Аннотация: Это любительский перевод первой книги о Коте Саладине ("Загадочный замок")
SALADIN THE CAT
Written by Alexey Kavokin
Translated from Russian by David Parfitt
Poetry translated by Alexey and Kirill Kavokin
Chapter 1
On the edge of a dense forest stood the Mysterious Castle. The dark silhouettes of its towers were visible from the village at sunset, when the sky in the west became pink or yellow. At one time the castle had held sway over the whole plain, with a constant stream of merchants and warriors crossing its drawbridge, and above the main tower, known as the `keep', a white banner with a red cross fluttered proudly. It was said that the castle had belonged to the Templars - Crusader knights of the order of the Temple, the richest and most secretive order of knights in the Middle Ages.
Eight centuries had passed since the time of the Crusades and the castle had already stood empty for almost seven hundred years. Its inhabitants had disappeared without a trace, fleeing the persecutions of the evil king Philip the Fair. The king and his servants had ransacked the whole country in search of the legendary treasures of the Templars, but it was all in vain. The mystery of the order remained unsolved.
The old castle fell into disrepair. The knights' banners and tapestries rotted on the walls. Woodworm ruined the oak benches and tables. Only the enormous stone towers were unaffected by time. No one dared to pass beneath the gloomy arches of the knight's halls or climb the narrow stairs to the castle walls, let alone descend into the dark dungeons. At one time a group of treasure-seekers appeared in the village, a cheerful crowd who set off to explore the castle. Not one of them ever returned. "There are ghosts in the castle!" the villagers said and they became afraid to approach it. They called it the `Mysterious Castle' and the road to it became overgrown with thorn bushes.
In one of the cosy little houses in the village lived a boy called Robin. He had read many books about the Crusades, and decided that whatever it might take him, he would discover the secret of the Mysterious Castle. He was not afraid of ghosts and firmly resolved to find a way inside. He prepared for his expedition very thoroughly, searched for a suitable footpath through the forest, and studied the castle through a telescope.
And so one day Robin decided to set off for the castle. He took with him only a few boxes of matches, a couple of bacon sandwiches and his faithful cat Saladin, who accompanied Robin on all his travels and had helped him out of trouble on more than one occasion.
Robin's grandmother had named the cat `Saladin'. She had decided that the house needed a ferocious and fierce cat, the mere smell of which would strike fear into the heart of any mouse. His grandmother had searched her memory for all the most bloodthirsty villains in history, and had settled on the Sultan Saladin, the leader of the cruel Saracens and conqueror of the Holy Land. Saladin the Cat was very proud of his name. Even though, in truth, he was not particularly fierce, he was convinced that a heroic destiny awaited him, and that sooner or later he would go down in history. And so it turned out.
Having crossed the dried-up moat, Robin and Saladin cautiously approached the rickety oak gates of the castle. The gates were not locked. Saladin took a sniff and said that so far he could not smell anything suspicious. Then Robin pulled on a bronze ring that was set into one of the gates. With a scraping and then a crash the gates swung open. Robin and Saladin entered beneath the soot-covered arches of the castle and started to explore it.
They really liked the castle. There was nothing terrible about it. You just had to watch your step so as not to fall down a well, and avoid leaning against the rotten wooden handrail of the gallery. For the whole day Robin and Saladin investigated the Mysterious Castle. They went up narrow spiral staircases and squeezed between narrow doorways, pushed through a spider's web and stepped over somebody's bones. In the great tower they found an old pierced bronze shield with the head of a wild boar painted on it. In the attic they came across an old book in leather binding with silver fasteners. The letters in the book were like hooks, and Robin could not read any of it.
By evening Robin had gathered his treasures and was ready to set off home, but then he noticed that Saladin had got lost somewhere. "Saladin, where are you?" cried the frightened Robin. From somewhere below came a sorrowful `miaow'. Robin set off to look for him. Down and down he went on the crumbling stairs, striking a match to light the way. And then, in depth of the dungeon Robin discerned to something dark and bulky. It was a big oak chest, the corners of which were bound with bronze.
"Dear Saladin, where are you?" Robin asked plaintively. From the depths of the chest he heard a strange rumbling.
Robin tried to lift the lid of the chest, straining with all his might, but it would not budge. He looked around and noticed a rusty iron pickaxe in the corner of the dungeon. Robin shoved it under the lid of the chest and pushed down as hard as he could - the bronze hinges began to creak and the lid gave way! Out of the chest jumped Saladin, a little bit tousled but alive and well.
"It's not a chest, it's a trap for cats!" - he said angrily, smoothing his dishevelled whiskers.
"What were you doing there?" asked Robin, surprised.
"Nothing in particular!" exclaimed Saladin. "I was investigating this dungeon, discovered the open chest, glanced inside it just in case, and then the lid slammed shut!"
"You probably shut it yourself by accident", suggested Robin.
"I'm not that stupid!" said Saladin hurtfully. "I'm telling you, the lid slammed shut by itself, or else a ghost did it!"
Robin and Saladin looked around. The corners of the dungeon were hidden in darkness, but there was no sign of any ghosts.
"It wouldn't be such a bad idea to reinforce our strength after such an adventure!" said Saladin. "Do you still have the bacon sandwiches?"
Robin took out two sandwiches and gave one to Saladin. The Cat tucked into it with relish.
"So what did you find in the chest?" Robin asked.
"Something very interesting!" replied the Cat.
"What?!" Robin exclaimed, and glanced inside. After a minute he emerged from the chest and stretched disappointedly:
"You've got it all wrong, you silly Cat! There's nothing there except for a little silver coin, wedged in a crack..."
"We'll see who is the silly one!" said Saladin, and held a lighted match towards one of the sides of the chest.
In the flickering light of the dying match Robin could clearly make out a picture burnt into the oak wall of the chest: it showed two horsemen in armour, galloping along on a single horse!
"Templars!" breathed Robin.
"The seal of the Templars!" Saladin confirmed. "Two knights on one horse".
"But the chest is empty!" said Robin. "This means that someone has been here before us and carried away the treasure of the Templars!"
"We mustn't jump to any conclusions", said the wise Cat. "We'll go home now, and come back tomorrow with a good oil-lamp to investigate this dungeon properly".
Robin agreed with this plan and so they slowly started walking home. Back at the house, Grandma discovered that Robin had caught a slight cold and immediately made him put on some warm woollen socks and a waistcoat. Robin then drank a mug of tea and the Cat had some warm milk before both heading off to bed, and Grandma strictly forbade them from climbing around in any more damp cellars.
Robin had just got himself comfortable in bed and closed his eyes, when he suddenly heard a thunderous voice: "We are taking the path of Godfrey of Bouillon!!!"
Robin began to peer at the old dark map of the world that hung above his bed. At first he could not make out anything, but then out of the darkness indistinct figures began to appear - horsemen in long cloaks with crosses on them, infantrymen with heavy shields, sharp-pointed tents, a desert with mountains in the background...
"Where is the king??" someone shouted.
Robin saw a horseman on a frothing horse. He could hardly remain in the saddle. The helmet on his head was crumpled and a terrible hole gaped in his shield.
"What is it?" another responded. On his cloak Robin could make out dimly shining gold crosses.
"The Saracens are crossing Jordan!" croaked the knight who had just galloped up.
"To arms!" the king exclaimed. "All to the ford of St. Jacob! Templars, follow me!"
He spurred his horse and rushed off into the distance. The sullen knights tore after him in their cloaks with crosses. A cloud of dust obscured everything.
However much he peered, Robin could not make out anything more. He suddenly became very tired and did not notice himself fall asleep. When Saladin returned from his nighttime hunt he saw that Robin was sleeping sweetly, and lay down on the bed to settle down beside him. Suddenly something pricked the Cat's paw. Saladin was frightened and began to yell at the top of his voice.
Robin woke up and switched on the light.
"What is it?" he asked sleepily.
"Look", the Cat moaned, stretching out an injured paw. Robin looked at it and shuddered with surprise: a huge camel-thorn was sticking out of Saladin's paw!
"What was a camel doing here?" the Cat exclaimed.
Robin examined the camel-thorn for a long time, and finally said:
"You know, dear Cat, tonight I dreamed about the kingdom of Jerusalem. There was a desert, knights, camels... I think this thorn is from my dream!"
With these words Robin pulled out the thorn from Saladin's paw, and smeared the wound with antiseptic. The Cat immediately cheered up, rolled himself into a ball and began to mutter through his whiskers:
"It would have been better if you'd dreamed about a tasty side of bull or a roast duck..."
Chapter 2.
Next morning Robin and Saladin ate breakfast porridge with jam, before packing a large rucksack with a magnifying glass, oil-lamp, screwdriver, rope, crossbow and two bacon sandwiches. Robin shouldered the pack, the Cat fluffed up his whiskers, and they set off for the Mysterious Castle.
The chest awaited them in its familiar place in the dungeon. Its lid was open, and inside it was empty as before, except for the picture of the Templars and the small silver coin sticking out of a crack.
Robin and Saladin tried to lift the chest, but it was so heavy that they could not budge it.
"What a weight!" the Cat exclaimed. "And it's empty as well!"
