Whitemantle (31 page)

Thirst began to afflict Will now. By careful management, the feeling had returned to his hands, though he still suffered much discomfort in hands, arms and chest. Sleep was not possible for either man, and every once in a while Lotan shifted his position, though on the whole he bore the trial of Will’s weight with immense patience.

‘If your brother really is coming to kill you, I wish he would hurry up,’ Lotan said, after another readjustment.

The remark made Will laugh, and the laugh seemed so incongruous in the dank darkness that he found it hard to stop. At last he let out a long sigh, and the gloom settled back on him like crows on a furrowed field.

‘I don’t know what’s keeping Chlu, but whoever’s put us here knows who I am. I’m afraid that can only mean we’re awaiting Maskull’s pleasure.’

‘Do you mind explaining to me how you know that?’

‘What’s the floor made of in here?’

The odd question took Lotan by surprise. ‘It’s…unmade. Hard-packed earth.’

‘I thought so. And that’s why I’ve been dangled up here. Once, years ago, I was embraced by the Green Man and I think that changed me so that I could draw power from the earth just as a tree draws what it needs to live. Of all the people here in Ebor only Maskull knows that I have a magical talent and that my capacity to do magic may be thwarted in this way.’

‘If you’re right then we are both of us done for.’

The matter-of-fact way that Lotan replied made Will smile wryly in the darkness. All along the big man had dismissed his own ordeal with apparent unconcern and Will was grateful for his steady refusal to admit despair. That was an admirable trait, a sign of true courage.

They began to swap tales of many things, of Will’s home in the Vale and of Lotan’s travelling days. Will spoke of horses and helmets and how to grow green beans and Lotan told of sea-faring in the Far North and drinking ale in a contest to save his life in the mead houses of the Easterlings.

Then Will sang a poem that Gwydion had taught him.

‘Hearken to this truth I tell you,

Lost, we sailed the stark salt wave.

‘Dealing days of bitter hardship,

Steering straight, our lives to save.’

And Lotan joined in.

‘Strange the seas and mischance many,

So far the fathoms, so deep the swell.

‘Of frosty, fearsome waters travelled,

No landsman, haven-safe, can tell.

‘Fast the fogs that gird the Baerberg,

Soon the strand where silver lies.

‘Looming large the subtle stairway,

Rising rare before our eyes…’

There were many more verses that spoke of a hero’s journey to the northernmost edge of the world and his quest to climb a secret stairway and use a golden key to stop the sky spinning and open a door that led into the Brightness beyond.

When the song was over Will ached in the darkness, his blood tingling. He told himself that had he wanted someone to look up to, someone from whom he could learn about
what it meant to be a man, and a man worthy of kingship, then there was no one better than Lotan.

But it was too late now. So many of the heroes of Will’s youth had been killed or broken. He thought of Sir John Morte, lying dead in the field, of Tutor Aspall, fleeing south in terror. Then there was Duke Richard himself, whose glamour had once touched Will, and of course Gwydion. What would happen to him, now that the magic was leaving in earnest? The process was quickening every day, starting with the leeching away of the little magics of everyday life, then the influences of Wise Women, the wonder-working of loremasters – eventually even the high spells of the Ogdoad would fail, and in the end the power that was the ancient work of the fae.

Suddenly there came sounds from outside that drove all other thoughts from Will’s mind. The grinding of old iron bolts and the creak of hinges filled his belly with fear. The moment he had tried to deny had come. He gathered himself to face his tormentor. But when the door was opened a piercing light burst across the room that made him turn his head aside.

Two black shapes moved in the torchlight. A ladder propped against the wall at Will’s side and a stocky figure climbed up and leaned across him. Deft fingers began to unscrew the bolts that secured his hands. He groaned at the ache in his chest as he was moved, but then he was lowered to the ground and left to lie there while the shackles on Lotan’s neck and wrists were undone.

As soon as Will touched the ground he began to draw surreptitiously upon the power that could be found there.

‘I should apologize for the delay,’ a sharp voice said, ‘but you must understand that I had to wait until the last of the army had left before I came for you.’

Will shielded his eyes from the light of the torch, trying at the same time to identify the dark shape that had spoken.
The voice seemed familiar, but not so familiar that he could place it.

‘Where are you taking us?’ he croaked.

‘To dine with a friend.’

