Ligran scoffed at his brother. “Our wicked old sister’s the only one who can do that. Look at this.” Kneeling, he popped one of Dominic’s eyes open wider. The facemaker was still staring straight ahead in a trance. Ligran shrugged. “See, he doesn’t even know we’re here.” He let the lid drop.

  Rawth grabbed one of Ben’s arms. “Stop playin’ around an’ let’s get this one to Maguda.”

  Ligran helped his brother to lift the drugged boy; they bore him out of the cell and relocked it. Draping Ben’s arms about their shoulders, they towed him off down the corridor, his feet limply scraping the ground.

  The bear gave a low moan as they passed its cell. Ligran stopped briefly. He kicked the bars and snarled in at the wretched animal. “D’ye want me to go an’ get my whip? I’ll give ye somethin’ to moan about!”

  The creature fell silent, its sad, dark eyes dull and moist.

  The brothers halted at a cave that had a wooden door. It was unlocked. Rawth kicked it twice. The voice that came from within was that of their sister.

  “Bring him in.”

  The cave served as the armoury to the robber clan. Maguda Razan was seated on her litter, this balanced on four small kegs of gunpowder. There were other kegs stacked there, plus an array of flintlock muskets and rifles, pikes, spears and various odd-looking weapons piled against the walls.

  Maguda indicated a length of cord lying nearby. “Bind his hands behind and sit him on the floor.”

  Rawth performed the task, lowering Ben into a sitting position with his back propped against two casks of gunpowder. He and Ligran stood awaiting further orders.

  Maguda’s long nails rattled together as she shook a hand dismissively. “Begone now, both of ye. Come back with my litter bearers in an hour. Wait! Ligran, pour some of this into the lad.”

  Ligran took the goblet from his sister. He tilted Ben’s head back and trickled some of the potion between the boy’s lips. Ben swallowed and coughed.

  Maguda held up her hand. “Enough, that should bring him to his senses.”

  Rawth tried to sound helpful. “Do ye want us to stay around, in case he tries anything—”

  He wilted under Maguda’s scornful glance. “What need have I of fools? Get out, both o’ ye!”

  They retreated, closing the door behind them. Maguda peered closely at Ben. His head was lolling from side to side, and his lips were moving slightly. Slowly his eyes opened. He stared wildly around, a note of panic in his voice. “Where are my two friends—what have you done with them?”

  Maguda closed her eyes until they were mere slits. “Thy friends are still alive and locked up safe . . .”—she paused for effect—“. . . for the moment.”

  Ben attempted to sound reasonable, knowing he was in the presence of a wicked and vengeful enemy. “We mean you no harm . . . why are you keeping us prisoner like this? Please release my friends at least, let them go.”

  The old crone shook with silent mirth. “Brave young liar. Ye came here to rescue my grandson, but, alas, the Adamo that folk knew is gone. He is dead to me forever.”

  Ben sat up straighter. “He is dead?”

  Maguda pointed at herself. “Not by my hand, but by his own stubborn choosing. I will speak no more of him. Ye want me to grant freedom to thee and thy friends. I can do that, but on one condition that only ye can fulfil, boy.”

  Ben leaned forward eagerly, hope rising with him. “Tell me, what do you want me to do?”

  Maguda paused awhile, her fingernails tapping the litter. “I know thou art a strange boy, my omens told me so. Many things has thou seen in a great period of years, far longer than thy appearance can tell to ordinary folk. But I am Maguda Razan, no ordinary person. The thing is this: If I gazed deep into thine eyes, what would I behold, tell me?”

  Ben answered as truthfully as he could without giving away too much. “Marm, I have little control over what others see in my eyes. Maybe people see in them just what they wish to.”

  Maguda scoffed. “Fortunetellers and charlatans say such things to stupid peasants. Thy words do not fool me. I wish to see what thine eyes really hold. Fate, future, knowledge . . . whatever ’tis, I must know. But beware, if I see sights not unto my liking, ’twill go badly for thee, boy!”

  Ben knew it was a chance he had to take. All he could do was go along with Maguda’s request. He was afraid for himself, but more so for his two friends, and it was painfully obvious that Maguda was not one to make idle threats. He cast a swift glance at the evil old woman as she sat awaiting his decision. Some inner instinct told him that she was apprehensive. Usually she would be in her great cavern surrounded by guards. Why had she chosen to see him in private? Was she scared of what she would see in his eyes? Did she not want others to see her weakness? Was Maguda Razan really so powerful and invincible?

