5. Minerva Points the Way

Inside the tree, the sight which met their eyes was not at all what they had expected. In our world, owls’ nests are smelly, messy places, but Minerva’s nest was not like that at all. A copper oil-lamp hung from the ceiling, filling the room with a warm, gentle light. The floor was polished to a bright shine and was covered with colourful tab rugs. Bone china crockery gleamed from a lovely, old dresser. A grandfather clock ticked solemnly away in a corner; and, against one wall, stood a little, carved table on which there was a bowl of roses and a large, brass ear-trumpet. Next to the table, in a large rocking chair, was Minerva herself.
The children could tell at once that the owl was very old indeed. Her plumage was, for the most part, grey and white, and, above her ears, there were large bald patches where she had lost her feathers altogether. She wore a crocheted shawl over her shoulders, and her legs and feet were buried under a rug which was tucked into the chair around her.
‘Well, now,’ she said as the children stood in the entrance. ‘So that’s what Children of Tellus look like. I’ve always wondered. Come a little closer so that I can get a proper look at you.’
The children went a step or two nearer and Simon pulled the parcel (which was now looking a bit battered) from his pocket.
‘We’ve brought you this,’ he said. ‘We hope you like it.’
Minerva took the parcel from him and shakily tore it open. ‘What is it?’ she said, peering at the squashed-up, little creature inside.
‘It’s a dormouse,’ said Katy.
‘A dormouse!’ said Minerva fiercely. ‘Well, I don’t want it and I don’t need it. I’m not too old to catch my own food yet, you know. That I’m not!’ But Katy noticed she put the gift carefully on the table beside her.
Then Minerva caught sight of the rabbit. ‘And who are you?’ she asked.
‘Drimwort, ma’am,’ said Drimwort.
‘Dimwit!’ said Minerva. ‘What sort of a name is that?’
‘No, ma’am,’ said the rabbit. ‘DRIMWORT!’
‘Drimwort, eh,’ said Minerva. ‘Why didn’t you say so the first time? Now, what do you all want?’
With much shouting and repetition and much use of the ear trumpet, Katy and Simon told Minerva their story; and Aquila (who had stayed outside the door) put his head in from time to time to add bits which he thought were important. Then Drimwort reminded Minerva of the prophecy — especially the bit about the need to ‘give blind Olrik back his sight’ and Katy repeated Elyon’s last words to her.
‘Elyon said that when I met you I was to ask you what you know about Olrik. That was the name — Olrik. He said it is Olrik that we have to find. Please, Minerva, who is Olrik?’
Minerva rocked slowly backwards and forward in her chair, her eyes closed in thought. ‘I know no one in Shalanor of that name,’ she said at last.
‘Oh, but you must,’ cried Katy. ‘Elyon wouldn’t have sent us on a wild goose chase! You must know Olrik. Please, try to think!’
‘I said that I know no one in Shalanor of that name,’ repeated Minerva. ‘But I once heard tell of an Olrik who lived in Shalanor in ages past — long, long ago, back in the days of the Long Twilight when the Prince of Darkness reigned; before even my great-great-great-grandmother was a chick. It was said (if my memory serves me right) that he was a giant of some kind who lived up in the far north. Why I should remember him at all, I cannot say. He must have come into the old stories somewhere, but for what reason I do not know.’
‘Well it can’t be that Olrik,’ said Simon, full of disappointment. ‘Even giants don’t live three hundred years, do they?’
‘Nay, Son of Tellus,’ said Minerva. ‘Olrik — whoever he was — will have been dead these past two centuries and more. But he may have had children or grandchildren or great-grandchildren, and one of them might bear his name.’
‘Of course,’ said Simon. ‘That must be it! But how can we find out for sure?’
‘You will need to go far beyond here to the Northern Peak — to the great mountains which border on Murkland,’ said Minerva. ‘One or two giants still live there, so I’m told — though most now live on Farthing Edge, over to the east. Look for Giant Trumblegast. He was already old when I last saw him but, if he’s still alive, he’ll know of any Giant Olrik and he will help you. Tell him you come from me.’
‘Oh, thank you, Minerva,’ said Katy. ‘That must be what Elyon wanted you to tell us. I knew you must know something.’ But Minerva was not listening. She had fallen asleep and was snoring gently.