Despite everything, Will felt hope spring alive. ‘Who are you?’ he asked.

‘Do you not recognize me?’ the figure said, tilting its head. ‘I am John Sefton.’

A
nd so they were released by John Sefton – or Lord Dudlea as Will better knew him. Dudlea had not issued the order to lock them up, or to release them, he said. He was only a go-between.

Dudlea’s servant gave them a skin of water. Enough to drink, then more to wash in.

‘Trust me,’ Dudlea said. ‘I haven’t forgotten my oath to do the right thing.’

Will grunted. ‘If having us thrown in here was the right thing, then I’d hate to see you do wrong.’

‘I didn’t put you here. That was your friend, and done to protect you. As you’ll soon see.’

Lotan growled. ‘Have you any idea what it’s been like sitting in this stinking hole?’

‘What better place than here to keep you safe from the general tumult?’

Will’s patience wore thin. ‘We are used to looking after ourselves, and we resent interference!’

‘I’m sure of that my good crow, but you were about to be recognized and killed.’

‘I’m no crow. And if you’re playing games with us,
Dudlea, then my hard-done-by friend here will snap your neck like a dry twig!’

But Dudlea was blithe enough to smile. ‘Gratitude is powerful enough to make spells from. Your Master Gwydion once told me that. Perhaps that’s why you hold it back like a miser.’

‘Now, listen to me, Dudlea—’

‘Be calm. We’re on the same side. And the man whom you’re about to meet is your friend – despite having a little too much royal blood in his veins.’

‘Royal blood?’

‘At least it’s not the queen,’ Lotan murmured.

‘Oh, Mag’s long gone.’ Dudlea’s teeth glittered in the torchlight. ‘Although the prince who requests your company is most loyal to Hal’s cause.’

‘Prince, did you say?’

‘Oh, yes. In fact, he’s just been given the Army of the West, though I think “Lord Commander” is a title that would sit rather better with me.’

Will and Lotan exchanged questioning glances. Army of the West? What was that? So far as they knew, no such army existed. And who could the queen have appointed to a command like that? Surely no one who might be described as their friend.

Will contained the impulse to make Dudlea tell all. If he was up to no good, then they would know soon enough. They cleaned themselves up as best they could, then were conducted speedily out of Clifton’s Tower and hurried towards the Great Hall of Ebor Castle.

The bailey was now in darkness and almost deserted. A cold mist hung over the castle and there was a keen smell of woodsmoke in the air. It tasted like wine to Will. His misgivings began to evaporate – at least they were out of the dungeon, and that was something. Helmeted
guards stood in the lee of the two main gateways and several small windows showed lights, but the place was eerily silent compared to the night before. As they emerged from under the keep and went out into the open, a clock struck the hour. Will counted three, which made him wonder how much time they had been forced to waste. What it might mean for the Realm could only be guessed at, for events were now once again moving along rapidly.

‘Has Master Gwydion come here?’ Will asked as they came to the doors.

Dudlea looked askance. ‘If he has then he’s not shown himself to me. Are you expecting him?’

Will did not answer, but put his hand on the iron doorring so that Dudlea could not open it. ‘You’re sure the whole of the queen’s army has left Ebor? The Duke of Mells, Lord Strange and all the others?’

‘I tell you they’re making their way into the south. The plan is to take Trinovant as soon as may be. Did you not hear my Lord of Mells say as much? Be easy in your mind – if your enemies had not gone do you think I would have dared to let you out?’

‘I think if the slightest thing had gone wrong you’d have left us to rot.’

‘That’s most unfair.’ Dudlea’s reply was wounded. ‘It’s not just myself I had to consider. I couldn’t risk coming a moment sooner because the sorcerer didn’t leave the castle until after midnight, and if he’d discovered you it would’ve implicated the Lord Commander of the West. All along I’ve done right by you. If you disbelieve me you may ask my wife and son, who both continue in rude good health.’

‘You’re truly a reformed character,’ Will said dryly, seeing a very different reason why Lady Dudlea might not yet have begun to complain about stiffness. In a world without
magic her condition would never deteriorate, no matter how faithless her husband became.

‘So it was this Lord Commander of yours who had us locked up?’ Lotan asked, seizing on the important point.

‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.’

Will shook his head. ‘I don’t understand. How does this man know me? And how did he know to have me hung from chains?’

