Emily Rodda - Deltora Quest #6 - The Maze of the Beast

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.

Colly-wobble Ol-io,

Jolly-wolly Ol-io,

Colly-wobble Ol-io,

You don’t bother me!

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

As 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.