Alys Clare: Out of the Dawn Light

Creoda had done that, and he was Hrype’s ancestor.

I opened my eyes and stared at him.

It was as if he had been waiting for me. Sibert sat immobile as stone and his eyes were still fast shut. Froya was hunched on her stool, her back bent as if under a heavy load.

I could have believed that Hrype and I were alone.

I felt his thought. It came at me like an arrow and as soon as I understood, it seemed to me that the awareness had been there all along.

‘The crown must go back,’ I whispered, my voice hardly more than a breath.

‘Yes.’

I hesitated, for I was tired and afraid. But he was relentless and I knew I must speak. ‘Must I take it?’

‘You must, and Sibert must go with you.’

‘Why?’ I asked. I sounded like a wheedling child.

‘Because it was you and Sibert who took it,’ he answered.

And all at once it made perfect sense.

Sibert and I set out while it was still dark and for the third time I embarked on a long journey far from the safety of my home.

Hrype promised to reassure my parents but I knew they would be so very worried about me. They must have hoped that I’d had enough of excitement for the time being, as indeed I had. Returning to Drakelow was the last thing I wanted to do and, glancing at Sibert as the dawn light steadily grew stronger, I thought he probably felt the same.

We were lucky this time in that we got a lift from a garrulous carter eager for somebody — anybody — to talk to, and he picked us up just south of St Edmundsbury and took us all the way to the place where our track branched off the road south-east to the coast at Dunwich. Despite the nervous tension and the underlying fear, both of us managed to sleep, although I don’t suppose even that stopped the carter’s chatter.

Rested and well-fed as we were — the carter had shared his food with us and, thanks to Hrype, who it became clear was much better at putting together travelling rations than Sibert, we were provided with a generous pack — we made good time on the last leg of our journey. We arrived at Drakelow in the late afternoon and stood side by side on the top of the low cliff staring out at the crumbling timbers of the sea sanctuary, just becoming visible above the outgoing tide.

‘I think,’ Sibert said thoughtfully, ‘it’s even more damaged than it was last time we were here.’

I agreed. ‘The sea is reclaiming it.’ I felt strange; sort of dreamy. ‘Soon it’ll all be gone and there will be nothing left to mark where it was.’

‘Then we’d better hurry up and put the crown back,’ Sibert replied. ‘It’ll be safe then.’

He was right. Although I’d have given anything not to have to do this task, I realized that we could only be free to go home once we’d steeled ourselves and completed it.

We decided to wait until twilight. It did not seem likely that there was anyone around to see us but you never knew. We settled in a hollow on the top of the cliff and ate quite a lot of Hrype’s supplies. Then Sibert had a doze and I sat watching the waves. The tide had turned and was coming in again but I reckoned we still had plenty of time to get out to the sea sanctuary and bury the crown.

When it was growing dark I packed up our belongings and roused Sibert. We clambered down the cliff and struck out across the pebbly sand.

There were puddles on the foreshore and as we splashed along they struck chilly on my skin. The air, too, felt colder than it ought to have done for a summer’s night. I looked up and saw a bank of cloud blowing up out of the dark eastern sky, slowly and inexorably blanking out the bright stars. A mist was rolling in on the silvery surface of the sea. I felt suddenly afraid and instinctively I moved closer to Sibert. He glanced at me and I saw my apprehension reflected in his face. He clutched at the crown in its bag at his waist and said gruffly, ‘Come on. The sooner we’ve done it, the sooner we can be safely back on dry land.’

Back on dry land. Yes, how much I wanted that. How alien, by comparison, was this mysteriously threatening watery world whose margins we trod.

We were holding hands. I don’t know which of us made the move, but all at once Sibert’s strong, warm hand was clutching mine and I was so glad. The mist had crept up to our feet now. It was as if some element of the sea were stealthily extending its reach to draw us in, grasping for us with thin, silver fingers. I glanced down at the strange sight of my legs appearing to end just above my ankles.

All at once the wrecked posts of the sea sanctuary rose up right in front of us.

We stopped. Then Sibert squared his shoulders and said, ‘We must put it back exactly where we found it. Can you recall the place?’

I could. Even in the growing darkness, with the mist blotting out all firm outlines, my instincts were leading me right to the spot. It was as if the crown’s power had left a trace of itself down there in the sand beneath the ancient wood. For someone like me it was as easy to read as a candle in a window on a moonless night.

‘This way.’

Confidently I stepped forward into the circle. Then, crouching down, my skirt flapping into a pool of sea water, I started to scoop out the sand. Sibert placed the crown carefully down beside one of the timbers and then began to help me and quite soon we had made a significant hollow. Sibert sat back on his heels, brushed his hair off his sweaty forehead — it was hot work digging the hard, wet sand — and said, ‘It’s not deep enough yet. I think we ought to-’

Something big and black rushed up out of the darkness and buffeted into him, knocking him over. I screamed, for in that first horrified shock I thought it was some nightmare creature out of the sea. Then I heard the sound of fists on flesh. Someone grunted. Someone cried out in pain.

Struggling, locked together, the two shadowy shapes were now out on the far side of the sanctuary and I could hear their feet splashing about in the water. I rushed after them, panicking, trying to make out which one was Sibert, and as I watched, my thoughts flying wildly from one rescue plan to the next, each of them equally futile, I saw the shorter, stockier shadow raise its arm and with a sickening crack, land a heavy punch right on the point of the tall, slim shadow’s chin.

Sibert went down.

He stayed down, for the other shadow was sitting on his head and his head was under the water.

I leapt on to the man’s back, pummelling at him with both hands, then when that failed, trying to reach round to stick my fingers in his eyes, up his nostrils or into the corners of his mouth. His broad shoulders felt like iron and he brushed me off, taking no more notice of me than a bull does of a gnat. He was gasping, groaning with effort, for Sibert must have sensed death coming for him and he was thrashing about like a landed fish.

I gathered myself and leapt on him again, punching harder, screaming, shouting. Sibert was dying right before my eyes and I had to save him.

Then two things happened. Sibert stopped struggling, then the man threw himself backwards and I was flung off him into the deepening water.

I leapt up again, hampered by my soaking-wet skirts, and flew at the inert shape that was Sibert. I tried to raise his head up out of the waves that were now running powerfully up the shore, but savagely the man kicked me away. I fell again, and this time I hit my forehead very hard on one of the timbers of the sanctuary. I shook my head, stunned, and bursts of brilliant light exploded behind my eyes.

The man pushed Sibert deep under the water and held him there. Then he splashed across the sea sanctuary until he stood over the crown, still lying on the sand where Sibert had put it.