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Authors: Anne Forbes

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Lady Ellan turned and smiled a welcome as Lord Rothlan, Sir James and the MacLeans walked into a small cavern that had been hurriedly decorated in the Turkish style in honour of the Sultan’s visit. Arthur, curled beside her chair, reared up and hissed softly in pleasure as he saw the children.

“It’s just like being in Turkey again, isn’t it?” Sir James remarked as they entered; for the walls had been lined with low divans, Turkish carpets lay deep on the floor and several of the ornate brass coffee tables scattered round the room were piled high with large dishes of fruit.

“Bags I sit beside Arthur,” Neil said quickly, as he ran to sit beside Lady Ellan. Clara, however, just grinned and moved towards Lord Rothlan so that she could be beside Amgarad.

As the Sultan entered, deep in conversation with the MacArthur, they all stood in respect and, following Lord Rothlan’s lead, bowed low.

“The Sultan and I have been discussing the crown,” the MacArthur said, settling himself on a divan while Arthur curled himself carefully by his side. “You will all be pleased to hear that Lord Rothlan has agreed to lead a party in a quest to get it back. Ellan will go with him and possibly Jaikie and Hamish.” The MacArthur looked doubtfully at Sir James and the Ranger as though hesitant to involve them in danger. “How do you feel about going, James?”

“I’d love to but I really don’t see how I can,” Sir James said with a frown. “Not only from the work point of view but I think I’d actually be of more use here in Edinburgh. From what Archie tells me, it seems that Prince Kalman is calling himself Edward Stuart. As he’s a Member of the Scottish Parliament I want to
find out what devilment he’s up to. Especially if the French are involved! You know that their trawlers have been fishing illegally in our waters and attacking our boats?”

The MacArthur nodded. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Kalman’s behind it all — and the very fact that he’s had himself made a Member of the Scottish Parliament is a bad sign. Quite frankly,” he sighed, “the sooner we get the crown back, the happier I’ll be!”

The MacArthur’s eyes then turned from Sir James to the Ranger.

John MacLean didn’t wait to be asked but nodded
immediately
. “I’m quite prepared to go, if you think I’d be of any use.”

“And us, Dad!” interrupted Neil. “Don’t leave us out! We want to go! Don’t we, Clara?” said Neil imploringly. “It would be such an adventure and Lord Rothlan and Lady Ellan are going as well!”

There was a hushed silence as everyone looked at the Ranger and his wife. John MacLean heaved a sigh but knew he had to refuse. “I’m really sorry,” he said, looking guiltily at the MacArthur, “but it might be quite dangerous.”

As the Sultan and the MacArthur exchanged dismayed glances, Sir James spoke hastily. “Maybe we should talk a bit about the risks first,” he said. “For instance, where is the crown? Does anyone actually know?”

“If Kalman has magic mirrors in his house then he will probably be keeping the crown at Ardray,” Lord Rothlan answered. “He’ll have his mirrors set so that he can travel backwards and forwards easily.”

“Where
is
Ardray?” Clara asked.

“Ardray? It’s in Appin; quite close to Jarishan.”

“Is his castle on an island, like yours?” Neil queried.

Rothlan shook his head. “Kalman’s castle lies in the middle of a magic forest,” he said. “It’s actually more of a tower than anything else. The Black Tower of Ardray,” he mused. “I used to go there quite often when I was young. Kalman and I were
friends in those days. Since then, it seems to have changed a lot. From what I hear, the magic forest is full of goblins now.”

“Wow!” Neil’s eyes widened at the thought.

“Couldn’t you use the mirrors you have here in the hill to get to Kalman’s castle, MacArthur?” queried the Ranger.

“That would be risky,” was the reply. “Mirrors are not only tricky things to set but they can quite easily be locked against intruders. And if you get caught between mirrors — when both sides are locked, that is — well, that’s more or less it! You get held in a kind of limbo land!”

“Won’t the crown be protected?” queried Sir James.

The MacArthur nodded. “Its magic will protect it but the Sultan doesn’t see that as an obstacle. He knows the magic words that will release it from any spell. Whoever says them will be able to take the crown from Ardray.”