Robin and the Cat sat down on the lid of the chest. Robin thought aloud:
"In an ancient book I read about special chests with a double bottom. Do you think the chest itself is empty, but actually under the base it has a secret compartment where treasure can be kept!"
"Pass me the screwdriver!" cried the Cat.
Robin pulled out a big screwdriver with a wooden handle from the rucksack and passed it to the Cat. The Cat dived into the chest, thrust the screwdriver into the crack and leaned on it with all his weight. The oak boards of the chest creaked but did not give way.
"Robin, would you mind leaning your back against the lid and helping me to press down on the screwdriver?" asked Saladin.
"All in good time!" said Robin strictly. "First we need to have a good look at the base of the chest".
He lifted the Cat out of the chest, climbed into it himself and set about examining the base inch by inch through the magnifying glass. The oak boards, which had turned black with age, were firmly fixed together by bronze nails. It seemed that even an axe would be no use against them.
Robin shifted his gaze to the seal of the Templars. The two knights were rushing somewhere on a horse. They had identical helmets, two shields and only one spear, which for some reason was not pointing forwards, but downwards, under the legs of the horse. Following its direction, Robin found that it pointed towards the small silver coin stuck in a crack between two boards.
Robin began to pull at the coin, and suddenly from the depths of the chest came a grinding sound like that of mill wheels turning, followed by wonderful ancient music. It seemed as though, in depth of the earth, silver handbells were ringing quietly and mournfully.
Then, the bottom of the chest suddenly dropped and Robin almost went with it. Luckily, at the last minute the Cat grabbed the rucksack with his claws. For a whole minute poor Robin was left hanging in the darkness, while Saladin mewed desperately above him, as it was very hard for him to hold the weight of the well-fed boy. Eventually, after much groping, Robin managed to find a ledge in the rock, hauled himself up to it and climbed out on to the side of the chest.
The Cat, with a plaintive groan, crawled up to him and fell silent, as though he had fainted. Robin had to scratch the Cat behind the ear and stroke him in order to bring him back to his senses. At last his whiskers began to twitch, he got unsteadily back to his feet and made a very sensible suggestion:
"Let's lower the oil-lamp into this hole using the rope and see what's down there!"
And so they did.
By the flickering light of the oil-lamp they could make out a huge vault, the edges of which were lost in darkness. The vault was so deep that the light of the lamp only just reached the bottom. What Robin and the Cat could see stunned them so much that Saladin began to purr with delight. At the bottom of the vault were scattered thousands, or maybe even tens of thousands, of gold coins. They sparkled and gleamed in the light of the lamp. They could also make out gold and silver vessels, and huge dishes and bowls, all decorated with emeralds. But the vault also contained the most amazing weapons and the finest armour that Robin and the Cat could have ever imagined. There were heavy two-handed swords and small daggers, halberds and crossbows, longbows and sharp javelins, swords and rapiers, shields with Maltese crosses and banners with embroidered lions and gold lilies.
Suddenly there was a terrible crash. The rope on which the oil-lamp hung had snapped. The lamp flew downwards, illuminating more precious and mysterious objects, before smashing against a mace and extinguishing.
Finding themselves in the complete darkness, Robin and the Cat sighed in surprise. Cautiously, trying not to catch themselves on anything, they crawled away from the chest and began to grope their way towards the exit. Luckily, Saladin was a night predator and could find his way in the dark. Robin kept hold of his tail and, both covered in dust, they finally crawled out into the light.
When they got back home, Grandma was cooking some tasty pancakes and she was so busy that she did not notice their dreadful state. Robin soon changed into some clean trousers and a fresh T-shirt, washed his hands and went to the kitchen to eat. Saladin followed him importantly. Grandmother passed Robin a plate of pancakes and a jar of jam. She was about to give the same to Saladin when she suddenly she noticed the dirt and cobwebs on his fur and whiskers. Grandma's face changed and she said in a strict voice:
"And you, you dirty Cat, have probably been rolling in the rubbish heap all day! Go and get washed immediately, and don't come to the table looking like that again!"
To show that she meant business Grandma picked up a broom. Saladin took great offence at this and left without a word, waving his tail defiantly.
After supper the sleepy Robin went off to bed. However, he had only just laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes when someone right next to him said in a hoarse whisper: "We are taking the path of Godfrey of Bouillon!!!"
Robin looked at the map hanging on the wall.
Through its dark patterns appeared the outlines of some sort of castle. Ladders were placed against its stonewalls, and soldiers in white turbans clambered up them. Others carrying bows were scattered around the castle and were firing thousands of arrows at its handful of defenders, who could be glimpsed fleetingly through the arrow-slits. The defenders were dressed in white cloaks with red Maltese crosses.
"Templars!" thought Robin.
Meanwhile, the Saracens, having surrounded the castle on all sides, were scrambling up the walls and a desperate battle was in full swing. The defenders of the castle were few in number, and though they fought bravely the Saracens captured one tower after another. Only the high octagonal keep still held out - the Saracens' ladders were too short to reach the top of it.
Suddenly Robin noticed a deep, dark cave not far from the castle, from which knights wrapped in cloaks were emerging one by one. Each soldier led a heavily laden horse behind him. The caravan of knights dissolved unnoticed into the darkness. Meanwhile, the Saracens' battering ram had already punched a hole in the wall of the impregnable keep. In this hole several knights in brilliant armour appeared. On the coat of arms of one of them Robin could make out gold crosses. The Saracens had surrounded them on all sides and a last desperate fight began. The knights set about the Saracens with their two-handed swords but the enemy were too numerous. Soon the companions of the king were killed and the king himself, having lost his sword, was forced to surrender and was taken prisoner.
"Look for the treasure of the Templars!" cried the Sultan, the leader of the Saracens.
"The treasure has vanished!" the Grand Vizier reported to him. "Somewhere here there is an underground passage that leads down to the sea!"
Robin saw the Saracens jump on their horses and waving their curved sabres, they tore off in the tracks of the Crusaders. He wanted to warn the knights about the danger but he could not as they were too far away. Their figures in hooded cloaks had dissolved into the shadows, and the Saracens were hidden by a cloud of dust thrown up by the hooves of their horses. Robin peered for a long time at the map, trying to make out something more. Finally his eyes closed and he fell asleep.
Next morning, Saladin, whose fur had been washed clean and combed using his tortoiseshell comb, strode importantly to breakfast and sat down in his place of honour. Grandma had made porridge with cream, which was a particular favourite of both Robin and Saladin. But there was no sign of Robin. The gong had already sounded three times but he did not appear. Saladin, grumbling with displeasure, went to Robin's room and discovered that he was still fast asleep.
Saladin snorted with indignation and, in order to wake Robin, howled in a deathly voice:
"All to the ford of St. Jacob!"
Robin woke up with a fright.
"Oh, it's you Cat" he said, rubbing his eyes. "What's up?"
"It's terrible and awful!" said the Cat peevishly. "You've slept all morning, and the treasure of the Templars has probably already been dug up by other treasure-seekers."
Robin quickly jumped out of bed, got dressed, cleaned his teeth, ate all his porridge and climbed up into the attic to fetch his rope ladder. The ladder lay neatly curled up in a roll next to a box of candles. Robin picked up both items and the Cat carefully prepared some bacon sandwiches. Once they were fully equipped they set out for the Mysterious Castle.
They reached the castle dungeon without any problems. Robin and the Cat tied the rope ladder securely to the lid of the chest and began to go down into the vault by the light of candles. The way down was not that easy, particularly as the ladder did not reach all the way down to the bottom.
"Saladin!" said Robin sternly. "I read somewhere that cats can jump from any height and always land on four paws".
"It's true!" said the Cat. "It's all in the tail. Cats can stabilise themselves very skilfully using their tail".
"Well, in that case, jump down from the last rung and tell me how far it is to the floor".
Saladin did not really want to jump, but he bravely went down to the last rung, fluffed up his tail, closed his eyes, and with a sad `miaow' launched himself off the ladder.
He did not have very far to fall. After only a second he had landed on some kind of gold dish on all four paws, as cats do.
"Everything's all right! It's fine to jump!" the Cat cried. Then Robin also hung on the last rung of the ladder, counted to three and dropped down. He fell on a rusty iron shield with a terrible noise. The sound echoed around the vault. Robin and the Cat were frozen with fear: maybe they had woken some kind of monster living in this cave. But all was quiet. Only a few bats began to flutter about below the ceiling.
Once they had calmed down, the treasure-seekers began to go from treasure to treasure, examining them by the light of the candles. The Cat particularly liked a gold sword-belt, whereas Robin chose for himself an elegant chainmail shirt and a thin but very sharp dagger with a little silver snake on the handle. The treasure was scattered randomly all over the floor.
"Well, dear Cat, we have to set to work putting these things in order!" said Robin.
"At least we should make a start", the Cat replied cheerfully. "Let's pile up all the gold bars in that dark corner with the spider's web, and we can sort the armour into rusted and unrusted, and then make a neat pile in another corner. Things will immediately look tidier and more spacious!"
