A Thundering of Monsters, page 18
“I don’t believe it,” said Barver, but as Patch was about to ask what it was he didn’t believe, Barver took to the air, grabbing Patch around the waist without explanation or apology.
“Hey!” cried Patch, cross and uncomfortable, flying backward. “What are you doing?” He saw the other griffins spread their wings and fly the moment they were free of the island. Barver’s dad veered left and right worryingly, his expression one of grim determination and vague alarm.
Barver landed on the beach, setting Patch down. Turning, Patch was to about to give his friend a piece of his mind when he froze and found he couldn’t speak. There was the griffin Alkeran; beside him stood Underath.
And beside Underath, her face both astonished and overjoyed, was Wren.
She said nothing and just ran up to them; the three hugged each other long and hard. For Patch, time seemed to stop and the rest of the world disappeared. He was crying, even though he felt happier than he could ever remember feeling.
At last Wren stepped back, and the three regarded each other with tears and wide smiles.
Patch looked at Wren, her very presence leaving him absolutely baffled. There was only one question on his mind: “How?” he said.
Wren shrugged. “I was about to ask both of you the same thing,” she replied.
The tearful reunions weren’t limited to Patch, Wren, and Barver. Alia almost squeezed the life out of Wren when she finally got her chance.
Alkeran and Gaverry also had their moment. This was the first time they’d seen each other since that fateful day so many years before, when they’d both been pilots for a fishing fleet just before the island captured them.
Even the worrying news Wren gave them from Tiviscan and beyond couldn’t quite bring the celebratory mood crashing down. Alkeran and Gaverry took to the skies again, laughing, while Barver watched nervously. “He’s just not ready to exert himself like that,” he said.
Patch kept finding himself in sudden tears every time he looked at Wren. Here was one of his two best friends, someone he was convinced had died to save them all, yet she was alive and well.
“So much mucus!” said Barver, staring at Patch’s dripping nose.
Patch took a great wet sniff then wiped the rest away with his sleeve, and the three of them burst into laughter.
“Oh, I have a new thing!” said Wren eagerly. “Barver, could you just hold up your wing?”
Barver did, and Wren stood behind it. A moment later a crow flew out and hopped around on the rocks.
“Ta daaa!” said the crow, before flying back behind Barver’s wing and becoming human-Wren again.
Barver and Patch were impressed. “Can you do sharks yet?” asked Barver.
“I can do crows and rats,” said Wren. “And crow-rats. But give me time . . .”
27
Tiviscan Prepares
Once all of their number had crossed to the beach, the great tentacle withdrew from the pebbles, rolling itself back up before submerging. Massarken began to move away, shrouding itself in mist as it went to hide far out to sea.
Tiviscan was ten miles inland. Alkeran and Underath flew back to the Castle with the news that reinforcements were here; Barver and the other griffins chose to accompany the soldiers and Pipers on their march, spending much of the journey airborne to make the most of their freedom. None relished it more than Gaverry, of course. Patch and Wren watched father and son fly together, and it warmed their hearts.
At last the Castle was in sight, and they came to the rising road that linked the lower forest routes to the higher plains. Patch thought back to when he’d come along this road in the custody of Rundel Stone and Erner, when Wren was still a rat and they’d not even met Barver.
“How is Erner doing?” he asked.
“He’s well,” said Wren. “He and Rundel are using one of the devices from the Caves of Casimir to work out if anyone else is a victim of magical persuasion. When news of your mysterious island first reached Tiviscan, we’d already caught three Custodians who were under the control of Quarastus, and they have the whole Castle to get through. The town too, since the citizens will be coming inside the walls before the Hamelyn Piper gets here. By the time me and Underath left to check out the island, they’d only just got started.”
Patch had had a cold lump of fear in his belly ever since Wren had told them all of Lord Pewter’s true nature. “Quarastus,” he said. “I always liked Lord Pewter, Wren. He seemed kind, yet all along he was evil. And now I can’t help thinking he’s watching everything we do.”
