“We brought in a seer, sir. There was a residue of energy on some of the furniture.”
“That means they left very shortly before your arrival, Captain.”
“Within an hour I would say, sir.”
“And do you have any idea where they might have been taken?”
“One of the neighbours reported a wagon pulling up to the place, My Lord, and a couple of old carpets being loaded into it.”
“Really?” Vortigen raised his brows.
“Yes, sir.”
“Let's see what is on the roads, then,” Vortigen grinned.
Standing at the foot of his throne, he waved his hand over the Seer's Pool. Immediately, like a computer screen switched on, the water was illuminated from within. It glowed blue, then an image began to resolve itself in the liquid molecules. Something like the picture of a city taken from outer space appeared.
“That's Syde, sir,” Quiggle informed Josh.
Amazed, Josh watched as the map became clearer. He could see specks moving about under the transparent surface. These he recognized as carts and riders moving along thin ribbons of road.
“They are no doubt taking advantage of the heavy traffic leaving The Habitations,” Vortigen said.
“Yes sir,” the newly minted captain agreed. “Many people are still heading toward Tilth and the Gallian Forest. Some stayed to celebrate, others to visit friends and others to pick up a few supplies so there is still heavy traffic on the roads.”
“Where do you think our visitors would be heading, Captain?”
The man gave Vortigen a worried look, as if his commander might strip him of his new rank for not having an answer. “I don't know,” he said.
“My guess is they are returning to the portal they came in by. Any signal from Outworld will be strongest there and the rebels will know that. They will risk detection to get the children closer.”
“Yes,” the captain agreed.
“Then they will be heading in this direction.” Vortigen concluded, pointing at an area of the image, which suddenly enlarged. “That is the direction they would have come in from if I am not mistaken. I want you to go there, Captain. Take a full squadron. Find that wagon, and what's rolled up in those carpets, and you might be a major by dinner.”
“Yes sir!” the captain barked.
“Fail me, and you might find yourself in a cell, awaiting court martial. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir!”
“Be gone then.”
With that the soldier bustled out of the room.
Josh moved as if he were going to stand up and challenge Vortigen then and there, but Quiggle grabbed him. “That would be most unwise!” the valet whispered.
“But what am I going to do?”
“I don't believe getting thrown into a dungeon would help your friends.”
Josh could almost hear Puddifant's caustic agreement. “Love, my boy. Base your actions on love, not the rash dictates of hatred. You want to save Millie and Ian, not destroy Vortigen.”
I
an couldn't decide what described his situation best. On the one hand, being stuffed into a musty old carpet made him feel like a sausage roll. But then again, it was sort of like being an earthworm. Mostly it was hot, itchy, and gritty. “Oh shut up,” Millie giggled, when he described his dilemma through the muffling layers of canvas and wool.
“Both of you will keep your gobs shut if you know what's good for you â and for me,” their driver complained, touching off another round of laughter from the two carpets under the jumble of furniture in his wagon. To disguise their noise he snapped the reins and clucked at his horses. “Get along now Mercury,” he urged. “Come on Neptune.” His encouragements resulted in an almost imperceptible burst of speed which lasted perhaps something amounting to a fraction of a second.
“Gads,” the driver grumped. “You're nothing but glue with snouts and legs, you two.”
This condemnation, which the nags had obviously heard before, provoked another round of laughter from the carpets, which in turn caused the drayman to groan grievously and snap the reins even more vigorously.
They were headed toward the Gallian Forest through Tilth. The highway had been busy, but the traffic had petered out the farther they got from The Habitations, until now they had the road almost to themselves. The afternoon had been a whirlwind of clandestine activities: first they had encountered Josh in his royal finery, then fled to the rebel safe house, then been interrogated by Charlie Underwood, and now they were on the road back to the place where they had entered Syde, bundled up in a couple of old carpets. Charlie Underwood had been very interested in Josh Dempster. “If he does ascend to the double throne, Vortigen will have free rein over the world,” Charlie explained. “We have to prevent that at all costs.”
