Sacred Mountain

Chapter 12: Loska

The light was beginning to fade when Poppy and Petros finally entered the city of Loska.

Over the last hour, the scenery had changed as forests gave way to farmland and farmland to cobbled streets with houses, inns, cobblers, bakeries and blacksmiths all piled up on either side. No snow had fallen for a couple of days now and the road beneath the sled was ice beneath a layer of grey sludge. The sled seemed very empty now Annifer was gone and with no one to talk to, nervousness was gnawing away at Poppy's insides. She stared out of the window, eyes eagerly searching the passersby for a kind face, a smile, any sort of friendly gesture to lift her spirits but they huddled under their furs, going about their business with their eyes down and nobody seemed even to notice her.

The sight of Castle Loska gave her no comfort either. Its sombre grey stone turrets rose into the sky, dwarfing all the buildings around. A high wall topped with iron spikes surrounded it. It seemed to shout Keep out! Stay away! Don't come near! and at that moment Poppy wanted nothing more than to obey.

Petros pulled the sled to a halt in front of a tall wooden gate in the wall. There was a sentry box to one side of it. He jumped down and knocked on its door. 'Hello! Anyone there? The Princess Annifer of Frailing has arrived. Can someone open the gate and let her in?' No answer. He knocked again, harder this time. 'Hello, can somebody open the gate please?'

'There's obviously nobody in, Petros,' Poppy called out of the sled window. 'Let's find an inn to stay the night and come back in the morning.' She was eager to put off this charade as long as possible. Just as Petros gave in and turned to walk back to the carriage, the sentry box door swung open and a bent old man with long straggly grey hair and a beard shuffled out. He was wrapped in furs and carried a huge bunch of keys, the biggest of which was as long as Poppy's forearm.

'What's that yer say?' he shouted in a thick Crosstainian accent, scowling and cupping his ear.

'The princess of Frailing,' Petros spoke louder. The guard looked baffled.

'The pink dress is failing?' he bellowed into Petros' face, causing him to take a step back.

'No . . . er . . . the Princess Annifer'

'What? A pin chest and a fur?' Exasperated, Petros resorted to dumb show and mimed putting on a crown, pointed to the sled and then acted out putting the key in the lock and turning it. The guard continued scowling and looking at Petros as if he was a halfwit. Petros was about to lose patience and wrestle the keys from him, when the man rolled his eyes and lumbered off towards the gate muttering about the kinds of idiot he had to deal with every day.

*****

They drove through the gate into an enormous courtyard. On the ground patches of cobblestone showed through the trampled snow. In front of them loomed the imposing bulk of Castle Loska. Poppy cowered as she got the sudden impression that those great turrets and battlements might fall and crush her at any moment. The sound of the horses' hooves hitting the cobbles echoed in the silence as Petros drove them towards the castle's great arched entrance.

Where is everyone? Poppy thought. I'd have thought at least someone would have come out to meet us. Through the sled window she saw a gap in the courtyard wall, big enough to drive a sled through, which opened out into a huge arena with tiered seating on either side. The arena's ground had been covered with a fresh layer of sand and in the middle of it a thick wooden stake stood upright. Attached to the stake by a chain to a collar round its neck was a thickset black figure, bigger than a man. Poppy leant her forehead against the window, squinted her eyes and saw that it was a bear. It was shaking its head ferociously and clawing at the collar to try and get it off. Raising its face to the sky, it let out an agonized roar and Poppy's heart bled.