‘Ah, that was because of me,’ Dudlea admitted. ‘You see, I told him who you were. And I warned him what you could do.’

‘And the chains?’

‘That was my idea too. I remembered a moonlit night not so very long ago when your Master Gwydion drew power from the earth and then gave my wife back to me. I watched how his steps and movements cast the power into spells. I didn’t want you stepping and gesturing your way to freedom. Not for the moment anyway.’

Will hardened his gaze, relieved that Dudlea had not really appreciated the mechanism whereby a crow gathered his powers. ‘You took a foolish gamble with me, John Sefton. Ordinarily it would only have taken a few words of the true tongue to set me free, even from a lock-hole such as that one. And then I would have come for you!’

Lord Dudlea put out a placating hand. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t have gone so far as to cut out your tongue. But you must understand that I could hardly lodge you in comfort. I needed to cover myself should news of your arrest reach important ears.’

‘Maskull’s, you mean?’ Will said.

‘Among others. I needed to make sure that things were
explicable
if he found out about you. As it was, he didn’t find out, and he didn’t pay that visit to your cell.’

Lotan said, ‘If he had, he would have congratulated you on your diligence.’

‘Old habits die hard, it seems.’ Will rubbed again at his wrists. ‘I thought you’d foresworn double dealing. What are you after?’

Dudlea became intense. ‘I promised I would do the right thing, and that’s what I’ve been doing. But I don’t see how jeopardizing myself would have helped our side.’

‘Our side?’ Will said, rolling his eyes, but Dudlea seemed to be in complete earnest.

‘Yes. Those of us who are working for peace now. The sorcerer had you marked. Your name was on the list of those who were to die after the battle. “The Crowmaster and his helper.” That’s what it said. I saw it with my own eyes, and then I saw you. I could hardly believe it. I wondered how one so cunning could be so stupid as to come to Ebor and show himself just as Mells was bringing in the heads!’

Will gritted his teeth. ‘I didn’t realize I was so well known around the queen’s court.’

Dudlea’s scorn was undisguised. ‘Oh, they know about you, all right! Enough to put quite a sum of gold on your head. That’s why we have to be so careful.’

Before Will unlatched the door, he looked up and saw the full moon riding high in the south. His deepest feelings had led him to Ebor, but so far nothing had gone right. They could not have been wholly in error, could they?

It’s Morann, he told himself silently, thinking back to the time when the loremaster had vouched for him in front of the Duke of Mells. Who else could it be?

He steeled himself, knowing that he had come to an important crossroads. But when he entered the empty hall there was but one figure sitting in shadow in the tall-backed chair. It was not the man he expected.

The other did not get up or make any move, but lounged there, negligently drumming his fingers on the arm-rest of the High Chair of the city.

‘Thrones are ten-a-penny these days,’ he said as Will approached. ‘It seems like everybody wants to be king.’

‘All except the real one.’

The figure leaned forward into the light and smiled. ‘That’s the truth. How goes it, Maceugh?’

That was a welcome Will recognized, an echo from the past. Between the sack of Ludford and the battle at Delamprey he had been obliged to adopt the identity of an emissary of the Blessed Isle and had lodged dangerously with the queen’s court. That emissary’s name had been Maceugh.

As Will shook the proffered hand he breathed in sharply at so unexpected a turn. ‘Jasper of Pendrake…Prince of Cambray. Well, well, well. Now it all makes sense.’

‘None other.’ The red-haired swordsman had once been sent to investigate the truth or otherwise of the Maceugh’s identity, but he had found himself liking Will better than his paymaster. He now made an open-handed gesture. ‘Who else did you think would have troubled to save your foolish neck?’

‘Not you.’ Will smiled, though a serious question was on his mind. ‘When last we met I was clothed in the flesh of another. How did you know me?’

Jasper laughed. ‘Think again. Last year we met another time. It was in the aftermath of the battle at Delamprey. You may not have noticed me for, as I recall, you and Lord Warrewyk were having something of an argument at the time.’

‘That’s right. I was accusing him of murder.’

‘The reason I remember it all so well is that I was in some slight difficulty with the said lord. As it happened, your arrival saved my neck. And “One good turn deserveth another”, as I think one of your redes says.’