“All costs?” Millie gulped.
“Don't worry,” Charlie said gravely. “Our object is to send your friend back to your own dimension. Injuring him in any way would only further Vortigen's ends.”
“Then what do you intend to do,” she asked.
“First of all, send you home.”
“Wait a minute,” Ian cut in. “I'm not going anywhere without Josh.”
“Josh is not going anywhere unless you leave this place,” Charlie corrected.
“Huh?”
“He needs voices in Outworld â people to call him home. You two must rally those who love him and add your own voices to the chorus. It is his only chance. As long as you stay here, he has no chance of escaping.”
It didn't make much sense, but Millie and Ian had to believe him. So they agreed to being rolled up in a couple of mangy old carpets and shipped to the Gallian Forest in the back of a rattling wagon. “Your prospects are not great,” Charlie had warned them. “But we have no choice. We must get you out of here now, and we have no better means of conveyance.”
Ian thought it amazing they had got as far as they had without being stopped. “If I were running an evil empire, I would do better,” he boasted. “I would have guards at every road leading out of town, and along the highway, too.”
“Don't you worry, lad, Vortigen can hold his own with the worst of them when it comes to tyranny, although you Outworld types do give him some pretty stiff competition,” the driver opined. “Oh-oh, what's this?” he said, suddenly alarmed.
“What's wrong?” Ian wanted to know.
“Now pipe down the two of you, and this time I mean it,” the driver ordered. “There's a squad of soldiers coming up from behind like the devil himself is on their tail.” He thought for a moment then said, “That means they've got something particular in mind, I'm thinkin'.”
“What?” Ian asked.
“Ian, shut up!” Millie snapped, not a hint of laughter in her voice now. “You're going to get us caught, you idiot.”
“I suggest you listen to her,” the driver seconded. “But what I mean is this: They must know you've been taken out of town, or they wouldn't be hurtling along the highway like that; which means they must know you are in a cart, because someone must have told them; which means it's time for me to start up my beauties in earnest.
“Heyah!” he shouted. “Get along. Heyay!”
There was a slap of leather on the horses flanks, a clatter of hooves on dirt, then the wagon lurched forward.
“Oh my God!” Millie cried, “We're never gong to get home now!”
Struggling and kicking, Ian burst out of his rough cocoon.
“Come on Millie. Get out of there!” he shouted, tearing open her wrapping.
They could hear the tattoo of the troops behind them now. Ian looked over the tailgate and cursed. The soldiers were about a hundred yards back, closing steadily.
“Do you have anything we can use as weapons?” he shouted.
“Well,” the old man grumbled, “There are some cushions on those chairs. Throw them at the blighters. That might make Vortigen's elite troops fall down laughing.”
“Very funny,” Ian yelled.
“There is one hope,” the man shouted. “It's desperate, but . . . ”
“What?” Millie demanded.
“Well, it's you they're after, not me.”
“Yes? So?” Ian prodded.
“So you two climb up onto my lovelies and I'll cut you free. Without a wagon load of furniture to pull, these two might stand a chance against Vortigen's cavalry.”
“What about you?”
“I'll nip into the ditch. They won't waste a second chasing after an old man when they've got their eyes on the prize hare.”
“Sounds crazy to me,” Millie huffed.
“Well, when you think of something better, let me know.”
“He's right,” Ian said. “A slim chance is better than none at all. They've closed about half the distance between us already. There's no time to lose.”
With that he climbed up over the bench into the box beside the driver. Then Ian stepped gingerly down onto the pole that ran between Mercury and Neptune. Grabbing onto the harness he turned around, facing the wagon. “Come on Millie!” he shouted. “It's our only hope.”
“Up you go, lass,” the drayman coaxed.
Tripping, Millie toppled into the box at the driver's feet. She clawed her way up again, steadying herself against the seat, then stretched out her foot and climbed onto the pole with Ian. They made their way forward, Millie mounting Mercury, Ian clambering onto Neptune.