"No, dear Cat", said Robin thoughtfully. "Surely you can see that such wonderful treasures don't belong in this gloomy cave? Spears and swords should be kept in the castle armoury or hung on the walls. Gold cups belong on that oak sideboard in the main hall. The dish you're sitting on is really meant for a sturgeon. Books in precious bindings belong in a scriptorium, and banners should flutter over the towers.
"But we would need a whole year to lift all these heavy things up and put them in their proper places", the Cat objected. "And besides, at night robbers would find their way into the castle and plunder everything. I would guard our treasures, but I can't deal with all the robbers on my own..."
Saladin was so upset at this thought that he almost began to cry.
"Don't worry dear Cat," said Robin soothingly. "I have a plan! To start with, you and I will just carry this small barrel", and he pointed to a rounded barrel, filled to the brim with gold doubloons. "With this money we'll employ servants and guards to guard our castle day and night. Then, we'll buy some old furniture and tapestries in an antique shop, and move from our house into the castle and start to get it into shape!"
"Yes", said Saladin enthusiastically, "we'll roast a side of a bull over the fire, drink milk from these silver goblets, play chess with ivory pieces while sitting in ancient oak armchairs by the fire..."
"We'll fill the moat with water", Robin went on, "and on top of the keep we'll set up a patrol post, and guards will peer at the horizon from morning till night to look out for enemies".
"And in the evening all the guards will sit at the long oak table in the hall, eat meat from huge pewter plates and tell interesting stories about the Crusades and battles with the Saracens!"
And so, Robin and the Cat tied a strong rope around the barrel, climbed up the rope ladder after placing a large wooden block under it, and began to haul the barrel up towards the ceiling.
"Oh, it's so heavy!" said the Cat, pulling on the rope with all his might.
"But then, there's enough gold here to pay for the guards and the antique furniture".
"The main thing is to employ some good cooks!" said Saladin. "I'll look after it myself and arrange an exam for cooks. They can roast me a duck and a side of bull, and we'll see who does the best job!"
It was late in the evening before the weary pair managed to roll the barrel full of gold back to their little house. When Grandma saw them she began to sigh and get upset:
"Where on earth have you been for so long? Have you got wet paws? And what's in this tub? Pickles?"
Then Saladin, with one blow of his paws, knocked out the bottom of the barrel, and onto the floor in front of Grandma poured a mountain of gold coins.
"We found some treasure and we're going to move into the castle!" said Robin.
At this point Grandma almost fainted, but the thoughtful Cat immediately gave her some smelling salts. Grandma sat in an armchair and slowly began to come to her senses, and Robin and the Cat ran around and fanned her with towels.
At last Grandmother came, and she asked how the castle was fixed for heating and hot water. Robin answered that it was possible to light a fire and heat up some water in the big copper cauldron. Grandma sighed, but then cheered up again when the conversation turned to the arrangement of furniture in the castle. It turned out that Robin and the Cat had not thought this over seriously, and they did not even have a plan of the castle. And when Robin could not say how many windows there were in the large banquet hall, Grandmother said resolutely:
"Tomorrow I'll go and take a look at your castle"
And with that, Grandmother sent Robin and Saladin off to bed and began to make some sandwiches, prepare a flask of tea and gather some things together: warm clothes, handkerchiefs, spare socks, and most importantly, a drawing board, ruler and set of pencils.
The next day Grandma woke up very early and cooked some porridge. Then she began to run here and there, packing and repacking various things, so that when Robin and Saladin woke up there were two plates of porridge waiting for them and three huge rucksacks.
Having eaten their fill, they all shouldered their rucksacks and set out on their way, and Grandma gave Robin a woolly hat and wrapped a warm scarf round the Cat. As they approached the castle, Grandma handed them a piece of chocolate each while she took out the drawing board and set to work.
First of all Grandma carefully measured the length of each wall of the castle. For this she had to use a special device called a `goat'. It consisted of two sticks with sharp ends, rigidly fastened in the form of a letter `V'. The distance between the ends of the sticks was exactly one metre. Using this, Grandma calculated the length of the southern wall of the castle to be 49 metres, the western wall - 36 metres, the northern wall - 64 metres, and the eastern wall - 25 metres. She carefully wrote down all these lengths, opened the drawing board and traced out the external contours of the castle on graph paper.
Then Grandma went inside and methodically went through the same procedure in every hall and corridor in the castle, starting in the guard's room on the keep and finishing in the vault with the treasure in it. Grandma did not actually go down into the vault, but Robin and Saladin had to make the measurements using the `goat'. The vault was irregularly shaped, and Robin and Saladin were only just able to measure its length (116 metres) and width (56 metres).
They spent the whole day working. Grandma carefully added all the data onto the plan of the castle, and eventually she had produced a detailed and exact plan of every floor. In the evening, sustained by sandwiches, they all sat on an oak bench in front of the fireplace and examined the plan.
"That's strange", said Grandma, "on the second floor of the East Tower there should be one more room, five metres by six. It's clear from the plan. But we haven't found an entrance to this room!"
"It's a phantom room!" exclaimed Saladin, and as if in reply, something began to thud in the depths of the castle.
"The room of the Templars!" said Robin.
When Grandma, Robin and the Cat got home it was already dark. Grandma quickly began to cook some pancakes, and Robin and the Cat settled into some comfortable armchairs and began to talk business.
"It would be nice to get into this mysterious room," said Robin.
"But you can see there's no entrance!" the Cat replied.
"Below the ceiling I saw a dormer window", said Robin.
"But a person can't crawl through there!" the Cat objected.
"A person can't, but a cat can!" declared Robin. "Especially if it's a brave, nimble and quick-witted cat".
Saladin understood that the role of a brave, nimble and quick-witted cat was intended for him, and plaintively began to mew.
"Oh, it's time for hunting!" he remembered suddenly. "And what's more, something is making my paws ache - what if I've got arthritis?"
The Cat left to go hunting, and Robin ate a plate of pancakes and went to bed. But no sooner had he closed his eyes when someone's voice thundered:
"We are taking the path of Godfrey of Bouillin!!!!!"
Robin saw in the patterns of the map some kind of procession. Soldiers passed by one by one. But their armours were pierced and chains bound their hands. On each side of the column of prisoners rode horsemen in white clothing with curved sabres. They watched the captured knights vigilantly, not allowing any of them to step out of line. At the head of the column walked a tall soldier in a dirty but still fine blue cloak, embroidered with golden crosses. He seemed more gloomy and unhappy than the rest.
"The king!" thought Robin.
On the horizon, the golden domes of churches and the high walls of a city could be seen. All the captives peered into the distance and, it seemed, wanted to find out what was happening in this city. But through the dusty clouds, which hung over the desert, it was difficult to make out anything.
Robin suddenly noticed that one of the clouds of dust was actually coming closer to the procession of captives. After a few minutes it became clear that it was a horseman riding at full speed. He was seated on a magnificent Arabian horse covered with a green body-cloth. On his belt sparkled a sabre, and behind his back hung a short bow and a quiver of arrows.
The horseman soon reached to the head of a column and cried out something in a hoarse voice. Robin could only make out:
"...The gates...Jerusalem!"
In the crowd of captives, groans and cries of despair could be heard. Many fell on their knees and began to tear at their clothes. The king stood, head bowed, and looked gloomily at his feet. The Saracen on the Arabian horse, without hurrying, approached the king and said to him with laughter:
"King Guido! Our master, the great Sultan Saladin, sent me to tell you that the sacred city of Jerusalem has opened its gates to the Sultan's army. The Sultan has ordered me to remove your chains and release you. Go where you wish, king without a kingdom!"
He waved to his servants and they removed the heavy chains from the king's hands and feet. At the same time, the Arab soldiers, cracking their whips, began to drive the crowd of Christian captives further along the dusty road. The king remained alone in the middle of the desert. He muffled himself up in his cloak and began to walk away from Jerusalem.
Chapter 3.
The next day, Robin, the Cat and Grandma each took a heavy purse with gold coins and went shopping in the narrow little streets of the nearby town to buy some things that they needed for the castle. They walked all day and became very tired, and they bought so much that they needed to hire a cart and two oxen to carry everything.
The first purchase was a huge copper cauldron. It was so big that Robin, Grandma and the Cat could have all squeezed inside it at the same time, but it was just the thing for the large castle fireplace. In the next shop the Cat found an ancient rusty spit. Many a bull must have been roasted on this spit, and one could only guess what feasts it had been used for. Meanwhile, Grandma bought some bronze clothes pegs for the washing, a broom with an oak handle and a little brush made from English yew.
"Cleaning comes first!" she said.
Robin went down into a gloomy cellar crammed with ancient furniture. The shopkeeper eyed him with suspicion from the corner at first, but began to smile when Robin took from his belt the purse tightly stuffed with gold coins. Robin bought a huge carved oak sideboard, a chest of drawers full of woodworm, and an immense oval table, which must have taken up half the shop. The owner promised to deliver everything to the castle the next day.
They also bought silver knives and forks, goblets with handles in the shape of wolves, ancient Venetian mirrors, heavy curtains and drapes, a portrait of Richard the Lionheart in a bronze frame, several candelabras and a jug for bones.
When everything had been loaded onto the cart, the Cat suddenly noticed a small door in the wall of an old tumbledown hovel. The door was slightly open, and the light of a candle could be seen inside. The Cat thrust his nose into the crack and saw an old woman who must have been at least a hundred years old in the depths of a cramped, dusty shop.
