Deep Amber (11 page)

At that moment the back door banged, and Simon tumbled in, looking rather breathless and holding his sword.

The effect on the stranger was instantaneous. He leapt across the kitchen, his sword in front of him, disarmed Simon with a flick of the wrist, and had him pinned to the wall before Cat even had time to scream.

“Halt, and declare your business, miscreant knight!” commanded the stranger.

Cat grabbed the knight's arm and pulled. “What are you doing?” she said. “Leave him alone! He
lives
here!”

“Ah,” said the knight, lowering his sword. “My apologies, sir. You are perhaps this most ravishing young lady's brother?” He looked questioningly at Cat, who nodded weakly. The knight sheathed his sword, and bowed.

“Gentle lady, and good sir knight,” he said, “I am Sir Bedwyr. You have called me forth by your magicks, and I am bound to whatever quest comes my way in this strange land.”

Cat swallowed, and waved her hand in a kind of
general greeting. Magic? Her legs felt rather weak. There seemed no point in denying it any more… there
was
magic, and there
was
another world – and it looked as if someone from that other world had just crashed right into their kitchen.

The knight turned to his horse, and gave it a pat on the shoulder. “And my gallant steed, Dappletoes, is at your service also.”

“Dappletoes?” said Cat. Despite her shock, she felt a strong desire to giggle.

Sir Bedwyr coughed, and coloured slightly. “Dappletoes was given me by a lady, who bade me call him so. I have fought many knights who dared to laugh at his name,” he added, with a frown at Simon. Simon was trying very hard not to explode with laughter and he looked like he might be in danger of choking as a result.

“You find the name amusing, young sir?” said Sir Bedwyr, and put his hand to his sword with a meaningful look.

“N-no, no, of course not!” said Simon, but he was very red in the face and Sir Bedwyr was starting to look tetchy, so Cat decided she had better intervene. She moved in front of Simon, and bowed slightly to the knight.

“Thank you for… er… responding to my magic,” she said. “We are very pleased to meet you.”

Sir Bedwyr took Cat's hand and kissed it. “My lady,” he said, looking at her appreciatively. “I am at your service. But – if it would please you – a jug of mead would be most welcome after my long journey.”

“Um… I'm not sure we've got any mead,” said Cat, blushing at the kiss. “How about a cup of tea?”

Sir Bedwyr bowed. “Any refreshments would be most welcome, my lady. Especially from such a fair hand as yours.”

It was quite hard to make tea with a large white horse in the way, especially when Sir Bedwyr insisted on showering Cat with non-stop compliments and appreciative glances, making her get all flustered and forget where the tea-bags were kept. Eventually though, the knight was happily settled at the kitchen table, slurping his tea and examining a cheese sandwich with interest, allowing Cat to manoeuvre Simon over to the corner by the window for a swift consultation.

“What do we do?” she said, in a low voice,
when they were nicely hidden behind the horse. “He's obviously from the same place as the sword. Do you think we should call Jemmet?”

“But I thought other worlds and magic didn't exist?” said Simon, with a grin.

Cat rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay – you win,” she said. “Clearly they do. But should we call Jemmet? Things seem to be getting out of hand. And… oh my God! What did you do to Mum's washing?”

Her eyes had strayed out of the window to the garden, and she could see the trampled bits of laundry scattered over the muddy lawn like left-over patches of white snow after a thaw. She looked back at Simon.

“Mum is
absolutely
going to kill you,” she said.

He waved his arm impatiently. “I know – I know. But right now we've got a large knight from another world sitting at the kitchen table and a white horse eating the pot plants. I'd say we've got more pressing things to worry about than washing.”

Cat nodded. She contemplated Sir Bedwyr, who was now happily tucking in to the cheese sandwich, and then pulled Albert Jemmet's
business card out of her dressing-gown pocket. She picked up her mobile. “Right. I'd better call—”

But at that moment, Dappletoes lifted his head and gave a loud whinny. He clattered round, sending several bits of furniture flying, and then set off up the hallway. Sir Bedwyr leapt to his feet.

“My Quest!” he said. “It's time – my noble horse has sensed something!”

“No! I mean… I'm sure it's nothing,” said Cat anxiously. “Really – we need you to just stay here. We have a friend… ”

But the light of battle was in Sir Bedwyr's blue eyes. “My dear lady – I must thank you for your hospitality, but you have no pressing need of my services. You have a knight of your own.” He nodded at Simon. “I have been brought to this strange land for a reason – I must go and seek it, and not be distracted, even by the charming pleasures of so beautiful a lady.” He winked at Cat, who blushed again.

Sir Bedwyr turned decisively, followed his horse down the hallway, and shouldered open the front door with a crash.

“Farewell! I go to seek adventure and just
rewards,” he called back to them, and then leaped onto his horse and went clattering off down the road.

“We've got to stop him. He might hurt someone!” said Simon, running out after him.

Cat pulled off her dressing-gown and threw on her coat over her pyjamas. She followed Simon out, slamming the door shut and chucking him his jacket. “He's heading towards the town centre,” she said. “You follow him, I'll call Albert Jemmet and catch up with you. Go on, get after him – quickly!”

Chapter Eleven

Either side of the great palace gates was a short row of simple stone benches, where those petitioning for entrance, or waiting for an appointment, could sit and rest. There was generally a straggle of less important visitors sitting there – travellers looking for a convenient place to sit and eat their lunch or city folk having a gossip – but most of them stayed for only a short time before moving on. Dora had been sitting there since before breakfast, trying not to attract attention and hoping fervently that Jem was safe and on his way out of the palace. It was well after midday now, and she had nearly given up on him ever appearing.

