3 – The Masked Ones
The black thing loomed above the pig-man, darker than the night. He screamed again and staggered backwards. The thing did not move. Thin, white hands crept out of its billowing blackness—hands with long, grasping fingers that had no marks, no lines, no nails.
The fingers twitched. Then smoothly, impossibly, they began to lengthen, snaking forward to fasten around the pig-man’s neck.
The next moment he was jerked off his feet, choking and gurgling, his boots kicking at the sides of the ditch, the torch still clutched in his hand.
The thing shook him, like a dog shaking a rat. The terrible gurgling sounds stopped abruptly, and the pig-man went limp.
The thing tossed him aside. His huge body sailed through the air like a floppy, broken doll and fell heavily into the mud. With a hiss the torch went out, and the ditch was plunged into darkness.
It had all happened in the blink of an eye. Shocked, not daring to move, Lief, Barda and Jasmine crouched in their hiding place. Then, high above them, Kree screeched.
‘Kree says the thing has vanished,’ Jasmine said in a low voice.
And Lief knew that it was so. He was no longer shivering. But cold dread still gripped him like icy, white fingers.
‘It may return at any moment,’ he muttered. ‘We must get into the forest.’
In feverish haste, they pushed forward to the edge of the ditch. Kree flew down to them. He perched on Jasmine’s shoulder and made a low sound.
‘Kree saw the thing in the shadows before the pig-man did,’ Jasmine said. ‘That was why he flew away. He says the shadow thing was not alive. Not alive as we are.’
‘It was alive enough to kill,’ Barda said grimly.
The breeze was still blowing gently. The only sound was the rustling of the leaves.
Something nagged at the edge of Lief’s mind, but he could not quite catch hold of it. His brain was telling him that something had changed. But he was too tired and shocked to think what it was.
Barda lit the lantern again, and the companions slid down into the ditch. It was very deep. Standing at the bottom was like being buried under the earth. Sound was muffled, and the air smelled of damp and slime.
The body of the pig-man lay nearby, face down in the mud. Jasmine darted over to it.
‘Jasmine!’ Barda hissed angrily.
Jasmine ignored him. She bent over the mud-smeared body for a long moment. Then, rapidly, she patted the animal skins that swathed it. Something rustled, and she drew out a bundle of green papers.
Barda lowered the lantern. By its glow they read the words on the paper at the top of the bundle.
Jasmine flicked through the other papers. They were all the same.
‘So now we know his name, and how he earned his living,’ she said. ‘But how he died, I cannot tell. His neck does not seem to be broken. It is as though his heart just—stopped.’
Lief’s scalp was crawling. ‘Let us get away from here!’ he said hoarsely.
‘It is too late for that!’ a sharp voice barked.
Very startled, Lief, Barda and Jasmine looked up.
And there, standing looking down at them from the edge of the ditch, stood two grotesque figures.
A man with the head of an eagle. A woman with the head of a fox.
And behind them was a crowd—a crowd of beings that were all half-human, half-beast.
The music has stopped! Lief thought wildly. That is what I noticed at the edge of the ditch. The pig-man must have come from the camp in the forest. They heard his screams. And now they think—
‘Madaras!’ cried the fox-woman shrilly.
Instantly all the animal people behind her leaped into the ditch. Kree took flight. Lief, Barda and Jasmine fell beneath the press of a dozen struggling bodies.
They fought valiantly. But against so many, they had no chance.
In minutes, the companions were being dragged through the forest. Their weapons had been taken. Dozens of hands held them fast. Their captors jostled all around them, talking angrily in a strange language. The only words Lief could make out were two names—’Otto’ and, repeated over and over again, ‘Bess’.
‘You are making a mistake!’ Lief shouted. ‘We did not kill Otto. He—’
‘Save your lies, bareface spy!’ snarled the eagle-man from behind him. ‘You will rue the day you crossed the line of the Masked Ones.’
‘The Masked Ones!’ Lief heard Barda exclaim.
‘Ah, yes! Pretend you did not know!’ the eagle-man jeered.
Masks! Lief thought, with a shock. He looked around at his captors.
Their heads looked so real! But now he could see what should have been obvious to him all along.
These people were all wearing masks! Amazing masks, that covered their heads closely, fitting like a second skin.
‘Lat as kall tam na, Quill!’ growled a short woman with the head of a frog.
‘Na! Bess mast say tam,’ the eagle-man muttered.
Lights became visible through the trees, and moments later the companions were being dragged into a crowded clearing. A great fire blazed in the centre. There was the smell of cooking, and a confused roar of sound.
A huge banner had been stretched between two trees. It flapped lightly in the breeze.
Everywhere, masked people were shaking their fists, shouting and wailing. Lief glimpsed a wolf face, a rat face, the face of a ginger cat, and several bird heads.
A grinning, hairy mask with small black eyes twitched into view. It belonged to a ragged boy who had wormed his way through the legs of the crowd to stare at the prisoners.
The face was full of cunning. Lief knew that he had seen something like it before, but could not think where. He only knew that he distrusted it.
Among the trees that surrounded the clearing stood many wooden wagons. Washing lines strung with clothes sagged between them. Big grey horses with plaited manes gazed curiously at the shouting people.
