We were just ready to start cooking our food when Dell said, ‘Let’s go.’
‘Now?’ Essa shrieked.
‘Of course,’ the Brownie said. ‘Fearn Keep is just a short way down this path.’
‘Then why did we just break for dinner?’ Essa asked in a tone that made me step out of her way.
‘Because it was dinner time,’ the Brownie said, not realising just how close to death he was.
We all walked on foot in pitch blackness for no more than fifteen minutes before we saw the first glimmer of light from Fearn Keep. I’d like to be able to describe what the Brownie castle looked like but I never really got a good look at it from the outside. There were lights in a dozen or so windows over what seemed like a vast structure but other than that nothing was visible. It was like a blackout street in London during the Blitz. As I got closer I saw that many windows were in fact blacked out with dark draperies that were only faintly outlined by the light within. Welcoming it was not.
Sentries popped out of the blackness like answers on a magic 8-ball. We were expected but I didn’t get the feeling we were wanted.
Across an old-fashioned drawbridge over what I imagined to be an alligator-filled moat, we entered the castle. Dell and what’s-his-name left us without as much as a ‘Bye bye’. The sentries escorted us to four sparse rooms. ='0%'›
No one came to greet us that night. Turlow and Essa each took a separate room, forcing Brendan and me to share a bed. Yogi agreed to sleep in bear form on the floor in Tuan’s room. I’m glad it wasn’t in my room. I’d hate to think what would happen if I woke up in the night and stepped on his paw. We all met before we went to bed and tried to decide if something was amiss or if this was standard Brownie hospitality.
‘Our Brownie guides deliberately slowed us down today,’ Araf said. ‘I believe they didn’t want us to see Fearn Keep in the daylight.’
‘OK, but why?’
‘I didn’t say I had all of the answers,’ Araf replied.
‘What do you think, Turlow?’ Brendan asked.
‘I too think this greeting is strange but apparently strange is the way of the Brownie. I say we sleep on it and see what the morrow brings.’
Back in the room I asked Brendan what his uber-cop senses deduced from Turlow’s answer. ‘Either he is a good liar,’ he said, ‘or he doesn’t know anything.’
‘So, nothing then.’
Brendan conceded my point with a nod.
I dreamt that night Cialtie was talking to the invisible man. I strained to hear what they were saying but, as in the way of dreams, I couldn’t quite make it out. I awoke wondering what I had done to my ego to make myself the invisible man. I worried that my dream was a prediction and I would soon be face to face with my murdering uncle.
We found breakfast outside our doors – water and a couple of apples. Even though apples in The Land are practically my favourite things to eat, it wasn’t like the Brownies knocked themselves out organising a menu.
After our hearty meal, Brendan suggested that we take a stroll outside to test Araf’s theory. Sure enough an armed guard at the end of our corridor informed us that we had to wait in our rooms for information about an audience with the King. I said I understood but just wanted a quick nip of fresh air, but apparently nips or strolls were out of the question.
As we walked back to our room Brendan said, ‘I’m feeling less like a guest and more like an inmate.’
About a half an hour later Essa came back fuming after an attempt to get past the guards. ‘I am going to personally make sure that these people never get a drop of wine from the House of Muhn ever again.’ That was a fate she hadn’t even bestowed on me – and I’d dumped her.
After a lunch of, you guessed it, apples and water, a guard arrived and informed us that the King would grant us an audience in two hours. Essa was fit to burst. Actually, everybody was pretty peeved, including me. And you know me, I don’t like all of the special royal treatment, but these guys were rude on any scale.
Brendan sidled up next to me and whispered in my ear. ‘Do you notice that Turlow is taking this in his stride?’
I hadn’t, but now that he mentioned it, Turlow didn’t look put out at all. Now, I don’t know T Turlow very well but he doesn’t seem to me to be like the kind of royal who lets a snub slide, but there he was sitting with an ‘oh well’ look on his face.
Three hours later an honour guard showed up and informed us that the King would see us now. Araf respectfully asked if he could be excused from the audience due to a foot injury that he sustained the day before. It was the first I had heard about it.
‘Are you OK, big guy? Why didn’t you tell us before?’
‘I did not wish to burden the group. It is nothing, Conor. It would simply be uncomfortable for me to stand for a long period. You go ahead.’
I was worried about my Imp buddy. He had never once complained about anything and I’d seen him get hit in the head with rocks. I was about to speak again, when he gave me a slight shake of the head that stopped the words in my throat. He was up to something and now was not the time to find out what.
‘You take it easy, pal,’ I said, patting him on his rock-like arms. ‘Take a load off your feet.’
We were escorted through a series of damp hallways. Even though I wouldn’t want to live here, I really liked the look of Fearn Keep. It was like a castle from an old black and white horror film. The walls were made of dark, rough stone built into long, not quite straight, corridors. Torchlight threw dancing shadows through periodic archways, making each corner feel like a place where a vampire might pop out.
We arrived at an open room and were instructed to wait at huge alder wood double doors. On the doors was carved a relief of an alder tree growing on top of a hill that seemed very much like the mound that Castle Duir was built on. A bulky Brownie informed us that we would have to be searched before entering the Hall of the Fearn Throne. Essa by this time was livid and threatened to break any finger that touched her. I pleaded with her to calm down. I pointed out that the last time the Brownies came to Castle Duir I had their luggage searched and this was probably retaliation for that. It took me about five minutes but she finally allowed herself to be frisked. Watching that guy pat her down was one of the tensest moments of my life. Turlow produced and unhooked his Banshee blade and surrendered it without a word. The guard found my throwing blade in my sock. I really had forgotten it was there but the guard didn’t look like he believed me. I handed it to him and asked for a receipt. I got a blank stare worthy of Araf.
King Bwika’s throne room didn’t disappoint. It was as spooky and as overblown as I expected it to be. There were huge tapestries, long rugs, ranks of soldiers in full armour standing at attention and a built-up platform on which the King sat, looking like a fat little kid, in a huge wooden throne. There were no other chairs. On either side of the King stood a dozen or so advisers.
We approached slowly on a long red carpet. Even though I am sure it was designed to be intimidating, I had a hard time not snickering. Long before we reached a comfortable conversational distance the King shouted, ‘Prince of Duir.’ I looked around to everybody, grimaced and stepped lively to the fore.
When I got to the bottom of the dais I bowed a low one and said, ‘My lord, greeting in the name of the House of-’
‘You think because you are of Duir you can sneak around my lands at will?’
‘Uh, um,’ was all I got out. I know it’s rare for me but I was at a loss for words. What should I do? I was pretty sure that he shouldn’t have been talking to me like that. I wondered if he would respect me if I stood up for myself, or maybe grovelling was the right way to go. I had no problem with grovelling; I really didn’t want to be kicked out of the kingdom, or for that matter executed. I really, really didn’t want to be executed. I decided to go for a good bow and scrape.
‘I meant no disrespect, Your Highness, and had no intention to trespass.’ I produced the gold bar. ‘See, I have brought you a tribute and have come on a matter of great import.’
The little flash of gold broke his concentration for a second. He motioned to someone on his right and a young man came down the steps to take the gold bar. As he got closer I saw it was the King’s youngest son.
‘Hi, Jesse,’ I said with a smile.
Jesse frowned. He had never told his father about the time that he and his brother had snuck close to the Vinelands and robbed me and Fergal in the night. When I caught up with them and got my stuff back, I gave him
