The Angel's Command (37 page)

Maguda tapped the litter with her foot. “Take me back to my throne, then go, tell others what thou hast seen here today. Let it serve as a warning to all who would oppose me!”

The party moved off, with Gizal shuffling behind.

 
Arnela muttered to herself as she gazed up at what seemed to be a sheer wall of snow rearing overhead. “Avalanche must've done this, 'tis not as I remember it. But never mind, Ned, I know we're on the right track. That high crag near the peak is my marker—the Razan's lair is up there.

We'll have to go carefully, there might be hidden pitfalls in this sort of snow. Avalanches can do that, y'know.”

But the black Labrador was not listening. He was sprawled flat with both front paws covering his eyes. A piteous whimper emanated from his trembling body, building up suddenly into a mournful howl.

The big goatherd woman fell on her knees beside the dog, shaking him gently. “Ned, what is it, boy? What's the matter with ye?”

Her words fell on deaf ears. Ben had somehow transmitted the anguish of his tortured mind to the dog. All the horror and fear of the boy's nightmare were so powerful that Ned became a captive to them. Vanderdecken and his ghastly crew were reaching out to him from behind a grille of iron bars. He was in a cave, a prisoner, helpless to resist the captain and all hands, living and dead, of the
Flying Dutchman!

Arnela got her strong hands under Ned and lifted him, then cuddled him like a baby, shushing him, lest his howls betray them to the foe.

“There there now, good boy. This isn't like you, Ned. What is it? What's upsetting you? Only little puppies cry and yowl like that. You're supposed to be a big, sensible dog.”

In his fevered vision, Ned saw Vanderdecken make a grab for him. Instinctively he bared his teeth and bit at the phantom captain's hand.

Arnela was stroking the dog's muzzle when she felt the sudden change from cowering cur to wild animal. The goatherd pulled her hand away just in time. Ned's teeth ripped through the sleeve of her goat-hair tunic. Shock and anger overcame the big woman. She flung the dog forcefully to the ground. “Ooh! You bad, ungrateful dog!”

Ned felt the heavy impact as he struck the patch of snow, which Arnela's feet had hardened. It broke the spell for a short moment. In that instant he heard the angel's voice ringing out like a peal of thunder.

 
Ned called out from his bewildered mind to the angel. “I don't understand, tell me what I should do. Please!”

Once more the heavenly being's voice spoke forth.

 
The black Labrador's eyes snapped open. He understood the whole thing in a flash. Somehow, some way, an evildoer had taken possession of Ben's mind. The force was so strong that Ben could not avoid passing it on to him. Ned realised that he had to block the nightmare by concentrating his thoughts upon other things. But first he had to make amends to his friend Arnela. He nuzzled at her foot until she had to lift it slightly, then he thrust his chin under it until she was standing with her foot upon his head. Ned's tail brushed a fan in the snow as he wagged it back and forth.

Arnela sniffed, then a reluctant smile crossed her weather-beaten features. “Well well, sorry already, are we?”

Ned withdrew his head and nodded sheepishly. She raised him up until his front paws rested on her waist. Taking the dog's face in both hands, she looked into his soft dark eyes. “I don't know what's going on in that doggy brain of yours, friend, but I'm sure you had a good reason for what you did.”

Ned nodded solemnly. He pawed at his friend and whined softly.

Arnela ruffled his ears fondly. “Then I'll say no more about it, Ned. You're a good dog! Mayhap you were thinking of Ben and our other young friends. You were fretting and worried about them, that's probably it.”

Ned licked her hand and nodded again. She set his paws back down onto the snow. “Right, then, we won't get them free by standing around here all night. Come on, let me go first, I can probe the snow with my axe handle to make sure it's solid to walk on. Keep close behind, boy, walk in my tracks.”