‘Come on,’ whispered Simon. ‘We’d better be going.’
Quietly, they left the house and slipped down the rope ladder.
‘Well,’ said Drimwort when they were all back at the foot of the tree. ‘What do we do now? Even if we decide to take Minerva’s advice, we can’t set off until morning.’ He peered into the surrounding darkness. ‘Piecrust and parsnips,’ he said. ‘I don’t like being in these woods at night.’
‘On the contrary,’ said Aquila. ‘You must set off now — or as soon as possible. Darkness is the best cover you can have, and you will need it if you are to leave Shalanor without being seen by Morlok’s spies.’
The two children looked at the eagle in dismay.
‘Aren’t you going to carry us to the far north?’ asked Katy.
‘I cannot,’ said Aquila. ‘I have other orders to obey. Elyon’s orders.’
‘Well, I do think Elyon might have planned things a bit better,’ said Simon sulkily. ‘The Northern Peak sounds to be a heck of a long way away, and it’s going to take us forever to get there if we’ve got to walk.’
‘You will not have to walk,’ said Aquila. ‘Or not all the time, anyway. Elyon has provided a mount for you. The noble Xanthus will already be waiting for us east of here, at the edge of Kinder Chase.’
‘What is Xanthus — a horse?’ asked Katy.
‘You might say so,’ said Aquila with a smile. ‘But he’ll not be too pleased with you if you do! Xanthus is a unicorn. The greatest of the unicorns. A descendant of Zocantus himself. And he, like others I could mention, is not accustomed to being used as a beast of burden!’ At this, Aquila stretched his wings a little as if they ached. ‘But, don’t worry. Xanthus, for all his breeding, will serve you well — as I hope I have done — for Elyon’s sake.’
As he talked, Aquila was threading his way through the trees and these now began to thin out as they came towards the edge of the forest. From somewhere to their right, they heard a distant ‘Hrrmph’ and the stamping of a hoof.
‘That’s Xanthus — and he’s getting impatient by the sound of it,’ said Aquila. He changed course slightly and soon they came out of the trees. There, standing before them in the moonlight and tearing up the lush meadow grass by the mouthful, was a unicorn of such splendour that he quite took the children’s breath away. He was white as snow and his horn and tail and mane were like silver. His eyes were black as jet, and he was taller than any horse that they had ever seen.
‘So you have come, Xanthus,’ said Aquila.
‘Elyon commanded it,’ said Xanthus in a strong, if somewhat haughty, voice. ‘And it is my joy to do his will. Praise be to Elyon!’ He turned his head and lovingly polished his horn against his flank.
‘Elyon’s name be praised,’ replied Aquila. He turned to Drimwort and the children. ‘Here is Simon, Son of Tellus, and Katy, Daughter of Earth. Drimwort you already know.’
The unicorn looked at them. ‘Can you ride?’ he asked.
‘We’ve both ridden ponies,’ said Simon. ‘But we’re not very good, I’m afraid.’
Xanthus snorted. ‘Ponies!’ he said. ‘Well, it can’t be helped, you will have to learn.’
‘I intend to walk, anyway,’ said Drimwort.
‘I never intended that you should do otherwise,’ said the unicorn, tossing his head so that his mane shimmered in the moonlight.
‘Er — Where’s the tack?’ asked Simon, looking rather apprehensive.
‘Tack?’ said Xanthus. ‘What is "tack"?’
‘The harness and the saddle and so on,’ said Simon. ‘At the pony club, they call it tack.’
‘I will not tell you what I call it!’ whinnied Xanthus, his eyes flashing with anger. ‘No one will put a saddle on my back or a bit in my mouth. No one will touch my sides with spurs. No one, I say. Not even a —’ From the dark woods behind them came the sad, reproachful notes of panpipes which only Xanthus seemed to hear. He faltered, glanced nervously into the trees and continued in a softer, more gentle voice. ‘Not even a Son of Tellus,’ he said.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Simon. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that we’ve never ridden anything without a saddle and — well — we’ll probably fall off quite a lot.’
‘No,’ said Xanthus. ‘It is I who should be sorry. Forgive me. I was hasty and unkind. Listen, Simon, Son of Tellus, and Katy, Daughter of Earth! I shall teach you to ride without saddle and without falling. Drimwort, help them to mount.’
