Deltora Quest #6: The Maze of the Beast (5 page)

A
shabby caravan pulled by a fat old horse was trundling towards the village along the Broad River path. At first, Lief thought there were two figures sitting on the driver’s seat. But as the caravan drew closer he saw that he had been mistaken. There was only one — a huge golden-haired man with dark brown skin, singing his rather surprising song at the top of his voice.

Impulsively Lief moved forward. “Wait,” Barda muttered. “Looks and words can be deceiving.”

Lief nodded, and stayed where he was. But when he heard the man’s song falter as the caravan drew up to the ruined town sign, and saw the sorrow on the broad face, he was not willing to wait any longer.

The man’s mouth turned down as he saw the three emerge from the shadows. “Ah,” he said. “This is a bad
business.” He climbed down from the caravan and looked around him, taking in the desolation. “But I am not surprised. Every year for many years we have come here on our rounds, and each time I have feared finding this very thing.”

He shook his head. “I warned them. I said to them, ‘Give it up, my friends. Move on! Life is precious!’ But they were so brave. So foolish …”

He rubbed a huge hand over his eyes.

“You speak of your rounds,” said Barda, who was still wary. “What rounds?”

The man looked up. “Why, I am a peddler, sir,” he said politely. “I sell, I buy, and I trade. Steven B is my name.” He gestured at the faded lettering on his cart.

To Lief’s surprise, there was a movement behind him and Dain stepped forward.

“Hello, Steven,” the boy said. “Do you not know me?”

The man’s face relaxed into a grin. “Young Dain!” he said. “I saw you there, but I was not sure you wished to be recognized in this company.”

“These are friends,” said Dain. “They are helping me on my way to Tora, Steven. I am going there at last.”

The grin faded. “These are bad tidings,” Steven said. “Why do you not stay where you are safe? This part of the country is not kind to travellers.”

“Yet you travel every day,” Lief pointed out.

Steven shrugged his massive shoulders. “I?” he said, as if that was another matter altogether. “Ah, yes. But I have protection.”

Lief stared. The man was unarmed, and seemed quite alone except for the old horse. He was big, certainly, but his pleasant, open face did not seem the face of a fighter. Quite the opposite.

“Steven’s brother, Nevets, always travels with him,” said Dain quickly, and, Lief thought, warningly.

Steven put his head on one side. “Would you like to meet Nevets?” he enquired.

“Oh, no. We would not dream of disturbing him,” Dain exclaimed, before Lief and Barda could say anything. “But, before you go, my friends and I would like to buy some goods for our journey, Steven.”

The man beamed. “A pleasure to serve you,” he said. He strode to the back of the caravan and threw
open the doors. The space was fitted out as a tiny shop, crammed with clothes and household needs.

The brother is not hiding in here, in any case, thought Lief. And what are we to buy? For, plainly, we are expected to buy something.

He watched as Dain bought a small cooking pot he did not need. Then Steven turned to him. “And what is your fancy, sir?” Steven asked.

Lief held out a coin and gestured to a basket containing many small packets of what looked like toffee. Steven raised his eyebrows, but took the coin and tossed him two packets.

Then it was Barda’s turn, and to Lief’s surprise Barda pointed to a wide cloth belt embroidered with a pattern of dull gold and brown leaves. “If that is within my means, I will take it,” Barda said.

“A fine choice,” said Steven, removing the belt from its hook. “And to you, a friend of Dain’s, only three silver coins.” He measured Barda’s waist with his eyes. “You could find it a little snug, however,” he added.

“It is not for me,” said Barda, counting out the money. “It is a gift.”

Steven nodded and passed over the belt. “Ah, well,” he said. “Our journey has not been quite without profit, and that is one good thing. But this place makes me sad, and that will never do. We will stay no longer.”

As he turned away to close the doors, he began mumbling to himself. A strange character, Lief thought. And a little mad, for this brother he speaks of seems to
exist only in his imagination. Perhaps Nevets died, and this turned Steven’s wits.

Steven finished bolting the doors, and walked to the front of the caravan. As he put his foot on the step to climb up to the driver’s seat, he turned back to Dain. “Give up this idea of Tora, for now, Dain, and come with us,” he said, stretching out a friendly hand. “There is room on the seat for you. Soon we will be meeting with some of your friends, to make a delivery. You could return to the stronghold with them.”

