Dirk’s face darkened and Rye felt a stab of panic.
‘No!’ he exclaimed. ‘We must stay together.’ He pulled the hood of concealment over his head. ‘There! Now if we link arms we will not be seen.’
‘The skimmer hook is metal,’ Sonia warned. ‘It will still be visible.’
‘Just as a shadow,’ Rye said quickly, as Dirk scowled. ‘The darkness should cover it.’
He turned to his brother. ‘Dirk, all I ask is that we listen a while. If we hear nothing of Sholto we can leave as quietly as we came. Cap need never know we followed him.’
Dirk hesitated, then sighed heavily, and nodded.
They set off after Cap, following the sled tracks and keeping well back. It was dark, but not so dark that they could not see the limping figure ahead. At first the man kept looking over his shoulder, but at last seemed satisfied that he was not being followed. He put his head down and hurried on, very quickly considering his handicap.
‘For a half-starved man with only one leg he manages very well,’ Sonia whispered.
‘They all manage very well,’ said Rye, thinking of Bones, Needle and the old woman Cap had called Floss. ‘If they are indeed some of the exiles from Oltan, they have been seven years in this barren wilderness! It is amazing that they have survived, let alone that they are so strong.’
‘The weaker ones among them died early on, no doubt,’ Dirk said soberly. ‘Only the strong remain.’
His mouth tightened. ‘It is … a terrible thing. They came here to escape Olt, following a leader they trusted, only to find themselves trapped in a situation that is even worse than the one they fled. And the people they left behind have no idea!’
‘I would not have trusted any brother of Olt’s,’ Sonia said.
Dirk shot her a sour look. ‘You do not know what you might have done if you were desperate.’
Sonia shook her head stubbornly.
Ahead, a small light was showing, and shadows were dancing on the ground. The weird cry came again. Cap gave a hoarse answering shout and increased his speed.
As the companions hurried after him, they realised that the yodelling sound had come from Bones—Bones, who was dancing about in front of his sled, holding a flaming torch high, his skull-like face ghastly in the flickering light.
He was facing a monstrous, hissing shape that loomed above him in a cloud of steam.
Rye’s heart seemed to stop. For a split second he thought that the old man was protecting his treasure from some huge, ferocious beast. Then he realised that the hissing object was in fact some sort of gigantic vehicle.
The thing had no shafts, and no goats or horses to draw it. It was made of many odd sheets of metal bolted together, and was very strangely shaped—rather like a monstrous, armoured turtle with a high, square shell. In place of wheels, it had vast metal rollers. Steam billowed from a chimney at its nose, and a rusty tank bulged at its rear. On its battered side was a vividly coloured sign that had clearly been painted in haste by an untrained hand.
‘Ho, Cap!’ Bones shrieked, leaping and waving as he sighted the one-legged man. ‘Four-Eyes says five shivs of tarny root, half a shiv of sea biscuit an’ a bunch of travel weed for ol’ bloodhog skull!’
‘Not near enough,’ Cap shouted back.
‘Bones knows it!’ cried the capering man. ‘Bones tells him! You cheated Bones last time, Four-Eyes, Bones tells him—Cap says you did!’
‘Keep your voice down!’ Cap ordered, glancing nervously over his shoulder. ‘Leave this to me.’
‘There!’ bawled Bones, shaking his fist at the hissing monstrosity. ‘That be telling you, Four-Eyes! You won’t be cheating Cap—oh, no!’
A rich laugh rolled from the steam.
‘Now Bones, my old friend!’ boomed a deep voice. ‘I wish I had something truly worthy to trade for your treasure, but I can’t give what I don’t have, can I? My supplies are very low just now. And what’s all this talk of cheating? Why, I’m the fairest trader in all the Scour. My new sign tells you so! As you would know if you could read it.’
‘You can’t read it neither, Four-Eyes!’ Bones bawled. ‘An’ if it tells what you says it tells, it’s a liar!’
‘Now, take care what you say, my friend,’ the voice said, a hard edge entering the rich tones. ‘You are hurting my feelings. “Liar” is a strong word—very strong. And so is “cheat”, come to that. Why, it almost makes me want to leave you alone entirely! And how would you good people get along, I ask you, without the food I bring?’
‘Ha!’ cried Bones. ‘Little you knows, Four-Eyes! Us has magic ones to aid us now—wizards out of the Saltings! Food us’ll have in plenty, in days to come, an’ golden bowls to eat it out of, too!’
Rye felt himself grow hot. He heard Sonia groan softly beside him, and Dirk grunt in disgust.
‘Bones!’ thundered Cap. ‘Be still!’
But Bones was beyond listening to orders. He was shaking his fist at the vehicle, fairly dancing with rage. And what he said next chilled Rye’s blood.
‘Cap says stranger’s clothes an’ boots an’ bag of treasures was worth three times over what you give for them, Four-Eyes! You catched Bones on the track alone an’ you bedazzled him with your smoothy talk an’ your smiling ways!’
‘Dearie me!’ sighed the voice from the steam. ‘How could Cap say such a thing? As I remember, it was a very fair trade.’
‘Well, it weren’t!’ Bones bawled. ‘Six strips of salty goat an’ half a shiv of tarny root you give for the lot! Cap says Bones’d have done better to keep all stranger’s riches safe for the Den! Then us could’ve used them for the good of all—same as next day us used his bones!’
13 - The Den
Dirk’s arm tensed till it felt like rock beneath Rye’s hand. Rye tightened his grip, warning Dirk to keep silent. His own mind was reeling with what he had heard, but he knew it was vital that Cap, Bones and the trader did not suspect that they were being overheard. The whole story had not yet been told.
‘Wait!’ he breathed in Dirk’s ear.
Dirk glanced at him furiously, showing the whites of his eyes. Rye understood. Dirk was wild with anger because Cap had lied to him. He was mad with grief at the thought that clever, funny, determined Sholto might be dead, his possessions traded for scraps of food, and his bones used to repair Bones’ sled. He wanted to spring out of hiding, confront Cap and Bones, force them to admit what had been done—what Needle and her two henchmen had done, perhaps, with their deadly knives and their fear of the Master’s spies. Rye felt the same. But …
He met Sonia’s serious green eyes. She nodded and put a finger to her lips.
‘Be still, Dirk!’ he hissed. ‘Be still and listen!’
With relief he felt Dirk’s arm relax slightly, and heard his brother breathe out.
Cap had reached Bones. He was speaking to the frenzied man in a low voice, trying to calm him. He was shooting warning looks into the steam, too, as if advising Four-Eyes the trader to say no more.
Rye, Sonia and Dirk crept closer. They saw that the sled had been pulled up beside a flat bridge that was a simple raft of bones lashed together with strings of leather. The bridge spanned a wide, deep trench, the base of which was studded with spears of sharpened bone, their shafts buried, their wicked points aiming at the sky.
On the other side of the trench was a long, low hut. Beside the hut there was the gleam of water, the first the companions had seen in this barren place.
‘The ditch runs all around the hut like a moat, do you see?’ Sonia breathed in Rye’s ear. ‘They must pull in the bridge at night, to keep out bloodhogs and other enemies. Any beast trying to leap the gap would risk falling onto the points of those spears.’