Emily Rodda - Dragon's Nest

‘They are our official escort,’ said Barda, turning in his saddle to wave at a pair of skinny, red-headed children who were running after them, trying to keep up with the horses. ‘We cannot send them home without raising suspicion in Del that our reason for this journey is not what we claimed. Rumours will start. People will panic. And that is just what we do not want.’

He glanced at Lief’s dismal face. ‘Do not despair,’ he said. ‘By my calculation we are about to enter the territory of the ruby. Keep your eyes on the Belt. We must not risk passing the ruby dragon by.’

Lief nodded and straightened his back, ashamed of his grey mood. He glanced down at the Belt. The topaz still glowed, but the ruby was dull pink instead of the shining red it should be.

Danger. Danger here or approaching .

He looked warily from side to side, and then behind him, but could see nothing. The road was deserted. Even the red-haired twins had disappeared. He guessed they had grown tired of the chase, and run back to the village.

‘Another road crosses this one not far ahead,’ exclaimed Jasmine, standing up on her stirrups and shading her eyes. ‘But there is a signpost.’

They reached the signpost not long afterwards. It was battered and faded, and bent forward a little as though exhausted by its long years of service.

‘Ah, good, Ringle!’ Barda said with satisfaction. ‘It is on our way. I thought it would be marked. It is quite a large town, or used to be.’

‘Another town! At this rate, we will never reach Dragon’s Nest,’ Jasmine muttered as they turned their horses’ heads to the right and plodded on. ‘Of course, all these stops would not matter so much if only we could move faster when we were actually on the road.’

Lief glanced back at Rolf, who was already slumped forward. ‘Rolf slows us sadly, I know, but we cannot leave him to be cared for by the farmers here,’ he said in a low voice. ‘They do not have enough to feed themselves! And he is still far too weak to be left alone.’

‘He could be strong if he wished!’ snapped Jasmine, taking no trouble to keep her voice down. ‘He eats and sleeps well enough, and his wound is healing. He puts all his energy into pitying himself.’

‘He has lost his nerve,’ Barda said. ‘I have seen it happen to soldiers who have suffered sorely in battle. The sight of the dragon was too much for him.’

‘Everything is too much for him!’ Jasmine retorted. ‘I doubt he had any nerve to lose.’

‘Do not argue,’ Lief begged, feeling that his own nerves could take no more. ‘At present we have no choice but to go on as we are. We may as well make the best of it, and hope that something happens to change things soon.’

Not long after that something did happen. But not at all the sort of thing he expected.

11 - Signs of Trouble

The road quickly narrowed to a rough, winding path. After more than an hour there was still no sign of Ringle or its outlying farms.

The ground on the left of the path began to fall away steeply. At last, the travellers found themselves being forced to ride in single file, with a steep, rocky hill on one side, and a jagged chasm on the other.

Lief reined in Honey and called a halt. ‘I think someone must have tampered with that signpost at the crossroads,’ he called, looking down at the fearsome drop on his left. ‘This is surely not the way to Ringle.’

‘I agree,’ Barda rumbled from behind him. ‘I fear we have been led to End Wood Gap. The post was leaning badly. No doubt it was loosened when it was turned around.’

‘But who would do such a thing?’ exclaimed Jasmine in irritation.

Barda shrugged. ‘Some lout with a tiny brain, who thought it amusing to mislead travellers.’

But Lief was not sure it was as simple as that. The ruby and the emerald in the Belt of Deltora were still as dull as river stones. His skin prickled with the awareness of danger, with the feeling that someone or something was wishing him ill.

On an impulse, he lowered his hand and pressed his fingers against the ruby. He shut his eyes, and with all his strength thought of the ruby dragon.

‘Wherever you are sleeping, dragon, awake!’ he whispered. ‘I summon you! The Belt of Deltora summons you!’

He opened his eyes. Nothing had changed. Nothing moved on the rocky hill, or in the chasm. The sky was blank and empty.

‘We will go back,’ he muttered. Impatiently he tried to turn Honey around, but the horse reared and snorted in terror as the earth at the edge of the narrow path crumbled under her hoofs.

Jasmine, Barda, Rolf and the guards shouted with one voice. Dirt and stones showered to the depths below.

Lief held on grimly, turning Honey’s head to face the front once more, urging her on till she found sure footing and at last stood trembling but safe on firm ground.

Sick with relief he patted her, speaking to her softly, cursing his own foolishness.

‘It is not safe to turn the horses here,’ said Barda unnecessarily. Lief turned in the saddle to glance at him. The big man’s face was beaded with sweat.

At a word from Jasmine, Kree took flight. He soared upward, made a great circle above their heads, and moments later was back, squawking harshly.

‘Kree says that ahead there is a bridge over the Gap,’ Jasmine said, ignoring the fascinated stares of the guards.

The straggling group moved on again. Sure enough, just around the next bend, where the gap narrowed a little, a rickety wooden bridge straddled the sickening drop. A roughly painted sign stood beside it.

The companions looked at the sign in silence, then glanced at one another. Barda raised his eyebrows. Lief and Jasmine nodded.

‘So that is how it is,’ said Barda grimly.

Lief bit his lip. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I have feared it for some time. This is the proof.’

By now the guards at the head of the troop had seen the sign, and the dreaded words ‘Forests of Silence’ were passing in whispers down the line. Rolf had shrunk down in his saddle, his eyes wide and fearful.

‘We will have to lead the horses across, sir,’ Brid called to Barda. ‘They will need coaxing. Will I tell the men to dismount?’

‘No,’ Barda growled, without turning around. ‘I do not think we will be crossing this bridge. I think we will be going on.’

Brid sat rigidly, eyes straight ahead. He was plainly dismayed, but was too well-trained to complain about his chief’s order.

Rolf, however, gave a high, strangled cry. ‘We cannot go on!’ he squealed. ‘You cannot lead us into the Forests of Silence to die!’

Barda swung down from his horse. He strode to the sign and ran his fingers over it thoughtfully.

As his men watched intently he pulled his large hunting knife from his belt. Then, gently but firmly, he began to scrape the face of the sign.

Curls of gleaming white paint fell to the ground as he worked. And when he stood aside, the guards gasped.

‘So,’ Barda said, rubbing his knife on his leggings to remove the shreds of paint still clinging to the blade. ‘It is as we thought. Not content with leading us astray, someone painted over the bridge sign to try to put an end to us. It is fortunate that this was done so recently, and so clumsily, that we saw through the trick at once. Otherwise …’