Whitemantle Page 41

  ‘Do not dwell upon the stone,’ Will said. ‘For Edward of Ebor has a like one which he has given out in pieces to his army. Neither will affect the outcome of the next battle.’

  Will saw the still-smoking Doomstone in his mind’s eye, a mottled black and grey slab with a part-healed wound across its middle. He could not see the queen distributing it among her followers. Nor could he see Maskull taking too much of a liking to it.

  Gwydion said to the rider, ‘If you wish to see your lord again you must do one of two things: either ride down to Windover and thence make your way towards the Wolds. Edward of Ebor is presently approaching the town of Chipping-by-the-Wold. Your master will seek to meet with him there. Or, if you would save yourself many fruitless leagues, you may ride with us to Trinovant for that now must be our goal. Be assured it is the place to which Friend Edward will march his men in due course.’

  The rider’s face revealed only doggedness. ‘I thank you for your offer, Crowmaster. But, though we would gladly have your protection on the road, we must, I fear, do as duty bids us and ride westward.’

  The wizard nodded approvingly. ‘That is well said. We thank you for what you have told us. Fare thee well!’

  ‘Farewell to you also, Crowmaster. And for myself I’ll say that I should welcome a return to the days when lordly counsel was governed by sage advice.’ The rider gave an order and his column cantered away down the scarp.

  ‘You were right about the Caorthan lign,’ the wizard said as soon as the riders had gone. ‘I was wrong. I should not have doubted you.’

  Will made no direct reply, he only asked, ‘Do you still wish to make for Trinovant?’

  The wizard nodded. ‘Unless you can see how we might steal the remains of the Verlamion Doomstone, which seems now to be in Maskull’s possession.’

  Will stiffened. ‘I was thinking that we might try ourselves against a greater menace – the one that lies undisturbed at Baronet Hadlea.’

  Willow looked horrified. ‘Do you feel that’s where the power’s running now?’

  ‘No. The lorc is quiet,’ Will admitted. ‘But surely we ought to go to Baronet Hadlea ahead of Maskull? He may have reasons to try to tap the stone.’

  ‘What do you say to that, Master Gwydion?’ Gort asked expectantly.

  The wizard put a hand to his chin and stroked his beard. ‘We do not know what Maskull requires. We do not know if he was present at Verlamion, or if he has tapped that stone.’

  ‘But we do know what the queen will do if she is still under Maskull’s influence,’ Willow said. ‘She will march on Trinovant with all speed.’

  Gwydion looked to the east. ‘Yet, I think at the same time as she threatens to besiege the City, she will send ahead to the Lord Mayor and his Aldermen and offer them easier terms.’

  Willow asked, ‘Do you mean she’ll offer to forget their disloyalty if only they’ll open their gates to their rightful king?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘But after what she did at Ebor only a fool would take her word that she’d not harm the City!’

  ‘Ah, well. That is the price she must now pay for her rashness.’

  They all looked to Will, waiting for a decision.

  He looked at them each in turn, then he said, ‘We’ll go to Trinovant.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  EDWARD

  Will’s choice proved to be popular. The wizard had thought to go to Trinovant anyway, and Gort agreed with him. As for Willow, her thoughts had been turning to her daughter.

  They rode as fast as they could due south by woodland paths, through the great beech woods of Hugh’s Den, and came before long to a bend of the Iesis, which some called Thamesis. At the village of Martlow they stopped at an inn run by two brothers where Gwydion asked to have redeemed a long-outstanding favour. And so it was that they left their horses and took a small boat with two sweeps, which they pulled in turn while Willow steered them, following all the twists and turns of the river for seven leagues.

  The Iesis was swollen with winter water, and flowing swiftly. They passed many a river village before Will saw the great round tower of the royal castle of Wyndsor. On they went, but now the rowing grew harder, as if the river itself was conspiring against them. And when they next changed about, Will saw that the river’s flow was ponding back, swelling water up the muddy banks. No longer was the Iesis helping them, but rather hindering. Gwydion said they had come so far down they were in a tidal reach, and that no good would come of rowing for a while.

  As they waited, they ate. And as they ate, Willow asked, ‘How did you know about Verlamion, Will?’

  ‘Because it’s on the rowan lign. When we passed it on our way north I felt the stone. I knew then that the Doomstone had repaired itself.’

  ‘But how did you know about Lord Strange going without his helmet into battle?’

