Deltora Quest #6: The Maze of the Beast (3 page)

B
arda leaned closer to the stone. “Are you mad?” he shouted. “We are not enemies! We are known to Doom. And if you could see us you would know that we have your friend here.”

“You
can
be seen, believe me,” answered the voice behind the rock. “There are a dozen weapons aimed at you this moment. Do not move.”

Startled, the companions looked around them. They could see no one. Jasmine took a step back. A ball of flame slammed into the ground beside her, showering her with sparks. She beat out the sparks frantically.

“I told you not to move!” called the voice. “Do so again at your peril.”

“Call Neridah and Glock!” Jasmine called, her voice high with shock. “They are with you, I know. Doom saved them from the Grey Guards, as he saved us. They will recognize our faces.”

There was the sound of hollow laughter. “So they may. But in these parts we know better than to judge by appearances. That is why there is a password. Do you know it or not?”

“Of course!” Lief shouted.

“Lief!” hissed Jasmine.

“If I had said no, they would have killed us!” Lief hissed back. “They would have thought we were Ols!”

“They will kill us anyway, once they realize you are lying!” Jasmine’s fists were clenched with frustration and anger. “This is madness!”

Lief shook his head desperately. “Dain mentioned a password. But he could not have known the password for today, for he has been long away. He must have planned to find it out once he got here. And if he could do that, so can we! There must be a code, a sign …”

“Where?” Jasmine demanded.

“Perhaps they all carry a list, with one word marked for every day,” Barda said.

“That, surely, would be too dangerous,” muttered Lief. “Still …” He threw Dain’s pack to the ground and rapidly began searching through it. But as he expected he found nothing printed — only travellers’ supplies, a few spare clothes, and the empty jar of Quality Brand honey.

Quality Brand
.

He snatched up the jar and stared at it. Suddenly an idea had come to him. He scrabbled in his pocket for the note he had found under the bush.

“I grow tired of this game. You have the count of ten to reply!” called the voice from behind the rock. “One, two …”

“Wait!” Lief cried. His fingers closed on the note. He pulled it out and quickly read it again, hoping against hope that he was right. The printed words danced in front of his eyes.

WHEN ENEMIES AT PASS, ORDERS NORMAL.

Yes! What he saw here could surely not be just chance. He was right. Surely he was right. He took a deep breath and let the paper fall.

“The password is — ‘weapon,’” he shouted.

“Lief, how do you know that?” hissed Barda. “What —”

He broke off as, slowly, the boulder that masked the stronghold’s entrance began to roll aside, and light poured through the gap from the cavern within.

In the light stood a wiry little man wearing a strange assortment of garments in every color of the rainbow. Below his striped woollen cap, grey hair twisted with feathers hung to his waist.

Lief felt Barda give a start, but there was no time to ask him what was the matter, for the little man was grinning, showing two or three crooked teeth and a broad expanse of pink gums.

“You took your time!” he boomed, in the deep, powerful voice that did not suit his appearance at all. “Does it amuse you to dance with death? I was within a hair of giving the order to fire.”

He peered shortsightedly at the limp figure in Barda’s arms. “So the little boy has had an adventure and come to grief!” he said. “Well, well. Who would have thought it? And him always so careful of himself!”

As the companions hesitated, he beckoned impatiently. “Well, don’t just stand there!” he exclaimed. “You are letting in the cold.” He turned his head. “Thalgus! Petronne!” he bellowed. “All is well. Put down your weapons and come down. You must see to Dain. He has been carried home like a babe in arms, the poor poppet.”

Lief and Jasmine slipped through the entrance. Barda followed more slowly. As he stepped into the light, the little man gazed up at his face and burst into noisy laughter. “Barda!” he roared. “Barda the Bear! Who would have believed it? After all these years! By my stars, I thought you were dead! Do you know me?”

“Of course I know you, Jinks,” said Barda, smiling rather stiffly. “But this is the last place I would have expected to find you.”

