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Authors: Belinda Murrell

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BOOK: Voyage of the Owl
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‘I had better cook the eggs and bacon,’ grinned Ethan. ‘Rowan’s not such a good cook. His mother never taught him how!’

Roana pulled a face, but obediently started to use the large dagger to carve thick slices of bread and slather them with butter. Otto huffed over to the table and flopped down, glowering at everyone in the cabin, including Fox.

Ethan started frying long strips of streaky bacon. When they were cooked he cracked brown speckled eggs from the basket and fried those. Under Fox’s direction, Saxon assembled thick sandwiches of hot bacon, egg and dripping butter. Lily made large enamel mugs of strong, milky coffee.

‘There’s not much room down here,’ suggested Fox. ‘You might want to eat up on deck. Take a couple of these up to Carl and Jack above. By the way, how did you go with my riddle?’

Saxon and Ethan shrugged noncommittally, while Roana frowned and Lily became very interested in a small knot of fur on Charcoal’s neck.

‘Use those brains,’ Fox ordered. ‘That’s why you have them.’

The children grimaced at each other. It was too early for riddles.

Everyone filed up the narrow steps into the
darkness of the cockpit. To the west, the silver moon was setting, while to the east, the pink glimmering on the horizon revealed that it was nearly dawn. Saxon took the provisions aft to the crew, while the others crept forward to find a comfortable seat on the cabin roof, between the two masts.

The tangy salt air, the fresh morning breeze, the slap of waves on the hull and the surging of the schooner through the water combined to create a perfect setting for a shipboard breakfast. Aisha had a platter of bread crusts soaked in pan drippings, bacon rind and egg crumbs. She gobbled this up hungrily, then looked plaintively up at the others, begging for a scrap or two more.

‘Oh, go away, Aisha,’ complained Lily. ‘You’re worse than Saxon. I’m hungry too. You’ve had yours!’

Aisha turned her red-golden back, her black nose in the air, and curled up in a ball with an injured sigh. Charcoal teased Aisha – playing with a crispy bacon rind, patting it with her paws and batting it around the deck, before licking it delicately.

‘I’m offended too, Aisha!’ exclaimed Saxon indignantly. ‘What do you mean “worse than Saxon”, Lily? I don’t stare at everyone with big saucer eyes, hoping they’ll give me food!’

‘Oh no?’ laughed Roana. ‘I’m sure I have seen you looking rather puppyish when it comes to dinnertime!’

The others laughed, licking their fingers and trying to catch the last crumbs. The sandwiches were so good that no-one left any extra scraps for Aisha. They sipped on the coffee, watching the sky turn into a magnificent wash of scarlets, pinks, oranges and golds.

‘What do you think of Fox’s riddle?’ asked Roana. ‘It is driving me insane. I have been thinking and thinking about it, and I cannot see how the farmer can cross the river without the goose or the corn getting eaten. If he takes the fox across first, the goose eats the corn, if he takes the corn first the fox eats the goose, and so on, around and around in circles.’

‘There must be a clever solution,’ Saxon assured them. ‘There always is with riddles. It will come to us at some stage.’

‘I just hope we’re not the geese in the riddle,’ Ethan added. ‘We’re trusting Fox to help us for a pile of gold coins. Let’s hope the Sedahs are not prepared to pay him more.’

‘I think our Fox is trustworthy,’ Lily said. ‘He just feels like a nice man.’

Ethan raised his eyebrows at Saxon, with a small ironic smile. But he felt reassured. Lily had a good sense for people.

After breakfast they washed up, boat style. Saxon tied a soft canvas bucket to a long rope, which he threw over the back of the boat to fill with seawater. They sluiced the frypan and knives, scrubbing them clean. The water sloshed and slopped so much they were all soon saturated.

The cool seawater felt so nice that they splashed and played, getting water everywhere. Saxon tipped an entire bucket over Ethan’s head, who retaliated with a full bucket of his own. Lily and Roana were not to be left out, and soon their clothes were completely soaked.

Otto and Carl stared at them as if they were mad, which only made the children laugh more. Only Charcoal stayed well away, preferring to stay dry.

When they had had enough of splashing and soaking, they all staggered back to the cabin roof again to lie in the sun and dry off. Saxon soon grew restless and suggested that they set off to explore the
Owl
. This did not take long.