“Are you ready?” the driver shouted.
“Yes!” Ian glanced over his shoulder.
From somewhere the drayman had produced what appeared to be a scythe. With a swift stroke, he severed one of the traces, then the other. Millie shot forward on Mercury.
“Now your turn lad.”
Swoosh, swoosh. Neptune broke free.
“Away, my beauties. Fly!” the driver commanded, and after a moment's pause, the horse obeyed, bursting free of the wagon.
“Thank you,” Josh yelled.
“Ride hard, my boy. Ride like the wind!” the man cheered.
The last they saw of him, he dived into the ditch to avoid the vengeance of Vortigen's pursuing soldiers.
Neptune soon caught up to Mercury, who lagged a little waiting for her companion. United again, the two bucked and â their minds made up â rocketed down the road.
They galloped for what seemed miles. For a time Mercury and Neptune maintained their lead, but they were still burdened with collars and harness, and they had been tired out pulling the cart at breakneck speed. Inch by inch, they lost ground, the hooves of Vortigen's minions thundering louder and louder.
“We've got to do something!” Ian shouted.
“What?” Millie yelled back. “What can we do?”
Then he saw it, one more slim chance to elude Vortigen's soldiers.
“Can you swim?” he asked Millie.
“Yes,” she answered, then smiled, reading his plan.
Off to their left, not far from the road, a river flowed through the farmland â a broad, deep river by the look of it. With all their armour and gear, the Minion's would not be able to ford it. They would have to find a way across and that might give
Ian and Millie enough time to get away â if only they could make the river.
“There!” Ian shouted.
A narrow track branched off to their left.
“Heyah! Heyah!” Ian spurred Neptune on. Eager to please, the horse picked up its flagging pace. Mercury followed. “Heyah!”
They thundered down the lane, the minions just yards behind. Then with a terrific splash, Mercury and Neptune charged into the current. The shock of entering the river threw Ian from his mount. He came up sputtering and flailing.
He had neglected to tell Millie one very important fact before they plunged into the water. He couldn't swim a stroke himself. And now, as the current swept him out from shore, Ian Lytle let himself go. He wanted to be carried away peacefully, not kicking and squirming against his fate like a hooked fish.
I
have to get them out,” Josh said, hurrying down the passageway that led to his room, Quiggle trotting along after him. “I just have to!”
” Of course you do, Your Eminence, but I don't see how you're going to be much help to them while you're here and they're there; nor do I see any way for you to get to the Gallian Forest in time to assist your friends â it's on the other side of Syde, Master Dempster.”
Josh barged into his room and began pacing like a caged animal. “There is one way, Quigs,” he said after a while. “It's risky, but I can't see any other option.”
“I don't think I like the sounds of this,” the valet said nervously. “Not one bit.”
“Athelrod has started teaching me astral voyaging . . . ”
“Astral voyaging!” Quiggle cried. “Only the upper echelons of the elite class are entrusted with the secrets of astral voyaging, and it takes them years to master the techniques. For someone without proper training to dabble in that sacred art would be very foolhardy indeed. Why, you could end up materializing inside a solid object like a tree or a brick wall, or you might fly apart like an exploding bomb. I don't recommend the strategy, My Lord.”
“After what happened this afternoon I'd rather be entombed in a tree or blown to bits than allow Ian and Millie to be captured,” Josh replied. “They came here to rescue me!”
“But . . . ”
“No buts Quiggle! I'm going to help them.”
Quiggle stifled his objections, seeing Josh was determined to go ahead with his plan. But it was clear the valet did not like the idea. While Josh did a mental checklist of the things he would need to do â and do perfectly â in order to project himself from the Emerald Palace to the Gallian Forest, Quiggle took his turn to pace thoughtfully. After a minute or so, he stopped in his tracks and bobbed his head, as if he'd made some kind of decision. “I'm going with you,” he announced.
“What?” Josh laughed.
“I'm going with you,” the valet repeated in earnest.