“He probably is,” said Wren. “Waiting until the dust settles before he makes his next move. But we have the more immediate concern of the Hamelyn Piper and his army . . .”
As they reached Tiviscan, the people of the town cheered them as if they’d already been saved from the Black Knight.
The air of celebration made Patch feel uneasy. There were thousands of mercenaries headed their way, probably armed with the same weaponry that had devastated an entire city. What difference could the addition of a few dozen Battle Pipers and a couple of hundred soldiers make?
Passing through the town square, Patch took a moment at the central statue. The hand pump and trough at the statue’s base were a welcome sight after a long hike. He pumped the handle until fresh cold water poured out of the iron spout, then put his hand into the flow to drink.
“Oh, good idea!” said Barver, plunging his face into the trough and drinking noisily.
Patch kept pumping the handle for his friend and looked up at the statue of Erbo Monash—the man who first formed the Pipers’ Council. Under the plinth was carved a motto: Evil cannot triumph against the music of hope.
It is a pleasant enough sentiment, he thought, but he wasn’t sure that it was true.
Underath and Alkeran stood just outside the Castle Gate and nodded to Patch and Barver as they drew level.
“I thought you’d have gone home by now,” said Barver.
“We both owe you our lives,” said Alkeran. “We’re not going to abandon you when you need us most.” The griffin looked pointedly at Underath. “Isn’t that right?”
“I won’t lie to you,” said the Sorcerer. “It’s never been my nature to do things for a greater good. But facing Quarastus is the closest I’ve come, and I think I’ve developed a taste for it. Besides, Alkeran would never forgive me if I didn’t stay.”
Through the gates, the Castle Guards lined the way, saluting the new arrivals. By the Castle Keep stood the members of the Council, Rundel Stone beside them. Alia and Tobias were overjoyed to be reunited with Lord Drevis, and even Rundel Stone broke from his usual stern expression and managed a smile.
The largest smile of all, though, was on Erner’s face as he hurried over to greet them.
“Patch!” he said. “When Underath and Alkeran brought the news that you were coming, I went to get you this.” He held out a folded brown coat. “I promised you I’d look after it.”
It was the deerskin coat Patch’s grandfather had made for him, which Erner had taken for safekeeping before his trial. “Thank you, Erner,” he said, almost overcome.
After taking out his Pipe, he removed the coat he’d had since escaping Tiviscan—found in the forest soon after he and Wren had met Barver—and put it safely in one of Barver’s harness packs. It had served him well, and he certainly wasn’t going to discard it, but it couldn’t compete with his grandfather’s expert crafting.
He took the deerskin coat from Erner and put it on, tucking his Pipe inside. Plunging his hands into the pockets, he thought of home.
Lord Drevis convened an urgent meeting of the Pipers’ Council, instructing Alia and Tobias to join them along with anyone they thought could provide important insights. Barver, Patch, and Wren came—the heroes who had once actually faced the Hamelyn Piper and triumphed. Underath and Alkeran were there too, while Merta represented the other griffins.
They gathered in the East Hall.
“Virtus Stone and his apprentice will not join us,” said Lord Drevis. “They’ve been working to unmask any more of Lord Pewter’s agents and have a magical device that makes it possible.”
“Have any more been found?” asked Alia.
“None yet,” said Drevis. “With luck, there were only the three who held knives to the Council’s throats. Lord Pewter may be . . .” He shook his head. “We must call him by his real name. Quarastus may be gone for now, but we can be certain he’ll return. At least we can make sure he has no more agents in Tiviscan. In the meantime, there’s a more immediate crisis, and we have plans to draw up. A scouting party has confirmed that the Hamelyn Piper’s forces are approaching from the southeast. Wren’s warning of an alliance with the dragons has proved true. At least a hundred now accompany them, under the command of General Kasterkan—who also led the attack on Skamos.”
Lady Rumsey scowled. “That’s the thing I understand least of all,” she said. “Why would dragons make an ally of their sworn enemy? Surely they know that the Black Knight is the Hamelyn Piper?”
“The dragons helped him in Gossamer Valley too,” said Alia. “Bringing him the same weapons they used in Skamos.”