He paused as a roughly dressed man and an equally ragged woman — Thalgus and Petronne, presumably — jumped down to the ground from somewhere high above the doorway. He allowed them to take Dain’s slight weight from his arms. Then he turned to Jasmine and Lief. “Jinks was one of the acrobats at the palace in Del,” he explained, his voice revealing nothing. “He knew me well, when I was a palace guard.”

“A palace guard? Why, the strongest and bravest of all, so it was said!” Jinks chattered, following Petronne and Thalgus as they carried Dain towards a larger cavern from which came the hum of many voices. “But Barda, I heard that all the guards were killed the day the Shadow Lord came. How did you escape the slaughter?”

“By chance I had left the palace before it began,” Barda murmured. “And you?”

The little man wrinkled his nose. “The invaders cared nothing for the clowns and acrobats!” he jeered. “We were no more important than pet dogs to them. They let us scatter as we would. We tumbled over the wall while they shed the blood of fine lords and ladies, destroyed the palace guards, and took the place apart searching for our courageous king and queen, who were hiding somewhere trembling in their golden boots.”

He grinned again, and this time the smile had a touch of teasing malice. “So! You managed to run away just in time to save yourself, Barda the Bear!” he crowed. “Cleverly done! Your fellows were all killed defending the palace, but not you! You must be very proud of yourself.”

Lief glanced quickly at Barda and saw that his face had tightened with pain.

“Barda did not know what was going to happen that day!” he exclaimed angrily. “He left the palace the night before because his mother had been killed, and he feared he would be next!”

“Never mind, Lief,” Barda muttered. He turned to Jinks, and Lief could tell that he was forcing himself to speak politely. “You would be doing me a great favor if you would not speak of my past to anyone else, Jinks. I prefer it to be secret.”

The little man opened his eyes wide. “Why, of course, Barda!” he said smoothly. “I quite understand your position — even if your young friend does not. These are hard times, and we cannot all be heroes. Why, I myself am the world’s greatest coward!” They reached the entrance to the larger cavern and he stood back, gesturing gracefully for them to enter. “Mind you,
I
do not pretend to be anything else,” he added, as Barda passed him.

The cavern was large, lit by flickering torches and filled with groups of men, women, and children of many different ages. Food was already cooking on several fires, and straw mattresses lined the walls.

“Why do you let him call you a coward?” Jasmine whispered to Barda angrily, ignoring the faces turned to stare at the newcomers. “For that is what he is doing!”

“I am well aware of what he is doing,” said Barda grimly, staring straight ahead. “I know Jinks of old. He was a fine acrobat, but a more gossiping, jealous, spiteful, troublemaking piece of mischief was never born. Meeting him here is ill fortune indeed. Whatever he promises, by morning every person here will know everything about me.”

“Dain already knows your name,” Lief pointed out.

“The name is not so important,” Barda growled. “The other details —”

He broke off as Jinks came bustling up to them, clapping his hands to gain the attention of everyone in the cavern.

“Here are some friends who have come to join us!” the little man cried. “They brought poor young Dain home. It seems he decided to go adventuring, and bit off more than he could chew.”

He sniggered, glancing at the pale figure of Dain, who had been put down on a mattress of straw in a corner and was at last beginning to stir. Several other people laughed in reply, and Lief felt a hot flush of irritation. He opened his mouth to speak, but Jasmine was before him.

“Dain saved us from two Ols,” she said loudly. “His bravery was very great.”

“Is that so?” called a voice from the crowd. “Who are you to talk of bravery, Birdie of Bushtown?”

And out of the crowd pushed the swaggering, lumbering figure of Glock.

G
lock stood sneering and glowering at Jasmine by turns, his powerful arms hanging loosely by his sides, his small eyes glinting. Every line of his powerful body showed that he was looking for a fight.

