Read Roland's Castle Online

Authors: Becky York

Tags: #fantasy, #space travel, #knights, #medieval fantasy, #knights and castles, #travel between worlds, #travel adventure fiction, #knights and fantasy, #travels through time and space, #fantasy about hidden places

Roland's Castle (5 page)

BOOK: Roland's Castle
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“Oh yes! I warn you! I fight like a
girl!”

“Right! Well, Let’s see what you
can do…”

He turned to the Companion and
instructed it. “Fight my friend here – on guard!”

And as soon as he spoke Savitri
stormed in and landed a torrent of blows on the Companion. It
immediately adjusted to her skill level and both became embroiled
in a furious sword fight. Savitri was filled with rage and the
Companion bore the brunt of it, its armour clanging loudly and
often. She did not stop even when she was plainly exhausted and
eventually Roland called a halt to it.

“Why did you stop me?” She
demanded.

“You’re denting my companion!” he
protested, with a smile.

“Sorry – I forgot it’s yours and
not a real one.”

“No probs. I just want a chance to
dent it myself once in a while!” and he grabbed a sword from the
rack and challenged “On guard!”

He was well aware, as he fought,
that he had a way to go before reaching Savitri’s standard – and he
certainly lacked her rage.

“You did well,” she said when he
finally lowered his sword, but he knew she was being generous and
that she realised he was an inferior fighter to her. They took
turns to practise and Savitri gave Roland some pointers.

Finally they had had enough and
realised they had no idea of the time. Roland thought it was
probably about time to find out what his uncle and his guests were
planning. He had every faith that his uncle could quickly entangle
them in some dastardly plot.

He went to the door but as it began
to open he heard his uncle’s voice. Dagarth was in Roland’s bedroom
- and so were Bril-a-Brag and Gloatenglorp. Roland halted but
listened to what was said from behind the tapestry.

Dagarth said, “Where has the little
brat gone now? Like I say, I would have got the truth out of him by
now but for fear of what his father would do to me if he ever
returns. You, on the other hand…”

“It will be my pleasure to abduct
the boy and extract the facts from him by the most enjoyable of
means! No extra charge – we will still spilt the treasure
fifty-fifty as we agreed at dinner however I help you find it!”

“Agreed! Now, where is he? We’ve
looked everywhere for the treasure, don’t say we are going to have
to start looking for
him
too.” and Dagarth looked under the
bed.

“Are you sure you have looked
everywhere for the treasure?
Everywhere
? Eliminated every
possibility?” Bril-a-Brag inquired. “Don’t worry, we can still
torture the boy after we find it, just for fun! What about this
tower? It doesn’t seem to have had any walls ripped out…”

Dagarth protested, “But it is so
small and old and insignificant. I never thought it could conceal
anything of value. There is no sign of anything being added after
it was built…”

“But you have looked everywhere
else…” Bril-a-Brag pointed out.

And Gloatenglorp danced and
sang:

“Take away what isn’t true,

Then it will be plain to you.

Whatever is still in your
sight,

Must be left and must be
right!”

“If this tower is the only place
you haven’t looked then it must be here!” Bril-a-Brag pronounced.
“We must search it!”

Roland’s heart pounded, but then
Dagarth objected, “The best thing is simply to demolish it. It has
no use. It is too late now but first thing tomorrow we will make a
start. .”

“Good idea,” Bril-a-Brag said.
“First thing tomorrow!”

Dagarth said, “I am afraid the
guest rooms are in a bit of a mess at the moment… Why don’t you
sleep here? It isn’t much but you will be able to wait for that
little scoundrel in case he returns!”

“We are used to far worse!”
Bril-a-Brag said, hanging up his cloak.

“Well goodnight then – and an early
start!” Dagarth said.

And Gloatenglorp danced and
sang:

“Get ahead and not a tail.

Out of bed and never fail!”

“What’s happening?” Savitri asked
Roland.

“Looks like we are stuck here for
the night – unless you wish me to be tortured.”

Savitri shook her head.

“Your masters are in my room,”
Roland explained.

“They are not my masters!” and
Savitri swung her sword in anger. “I will kill them now - now I
have a sword!”

