The Various (10 page)

There was silence as all waited for the Queen to appear. Long moments passed. Benzo yawned, rolled his eyes, and laid his head in mock weariness on the shoulder of Flitch – only to be kicked by Scurl and told to stand aright. The three Elder Counsellors stood bent and motionless, grasping their staffs and staring sadly at the ground. Some of the children started to fidget and scratch themselves as the evening midges began to bite. Little-Marten, high up on the Perch, wondered whether he should begin again, and looked down at Maglin for a sign, but Maglin remained in the centre of the clearing, calmly looking towards the entrance of the Royal Pod. He knew Ba-betts of old. She’d be out when she was ready, and not before – though she was probably watching them all even now, through her little spyhole in the wicker wall of the Royal Pod. Or, more likely, getting Doolie to watch for her and report what was happening.

Finally the painted oilcloth was drawn aside and
Ba-betts
, Queen of the Ickri, and therefore of all the Various, appeared. She was dressed in blue – a light blue gown, and a dark blue cape, tipped with squirrel fur. In her right hand she carried the red Touchstone – a sure sign that this was a serious occasion. Doolie, the Queen’s maid, helped her mistress over the lip of the circular entranceway and thence to the edge of the little platform which had been added to the Royal Pod once it had become clear that the Queen was no longer capable of using her wings to reach the ground. Here was suspended, by simple ropes and rough wooden pulleys, a wicker chair, once painted sloe-blue but now rather faded, with carrying handles at either end. It was known as the Gondla, though nobody could remember why.

Doolie lent an arm to Ba-betts as she clambered heavily into the Gondla, which swung to and fro rather alarmingly. Once the Queen was safely seated, she was carefully lowered to the ground by two of the Ickri guard, the wickerwork creaking slightly under the strain. Then, with one guard at each end, the Gondla, with its royal occupant, was lifted by its handles and transported to the edge of the clearing. Here the Queen was placed, in full view of her gathered subjects. She raised the Touchstone high, her white mottled arm quivering slightly with the effort. The rays of the evening sun caught the polished surface of the red jasper globe, and for a moment it seemed as though the squat little figure in the wicker chair was holding aloft an orb of fire. Ba-betts lowered the Touchstone once more. She was ready.

Chapter Seven

‘YOUR QUEEN,’ BEGAN
Ba-betts, in the rather high singsong voice she adopted when looking for sympathy, ‘is not a well Queen.’ She turned to look at the three Counsellors, who stood with their heads bowed, and continued. ‘Your Queen has been taken
from
her sickbed, and brought into the
chill
of the evening – which will surely
do
her more evil than good – in order to attend,’ and here she reverted to her more usual harsh tone, ‘to some trifling matter of runaway goats.’

‘Not run away, my Lady,’ began Crozer, the Elder Ickri Counsellor, ‘and not goats. If you remember . . .’

‘
If I remember?
’ cried Ba-betts, rising from her seat and brandishing the Touchstone threateningly. ‘
If I remember?
I’ll thank
you
, Crozer, to remember your station. I’ll thank
you
to remember that the Queen remembers
everything
! Certainly she remembers
you
, Crozer, for the snivel-snitched little toady you ever were!’ She waved the Touchstone in the direction of Damsk, the Elder Wisp, who looked suitably alarmed. ‘You!’ she cried. ‘Remind all those whose wit may be feeble, of the reason we are Mustered on this
inclement
eve. A full account, mind, that
all
may understand why,’ she sank back into her chair once again, ‘your Queen appears before you,
in
her suffering.’