Dain shook his head. “I thank you most sincerely for the offer, Steven,” he said. “But I cannot accept.”

Steven looked regretful, then shrugged and finished his climb. When he was safely on the driver’s seat again, he bent and fumbled underneath it. There was a clinking sound, and at last he brought out a small jar. This he passed to Dain. “With my compliments,” he said. “May it help you on your journey.”

As Dain stammered his thanks, Lief looked curiously at the jar. With a small shock, he saw the familiar “Quality Brand Honey” label.

Steven saw him looking, and put a finger to the side of his nose. “Not a word,” he said. He clicked to the horse. The caravan lurched forward, and slowly turned until it was facing the way it had come.

Barda, Lief, and Dain raised their hands in farewell. Steven grinned and waved. Then he shook the jingling reins and the caravan creaked away.

“He sells Queen Bee honey?” Lief muttered. “But I thought it was in short supply.”

“He sells only to the Resistance,” said Dain, looking down at the jar. “And then he charges only a fraction of the honey’s worth. Do you not understand? He is no ordinary peddler. He is the son of Queen Bee herself.”

Lief drew a quick breath.

“But what was this talk of a brother?” Barda demanded. “He was alone!”

A cloud seemed to pass over Dain’s face. “Steven is never alone,” he said. “Nevets is always with him. But Nevets is not a man you would like to meet. I have seen him only once, and I never want to do so again.”

As they stared, he turned to look after the caravan. “Nevets only appears when Steven, or someone close to him is threatened. Most of the time he stays within.”

Barda shook his head impatiently. “There was no one within!” he snorted. “The caravan contained only goods for sale.”

“Not within the caravan,” murmured Dain. “Within Steven himself.”

Lief felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. He peered along the path. The caravan was almost hidden by a fine cloud of dust. But the jingling of the bells on the horse’s reins floated back to him. And over the bells came the sound of singing.

But this time, Lief could have sworn that instead of one voice, there were two.

A
s soon as the caravan was out of sight, the companions turned their backs on the sad remains of Where Waters Meet and picked their way down to the bank of the River Tor. There they came upon a small wooden jetty that pushed out a little way over the water. On a pole was fixed a metal sign.

“A passenger boat must work on this part of the Tor. It must come down Broad River, carrying travellers
and goods to Tora,” exclaimed Lief. “That is why the bridge is built so high. Dain, have you heard of this?”

Dain shook his head, eyeing the sign suspiciously.

“It would be very nice to ride instead of walking, for a change — and faster, too,” Lief said. “Should we wait?”

Barda shook his head regretfully. “I think not. For all we know the boat comes by only once a week — or perhaps no longer runs at all. This sign is not new. And in any case, we have decided to keep away from public view.”

Reluctantly Lief agreed, and they trudged on.

After the joining of the rivers, the Tor broadened, deepened, and grew less winding. It looked cleaner, too, and the smell of decay was less. But Lief knew that beneath the smooth surface dark shapes, and pale ones, too, were slowly drifting. They had not disappeared, only sunk out of sight.

As the river broadened, the country on their side also changed. Gradually the trees and bushes disappeared, the reeds thickened. By the time the companions stopped for the night, the earth beneath their feet had grown marshy.

After they had eaten, Dain settled at once to sleep. The bright moon rose. Lief remembered the packets he had bought from Steven, and pulled one out, intending to share the toffee with Barda. But as soon as he had unwrapped the hard, shiny brown stuff inside he realized
that, whatever it was, it was not toffee. It smelled vile, and tasted worse.

Embarrassed to have made such a stupid mistake, Lief wrapped it up again and pushed it deep into his pocket. He glanced at Barda to see if he had noticed, but Barda was busy examining his own purchase, the embroidered belt. As Lief watched curiously, wondering who the gift was for, Barda looked up and beckoned. Carefully, so as not to wake Dain, Lief crept over to him.

“I bought this belt for a reason, Lief,” Barda murmured. “The cloth is double, thick, and strong. I believe we should use it — as a covering for the Belt of Deltora.”

Lief opened his mouth to protest. If the Belt was enclosed by cloth, he would not be able to touch and see the gems. He would lose the value of the topaz, that sharpened the mind; the ruby, that paled at danger — and the opal, that gave glimpses of the future.

