Placing Splash on top of her head, and with Chad holding onto her shoulders, Celeste swam after her. Next went Lem and Swift paddling from pylon to pylon.
They had all reached the central pylon when a shout of anger exploded above them.
`I know you're there. I can smell you. And I never forget a smell. You owe me a toll and when you get out, you'll pay it or I'll set my pigs upon you!'
They all glanced worriedly at each other.
`No good keeping silent you thieving robbers! Juicy dinners for my pigs, that's what you'll be!'
It was the fear in Swift's eyes that made up Lyla's mind. `We don't have anything to pay you with until we fetch it from Wartstoe Village. Then we can pay you double,' she shouted up at the toll master. `But if your pigs eat us you'll get nothing!'
The toll master and his four pigs leant over the bridge wall searching for them, but the children kept to the shadows.
`What will your double toll payment be?' he yelled.
`Whatever you choose!' Lyla yelled back.
His piggy eyes narrowed greedily. `Two casks of ale?'
`Two casks of ale it is. But you have to let us leave the river without your pigs harming us.'
There was a heavy silence and then the porcine-man began to laugh. He laughed so hard that the bridge shook and a shower of stones and mortar fell on top of the children's heads
Lem pushed Lyla and Celeste ahead of him. `Swim!' he urged.
Suddenly the toll master and his pigs spied them and the toll master's face turned puce with anger. `Just as I thought! Not a sack between you. How do you expect to trade for my ale?'
`We are information sellers,' yelled Lem, staring hard at the pigs.
`And what use be that?'
`It's very useful,' answered Lem, hoping to engage the toll master in conversation so that the others could escape. `For instance I know that your oldest pig has a decaying tooth that needs pulling. Your youngest pig has had a litter of nine female piglets and you wanted males. Your biggest pig bit you yesterday and your favourite beer is Du Lac Du Mont ale.'
The toll master's mouth dropped open in amazement. `How would you know all that?'
`I told you! We are information sellers.'
A sly look came over the toll master's piggy face. `Then answer me this and I will let you go unharmed. But if you get it wrong you must pay me four casks of ale. Agreed?'
`Agreed.'
`Who is the more powerful? The High Enchanter or General Tulga? Who gave me my magical talents and why? And who will punish me if I misuse them?'
Lem glanced at the pigs then he answered. `The High Enchanter is the most powerful. He gave you and your pigs the power to grow larger in return for your spying on the Royal Palace of M'dgassy. But it is General Tulga who will punish you if you misuse your powers. Now will you let us go?'
`I will, but if you rob me, I will find you. I never forget a smell!'
With the bridge behind them, Snake Tree Woods ahead and only one hour before sunset, the children hurried along the track hoping to catch up to the farmers.
`Do you want to know what else his pigs told me?' asked Lem, with a secretive grin on his face.
The others nodded.
`They said Abel Penny can turn himself into a pig that can gallop faster than a horse.'
`I don't believe that,' scoffed Chad.
`I do,' said Swift.
Lem's grin grew wider. `They also said that when General Tulga and his Raiders ravaged M'dgassy, that General Tulga carried away a black eagle chained to his left wrist.'
`A chained eagle,' gasped Lyla.
`Exactly.'
5
Snakes & Huntsmen
They were deep into Snake Tree woods when night fell. A whistling wind blew up making the snake-patterned trees sway, so that their sharp-tipped leaves made strange hissing sounds.
Suddenly a tree dipped so low that its branches brushed Lem's shoulder, stinging his neck. He swung around and saw a thin sapling fall between him and Lyla.
She jumped over it but the sapling rose up like snake, encircled her ankles and tripped her over. Celeste sliced at the tree with her sword. So this was why Bethy Bee had warned them not to travel through Snake Tree Woods at night. Celeste wished the woman had been more descriptive.
Celeste turned this way and that, hacking with her sword, as a third, fourth and fifth tree toppled and turned all snakey and slithered towards them.
`They're not trees at all!' gasped Lyla, as a branch snaked out, caught hold of her hair and lifted her off her feet. `They are snakes. Talk to them, Lem! Tell them we aren't their enemies.'
Lem cut the snaking branch in half and Lyla dropped to the ground. `I've tried. But they aren't real snakes!' he yelled.
`They aren't trees either,' Chad shouted, chopping at a snake that was winding itself around his legs. `So we can't talk to them either!'
Whack! Celeste's sword sliced at a branch twice the width of her arm. It turned on her in a flash and its hissing tongue struck her bag. She jumped aside, stabbed one of its glittering black eyes, and then the other as it half-blindly turned to attack Swift.
`Run,' yelled Lyla, `The bigger ones are falling now and we can't fight them.'
But running was impossible. They had to dodge or leap over the snakes that used their tails to trip or ensnare them, while slashing at the heads to avoid being stung or bitten. And all the while, more trees fell to the ground writhing to life as hissing, spitting snakes always slithering towards them.
They were soon totally surrounded and escape looked impossible until the blast of a hunting horn and the distant sound of galloping hooves created a stillness around them. Then all the snakes that weren't wounded morphed back into trees, leaving the rest to writhe.
`Hide,' yelled Lem.
With nowhere to hide but amongst the trees they'd just been fighting, the children bobbed down behind three of the largest trunks and peered carefully out.
Galloping towards them was a party of tall, red-haired Huntsmen, each one holding aloft a lantern that made their hair, moustaches and beards glow like flames. Each also carried a metal-tipped spear, aimed and ready to let loose.
The lantern light revealed that many of them wore eye-patches, and all had tattooed arms and large brass discs fitted into their earlobes.
Their chestnut horses looked equally as fierce and equally bizarre, with strings of knucklebones draped across their foreheads, rings piercing their nostrils, and their manes and tails dyed red. Neighing loudly the great animals showed no fear as they stomped on the writhing snakes.
`There is someone hunting for us,' shouted a giant of a man with frizzy red hair and bulging muscles. `Keep your eyes open. They may be worth more than the snakes.'
The children watched the Huntsmen kill the snakes that they had wounded, and tie the dismembered bodies across the rumps of their packhorses. Then they set to cutting more snake trees down. As their axes bit into the diamond-patterned bark the trees screamed in pain and fell to the ground where they were beheaded before they could wriggle away. When the packhorses were fully loaded, the lead Huntsman blew his horn and the rest flung their legs over their horses backs and rode off.
The children jogged after them, at a safe distance, while behind them the snake trees that had been spared by the Huntsmen began to fall onto the track and try to wriggle after them.