Charlie Bone and the Shadow of Badlock. Jenny Nimmo
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fathoms high. I am only two-thirds his height. My brothers are even smaller. Perhaps our descendants will be a more manageable size.’ He glanced at Roland and then said urgently, ‘But please, have you news of my wife?’
Tolemeo lowered his gaze. His slight uncomfortable shrug caused the giant’s heart to miss a beat.
‘Tell me, please,’ cried Otus, ‘even if it is the worst a man can expect.’
‘Your wife went to her brother Amadis . . .’ Tolemeo began.
‘Yes, yes,’ broke in the giant. ‘We heard that Count Harken was on his way. I thought she would be safe with Amadis. She had a mirror, made by her father, the king, and she used it – for travelling.’ Otus looked into the faces that stared up at him. They didn’t seem surprised. ‘You know of the mirror?’
‘We do,’ Tolemeo affirmed. ‘And we know that it is what Harken craves.’
The giant’s mouth twisted in a bitter smile. ‘Count Harken may be an enchanter but he craves everything the king, your father, ever made or owned. They surrounded our house, Harken and his army of trolls and thugs. Amoret tried to take our baby with her, she thought the mirror would transport them both but, somehow, it would not work for Roland. He fell into my arms just as his mother vanished. Minutes later, Harken broken into the house and captured us. They brought us here to Badlock and for two years we have been imprisoned in one of his many towers. Three days ago I kicked out at the wretched troll who brought our food and while he was still reeling from the pain of my boot, clever Roland pushed him into a cupboard and locked the door.’
‘And then I untied my father’s bonds,’ said Roland. ‘They didn’t know I had grown so strong, or they would have chained me to the wall, like my poor father.’
The giant lifted his son into his arms. ‘We have been travelling ever since, but with these accursed winds it is hard to make progress. If we can reach the coast and get a boat, we’ll find my wife no matter what. I’ve heard her brother, Amadis, has a fine castle, on an island in the western sea.’
The silence that greeted this remark was so profound it seemed like a dark chasm where the giant’s mind refused to go.
‘Tell me,’ he whispered.
‘Your wife is dead,’ said Tolemeo steadily. ‘Owain will tell you the rest, for he was there.’
Roland buried his head in his father’s neck, his shoulders heaving with quiet sobs. I have known this all along, thought Otus. How could I have hoped to avoid the truth? ‘Tell me,’ he said.
Owain slipped off his rocky perch and passed the torch to Tolemeo. Then, clasping his hands together, he looked steadily into the giant’s face and began, ‘It was my own uncle, your wife’s older brother Borlath. You must know that he is one of Harken’s allies. He found my father’s island and the castle he had built. The loveliest castle in all the world, they said. Borlath wanted it. He brought an army of mercenaries and tried to starve us out, but my father, who could speak with animals, called to the wolves, the bats, the birds and the rats. The rats were especially useful, they ate all Borlath’s supplies. When winter came the mercenaries grew sullen, they wanted to leave, and that’s when Borlath used his awful power. I saw it myself from the battlements; fire came from his hands, flames from every finger.’ Owain held up his hands, his fingers spread wide. ‘In a second a ring of fire had encircled us. My father lifted me down. “Run, Owain,” he cried. “Run to the well as fast as you can, and don’t come out until I tell you.” So I ran. And as I went I looked up and a bright mirror came flying over my head, and I caught it, and far, far away, I heard Amoret call out, “Give the mirror to my son.” And I went down the well, and my raven came with me. He was my friend, you see, and I talk his language.
‘From the depths of the well we listened, Raven and me. We listened to screams, to roaring flames, to beams tearing and crashing, to moans and cries and boulders falling. And I smelt fire, and worse than fire.’ Owain lifted his glistening eyes to the sky and his chest rose and fell, as though he were fighting for breath. Tolemeo put a hand on his shoulder, and the boy continued, ‘And then it was quiet, very quiet, and I knew my father could never tell me to come out; I knew I would never hear his voice again. So I came out anyway. And they were all dead. Everyone.’
The giant’s mouth had fallen open, but his cry was silent. Roland turned his head to stare at Owain. Horror had dried up his tears.
Owain said gently, ‘When I came out it was snowing, and the castle walls were as shiny as glass, so shiny I could see my face in them.’
‘It was the work of a magician,’ said Tolemeo, ‘my father’s friend, Mathonwy. He sent a cloud of snow to smother the flames. But his help came too late to save Amadis and Amoret. I was in Toledo, my mother’s city, when it happened.’
Owain clasped Tolemeo’s hand. ‘I sent my raven to find him, and since the day Tolemeo arrived, we have been searching for you.’ He put his hand into his jerkin and drew out a mirror set in a jewelled frame. The glass was so brilliant it was as if the sun had touched their faces.
The giant gasped, and turned his head away. ‘Amoret,’ he murmured.
Tolemeo took the mirror from Owain and thrust it into the giant’s hands. ‘Take the mirror, Otus Yewbeam,’ he said sternly. ‘You have lost your wife but you still have your son.’
The giant was about to reply when Tolemeo suddenly spun on his heel, his nostrils flaring, his eyes wide and alert. ‘They are upon us,’ he cried.
‘I heard nothing,’ said the giant.
‘Nevertheless.’ Tolemeo lifted Roland on to his shoulders. ‘We have but a moment.’ He began to stride round the lake. ‘Otus, make haste. They approach.’
The giant stood, clutching the mirror to his chest. He looked up to the rim of the hollow, and there they were – a long line of shadows weaving through the trees. A deep, nasal roar filled the giant’s ears as Harken’s troll army began to run down the steep bank. Their tiny eyes and scribble mouths were all but hidden in the fleshy spread of their huge noses. They wore scaley breastplates of dull metal, and tall, ridiculous helmets that disguised their lumpy heads. Their weapons were cudgels, spears and deadly slingshots, and behind them came a group of hideous beings that were neither troll nor human.
The giant began to run, his long legs easily clearing the rocks at the lake’s edge. Ahead of him, he could see Roland’s small face gazing back from Tolemeo’s shoulders. ‘Run, Father, run,’ called the little boy.
The trolls’ bellowing filled the hollow. Rocks and spears began to rain down from every side, and now the giant could see that they were surrounded.
‘The Count is angry,’ a thick, rasping voice announced. ‘He punished me for your escape, Otus Yewbeam. And now I shall punish you.’
The giant recognised Oddthumb, leader of Harken’s guards. He was bigger than the others and his face was a corpse-like grey, but what marked him out was the thumb of his right hand, a huge, gnarled, stumpy thing, wider than his palm.
Otus ducked as a rock came winging from Oddthumb’s slingshot.
‘The mirror, Father,’ cried Roland. ‘Use the mirror to save yourself. Mother would have wished it.’
Tolemeo stopped and called back, ‘It’s the truth, Otus. Give them the mirror. It will slow them down. I will save your son, but you will have to fend for yourself.’
‘Save Roland,’ cried the giant, and he threw the mirror high into the air.
Every troll face was raised in fear and astonishment as the shining circle spun to earth, its radiance piercing their weak eyes and momentarily blinding them.
A howl of pain and fury went up. The mirror dropped at Oddthumb’s feet. He felt its weight but couldn’t see it.
‘Farewell, Otus!’ called Tolemeo.
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