He feared the power of the opal, but for days he had been trying to screw up his courage to touch it. His father’s map showed that the Maze of the Beast was on Deltora’s west coast, but its actual location was unclear. The opal might provide a clue.

“The river is thick with enemies. And Dain is with us, at least as far as Tora,” Barda continued. “It will only be a matter of time before he, at least, sees the Belt, however careful you are.”

Lief choked back his protest. Barda was right. He felt truly sorry for Dain, but the fact remained that neither he nor Barda could yet make up their minds to trust him completely. He nodded, and Barda at once set about splitting the seam of the embroidered belt.

Lief gritted his teeth. Time was short. He could delay no longer. He slipped his hands under his shirt and ran his fingers over the gems until he came to the opal.

Eerie, bluish light. Great dripping spears of stone hanging from the roof. Gleaming, ridged walls, running with milky liquid. And something huge, white, with thrashing tail, bloodred jaws gaping …

Gasping, Lief tore his hands free. He screwed his eyes tightly shut, trying to dismiss the horrible picture from his mind.

“Lief?”

Barda was holding out his hand impatiently. With trembling fingers Lief pulled off the Belt. Barda slipped it inside the embroidered band and began sewing up the split. When he had finished, there was nothing to show that any work had been done at all.

Lief buckled the cloth band around his waist, under his shirt. It felt rough and strange against his skin. Father kept the Belt safe inside a leather working belt for sixteen years, he thought. This is a sensible plan.

But still he felt uneasy. He returned to the campfire and lay down to sleep, wishing heartily, and not for the first time, that Dain had never crossed their path.

The next morning the companions struggled on, but by midday they were staggering instead of walking, plunging knee-deep into foul-smelling mud with every step.

“This is impossible,” panted Barda after another hour in which very little ground had been covered. “We will have to move away from the river — get to drier land.”

But by now the reed beds extended as far as the eye could see. Heavy fog blotted out the horizon. They seemed surrounded by a wet, stinking desert of mud.

It was then that they heard a faint chugging, and the sound of music. They all turned to look upstream. Coming towards them, steam puffing from its funnel, its great paddle wheel churning the water behind it, was a red-painted boat.

Lief, Barda, and Dain did not hesitate. All of them began to shout, waving their arms.

The boat came nearer. Soon it was so close that they could see the name
River Queen
painted in bright white letters on its bow. And over the music they could hear the shouts of a bearded man in a captain’s cap who leaned over the side, peering at them.

“Want a ride, mates?” he roared, as the boat slowed.

“Yes!” shouted Lief, Barda, and Dain.

“Do you have money?”

“Yes!”

The man grinned. “Never let it be said that the
River Queen
turned away a paying passenger. Let alone three. Ho, Chett!”

With that, a small rowing boat splashed into the water. A strange, hunched creature with long arms and a grinning, hairy face leaped into the boat and began rowing furiously to shore.

“What is that?” whispered Lief.

“A polypan,” said Dain, wrinkling his nose and taking a step back. “And if this captain uses polypans as crew, he is up to no good.”

“I believe I saw something like it in the markets at Rithmere,” said Barda. “It was moving around the crowd with a cup, collecting money for a woman who was playing the violin.”

Dain nodded. “And secretly collecting far more than that, no doubt,” he muttered, as the little boat approached. “Polypans are expert thieves. It is said that they can take the shirt off your back without your knowledge.”

The rowing boat ran aground on the mud and the polypan beckoned, grinning widely. Lief saw that it was chewing some sort of dark-colored gum. Its teeth were stained brown and as the companions waded through the reeds towards it, it spat a gob of brown liquid into the river.

Lief and Dain climbed into the boat. Barda pushed it off the mud and then climbed in after them.

The polypan spat again, and then began rowing back to the
River Queen
. Though it was now carrying three extra people, the little boat ploughed through the water at great speed. The polypan’s long, hairy arms
were very powerful, and it seemed to have boundless energy.

When they reached the side of the larger boat, they found that a rope ladder had been lowered over the side. They began to climb upward, one after the other, very aware of the polypan’s little black eyes fixed on them. No doubt, thought Lief uncomfortably, it was noting every pocket in their jackets, every fastening on their packs.

He felt glad that the Belt of Deltora was safely hidden. His only regret was that now it could not tell him if the feeling of danger that flooded over him the moment he set foot on the boat’s deck was real, or imagined.