Sebastian Darke: Prince of Fools (39 page)

Now the wagon was approaching the short flight of steps up to the palace courtyard. Sebastian had assumed that they'd have to stop here and climb down from the wagon. But Cornelius had other ideas. He slapped the reins against Max's haunches and urged him to go faster still. He glanced back over his shoulder.

'Hold on tight,' he bellowed; and Sebastian and the princess both grabbed hold of the sides of the wagon.

Max went up the steps at speed. There was a terrible impact as the wagon's heavy wheels connected with solid marble, and for a moment Sebastian thought the ancient vehicle would smash itself to pieces. But then the wheels gripped, and the wagon crashed upwards, shuddering and shaking like a thing possessed.

In an instant they were back on level ground and crossing the broad expanse of courtyard to where the soldiers waited for them. Looking back, Sebastian saw the angry crowd swarming up the steps behind them. He turned just as Max slammed headlong into the wall of shields, scattering soldiers before him like ninepins. And then the world turned into a mad melee of shouting, yelling people. Soldiers were clambering up on the wagon and Sebastian was flailing at them with his sword, knocking them down again, but no sooner was one man down than another replaced him. They seemed to come from every side and he had to fight for his very life.

For a while he caught only glimpses of the action around him. He saw Princess Kerin, laying about her like a professional sword fighter and yelling aloud for her followers to keep going. He saw Cornelius, standing on the wooden seat of the wagon, grinning like a madman and scything down soldiers as a farmer cuts down wheat. Then Sebastian saw Klart, raining down blows with his mighty cudgel, but failing to hold back the unstoppable horde of people swarming over him like ants. They pinioned his arms and legs, tripped him and then descended on him, hitting and stabbing with whatever they had to hand. In a moment he disappeared from view under mounds of struggling people.

And, quite suddenly, the soldiers stopped coming at the wagon. Looking around, Sebastian saw that the force around the doors had been vanquished. Not one of them was left standing. Cornelius jumped down from his seat and began to unhitch Max. As soon as he was free, the buffalope moved away, looking for new targets to attack, but for the moment at least they were in short supply. Cornelius clambered back up onto the wagon and shouted a command to the people around him.

'The wagon!' he roared. 'We'll use it as a battering ram!'

'Makes a change from using me,' muttered Max.

The crowd ran to obey him. People pressed in around it and eager hands seized its heavy wooden frame.

'Now, all together!' shouted Cornelius. 'One, two, three . . . go!'

And the wagon was propelled headlong across the court?yard towards the palace doors, people scattering out of the way to allow it passage. The front of the wagon slammed against wood and the doors bucked inwards, but they sprang back again. The impact knocked Sebastian and Princess Kerin off their feet and they lay for a moment, looking at each other.

'Maybe we should get down off this thing,' said Sebastian.

She shook her head. 'The people need to see me,' she told him.

'Again!' yelled Cornelius. The wagon was pushed backwards, right to the very edge of the courtyard. 'One, two, three . . . go!'

This time the impact was heavier and the door buckled in on itself with a loud splintering sound.

'Again! We're nearly through!' roared Cornelius. The wagon rumbled backwards.

Sebastian reached out and squeezed Princess Kerin's hand. 'This time,' he assured her.

There was a long, deep silence as they waited.

'One, two, three . . .
go
!'

All those pushing put every ounce of strength they possessed behind the wagon and it seemed to fly forward as though shoved by the hand of an invisible giant. The impact when it slammed against wood jarred every tooth in Sebastian's head, but whatever was holding the doors in place snapped like a twig beneath the onslaught. The doors crashed open and the wagon thundered through into the foyer of the palace, slamming into the ranks of soldiers that had remained inside.

Princess Kerin jumped back to her feet and waved her sword. 'Onwards!' she screamed. 'Victory is at hand!' A great yelling tide of people spilled through the shattered doorway and swept the remaining soldiers before them, pushing them back into the depths of the palace. The princess leaped down and went with them, completely lost in the moment. Sebastian clambered down too, intending to follow her, but he felt a sharp tug against the hem of his jerkin and, looking down, he saw Cornelius. He was pointing towards the big staircase, at the foot of which lay the dead body of the witch, Magda.

'Up here,' said Cornelius. 'The king's chambers. That's where he'll be hiding.'

Sebastian flung a last anxious glance after the princess, then nodded. He followed Cornelius up the stairs, realizing as he did so that the main force was still below, chasing the last soldiers through the labyrinthine corridors of the ground floor. The two men hurried up the giant staircase and then hesitated as they got to the top.

Ranged across the landing in front of them was a row of men in distinctive uniforms. The king's bodyguard, the Crimson Cloak.

Cornelius halted a short distance from the line of bodyguards. He scanned each of their faces before he spoke.

'Men of the Crimson Cloak,' he said, 'I do not wish to fight you. I have only been a member of your organization for a few days, but I think of you as brothers-in-arms.'