Will thought back to the beheadings after Delamprey. There had been a row of miserable men waiting, naked
and bound, for Lord Warrewyk’s axe. Jasper had been one of them, and so too had Lord Dudlea.

Jasper said, ‘A man can’t really let a favour like that go unrecognized. I asked high and low after you, but I was given no satisfactory answer. Until I met our mutual friend here.’

Will looked to Dudlea. ‘Him?’

Dudlea pursed his lips. ‘We had something in common, you might say. He asked me and I put the pieces together for him. In the end the conclusion I came to was inescapable. The Crowmaster’s apprentice and the Maceugh must have been one and the same person.’

Will nodded. ‘A spell of transformation.’

‘I’d heard of such things.’ Jasper grinned. ‘I hope you didn’t mind my locking you up. Like all newly persuaded men, my lord of Dudlea can be a little overzealous in the cause at times.’

Will’s gaze was unwavering. ‘So, what now?’

‘Like I said, my lord Dudlea and I found we had views in common. We’d both rather the war stopped.’

‘You’re not the only one.’

‘It’s dangerous work, but someone’s got to do it, eh?’

‘So says Queen Mag’s Lord Commander of the Army of the West.’ Will said, puncturing Jasper’s flippancy. ‘How do you square that appointment with your views?’

‘You think I should have rejected the honour? I had no choice. And I’ll say this to you: what better position could there be to work from? My father, Owain, is in Cambray, raising an army. We’ll take it to Ludford and try to flush Edward out.’

‘Bring him to battle while the queen takes her hammer and knocks on the gates of Trinovant,’ Lotan said, nodding at the soundness of the plan.

‘Oh, your friend here thinks like a strategist,’ said Jasper. ‘There’s only Lord Warrewyk who can put armed men
between Mag and the White Hall now. And with those halfmen in her army she’ll sweep him aside like autumn leaves.’

‘Edward’s almost certainly at Ludford, raising an army of Marchermen,’ Will said.

‘We know where he is.’ Jasper shrugged. ‘We need to catch him and bring him to terms. That’s why I must ride at first light.’

Will put his face in his hands for a moment, then he looked up and said wearily. ‘So – let me get this straight – you’re going to draw your armies up and face one another. And then what?’

‘We won’t sue for peace, but nor will we demand he surrenders to us. If we come to him in sufficient strength…’ Jasper saw that he was failing to dispel Will’s incredulity and was angered. ‘What else can we do? I’ll offer him a settlement in good faith! He’ll understand that now his father’s dead the greatest obstacle to peace has been removed.’

Will groaned inside. He wanted to seize Jasper by the shoulders and explain to him that there were mighty doomstones hidden in the earth, monsters drawing power against the most well-meaning plan. Even as they spoke, the lorc would be undermining every one of Jasper’s good intentions, and whatever else was true, things would certainly not go as he hoped.

He stared back at the Cambrayman, and whispered, ‘You’re a good man. You really are. But you’re out of your mind.’

Jasper stood up, outraged. ‘What?’

‘You cannot ride faster than bad news. And you should keep away from Edward if you value your life.’

‘Someone has to try to offer him a way out!’

‘What makes you think he wants one? To him you’re just one of the bastards who hung his father’s head from Ebor’s walls and set a paper crown upon it. He’ll never
forgive you now, Jasper. Not even when your own head has been cut off and trampled in the dirt.’

Before Will left Ebor he asked Lord Dudlea for three horses, a tent and a token of safe passage, and they were granted him. The great city had not been as badly treated as Awakenfield, but it had suffered ransack and ruin. They led the horses gingerly down into the town, and as they went Will began to feel for the ligns. He considered the possibility that he had imagined them among the other spectres that his mind had made from the darkness and pain, but they were real enough. The trace was faint, but his scrying sense had not wholly deserted him and now it confirmed his suspicions – the ligns were the birch and the hazel. It looked as if they crossed like arrows piercing the white heart of the city.

‘They cross near the chapter house?’ Lotan asked, following the line of sight where Will pointed.

‘Right underneath it.’

The news seemed to trouble the big man, though he tried to make small of it. ‘Do you really think that’s so?’

‘I’m sure. The Fellowship must have built their chapter house on the site of an ancient temple, just as they did at Verlamion and a hundred other places. Now you see the reason why your erstwhile brothers are so interested in the lorc.’