking on his bedroom door. He sat up abruptly in his massive four-poster bed, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and wondered what on earth was going on. Muttering under his breath, he wrapped a thick woollen plaid round his shoulders before pulling back one of the heavy draperies that surrounded his bed.

The great, carved door to his room burst open as half of his household crowded into the room and watched as he stepped forward in sudden wonder from his bed. The room was transformed. Sunlight streamed in through the three tall windows that faced the east; it glowed in shining, golden bars on the ruby-red Persian carpets that scattered the floor and picked out the delicate gold and rose tones of the tapestries lining the walls. With a cry of delight, he ran to stand in its warmth, throwing his hands into the air in joy as his servants tumbled round him, laughing and clapping. Gathering the trailing plaid around him, he walked to one of the windows and looked out over the loch. The foul mist had disappeared and below him the waters of Loch Jarishan sparkled in the sunlight while, cavorting gaily in the air, his eagles soared high over the mountains in a sky of cloudless blue.

“The crystal!” he suddenly said aloud, as he realized the enormity of what must have happened for the magic shield to be lifted from his lands. “I must see the crystal!”

The castle was seized by madness as everyone rushed outside and luxuriated in the heavenly warmth of the sun. Summer had returned to Jarishan!

Trembling with excitement, Lord Rothlan held the crystal
in both hands and again felt power surge through him as he watched the shadows take shape. The globe was glowing brightly and he caught his breath as many pictures started to unfold in its depths. He saw the MacArthur with his daughter beside him and his eyes dwelt for some time on Lady Ellan before the mists swirled and, to his relief, Amgarad appeared looking, it must be admitted, very much the worse for wear. His feathers seemed decidedly more ragged than usual and an ugly red swelling disfigured one side of his face. Perched unhappily on a spur of rock, his misery smote his master like a sword.

Rothlan concentrated his mind and spoke the words of an old spell, watching with dark, eager eyes to see if the enchantment still worked. Triumph surged through him as a faint beam of light lit Amgarad. He saw the bird’s head lift suddenly and his eyes become alert and watchful. Contact had been made!

“Amgarad,” said Lord Rothlan, staring feverishly into the glass. “Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you, Master!” replied Amgarad, flapping his wings.

“Tell me, Amgarad! Tell me quickly! What has happened?”

Amgarad poured out the story of his journey, the dragon and his adventures in the hill but started to stumble as he had to admit that in trying to steal the firestones, he had been worsted.

“Master, I was so close to them! I saw him hold them up! There was a belt, a necklace and a ring, all studded with firestones! Fabulous pieces! He wrapped them in a cloth and was about to take them away when I swooped on him out of the dark. But he must have heard the noise of my wings for he threw a heavy magic instrument at me. It knocked me out of the air and left me stunned and when I woke he had gone and the firestones with him. An army of humans is looking for him now on the slopes of the hill and the MacArthurs, too, are searching everywhere. They’ll not find him, though, for the thief escaped.”

“Did you follow him, Amgarad? Do you know where he went?”

“I followed him, Master. I know where he lives.”

“You have done well, my brave eagle! Your words explain many things! I believe the MacArthur has lost much of his power now that the firestones have left the hill. There can be no other reason for what has happened here!”

“Something has happened at Jarishan, Master?”

“A most wonderful thing, Amgarad! This morning when we woke, the sun was shining on Jarishan! It is summer! The lake is clear and your eagles are flying in the sunlight!”

“Master! I can hardly believe it! It must mean that it was the firestones that …”

“… kept us captive,” finished Lord Rothlan nodding. “I can think of no other explanation. It was only when they were taken out of the hill that the ring of magic round Jarishan was broken. The Lords of the North must have given them to the MacArthurs for safe-keeping. Interesting, isn’t it, that they wouldn’t trust Prince Kalman with such power, and the firestones must have enormous power if they held the ring of magic round Jarishan! Amgarad, we must get them back from this thief before the MacArthur finds out where they are! They must never return to the hill! Now that the sun has returned to our lands I’m determined that it’ll stay. Listen carefully! If the ring of magic that surrounds us really has disappeared then we will join you on the hill as soon as we can. I have many old scores to settle with the MacArthur and,” he smiled unpleasantly, “I shall show him no mercy! We shall be with you soon, Amgarad!”