"What are you looking for, my little pussy-cat?" the old woman asked tenderly.
Saladin wanted to take offence that someone had called him a `pussy-cat', but decided that the old woman was too respectable, and that he was still too young a cat to take offence.
"I am interested in old things that may be useful in a castle, madam", he said.
"I have one very, very old thing," the old woman said, smiling artfully. "But you must know how to use it, and it is very expensive".
"What is it?" the curious Cat asked.
The old woman silently took a long thin horn, bent like a sabre, from out of a chest.
"It's a hunting horn!" the Cat guessed.
"Well done Saladin", the old woman praised. "Famous hunters and minstrels used to play this horn. But it has now been silent for four hundred years".
"What will happen if it is played?" the Cat asked.
"Who knows", the old woman said. "These sounds can wake many things..."
She became thoughtful, looking somewhere into the darkness. The Cat patiently waited, not daring to move a whisker.
"It costs thirty-three gold dinars!" the old woman suddenly said.
The Cat poured out all the money he had left in his purse onto the counter. Spreading the coins out into three piles, he found that he had exactly thirty-three dinars.
"It's a miracle!" thought the Cat.
But the old woman had already rolled up the horn in a silk scarf with images of Chinese fish on it.
When the Cat leapt out of the shop with the horn under his arm, Robin was running everywhere in search of him, Grandma was already seated on the cart waving a whip and the oxen were shifting from one foot to another. The Cat jumped onto the cart, slipped his purchase inside the copper cauldron and pretended that nothing had happened. When Grandma asked him where he had been, the Cat muttered something vague about mice and a cellar, but said nothing about a magic horn.
The next day they spent sorting out the castle. Grandma started cleaning in the morning. She worked her way methodically through the halls and corridors, brushing away a spider's web and a century of dust, and sweeping up bits of stone, pieces of old furniture and some gnawed bones, which were lying around on the floor. Meanwhile, Robin and the Cat gave orders to a group of men who had delivered the furniture that they had bought the day before. Wardrobes and chests were carried through the doors, or, in some cases, lifted on ropes through the windows. The greatest problem was the dining table, which Robin had ordered them to carry into the main hall. The table was so heavy that ten strong men could hardly move it. First came one oak leg through the entrance door of the hall, then another, then metre-by-metre the whole table was carried in, and finally the last two legs were dragged groaning through the door.
The Cat was also in the thick of things. He supervised the hanging of tapestries, ordering those with hunting scenes to be hung in the banqueting hall and those with images of battles in the armoury. The portrait of Richard the Lionheart took pride of place in Robin's room, and the ancient canvas representing the Supreme Chapter under the presidency of Jacques de Molay was hung in the Cat's study.
When the sideboards had been dragged in, Grandma stopped cleaning and began to arrange the silver on the shelves. Meanwhile, Robin and the Cat set about fixing the cauldron on a hook, set up the spit for roasting and lit the large fire.
That evening, tired from the day's work, they all gathered in the main hall. A fire blazed cheerfully in the fireplace and a side of bull, sent as a gift by the butcher from the next village, was roasting on the spit. The Cat had mixed some wine with milk, and was gulping it down with relish from a silver goblet. Suddenly Robin said:
"Dear Cat, do you think it's time for us to take a look at the closed room?"
Grandma remarked that it was better not to do this sort of thing at night, but Robin had already grabbed a torch and was on his way to the East Tower, where the mysterious opening in the wall led who knows where.
"Well, what now, dear Cat?" Robin asked.
The Cat mewed hoarsely and began to climb up the wall. After a minute he had disappeared through the opening, and only his tail was still visible.
"Well, what's there?" shouted Robin.
"Nothing!" replied the Cat, turning back. "Just an empty room with no windows!"
"Are you sure there's nothing in the room?" Robin exclaimed?
"I swear by my tail!" the Cat answered, and jumped down from the wall.
"But there's some kind of secret here", said Robin thoughtfully.
The Cat said nothing, but from his self-important look it was obvious that he had thought of something.
Outside it was already dark. Grandma had made up beds for Robin, the Cat and herself on huge bedsteads of seasoned elm in the large bedrooms on the first floor. On each bedstead were two feather mattresses and a dozen pillows. Robin once again made sure that all the doors were firmly shut, and the portcullis above the entrance were lowered, wished everyone good night and went to bed.
Saladin politely said goodnight to Robin and Grandma, retired to his bedroom and pretended to be asleep. But when everything was quiet in the castle, the Cat cautiously crawled out of bed and tiptoed into the great hall. He then took something from a secret place, silently crept into the East Tower and dived through the opening in the wall.
You have probably already guessed that the Cat had taken the hunting horn with him. In the empty room he cautiously unwrapped the silk scarf, took out the horn and put it to his lips. The Cat had never played a hunting horn before and was a little afraid. After a moment he cautiously blew into the horn. A soft, pleasant sound was heard, which reminded the Cat of a mighty forest of oak trees with horsemen in armour pursuing game over a carpet of fallen leaves. The Cat was about to blow again, when suddenly the room was filled with sounds and voices.
It was the neighing of horses and the barking of dogs, the clang of metal and the sound of coarse laughter, the clatter of hooves and the creak of a saddle. Then someone's voice was heard:
"The king is free!"
"Yes, but he has no army and no kingdom!" another voice answered.
"After a year the armies of two kingdoms and an empire will come to his aid!" said the first voice.
"But Saladin is invincible", the second responded sadly. "He has the impregnable Acre and holy Jerusalem, he has scattered the king's army like sawdust, he has taken prisoner the Grand Master of the Order and captured the Treasure of the Order..."
"No!" interrupted the first. "The Saracens do not have the Treasure of the Order! The knights have taken it by a secret track to a cave in the Pilgrim's Castle, and now the Treasure is already hidden in a safe place. The day will come when it will serve a new Crusade, such that will break the power of the Saracens and return the Holy City to the Christians".
The voices became quieter and finally fell silent. The Cat listened, holding his breath. He then quickly wrapped his horn in the silk scarf and rushed back through the castle without looking where he has heading, knocking over one of the bronze candelabras on the way and nearly waking up Grandma. The Cat rushed into his bedroom, dived under a blanket, curled himself up, and only there was he able to calm himself down.
Next morning Grandma woke up first. She went down into the hall, lit a fire and began to fry some tasty bacon and eggs in a huge iron frying pan. Soon their wonderful smell had spread through the whole castle and woke Robin and the Cat.
The morning routine started. With a creak the drawbridge was lowered. Robin and the Cat raised their own banner on the roof of the keep, with the image of an eagle owl sitting on the handle of a sword and the motto "Wisdom and strength". They began to carefully lift a wonderful array of weapons from the vault, and spread them out on a rug in the armoury. From the surrounding villages came a number of sturdy young men who were keen to be guards. The Cat assembled them in the castle courtyard, looked them over thoroughly and sent them down into the cellar to find some armour.
Grandma watched in terror as the two new parlour maids began to clean the silver, singing folk songs while they worked. Robin, accompanied by the new butler called Boumberg, was busy planning the wine cellar and sorting the wine according to its variety and age. The Cat had discovered several jars of rat poison in one of the sideboards and hid them from the parlour maids. The tubby cook Tian Aubergine, who had previously worked in the well-known French restaurant "Trois Gros", had finally arranged the larder, and he was preparing a wild duck, while winking good-naturedly at Grandma and whistling to himself.
The castle had settled down to a peaceful and measured life, and nobody could imagine what terrible ordeals awaited its inhabitants...
Chapter 4.
Vast hordes of ferocious Saracens were approaching the Mysterious Castle with their green banners held high. Across the plain, which could be seen from the top of the keep, horsemen in black turbans galloped on swift-footed Arabian horses. Each of them was armed with a curved sabre and a short bow. After the cavalry came the camels, striding majestically and each covered with a precious Karabakh carpet. On the camels sat calm drovers with long whips. Further in the distance plodded Indian elephants carrying wooden turrets with battlements and arrow-slits, through which the fierce faces of archers could be seen. Then came the heavy infantry, each soldier lugging a huge rectangular shield with a spike in the centre. The hot sun had scorched the faces of the Saracens. The soldiers silently stood aside while one of the Sultan's viziers flew past in magnificent armour and a robe embroidered with a half moon. And detached from the rest of the army, surrounded by a hundred black bodyguards naked to the waist and armed with razor-sharp sabres, rode the cruel and enigmatic Sultan Saladin. From time to time a gloomy smile played across his tight lips, and this was enough to freeze the heart of even his North African bodyguards.
That same morning, back in the castle, no one could have imagined that the Saracens, elephants or the crafty Sultan were nearby. Robin, the Cat and Grandma had gathered for breakfast as usual, which was served in a room under the South Tower. Tian Aubergine had prepared some wonderful porridge with cream, honey and strawberries.
Having well and truly gorged himself on the porridge, the Cat began to purr contentedly. Grandma scratched him behind the ear, but Robin said unexpectedly:
"Our Cat hasn't been much use lately".
"What do you mean, not much use?" cried the mortally offended Cat.
