The guard-tower was dark, silent and cobwebby.
Doors swung back and forth in the wind. Leaves scuttled over the paving stones. Windows gaped with broken glass.
Tom was beginning to think the whole castle was virtually deserted when he heard the distant neighing of a horse, and the pounding of hooves on stone. He tensed, sliding his hand to his dagger. Beside him, Fergus growled. Fergus did not like this vast, cold, deserted castle any more than Tom did.
The little girl led them through the inner ward, where the neighing and the thumping of hooves were louder.
‘That poor horse,’ Elanor said. ‘It’ll hurt itself.’
Tom looked towards the row of stables. Elanor’s ring was shining brightly, showing the heavy bolts that secured one of the doors. The shrill neighing and pounding of hooves was coming from inside that stable.
‘Come on,’ Sebastian called back over his shoulder. The little girl looked back too, her candle wavering in the gusty wind and almost blowing out. Tom and Elanor hurried to catch up. Behind them, the neighing became more shrill, the thunder of the hooves more emphatic.
‘I don’t like this place,’ Quinn said. ‘Why is that horse so troubled? And where is everyone?’
Ahead was another great arched doorway. The little girl opened one half of the door and led them inside the hall. It was a vast, shadowy space, with a high vaulted ceiling supported by oaken beams. A huge table ran down the centre, its wooden top scarred from years of rough use. Iron candelabras hung above it, dripping icicles of wax nearly as large as those stone structures in the underground cave. Hanging on the wall were hundreds of animal skulls, many with antlers, tusks or horns.
At the far end was the grandest fireplace Tom had ever seen. It was large enough to roast a dragon, if such things existed. A small fire smouldered within, hardly big enough to roast a sparrow. It cast a faint orange light over the floor, which was carpeted with animal hides. Many hundreds of them were spread down the length of the hall, overlapping each other. Tom saw thick black bear skins, deer hides, wolf pelts, the fur of foxes, beaver, rabbits and sables, plus many more he could not identify.
‘Someone likes hunting,’ said Sebastian.
Quinn’s bare toes curled. She looked a little sick.
The wolf pelts reminded Tom of the wild man and the warning he had given. He had been right. Danger had come, and the castle had been invaded. Tom’s mother and all his friends were prisoners. If only Tom had made more effort to warn the lord … If only he had insisted on delivering the message. Perhaps the castle could have been saved. Tom gripped his longbow and swore he would not fail in this quest. He had to find the four magical beasts and awaken the sleeping heroes!
‘I do not like this place, either,’ Elanor said, looking around her, timidly.
The little girl crossed the hall, leading to a door that showed steps leading up. She turned to them and beckoned, and reluctantly the four followed.
The little girl took her thumb out of her mouth so she could lift the heavy folds of her dress as she climbed the stairs. On her feet were high-heeled satin shoes, also far too big for her. Her legs were stick-thin and ice-white. Sebastian followed close behind, his hand on his sword-hilt. Tom brought up the rear, looking around warily. On all sides were bare, empty rooms. There were no carpets or tapestries, no side-tables or brass bowls, no chairs, chests or beds. Fergus’s toenails clicked loudly on the stone.
Up and up they climbed, into the tower. At last the little girl opened a doorway and led the way into a room that blazed with warmth and light.
A fire blazed on the hearth. Silver candelabras filled with candles glimmered from the mantelpiece and table, and red velvet curtains shut out the sound of the wind and the rain. A chaise lounge in the same colour was drawn up by the fire, and the most beautiful lady Tom had ever seen reclined upon it. Her hair and eyes were black, her skin was white, and she was dressed in a gown of red silk, embroidered with golden roses and pale lilies. Her sleeves were long and flowing, showing golden silk beneath. She wore ropes of golden pearls, and a huge ring flashed red fire on her left hand.
She stood up as the children came into the room and held out her hands. ‘Why, how lovely. Visitors! Welcome to Frostwick Castle. I am Lady Mortlake.’
‘Lady, my foot,’ muttered a low voice from the corner. ‘My son found you starving on a street-corner. You are no more a lady than I am a maiden.’