Lord Rothlan released the crystal ball from the grip of his fingers and watched as it misted over. “Call my captains,” he told his valet as he stalked to the stairs. “We have much to discuss!”

That evening as Lord Rothlan and his captains surveyed their army as it marched, in kilted splendour, across the glen,
Prince Kalman also watched with an anxious frown, from the shelter of a stand of trees on the hillside. He, too, had been amazed when the sun had suddenly bathed Jarishan in light and warmth that morning and now, with the snow melting all around him and flowers springing from the wet earth, he felt a surge of unease in the knowledge that the magic shield round Jarishan must have disappeared completely. And now this! An army marching for the border! But who on earth was Rothlan going to fight?

“Where
can
Rothlan be going with an army like that?” he pondered aloud.

Kitor clicked his beak non-committally. “Does it matter, Master? With Rothlan gone, the loch will be open to us, for only servants and the women and children are left. The water goblins are doing their best, but it’s a huge loch. They need more time!”

Kalman pressed his lips together in a thin line. “The crown
is
here!” he muttered. “I know it’s here. I can feel its presence. That mad, old woman told me the truth!”

“She was too afraid not to, Master,” the crow said dryly.

“She said it landed here and that my father’s last spell bound it to the Meridens for ever. But why isn’t it revealing itself to me? Why?” Frustration laced the prince’s voice as he watched the last remnants of Rothlan’s army disappear into the hills. “Come Kitor; we’ll leave Rothlan to his battles,” he snapped. “Summon the water goblins to the boathouse! They must be told to work harder. We mightn’t have much more time left here and the crown must be found!”

As Rothlan’s men marched over the sheep paths that led to the border, their spirits ran high. Rothlan, however, was more than a little worried. Spells were tricky things but he could think of no other way to move his army across Scotland unseen.

Topping a hill, they looked down on the waters of the broad river that rushed and tumbled swiftly among the rocks of a deep gorge. This was the boundary of Rothlan’s domain and
was regarded with both hope and some trepidation for they all knew that if they could cross the river, the spell that hemmed Jarishan in from the outside world would indeed have been lifted.

Rothlan’s horse shifted beneath him as it eyed the steep slope to the water but he gave it no time to think. Urging his mount down the brae towards the river he splashed across to the far bank. His men crossed after him and let out a ringing cheer as they reached the other side. They were across, the spell that had held them within Jarishan had been broken and they were free.

Rothlan dismounted and, making his way to a grassy knoll, surveyed the sea of faces that surrounded him. “I must now ask you to put your trust in me! I have a spell to cast that will take you to Edinburgh. As I make it, I want you to think yourself inside the hill in Edinburgh called Arthur’s Seat. You all know it of old!”

There were nods and murmurs from his soldiers. It was many years since they had been in Edinburgh but no one could forget the great hill shaped like a sleeping dragon that dominated the city.

“Think of its tunnels as you hear the words of the spell and it will transfer you there in seconds! Trust me!”

Rothlan shut his eyes and chanted the words of the spell and in an instant he, and his men, disappeared.

At around the same time as Lord Rothlan and his army opened their eyes to find themselves inside Arthur’s Seat, three pigeons landed neatly in the courtyard of Sir James’s distillery where Jamie Todd had been waiting for them patiently.

“Sir James will be pleased to see you,” he said kindly as he bent down, arm outstretched, so that they could perch on his sleeve.

Fervently hoping that no one would notice, he carried them carefully up the stairs to Sir James’s office and looked round helplessly for somewhere to put them. The pigeons solved the problem for him by fluttering to an upright chair and perching on its back.

Sir James stood up, eyeing them warily and almost jumped out of his skin as Archie materialized from the back of one of the pigeons.