"Well", said Robin, "you don't catch mice, you don't look for treasure. You're more like a lazy seal than a cat".
Poor Saladin lost his breath after such a statement. For a while he was unable to say anything, and he just snuffled loudly and quivered his whiskers. At last he uttered:
"You have caused me mortal offence which can only be washed off with blood. In deep grief I leave this house, where they do not know the feeling of gratitude, where rudeness triumphs but true virtue is exposed to desecration. And hence nobody will ever learn the Great Secret of Saladin the Cat!"
Robin was frightened. He had not expected the Cat to take such serious offence. Would the Cat really leave so suddenly?
"Dear Cat, why have you flown into such a rage? You're not really like a seal. Except for your whiskers. In fact, you're a handsome Cat in the prime of life!"
"I'm leaving!" said the Cat, unappeased. "Tell the parlour maid to pack my suitcase. I won't take anything with me, except for two hard crackers and a slice of bacon!"
"Dear, dear Cat! Stay! We've got a wild boar on the spit for dinner tonight!"
"Eat it yourselves!"
"And cranberry sauce!" insisted Robin.
"I'm leaving!" said the Cat stubbornly.
"And oysters!"
"No!"
"We'll order in an Astrakhan sturgeon, three and a half pounds in weight!"
"Very well then," the Cat agreed, and they all breathed a sigh of relief.
"So my dear Cat, what was that about a Great Secret?" asked Robin, over a dessert of pancakes with cream and raspberry jam in honour of Saladin.
"I can't share this terrible secret with anyone!" said the Cat importantly.
"Probably because there is no secret", Grandma suggested.
The Cat again sniffed and said:
"I'll show you that Saladin always speaks the truth!"
He ran into his bedroom and came back carrying something wrapped up in a silk scarf. Looking triumphantly at Robin and Grandma, the Cat unwrapped the scarf and showed them the hunting horn.
Robin groaned in disappointment:
"It's just some kind of trumpet..."
But Grandma had unexpectedly become interested in the horn. She wiped it with her napkin and carefully carried it to the window.
"Once upon a time I studied the hunting horn at the Royal College of Music!" Grandma explained.
The Cat and Robin begged her to play something. Grandma refused at first, but then she drew her breath and began to play a wonderful ballad:
Old battlefields now are hidden by sands.
Old parchments are eaten by rats.
The Templars have left their castles and lands.
Beheaders have cut their heads.
They all disappeared, the last and the first,
In England, in France, and in Spain.
The Treasure is hidden, the Secret is lost,
Just silent stones remain.
The Templars were warriors, noble and great,
And enemies knew it quite well.
They fought with a glory in every Crusade,
But lost their souls to Hell!
Once upon a time, they have found a gold,
They thought, it was given by God.
This wonderful metal uneasy to hold
Is dangerous more than a sword.
They kept it in secret, they spent just a bit,
Aware if what wealth might bring,
The put gold in coffers. But King was in need:
It happens sometimes to a king...
Robin and the Cat listened to the ballad, completely absorbed by what they heard. The horn told of bloody fights and sieges of castles, noble knights and an evil King, Philip the Fair. Finally, the last verse was heard:
"Your Majesty, Templars are proud to die!"
The Master's was only reply.
King smiled, and the crowd continued to cry.
The fire went high to the sky...
Grandma finished playing, and the last sound of the horn gave way to a deep and solemn silence in the castle. Robin and the Cat sat without moving. Suddenly the Cat pricked up his ears. And then the others heard it as well: from somewhere in the depths of the castle the hunting horn was being answered by the sounds of a great battle horn!
"Quick, to the East Tower!" cried Robin.
They all ran to the East Tower. From the opening in the wall came the inviting sounds of a horn. Grandma and Robin pulled up a big oak bench, climbed onto it and glanced out through the opening. The Cat sat on Grandma's shoulder.
At first they could see nothing because of a dense cloud of dust hanging in the air of the secret room. Then, through the dust they made out a group of horsemen rushing across a sandy plain. One of them was wearing a torn cloak, embroidered with gold double-crosses, and blew a horn from time to time, as if calling for help. The horses were foaming at the mouth and galloped heavily, and the horsemen continually looked back over their shoulders.
"Quick, under the walls of Acre!" one of horsemen cried. "Richard should be waiting for us!" he said, turning once more, and spurring his horse on.
Behind them, in the distance, another cloud of dust loomed. When the king and his deputies had passed Robin, Grandma and the Cat, this second cloud came nearer. Arabian horses flashed by, sweat pouring from them as they galloped furiously. Several grim soldiers in black turbans flew by in pursuit of the king. After them came a group of fearsome North Africans, naked to the waist and armed with sabres shaped like half moons. And in the centre of this group was the Sultan Saladin. His turban was decorated with diamonds and a long black beard hung down to his waist. Watching attentively from beneath his bushy black eyebrows he made his way across the desert. Suddenly his gaze fell on Robin, Grandma and Saladin the Cat. A devilish smile flickered across the Sultan's face. He spurred his horse and rushed towards the tower.
Robin and Grandma immediately jumped off the bench and fled. But the Cat stayed sitting by the opening. He looked at the terrible Sultan as if hypnotised, and he was unable to move. In his paws he gripped the horn.
"Jump down! Save yourself!" cried Grandma to the Cat.
"Guards, help him!" called Robin.
The Cat heard nothing. Sultan Saladin and his deputies came closer to the opening.
"Where is the treasure of the Templars??" growled Sultan Saladin.
"In the Mysterious Castle!" the poor Cat babbled. At the same moment Robin crossed a room in a single jump and pulled the Cat off the ledge by his tail. The Cat tumbled down, turned over in mid-air and landed on all four paws. The hunting horn fell down inside the secret room. The opening became clouded with black smoke. Robin, the Cat and Grandma ran out of the tower, and after them came the infernal laughter of Sultan Saladin.
After a few minutes the guards, under Robin's orders, barricaded the entrance to the East Tower with two heavy oak sideboards. Grandma went to the pantry to fetch some smelling salts, and Robin and the Cat settled themselves in some old armchairs in Robin's study and began to discuss what had happened. No more sounds were heard from the East Tower.
"What do you think, will they return?" asked Saladin the Cat.
"More than likely", said Robin. "You see, they now know where the Treasure is kept".
"But surely the phantoms can't leave the secret room?" said the Cat hopefully.
"Now they have the hunting horn anything could happen".
Poor Saladin the Cat fell silent, ashamed at what he had done.
"Perhaps we could read a spell..." he began to say uncertainly after a while.
"What spell?"
"A spell against phantoms. I'm sure there was one in the old book we found when we first came to the castle".
"You're right!" Robin said delightedly. "I'd completely forgotten about that book! But where is it?"
"In my room!" said the Cat proudly.
He led Robin into his study and solemnly removed from the old book in leather binding with silver fasteners from a shelf.
"It's impossible to understand, the letters just look like hooks!" said Robin.
"Look at it in the light!" the Cat advised.
They fetched a candlestick, opened the book wide and looked in the light at one of parchment pages. The hooks on the front and rear of the page combined into letters written in a beautiful Gothic script.
"Dear Cat, when on earth did you discover this?" exclaimed Robin.
"When I was sitting in my room without any use, like some kind of seal!" the quarrelsome Cat replied.
"Well don't worry, you're certainly not a seal. In fact, you're a very wise cat!" Robin consoled him. "Let's see what the book says about phantoms".
They leafed through the book and found what they were looking for. The text said:
"If in your keep a spirit stirs
And breaks your domestic peace
Then quickly make the pentagram
That would of course force him to cease
And fade away like morning mist.
Say:
Lhasa! Djerba! Kathmandu!
But be aware before you do,
That even if you don't intend
Put off all spirits of your land
They will besiege you at the end!"
"I'm not sure what to do for the best", said Robin. "Do we drive the phantoms out of the tower and endure a siege, or just block up the entrance to the East Tower and hope that they will not get out..."
At this very moment there was a knock at the door of the Cat's study.
"Come in!" said Robin.
The door opened and on the threshold the butler Boumberg appeared. He was clearly frightened.
"Your Grace, there is some kind of hissing sound coming from the East Tower, and there are sparks flying out from under the door. The guards are worried".
"It's hellfire!" cried Robin. "The Saracens' favourite invention. Dear Saladin, draw the pentagram quickly before they set fire to the whole castle!"
The Cat grabbed an inkwell and a quill and drew a rough pentagram on the floor. Robin took a breath and uttered:
"Lhasa! Djerba! Kathmandu!"
At the same moment the castle began to shake, the fire in the large fireplace went out. Then, some kind of small black tornado flew around the halls, out of an open window in Grandma's room and melted away into the sky beyond the hill.
Poor Tian Aubergine had to relight the fire in the fireplace and to blow off the soot from the wild boar that had been roasting on the spit.
In the meantime, Robin and the Cat prepared the castle for a siege. The Cat struck the gong three times and Robin ordered loudly:
"To arms! Raise the drawbridge! Load the crossbows! Boil up the pitch!"
The guards rushed to carry out their orders, and Robin and the Cat went to the armoury to choose armour for themselves and Grandma.
