The horrid silence from outside the window continued for a long while. The children could feel the goose flesh on their arms.
Then the horsemen began to ride around the tower, trying to find a way in. Inside, in the darkness, the rumble of their hooves as they galloped 'round seemed to shake the very foundations of the tower. All the occupants of the room, including the Queen, were lying on the floor, in case one of the horsemen should try to fire an arrow through the window.
"What are they doing?" whispered Colin.
"Trying to confuse and scare us I shouldn't wonder," said Darach.
"Well, they're succeeding," whispered Benedick. "Is there nothing we can do?"
"Not really."
"But there's only six of them when all said and done," exclaimed one of the oarsmen. "Me and the lads, we'd make mince of 'em, wouldn't we?"
The others murmured their support.
"Brawn is little use against these creatures," said Darach.
"What – you mean – they use magic?"
"I'm afraid so."
"We destroyed one though," said Graham.
"There you go, gov'ner. I mean, if a few kids –"
"There was only one of them, in daylight. It was the sun that destroyed it, though the children were instrumental."
"Will they – disappear at dawn?" asked the Queen.
"No, Your Majesty, they won't – poof! – disappear just like that. I'm afraid that sort of magic is only fairy-tale stuff. But the odds are for us in daylight, and most heavily against us in the hour when the moon has disappeared, and the sun is behind the cloud. No light – just the gloom. They know the gloom – it is their master. Their powers are at full height then."
"I see," replied the Queen. "So you are suggesting that we lie in this highly uncomfortable position until they make up their minds to dispose of us?"
"Yes. Until anybody comes up with an alternative."
"Well hurry up," she said. "I'm aching from head to foot." The galloping stopped.
A voice drifted up through the window, and when it entered the room it was like a phantom touching them all with icy fingers.
"You are trapped, Wizard" it said. "Give up your charges, and remain unharmed. Your Majesty, we know you too are in the tower. Command him to let the children down to us through the window, and live to preserve your line."
"Young man –" began the Queen.
"Young?" returned the haunting voice. "I'm not young. Nor am I a man, if you were to look at me."
"Well I am sure that's your misfortune. I shall not give up these children to you now or ever. I suggest you and your hoodlum companions depart forthwith."
Silence.
"Is that your final word?"
"It is."
Another silence.
Suddenly there was a resounding crash and a splintering sound.
"They're trying to break in!"
One of the oarsmen leapt to his feet. "I'll stop 'em," he cried.
"Down!" yelled Darach.
Too late! An arrow cut through the moonlight and hit him in the shoulder. He fell to the floor with a cry.
Gwen screamed.
There was a moment's quiet, then they heard the riders hacking at the door again.
"Is he all right?" said Gwen.
"Yes, he'll survive," one of his companions said, removing the arrow and staunching the wound with a large handkerchief.
"They'll break through for sure," said Colin. "We can't just lie here."
The door lay directly opposite the window. Anyone who tried to open it was an easy target, especially for a creature who was used to firing in the dark.
"We could cover the window," suggested Graham. "Good," said Darach. "Ma'am, your cloak, if you please."
"What on earth -"
"Your cloak. And kindly hurry."
The Queen unclipped the brooch at her neck and slipped off her cloak.
"Graham," said Darach, "keep well down, and take the other side of the cloak - that's it - now, you slide over to that side of the window, and I'll position myself on this side. Keep your head down, boy."
Darach and Graham crouched either side of the window, with the heavy cloak between them.
Downstairs, the door was already giving under the storm of blows. "Now," said Darach, "this is the plan. If anybody tries to leave this room he's an easy target for the marksman outside. So, when Graham and I cover up the window, I want you to get outside as quickly as you can and wait on the landing. Probably they'll fire a couple of arrows at the cloak, so keep well clear of it. Now, which of you is going to volunteer to go outside?"
"I will, sir," said the wounded oarsman's companion.
"Very well," said Darach, fumbling in one of his pockets. "Now where are we? Ah! There we are - catch!"
He threw a silver bottle across the room. The man caught it. "What's this for?"
"Once you're outside the door, take out the stopper and make a trail of the stuff in the bottle down the stairs, and leave the bottle on the next to last step. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good. Ready Graham?"
"Ready."
They hoisted the cloak over the window. Darkness. Three arrows pierced the heavy material and thudded into the door. But the man was outside.
The sound of breaking wood continued. Then there was a sound from outside the door.
"I've done it. Can I come in?"
"Yes - but don't close the door completely." There was a scuffling in the darkness.
"I'm in!" the man's voice said.
Graham and Darach dropped the cloak, and the moonlight poured in. Seven arrows hit the door, one after the other.
The sound of chopping and splintering from down the stairs ceased. "They're coming up," said Colin.
"Quickly man!" ordered Darach. "Light the trail and hurry."
They could hear hushed whispers, and boots on the stone steps. The oarsman fumbled with the flint.
"Hurry, man!"
The oarsman reached through the door and touched flame to the trail of powder leading down the stairs to the silver bottle.
At that moment, the first horseman reached the top of the stairs, and grabbed the oarsman's arm. The well-muscled oarsman pulled his assailant's hand through the door and closed it on the black-gloved wrist as hard as he could. There was a muffled yell, and the horseman released his grip. The hand was hastily withdrawn.
Immediately, the oarsman slammed the door, and as he did so a handstroke cleft the wood three or four inches above his head.
"Did you light the powder?" said Darach.
"I think so!"
Another handstroke. The wood split.
"Close your eyes everyone. Tight! And keep them closed."
There was a short, sharp explosion and a high-pitched shattering sound. Even with their eyes tightly closed the company momentarily saw a flash, with thousands and thousands of tiny fragments of pure light spiralling off in all directions.
Something heavy slumped against the opposite side of the door, and slowly slid down it.
There was a great deal of confused shouting from outside the tower. "A light!" one voice cried. "They have alchemy!"
"Back! Back!" shouted another. "They may attack again."
"It is the wizard's doing," cried a third.
They opened their eyes, the flash still making strange patterns in front of them, as if they had been staring at the sun. A few wisps of pale blue smoke drifted in from under the door. "Three down," said Darach, "three to go."
"What did you do?" asked Colin.
"A little alchemy," he explained. "As the rider said. Light is their enemy. It can destroy them if it touches them."
"Have you any more?"
"Unfortunately no. Still, perhaps we've scared them off." His optimism was short-lived.
Presently a voice was heard calling up through the window.
"You are armed, wizard," it said, "but your tricks have only won you a temporary respite. We can wait. The hour is close at hand when all light will be extinguished. Then we will destroy you - not with swords, but with hooves!"