It was easier said than done, but, eventually, both children were seated on the unicorn’s back. It seemed much higher than it had looked from the ground — ‘Like sitting on a roof top,’ said Simon later — and, in his nervousness, he leaned forward, clinging tightly to Xanthus’ mane. Katy lay against Simon, her arms wrapped around his waist.
‘Oh, Elyon preserve us!’ said Xanthus. ‘That won’t do at all. Rule number one — No holding on to my mane! How would you like it if someone was riding on your back and held onto your hair! Let go! And rule number two — Grip me with your knees. Tighter! Go on, tighter! There, that’s better! Now, rule number three — Sit up straight. No, no, no! I said straight — like sticks of celery, not like sticks of wilting rhubarb. That’s it! Now. Tuck your elbows into your sides. That’s right. Last of all, put your hands in your lap and leave them there. Good! That’s really all there is to it. So — are you ready? Let’s try a little walk!’
Moving slowly, Xanthus walked round in a circle, the children perched stiffly on his back. ‘You’re doing fine, but just relax a little,’ he said. ‘Now let’s try a canter.’
The canter was not quite as successful as the walk had been. Simon panicked and released his grip almost as soon as he felt Xanthus gathering speed. He grabbed at the unicorn’s mane but thudded to the ground, very nearly taking Katy with him. Fortunately the turf was soft and springy and Simon suffered nothing more than a slight bruising. I am sure that, in their own world, both children would have fallen off Xanthus a great deal more often before they became skilful at riding him bareback; but somehow, in Shalanor, they quickly mastered the art. Once they had done so, Xanthus said it was time that they were on their way.
Although they were all still full after their meal with Brock and Beatrice Beaver, Simon pointed out that they had no food or other supplies for their journey.
‘It is well thought,’ said Aquila. ‘But you need take nothing with you. Elyon has said that he will provide.’ The eagle stretched his great wings and prepared for flight. ‘Now I must take my leave of you,’ he said.
‘Oh, Aquila,’ said Katy. ‘I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye to you.’
‘Never fear,’ Aquila reassured her. ‘We shall meet again before your adventure is over. I know it. Meanwhile, be strong and of good courage. And remember — Elyon will not ask you to do anything beyond what you are able. With every task, he will give you the means to perform it.’ And, with that, Aquila flew off into the darkness.
‘Oh dear, I shall miss him,’ said Katy. ‘It made me feel so safe to have a bird like Aquila with us.’
‘I’ll miss him too,’ said Simon.
‘Well, if it’s avian companionship you’re after, you can really do no better than me,’ croaked a deep, gruff voice from the trees. There was a flurry of wings and a large raven landed at their feet. It strutted up and down, cocking its head to one side and looking up at them. ‘Roken,’ it said, introducing itself. ‘Raven extraordinaire! I’m coming with you.’
‘Has Elyon sent you to us in Aquila’s place?’ asked Katy.
‘I’ve been sent all right,’ said the raven.
Xanthus snorted and pawed the ground. ‘Elyon said nothing to me about a raven joining us,’ he said suspiciously; and he prodded the great, black bird with the tip of his silver horn.
‘It must have slipped his mind,’ said Roken, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to get out of the unicorn’s range. ‘He’s a busy faun, you know. But, don’t worry — he told me all about you. You’re Xanthus, aren’t you? They’re Children of Tellus, and that’s Drimwort. Some of you have just been to see Minerva and now you’re all off to find Trumblegast; but the real quest is to find Olrik. Am I right or am I right? So — are we ready for off?’
‘Whoa! Just hang on a minute,’ said Drimwort. ‘Since when have you been a friend of Elyon? I know you. I’ve seen you hanging around Witton Barracks, laughing and joking with Morlok’s lot.’
‘My, my, what a clever rabbit!’ sneered Roken. ‘Yes, all right — you have seen me at the Barracks; I admit it. But "infiltration" is what they call it. I happen to be one of Elyon’s undercover agents. I’m a spy. If I wasn’t a raven, I’d be a mole.’ He cackled at his own joke. ‘A mole! Get it?’
‘How do we know you’re telling the truth?’ asked Drimwort.
