The Wildkin’s Curse (6 page)

‘I don't want or need your help,' Liliana said stiffly.

‘Of course you do,' Zed said, grinning at her. ‘How else can you get access to the palace? How else can you even get close to your cousin? And there'll be fighting involved. You're only a girl. Of course you need me to help you and look after you—'

Liliana leapt to her feet, one hand seizing an arrow, the other raising high her bow. Within seconds, Zed had an arrow aimed directly at his throat.

‘I am not
only a girl
,' Liliana enunciated very clearly. ‘I am Liliana Vendavala, Princess of the Stormlinn. Apologise or die.'

Z
ED RAISED BOTH HIS HANDS HIGH.
‘N
O NEED TO GET SO HOT
under the collar. I didn't mean to offend you!'

‘Well, you did,' Liliana said. The hand holding back the string of her bow did not quiver, the pointed barb of the arrow less than an inch away from Zed's throat.

‘Well, I'm sorry, then. But you have to admit I've got a point—a wildkin girl like you has got no chance of getting into that palace by herself. Why, they'd kill you before you even got within a mile of the place. Particularly if they found out that you are one of the Stormlinn.'

‘That may be true, but I still don't see how that gives you the right to insult me, just because you are a boy and a starkin.'

‘Well, all right then, I'm sorry,' said Zed. ‘Do you think you could put the arrow down now? I'd hate your finger to slip.'

Liliana slowly let the bow and arrow drop. ‘My finger will not slip unless I want it to,' she said scornfully.

‘Are you going to do that often?' Zed asked. ‘I mean, whip out an arrow and threaten to kill me? Because it doesn't make you very comfortable to be around.'

‘I am the granddaughter of Avannia, the martyred Erlqueen of the Stormlinn. You must take care how you speak to me.'

‘Oh, I will, I will!' Zed held up both his hands in surrender, giving Liliana such an impish grin that she could not help smiling back, just a little.

Briony had been watching this little byplay with a small line between her brows. ‘Zedrin, Merrik, I cannot tell you how important this is—not just to Liliana and me, but to the whole future of our land.'

She paused and took a deep breath, and then continued with her hands clasped closely together, ‘You see, it seems Princess Rozalina has inherited her mother's talent. In the last few months, since her sixteenth birthday, she has been demonstrating clear signs of the Gift of Telling. It is still wild and uncontrolled. She inflicted mumps upon someone who displeased her, and summoned a plague of rats.'

‘Not someone you want to get on the wrong side of,' Zed said in an undertone to Merry.

‘The point is that Prince Zander has realised what a potent weapon she would be, if he could force her to use her Gift in his service. We must rescue her before she is taught to use her Gift for harm.'

‘Imagine if she cursed all those of wildkin blood,' Liliana said urgently, leaning forward, ‘not knowing what she did!'

‘Or foretold a cruel death for all those that spoke against the starkin,' Briony said.

‘Could she harm you?' Merry asked anxiously. ‘Prince Zander has been trying to find some way to capture the Erlrune for years. He's always sending the King's Guard tramping through Estelliana.'

‘And my uncle can do nothing to stop him for fear of being called a traitor,' Zed said.

‘That is why we must rescue her just as soon as we can. She could be the most powerful weapon we've got in our fight against the starkin!' Liliana cried.

‘Or at least, a powerful tool in our work towards bringing peace and justice back to the land,' Briony said quellingly.

‘But . . . why us? We're only sixteen . . . and despite what Zed thinks, hardly hero material,' Merry said.

‘Perhaps that's why you have a chance,' said Briony. ‘They'll be looking for monsters and rebel armies, not two naive young men come to gawk at the royal court. Besides, did I not tell you? Lady Marjolaine saw in the Well of Fates that Shoshanna would have a daughter who could only be rescued by one with the blood of the Ziv in him. She always thought that this must be impossible but then your parents came to ask for her help, and she began to wonder . . .'

‘You mean, she could see that Lisandre and Pedrin would marry even then?' Merry asked, rather sceptically.

Briony smiled at him. ‘Oh, we could all see that.'

