P ROLOGUE
K ING H UGO’S MASTER OF ARMS PAUSED AT the foot of the stairs. The faint noise of music and laughter could be heard from the Great Hall above.
Thank goodness Avantia is safe again,
he thought, smiling.
The master walked down the stone passage and stopped outside a heavy padded door, studded with brass nails. He pulled a slender golden key from his pocket and held it up. It shone in a ray of light that reached down from an air vent and pierced the gloom of the palace cellars.
The key turned smoothly in the lock. He pushed the door open and stepped into the arms room, closing the door behind him and locking it. As hedid so, a ferret poked its head out of his pocket and peered up at him with bright, curious eyes.
“There we are,” the master of arms murmured, stroking the ferret’s cream-colored fur. “Now no one can get in or out.”
The room was so narrow that if the man stretched out his arms, his fingers brushed the walls on either side. Torches blazed in iron holders, casting dancing shadows on the rough stone walls and a few stars shone faintly through the small windows at the top of the back wall.
In the center of the room stood a suit of golden armor. The helmet was dramatically molded into the shape of an eagle’s head. The tunic of golden chain mail was covered with a decorated breastplate that shone in the torchlight. Glittering leg armor, gauntlets, and sabatons — armored boots — completed the suit.
The master walked slowly around it, examining each piece with a small grunt of satisfaction. Hepulled out a handkerchief to rub a speck of dust from the gleaming breastplate.
“I’ve looked after this armor for twenty years,” he said. “When I first set eyes on it, it took my breath away. And do you know what?” He tickled the ferret’s ear. “It still does.”
The ferret let out a squeak.
“It’s the most precious relic in all of Avantia. We’ve got to keep every bit of it shining as brightly as the day it was made,” he went on. “Its rightful owner could return at any moment.” He passed the handkerchief over the smooth curve of the helmet. “We must be ready.” He bent down to polish the golden feet of the armor.
Suddenly, the ferret let out a squeal of alarm. Wriggling out of its master’s pocket, it dove for a crack in the wall and disappeared.
“Hey!” the man exclaimed. “What’s the matter with you?” He straightened up and tried to peer into the crack, but the dancing shadows cast by thetorches made it difficult to see. “Come back, you silly creature! There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
But as he spoke, the shadows began to move, slowly at first, and then with increasing speed. Soon, they were whirling across the walls and floor. He glanced at the torches, but the bright flames burned steadily.
Then something brushed the man’s cheek. He spun around at the velvety touch and stared wildly around the room. “These aren’t shadows,” he said out loud. “They’re bats!”
Suddenly, the air was full of black wings. Tiny claws scratched at his face and hands and tangled in his hair.
“No!” He let out a choking cry and beat desperately at the air, trying to drive the creatures back. But the swarming bats still kept coming. He stared in horror at their fierce faces, their eyes glittering with cruel delight.
The master of arms backed toward the door asmore bats squeezed themselves out of cracks in the wall and launched themselves toward him. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe.
Soon, the suit of golden armor was covered with bats, hanging from each piece by their hooked claws. With a gasp of horror, the master of arms started forward, but the pain was too much and he collapsed to the floor. Still he kept on struggling, trying with all his might to drag himself toward the precious armor.
“Stop!” he gasped. “Help! Somebody, help!”
But it was too late. Bats covered the man’s head and back, clinging to his hair and suffocating him with