Damsk bowed and, steadying himself with his staff, he took a step forward. He had an awkward task ahead of him. The truth was that the Counsel had acted, in the matter of the winged horse, without the Queen’s knowledge. Only Maglin and the other tribe leaders had been informed of their decision – and they had been against it. He was now aware that rumours of their action had begun to filter downwards, and it was possible that the Ickri captains also knew, or guessed, what had happened: the Elder Counsel had decided that Pegs, the Naiad horse, should fly to the Far Woods to see if it was possible for the Various to leave their home and start anew. There was no real hope that the distant woodlands would prove to be as protected – by briars and brambles and Gorji neglect – as the Royal Forest, but all possibilities had to be explored, even those that were remote. And the horse had been willing to go. The Queen’s approval should certainly have been sought, but that could have taken a full season perhaps, and time grew short. Now he needed her to believe that she
had
been a party to that decision. Her memory was so erratic, that he might just persuade her that her approval had been given.

‘As you know, my Lady,’ he began, diplomatically addressing Ba-betts first, then gradually turning to face the crowd, ‘and as all here know, the last few winters have been hard. The forest is not what it was
and
game grows short. Neither does the Great Clearing bring forth as once it did. The people have suffered,’ here he turned to the Queen, ingratiatingly, ‘and my Lady has suffered with them. Aye, and
for
them. Summer is here, and once again the times are more plentiful, but if we, the Various, are to face another such winter as the last, then we’ve to find new pastures, or new ways to make our woods rich in provender once more.’

Damsk paused, and considered his next words carefully. ‘It was decided, as my Lady will recall, that Pegs, the Naiad horse – bred by Spindra of the Naiad, and a strong flyer – would go to search for fresh pastures, to explore the far woodlands at night . . .’

‘What foolishness was this?’ interrupted the Queen. ‘To explore
what
lands, pray? All lands are Gorji lands, but for the Royal Forest. Did you think to move the Various, unnoticed, into the very midst of the giants? I knew
nothing
of this. Why was I not told?’

Damsk sighed inwardly. This was the danger with Ba-betts. One moment she was like a sick chi’ with a wandering mind, and the next she was as sharp as an arrow. He knew, as the Counsel had known when they had discussed it, that to send Pegs off to explore other areas of woodland, with the idea of transporting the Various thither, was hopelessness indeed. The Gorji were everywhere nowadays. But the Counsel had needed to find a solution, or to at least act as though they believed that there was a solution to be found. Yet they knew, and Maglin knew, and the other tribe leaders knew, that the Various were facing a slow
extinction
. Not this year, nor the next perhaps, but eventually it would come. Who would openly say it though? Not he.

‘We believed, my Lady, that the horse might return with news of the other woods hereabouts, which we can see from our own treetops, not so very distant, and which . . .’ Damsk began to improvize, ‘ . . . which, as you so wisely suggested, could be
visited
, rather than inhabited, and perhaps then harvested under cover of night.’

No such plan had been discussed, either by Queen or Counsel, but it sounded just plausible – a possibility. There was a faint murmur from the crowd. What confusion was this? For the most part they believed that Pegs had simply disappeared. What was this expedition into the Gorji lands?

Ba-betts was confused again, having lost the thread, but thought that she might remember a meeting . . . ‘Ah yes,’ she said, ‘harvesting at night. And what does the horse say? Yay, or nay?’ There were some stifled sniggers from the crowd at this, and even old Damsk was struggling to keep a straight face, though nobody knew it save he.

‘The horse has not returned, my Lady. Pegs has been two days gone. It is my belief that we should send a party to seek him out.’

Glim snorted with exasperation. This was foolishness upon foolishness. To send Pegs in the first place had been an addle-headed notion – for what possible lands or forests could now be found which were not thick with the Gorji? It was obvious that some ill had
befallen
Pegs, and for that he was sorry, but to now talk of sending more of their number . . . he caught a warning look from Aken and restrained himself, with some effort, from speaking out.

Crozer, seeing that the wily old Damsk had managed the Queen rather skilfully, felt that he should support his fellow Counsellor. ‘I am certain that Damsk is right in this,’ he said, quickly searching for some arguments to support this statement, ‘for Pegs may still be alive, perhaps captured, and may lead the Gorji to us . . . wittingly or unwittingly. We must discover the fate of the Naiad horse, ere we may sleep easily again.’