Following Arnela up into the high mountainous regions, Ned kept his mind busy by sending out messages to his master. He thought of inconsequential, cheery things, which he hoped might snap Ben out of his frightening dream. “Aye aye, matey, it's me—your old pal Ned. Remember that picnic we had in the jungle a few years back? Haha, that was a good one, we were scoffing away when you suddenly noticed you were sitting on an anthill. Hohoho! I never knew you were such a good dancer, jumping and leaping and smacking your own behind. What a sight! Come on now, admit it, Ben, you didn't sit down for a week after that. Never mind those bad old dreams, mate. Wake up, open your eyes! Talk to Karay and Dominic, think of other things—anything! Hahaha, like me chasing that snobbish lady through the fair on her horse. Hoho, the horse's big fat bottom wobbling all over the place and her hanging on to her hat. What a dreadful hat that was, one of those creations with a dead stuffed lark and a pile of wax cherries on it. You wouldn't want to be seen dead in it on a dark night, eh? Come on, Ben, try and remember the good times, the funny bits.”

Whether wading chest deep in powdery snow, scrambling over loose shale and protruding rocks or avoiding patches of sheet ice, the faithful dog never once ceased trying to break the spell pervading Ben's mind.

25

LIGRAN RAZAN AND HIS ELDER BROTHER Rawth unlocked the long, barred cell door and entered. They stared at the three young people, all locked in their own blood-chilling trances, unable to speak, move or communicate with one another.

Ligran chuckled at the sight. “Sweet dreams, eh? I wouldn't like t'be in the middle of a nap like the one they're takin', not for ten bags o' gold!” He kicked Dominic's foot lightly.

Rawth cautioned him. “Careful, ye might break their spell!”

Ligran scoffed at his brother. “Our wicked old sister's the only one who can do that. Look at this.” Kneeling, he popped one of Dominic's eyes open wider. The facemaker was still staring straight ahead in a trance. Ligran shrugged. “See, he doesn't even know we're here.” He let the lid drop.

Rawth grabbed one of Ben's arms. “Stop playin' around an' let's get this one to Maguda.”

Ligran helped his brother to lift the drugged boy; they bore him out of the cell and relocked it. Draping Ben's arms about their shoulders, they towed him off down the corridor, his feet limply scraping the ground.

The bear gave a low moan as they passed its cell. Ligran stopped briefly. He kicked the bars and snarled in at the wretched animal. “D'ye want me to go an' get my whip? I'll give ye somethin' to moan about!”

The creature fell silent, its sad, dark eyes dull and moist.

The brothers halted at a cave that had a wooden door. It was unlocked. Rawth kicked it twice. The voice that came from within was that of their sister.

“Bring him in.”

The cave served as the armoury to the robber clan. Maguda Razan was seated on her litter, this balanced on four small kegs of gunpowder. There were other kegs stacked there, plus an array of flintlock muskets and rifles, pikes, spears and various odd-looking weapons piled against the walls.

Maguda indicated a length of cord lying nearby. “Bind his hands behind and sit him on the floor.”

Rawth performed the task, lowering Ben into a sitting position with his back propped against two casks of gunpowder. He and Ligran stood awaiting further orders.

Maguda's long nails rattled together as she shook a hand dismissively. “Begone now, both of ye. Come back with my litter bearers in an hour. Wait! Ligran, pour some of this into the lad.”

Ligran took the goblet from his sister. He tilted Ben's head back and trickled some of the potion between the boy's lips. Ben swallowed and coughed.

Maguda held up her hand. “Enough, that should bring him to his senses.”

Rawth tried to sound helpful. “Do ye want us to stay around, in case he tries anything—”

He wilted under Maguda's scornful glance. “What need have I of fools? Get out, both o' ye!”

They retreated, closing the door behind them. Maguda peered closely at Ben. His head was lolling from side to side, and his lips were moving slightly. Slowly his eyes opened. He stared wildly around, a note of panic in his voice. “Where are my two friends—what have you done with them?”