And so it happened that the Mysterious Castle was besieged by the whole army of the Saracens.
Chapter 5
Saladin the Cat had dressed himself in the armour of a Neapolitan prince. The armour was rather too large for him, but he nevertheless made an impressive sight. From head to toe he was covered with chainmail that shone like fish scales and this was encircled by a wide leather belt with a gold buckle. On the belt hung a thin dagger with a snake on the handle, the very same dagger that Robin had discovered during their first descent into the vault. The Cat's head was covered by a heavy `cat's head' helmet with a visor and little holes for whiskers. The whole affair was crowned with a huge plume of peacock feathers.
The Cat stood on the top platform of the keep and surveyed the enemy forces through a telescope. His whiskers bristled and he looked fearsome. If Richard the Lionheart himself had seen the Cat at this moment he would have been pleased.
From time to time the Cat lowered the telescope and gave curt orders to the guards:
"Two more barrels of pitch to the southern wall! Cover the gate with damp bull skins! Tell the cook to bring the bull skins here! Who is guarding the western wall? Block up any unnecessary arrow-slits! Crossbowmen start to find your range!"
The crossbowmen fired several bolts, which fell short. The next volley managed to wound one of the camels in the leg and the unfortunate animal cried out with pain. The Saracen infantrymen immediately made a wall with their huge shields, in front of which stood archers. They let fly a cloud of arrows at the Cat, but fortunately the wind was blowing away from the castle and all the arrows fell into the moat.
The Cat contemptuously waved his tail, but nevertheless moved behind the castle battlement. And not a moment too soon, because the Saracens had been busies down in the valley, and now revealed a catapult as huge as a dragon. It took twenty North Africans to turn the winch that drew back the bowl of the catapult, and in this bowl lay a boulder three times the size of Saladin the Cat. At last, the vizier commanding the North Africans gave a sign, and the most senior of them took a hammer and struck out the oak wedge that held back the trigger mechanism of the catapult. Hundreds of ox tendons, stretched to their limit, contracted with a whistling sound. The bowl flew up over the heads of the North Africans in a huge arc and stopped. The boulder flew out of the bowl and was carried towards the castle accompanied by the wild cries of the Saracens.
The Cat hardly had time to tuck in his ears before the deadly missile flew by at great speed, caught one of the peacock feathers on his helmet and carried on past him. It fell far behind the castle in the woods, and as it fell it splintered a mighty hundred-year-old oak tree.
In the distance the North Africans began to rush about, loading their weapon with another boulder.
The Cat, having removed the rest of the feathers from his helmet, rushed headlong down the spiral staircase. He ran without stopping until he reached the lowest room of the castle, where there was the hole down into the vault. On the very edge of the open hatch sat Robin. In his hand he held a `bat' lantern and was peering closely at the curves of the stonewalls.
"Well how are things up there?" asked Robin.
"Awful!!!" the Cat exclaimed. "The Saracens will soon smash our castle into little pieces! They've brought a catapult with them!"
"I'm sure we'll soon see their siege towers and battering ram as well", said Robin.
"What can we do then?" the Cat asked plaintively.
"First, go and check whether Grandma has fainted. If she has, make her a compress of vinegar, and if she hasn't, ask her to come down here. We need an architectural consultation".
"And who'll supervise the defence if I go and look for Grandma?" said the Cat in surprise.
"Hand everything over to Boumberg, he looks quite fearsome".
Robin clearly had a plan, so the Cat went in search of Grandma and found her in the kitchen washing dishes. She was wearing chainmail that Robin had chosen for her because of the siege. On top of the chainmail was an apron.
"Has anyone fainted?" the Cat asked.
"Yes!" Grandma replied, and pointed to the two parlour maids, one of which was lying on a Turkish sofa and the other on a rug. Both were groaning softly.
"We need to make a vinegar compress!" the Cat exclaimed, and he seized a towel and a bottle of vinegar to help bring round the unfortunate parlour maids.
At that moment there was a terrible roar and the castle shook to its foundations. A missile from the catapult had struck the North Tower. It had smashed a hole in the wall, shattered a yew sideboard filled with porcelain plates and lodged in the fireplace. Two guards, who had been sitting by the fireplace and playing chess, had escaped with just a few scratches but were frightened to death.
The Cat climbed the staircase into the destroyed tower, reassured the guards with a few words in a hoarse and courageous voice, and then took his telescope and looked out through the hole in the wall. In the narrow field of view he could make out a black turban decorated with diamonds. The Cat lowered the telescope a little and saw the face of the black-bearded Sultan with hooked nose and bushy eyebrows. Suddenly his lips curled into a devilish smile and his eyes bored into the poor Cat with a penetrating stare.
"Saladin!" exclaimed the Cat and dropped the telescope.
Grandma, who had followed the Cat, helped him to a sofa and unfastened his helmet.
"Shall I make a vinegar compress?" she suggested.
"No!" said the Cat sternly. "Robin is waiting below, and he needs an architectural consultation. And I'll stay here to supervise the defence, just give me a drink of milk with a couple of drops of old port in it!"
Grandmother armed herself with her drawing board and began to descend the stairs. She left the Cat in the hands of the cook Tian Aubergine, who mixed him a drink of milk and port in a great silver goblet. At this moment a third missile from the catapult slammed into the base of the east wall, the castle shuddered, and the poor Cat spilled part of his drink all over Grandma's sofa. Unruffled, he downed the rest of the drink in one gulp and thundered at the guards:
"To the walls!! Where have you been hiding you lazy bunch? Bag me a couple of Saracens!"
The guards ran off, and even the butler Boumberg picked up a crossbow as he used to be the best shot in the class when he was at school.
In the meantime, Grandma had gone down into the cellar and found Robin wandering around with a lantern amongst the hams and barrels of olive oil. Robin was very pleased to see her and said:
"Grandma, is it possible to find out where our water comes from in the castle?"
"That is a very interesting question", said Grandma. "As shown on the plan, the water enters the kitchen and bathrooms through pipes laid inside the walls. Fortunately they were in good condition, but I still had to flush them out with disinfectant".
"And where do the pipes come from?"
"From the water tower, of course, which is also the South Tower of the castle, the second highest".
"And how does the water get into the water tower?"
Grandma opened the drawing board and thought for a while.
"It seems that the water enters through the main pipe, which passes under the armoury, the library, the fencing hall and the stables. Under the stables the pipe turns downwards and passes into a well shaft that is shown on one of the old plans. Over the last week I have carried out an analysis of the ground by the stable wall, and the results have confirmed the presence of a well not far away".
"So what forces water to follow such a twisting and complicated path?" asked Robin.
"Well", Grandma said, "it is a common phenomenon, where subsoil waters come to the surface under the pressure of tectonic layers..."
"That's right!" exclaimed Robin with pleasure. "And it will allow us to make a water cannon! Or, to be more precise, a tectonic cannon!!"
Unfortunately Grandma did not understand cannons very well, and so Robin had to explain his plan to her in detail:
"The water moves along pipes into the water tower under enormous pressure. This means that if we block the path of the water it will look for another path. And so we'll send it into the barrel of a tectonic cannon and force it to push huge stone balls!"
"But where is this cannon?" said Grandma without understanding.
"That is the question! If I came up with the idea of a cannon, it means that the Templars who built the Mysterious Castle probably also thought of it! This is what first made me search for a cannon, and look what I have found!"
Robin lit his lantern and Grandma saw a steep chute hewn out of the rock, in which lay a row of ten stone balls, each three times the size of Saladin the Cat.
In the meantime the missiles from the catapult slowly but surely inflicted more and more damage on the Mysterious Castle. The elegant balcony on the northern side of the keep, where only the day before Robin and the Cat had drunk hot chocolate and chatted about sailing, had already been transformed into a heap of rubble. One of boulders brought down the flag with the image of an eagle owl sitting on the handle of a sword, but the brave guards soon raised it again.
The Saracens had also sustained losses from the sharp shooting of the crossbowmen. The butler Boumberg especially distinguished himself. He had selected a Spanish crossbow of the finest workmanship. It was large but light, and in its crosshairs Boumberg caught one after another of the North Africans working near the catapult. As a result of his sharp shooting three of them had already been hit by the short crossbow bolts. It was becoming ever more dangerous to load the catapult, and in their haste the Saracens had missed their target twice.
At this moment, four horsemen in black turbans separated from the group. They galloped off along different sides of the valley, shouting something loudly in Arabic. The Saracens formed themselves into several columns and suddenly rushed towards the Mysterious Castle, carrying their assault ladders above their heads. After them came the fearsome Indian elephants dragging siege towers on wooden wheels. Camels galloped towards the castle gates pulling an enormous cart, on which lay a battering ram made of three hundred year old Lebanese cedar and crowned with a ram's head made from copper and weighing four hundred pounds. The storm had begun!
The Saracens laid their ladders across the moat and scrambled over it, paying no attention to the bolts from the crossbowmen. Then, with the same speed, they placed the ladders against the walls of the castle and began to clamber up them. They were led by the fiercest soldiers armed with sabres.
