Sebastian Darke: Prince of Pirates (10 page)

Cornelius made a sound of disgust and spat onto the earth at his feet. 'Still think so highly of your precious Leonora now?' he growled. Lit by the glow of the fire, his face looked positively diabolical. 'She's been creeping around in the dark again.'

'Just as
you
were,' snapped Sebastian. 'Only you had cold-blooded murder on your mind. She merely wanted to deprive us of our comfort.'

'Think so? For all she knew we could have been sleeping in there.'

Sebastian sighed and shook his head, realizing that it was pointless to stand there debating the matter. He glanced at Max, who was still pacing anxiously up and down.

'Well, one thing's for certain,' he said. 'For some time now I've been talking about the possibility of making a career change. Looks like I no longer have any choice in the matter.' He took off his jester's hat and threw it into the blaze. The fabric caught fire immediately and went up in a flash of sparks.

The three of them stood there in silence and watched the burning caravan. It went on blazing all through the night.

When the wooden embers of the caravan were finally reduced to a pile of grey ash and blackened timber, they set about rescuing whatever they could. It was precious little. A few metal tools and knife blades had survived, along with a handful of coins and a couple of stone pots, but everything else had perished. Refusing to be downcast, Cornelius set about making backpacks out of the bedrolls, telling the others that maybe it was all for the best.

'That old caravan was only slowing us up,' he said as he stowed his few remaining belongings in his pack. 'It's better this way: we'll travel faster and we can easily buy more provisions when we get to Ramalat. I'm told that the markets there are the finest in the known world. Luckily the treasure map was here at my breast the whole time. If that had been in the caravan, then we really would have been in trouble. So things aren't as bad as they may seem.'

'You are the eternal optimist,' observed Sebastian. 'If somebody had cut off our legs in the night, you'd say it was all the better for us to walk on our hands.'

'Oh, it's not so bad. What was in that caravan anyway?'

'Well, let me see now. Tools, cooking implements, weapons—'

'That's not what I meant. I'll tell you what was in there – a bunch of old memories, tying you to the past. Now you are free to concentrate on the future.'

Max looked particularly unconvinced by this. 'But what am I going to do?' he complained. 'Pulling that caravan was my job. Now I'll only be able to amble about without purpose.'

'Not much change there then,' murmured Cornelius.

Sebastian stroked the buffalope fondly on his great horned head. 'Why don't you find your way back to Mother's?' he suggested. 'You said yourself it's not all that far from here. Cornelius and I can carry on alone; you may as well be back there in a nice comfortable stable.'

Max thought about it for a moment, then snorted and shook his head. 'No fear,' he said. 'For one thing that wicked witch is lurking out there somewhere . . . And yes, young master, I know you'll immediately jump to her defence and say that she's not as bad as all that, but I would rather not risk it. For another thing, I do not relish the prospect of returning to my mistress to tell her that all her late husband's belongings have been destroyed in a fire.'

Sebastian scowled. 'It was everything we had of him,' he murmured. 'All my mother's memories, gone up in smoke. She'll be mortified when she finds out.'

Max shook his head. 'She'll be sad, of course. But though I hate to agree with Cornelius, for once he was right. They were only possessions, young master. Memories – true memories – are what we carry in our hearts. No flame could ever destroy them.'

Cornelius smiled. 'You know, Max, for a simple buffalope you can sometimes be quite eloquent,' he said. He lifted his improvised pack and tested its weight. 'Anyway, I for one am glad to have you along with us.'

'Really?' said Max, surprised.

'Yes. It means you'll be able to carry our packs for us.' He took hold of Sebastian's pack and set about fixing the two of them together to form a pair of makeshift saddlebags.

'Oh, well, that's marvellous, isn't it,' said Max mournfully. 'So nice to know I can still be of service!' He glanced warily at Sebastian. 'Are you sure about this business of abandoning your career? You know, your poor late father wanted nothing more than for you to follow in his footsteps.'

'I realize that. But I may as well face the fact that I have no talent for telling jokes and riddles. I think that much was proved back in Keladon.'

'Hmm. Problem is, young master, what
do
you have a talent for?'

Sebastian shrugged. 'Perhaps we'll find out somewhere on our travels,' he said.

'Here, Sebastian,' said Cornelius. 'Help me tie these packs. We'd best be getting on our way if we ever want to reach Ramalat.'