“Archie! I … er … how are you? I … I’m sorry … it’s just that I still can’t get used to the way you change around so much.”

“That’s all right, Sir James. It’s easily done and you’ll soon get used to it. Hamish and Jaikie here,” he indicated the other two pigeons, “have come to take you into the hill.” He moved over to one of the pigeons who obligingly stuck a foot out. Tied to its leg, Sir James noticed, was a little bag.

“Is that a message for me?” he asked interestedly.

“No, it isn’t a message,” said Archie. “It’s a jewel. A firestone!”

“Ah, yes! I remember,” nodded Sir James. “When Arthur cried, his tears solidified.” He looked at it closely as Archie emptied it out of the little bag and into the palm of his hand.

“It’s … different, isn’t it? It seems to contain moving fire.” He touched it with his finger. “How wonderful! Quite unlike any
jewel I’ve ever seen.”

Sir James was unsure as to whether or not the firestone was intended as a gift and hesitated to ask. He was glad, however, that he’d said nothing when Archie remarked, “It’s not only beautiful, Sir James, it’s a magic stone, and I brought it because without it you won’t be able to merge with this pigeon.”

Sir James almost fell over. “Merge with what?” he asked faintly.

“Merge. With this pigeon.”

“Me! Merge with … with that pigeon! What
are
you talking about?”

“Well, you see, the park’s full of policemen looking for Arthur. They know something’s going on but they’re not quite sure what and they’re keeping watch. So Hamish and Jaikie have come to take you in with them.”

“Quite frankly,” said Sir James, looking in horror at the pigeons, “I don’t think I want to try this merging business. How on earth am I going to get my bulk into that pigeon?”

Hamish then demerged from his pigeon, looking strained and anxious. “Sir James, please. You must come. We badly need your help, you don’t know how much! Many things happened after you and Arthur left last night and the MacArthur needs to see you, especially now that the Ranger can’t come.”

“What’s the matter with the Ranger? He was fine when he dropped me here an hour or two ago.”

“The Ranger’s had to go back to work, to help organize the police patrols. He’s taken Neil and Clara out with him, though, so that they can slip into the hill while no one’s looking.”

“And you really want me to do this … merging? Won’t it hurt the pigeon?”

“The pigeon will know nothing about it, Sir James. Just impose your will on it and it’ll fly with us,” instructed Hamish.

Sir James looked at Jamie helplessly. “What do I have to do?”

“Put the firestone in your pocket, Sir James,” urged Archie. “Put it somewhere safe, so that you can’t lose it. The power of
the stone will allow you to merge with the pigeon.”

Hamish went up to his pigeon, put both hands firmly on its back and disappeared. “Just think yourself into it,” advised the pigeon, “and you’ll be fine.”

Feeling a complete fool, Sir James moved behind the pigeon that Archie had materialized from and put his hands on its back. He felt the warmth of its body and the softness of its feathers and all of a sudden he was seeing the world from his perch on the back of the office chair.

“You did it, Sir James,” said Archie approvingly. “Now come out of it. Draw your mind together and step out of its back.”

Sir James suddenly appeared before them again and looked around in amazement. “I didn’t feel a thing!” he said in astonishment.

“Okay!” said Jaikie, “now that you know how, let’s go!”

“Right, Jamie,” said Hamish. “Take us outside into the yard and we’ll be off.”

“Are you sure you’re all right, Sir James?” whispered Jamie, negotiating the steps carefully.

“So far I feel fine but I’m not sure what flying will be like!”

“Don’t worry,” answered Jaikie, “you’ll take to it like a duck to water.”

Sir James fluttered anxiously on Jamie’s arm as they reached the yard. With his heart in his mouth, he watched as the other two pigeons flew up into the air but wasn’t at all surprised that his seemed disinclined to fly. Maybe I’m too heavy for it he thought dismally, gazing up at the other two as they fluttered around him.