The aft of the ship was the storage hold, with a passageway down the centre, and storage bins to each side. These storage bins were used to hold the
treasures smuggled from exotic lands – barrels of brandy and wine, bales of lace and silk, weapons, tobacco and chocolate. The hold was largely empty now, but faint smells lingered of the treasures brought across the sea on the
Owl
’s last voyage.

Also aft was the ship’s stores, with sacks of flour and sugar, boxes of fruit and vegetables, wheels of cheese, barrels of water and rum, and sides of bacon and smoked meat. A thick watertight bulkhead, with a narrow door, separated the hold from the rest of the ship. Next were the steps up to the deck, the berths for Carl and Otto on the right and, to the left, Fox’s cabin. The captain’s cabin was small and spartan, with a narrow bunk, a small navigational desk, a couple of lockers and a washstand.

The main saloon held the large table and benches, with the galley on the starboard side. This led to a tiny space for Jack and the cook to hang their hammocks and store their sea trunks, then at the very front of the ship was the sail locker where the children slept.

After the adventures of the last few weeks, it was incredibly relaxing to be sailing. For the rest of the morning the children curled up on sailbags on the deck and chatted, snoozed, daydreamed and ate, while the
Owl
skimmed over the ocean.

Ethan spied the laughing faces of dolphins, swimming alongside the schooner. They all rushed to the bowsprit and clung to the rigging, watching the dolphins surfing below. There was only a thin strut of timber holding their weight, and below was the dizzying, surging power of the ocean. The dolphins smiled and laughed, jumping clear out of the water as if showing off for the entertainment of the humans above.

Aisha barked and lunged at the side of the boat, her tail wagging, unsure what these strange creatures were.

At last the dolphins peeled away from the
Owl
and dived deep under the water. The children returned once more to their sailbag cushions to speculate about the Moon Pearl and the
Sea Dragon
. Where could they be?

At first light, Sniffer was once again down on the beach at Ainsley, with Burgis tailing him everywhere he went. The beach was a scene of carnage – tables overturned, platters smashed, chairs broken, dead wildflowers churned into the sand.

Sniffer scoured the sand carefully. There were hundreds of footprints, running back and forth. There were stilt marks and handprints from where the acrobats had tumbled and walked on their hands. There were animal prints from the nighttime scavengers who had come to clean up the dropped food.

Slowly, methodically, Sniffer searched, snuffling and whispering to himself. Burgis always crept a few metres behind. At last Sniffer found a scuffle of prints that seemed promising, over by the overturned tables. It looked like several people had hurriedly crawled on hands and knees. Occasionally, overlaying the crawling scuffles, was a large pawprint.

Moving faster now, Sniffer followed the tracks. On a bush he found a snagged hair. The hair was long and curly and honey blonde. He smiled, sniffing it lovingly. He tucked the hair away in his pocket, next to the other one he had found in the palace dumbwaiter.

Sniffer observed where the four children had stood up and started to run, the prints sinking deep into the soft sand. He recognised the footprints – one set large and broad, one slightly smaller, one narrow with a high arch, one small and sturdy.

He observed where a fifth person, a tall man, had intercepted them and then joined them. He followed the prints until they finally walked down into the sea and disappeared completely.

Sniffer rubbed his head. He had lost them. He had lost them again. Governor Lazlac would be
angry. Governor Lazlac would be furious. Governor Lazlac did not tolerate mistakes.

‘Where are they?’ asked Burgis excitedly, coming up next to Sniffer.

‘Swallowed by the sea,’ spat Sniffer. ‘Oh, for Krad’s sake, couldn’t you have a bath? You stink!’

Down in the palace dungeons, Queen Ashana, Lord Mortimer, Willem, Marnie and their fellow prisoners had just eaten from a steaming pail of porridge, sweetened with cream and honey. This delicious breakfast had been partially disguised by an overlay of bread crusts, apple peel, strawberry tops and cherry pips.

Once again Willem had found a crust of mouldy bread, with a floury note wedged inside it.

My Dearest Cookie,

Our friend Rowan safely embarked on his sea journey last night, only slightly delayed, and was most grateful for the fresh eggs you sent with him. He believes it will be two or
three weeks before he returns to Tira, but he plans to bring you back a thank you gift.

Your loving brother,
Albert.

Willem glowed with secret excitement. Their friend in the kitchens was still looking after them, and it seemed as though the children were safely away.

Things got better still when a contingent of Sedah guards arrived at the dungeon door. There was a sound the prisoners had not heard in weeks. A rattle, a clunk and a click. Then the door swung slowly open. Lieutenant Foulash and Captain Malish stood there, wrinkling their noses against the stink of the filthy cell. Captain Malish saluted mockingly.