“The Hamelyn Piper told me the design requires powdered obsidiac, which he supplies,” said Wren. “He showed General Kasterkan how to make them. They had some kind of deal.”
“That explains some of it,” said Lord Winkless. “The dragon military, led by Kasterkan, has claimed power over the Dragon Triumvirate, forcing its members into hiding. How it happened, we don’t know, but he now controls the dragons. Whatever deal they made, it clearly includes helping the Hamelyn Piper’s forces now.”
“You know more about Kasterkan than any of us, Barver,” said Alia. “What do you think?”
Barver frowned. “In spite of all that’s ever happened between the Dragon Triumvirate and the Pipers, there was respect between them—enough to maintain peace between humans and dragons for centuries,” he said. “Kasterkan knows that the Pipers might help the Triumvirate overthrow him.”
Tobias grunted and gave a sour smile. “And so he wants Tiviscan defeated,” he said. “Whatever it takes.” He looked to Lord Drevis. “How much time do we have to prepare?”
“We expect the army to reach Tiviscan by morning,” said Lord Drevis.
Alia and Tobias looked horrified. “Our position is much worse than I feared,” said Alia. “The fate of Skamos could be the fate of Tiviscan . . .”
But there was no such horror on the face of Lord Drevis or any of the Council members.
“There’s no reason to despair,” said Drevis. “The Castle is well provisioned for a siege. The people of Tiviscan will take refuge within its walls, down in the underground stores.”
Alia frowned. “But Skamos,” she said. “We can be sure the dragons have brought more of their terrible weapons.”
“The great Battle Horns in the Keep will protect us,” said Lord Drevis.
“I’m certain that the Hamelyn Piper knows exactly what the Battle Horns are capable of,” said Alia. “Don’t you think he’ll have taken that into account? He knows the limits of our defenses.”
“And those Horns didn’t help much when the dragons last besieged Tiviscan!” snapped Tobias. “All it took was one sneak attack and the Castle was defenseless.”
“We’ll not be taken by surprise again,” said Lord Drevis. “The Pipers of the Keep will begin playing Shielding Songs at nightfall and will not stop until the siege is ended. And as for the Hamelyn Piper knowing the limits of our defenses . . .” He smiled. “That is where his downfall lies. Lord Winkless, if you would explain?”
Lord Winkless nodded. “The Battle Horns have been repaired since the Castle was last attacked,” he said. “News pamphlets across the world have reported an official announcement from the Pipers’ Council stating that the Horns are as good as new. But we lied.” He smiled, with a glint in his eye. “They are not as good as new. They are better.”
“In what way?” asked Alia.
“I carefully studied the remains of the Pipes of the Obsidiac Organ, and—”
Alia gasped. “You used the obsidiac?” she said, glaring at him.
“No!” said Lord Winkless. “But the design of the Pipe Organ revealed other ways to increase the power of the Battle Horns. Their range is far greater and their capabilities well beyond what the Hamelyn Piper would expect. More than powerful enough to protect us from those explosives.”
“And now we have the best Battle Pipers and soldiers that Kintner Bastion could provide,” said Lord Drevis. “When the Black Knight comes, the one thing he’ll not expect is a direct attack on his troops, but that’s what we’ll give him! The combined force of our own army and the Battle Horns will be devastating! The mercenaries and dragons will abandon the fight when they see they can’t win.”
Alia looked to all of the veterans of Skamos and Gossamer Valley. “Those of us who have actually witnessed that weapon being used may not share your confidence, Lord Drevis. Because if you’re wrong, we shall be annihilated.”
28
A Lullaby
I feel useless down here,” moaned Patch.
After the meeting, Alia and Tobias had been very clear about what they expected of Patch and Wren—they would join the civilians of Tiviscan, taking shelter in the safety of the Castle’s underground storage vaults.
There were ten large vaulted chambers, and in each chamber at least a hundred people claimed a little space and tried to find some form of comfort and perhaps even sleep. But sleep was not an easy thing to find in the circumstances. Barver and the griffins were all above ground. The corridors within the stores were too narrow for them, and Patch doubted that Merta and Gaverry could even have made it through the entrance.