  Ben decided to take the chance and find out. “I hope what you see in my eyes is to your liking, marm. I’m ready for you to look into them.”

  Maguda faced him, closed her own eyes tightly and began muttering incantations in a weird ancient language. Her hands caressed a skull that was on the litter at her side.

  Ben sat, resigned to his fate, waiting for her to finish the strange ritual. Without any prior warning, images began invading his mind. He knew it could be nobody but Ned—the dog’s communication was so strong, it cut through everything. Ben could not push the images to the back of his mind.

  The eyes of Maguda Razan suddenly opened wide, staring at him, boring into his consciousness. She hissed as her hands rose like two long-taloned claws above her head. “Now we shall see. Look deep into mine eyes, boy, give thyself up to my powers!”

  Ben met her hypnotic gaze but was surprised to find that he felt nothing. It was merely like staring at an unpleasant old hag.

  He smiled at the recollections Ned was sending him.

  Maguda Razan blinked then, and her hands dropped slightly. “What is this foolishness? I see thee dancing about in some far forest, smiting thyself and leaping like a mad child. No, wait! I see the fair at Veron now . . . a stupid woman on a prancing horse, chased by a dog! Art thou making mock of me, boy? Dost thou think Maguda Razan is to be made fun of?”

  Ben had difficulty keeping a straight face, but he intoned dully, as if hypnotised, “Look deeper and you shall see.”

  He concentrated his thoughts upon the Flying Dutchman. In the teeth of a roaring hurricane off the coast of Tierra del Fuego, amid icy waves and tattered rigging, the face of Captain Vanderdecken appeared. Lank, salt-crusted hair framed the Dutchman’s accursed visage, bloodless lips bared from stained tombstone-like teeth, his eyes glittered insanely. Laughing madly, he paced the deck of the doomed vessel, hurling oaths and threats at all about him.

  Ben saw Maguda’s attitude change at the sight—she was enjoying it, extracting pleasure from the dreadful scene. Her tongue, snakelike, licked withered lips as she cackled, “He is truly the spawn of hellfire!”

  Ben hated calling up the visions, but if it would gain freedom for him and his friends, there was no alternative. Pain pounded his temples, lancing like a blade into his mind. He gave no rein to his thoughts, pouring the whole horrific experience out into Maguda’s ruthless, staring orbs. Mutiny, murder, quarrels, fights, all that had taken place on the high seas aboard the Flying Dutchman on that unspeakable voyage!

  Maguda Razan shuddered with delight—she was like a wayward child, giggling, simpering, her wrinkled tattooed face twitching as she received new sights. Wickedness, evil, strife and suffering were her very life’s blood—she revelled in unspeakable vileness. Now Ben had lost control of his thoughts, his brain felt as if it were at the bursting point. The cave seemed to sway and rock around him as the wild kaleidoscope of that long-ago, ill-fated voyage spewed forth unchecked.

  Maguda’s laughter echoed and re-echoed, building in its intensity.

  Then . . .

  Thunder and lightning crashed through the maelstrom of sound, silencing everything! Through the green light of St
. Elmo’s fire, exactly as it had happened all those years before, the angel of heaven descended! Maguda Razan went rigid. She gave out one unearthly shriek and fell stone-dead upon the litter. The sight of a being who radiated so much purity and beauty had stopped the heart of one who represented darkness and evil!

  Ben’s head slumped forward to rest upon his drawn-up knees. He felt drained but cleansed by the peacefulness and calm that surrounded him. Footsteps came pounding up the corridor outside, and the door burst open. Ligran and Rawth, with a crowd of henchmen, rushed in, followed by Gizal, the blind crone.

  Unable to restrain himself, Ligran strode to the litter and prodded at the stiff form stretched upon it. He recoiled instantly, his voice shrill with disbelief. “She’s dead . . . Maguda’s dead?”

  Rawth grabbed his sword and turned upon Ben, shouting, “You killed her!”

  He swung the blade at the boy, but Gizal’s staff struck his wrist, deflecting the swing. “Fools! Stay still until I find out what happened here!”

  The henchmen stepped aside as Gizal tap-tapped her way to the litter. She ran her hands over the body of Maguda, placing her fingers over the nose and mouth to check for breath. Taking a long pin from her hair, Gizal touched it to the pupil of Maguda’s eye—there was no feeling of movement. Gizal nodded. “She is dead!”

