Read Charlie Bone And The Red Knight (Children Of The Red King, Book 8) Online
Authors: Jenny Nimmo
And so they set off again, Dagbert falling into step beside Charlie.
What should we call him now?
Charlie wondered. Because Dagbert no longer had the fishy smell that made people hold their noses whenever he was near. His skin had lost its green tinge, although it was very pale. Charlie couldn't imagine what it must be like to lose your father in such a dramatic way. "Water boy," he tried out, murmuring to Dagbert. "Can you still... you know?"
Dagbert nodded. "I haven't lost THAT!"
There was a distant shout. Looking back, Charlie saw Runner Bean bounding toward them. Benjamin and Fidelio were following fast behind.
"Uncle!" Charlie called to Paton, who, together with Mrs. Kettle, was leading the group. "There are two more of us -- and a dog."
Uncle Paton stopped and the group behind him came to a sudden halt. They all turned to the two boys racing up to them. Fidelio and Benjamin arrived, gasping for breath and grinning, while Runner Bean bounced around, joyfully barking his head off.
"You left without us!" Benjamin complained.
"Maisie told us where you were heading," added Fidelio. "You might have let us know."
Lysander stepped forward and said, "Sorry, guys. You can't come. You're not endowed."
"So what?" said Fidelio.
"You won't be safe," said Tancred. "You need protection."
"We've got Runner Bean," Benjamin said stoutly, "and we won't be left out."
"What about your parents?" Alice asked gently. "Did you tell them what you were about to do?"
"We left notes." Fidelio glared at them defiantly. "And we're coming. So that's that."
"I'm sorry, boys," Uncle Paton began, "but you --"
He was cut short by an explosive crash from behind. The traffic lights had toppled over and now straddled the intersection. The lights themselves had broken off the pole and lay in the middle of the road. The misty figures of Mrs. Branko and the twins could just be made out, standing beside the fallen lights.
"We can't go back now," Fidelio said happily. "So you'd better let us join you."
The three adults accepted this, and Benjamin and Fidelio tagged on behind Charlie. He had to admit that he was glad to have his two best friends with him on what he guessed might be the longest day of his life. They were now a group of fourteen, if you counted Runner Bean.
On they went. Everyone had fallen silent again, but at their backs the Brankos were doing their worst. Chimneys toppled, signs fell from shop windows, doors caved in. Charlie tried to ignore the sounds. And then suddenly one of the lampposts just ahead fell to the sidewalk, its glass shattering into thousands of tiny shards. This was too much for Uncle Paton. Leaping into the road, he glared at the Brankos before lifting his gaze to a lighted window high in a building beside the telekinetic family. With a deafening explosion, the windowpane burst, showering the Brankos with glass. Yelling and cursing, they retreated down the street.
"We'll get a bit of peace while they're licking their wounds," said Uncle Paton, resuming his steady march up High Street.
When they passed the square that led to Bloor's Academy, Charlie half expected Manfred and Mrs. Tilpin to come racing out. But no one appeared. A little later he became aware that two more people had joined their ranks. Looking over his shoulder, Charlie was astonished to see Dr. Saltweather and Señor Alvaro.
"Dr. Saltweather, I didn't know... ," said Charlie.
Lysander, Gabriel, and Tancred turned and stared at the two teachers. Emma and Olivia just gaped.
"Let's go!" Dr. Saltweather commanded. "Don't stop for us."
Señor Alvaro smiled at Charlie, saying, "Forward, Charlie Bone."
Their pupils ran to catch up with Paton, Mrs. Kettle, and Alice, who were all striding purposefully onward, though Billy had stopped for a moment to speak to Runner Bean.
The Heath lay on their left, just beyond Bloor's Academy. It was a wide stretch of tough grass and low, windblown shrubs, over a mile long. In the distance a line of rocks protruded from the earth like the spines of a great serpent. The fog made them appear almost to float above the ground. The whole place seemed to be deserted. There was no sign of the Red Knight. The group stood at the edge of the road, watching and waiting.
A warning growl rumbled in Runner Bean's throat and then they saw the dogs. Two rottweilers were bearing down on them from the direction of the Heights. They looked like the most bloodthirsty dogs Charlie had ever seen. He imagined their great teeth tearing into his flesh, into everyone who stood there too stunned to move. Behind the dogs came Dorcas Loom and her two large brothers.
"Go on, Brutus! Go on, Rhino! Get 'em!" urged the brothers.