Zed grinned. He loved the romance of the story of his parents' meeting. Merry dropped his eyes. His parents' story would be romantic too, if his father Durrik had not died at the hands of starkin soldiers, and if his mother Maglen had not felt compelled to avenge his death and lead the rebels in their war against the starkin. He felt Liliana's eyes on him and turned away to hide the pain in his face.

Briony placed her empty glass down on the tray and stretched wearily. ‘Lady Marjolaine saw that it would be the child—or the children—of the four adventurers that braved her so long ago who would have the best hope of rescuing Princess Rozalina. That was why she asked your parents to send you here, so she could help you, and teach you everything that might help you in your task. I have done my best in her stead, and can only hope it will be enough.'

‘So let me get this straight,' Merry said. ‘The only reason why Zed and I ever came here was to be trained to break this wildkin princess out of her tower. Is that right?'

Briony nodded. ‘That's right, Merry,' she said softly. ‘There's no-one else who can do it. Zed is one of the Ziv. He'll be welcomed at the capital city with open arms, him and all his party. No-one will suspect you're trying to rescue a wildkin.'

‘Sounds like fun,' Zed said exuberantly.

‘It sounds dangerous,' Merry said.

‘Of course it's dangerous.' Liliana cast him a cool look. ‘Are you afraid?'

‘I'd be stupid not to be afraid,' Merry retorted. ‘Do you know what they do to traitors in Zarissa? The royal court will be swarming with soldiers and spies.'

‘Do you think I don't know that?' Liliana snapped back. ‘Many people tried to rescue Shoshanna, and they all failed. Many died horribly. The only reason why I'm permitting you boys to accompany me is because you'll be useful getting me in the door.'

‘Permitting us! You should be falling on your knees and thanking us. Besides, we haven't said we'll go yet,' Merry replied.

‘Oh, I'll go,' Zed said. ‘What an adventure. Besides, it's what I was born for, isn't it? No point at all in trying to avert your fate, I think.'

Next shall be the king-breaker, the king-maker, though broken himself he shall be.
Merry remembered the prophecy with a little inward shudder. How could Zed be so cool when it was predicted he was to be broken? But then Zed loved to hunt and duel and wrestle, and he never seemed to get hurt. He had no idea what true pain was like. Merry was not so robust, nor so lucky. He was always getting injured, trying to keep up with his taller, stronger, more adventurous friend.

There was the time Zed had dared him to climb to the top of High Tor, and Merry's rope had somehow frayed and broken, and he had fallen and broken three ribs and his leg. Another time they had got lost in the snow after setting out to explore the forest on homemade snow-shoes, and Merry had almost died of pneumonia while Zed had not even caught a sniffle. Merry had even been shot at once, by a bandit with bad aim who had wanted to steal Zed's silver dagger. He had a small, round scar in his shoulder where Naomi the Crafty had had to dig out the crossbow bolt.

Merry sighed.

‘Of course you're coming,' Zed grinned at him. ‘As if you'd stay home knitting when there's some action to be had!'

‘It seems someone with a bit of sense really ought to go along. Liliana here seems as much of a cabbage-head as you,' Merry said. ‘If not more so.'

Liliana glared at him and he smiled, letting her know he was only teasing. After a moment she smiled back, tentatively, and he felt a strange twist deep in his stomach. Blood rushed into his face.

‘It's not a decision to be taken lightly,' Briony said anxiously. ‘The king guards his throne jealously, and there are many who jostle to take his place. Rozalina is chained and muzzled if she does not do what her father commands, and kept locked in a tower so high clouds drift through the only window. It will take some planning to free her.'

‘Do you have maps of the city? Diagrams of the palace?' Merry asked, hoping no-one had noticed him flush. ‘How are we to escape afterwards, and where are we to take her once we've freed her?'

‘Why, back to Stormlinn, of course!' Liliana cried. ‘She is the Erlqueen!'

‘Erlqueen of mice and spiders,' Merry said. ‘Much use they'll be against an army of starkin soldiers.'

‘We'll gather together an army to defend her. Wildkin will come from the four corners of the world to defend their queen. We'll rebuild the castle and find the lost spear, and this time we won't be so stupid as to trust any starkin that come against us there.' Liliana was on her feet, her grey eyes flashing, her hands clenched.

‘First we need to get her out of there,' Merry said dryly.