The defenders of the castle met this attack in a calm and organised manner. Cauldrons of boiling tar were poured onto the heads of the Saracens gathered beneath the castle walls. The ladders were pushed away from the walls using boat hooks, and the Saracens hanging on them were pierced with long spears. The crossbowmen fired one bolt after another from the arrow-slits. Even tubby Tian Aubergine climbed up onto the wall armed with a spit. On his head was a large copper helmet, which looked suspiciously like a cauldron.
At this very moment one of the Saracens managed to reach the top of the wall. Swinging a sabre above his head he threw himself at Tian Aubergine, but the cook calmly pierced him with the spit like a Christmas goose. With a terrible cry the unfortunate Saracen fell down onto the heads of his furious comrades.
For a time it seemed that the Saracens' attack had misfired. Their forces rushed back from the walls in disarray. At this moment, Saladin the Cat appeared beside the castle banner in magnificent armour and the `cat's head' helmet, decorated with new ostrich feathers. He raised his dagger above his head and proclaimed:
"Victory is ours!!"
"Allahu akbar!" cried the Saracens in response and rushed forward in a new assault.
This time they decided to put their siege towers and battering ram into action. The towers came nearer to the edge of the moat, and archers standing on their upper platforms began to shower the defenders of the castle with clouds of arrows. There was no place to hide from the arrows as the siege towers were higher than the walls of the castle. Several dozen soldiers in black turbans swung the heavy battering ram with the ram's head and struck the gate of the castle. The gate began to crack. Even the stretched bull skins that the Cat had ordered to be used did not help to soften the impact. At this moment wooden bridges were thrown onto the walls of the castle from every siege tower, and Saladin's soldiers scrambled across them to attack. The butler Boumberg lowered his crossbow and raised his hands. The Saracens seized him and dragged him onto one of the siege towers. The remaining defenders of the castle tried to repel the attack as best they could, but they were outnumbered.
Saladin the Cat watched the unfolding battle with horror. He said to himself:
"At the most dangerous moment I shall dash into the thick of the battle and perish with a sword in my hands, as a noble cat should".
Then he thought a little and added:
"But then who will save Robin and Grandma?"
And after a little more thought he decided:
"My duty instructs me not to look for an easy death in battle, but to face up to life's difficulties!"
With these words the brave Cat ran as fast as his legs would carry him down the staircase and tore into the cellar at the very moment when Robin and Grandma had almost set up the tectonic cannon.
"Help us dear Cat!" cried Robin. He was completely unable to turn the wheel which changed the firing angle of the cannon as it was rusted with age. The Cat leaned on the wheel and it moved a half-turn with a creak, thus changing the barrel of the cannon to an angle of thirty-five degrees. Grandma had used some ballistic tables and her drawing board to calculate that this was just the right angle.
"Load the cannon!" Robin ordered.
Grandma pulled a chain that hung down from the ceiling. There was some kind of movement inside the wall, and the murmur of water in the pipe was replaced by a muffled rumble - the water's normal route into the water tower had been cut off.
"Fire!" cried Robin. He pulled on a long iron lever, a stone ball was set in motion and it dropped down a steep chute. And meanwhile, down below, water was already gushing furiously along the barrel of the cannon.
The crafty Sultan Saladin was sitting in his tent and drinking green tea from a bowl. In front of him stood a gold dish filled with sherbet and Turkish delight. At the entrance to his tent two North Africans stood with bared sabres and watched the Sultan in motionless silence. Suddenly, a stone ball punched through the wall of the tent. It sent pillows flying in all directions, turned over the dish of Turkish delight and flew between the two stunned guards, destroying everything in its path. Sultan Saladin calmly drank the rest of his tea and placed the bowl on the ground.
Chapter 6
Abandoning their black turbans and sabres, the Saracens fled from the walls of the Mysterious Castle. Elephants and camels rushed about in disarray, yelling wildly. On the ground lay the fragments of two siege towers, and the fearsome battering ram had been dropped in the moat, where it lay like a huge crocodile.
Robin, Grandma and the Cat stood by the arrow-slits and watched the rapid flight of the enemy. From the cellar came a crash and the terrible rumbling of water as the tectonic cannon fired one missile after another from its muzzle. There were scores of stone balls stored underground in special trenches leading to the cannon. These balls now flew with a singing sound from a hole in the wall of the castle in different directions, sweeping away everything in their path and striking terror into the Saracens.
At last the cannon exhausted its supply of missiles. The gears of some kind of mysterious mechanism began to grind in the depths of the castle, and water once again flowed peacefully along the pipes as if nothing had happened.
By now the frightened Saracens were already far away. Those of them who had kept their presence of mind had crowded around the Sultan's tent, but of the rest there was not a trace. Their gloomy master stood with arms folded and looked in silence at the Mysterious Castle. At last he said through his teeth:
"I shall take this castle, even if Godfrey of Boullion in person is defending it!!"
With these words he leaped onto his horse, struck it with his whip and galloped away like the wind.
And the inhabitants of the castle began to sort themselves out, help the injured guards and tidy up the rooms damaged during the assault. Grandma found some bottles of strange-looking liquid and began to make compresses for the poor guards, who were groaning loudly from the armchairs sofas in the large drawing room. At last all their wounds were bandaged, their bruises covered with compresses, and the tips of the Saracens' arrows extracted and piled up in a heap by the fireplace. The cook gave each of the guards a large mug of mulled wine and they soon cheered up and stopped groaning. And after the cook had poured them a second mug, they smoothed out their beards and began to sing a Scottish song at the tops of their voices:
Loch Fynn is wild, as you have seen,
As falls the night and rings the bell,
The ancient kingdom Gododin
Appears at the door of Hell.
When like a fire through the glass
The strongest whiskey gives us light,
A smiling devil looks at us,
And Moon postpones its daily flight.
The woody hills are cold and wet,
But from eleven until five
We eat and drink, and we aren't dead,
As Gododin keeps us alive!
But when again we see the sun,
The Kingdom falls into Loch Fynn,
And all the devils start to run,
To bring new souls to Gododin...
At this point, the guards' song was interrupted by a terrible howling from the roof of the castle. The Cat, who was peacefully dozing in Grandma's lap, jumped up and rushed off to the top of the keep. His fur was standing on end, his whiskers bristled and his eyes burned. Sultan Saladin would have been frightened of him if he had seen him. Robin ran after the Cat, bounding up the steps of the staircase two at a time.
To their disappointment nothing terrible awaited them. In fact, it was a long time since they had been able to admire such a wonderful peaceful landscape. The huge red sun had already all but disappeared behind the black forest, and the sky was a series of bright orange-yellow strips. There was no wind, even the birds were not singing, so that over the castle and the surrounding area there was a solemn and majestic silence.
Suddenly the Cat noticed someone's legs sticking out of a sentry-room. More precisely, they were the slender legs of one of the parlour maids. The Cat began to snuffle loudly and went up to the parlour maid.
"A faint!" he ascertained with the look of a professor of medicine. "The usual thing, she has probably seen a mouse and has fainted. Give her some vinegar to smell!"
But the parlour maid had already started to come to her senses. Her pale cheeks had turned pink, her eyes opened slightly and she suddenly whispered:
"A black turban..."
"A black turban!?" Robin exclaimed. "Where?"
The parlour maid waved her hand in the direction of the castle gates and again lost consciousness. Robin and the Cat shifted their gaze downwards and could not believe their eyes: the drawbridge was lowered and the gates were wide open!
"The enemy is in the castle!" Robin began to yell, and he and the Cat rushed down the stairs. When they reached the large drawing room the Cat stopped dead, and Robin, who was flying along behind him, stumbled and almost fell.
"Dear God!" Robin whispered.
In the castle drawing room was Sultan Saladin himself, stroking his long black beard while seated in Robin's oak armchair. Around him stood North Africans with bared sabres. In one corner were the unfortunate guards huddled together and bound with a single long rope. The cook, Tian Aubergine, was tied to the iron cauldron in the kitchen, and nearby the gluttonous Saracens were devouring a large trout that he had prepared for supper. Most awful of all was that Grandmother had also been taken prisoner. They had planted her on a sofa and she was flanked by guards armed to the teeth. The butler Boumberg was standing in the corner looking embarrassed. He was not tied up. In his hands was a bag of gold dinars. "Traitor!" thought Robin. "It was he who opened the gates to the Saracens!"
"Search for the treasure!!" Sultan Saladin roared.
Robin and the Cat came to their senses and ran as fast as their legs would carry them out of the drawing room.
"After them!" the leader of the Saracens ordered.
And so, with their weapons clattering, the Sultan's North African guards rushed after Robin and the Cat.
Robin had never had to run so fast. He jumped three stairs at a time, flung open doors, scattered chairs after him and overturned dressers to block the path of his pursuers. Next to him Saladin the Cat tore along at a great speed. He later claimed to have lost two kilograms in weight as a result of this chase. So that his paws did not slide on the stone floor, the Cat jumped across chairs and sofas and clutched at tapestries hanging on the walls. He even jumped onto a chandelier, from where a dark-skinned Saracen tried to bring him down with a halberd. The Cat flew out of a window into the yard, where new enemies rushed to grab him, leapt back in through another window onto Robin's back, and rolled himself up into a ball.