“Hello, Glock,” said Jasmine calmly. “The last time I saw you, you were being carried out of the Rithmere arena, fast asleep. What a pity you could not stay awake for the final.”

Several people laughed. Plainly they had heard the story. Glock’s heavy face darkened and seemed to swell. He growled dangerously and his fingers twitched.

Out of the corner of his eye Lief saw Jinks watching, his face alive with mischievous interest. So Jinks was the sort who loved to stir up trouble, then stand back and watch the results. A dangerous man — as dangerous as Glock, in his way.

Just then there was the sound of banging from outside the cavern. Three slow taps, followed by three quick ones. Fleetingly, Jinks looked disappointed. Then he turned and scurried out, with Petronne and Thalgus close behind him.

“What is the password?” they heard him call.

“Weapon!” came the reply. The voice was muffled, but Lief thought he recognized it. Doom had returned.

Glock took no notice whatever. He was still intent on Jasmine.

“I should have been Champion, you little piece of slime!” he snarled. “If we had fought, your dancing, jumping tricks would not have deceived me. I would have crushed you to pulp with one hand tied behind my back!”

Jasmine stared at him in disgust. “Fortunately, your greed ensured that you did not have the chance to try,” she said.

Glock roared, and grabbed at her. She sprang aside, smiling disdainfully as he stumbled, his great paws clawing at empty air.

“That is enough!”

Doom was standing, scowling, in the entrance. His face was seamed with lines of tiredness, his long, tangled black hair and beard were streaked with dust, and the jagged scar showed pale on his deeply tanned skin.

“There is to be no fighting in this place!” he thundered. “Glock, you have been warned before. One more
outburst and you will be turned out of the stronghold. Then you will no longer be under our protection when the Grey Guards come for you.”

Glock turned and lumbered off, grumbling and casting evil looks over his shoulder. No one made a sound, but Lief saw a tall woman put her hand over her mouth to hide a smile. The woman was Neridah. She saw Lief watching, and her smile grew broader and more teasing. He looked away, his face growing hot as he remembered the shame she had caused him in the Rithmere arena.

Doom’s angry eyes were now fixed on Jasmine. “And you,” he added coldly, “will guard your sharp tongue, if you know what is good for you.”

In the silence that followed he turned abruptly and went to the mattress where Dain was resting. By now, the boy had managed to sit up.

“So,” Doom said. “You have returned at last, Dain. You were expected days ago. Where have you been?”

Dain flushed deep red. “I saw a pair of Ols, Doom,” he mumbled. “Grade One only. I followed them —”

“Alone!” Doom snapped. “You followed them alone. You went out of your way, disobeying orders, failing to arrive here when expected.”

Dain hung his head. But Doom had not finished. “And I have been told” — he glanced at Jinks, who tried and failed to look innocent — “I have been told that you chose to endanger all our lives by telling these untested strangers the secret of the password.”

There was an angry murmuring in the cavern.

Finally Dain found his tongue. “Indeed — indeed I did not tell them, Doom,” he said.

“Then how did they gain entry?” Doom’s voice was icy. “You, I gather, did not even see today’s note. Yet they were able to give the word.”

“It was not difficult to work out,” Lief said, stepping forward hastily. “The note said, ‘WHEN ENEMIES AT PASS, ORDERS NORMAL.’ The first letters of those words spell the password — ‘WEAPON.’”

As Doom glared at him, he shrugged and threw caution to the winds. He was not going to be bullied like Dain. “I had a clue to the code, of course,” he said loudly. “I had already seen the label on Dain’s jar of honey. ‘Quality Brand.’ There, too, initials are used to disguise the truth. Why are you afraid for it to be known that you use Queen Bee honey?”

Another loud murmur arose from the crowd. Doom barked an order and immediately Lief, Barda, and Jasmine were seized from behind by several pairs of strong hands. They struggled, but it was no use.

“What are you doing?” Lief spluttered. “I meant no harm by my question! I was simply interested.”