“Oh, stop complaining,” said Wren. “The Hamelyn Piper won’t arrive until morning. It’s not like we’re missing anything. And there’s not the slightest chance of me staying down here tomorrow.”
Patch frowned at her. “We gave Alia a solemn promise that we would,” he said. “And I may not like it, but she has a point. Whatever battle rages tomorrow, we’ve already done our bit. It’s down to the soldiers and Pipers now. Alia just wants us out of harm’s way.”
“She feels guilty about what happened in Gossamer Valley, that’s all,” said Wren. “You heard how confident Lord Drevis was. The Hamelyn Piper is about to be defeated once and for all, and I intend to enjoy every minute.”
“Alia didn’t share his confidence,” said Patch.
“Sometimes she just worries too much,” said Wren. “And so do you.”
Soon after midnight, deep tones began to echo around the chamber.
“The Battle Horns!” said Patch. He listened carefully as the tones shifted. The Songs of the vast Battle Horns differed significantly from those played on an ordinary Pipe, and down here only the lowest notes reached them clearly. Even so, Patch recognized the rhythms that underpinned the defensive Songs he knew, which the music of the Battle Horns was based on.
Hushed whispers echoed around the chamber too, accompanied by the gentle sobs of children, terrified by what was going on. Patch saw a few young trainee Pipers huddled in the far corner, their expressions anxious. They gripped their Pipes, he saw, and it made him take his own Pipe from his coat. Holding it was a comfort.
He wished he could be as sure of victory as Wren seemed. Tobias had certainly grown more confident as the plans had been drawn up, convinced that the power of the great Battle Horns would take the Hamelyn Piper by surprise.
But Patch still found it hard to imagine anything protecting them from those exploding spheres.
“Surely you have something for that?” said Wren, rousing him from his thoughts.
“What?” he said, then looked to where she was pointing: two crying toddlers in the arms of their parents. The parents looked distressed, unable to soothe their children. Patch nodded, glad that Wren had drawn him out of himself. “Indeed I do,” he said, and stood, walking to the corner where the five trainee Pipers sat. He kneeled beside them, his voice low. “Which of the Songs of Peace do you all know best?” he said. The five looked at each other, none willing to speak up. “How about Placid Airs, or maybe Gander’s Hush?”
“Gander’s Hush,” said one, and the others nodded. “Although I only know the first section.”
“Well, if you know that part, the rest isn’t so hard,” said Patch. “How about I start, and you join me when you think you’re ready?”
They agreed, and Patch began to play. Gander’s Hush was made of three elements, and while the melody was the most obvious to an untrained ear, there were two deeper parts that changed gradually, with a slow rhythm. He built those up first, and then began the melody. It was a familiar tune—it formed the basis of a popular lullaby and was quickly recognized by many in the chamber.
The trainees began to play too, and people quickly fell silent and listened. Gander’s Hush had a sorrowful component in its melody, but it was one that changed as the Song went on, turning from sorrow to triumph. It took your heart by the hand and acknowledged the sadness within you, before holding you tightly and showing you that things would be better soon.
Patch looked to the toddlers and saw that each now had thumb firmly in mouth, watching him and the trainee Pipers play. Wren was smiling at him. As time passed, the toddlers fell asleep, then the trainees dropped off too. Even so, Patch’s Pipe was not the only one he could hear. Through the entrance to the chamber came the echoes of other Pipes. All were playing Gander’s Hush for the people of Tiviscan, to let them find some comfort in dreams.
Patch woke to the steady thrum of the Battle Horns. He opened his eyes, seeing Erner crouching beside him, gesturing for him to follow. Erner gently woke Wren too, and the three of them went out to the corridor, away from the sleeping citizens.
“I wanted to see how you were both getting on down here,” said Erner. “I would have come last night, but . . .” He yawned. “Sorry. Only got a couple of hours’ sleep. I was helping Virtus Stone.”