Runner Bean snarled bravely, encircling his people protectively, but they all knew he didn't stand a chance against the rottweilers. For a moment, no one could think what to do. Mrs. Kettle had drawn her sword, and Tancred was already calling up a storm, but even as the rain began to fall, Billy Raven suddenly stepped forward, whining, barking, and howling at the two savage dogs.
The rottweilers stopped abruptly, dropped to their haunches, and began to whine back at Billy.
"What was he saying?" Dagbert whispered.
"Haven't a clue," said Charlie. "But it seems to be working."
The Looms were furiously egging on their dogs to attack, but all at once, the rottweilers turned and leaped at their owners, their strong teeth sinking into bone and sinew. With piercing screams, Dorcas collapsed and then her brothers fell to the ground, one on top of the other. The rottweilers paced around the three forms, growling dangerously. When they were satisfied that their victims no longer posed a threat to their new master, they trotted up to Billy and licked his hands.
"Well done!" said Billy, first in his own language and then in theirs.
"Yes, well done, Billy," said Uncle Paton, and the group echoed his words, cheering, "Well done, Billy! Well done!"
Billy grinned and patted the dogs' heads.
"Three down and two to go," Charlie said, almost to himself.
"You're thinking of Manfred and Joshua," said Tancred. "But don't forget Mrs. Tilpin."
"And Eric. We can't forget him. Look!" Lysander pointed at the fog that swirled above the field. And they saw that the shapes they had taken for rocks were now moving forward. As they came closer, the floating forms solidified into what appeared to be huge, lumbering creatures.
"Eric!" said Charlie. "What do we do now?"
"Stop them," said Tancred.
There was a violent clap of thunder, and a bolt of lightning shot through the fog, cracking into the skull of one of the stone beasts. It made no difference. The creatures came on and now they could see a small figure prancing before the line of beasts, drawing them forward, animating them to such a degree that they were not lumbering but running, their great feet sending shock waves through the earth.
Tancred had taken off his jacket and was now whirling it above his head. His yellow hair sparkled as a gale force wind tore into the fog. It thinned and lifted, revealing something they would rather not have seen.
The fog had hidden a ghostly army of trolls and beings that could be only half human. Every one of them was armed. Spears, pikes, and axes glinted in the weak sunlight. Some swung clubs, others slingshots.
"Harken's mercenaries," Paton muttered, and from his walking stick he withdrew a slim rapier-like sword. As soon as the sword met the air, a flash of electricity spun from Paton's hand down the narrow length of steel. "That should work," he said with satisfaction. "Let's go."
"Why, Paton Yewbeam, you've grown another foot," Mrs. Kettle declared, stepping up beside him.
Indeed, Uncle Paton did appear to be something of a giant, a rather thin one, Charlie thought, but a giant nevertheless, with a weapon that could surely deal a death to anyone it touched.
Tancred's storm was now raging above the stone beasts and, although the creatures still advanced, they had slowed down considerably and the troll army was not finding it easy to move through the icy wind that howled into their faces.
The group formed a ragged line behind the two leaders, and Charlie saw a determined smile on some of the grim faces around him. They had begun to believe that they could win.
And then, from somewhere behind them, a rock came hurtling through the air. With a moan of pain, Dagbert fell to the ground. The others appeared not to have noticed, but as Charlie dropped to his knees beside Dagbert, he saw a row of wild figures on the road -- the Piminy Street gang. An old woman with red ringlets was brandishing her slingshot and cackling with glee. Others held clubs, knives, and even hammers.
Charlie didn't know what to do. If he alerted his friends, they would turn back and the troll army would fly at them. But it was already too late. Olivia had seen the gang on the road. "Look!" she screamed. "We're caught."
As the group turned, the gang on the road rushed to meet them. But before Charlie could get to his feet, he was knocked aside by a heavy club and he fell face forward onto the stony turf.
21
THE BATTLE
When Charlie opened his eyes, he could hardly take in the scene around him. He'd read descriptions of battles, but nothing came close to this. Everywhere he looked, a savage fight was taking place.
He saw Lysander's spirit ancestors surround a group of roaring trolls; he saw Olivia conjure up a monster army only to have it vaporized by a gleeful Mrs. Tilpin. The witch was sending showers of ice from her long white fingers. He saw Gabriel fighting Joshua, and a huge bird sweeping down, seizing Joshua by his neck and carrying him off the field. Mr. Torsson had arrived, and together he and Tancred were raining bolts of lightning upon the stone beasts.