‘You don’t,’ snapped Roken. ‘You’ll just have to take my word for it. Now, are we going or not?’
‘Yes, we’re going,’ said Xanthus unhappily. ‘We’ve wasted more than enough time already. And I suppose you’ll have to come with us. Though I still cannot understand why Elyon didn’t tell me if he was sending you to join us. So I give you fair warning — I’ll be watching you, Master Roken. Oh yes, I’ll be watching you!’
‘And so shall I,’ muttered Drimwort.
The party moved off in silence, heading due north. Hour after hour they journeyed through the darkness, growing ever more weary and hungry and thirsty. Then, just when it seemed that the night would never end, dawn began to break to the right of them. Slowly, pale fingers of light crept across the sky until, far ahead of them, they touched the mountains of the Northern Peak — remote and beautiful.
Xanthus looked on them with satisfaction. ‘We have made good progress,’ he said, slowing to a halt. ‘But our need now is for rest and refreshment; and I must confess to being at something of a loss — I simply do not know where food and drink might be found in these parts. Though the grass here looks quite excellent, I realise that it’s not to everyone’s taste. So — now what shall we do?’
Ever since dawn had begun to break, Roken had been flying overhead in wide circles. Now he flew back to where the little party had paused. ‘Turn east,’ he said. ‘There’s a large house about two leagues from here, as the raven flies. It looks a friendly sort of place. I don’t know who lives there, but let’s invite ourselves to breakfast.’
‘How far is a league?’ whispered Katy to Simon.
‘Three miles, I think,’ said Simon. ‘So it’ll take us the best part of two hours to get there.’
‘I’m not sure that we ought to turn aside,’ said Xanthus, speaking to the raven. ‘Elyon’s clear instructions to me were to keep heading due north. He said nothing about going east to fill our stomachs.’
‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ croaked the raven. ‘How pedantic can you get? Everyone’s got to eat! Elyon knows that as well as we do. And he expects us to use a little common sense.’
‘He said that he would provide for us,’ said Xanthus.
‘Well, so he has,’ said Roken. ‘The food is over there — due east — and so is the drink and everything else we need. All we’ve got to do is to go and get it! We can easily get back on course again later.’
‘If Xanthus thinks we ought to go straight on, I’m ready to go along with him,’ said Katy (though, by now, she was very hungry indeed).
‘So am I,’ said Drimwort.
‘Well, I’m with Roken,’ said Simon. ‘I really can’t see what harm there is in turning aside for a bite to eat. It’s not as if we’re going back or anything.’
‘Are you quite sure that there’s nowhere straight ahead of us where we can get food?’ said Xanthus to the raven.
‘No. I’ve told you,’ said Roken. ‘There’s only this one house — over there in the east. But forget about it, if you want. It’s nothing to me whether you go there or not.’ He jabbed at the ground with his beak, plucked out a grub and swallowed it. ‘I’ll not go hungry, wherever I end up.’
Xanthus deliberated for a while. ‘Very well,’ he said at last. ‘We’ll turn aside. Though, by the Pipes of Elyon, I would rather we didn’t have to!’
The sun had now risen and, in much discomfort, they rode and walked directly into its glare, their long shadows stretched out behind them. But, eventually, they topped a rise and saw below them in a small valley the house of which Roken had told them. It was surrounded by gardens, beautifully laid out with lawns, statues, shrubberies and fountains. A weathercock on top of a dovecote glinted in the sunlight, and the five travellers could see someone strolling down one of the garden paths.
When they got closer, they saw that the person was a large and portly black cat. He carried an open book and, as he walked, he chanted softly from it underneath his breath. He wore a black suit, a purple shirt and, around his neck, a broad, white collar from which hung a large, golden pendant in the shape of a faun. On hearing the sound of the party’s approach, he looked up, startled. Then he hurried to open the gate and beamed at them benevolently.
‘Why, visitors!’ he cried. ‘Good morning, good morning! And welcome! Welcome to my humble abode! My, my, but you look weary. Do, I pray you, step inside and let me offer you some sustenance. Oh, this is such a pleasure! One gets so few visitors, you know, out here at the back of beyond. My name is Dunelm, by the way — Doctor Dunelm. Tell me, have you travelled far?’