Suddenly the crowd parted to reveal a wagon standing all by itself in a bright circle of light created by dozens of lanterns.
In front of the wagon, seated in an huge chair with gold-painted arms, was an enormous woman.
Somehow Lief knew that this was Bess.
She was vast—at least twice as large as the pig-man. Her billowing purple skirts were like silken tents. Her fringed, embroidered shawls were as large as bed sheets. Her great arms jangled with bracelets as big as the wheels of a small cart.
And her head was the head of a vast brown owl.
Lief only had time for a single, startled glance before he was thrown forward. He fell heavily, face down, in the dust at the owl-woman’s feet. Jasmine and Barda thudded to the ground beside him.
‘Whar as Otto?’ he heard a deep voice demand hoarsely.
‘Otto as dad, Bess!’ Lief heard the fox-woman cry out. ‘Tay kalled am!’
Why, they are not really speaking a different language at all! Lief thought. ‘It just sounds different. They use an ‘a’ sound in place of ‘e’, ‘i’ ‘o’ and ‘u’ in all words except names. And they use ‘t’ instead of ‘th’. The owl-woman said, ‘Where is Otto?’ The fox-woman answered, ‘Otto is dead, Bess! They killed him!’
The stretcher bearing the lifeless body of the pig-man was carried into the circle of light. The panting bearers put the stretcher down and backed away.
Bess looked down at the body. Her great fists clenched.
‘Gat tam ap!’ she growled. ‘Lat may say tayar aglay fasas!’ She drew a long, narrow knife from the silken folds of her skirt.
‘Lief! She is going to cut our throats!’ Barda muttered, as the crowd’s noise rose. ‘Tell her who you are. Show her the Belt. It is our only chance…’
His voice trailed off as he was hauled to his feet. At the same moment, Lief himself was jerked upward.
His legs would not hold him. Head bowed, he sagged between his captors.
Tell her who you are. Show her the Belt… It is our only chance.
Slowly, Lief looked up.
The owl-woman gasped, and her hand flew to her heart.
‘Bede!’ she shrieked. ‘Bede, ma san!’ She threw the knife aside and began struggling to rise from her chair.
Dead silence had fallen in the clearing. Lief stood gaping. What had she said?
Bede, my son!
Tears pouring from her eyes, Bess held out her arms to him.
Someone pushed him from behind and he stumbled forward. The owl-woman seized him. Suddenly he was being crushed in her powerful arms, pressed to her heaving chest.
Gold bracelets dug hard into his spine. He was suffocating in a tangle of silken shawls that smelled strongly of spices, smoke and over-ripe fruit. In panic he struggled to free himself, but the mighty arms clasping him were like steel bands.
‘Bess!’ The harsh voice of the eagle-man seemed to be coming from far away. ‘Stap! Ha as nat Bede! Ha cannat ba Bede!’
Lief felt the huge arms quiver. Then, slowly, they began to loosen. Gasping for breath, he threw himself backwards, and tumbled to the ground.
When at last he looked up, Bess was lying back in her chair, panting. Her eyes were closed. The eagle-man stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder.
‘Confess!’ he shouted at Lief, Barda and Jasmine. ‘Confess to our leader that you have been sent here to spy upon us and destroy us! Confess that you are servants of the evil tyrant, King Lief of Del!’
Lief’s heart lurched.
‘We are travellers from Broome!’ Jasmine’s clear voice cried out. ‘My uncle’s name is Berry. My brother and I are Lewin and Jay. We have done nothing wrong!’
‘Lies!’ the eagle-man roared. ‘You broke into our secret field. Then you killed the one who went to find you. We caught you in the act!’
‘No!’ shouted Jasmine. ‘A thing of darkness killed your friend. We saw it!’
The eagle-man laughed scornfully.
Bess’s eyes opened. But she did not look at the eagle-man, or at Jasmine. Instead, she looked at Lief.
‘Is this true?’ she asked, almost gently.
Lief met her gaze squarely. He knew that he had to make the most of her softened mood. He had to convince her.
‘It is true,’ he said. ‘The thing was hiding in the ditch. It caught hold of Otto around the neck, and he died. We did not harm him, I swear it!’
‘Ha lays, Bess!’ hissed the eagle-man. ‘Tay ar spays!’
‘We are not spies!’ Lief exclaimed furiously, without thinking.
There was a murmur in the crowd. The eagle-man drew back with a hiss.
‘Then how do you know our tongue, bareface?’ he spat.
Cursing himself for his foolishness, Lief spoke directly to Bess, forcing himself to keep his voice level.
‘I used my ears,’ he said. ‘Your tongue sounded strange to me at first, but soon I found I could understand it.’
And perhaps the great topaz I wear beneath my clothes helped me, he added to himself. The topaz that sharpens the mind. The topaz that has been so powerful ever since the golden dragon came back to life.
But Bess had leaned forward, her eyes shining.
‘Of course!’ she breathed. ‘It comes naturally to you. Now I see—’
She broke off, and shook her head. ‘Ay mast nat bay hastay,’ she murmured to herself. ‘Ay mast bay shar…’
She raised her voice. ‘Lock them in Otto’s wagon,’ she ordered, gesturing at the prisoners. ‘I will examine his body. Then I will decide what is to be done.’