At this moment, after running around the galleries of almost the whole castle, Robin found himself before a door in the East Tower. Without a second's thought he flung it open, slipped inside and locked the door right in front of the Saracens. A heavy soldier tried to break down the door but the old oak boards held fast.
"Fetch an axe!" the voice of Sultan Saladin was heard.
Robin and the Cat, shaking and gasping for breath, examined the room in which they had found themselves. They had not ventured into the East Tower since the incident with the phantoms.
This time everything was quiet in the tower. The furniture stood in its place and the starry sky could be seen through the arrow-slits. The opening to the secret room could be seen high up in one of the walls.
The Saracens had found an axe and started to hack at the door. Splinters scattered from the oak planks and the door creaked, but still it held. Robin took a decision:
"Dear Cat! Through the opening, quickly!"
Saladin reached the ledge in one jump, but Robin found it more difficult to climb up. The high bench, which he used last time to stand on, was not in its place. However much he tried to stretch from the floor to the window ledge he could not manage it.
"Help me dear Cat!" Robin begged.
The brave Saladin gripped the ledge with all his strength and lowered his tail to Robin. "A cat's tail is its most precious asset", the Cat thought, "but if Robin's life is at stake I must feel no pity for myself!"
Robin seized the cat's tail and somehow climbed up the wall. Having squeezed after Saladin through the opening, he started to climb down the other side in complete darkness, but could not stop himself from falling on something soft.
"Ouch!" yelled Saladin the Cat.
"Dear Cat, excuse me, I didn't know it was you!" said Robin.
At that moment the Saracens hacked through the door and burst into the East Tower.
"They're not here!" one of them exclaimed.
"Look harder, you fools!!" the voice of the Sultan rang out in reply.
Robin and the Cat, having hidden themselves in the darkness, listened as the Saracens ran about on the other side of the wall following the Sultan's orders. In the hope of finding a path to safety, Robin began moving forward on all fours across the dark room. Suddenly his right hand came across some kind of long, cold metal object.
"Look, it's our hunting horn!" said Robin in a whisper to the Cat.
At that moment, on the other side of the wall, the terrible voice of Sultan Saladin was heard:
"There's an opening here! They could have climbed through it!"
Two North Africans ran up to the wall and began to try and squeeze through the opening, helping one other up and cursing in Arabic.
"What do we do now?" Robin asked the Cat in despair.
"Blow into the horn!" the wise Cat advised.
And so Robin began to blow into the horn with all his might. At first nothing happened, but he blew more strongly, and at last a soft ancient music poured from the horn. As the Saracens tried to squeeze through the opening, the music sounded louder and louder, and a strange yellowish light started to penetrate into the room. It seemed as though the sun was shining through a cloud of yellow dust. The clatter of hooves could be heard, and Robin and the Cat suddenly realised that they were on a wide plain overgrown with camel's thorn. Right beside them they saw a cavalcade of horsemen under white banners with red crosses.
"Templars!" Robin exclaimed joyfully.
From the direction of the opening in the wall a great deal of noise could be heard. Black North Africans jumped onto their horses and surrounded the Sultan with a living wall and hundreds of fresh horsemen in black turbans galloped to their aid. In the distance appeared elephants and camels with their drovers. Behind Sultan Saladin a whole army grew.
But the Templars made no move to retreat. Robin and the Cat watched as the knights calmly rearranged themselves into a formation known as the `pig' (in the shape of a blunt wedge). They lowered the visors of their helmets and pointed their spears forward. It seemed as though an iron wall was approaching the army of the Saracens. The knights flew past, almost brushing against Robin and the Cat, and cut into the enemy army. The plain resounded with the Templars' terrible war cries, which the Saracens answered with a deafening "Allahu akbar!". Swords rung out against shields, spears pierced armour or splintered. Hundreds of hooves raised huge clouds of dust into the air. The groans of the injured merged with the shouts of the battling soldiers.
The attack of the Templars' cavalry was fearsome. Even the battle-hardened North Africans could not withstand the pressure of the Christian horsemen. In front of all the knights one mighty and brave soldier fought. On his shield were three reclining lions. With each blow he knocked one of the enemy soldiers from their horse. Ignoring the blows of his enemies, he broke through the ring of North Africans to Sultan Saladin himself and seized him by the beard. Roaring like an injured bull, the evil Sultan spurred his horse and rode away from the battlefield. Half of his beard was left in the hands of the knight with the three lions on his shield. Laughing loudly, he lifted the fragment of the beard and waved it above his head.
Seized with panic, the Saracens retreated. They discarded their weapons, the green banners and their black turbans. Only one thing concerned them now - how to save themselves from the ruthless revenge of the Crusaders. For the Templars had scattered across the battlefield like vultures and were attacking the fleeing enemy, piercing them with their long spears.
The knight with the lions on his shield and two of his comrades in cloaks, one embroidered with lilies and the other with golden double-crosses, separated from the rest of the army and approached Robin and Saladin the Cat.
"I thank you for your help, noble seigniors!" Robin greeted them. "No treasures will suffice to reward you for your courage and valour! Allow me, Robin of the Mysterious Castle, and my friend Baron Saladin the Cat, to invite you to supper in our humble dwelling!"
The Cat, having unexpectedly been made into a baron, assumed a dignified air and began to twirl his whiskers, while at the same time smiling graciously.
"I hail you, noble Robin, and you, the splendid Saladin the Cat", the knight with the lions answered courteously. "Allow me to present my comrades: His Majesty King Philip-Augustus of France, His Majesty King Guido of Jerusalem. You may call me Richard".
"Richard the Lionheart!" Robin guessed.
"To have supper with the noble owner of the Mysterious Castle, his faithful fighting Cat and venerable Grandmother is a great honour for us!" said King Guido sadly. "But with the first crow of the cock we must disappear, as phantoms should".
Robin, the Cat and the three kings proceeded into the castle, where there were no signs of the recent invasion. The two parlour maids hurriedly set the table while Grandma took some smelling salts, and the guards seated themselves at the table and followed Tian Aubergine with hungry eyes as he fetched a whole deer from the pantry. Only Boumberg the butler, the cowardly traitor, did not participate in the preparation of supper. He was tied to a stout granite column and miserably awaited his fate.
"I proclaim a Royal Feast!" Robin exclaimed.
Everyone jumped up and rushed about. The fire blazed cheerfully. The magnificent deer was browning on the spit. The Cat brought the oldest Burgundy, from the time of the Third Crusade, from the wine cellar. Grandma put on her holiday dress and a festive apron. The two parlour maids blushed and became embarrassed in the presence of the elegant French king, and the guards looked with admiration at the most famous of knights - Richard the Lionheart.
Tian Aubergine surpassed himself. What masterpieces of medieval cookery he produced! There was an aspic made from wild boar's ears, bear's liver in port, and a pie with ten live nightingales, which scattered across the banqueting hall when the pie was cut.
The kings, the guards, Robin, the Cat, and even Grandma filled their goblets and drank to all the fine things in the world (battles, castles, sides of bull, treasures and terrible adventures according to Saladin). And when the deer had been roasted, the cook cut each of them a huge piece with pepper and garlic, and they all ate as much as they could. Poor Saladin the Cat ate a little too much, and so he climbed down from the table and lay down on the rug before the fireplace, purring more like an ordinary cat than a baron.
The guards fetched their lutes and bagpipes, and all the old soldiers who had survived the siege of Acre struck up their favourite song:
He will not give up an acre,
Old and cunning Saladin.
We press on with Siege of Acre,
While besieged by Saracens.
We are dried by Palestina,
We have even ceased to pray.
Saladin, the happy winner,
Sees us dying every day.
With the banner in the middle
We attack to all the sides.
Our king, unlucky Guido,
Sways of tiredness when rides.
Friendly armies cannot reach us,
Turks cry shrilly day and night.
You alone, courageous Richard,
Could bring light to our plight!
You are King of fields of battle,
Noble, fearless and stern.
You'd drive Turks away like cattle,
You'd give Sultan a bad turn!
We shall follow wherever
You lead us through Holy Land,
But one half of us shall never
See what happens in the end.
Only hoarse cries of crows,
No tombs you would find soon:
Vultures' beaks and jackals' mouths
Bury us in sands of dune.
Shields and swords are now useless:
We can hardly go yet.
But with God we shall find goodness
And eternal rest instead!
Masked by the sounds of this sad song, the crafty butler Boumberg slipped unnoticed from under the rope which bound him, and crept out of the castle. Casting a timid glance at Richard, who bellowed "And eternal rest instead!" Boumberg slipped through the unlocked gates, waded through the moat and disappeared. Nobody saw him after that, but some even said that he had crossed the waters to Southampton.
Saladin the Cat had cosily curled himself up into a ball, tucked his paws into his tail and fallen asleep. He dreamed of battles in the desert, the Pilgrim's Castle on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea and the path of Godfrey of Boullion. The Cat turned and groaned in his sleep. Then he dreamed of a huge roast duck with cranberry sauce and he began to purr sweetly before waking up.
It was already morning. The sun shone brightly through the arched windows of the castle. Birds were singing. Grandma was standing by the stove and stirring a wonderful porridge with cream and honey in the cauldron. Robin was doing exercises on the large Karabakh carpet in the drawing room.