Jaikie swooped low. “Make the bird do what
you
want,” he said. “Come on, Sir James,
fly!
”

As Jamie and Archie watched anxiously, Sir James concentrated his mind and, miraculously, it worked. His pigeon soared into the air and all of a sudden he was flying. He felt his wings beating strongly; he was part of the bird. Below him the buildings that fringed the park spread before him and,
intrigued at the sight of the Palace gardens, he veered towards them.

At that moment both Hamish and Jaikie streaked across his path, giving him such a jolt that he almost forgot to flap his wings.

“Where,” screamed Jaikie, “do you think you’re going?”

“Follow us!” urged Hamish, flying alongside him. “Keep with us and for heaven’s sake, don’t stray! Remember that we share the same airspace as hawks and buzzards! You really mustn’t go off on your own! Stay alert, Sir James!”

After his first wild sortie, Sir James settled between Jaikie and Hamish. Flying was a marvellous experience, he decided, admiring the green sweep of the slopes of the park, the glimpse of the lochs and the red mass of Salisbury Crags.

He was about to speak to Jaikie and Hamish when he realized to his horror that they had disappeared. Flapping around wildly, he remembered what they’d said about hawks. But surely he would have noticed if a hawk had caught them? Suddenly, they appeared out of nowhere on either side of him.

“You were supposed to be watching us, Sir James,” chided Hamish gently. “We dived for home and you …” he paused, “you flew straight on! Ready now, dive!”

While Hamish and Jaikie feathered their wings and swooped gently earthwards, Sir James, on a complete high, pulled his wings back euphorically and went into a dive that would have done credit to a hawk.

“For goodness sake!” muttered Hamish, appalled. “Would you just look at him! If he hits the ground at that speed, he’ll make a hole six feet deep!”

Jaikie didn’t hear him. Realizing that Sir James’s daredevil antics could result in mashed pigeon, he snapped his wings back and dropped like a stone after him.

“Feather your wings or you’ll hit the ground,” he shrieked, as Sir James, seemingly hell-bent on his own destruction, continued to hurl downwards at increasing speed. Jaikie’s words
hit home, and as the ground started to loom frighteningly large beneath him, Sir James levelled out frantically and, with only a few feet to spare, made a disgraceful landing that involved a few bounces and a couple of cart wheels.

As he lay panting, wings outspread, on the grass, Hamish and Jaikie landed beside him in a state of complete mental exhaustion! Nerves utterly frazzled, they heaved a sigh of relief as Sir James righted himself and fluffed his ruffled feathers, seemingly unaware of the havoc he had caused. Jaikie and Hamish exchanged a look that spoke volumes.

“That was wonderful!” said Sir James, hopping happily over the grass towards them. “You know, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Do you think that one day …” he enquired eagerly, “it might be possible to merge with an eagle?”

Jaikie lifted his eyes to the heavens. That was all he needed! “You’d better talk to Archie about that,” he said, a tinge of sharpness creeping into his voice. “He’s always harping on about being an eagle!”

“Aye, and let’s face it, Sir James,” adjured Hamish, “you’ve still got a lot to learn about being a pigeon!”

Jaikie fluttered towards what looked like a rabbit hole. “Now,” he said turning to Sir James, “this is the last part of the journey. You just let yourself drop down this hole and when I say ‘now’ you start flapping your wings like mad, okay?”

It was not a nice experience. Even though Sir James was cushioned from the sides of the shaft by the other two pigeons, the sensation of dropping into a black void was dreadful.

“Now,” yelled Jaikie, and Sir James flapped his wings frantically as he remembered his instructions. Much to his relief, it seemed that his journey was really over, as the shaft brought them straight into the middle of the main cavern where the MacArthurs huddled round their chief. Sir James sensed a feeling of deep gloom as he demerged and made his bow to the MacArthur and Lady Ellan.

“Sir James!!” Neil and Clara rushed forward to grasp his
hands. “Sir James, you were a pigeon! How did you do it?”

“What was it like?” asked Neil enviously. “Did you really fly in the air?”