Roland moved to block her. “We are
not killing anyone unless we have to. It will make a mess of the
carpet and it is very – unknightly. We must give them a chance to
capitulate and promise to mend their ways, then if they don’t…”

“We slice them into as many pieces
as we can!” Savitri said, slashing about with the sword.

“Well, let’s slice, err, cross,
that bridge when we come to it. There is something happening
tomorrow I want to see, maybe stop it if I can. For now we’ll make
ourselves comfy in here, although the fixtures and fittings might
not be very relaxing….”

Savitri grabbed a tapestry off the
wall and flung it over the Companion.

“How’s that?”

“A big improvement – remarkable! I
didn’t know it could be improved so much.

Now let’s get some more tapestries
down and make some beds. Before those two are awake I plan to sneak
out and hide so we can watch the proceedings. Will you join
me?”

Savitri nodded.

For a while they bedded down and
dozed until they were as certain as they could be that Bril-a-Brag
and Gloatenglorp were asleep. They then they pushed aside the
tapestry and entered Roland’s bedchamber. Fearing to light a candle
in case it woke the two men, Roland led Savitri to the other door
in the dark. They picked their way quietly, feeling in front of
them with fingers and toes at every step so as not to trip over
some obstacle. Savitri had grudgingly agreed to leave the sword
behind in case it made a noise. Passing the end of the bed they
could hear the sounds of snoring and someone turning restlessly.
They held their breath for fear that even the sound of that might
give them away. They did not breath again until they were near the
door. At that point, however, Roland came to a dead standstill. He
could feel someone else’s breath on his face. There was someone
right in front of him. He stood still, petrified, until Savitri
whispered. “What is it?”

“Someone’s right in front of us!”
Roland whispered, wondering why the someone didn’t speak or give
the alarm. Savitri had a tinder box and she lit it, giving a small
and brief light. Roland saw that right in front of him was
Gloatenglorp’s face, but upside down. Roland looked upwards to see
that he was hanging from the inside of the door by his feet. He was
fast asleep.

“He always sleeps hanging upside
down,” Savitri whispered.

“It was meant to be trap,” Roland
whispered back, “for me, coming in.”

Carefully he reached out for the
handle of the door and pulled it, swinging it back as gently as
possible and without breathing so as not to disturb the sleeper. At
one point Gloatenglorp gave a grunt and huffed. Roland stopped
moving the door and stopped breathing all over again, but it turned
out Gloatenglorp was only dreaming. Roland got the door open wide
enough for himself and Savitri to squeeze through, then gently – as
gently as possible and without breathing at all - shut it
again.

They passed down the stairway
without incident and out into the moonlight.

With all the
rubble and torture equipment there was plenty of stuff to hide
behind but few places where they would not be seen by the sentries
up on what was left of the walls. The best place was underneath the
Mark V Superstretch – they just had to hope that Bril-a-Brag didn't
have a renewed bout of appreciation and want to look at the
underside.

Uncle Dagarth, Bril-a-Brag and
Gloatenglorp were up at the very crack of dawn,

all three of them supervising
men-at-arms and servants, giving orders three to the dozen so that
nobody really knew what they were meant to be doing. Even if they
did manage to do what they were meant to be doing they were then
told by someone else to undo do it and then told to do it all over
again. All activity was focused around the Unfinished Tower, of
course. Scaffolding went up and then it came down. It went up again
and this time it fell down. They then decided that there was no
need for scaffolding as they would attack the tower at the very
base – “If that fails, we will try undermining - a fine technique
of siege craft,” Uncle Dagarth said.

And suitably sneaky, Roland
thought, but did not say it.

The scaffolding was rebuilt as a
grandstand so that Uncle Dagarth, Auntie Hildegrind and the
visitors could sit and watch as events unfolded. Dogwood and
Dagwood were now thoroughly bored with the whole affair so they
played at sword fighting in the space beneath the grandstand.

It was nearly noon before anyone
was actually ready to do anything to the tower itself. Roland and
Savitri were already wondering if they were going to starve to
death before anything happened. It didn’t help that there was
plenty of food in front of them, but out of reach. A banquet had
been served for Dagarth and his family and guests. There was only
bread and ale for the men-at-arms and the servants, of course, but
then they were only doing all the work.