‘Ashana. Mortimer,’ Captain Malish snarled. ‘For some reason, Governor Lazlac has decided to show you some leniency. He is worried about your health. You are to be taken up into the herb garden for half an hour each day.”

Marnie gasped in pleasure, thinking of plants and sunshine and fresh air. Willem gripped her hand tightly.

‘You will be accompanied by thirteen guards,’ Captain Malish continued. ‘If you try to escape, you will be killed. If you try to talk to anyone from the palace, you will be killed. If you move a muscle out of line, you will be killed. Do I make myself clear?’

Queen Ashana inclined her head slightly.

‘Follow me then,’ growled Captain Malish.

Queen Ashana lifted her skirts, for all the world as if she were in the palace reception hall, and not in a filthy dungeon. She swept out of the cell, her head held high in the air. Her ladies followed suit.

Captain Malish ground his teeth in annoyance. Willem and Marnie were the last to leave. The group was hustled down the dark corridor, through the circular guardroom that formed the hub of the underground tunnels, and up the narrow, grimy spiral stairs. The stairs came up into the base of the south-western tower. This small guardroom was also heavily fortified and guarded.

The soldiers scouted ahead to check that the way was clear, then the prisoners were jostled outside through a narrow door. After weeks of imprisonment, the climb up the stairs was exhausting. After weeks in the darkness, the sunshine was blinding. After weeks of stench and filth, the fresh, clean air was overwhelming.

One of the ladies swooned. Another stumbled and fell. Queen Ashana swayed unsteadily on her feet but was held up by one of the gentlemen-in-waiting. The guards lifted their pike staffs to beat the two ladies to their feet. Willem and Marnie rushed to help the fallen women.

The sorry party stumbled and swayed, helping each other, as they moved out into the sunshine. The guards led them to a walled herb garden, near the main kitchen gardens.

The garden had stone pathways laid out in lovers’ knots. Sweet-scented herbs spilled out of the carefully tended beds. Butterflies and bees danced in the air, shimmering in the warm spring air. Stone pots in the centre of each bed held bay trees clipped into inverted cones, and hedges of lavender and rosemary bloomed against the high stone walls.

Queen Ashana and her ladies collapsed on a wooden bench against the wall. Queen Ashana closed her eyes, breathing in the warm, scented air.

The Sedah guards checked that the gateway at the far end was locked and bolted. Seven guards came into the herb garden to watch the prisoners, while the gate behind them was also locked. Other guards stood watch outside.

Marnie breathed deeply, greedily devouring the garden’s sights, smells, sounds and tastes. She sank to her knees beside one of the lovers’ knots, sinking her fingertips into the rich, warm earth.

‘Willem, I need your help,’ Marnie whispered. ‘We need to gather some herbs.’

While the ladies and gentlemen of the court languished in the shade, enjoying the fresh air, Marnie and Willem set to work.

Marnie dug up whole fat knobs of garlic and hid them in the pocket of her apron. She picked sprigs of mint, parsley, chives, chamomile, valerian and thyme and tucked them away. She even pulled up the flat wide leaves and yellow flowers of dandelions, growing in the cracks of the pathways. From the hedges along the wall she picked a huge armful of lavender and rosemary, which she laid in the shade. Willem helped her, picking everything as she directed.

The guards by the gateway had noticed the busy gardening of the husband and wife. One of the young guards raised his pike staff threateningly. An older guard stopped him, lifting his eyebrows, shrugging and twisting his finger next to his temple. The other guards laughed.

‘Too much time underground,’ joked one. ‘The peasants feel the need to weed and get their fingers muddy. You can tell the aristocracy, lolling on their thrones!’

Marnie flushed slightly at the teasing but kept up her work, her fingers stained green and brown, and smelling of mulch. When Marnie had collected enough herbs, she started to walk up and down, her eyes sweeping the ground.

After a few minutes, her sharp brown eyes spied a treasure. Marnie stooped to pick it up with a cry of delight. In her palm were two rusty iron nails. She slipped them into her pocket with the garlic. Meanwhile Willem had discovered a barrel of rainwater hidden in the far corner, with a couple of watering cans stored beside it.

‘Marnie,’ he called softly. ‘Water!’

Marnie walked quickly to the barrel. She trickled soft, clean water from the watering can over her filthy hands. She shivered with delight.