Briony said. ‘Yes, you will need to find some way to escape the city once you have freed Rozalina, and yes, you will need to bring her back to the Perilous Forest. Bring her here to me, Lili. She will need to be healed, if not in body, then in mind. And it will take time to rebuild Stormlinn Castle and to gather together an army to defend it.'

‘Very well,' Liliana said unwillingly. ‘But she cannot skulk here for long. There's much to be done.'

‘I have maps,' Briony said, rising to her feet and going across to a simple wooden chest under the window. Opening it, she withdrew a sheaf of papers tied with faded blue ribbon, and a bundle of some brightly striped material. ‘There was a brave man who risked much to gather them for Lady Marjolaine.' She looked at Merry gravely. ‘You may recognise the handwriting, Merry.'

‘Me? Why?' He laid aside his lute and bent his head over the maps, drawing in a surprised breath at their comprehensiveness. Each was drawn with exact precision and marked out in paces, showing exactly how many steps it took to walk the king's great hall, or to go down the servants' stairs to the kitchens. Page after page was drawn and inscribed with the same neat hand. Examining them, Merry frowned. Something niggled at him, as if he had seen that neat, elegant script before. It was like his grandfather's music sheets, he thought, and wondered if the same scribe had written both, or if that was just the way palace scribes were taught to write. Certainly his tutors at Estelliana Castle had done their best to teach him and Zed to write as gracefully.

‘It was your grandfather Johan who drew the maps,' Briony said.

‘My grandfather! But . . . I suppose he was music teacher at the palace for a while. That was where he met my grandmother.'

‘He went to the palace for the sole purpose of gathering information that would help Lady Marjolaine rescue Shoshanna,' Briony said. ‘They were betrayed and he had to flee. He brought the maps with him. I suggest that you all spend some time studying the maps and impressing them upon your memory.'

‘Let me have a look!' Zed grabbed the maps away from Merry. ‘Jumping Jimjinny! Look at the size of the palace. It's as big as the city itself.'

Liliana gave him a quick, astonished glance. Merry smiled at her. He knew it sounded odd to hear a hearthkin expression coming out of the mouth of someone who looked every inch a starkin prince, but Zed's father had once been a goatherd and his language was still salted with the expressions and swearwords of his youth.

‘It's built high on a pinnacle by the sea,' Merry said, turning his attention back to the map. ‘It looks practically impregnable.'

‘It is impregnable,' Zed said proudly. ‘No-one has ever breached its defences.'

‘What about flying in by grogoyle?' Merry asked Briony. ‘Has anyone tried that?'

She nodded. ‘Three grogoyles have died in the attempt. The starkin have farseeing lenses with which they watch the sky and the sea, and long-range fusillier cannons mounted on the battlements. None of the grogoyles even came close.'

‘Well then, I'm thinking the best escape route would be by ship,' Merry said, though his heart sank at the thought. He did not like sailing at all. He could not help imagining what it must have been like for his father to drown. Durrik had known that was how he would die, and he and Merry's mother had settled as far away from the lakes and rivers and waterfalls of Estelliana as possible, moving to the dry plains of Somerlad instead.

But Durrik had drowned anyway. Not in a capsized boat, or from falling into a rushing river. Durrik had been drowned in his own fishpond, by a group of starkin soldiers who had ducked him as a witch. It was one of the starkin's more illogical practices. They believed magic was dangerous and malevolent, and anyone who showed sign of a magical gift must be killed. One of the ways they tested for witchcraft was to tie the accused to a stool, and dunk them below the water until they either drowned—a sign of innocence—or survived, in which case they were untied and taken to be burnt to death in the marketplace. Durrik, who had the Gift of Prophecy, drowned.

‘I've always wanted to see the ocean,' Liliana cried. ‘The wind and the waves and the spray flying high. It must be marvellous!'

‘We'll see how you feel when you're seasick,' Merry said, not looking at Liliana, though he was very conscious of her slim form beside him. The few tendrils that had fallen out of her plait curled wildly about her face and neck. She pushed them back behind her ears with a brown, long-fingered hand, calluses on the palm from the string of her bow. He moved a little away from her, reaching out to point at the drawing of the tower, which sprang from the highest point of the palace. ‘If that's where they keep her, it'll be hard to free her.'