A tall bearded man who seemed to be the natural leader of the group replied. 'And as a member, Captain Drummel, you, like us, are sworn to protect the life of the king. Why are you attacking his palace?'

Cornelius frowned. 'For the best of reasons. When I swore that oath, I thought I was vowing to defend an honest man – not a tyrant who would send his own niece into slavery in order to prevent her from being Queen.'

Sebastian had expected some gasps of astonishment from the men but there was no reaction at all. He began to experience a sinking sensation.

'Who tells you this?' sneered the bearded man.

'Nobody told me. I saw it for myself. My friend Sebastian and I rescued the princess from the slave markets of Brigandia only yesterday. And that is not the end of this so-called king's treachery. He arranged the murder of the former king and queen. He even laid a trap for me on my first mission, sending twenty Brigands to try and silence me. Let me assure you, the man skulking in those chambers is not worth defending.'

The bearded man smiled sarcastically. 'And supposing I were to tell you, Captain Drummel, that we knew all about the ambush – and about the king's plans for the princess. Supposing I told you that each of us was paid handsomely to pretend we saw nothing? What would you say then?'

Cornelius's eyes widened in realization. An expression of disgust came to his face. 'I would say that the Crimson Cloak is a mockery,' he snarled. 'And that I no longer have any wish to be a member.'

'What if we offered you the same arrangement?' said a second man. 'You would be rich beyond your wildest dreams.'

'But I would have no honour,' Cornelius told him. 'And my life would be as worthless as yours.'

The bearded man laughed. 'Oh, come now, Captain Drummel, you cannot hope to make a stand against
us.
We are the finest warriors in the land. We will cut you down like chaff.'

Cornelius bowed from the waist. 'Gentlemen, you are most welcome to try,' he said.

Sebastian started forward to stand beside Cornelius, but the little warrior motioned him back.

'This is serious stuff, young friend,' he said. 'No offence, but I don't want you to get in my way'

'Cornelius—'

'No. I tell you, stand back!'

Sebastian shrugged and reluctantly retreated a few steps. There was a long silence while the men appraised each other. Then the bearded man stepped forward, his sword raised. Cornelius waited, his expression calm. The man launched an attack, and once again Cornelius performed that lazy, almost imperceptible flick of the wrist. His opponent took a couple more steps forward, his eyes staring straight ahead, a bright pool of blood blossoming on his chest. Then he missed his step and went tumbling down the staircase.

The other members of the bodyguard exchanged looks of disbelief. Then, as one, they charged towards Cornelius. For an instant he was lost to sight, buried amidst a scrum of struggling bodies; but then he broke free and somersaulted upwards, away from the melee, to land gracefully on the stone balustrade alongside his opponents. His sword performed a couple of deadly thrusts and two more men fell dead on the stairs.

'And now, gentlemen,' he said, 'I think it's time you were introduced to the Golmiran death roll.'

He threw back his head and bellowed at the top of his lungs. Then he launched himself upward, spinning around until his body was a blur, somersaulting across the staircase to the far balustrade, and as he passed overhead, his sword zipped around in a deadly arc, cleaving the helmets of three more opponents and dropping them in their tracks. Sebastian had to press back to one side as the bodies went tobogganing past him down the steep slope to join their comrades.

Cornelius came out of the spin and landed on the far balustrade, laughing like a maniac.

The remaining five bodyguards were beginning to get the message. They faltered, backed away and ran past him down the stairs, abandoning their weapons as they did so. As Sebastian watched, they clambered over the bodies of their fallen comrades and went out through the gap in the smashed doorway. He heard their feet racing away across the courtyard. He turned back to his friend.

'Cornelius, you were—'

He broke off in horror as he saw the little warrior crumple and fall from the balustrade onto the staircase. Sebastian hurried to him and kneeled beside his sprawled body, turning him onto his back. He saw the bright splash of fresh blood oozing through the torn chain mail at his stomach.

'Someone . . . must have . . . caught me a lucky blow,' observed Cornelius through gritted teeth. 'Shadlog's breath!' He tried to struggle up but sank back with a groan. The death leap had completely exhausted him.

'I'll go for help,' Sebastian told him.

'No . . .' Cornelius gestured towards the door of the king's chambers. 'Don't waste time. Get . . . Septimus. It's . . . up to you now.' He gave a little shudder and his body went limp.

'Cornelius!' Sebastian put an ear against the little warrior's mouth and heard breathing, but it was slow and shallow. He didn't dare hesitate any longer. He got to his feet, his sword held ready, and strode across the landing to the door of the king's chamber. He paused for a moment, gathering his courage. Then he lifted a foot, kicked the door open and ran inside. At first glance the room looked empty. Then he heard a thud behind him and turned to see that King Septimus had been waiting behind the door. He had just slid a huge metal bolt into position, locking it. In his other hand he held a fear?some-looking curved sword.