Quickly both of them splashed themselves clean with water, soaking their clothes, rubbing their faces, hands and arms, combing their tangled hair with slick wet fingers. The water washed away weeks of despair and darkness. Their skin tingled anew with hope and happiness.

Marnie walked briskly back to the queen’s resting place.

‘Your majesty,’ she whispered in a gentle voice. ‘Why don’t you come and wash? You will feel much better. And you should try to walk around while we are here.’

‘A wash!’ smiled Queen Ashana. ‘I have never bathed in a garden before, but it sounds like a delightful idea.’

While the courtiers and Queen Ashana washed, Marnie and Willem walked up and down the herb garden, drying their clothes and breathing in the fresh air and sunshine. Too soon, the half an hour was over and the guards, with much shouting, pushing and swearing, escorted them back into the suffocating darkness underground.

They rolled their eyes and sniggered at Marnie carrying an armload of lavender and rosemary, the former queen with her silken skirts still damp from her garden toilette, and Willem carrying a small watering can sloshing over with fresh rainwater. They did not even notice that Marnie had a pocketful of garlic, green herbs, and two rusty iron nails.

Back in the dungeon, the ladies sank once more into their corner, sighing and crying. The
gentlemen started playing a complicated gambling game with pebbles, sticks and pieces of straw.

Marnie set to work. Using her fingernails, she peeled the garlic and separated it into plump cloves. Using the iron nail she shredded the garlic as finely as she could and dropped it into the watering can of water. Next she shredded her herbs, tearing them into tiny pieces. These too were dropped into the watering can. Lastly she dropped the two iron nails into the thick green brew.

Lord Mortimer reclined in his corner, watching Marnie with sardonic eyes.

When Marnie had emptied her pockets, she turned to the bunches of rosemary and lavender. Several branches of both plants were stripped of their leaves and flowers, which were tossed into the watering can. A rich aroma of crushed leaves filled the cell, clearing the air of its filthy fug. Marnie stirred the brew in the watering can with one of the denuded twigs.

Lord Mortimer curled his lip in disdain.

Marnie gathered up the armful of fragrant lavender and rosemary and began to strew it around the cell, over the piles of stinking damp straw.

Lord Mortimer laughed mockingly.

‘Oh wily witch, what spells and potions are you brewing for us now?’ he sneered. ‘A spell to blow open the dungeon door and get us out of here, I trust?’

Marnie flushed pink, but continued her work.

‘No, merely a simple spell, as you call it, to banish fleas and lice,’ she retorted. ‘Insects hate the smell of lavender and rosemary, while for us mere humans it banishes, at least temporarily, the stench of urine.’

‘And what of the disgusting potion you are brewing?’ Lord Mortimer said disbelievingly. ‘Some magical brew to overcome the guards?’

‘No,’ Marnie replied evenly. ‘A simple tisane to help us regain our health in this dreadful hellhole. None of us has eaten anything nutritious for weeks. While we have had a couple of better meals in the last day or so, we must be sadly lacking in iron and other herbal essences. By drinking my potion, as you call it, we can maintain our strength and our wellbeing.’

‘Pah,’ spat Lord Mortimer. ‘I would rather die than drink that foul goop – that revolting concoction of weeds and rubbish. I doubt very much it will do anything but give me stomach cramps. You can drink my share.’

Lord Mortimer turned his back towards Marnie and resumed filing his nails.

Queen Ashana had more faith in Marnie’s power
as a healer, having seen her curative power at work. That evening, after Marnie had left her watering can potion to brew for ten hours, Queen Ashana bravely gulped some down. Some of the others followed suit, while some agreed with Lord Mortimer and preferred not to try the slimy, green potion.

Willem was inspired by the break in monotony, and the smell of the outdoors, to do some exercise. Instead of his usual vitality and strength, he felt old and tired, his muscles flabby and wasted. Willem encouraged Marnie and Queen Ashana to walk with him, doing laps of the cell. Willem stretched and lifted a loose stone. His weak muscles screamed against the unaccustomed usage. But he was determined to regain his strength, and help Marnie and Queen Ashana regain theirs.

Whether it was the fresh air and sunshine, the cold wash in the rainwater, the exercise, the sweet scent of lavender, or Marnie’s magic potion, Willem, Marnie and Queen Ashana slept better that night than they had in weeks. Each one slept long and deep, with gentle dreams and no nightmares to waken them. They slept with hope in their hearts.

BOOK: Voyage of the Owl
8.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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