“I did,” said Sir James, smoothing his hair and looking at his arms and legs as if to make sure that he was still all there. “It was a wonderful experience, although,” and here he grinned, “I think I gave Jaikie and Hamish a few bad moments! Believe me, there’s more to being a pigeon than meets the eye!”

Lady Ellan, glancing from Jaikie and Hamish to Sir James, raised her eyebrows and hid a smile as she stepped forward to welcome him.

“I’m so glad you were able to come,” she said, shaking hands with Sir James. “We’re in serious trouble and we badly need your help.”

“Jamie mentioned something about treasure and stolen jewels?”

“I suppose they are jewels, but actually firestones are much more than that. They are magic stones and have powers of their own. We kept ours with the rest of Arthur’s treasure and, I must admit that over the years we tended to forget that they were there. Those stones given to us by the Lords of the North were imbued with very strong magic. A necklace, a belt and a ring, all studded with firestones, were the most powerful. As my father told you earlier, they kept the shield in place around Lord Rothlan’s lands. They also protected us here in the hill. Now the stones have been stolen and although we’re still searching the hill, we know that they’ve gone.”

“You might still find them,” Clara said seriously, looking round at the vastness that surrounded them. “The inside of the hill is huge!”

Lady Ellan smiled. “We know that they’ve gone because our own power is waning. We feel their loss within us!”

“Rothlan’s at the bottom of all this!” snarled the MacArthur, sunk in gloom. “You mark my words!”

“It’s all my fault!” Hamish interrupted, wringing his hands.
“When Arthur left the hill, I should have gone to his cave to take the firestones into safe-keeping. Instead, I stayed to watch the police arrive and by the time I reached the cave, the stones had gone. And I found those!” He showed them a soft, dirty bundle of feathers.

“The bird,” gasped Clara, taking one in her fingers and looking at Hamish in alarm, “Amgarad!”

“Yes,” sighed the MacArthur. “Amgarad must have stolen the stones and with
them
in his hands, Jarishan will be open to the world. Rothlan must have been feasting on his anger for years. There will be war and it will be to the hill that he will come first, to take his revenge on me. The irony of it all is that although he doesn’t know it, I was the only one who stood up for him when the Lords of the North were deciding his punishment. It was Prince Kalman that did for him in the end. He was determined to see him cowed and controlled.”

“What about Dougal MacLeod?” asked Clara suddenly. “He might have gone back and stolen the stones.”

“I’m afraid that won’t wash, Clara!” interrupted Sir James. “Dougal MacLeod is
not
one of my favourite people but I’ve known him for years and he’s as honest as the day is long; MacLeod’s no thief.”

A whooshing noise and a frantic fluttering of wings announced the arrival of a pigeon through the shaft. It could barely speak and tumbled over itself in its anxiety to get to the MacArthur. “Rothlan’s eagles have come, MacArthur!” it stuttered. “They are gathered in the crags with Amgarad.”

At the same time, a commotion at the back of the hall revealed several stumbling, bleeding figures. “Rothlan’s here! In the tunnels!” gasped one, making his way to the MacArthur. “We came to warn you! He is here …” he gasped, “… with an army. How they entered the hill I don’t know, for we have guards posted everywhere. We’re trying to hold them back, Master, but I fear they are too many for us! Our power is weak and he’s using thunderbolts and strange spells against us.”

All eyes turned to the MacArthur who seemed totally dumbfounded at the news. Lady Ellan stood up and paced the floor anxiously. “He’s right, Father, our power is nearly gone; we can’t fight Rothlan as we are.” She looked round as if hoping to draw help from the air and gestured hopelessly. “Surely there must be some way that we can beat him! There must be!”

“We can’t beat Rothlan on our own,” growled the MacArthur. “The Lords of the North gave us the stones and they will have to help us get them back, but we mustn’t let ourselves be taken prisoner; Rothlan will bury us in the darkest reaches of the earth if he has his way!”

“You’re forgetting, MacArthur,” said Hamish, “that we still have the magic carpets!”