“Well, that all
sounds
relatively straightforward,” said Sir James, “but how would you get there? On magic carpets?”

“We’ve talked about that,” Rothlan interrupted, “but the MacArthur feels that we would be too easily discovered. Birds and other animals can see magic carpets in the air and Kalman has his spies watching us already. According to Hamish, one of his crows has been patrolling Arthur’s Seat, so we have decided that it would be best to travel back in time and only revert to the present when we reach Ardray.”

The Ranger looked dismayed. “Travel through time!” he echoed. “But I thought …” he stammered, “I thought we’d be going by car or by train to the nearest station.”

“You’d never get there,” Rothlan assured him. “Any train or bus we travelled in would be sure to have an accident and we can’t take the risk of innocent people being hurt, you know.”

“You’ll be well looked after, Ranger, I assure you,” the Sultan added. “I’m supplying everything you’ll need for the journey — including the finest horses from my stables at Ruksh.”

“At Ruksh?” repeated Lord Rothlan and Lady Ellan together, meeting the Sultan’s eyes in startled wonder.

Neil met Clara’s eyes in rising excitement. No way was he going to miss out on this adventure. A journey through Scotland on horseback!
In the past!

“It’s not actually the journey that worries me, Ranger,” the Sultan said dismissively. “It’ll only take a few days and you’ll travel safely enough with Lord Rothlan looking after you. No, if there is going to be a problem, it’ll be with the crown itself; for Prince Casimir, remember, used its own magic against it.” He regarded them all seriously. “You see, the fact remains that although it lay for many years in Lord Rothlan’s loch, it didn’t reveal itself to him, did it? Although it tried to attach itself to Arthur,” and here he turned to the dragon and inclined his head, “it didn’t stay with him either but, in the end, fell back into the loch and returned to its master, Kalman. The Meridens have a very strong hold on the crown and what I am afraid of is that, after what happened in the loch, nobody here will be able to take it from Kalman, even with the magic words. Except, perhaps …”

“Who?” asked Sir James, looking at him sharply.

The Sultan looked apologetically at the MacLeans. “The children,” he said.

He raised his hand at the murmur of dissent. “Please let me explain. The children have no magic in their bodies for the crown to react to, but if I implant the words of the spell in them, I will virtually be speaking through them and my words will be powerful enough to break any spell that ties the crown to the prince.”

“Yeeeah!” Neil leapt to his feet, punching the air. “Great!
Now
can we go, Dad?”

Clara, too, looked excited as Neil grabbed her hands and whirled her round and round.

“Clara! Neil! Calm down the pair of you,” Mrs MacLean scolded. “Really, your behaviour! And in front of the Sultan, too!”

Both children collapsed on the divan, their eyes shining with
excitement.

“It’s all right, Mrs MacLean,” the Sultan said, his lips curving in a rare smile. “I, too, was young once.”

At this remark, Sir James shot him a speculative glance. Just how long ago, he wondered, had
that
been!

“Perhaps,” suggested Lord Rothlan, “it might be a good idea for Neil and Clara to wait in the Great Hall until we’ve talked this over.”

John MacLean nodded in agreement. “Off you go, you two,” he said. “We’ll call you back when we’ve decided what to do.”

Neil made a face at Clara but they got to their feet willingly enough and walked along the short tunnel that led to the Great Hall.

“What d’you think, Neil?” Clara asked despondently as they plumped themselves down on a couple of cushions. “Mum’ll never let us go. Not in a month of Sundays, she won’t!”

In this, she was mistaken, however, as once Mrs MacLean heard Lord Rothlan’s plan to take the crown from Ardray, she looked less worried and eyed her husband questioningly.

“Neil and Clara are as dear to us as they are to you, John,” Lady Ellan urged gently. “We’ll all protect them from any harm that might come their way, you know that. And remember, you’ll be with us, after all.”

“The Sultan, too, turned towards the MacLeans. “I know how you both feel,” he said, meeting their eyes understandingly, “but if you allow the children to carry my words, I assure you that they will be protected throughout the journey. It’s my intention to give each rider a magic cloak. As long as they are wearing them, neither heat nor cold, hunger nor thirst will affect them — and, of course, the cloaks will shield them from any hexes that may come their way.”