Charlie dragged himself through the screaming, grunting, roaring crowd. He had lost sight of Dagbert and then he saw a leopard crouching by a boy's body. Was it Dagbert? He saw another two leopards attacking the stone beasts, and then Runner Bean and the two rottweilers came flying past with Billy Raven close behind, barking out orders.
Mrs. Kettle was laying into everything that crossed her path. Her heavy sword struck at heads, legs, and bodies. Beside her, Benjamin, Fidelio, and Gabriel used their fists and their feet to help subdue her victims.
Charlie stood up. His legs were shaking uncontrollably and he felt useless without a weapon. A hideous being with one eye lumbered toward him, wielding an ax. Charlie backed into the crowd, waiting for the ax to fall. But a man with a white cloud of hair seized the fellow by the waist and swung him around. The one-eyed creature growled in fury and raised his ax again, only to have his hand severed by a blow from Señor Alvaro's slim silver sword.
Charlie blinked. "Th --" he began, but the two masters had run back into the battle. Charlie looked around for a friend to help. But his friends were hidden in the tangled mass of the battle. There was a sharp tap on his shoulder and he turned to face Mrs. Tilpin. Or was it Mrs. Tilpin? For this woman's features were all askew and he could hardly bear to look at her.
"This is the end for you, Charlie Bone!" the witch shrilled. She dug her claws deep into his shoulder. Deeper and deeper. And when the pain stopped, Charlie thought he must be dead, only he wasn't too dead to see Alice Angel reach over him and send a shaft of pure white light into Mrs. Tilpin's dreadful eyes.
The witch covered her face with her hands and reeled back, shrieking. A second later she was lying very still on the ground, and Alice had moved on.
"Charlie!" The call came from Uncle Paton, who was striding through the crowd toward Charlie. His uncle's sparking sword appeared to stun everything it touched and in his wake his victims lay withering on the ground.
With a surge of hope, Charlie rushed toward his uncle, crying, "We're winning, Uncle P. We're winning."
The arrow came from nowhere. One moment his uncle's triumphant smile was there before him, the next it had gone, and Paton was lying at Charlie's feet with an arrow in his chest.
Charlie's scream rang out above the sounds of battle, on and on and on. The sound wouldn't stop, even when Charlie had closed his mouth and dropped beside his uncle's motionless body. But when the scream finally ended, a deathly silence fell across the field. And he sensed an eerie, soundless movement all about him. When he looked up, the trolls and beasts, the Piminy Street gang, and all the enchanter's mercenaries had retreated. Charlie was surrounded by his friends, or most of them. He couldn't see Fidelio or Mrs. Kettle or Dagbert or Señor Alvaro. And where was Gabriel?
"Have we won?" Charlie asked miserably, for how could they have won if his uncle was dead?
"Not yet, Charlie," said Lysander.
And then Charlie saw on the other side of the field a mounted knight in shining armor. He wore a green cloak, and the plume on his helmet swirled in the air like the fronds of poisonous green hemlock. His mount was a great black stallion that snorted a fiery breath and cleaved the air with hooves of white-hot iron.
The enchanter's army stood in a row behind him. But the stone creatures lay in motionless heaps between the two groups. Felled by whom? Charlie wondered. Had the Torssons' lightning bolts pummeled them to pieces, or had Eric, their animator, finally been struck down?
"Come, Charlie!" Alice raised him to his feet.
"What's going to happen?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the prancing stallion and its green-swathed rider.
"We're finished, that's what," said Olivia.
Alice darted her a fierce look. "No."
But Olivia looked at the huddled shapes lying around the field.
The leopards were moving among the bodies, pawing and crying to them. "Without Mrs. Kettle and Mr. Yewbeam... and without... without..." She choked on her words, and the great bird beside her rubbed its head against her sleeve.
"We must do our best," said Alice. "We cannot permit him to take the city so easily. We cannot allow him to carry us back to a life not worth living. We cannot."
"Never," said a determined-looking Dr. Saltweather.
"No!" Tancred and Lysander agreed, their faces stern and resolute.
But Charlie could see tears glistening in Alice's eyes, and he knew that she was not entirely certain of the outcome of the battle.
An awful laughed rolled across the grass: a victorious and deathly rumble. The enchanter's voice boomed in their ears as though he were standing beside them.
"Go home!" he roared. "It's finished. The city is mine."