Maguda closed her eyes until they were mere slits. “Thy friends are still alive and locked up safe . . .”—she paused for effect—“. . . for the moment.”

Ben attempted to sound reasonable, knowing he was in the presence of a wicked and vengeful enemy. “We mean you no harm . . . why are you keeping us prisoner like this? Please release my friends at least, let them go.”

The old crone shook with silent mirth. “Brave young liar. Ye came here to rescue my grandson, but, alas, the Adamo that folk knew is gone. He is dead to me forever.”

Ben sat up straighter. “He is dead?”

Maguda pointed at herself. “Not by my hand, but by his own stubborn choosing. I will speak no more of him. Ye want me to grant freedom to thee and thy friends. I can do that, but on one condition that only ye can fulfil, boy.”

Ben leaned forward eagerly, hope rising with him. “Tell me, what do you want me to do?”

Maguda paused awhile, her fingernails tapping the litter. “I know thou art a strange boy, my omens told me so. Many things has thou seen in a great period of years, far longer than thy appearance can tell to ordinary folk. But I am Maguda Razan, no ordinary person. The thing is this: If I gazed deep into thine eyes, what would I behold, tell me?”

Ben answered as truthfully as he could without giving away too much. “Marm, I have little control over what others see in my eyes. Maybe people see in them just what they wish to.”

Maguda scoffed. “Fortunetellers and charlatans say such things to stupid peasants. Thy words do not fool me. I wish to see what thine eyes really hold. Fate, future, knowledge . . . whatever 'tis, I must know. But beware, if I see sights not unto my liking, 'twill go badly for thee, boy!”

Ben knew it was a chance he had to take. All he could do was go along with Maguda's request. He was afraid for himself, but more so for his two friends, and it was painfully obvious that Maguda was not one to make idle threats. He cast a swift glance at the evil old woman as she sat awaiting his decision. Some inner instinct told him that she was apprehensive. Usually she would be in her great cavern surrounded by guards. Why had she chosen to see him in private? Was she scared of what she would see in his eyes? Did she not want others to see her weakness? Was Maguda Razan really so powerful and invincible?

Ben decided to take the chance and find out. “I hope what you see in my eyes is to your liking, marm. I'm ready for you to look into them.”

Maguda faced him, closed her own eyes tightly and began muttering incantations in a weird ancient language. Her hands caressed a skull that was on the litter at her side.

Ben sat, resigned to his fate, waiting for her to finish the strange ritual. Without any prior warning, images began invading his mind. He knew it could be nobody but Ned—the dog's communication was so strong, it cut through everything. Ben could not push the images to the back of his mind.

The eyes of Maguda Razan suddenly opened wide, staring at him, boring into his consciousness. She hissed as her hands rose like two long-taloned claws above her head. “Now we shall see. Look deep into mine eyes, boy, give thyself up to my powers!”

Ben met her hypnotic gaze but was surprised to find that he felt nothing. It was merely like staring at an unpleasant old hag.

He smiled at the recollections Ned was sending him.

Maguda Razan blinked then, and her hands dropped slightly. “What is this foolishness? I see thee dancing about in some far forest, smiting thyself and leaping like a mad child. No, wait! I see the fair at Veron now . . . a stupid woman on a prancing horse, chased by a dog! Art thou making mock of me, boy? Dost thou think Maguda Razan is to be made fun of?”

Ben had difficulty keeping a straight face, but he intoned dully, as if hypnotised, “Look deeper and you shall see.”

He concentrated his thoughts upon the
Flying Dutchman.
In the teeth of a roaring hurricane off the coast of Tierra del Fuego, amid icy waves and tattered rigging, the face of Captain Vanderdecken appeared. Lank, salt-crusted hair framed the Dutchman's accursed visage, bloodless lips bared from stained tombstone-like teeth, his eyes glittered insanely. Laughing madly, he paced the deck of the doomed vessel, hurling oaths and threats at all about him.