“Our plan is relatively simple and straightforward,” Rothlan said, outlining what they intended to do. “Kalman may be a powerful magician but even he can’t be in two places at once, you know. The MacArthur will keep in touch with us through
the crystal and when Kalman’s attending an important meeting or a session in parliament, he’ll tell us so that we can go into the tower and take the crown.”

“What about getting through the magic forest, though? Won’t there be a protective shield round it to keep people out?” the Ranger objected.

“Probably,” admitted Rothlan, turning to the Sultan.

“The magic words will destroy any protective shield,” the Sultan assured him.

“You see, it’s really of the utmost importance that we take the crown from Kalman,” Rothlan said, his voice serious, “and to be honest, John, I think that giving the magic words to the children is probably our only chance of getting it back at all.”

Janet MacLean pursed her lips. She liked and trusted Lord Rothlan and knew that as far as the crown was concerned, he spoke the truth. Looking at her husband, her forehead creased in a worried frown, she said at last. “You’ll be with the children, John, and … and the Sultan has given us his word.”

Although the Ranger looked doubtful, he nevertheless appreciated the truth of what had been said and, seeing the set of serious and concerned faces that confronted him, finally nodded his head in agreement.

The Sultan rose to his feet and shook him by the hand. “Thank you, Mr MacLean,” he said gratefully. “I appreciate the trust you have put in us. You will all travel under my protection and need have no fear of the future.”

At a nod from the MacArthur, Arthur rose to his feet and made his way to the Great Hall where Neil and Clara sat glumly.

“Up on my back, you two,” Arthur said. “I’ll take you back to the Sultan.”

Neil looked at Clara in dismay as they climbed up onto Arthur’s wing and slid their legs over his neck. The dragon’s voice gave nothing away and so convinced were they that they wouldn’t be allowed to go that they could hardly take it in when their father told them that they, too, would be going on
the quest for the crown.

“Gosh, Dad! That’s fabulous!” Neil’s face shone. “Didn’t I tell you, Clara! Didn’t I tell you that another adventure was on the way! I knew it! I just knew it!”

The Sultan beckoned Neil and Clara to his side and took their hands in his. The huge ruby in his ring glinted red as his fingers closed over theirs. “
Kutaya Soloi
.” The strange words, spoken softly, sent a tingling wave of magic through them and, such was the power of the hex, were no sooner heard than forgotten.

The hawk-like face of the Sultan looked at them gravely. “You now know the magic words that you must say to break the shield round the crown,” he said. “I wish you both well.”

Neil thought hard and then shook his head doubtfully. “I … I’m sorry,” he said, “I heard you say them but I can’t seem to remember them.” He flashed an anxious glance at Clara. “Can you, Clara?”

Clara, too, shook her head and looked at the Sultan
enquiringly
.

The Sultan’s eyes twinkled suddenly. “Don’t worry,” he smiled, “you will know them when you need them, I promise.”

A few days later, as he watched his secretary, Janice, leave his office at the distillery, Sir James hoped fervently that she hadn’t noticed the look of dismay that had crossed his face as she had detailed his meetings for the afternoon. She’d certainly looked suspicious when she’d mentioned that the Chief Constable of Edinburgh, Sir Archibald Thompson, had rung to make an urgent appointment.

Sir James sighed as he leant back in his chair and wondered what on earth he was going to say to Archie Thompson. Just as he had been congratulating himself on the success of the
weekend
shoot, too. Grimly, he reached for his telephone and dialled the Ranger’s number with a hand that shook slightly.

“Come on, answer, blast you,” he muttered as the telephone rang and rang.

“MacLean here,” the Ranger’s voice suddenly boomed
confidently
down the line.

“John! Thank goodness you’re in. Listen, I’ve just had some bad news and I thought I’d better warn you in case you have a visit from the police.”

“The police?” repeated the Ranger, somewhat startled.

“The police,” confirmed Sir James. “My secretary has just told me that while I was out, the Chief Constable called to make an appointment to see me this afternoon.”

“The Chief Constable!” echoed the Ranger in dismay. “But … but … why? You haven’t had any more problems at the distillery, have you?”