Tom craned his head and saw a skinny old woman sitting on a low stool, bent before a spinning-wheel. She was dressed in what looked like a sack. A large hooked nose jutted through grey hair that straggled around her bony face. She was spinning dirty-grey wool into lumpy thread.
Lady Mortlake drew herself up, her eyes flashing with fury. ‘How dare you? One day you will regret how you speak to me—’
She cut herself short, rearranging her face into a sweet smile. ‘Please don’t mind my mother-in-law, she’s so old she doesn’t know where she is, or what she does.’
‘I know enough to recognise a bloodsucking leech when I see one,’ the old woman mumbled, through stumps of teeth.
Lady Mortlake’s smile stiffened. She beckoned the children towards the fire, away from the old woman at her spinning-wheel. ‘Now, who are you, dear children, and what can I do to assist you?’
Elanor swept a graceful curtsey. ‘I am Lady Elanor of Wolfhaven Castle. I beg pardon for our intrusion, but we have come to ask for help and shelter.’
For a moment Lady Mortlake stood motionless, as if surprised. Then she smiled and swept forward to embrace Elanor. ‘My dear, sweet child. How lovely to meet you. I have heard so much about you! Heavens, you are even prettier than I had expected. Come and sit down and let us get acquainted. For, if I am to be your new mama-in-law, we must be friends, mustn’t we?’
Elanor gave a little squeak of distress. ‘Oh, no … I’m sorry, my lady, but there’s some kind of misunderstanding. There is no betrothal … your son Cedric and I are not to be married … My father wants me to marry for love, as he did. But not for some time.’
‘I see,’ the lady of the castle said slowly, her hands dropping from Elanor’s shoulders. She sat down again, arranging her skirts more becomingly. ‘Why then are you here?’
‘Our castle has been attacked, and my father taken prisoner. We had to escape in the dead of the night. Oh, we have walked so far and we are so tired and hungry. Please will you help us?’
‘Of course,’ Lady Mortlake smiled. ‘Are we not friends and allies?’
‘How do you plan to help anyone but yourself, you greedy fool?’ said the old woman malevolently. ‘There’s not a man left in the place, nor a sword that’s not as blunt as a butter knife. As for food and shelter? The barrel is empty, have you forgotten? There’s not a crumb in the house, not a heel of dry bread, not a sausage.’
Fergus beat his tail on the carpet and whined hopefully at the last word.
‘Good heavens!’ Lady Mortlake said, pressing one hand against her nose. ‘What on earth is that?’
‘He’s a dog,’ Tom replied shortly.
‘A dog,’ the lady replied, her nostrils wrinkling. ‘How … how … lovely. Does he eat much? Because I’m afraid my dear, sweet mother-in-law is right. We were not expecting visitors, and our larder is rather bare …’
‘So it has been for years, ever since you married my poor son and spent all his coin,’ the old woman snapped.
‘Enough!’ Lady Mortlake shrieked. She took a few deep breaths, then smiled again. ‘Please forgive my poor, dear mother-in-law. She is getting more scatterbrained every day.’
‘Scatterbrained! I’ll have you know my wit is sharp as a blade. So is your tongue, worst luck.’
Lady Mortlake clasped her hands together. ‘I do hate meanness of spirit … it’s like a dagger to my heart.’
The old woman harrumphed.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Lady Mortlake looked up and tried to smile. ‘But enough about me and my problems. You said you need my help? Anything! Simply tell me what you require.’
Elanor leaned forward in her eagerness. ‘My father’s castle has been attacked. We need help … men and arms …’
‘Ah, impossible. My husband and his men are away from home.’
Elanor clasped her hands together. ‘My father and all his people have been taken prisoner. We need to rescue them!’
‘But what can we do? No, it’s totally impractical.’
‘We need to raise an army, we need to rouse the country folk and ask them for help, we need to march back to the castle—’
‘March? I? Oh, my sweet girl, it’s out of the question.’
‘But what of your husband and his men? Can we not send a message to them?’