They tied the packs securely across Max's shaggy back and set off, leaving the great pile of smouldering ash behind them.

Cornelius had been right about one thing: losing the caravan had freed them up considerably. They were able to move off the beaten track and take short cuts, which sped up their progress. When they rested, Cornelius used the time constructively. He cut lengths of supple wood and made himself a primitive bow and some arrows, which he used to hunt their food.

The landscape had begun to change again, and they found the route winding back and forth up steep, wooded hillsides, which Sebastian observed would have been very hard to negotiate with the caravan in tow. They were taking a break around midday when they looked up and saw a mounted figure observing them from a distant hillside. Despite everything that had happened, Sebastian felt the usual flutter in his chest, while Cornelius could only lament that Leonora was out of range of his new bow.

'Why hasn't she galloped on ahead of us?' muttered Max. 'If she knows where the treasure is, she could be there before us and have it all plundered by the time we arrive.'

Cornelius scratched his chin thoughtfully. 'Perhaps she
doesn't
know exactly,' he reasoned. 'I've been thinking about this.' He settled himself cross-legged on the ground. 'My theory is that she reads people's minds – that's how she finds out all their secrets. But the treasure map is complex: I certainly couldn't picture its exact contents.'

'No, and besides, it's Sebastian's mind that she's looked into,' Max reminded him. 'I doubt that she'd find very much in there.'

Sebastian gave him a look of annoyance.

'What?' said Max innocently. 'Well, be fair, young master – could you picture the treasure map in your mind's eye?'

Sebastian shook his head. 'I don't remember much about it,' he admitted.

'Well, then that must be it,' said Max. 'She knows only the approximate whereabouts of the treasure . . . and she needs us to lead her to it.'

Cornelius looked determined. 'There's a long way to go yet,' he said. 'We'll find a way to shake her off or my middle name isn't Algernon.'

Sebastian and Max stared at him in surprise.

'
Is
your middle name Algernon?' asked Max.

Cornelius gave him a disgusted look. 'Of course not,' he said. 'Don't be ridiculous.' He stood up and started walking.

After looking at each other in puzzled silence for a few moments, Sebastian and Max followed. But glancing across to the far hillside, Sebastian saw that Leonora was on the move again, guiding her equine along the wooded track at a leisurely pace, taking her own sweet time, clearly in no great hurry to catch up with them.

They camped that night in a copse and roasted a haunch of velderbrox over the campfire. Cornelius had stumbled across the beast earlier in the day, an elderly male with a broken leg which had become separated from the rest of the herd. Cornelius had reacted instinctively and felled it with a single arrow through the heart. It had been much too big to carry so they had trimmed off the best parts to take with them. Max had been rather upset by the whole business, pointing out that a velderbrox wasn't that far removed from a buffalope and that technically he'd been an accomplice to murder. But even he had to admit that the smell of roasting meat was very appetizing.

'I wonder if that's what I would have smelled like,' he mused, 'if King Septimus had succeeded in having me barbecued.'

'I imagine you would have,' said Cornelius gleefully. 'Actually, I haven't told you this before, but I have dined on roast buffalope in Golmira.'

'Really?' Max looked shocked. 'What did it taste like?'

'Somewhere between a javralat and a velderbrox. Quite succulent. Of course, that was a young beast, not a dried-out, stringy old devil like yourself.'

Max looked positively insulted. 'How dare you! I'm in my prime,' he said. 'I've no doubt I would taste delicious. What do you say, young master?'

Sebastian smiled. 'I think I'll stick to velderbrox, thank you. Anyway,
you
can't talk, Max. I seem to remember that on the journey to Keladon, a certain hungry buffalope partook of javralat meat—'

'I was
starving
!' protested Max, glancing around anxiously. 'And please keep your voice down. I'm not proud of what I did!'

'You ate some gallock eggs too,' Cornelius reminded him. 'Hardly a usual meal for a buffalope. Are you sure I can't tempt you with a little morsel of velderbrox?'

Max turned away and began to chomp on the surrounding vegetation with exaggerated fervour.

As Sebastian and Cornelius settled down to eat, the little warrior noticed the twinkling light of another campfire off in the distance.

'She's still with us then,' he observed, 'your friend Leonora.' He studied Sebastian as he spoke.

'She's no friend of mine,' said Sebastian unconvincingly.