Suddenly there was a commotion by the gate, and a short man in a silver-braid uniform
strode out and called, in a surprisingly loud voice: “Dora Puddlefoot! Dora Puddlefoot is requested to attend Lord Ravenglass, at once!”

Dora jumped up, and hurried to the entrance. As she reached the gate, the servant looked her up and down as if to make sure she fitted a description he'd been given, and then set off at a brisk pace across the palace yard. Dora followed him along endless twists and turns of stone passageways and up and down winding stairs till she felt quite lost. But eventually they arrived at a richly carved oak door that was half open.

“Lord Ravenglass will see you now,” said the servant, and gestured at the door. Dora took a deep breath, and sidled in, looking at her feet. When she raised her head, she saw, first of all, a roaring log fire, and then a small stool nearby, where Jem was sitting, happily restored to his natural size. Finally, her eyes fell on a portly man dressed in a great deal of velvet and lace, with a number of jewelled rings on his white hands. He was sitting in a large oak chair with his legs stretched out towards the fire.

Dora bowed. “Your Lordship,” she said.

The man, who had a handsome, if slightly
jowly, face and a great deal of black hair in ringlets, waved one plump hand at her in a gesture of annoyance.

“No, no – forty-five degrees to the horizontal, for exactly four minutes,” he said, petulantly. “Dancing dragons, what did they teach you at Roland Castle about manners? You are – what – a fourth- or fifth-level apprentice, and I am – let's see now – ah, yes…
the queen's nephew
. Do it
again
.”

Dora nervously bent down again in a lower bow, and stayed there for what she thought was safely four full minutes. When she straightened, Lord Ravenglass was looking altogether more friendly.

“That's better. Now come and sit down and eat something, you must be hungry.” He waved his hand at a platter of bread and cheese on a small table nearby. Dora sat down nervously. She suddenly realised that she was indeed extremely hungry, but she was too nervous to do more than nibble at a small piece of bread.

Lord Ravenglass, having made his point about etiquette, was now picking at a plate of rich sweets and pastries and seemed much
more cheerful. Jem, Dora noted with surprise, seemed to be largely responsible for his good humour. He was managing to stay just the right side of impertinent while also shamelessly buttering up Lord Ravenglass – this, Dora suddenly realised, must have been how Jem had managed to get away with doing whatever he wanted at Roland Castle. He was very good at being charming to people in charge.

She smiled and relaxed slightly as she listened to Jem's tale of the time he had been chased up all four towers of the castle by Sir Mortimer. The lord of the castle had finally cornered Jem in the pigsty, but as he'd lunged at the kitchen boy, Sir Mortimer had tripped over a large bucket of pig swill and gone flying. He'd spent the next four days trying to get pig slime out of the grooves in his armour.

“Well, young Jem,” said Lord Ravenglass indulgently, still giggling slightly at the image of Sir Mortimer covered in swill, “I'm glad to hear you're keeping things lively in the far reaches of the kingdom. But now we'd better have a look at these… objects that have been appearing. I believe your friend has them?”

Dora nodded, and dug out Jem's miniature pack. With a wave of his hand, Lord Ravenglass restored it to the proper size. She took out the red fortune-telling book and then the other objects from her own pack, and carefully placed them onto the polished surface of the table. Lord Ravenglass took out a blue monocle, and peered through it at the items for a few moments.

“There's no doubt,” he said, looking up, pleased. “All from the same world. And three at once. I think we may have found something I've been looking for rather a long time.”

He smiled, and popped another pastry in his mouth.

“Congratulations, my dears,” he said, smiling, and patting at the crumbs on his lips with his lace handkerchief. “You have made me very happy.”

Dora was taken aback. From what the Druid and Caractacus had said, the objects were a cause for worry, not celebration. Why was Lord Ravenglass so pleased? And was he actually going to do anything to help? She didn't want to say anything that might annoy him, but she felt she had to at least ask.

“I'm sorry, your Lordship,” she said, hesitantly.
“But the Druid said they had come from another world. All from the same one. Isn't that… dangerous?”

Lord Ravenglass laughed. “Oh, it's dangerous, all right. Thoroughly dangerous.” He seemed to relish the idea. “But also very useful. There's only one thing that could have caused a rift serious enough to send three objects through from the same place. This is my best chance to find it in
years
… With a bit of luck, my agents are already there.”

Dora was not reassured. She looked across at Jem, but he just seemed to be excited about the other worlds.

“So people
can
go there?” he asked, looking eager.

Lord Ravenglass eyed him speculatively.

“It's not very usual. But it can be done, when the need arises. Why – would you like to go?”

Dora felt her heart sink. She could tell from his expression that all Jem was concerned about was being sent to the world where the shiny red fortune-telling book belonged. And unfortunately, from the way Lord Ravenglass was looking at them both, it seemed likely Jem was
going to get exactly what he wanted.

“It's true that children can often go where adults may not,” he mused, stroking his chin. “And the more people looking for it, the better. You could take the objects back with you, too – might help calm the energies a little.”

He clapped his hands.

“We'll try it, why not?” he said. “We can use one of the objects to create a portal, which will take you to that world. More importantly, it will take you back to where it came from, which means you will be
very
close to what's causing the rift.”

His tone was matter-of-fact, but Dora noticed a kind of hunger in his expression as he went on. “There is a particular object… a jewel. It's almost certainly causing this situation. I need it. Well, that's to say,
the kingdom
needs it. It is extremely magical. It was lost from here many years ago, and I…
we
… need it back.”

“What does it look like?” said Jem.

“It is a deep amber stone, orange-yellow, with dark flecks. Set in a bronze clasp.”