Ardel, the Elder Naiad, thought that perhaps he might be able to carry this idea a little further. He addressed the Queen. ‘May
I
have permission to speak, my Lady?’ Ba-betts nodded, but muttered, ‘Though let us not still be here at moon-wane, Ardel. The Queen’s patience is short, and your tongue is apt to be long.’

The old Naiad moved falteringly into the circle of the clearing, gripping his staff, his dark brown cloak brushing the ground. He raised his head and stood, twisting the end of his white beard between the tips of his fingers, as he prepared to address the crowd. Ardel, it was true, liked to speak – and opportunities like this were not to be missed.

‘There are two paths,’ he began, his high steady voice sounding much younger than might have been expected, ‘which we may choose from. Where either leads, we cannot foretell, but choose we must. We can
choose
to
act
this day, or we can choose to do nothing. Let us consider each of these paths.’

The sound of an exaggerated yawn was heard, no doubt from one of Scurl’s crew, but Ardel was just climbing into the saddle of his speech and had no intention of dismounting at this point.

‘If we do
not
search for Pegs,’ continued Ardel, ‘then our hopes of gaining knowledge are forfeit. We shall never know whether the Far Woods, which we can see in the distance, are sufficiently untended that we may harvest and take benefit thereof. None but Pegs was strong enough in flight to seek or gain such knowledge. Pegs alone was able to spy out the land and bring us news, and now Pegs has gone. The Ickri may glide’ – here a note of disdain crept into Ardel’s voice – ‘from tree to tree, but only Pegs, of
Naiad
breeding, could truly fly – as a bird may truly fly—’

‘Yes, yes,’ interrupted Ba-betts, irritably. ‘The horse could fly. What is your point, Ardel?’

‘My Lady,
without
such knowledge as Pegs may be able to furnish us with, we are . . .’ he hesitated, then decided to say it, ‘ . . . doomed. The Royal Forest cannot support us for much longer. The woods grow tired and the soil grows thin. Yet we may thrive, even now, if we can harvest
elsewhere
, and still remain here. Fourseason upon fourseason and through many generations, the five tribes have lived in these forgotten woods, protected by the briars we have long nurtured and by the idleness of the Gorji. We have been fortunate to remain undiscovered for so long. But what Crozer says is true. If the Gorji have found
Pegs
, then they will find us. They will come at last.
They will come
. We are in grave danger. We must therefore take the path of action, not of
in
action. We must seek new pastures, aye though it mean treading on Gorji soil, in order to survive; yet we must continue to protect ourselves from discovery. For both of these reasons, we must find Pegs.’

Ardel had expected a noisy reaction to this, but his words were met with a faint murmur and then thoughtful silence. Even Ba-betts seemed, for the moment at least, to be considering the gravity of their situation. Finally, the Queen spoke.

‘No doubt you have a plan to suggest?’

‘I do, my Lady. If we . . .’

‘Then may it keep,’ interrupted Ba-betts. ‘We have heard enough from the Counsellors. Let us hear from the tribe leaders. Maglin! What words do you have to offer in this matter?’

Maglin spoke from his position at the Whipping Stone. ‘My Lady, the Counsellors already know my opinion in this. What is done is done. I can’t see that there be any action worth the risk of taking. To venture out into the Gorji lands would be foolishness. If Pegs be dead, then where’s the sense in sending a party to search for him? If Pegs be captured then I don’t believe he would lead the Gorji to us. He would never speak to ’em – and if he did, I doubt they’d hear or understand. ’Twould be a greater danger to us all to seek him out than to let matters bide.’

‘Very well,’ said Ba-betts, ‘let us hear from the Wisp. Isak – what say you?’

Isak, the small and wiry leader of the Wisp, immediately stepped forward from the line of his tribe, red-faced and obviously itching to speak. There were one or two mutters of ‘Goo on, Isak!’ and ‘You tell ’em, now!’ as he swung his arms and strode out towards the Whipping Stone.