Dragon's Nest

11 - Signs of Trouble

The road quickly narrowed to a rough, winding path. After more than an hour there was still no sign of Ringle or its outlying farms.

The ground on the left of the path began to fall away steeply. At last, the travellers found themselves being forced to ride in single file, with a steep, rocky hill on one side, and a jagged chasm on the other.

Lief reined in Honey and called a halt. ‘I think someone must have tampered with that signpost at the crossroads,’ he called, looking down at the fearsome drop on his left. ‘This is surely not the way to Ringle.’

‘I agree,’ Barda rumbled from behind him. ‘I fear we have been led to End Wood Gap. The post was leaning badly. No doubt it was loosened when it was turned around.’

‘But who would do such a thing?’ exclaimed Jasmine in irritation.

Barda shrugged. ‘Some lout with a tiny brain, who thought it amusing to mislead travellers.’

But Lief was not sure it was as simple as that. The ruby and the emerald in the Belt of Deltora were still as dull as river stones. His skin prickled with the awareness of danger, with the feeling that someone or something was wishing him ill.

On an impulse, he lowered his hand and pressed his fingers against the ruby. He shut his eyes, and with all his strength thought of the ruby dragon.

‘Wherever you are sleeping, dragon, awake!’ he whispered. ‘I summon you! The Belt of Deltora summons you!’

He opened his eyes. Nothing had changed. Nothing moved on the rocky hill, or in the chasm. The sky was blank and empty.

‘We will go back,’ he muttered. Impatiently he tried to turn Honey around, but the horse reared and snorted in terror as the earth at the edge of the narrow path crumbled under her hoofs.

Jasmine, Barda, Rolf and the guards shouted with one voice. Dirt and stones showered to the depths below.

Lief held on grimly, turning Honey’s head to face the front once more, urging her on till she found sure footing and at last stood trembling but safe on firm ground.

Sick with relief he patted her, speaking to her softly, cursing his own foolishness.

‘It is not safe to turn the horses here,’ said Barda unnecessarily. Lief turned in the saddle to glance at him. The big man’s face was beaded with sweat.

At a word from Jasmine, Kree took flight. He soared upward, made a great circle above their heads, and moments later was back, squawking harshly.

‘Kree says that ahead there is a bridge over the Gap,’ Jasmine said, ignoring the fascinated stares of the guards.

The straggling group moved on again. Sure enough, just around the next bend, where the gap narrowed a little, a rickety wooden bridge straddled the sickening drop. A roughly painted sign stood beside it.

The companions looked at the sign in silence, then glanced at one another. Barda raised his eyebrows. Lief and Jasmine nodded.

‘So that is how it is,’ said Barda grimly.

Lief bit his lip. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I have feared it for some time. This is the proof.’

By now the guards at the head of the troop had seen the sign, and the dreaded words ‘Forests of Silence’ were passing in whispers down the line. Rolf had shrunk down in his saddle, his eyes wide and fearful.

‘We will have to lead the horses across, sir,’ Brid called to Barda. ‘They will need coaxing. Will I tell the men to dismount?’

‘No,’ Barda growled, without turning around. ‘I do not think we will be crossing this bridge. I think we will be going on.’

Brid sat rigidly, eyes straight ahead. He was plainly dismayed, but was too well-trained to complain about his chief’s order.

Rolf, however, gave a high, strangled cry. ‘We cannot go on!’ he squealed. ‘You cannot lead us into the Forests of Silence to die!’

Barda swung down from his horse. He strode to the sign and ran his fingers over it thoughtfully.

As his men watched intently he pulled his large hunting knife from his belt. Then, gently but firmly, he began to scrape the face of the sign.

Curls of gleaming white paint fell to the ground as he worked. And when he stood aside, the guards gasped.

‘So,’ Barda said, rubbing his knife on his leggings to remove the shreds of paint still clinging to the blade. ‘It is as we thought. Not content with leading us astray, someone painted over the bridge sign to try to put an end to us. It is fortunate that this was done so recently, and so clumsily, that we saw through the trick at once. Otherwise …’

Frowning, he sheathed his knife and picked up a large rock. He threw the rock onto the first few planks of the bridge. The bridge groaned, but held firm.

Barda lifted another rock. This time he threw it further, so that it landed towards the bridge’s centre.

At once, several rotten timbers gave way, the bridge jolted and sagged, and the rock plummeted down, smashing into pieces on the ground far below.