‘But who would carry the message? My poor daughter?’ She indicated the little girl, big-eyed and sucking her thumb. ‘My poor, mad mother-in-law?’ She waved at the old woman. ‘I? It is utterly unfeasible.’
‘I could take a message to the lord,’ Sebastian said. ‘Just tell me where to go.’
‘Me too!’ Tom cried.
‘We’ll all go,’ Quinn said.
Lady Mortlake tinkled an affectionate laugh. ‘Oh, sweet children. What kind of hostess do you think I am, to send you out into the howling storm at midnight? No, no, it simply cannot be done.’
For a moment, Elanor drooped. But then she rallied herself. ‘If you could give us a bed for the night, we’ll go in search of your husband in the morning.’
‘A bed? My sweet, there’s not a spare stick of furniture in the place. All sold, I’m afraid.’
‘Except for your own four-poster,’ the old woman pointed out.
‘Well, yes, but I can hardly be expected to be turned out of my own bed for a mob of uninvited children.’ Lady Mortlake shuddered. ‘Not to mention that beast you call a dog.’
Fergus thumped his tail.
‘There must be somewhere we can sleep,’ Quinn exclaimed.
‘You can put us anywhere. Even in the stable, if you like,’ Elanor said.
Lady Mortlake looked horrified. ‘No, no, I couldn’t do that.’
‘We are so tired,’ Quinn said.
‘And hungry,’ Sebastian added.
Lady Mortlake sighed. ‘You want food too? Surely I’ve explained there’s not a crumb in the whole castle.’
They all stood in silence, drooping in disappointment. Nobody knew what to do.
‘Eugenie! Stop sucking your thumb! Do you want teeth like a rabbit?’ Lady Mortlake snapped. Eugenie took her thumb out of her mouth. Lady Mortlake waved a languid hand. ‘Well, it’s late and I am sure you are all tired. Eugenie! Put our dear guests in the Queen’s Suite.’
‘That doesn’t sound too bad,’ Quinn said reassuringly to Elanor, who was looking very white and anxious.
Eugenie took the four children to a vast, echoing room with an old straw mattress tossed in a corner. The glass in the windows was broken, the hearth was filled with fallen birds’ nests, and cobwebs draped the empty candelabra. Even worse, the little girl took away the only candle when she left.
Tom did not much like the look of the mattress, which was half-chewed by rats, and so they huddled together in the corner of the room, hungry, cold, tired, and miserable.
‘What is more powerful than love, and more evil than hatred?’ Quinn said dreamily. ‘The poor have it and the rich need it. The dead taste it all the time, but if the living eat it, they will die.’
‘Whatever it is, it sounds horrible,’ Elanor said.
‘Quinn, now’s not the time for riddles.’ Tom spoke wearily, his head resting on his arm.
‘Every time is the time for riddles.’
‘I don’t get it,’ Sebastian said. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Yet you yourself spoke the answer,’ she said.
‘Quinn, don’t be so annoying. I wish you’d never got apprenticed to that stupid witch,’ Tom said.
‘Arwen is not stupid! And riddles are not stupid either. They make us wise.’
Elanor said timidly, ‘But how?’
Quinn spoke with deep fervour. ‘Riddles make us think harder and deeper and stronger. They make us look at the world aslant. They teach us that we can solve what seems unsolvable, if we try hard enough.’
‘So our bellies are empty and we’re freezing cold. How can you solve that?’ Sebastian spoke with heavy sarcasm.
Tom jumped up. ‘Let’s go down to that great hall. We can throw some more wood on the fire, and wrap ourselves in those animal skins.’
‘A fine idea, except for the animal skins,’ Quinn said, getting up. ‘I am so stiff and cold. Look, my shawl is so wet I can wring water out of it!’
Sebastian pulled Elanor to her feet. ‘Come on. If we get a good night’s sleep, it’ll all seem better in the morning.’
Fergus yawned, got to his feet and stretched, then followed his master with a wagging tail. Tom groped his way through the darkness to the door, then turned the door handle and pulled.
The door did not open.
He yanked harder, twisting and pulling the handle so hard the door rattled. Then he kicked it. ‘We’ve been locked in!’