“Of course not! That was all sorted out last year. Everything’s fine!”

“Do you think he’s maybe collecting for a police charity,
then?”

“For heaven’s sake, John, I’m sure he has a lot more on his plate than charity work. What worries me is that there actually could be a very good reason for his coming here and to tell you the truth, I’m sweating at the thought of it!”

“What on earth’s that?”

“Remember the night we took Arthur to Loch Ness? When the police stopped the transporter as we were about to leave the park?”

“Don’t I just! I thought it was all over for us at the time!”

“Well, I didn’t mention it to you then, but the Chief Constable was actually among the police that stopped us. He wasn’t in uniform; perhaps he’d been dining nearby and been called out in the general alarm, but I knew him right away. I was at school with a cousin of his and we met up once or twice at cricket matches and the like. I always had it in the back of my mind that he might have recognized me but as nothing was ever said, I thought … well, I thought I’d got away with it.”

“Even if he did see you, James, what can he do? After all, it was ages ago! He can’t arrest you for travelling in a transporter with a load of sheep on board. The MacArthur made himself and the dragon invisible. All that the police saw in the back of the transporter were sheep!”

“I know, I know,” Sir James muttered, “but pulling the wool over the eyes of the Chief Constable is a serious matter …”

“James,” the Ranger sounded alarmed, “James, you
can’t
mention what really went on that night. Heavens man, they’ll have you certified! And what can he say, after all? You’re a respectable MSP and so are your friends. Chat on about the grouse shooting and the moors and you’ll be fine! Anyway, how
did
you enjoy your shoot over the weekend? Did the French Consul turn up?”

“He did, although after reading the headlines in
The Scotsman
that morning I rather think he’d had second thoughts. The press really has it in for him, you know! Lord Rothlan went
along to his house just to make sure he didn’t change his mind!”

“Rothlan! What on earth did
he
have to do with it?”

“Remember you suggested that we send Amgarad into the French Consulate as a spy?”

“I do. I also remember that Amgarad didn’t seem
particularly
thrilled at the suggestion!”

“Well, Rothlan must have thought it a good idea and talked him into it.”

“You’re not trying to tell me that de Charillon has adopted a hulking, great eagle as a pet, are you?”

“Not an eagle … a grouse!”

“You must be joking!”

“I’m not,” Sir James grinned, despite himself. “Rothlan cast a spell to
make
the poor fellow join the party so he wasn’t in the best of tempers to start with. Not only that, I think Rothlan fixed it so that de Charillon didn’t manage to hit a single bird all day. He was completely devastated as he’s generally reckoned a pretty good shot and although I kept telling him it wasn’t the end of the world, he knew quite well that everyone was
laughing
at him behind his back.”

“Stands to reason, doesn’t it,” commented the Ranger.

“Ah! But he got his grouse in the end! And he didn’t shoot it! That’s what finished everyone off.”

“What on earth happened?”

“Well, visibility was starting to get bad and, when the last flight of grouse flew over, De Charillon missed again. Then there was another burst of fire and when I looked up I saw a last, solitary grouse weaving its way towards the butts in a hail of gunshot. Well, I just knew it was Amgarad, didn’t I.”

“Amgarad? A grouse?”

“Believe me, you never saw a plumper, fatter grouse than this one! How it managed to get off the ground, I’ll never know. Everyone at the butts was trying to blast it out of the sky and, of course, nothing was hitting it. It actually,” and here Sir James choked with laughter, “… it actually circled round once or twice
and then side-slipped down onto de Charillon’s shoulder — and stayed there!”

“And then what happened?”

“Well, dear Louis looked so absolutely thunderstruck at getting a grouse at last that everyone on the shoot just rolled around laughing. It was all Rothlan’s doing, of course, and Amgarad had a whale of a time acting the part later on in the evening. Talk about the Famous Grouse! You’ve never seen anything so funny in your life!”

“So diplomatic relations have been restored then, have they?”

“How right you are! De Charillon was the hero of the hour and as far as I know, Amgarad is now positively lording it at the French Consulate and the chef has been given strict instructions not to put him in the pot.

BOOK: The Wings of Ruksh
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