  The men in the cave gave a simultaneous gasp of shock. The blind woman pushed her way through to Ben, laying about at the dumbfounded men with her stick. “Make way, move!” Ben sat quite still and closed his eyes, trying to hide the revulsion he felt at being pawed over by the witch-like hag. Forcing wide his jaws, she sniffed at his open mouth. He winced as she tugged his hair, searching through it, her fingernails scratching as she probed around his ears. Then Gizal leaned upon his shoulder, bending him forward. Ben tried to hold his breath when her rancid-smelling garments enveloped his face whilst she inspected the cords that bound his hands behind his back.

  Satisfied, the blind woman stood up. “There be no marks or blood upon Maguda, yet she lies dead. This boy could not have slain her by mortal means—he is bound tight and could not have undone or retied the cord.”

  Ligran struck his fist against a powder keg. “But how—?”

  Gizal silenced him by holding up a hand. “Hearken to me. Only in two ways could yon lad have taken Maguda’s life: with his mouth or with his eyes. Either he could have spat poison at her or uttered some powerful spell, though I think not. Rawth, do ye recall when this one and his friends were first brought in front of thy sister? She had thee knock him down, saying she did not want him looking at her, eh?”

  Rawth stroked his beard. “Aye, that was as you say!”

  Gizal placed a hand upon Rawth’s arm. “Bind his eyes. Ye can gag him, too, for safety’s sake. Have him taken back to the cells.”

  Before Ben could protest, his mouth and eyes were bound with filthy strips of rag; then the henchmen picked him up and carried him off, leaving Gizal alone with the two Razan brothers.

  Ligran, the more hot tempered of the pair, paced the cave, shaking his head angrily. “That lad’s a danger to us all, Gizal. You should’ve let Rawth slay him. Here, I’ll go and do the job myself!”

  The blind woman’s staff blocked Ligran’s way as she lowered her voice, warning him, “Don’t let anger rule thy thinking, Ligran. If the lad did kill Maguda with his eyes, he must be even more powerful than she was. Thy sister ruled through fear. Without one as strong as she, our people would soon leave here and go their own ways, am I not right, Rawth?”

  The elder Razan nodded. “True, old one, but if the lad is as powerful as you think, how can we bend him to our service?”

  Ligran began warming to the idea. He smiled wickedly. “Through his two young friends—they are as close as brothers and sister. The boy would not wish them hurt, would he?”

  Gizal’s staff touched Ligran’s shoulder. “Now thou art showing good sense. Leave me to think now. First we will have a great ceremony to impress our people. Maguda must be installed in a suitable tomb before our new leader is made known to the Razan. That will be after the spirit of Maguda appears to us three and names the boy as her successor.”

  Rawth was puzzled for a moment. “Will she?”

  Ligran grinned. “She already has. Brother, did you hear her?”

  Rawth caught on then and laughed. “Oh, aye, I heard her. Pity all the Razan couldn’t, eh?”

  Gizal squeezed Rawth’s arm reassuringly. “Fear not, they will! At the right time. There be plenty of hidden places, and the great cavern carries lots of echoes. Leave it to old Gizal!”

  Having hatched their plan, the three departed from the armoury cave, leaving behind them the rigid corpse of the once all-powerful Maguda Razan. What Gizal, Ligran and Rawth had missed was the lesson their former leader had learned at the cost of her life: a surety that Good will triumph over Evil, always!

  26

  IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON OF THE FOLLOWING day. Arnela and Ned crouched behind a jumble of ice-sheened rocks. The ground in front of them was solidified soil, shale and patches of snow in a small escarpment, backed by the pristine white mountain peak.

  Arnela pointed, whispering to the dog, “See there, Ned, that’s the one and only entrance to the Razan caves. Just inside the rift, straight ahead.” The black Labrador focussed his gaze on the shadowed hole in the solid rock face, listening to the big goatherd woman. “Those red marks by the entrance, they look like old bloodstains from this distance. But they’re ancient pictures of cave dwellers hunting wild boar. I saw them once, some years ago, when I tracked some Razan villains here. Our friends will be imprisoned somewhere inside. Where, I’m not sure. I’ll wager there are many caves and passages inside. We’ll worry about that when we come to it. Our first job is to get inside. I’m sure there must be guards at the entrance. Let’s hide here and watch until we get a chance. Right?”