There were muffled groans as everyone present imagined what would have happened if Lief, Barda and Jasmine had led the way across the bridge. Nothing was said as Barda re-mounted his horse.

The party plodded on, this time with the companions in the lead. Rolf and the guards turned often, looking back at the ruined bridge until it was out of sight. But Lief, Barda and Jasmine did not look back at all. They were talking together in low voices.

If any were curious about their conversation, that curiosity remained unsatisfied. Barda had let the lead rein on Rolf’s horse out as far as it would go, creating a gap between the three and all their followers, so no-one could hear what they said.

Gradually the Gap became narrower, and in time, as the sign had promised, the travellers reached another bridge.

Here the path ended, and not far ahead the Gap was swallowed up by a forbidding mass of trees. All guessed that this was End Wood, the last of the three Forests of Silence.

On the other side of the bridge a narrow road wound away into the distance. The bridge itself looked sturdy and almost new. A carved stone stood proudly beside it.

‘Now, listen carefully,’ said Barda, raising his voice so everyone could hear. ‘Twice, signs on our path have been altered. We believe these were deliberate attempts to injure us. We have decided, therefore, that our party should separate, for the safety of all.’

Rolf made a small sound of protest, then clapped his hand over his mouth. The guards stared.

‘Under Brid’s command, you are to go to the outskirts of Ringle,’ Barda went on. ‘There, without troubling the citizens, you will make camp for the night. Then you will move on to Broome. Is that understood?’

Brid cleared his throat. ‘What of you, sir?’ he asked. ‘You, and the lady Jasmine, and the king?’

‘We will also go to Broome,’ Barda said evenly. ‘But we will go on foot, and by another way.’

Every man’s eyes turned to the forest ahead. Every face filled with dread. Rolf clutched his heart and began to wail.

‘But what of me?’ he howled. ‘What of me?’

‘You will go with the guards,’ said Lief quickly, hearing Jasmine draw breath for a sharp retort. ‘You will be perfectly safe, Rolf, I promise. Is that not so, Brid?’

Brid nodded, his scarred face wooden.

‘Then let us waste no more time.’ Barda clapped Brid on the shoulder. ‘Keep safe,’ he said.

‘And you, sir,’ muttered Brid. A nerve high on his cheek twitched, but he pressed his lips together and said no more. He turned to his men, and began to give orders.

In moments, the guards were moving across the bridge. Brid, leading Rolf’s horse, was at their head. Honey, Bella and Swift, on lead ropes, trailed at the rear.

Lief sighed with relief as the whole party reached the other side in safety. He saw the men turn and wave in farewell, and raised his own arm in response.

‘I hope we are doing the right thing,’ Barda muttered. ‘Brid clearly thinks we are mad.’

Jasmine snorted. ‘Brid thinks anything out of the ordinary is mad,’ she said. ‘He is so dull!’

‘Brid survived ten years as a slave in the Shadowlands,’ Barda said quietly. ‘No doubt this made him thoughtful.’

Jasmine bit her lip. ‘I did not mean to insult him,’ she said. ‘But you should not let his disapproval shake you, Barda. This is our best chance of losing our enemy, and reaching Broome without endless delays.’

She sighed. ‘It is a pity we had to let the horses go, but we had no choice. Horses cannot sleep in trees as we can.’

Filli chattered agreement, delighted to be rid of the large creatures who had jolted him about so painfully.

Barda groaned. The idea of sleeping in the fork of a tree did not appeal to him at all.

Lief said nothing. He was startled to find that, despite everything, he was feeling extremely happy.

Am I as mad as Brid thinks? he wondered. There is nothing to be happy about!

But he was happy. Yes, he was worried by what had passed. Yes, he knew that danger lay ahead. But as for the present—why, he felt like singing as he stood with Jasmine and Barda, watching the guards move away.

Watching the guards move away …

And that, he thought suddenly, must be the answer.

The guards were always very respectful to him. They regarded him with awe. But this did not please him. Instead, it made him feel like a fraud. It made him terribly aware of just how young he was, in comparison with them. And it made him feel that he had to act like a king, at all times, so as not to shock or disappoint them.

Now, however, with only Jasmine and Barda for company, he could be himself. He was free.

He felt as if his blood was fizzing in his veins. As if the air was sweeter, and the colours in the world brighter, than they had been before.

‘Come on!’ he shouted. And began running towards the Forest.