The Palace Library by Steven Loveridge

girls.
    “Why
didn’t you just ask!” laughed Harry, as if it hadn’t been obvious.
    “Stop
playing games, Harry.  Just read it to us,” said Eleanor crossly.
    “All
right, all right.  Here it is.  It seems to be a poem.  But I must
warn you, I can read the words now but I don’t know what it means.  It
really is cryptic.”
     
    So Harry read the poem out loud
to them all:
     
    To
drown the Sword not once, but twice
    Will
be the traitors’ game.
    To
wreck the Crown at large
    Will
be the treacherous aim.
     
    Plucked
from their homes, the innocents
    Will
travel past World’s End
    To
meet their destiny and fate
    To
rescue freedom and a friend.
     
    Hell’s
Bay will sound with clashing tones.
    Dragons
must not be slain
    When
fire heats up the water’s edge
    When
Ascalon is forged again.
     
    By
Dragons’ Bane the children three
    Will
dull and lull the putrid lair,
    To
pluck from him the oily stone
    By
breathing out the vapoured air.
     
    Box
up your fears and frights,
    Beware
the direct route.
    Success
will come to he who thinks,
    Who
wears another’s suit.
     
    The
traitors’ curse will free itself
    When
passions clash with fate.
    Freedom
and not the end
    Lies
through the Traitors’ Gate.
     
    The
Witan looks for freedom first.
    Seek
and you will find.
    Trust
in the truth; look for knowledge.
    May
friendship be your bind.
     
    “Is
that it?” said Grace.  “I don’t understand.  What’s it meant to
mean?”
    “Well,”
added Master John.  “It’s certainly a pretty piece.  Parts seem
clear, but most of it is very cloudy.  Now at least we know that if Queen
Eleanor knew part of the Prophecy, she knew enough that there was a drowned
sword and three children.
    “It
seems clear too that you’re on a hunt as well - a dragon hunt - as the Queen
warned you.  Perhaps there are clues in this, perhaps not.  We have
another day in this carriage so there’ll be plenty of time for you to think
about it anyway.”
    Eloise,
of course, sat silently throughout this.  But Sophie was sitting up in the
carriage, her nose up high sniffing the air and listening intently, before she
put her head down on Eleanor’s lap.  Eleanor fondled Sophie’s head
absent-mindedly.
    “Read
the verse with the bit about the dragon again will you, Harry?”
    “Hell’s
Bay will sound…”
    “No
not that one.  The next one.”
    “By
Dragons’ Bane, the children three
    Will
dull and lull the putrid lair,
    To
pluck from him the oily stone…”
    “Dragons’
Bane.  I thought so,” said Eleanor.  “I’ve seen the word ‘bane’
before in my book.  I just need to find it again.”
    Eleanor
flicked through the book and found the right page.  “Here it is.” 
She began reading, “ ‘Purple Bane.  A beautiful and delicate flower once
believed to have been common all over England, but now very rare.  It has
delicate flowers which tempt you to smell it, but the plant stinks.  What
bane it was used for is now forgotten, but it serves no modern purpose.’ I
think ‘bane’ means poison.  Perhaps Dragons’ Bane is how we kill the
dragons to get the diamond.”
    “But
the poem says that dragons must not be slain,” pointed out Harry. 
“Perhaps the dragons need to be alive for the magic to work on the Sword. 
Maybe the blacksmith will know when we meet him.”
    “Not
all poisons kill,” replied Master John.  “The healers sometimes mix up
herbs and flowers for my hounds if they need looking after. It makes them
drowsy and can put them to sleep. They are poisons sure enough, but do not
kill.  When they awake, they seem to recover.  You need to talk to a
healer and ask more about this Dragons’ Bane.  Perhaps one could tell you.”
    “More
to the point,” said Grace, “it doesn’t seem to tell us where we’re going. 
I’m learning to use my star map to help us get somewhere, but it’s not much
good if we don’t even know where we’re going!  World’s End sounds a little
scary, but not as