The men-at-arms were doing much
grumbling at being made to do physical labour, which they thought
to be beneath them. They started to hit the base of the tower with
hammers but weren’t very full-blooded about it. It was as if they
expected masonry to come down on their heads and didn’t trust their
flimsy tin helmets to protect them. They had learnt a thing or
three – or even more - from the previous mishaps when taking the
castle apart. Blowitt, the castle handyman, mocked them heartily.
“You won’t get nowhere like that! We’ll be here 'til Candlemas year
after next! Here, I’ll show you!” And he grabbed up the hammer and
gave the tower a mighty clout right at its base. There was a slight
shudder in the ground as the blow struck, then a tremble
afterwards, like a murmur of irritation. Surely the blow could not
have been so severe as to cause an earthquake? He struck the tower
again. There was a bigger shudder. Blowitt sensed that something
was wrong, that he was displeasing someone or something that he
oughtn’t.

“I don’t like this! I don’t like
this at all! Some things was meant to stand a lifetime and more!
What was meant to stand is meant to stand and no man’s meant to
un-stand it.” and he threw down the hammer.

Uncle Dagarth had a fit of rage. He
leapt out of his seat and ran down to the base of the tower. “By
the stars I’ll do it myself!” he yelled, and picked up the hammer.
He swung it around his head and landed the most powerful clout that
any tower could ever have received. This time there most definitely
was a reaction. The ground shook and the skies darkened. A most
peculiar, dark cloud was gathering over the tower. It was circular
with a hole in the middle, like a doughnut, as if it were
surrounding something.

Uncle Dagarth paused for a second
and looked up, then determination gripped him. He struck again.
This time there was a deep and aggressive rumble of thunder. Uncle
Dagarth stood back, his face creased with anger. He raised up the
hammer to strike yet again. Then a bolt of lightning hit the head
of the hammer causing it to explode. Dagarth was thrown backwards
onto his bottom. What happened next was talked of in the locality
for generations. The tower seemed to spin and buck, twisting and
turning like a colt trying to break free from a harness. More
lighting bolts were flung from the cloud right above it whilst
thunder sounded. One of the lighting bolts blasted the grandstand
to bits causing the spectators to be thrown out onto the cobbles.
They hastily picked themselves up as more bolts of lighting landed
at their feet. The bolts were very well targeted to terrify them
into fleeing for their lives and that was what they did. Dagarth
was still unsteady on his feet after being thrown backwards and as
he ran across the cobbles he tripped and went sprawling. The
impatient cloud zapped his bottom causing a shower of pretty sparks
to fly up. He was encouraged to pick himself up and move even
faster to the exit, pushing the men-at-arms out of the way as he
went, yelling “Open the gates! For goodness sake! Let me out!” The
guards at the gates hurriedly opened them and then fled themselves.
The cloud chased them all off the premises like an angry dog.

With the cloud and its quarry gone
Roland and Savitri emerged from their hiding place. The area looked
like a battlefield. The wreck of the grandstand and the places
where the lightning bolts had blasted the earth blended in with the
ransacked castle. Despite the devastation Savitri laughed and
danced. “Whoo-hoo! You know how to throw a party don’t you! That
was good! Let’s do it again tomorrow!” and she danced around and
laughed even more. “Hurrah! They’re gone!
They re gone!

Roland laughed too but then he felt
a hand on his shoulder and turned his head to see Firebrace.

“That was very stupid of them,
wasn’t it?” Firebrace said. “A little bit of rejoicing! Good! That
is right! We are rid of them for now, but they will return.” and he
sighed and said “Fear is an instant and fleeting thing. Now they
have seen the power of the tower that knowledge will overcome their
fear and draw them back. We must be ready for them! They must not
be allowed to take control again!”

“What can we do?” Roland said.

“We must gather our resources! We
must make plans to defend this castle.”

“I think the tower can look after
itself!” Savitri said, looking at it in admiration.

“Up to a point,” Firebrace said,
“against a small party, taking them by surprise. But to defend the
whole castle from an army, we must do more.”

“But the castle is in ruins,”
Roland protested, “all the men-at-arms have fled.”

BOOK: Roland's Castle
9.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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