"No," Alice whispered.
"No," they whispered in unison, though they had all begun to wonder why they stood there waiting to die.
The enchanter kicked his horse, and the great beast came galloping toward them. They tried to hold the line, but Runner Bean and the rottweilers began to howl. They sank onto their bellies and wriggled away. And who could blame them?
On came the enchanter, his army moving after him. The group took a step back, then another.
"Why?" Charlie asked himself. Where were the bolts of lightning and the spirit ancestors? Why did the giant bird crouch beside her friend? Why wasn't Billy talking to the dogs? Why were the tears falling freely down Alice's cheeks?
They were paralyzed, Charlie realized.
So we are lost.
All at once a brilliant shaft of light struck a path across the heath. The leopards leaped up, their ears pricked forward, and the black stallion reared as though the light was a lethal thread of wire before him.
The leopards bounded toward the source of light, and on a hill at the edge of the field Charlie saw the brilliant flash of a sword, held by a knight on a white horse. The leopards reached the horse as it began to gallop down the hill; the knight's red cloak flew out behind him and the leopards came leaping after it.
The enchanter turned his horse. Again came the chilling laugh. "At last!" he roared. "We'll put an end to this."
At the bottom of the hill the Red Knight reined in his mount. And now they confronted each other, the Red Knight and the Green, with a few hundred yards between them. They drew' their swords and began to advance.
Suddenly, Charlie found he was running, propelled by the worst fear he had ever known. He could hear his friends calling him back, but he couldn't stop. He had to get between the two horses.
For he knew that the Red Knight was a man. He might have a magic cloak and an unbeatable sword, but he was not a magician, so how could he defeat a being whose very fingers were laced with deathly enchantments?
Charlie was too late. With a clash of steel the knights met in battle. Charlie dropped to his knees and the leopards surrounded him, nudging his shoulders and purring into his ears. Did they know something that he didn't?
The fighting was fast and furious. Every trick, every bit of sorcery was dredged from the enchanter's mind and used against his adversary. His weapon was by turns red-hot and ice-cold. He rained spikes on the Red Knight's helmet and sharpened bolts onto his chain mail, while the black stallion snorted fire into the white mare's eyes.
The Red Knight was beginning to tire. His head fell forward and he swayed from side to side, lowering his sword. The Green Knight prepared to come in for the kill.
"No!" cried Charlie and again he ran. With all his strength he leaped for the stallion's harness, dragging at its head. The enchanter lifted his weapon. "Cursed boy!" he roared. And then suddenly he gasped, as the Red Knight's unbeatable sword struck home, clean through the thick breastplate and into the Green Knight's heart.
The stallion reared and the enchanter rolled off its back. He hit the ground with a noise like the clash of giant cymbals, the sword still buried in his heart.
Charlie lay back in the grass. Above him the fog was rising and he could see blue sky and a brilliant sun. The ghostly army seemed to have vanished with the fog, and the Piminy Street gang were limping away; their heads were low and their gaudy costumes in rags. They looked so pathetic, Charlie felt almost sorry for them.
When he sat up he saw that his fallen friends were not fatally injured. Alice Angel was lifting his uncle's head. Fidelio had gotten to his feet. The leopards were moving around the injured, purring and nudging them back to life.
Lysander and Tancred came racing over to Charlie. "He's gone!" cried Lysander.
"Not a trace," said Tancred. "Truly dead!"
It was true. There was no sign of the enchanter, though the unbeatable sword lay where he had fallen, and a black stallion chomped the grass beside it.
"But the Red Knight!" said Charlie, standing up.
He lay on his back, only a few feet away. The white mare stood over his body. Now and then she nuzzled the battered helmet, snorting encouragingly. Blood seeped through the chain mail on the knight's chest and arms. It trickled from beneath his helmet. Was he already dying when he made that fatal thrust into the enchanter's heart? Charlie ran over to him. "What should we do?" He looked at his friends.
"Better take off the helmet!" Lysander suggested.
Charlie was afraid. Suddenly he didn't want to know the identity of the Red Knight. The spell would be ended. And if the knight was dead?
But I must know,
he thought. He knelt in the grass and gently pulled off the helmet.
A familiar face smiled up at him.
Charlie couldn't speak. His astonishment, his joy was too great. He could feel the others gathering behind him, murmuring. "It can't be!" "Is it, really?" "Why didn't we know?"
"Dad!" Charlie breathed.