“Then you would have done better to hold your tongue,” said Doom, his eyes hard as stones. “You have stumbled on a secret we are sworn to protect. It is forbidden to trade with the Resistance. And Queen Bee honey is even more rare and valuable than Queen Bee cider. It has amazing healing powers. The lady risks much by
supplying it to us. She risks not only her own life, but the lives of her sons.”

Now it was Lief’s turn to stare. The idea of the wild old woman they had met after their escape from the Plain of the Rats being a mother seemed very strange.

“It is nothing to us if Queen Bee supplies you with honey,” growled Barda. “Who would we tell?”

“Your Master, perhaps,” called Jinks, his small eyes gleaming with excitement. “Is that why you were allowed to escape from the palace, Brave Guard Barda? Had you sold yourself to the Shadow Lord even then?”

Barda lunged forward in fury, but the hands that held him jerked him back.

“Be silent, Jinks!” roared Doom. He gazed at Barda thoughtfully for a moment.

“So,” he murmured. “You were a palace guard. Your real name is Barda. And where were you hiding for all those years, Barda — before you began travelling the countryside with your young companions?”

“That is my affair,” said Barda, meeting his eyes squarely. “I choose to keep it to myself. As, I think, you choose to keep to yourself your own whereabouts in those early years, Doom.”

“Your whereabouts —
and
your real name,” Jasmine muttered.

Doom glanced at her quickly. His mouth tightened. He turned once again to Barda.

“Were you in Tora?” he asked bluntly.

At this, Dain, who had been slumped on the mattress with his head bowed, looked up eagerly.

But Barda looked blank. “Tora?” he repeated. “What is this fascination with Tora, among you? No, I have never been to Tora in my life.”

Doom abruptly turned away. “Take them to the testing room,” he snapped. “I will speak to them again when the three days have passed.”

“Let us go!” Jasmine shouted, as they were dragged to the cavern door. “There is no reason to imprison us! You know that we are not Ols! You know it!”

Doom lifted his chin. “We shall see,” he said.

Locked in the small, brightly lit cave that Doom called “the testing room,” the three companions spent three weary days. A barred window was set into the heavy wooden door, and at all times a face stared through it, watching their every move.

Their possessions were with them. Even their weapons had not been taken from them. Trays of food were pushed under the door, and they had plenty of water. But there was no privacy, no darkness, no peace.

By the third day even Barda was desperate. Jasmine lay curled on a bunk, her hands over her face. Kree sat in a corner of the cell, his wings drooping. Lief paced in an agony of impatience, feeling time tick away.

He cursed the day they had met Dain — then remembered that if it had not been for Dain, he, Barda, and Jasmine would all be dead. He cursed Doom’s suspicion — then remembered his own shock when sweet little Marie had changed to a specter bent on killing.

But had Dain not said that Doom could sense an Ol? If so, then Doom knew full well that Lief, Barda, and Jasmine were what they seemed. Why then, was he keeping them here?

He wants to keep us by him. The three-day test is an excuse — something the others in the cavern will accept and understand. He wants to know what we are up to. He hopes that after this we will tell him.

The idea shone clearly in Lief’s mind. He knew it was the truth.

Well, you are wrong, Doom, or whatever your name may be, he thought grimly. We will never tell you of our cause. And that is because we still do not know whether you are friend, or foe.

They had lost track of time. They did not know whether it was day or night. But it was in fact exactly seventy-two hours and five minutes after they first entered the cavern that they heard a hiss from the window in the door.

Peering through the bars was Dain, no longer bent with pain, but upright, and with his arm free of its sling. His face was set and determined, though Lief saw that the fingers resting on the window were trembling.

“The three days have passed,” he whispered, as the three companions gathered by the door. “You no longer need to be watched. But Doom still delays setting you free. I do not know why, and I feel it is not right. I will lead you out of here. But only if you promise me that you will take me with you. To Tora.”