The Secret Kingdom by Jenny Nimmo

Author:Jenny Nimmo
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781780310237
Publisher: Egmont
Published: 2011-03-04T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

You are a King!

Summer had arrived, but in the mountainous country where Timoken found himself, the nights were still chilly. One morning, as he and Gabar were walking along a narrow mountain track, they heard a long, wailing call. There was no mistaking the desperate urgency in the voice.

Timoken had been leading Gabar, rather than riding him, and now he dropped the reins and, kneeling on the ground, looked over the edge of the track. At first, he could see nothing, and then, far below, he made out the small figure of a boy. He was sitting on a ledge that jutted out a metre or so above a fast and furious river. The boy had thick copper-coloured hair and a face that looked all the paler for the dark blood that streamed from his nose.

‘I fell!’ The boy looked up at Timoken. ‘Can you help me?’

A strange language, thought Timoken. But he could understand it. He sat back and tried to think what to do.

‘Please don’t leave me, I beg you!’ called the boy. ‘I think my arm is broken, and I cannot swim.’

How did he think anyone could rescue him? It was an almost sheer drop down to the ledge. Even with a rope it would be impossible to rescue the boy if he had a broken arm. Timoken had no choice. He would have to fly.

‘Gabar, don’t move!’ Timoken commanded. ‘This track is dangerous.’

Gabar gave a loud snort and stamped his foot, sending a shower of rocks bouncing down the mountainside.

‘HELP!’ came a cry.

‘I’m coming,’ called Timoken. He launched himself off the track and floated gently down to the ledge where the boy was sitting. For a moment they gazed, astonished, at each other. And then the strange boy said, ‘Do all Africans fly?’

‘No,’ replied Timoken. ‘Do all your people have fiery hair and … and marks across their faces?’

‘Only some,’ said the boy. ‘My father and my brothers are all freckle-faced.’

A cascade of stones came tumbling down behind him and he yelped, ‘Can you lift me, African? Can you fly with me?’

‘I can lift camels,’ said Timoken, putting his arms around the boy’s waist. Lifting him carefully, Timoken easily flew up to the track.

Gabar, surprised by the sudden appearance of the two boys, stepped away nervously. One of his back feet slipped off the side of the track and, with a rumble of stones, the camel disappeared over the edge, bellowing with fear.

Without hesitation, Timoken dropped the boy on the ground and flew after Gabar. He tried to catch him as he fell, but the camel was heavy and laden with bags. He dropped like a stone into the fast-flowing river, his desperate voice gurgling up through the water in rings of muddy bubbles.

Timoken plunged after him. The river was thick with weeds and mud but he could feel Gabar’s shaggy hair just beneath the surface and, looping his arms around the camel’s neck, he pulled with every ounce of his strength. Gabar thrashed in the water for a moment and then, all at once, his body sagged and he sank down to the riverbed.

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