Its shaggy companions grinned, snuffled and snapped their jaws. A chill ran down Lief’s spine.
The first Granous moved closer, rubbing its hands together. Tufts of grey fur covered the backs of the hands. The fingers were thin as wires, tipped by nails that were long, yellow and rimmed with grime
Lief stared in fascinated horror. His own fingers tingled at the thought of those hands grasping his, the sharp teeth moving closer…
‘Rules are simple, king,’ said the Granous, grinning horribly. ‘We ask question, you answer. If answer is wrong, you pay the price. One finger from you, and one from each of your friends. Yes?’
Jinks began to wail piteously.
Fighting for calm, Lief concentrated on the birds chattering in the trees that surrounded the clearing. No doubt they were Os-Mine vine weaver birds, of which he had learned as a child. Their famous net-like nests strung many of the treetops.
He breathed deeply, feeling Barda’s eyes upon him. He knew that Barda was hoping against hope that the gems of the Belt of Deltora would help them now. The topaz that sharpened the mind. The amethyst that calmed. The diamond that gave strength…
He swallowed. ‘What if I will not play?’ he asked.
The Granous shrugged. ‘If you do not answer in the time it takes to count twenty, you lose. And you each give a finger. Then we ask another question. And so on. You see?’
Lief saw only too well.
‘And if I answer correctly?’ he asked.
‘Then no finger is taken,’ said the Granous, ‘And we ask another question. At the end of twenty questions, you are all free to leave us.’ Its face split into another hideous grin. ‘If you can,’ it added. ‘For when the fingers are finished, we begin on the toes.’
Jinks’ wails grew louder.
11 - A Friend in Need
The head Granous placed a small wooden board on Lief’s lap. The board was very old, and beautifully crafted. Many squares of wood, each one bearing a painted letter, had been arranged upon it in rows.
‘Where did you get this?’ Lief exclaimed.
‘We have had many visitors before you, king!’ the Granous giggled. ‘Now! Your first question is—what are the only useful things about you? The answer is hidden on the board. It may run up, down, sideways, or all three. Go!’
At once, the other Granous began to clap and chant. ‘Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen…’
Lief stared at the board. The letters seemed to swim before his eyes. He blinked, trying to clear his head, searching desperately for a starting point.
Words seemed to jump out at him. GET. TI?. BENT. BASE. PAN. But they led nowhere.
Up, down, sideways, or all three…
‘… Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve…’ The counting was growing louder.
Lief glanced desperately at Barda. Barda, squinting at the board, trying to make the letters out at a distance, shook his head. Beyond him, Jinks, his face fixed in concentration and shiny with sweat, was staring straight ahead. But then Lief saw that one of the acrobat’s hands, narrowed to a claw, was moving—twisting rapidly.
Jinks was trying one of his old tricks. And this time it was not for the entertainment of others, or for a bet, but to save his life. He was trying to slip out of his bonds while the Granous were not watching him. Lief looked quickly back at the board, his heart thumping.
The Granous leader pretended to smother a yawn, tapping its gaping mouth with its hand. The wicked teeth were razor sharp. Sharp enough to shear through flesh and snap through bone.
The only good things about you…
An idea flashed into Lief’s mind. Feverishly he searched the board.
‘Six. Five. Four…’
And suddenly, there was the answer, coiled within the mass of letters, crooked as a snake.
Ten fingers and ten toes!’ Lief shouted.
The chanting stopped, dissolving into a chorus of disappointed groans.
Lief risked another glance at Jinks. The little man had managed to free his hand, and was cautiously feeling for the dagger at his belt.
‘No doubt you think you are very clever, king,’ said the first Granous sulkily. ‘We will see. Here is your second question. Listen carefully.’
It folded its hands over its belly, and recited:
A king dined with his sister,
His friend and his friend’s wife.
All of them were greedy beasts
Who loved food more than life.
At last three pies alone remained.
There wasn’t any knife.
How did they all have equal shares,
And save themselves from strife?
The chorus of counting began again. Lief tried to forget about Jinks and concentrate on the rhyme.
Three pies. No knife. Equal shares for four people. It sounded impossible! But he knew that such apparently impossible puzzles always contained a simple trick.
The chanting of the Granous pounded on.
‘… TWELVE. ELEVEN. TEN…’
‘Lief!’ Barda whispered urgently. ‘Perhaps one of the four was killed by the others. The verse says they loved food more than life.’
Lief shook his head. ‘It says they all had equal shares,’ he whispered back. ‘All of them. The king, his sister, his friend and…
A thought stirred in the back of his mind.
‘… FIVE! FOUR!…’
Barda cursed under his breath.
‘THREE! TWO!…’
‘The king’s sister was married to his friend!’ Lief cried. ‘That is how the pies were equally divided. There were only three people at dinner all the time!’
This time the counting broke off in howls of frustration. The head Granous scowled as the others began shouting at him, criticising his choice of questions.
Lief slumped back, pretending relief, and slid his half closed eyes in the direction of Jinks’ tree.
The acrobat had gone! The vines with which, he had been bound were lying loose on the ground. He must be even now creeping through the bushes behind Lief and Barda, dagger at the ready to cut their bonds.
Hurry, Jinks! thought Lief. The Granous were still arguing, paying no attention to the prisoners. Jinks would never have a better chance than this.
Barda drew a sharp, hissing breath. His eyes were fixed on a rocky hill that could just be seen over the trees on the other side of the clearing. Lief followed his gaze.
A small figure was scrambling up the hill. Jinks!
Far from remaining to save his companions, Jinks was running away as fast as he could.
One of the Granous suddenly screeched and pointed. ‘Prisoner escaped!’ it howled. Instantly the whole group plunged off into the bushes, following the acrobat’s scent.
‘I hope they catch him, the vile little worm!’ muttered Barda, struggling violently against the vines that bound him. ‘How could he leave us here?’
A vine weaver bird flew down from the tree above Barda and perched on the log to which his right hand was tied. It put its head on one side, and regarded him with a sharp black eye.
It nodded as if satisfied. Then it hopped onto his wrist and began pecking at the knotted vine.
‘Lief!’ Barda whispered in astonishment. ‘Look!’
The knots were loosening! The bird’s long, expert beak was doing what all Barda’s strength could not.
In moments, his right hand was free. The bird began working on the knots that bound him to the tree while he sliced through his other bonds with his sword.
He scrambled stiffly to his feet, and staggered over to cut Lief loose. Then, with the vine weaver swooping ahead of them, they both stumbled out of the clearing and into the undergrowth.
The bird darted on, plainly expecting them to follow. Even when the ground began to climb steeply it did not slow, whistling impatiently whenever they paused for breath.