  Ned snuggled down, nodding his head to show he understood.

  After Ben was bundled roughly back into the cell, he lay still, listening to the henchmen locking the barred door and pacing off down the passage. Then he went to work. Still bound, his eyes taped, the boy rolled about until he bumped the rough, rocky wall. Backing onto it, he wriggled along until his tightly bound hands encountered a small ridge. Then he began sawing at the cord, rubbing it back and forth along the stone protuberance. It was slow, painful work, and his hands were cold, swollen and numb from the tightly lashed cord.

  “Ben, are you there, mate? It’s me, Ned! I’m with Arnela, watching the main entrance. As soon as we can sneak in we’ll try to rescue you. How are Karay and Dominic? Are they with you?”

  Relief flooded through Ben as he replied, “Good old Ned. I knew you’d come. And you’ve brought help, too! Great! Listen, pal, I’m a bit tied up at the moment, so I’ll make it brief. I’m locked in a cell, somewhere below the big main cavern. I think our friends might be here, if those Razan returned me to the same cell. I know that sounds a bit odd, but I’m bound, gagged and blindfolded. I’m working on getting free. As soon as I know where I am for sure, I’ll keep contacting you. So you and Arnela be extra careful, you’ll be no use to us if you get captured. These Razan are no fools—they know the inside of this mountain very well. I’ll speak to you later, take care now, d’you hear me?”

  Ned’s answer came through to Ben. “I hear you, mate. Let’s hope we can get to you before too long!”

  Ben had been sawing continuously whilst sending thoughts to the dog. Finally, he pulled, and the frayed cord snapped in two pieces. Using both thumbs, Ben pushed the gag up beneath his nose and levered the blindfold up until he could see a little. Then, with his teeth, the boy tore off the pieces of cord that were knotted tight about both his wrists. His numbed hands were useless for several minutes. He squeezed back tears, gasping as the blood flowed agonisingly back into his fingers. Finally, reaching behind his head, he untied both the gag and the blindfold.

  Dominic and Karay were there, sitting, leaning askew at oppo
site angles, their eyes wide open. Ben saw their twitching limbs and ashen faces. He knew they were still trapped within the realm of nightmare. Drugged! Ben decided to use Ned’s methods of getting through to them, combined with a little addition of his own. Both the porridge and the water were still there outside the cell’s bars. He filled the ladle with water, splashed it straight into Dominic’s face and began slapping the boy’s cheeks hard, shouting in his ear, “Come on, lazybones, rise and shine! Up you come!”

  Grabbing his friend beneath both armpits, Ben hauled him upright and gave his shin a smart kick.

  The facemaker winced sharply, his hands scrabbling at Ben’s face as he whimpered, “Yeeeegh! Get these snakes off me, I can’t stand sn—Ben?”

  Hugging his friend close, Ben whispered soothingly. “There there now, hush, Dom. It was all a bad dream, the snakes are gone. Keep your mind on good and happy things. They won’t bother you anymore then.”

  Dominic blinked tears from his eyes and rubbed his leg. “One of them bit me, Ben, a green cobra, right here by my knee. I think I’m going to die—it stings and pains. Oooohhhh!”

  Ben wiped the tears from Dominic’s eyes. “That wasn’t a snake, Dom, ’twas me. I gave you a good kick to wake you. Sorry about that, mate. We’d better get Karay back into the land of the living. Come on, lend a hand!”

  Dominic splashed water in the girl’s face. Ben slapped her cheeks and tugged sharply at her hair as he shouted, “Up and about, miss! Let’s see you dancing and singing, pal!”

  Karay screamed. She scratched and batted at Ben’s hands as they pulled her hair. “Eeeeee! Get away, you filthy crawly things! Ugh, spiders! Uuuuggghhh!”

  Ben’s face was a fraction from hers. The girl’s eyes were wide and pleading as she sobbed to him, “Kill the spiders, Ben. Don’t let them get me. Kill them!”

  It took an hour or more before Karay and Dominic were completely themselves, though they both complained of roaring headaches and some dizziness. Ben explained to them what had taken place. He told them about Maguda Razan’s death but had to lie about the visions she had seen in his eyes—he attributed her death to the fact that she was very ancient and must have had a weak heart.