  ‘Because it stands to reason.’ Will turned to face her. ‘If magic is leaving the world then the Hogshead must be losing his piggish looks. That boar helm of his will no longer fit, and he hasn’t had time to have a new one made.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll think himself well rewarded for his choices. As if his return to handsomeness has been his own doing, despite not having taken the hard way that Master Gwydion prescribed!’

  ‘That’s the sort of world we’re heading into,’ Will said bitterly. ‘One where there’s no closed circle of right and responsibility. No justice. No truth. No substance. Only appearances, and false ones at that. I’d rather die than go there.’

  ‘Oh, don’t say that, Will!’

  ‘Why not?’ he said, meeting her eye. ‘It’s the truth. And we all have to die sometime.’

  Now the river paid them back for their patience. Flow turned to ebb and they rowed more swiftly than ever past the deer chases of Rychmond, past the great water wheel and its booming trip-hammers at Hammersmyth, and as darkness fell they pulled past the wintry meadows of Fool Ham, Wand Ward and the Churl’s Seat. Ahead of them now loomed the City.

  Gwydion said that years ago two giant chains had been forged and slung across the river. They were hauled up from the riverbed to deny large ships entry to the City during time of war. but the White Hall was upstream of the City walls, and no one would seek to stop their own little boat landing at the Palace Steps so late at night.

  He was wrong.

  The palace was in turmoil. Its walls were manned by anxious men, archers in Falconburgh’s blue and white livery. No royal boats were drawn up, and when their own approached, a dozen longbows were drawn.

  Will stood up unsteadily and cupped his hands to his mouth. ‘Tell the Duchess Cicely we are here with news of her sons!’

  Moments later, the water gate opened. Men in Ebor tabards came down to the Palace Steps, carrying lanterns. But then they laid their lamps on the ground and began to push the boat off with their halberds.

  Will began to argue, but then he saw the reason for the refusal; for lingering by the arched doorway were three figures in golden robes and tall hats. They had brought their own agents, men in belted black, wearing studded brigandines and heavy leather boots. They carried cudgels, and long pointed knives hung sheathed at their belts.

  ‘We have our orders! You must go!’ the men of the White Hall guard warned. Will noted their looks of concern as they saw the woman in the boat.

  ‘Stop!’ one of the Sightless Ones called, hurrying forward. ‘Arrest them!’

  ‘Do not let them land,’ the captain of the guard told his men. ‘They’ll kill them all!’

  With a start, Will recognized the guard as his old friend Jackhald. ‘Jackhald! It’s Willand! Give me a hand up, I say!’

  But Jackhald had already seen who was in the boat. ‘No, Master Willand, you must not set foot on these steps! These Fellows mean to do you harm!’

  ‘It’s them who have no business here! Just take my hand and we’ll root them out!’

  Will began to struggle across the gap, but in the entrance, behind t
he Elders, a figure swathed in black appeared, a child held in its arms.

  Will saw the figure and froze.

  ‘Bethe!’ Willow cried.

  The six Lamb Hythe guards who had come forward drawing their weapons were almost upon them now.

  ‘Oh, Hell! I knew it’d come to this,’ Jackhald muttered, and drew his hanger.

  His three men turned and readied their own pole weapons, but before they could clash, Will sprang onto the muddy landing step. He danced up a ball of flame and cast it like a man bowling down skittles. Before it could reach its target the fireball flared orange and threw off a stab of heat that blinded and stung the guards’ faces.

  ‘Sorcery!’ a voice called out. ‘He’s the One! Take him!’

  But there was no taking of Will, or of anyone, for the guards hesitated, and so were lost.

  A voice more commanding than all the others boomed out, ‘What is this disgraceful show, Warden?’

  Will looked at the figure in black afresh. A woman of great self-possession threw back her widow’s hood, her pale, lined face adamant in the flickering lantern light.

  ‘Warden, you will call off your men instantly, or, by the moon and stars, I will have you shot through from the towers. All of you, stay where you are! Lay down your arms, do you hear me?’

  And up above, a row of archers, bowstrings drawn to their lips, backed the Duchess Cicely’s words with the threat of death.

  Not a man moved. Willow was the only one to pay the order no heed. She rushed forward and took her daughter in her arms, and as the duchess relinquished the child and turned to usher the new arrivals inside, she gave a meaningful nod to Jackhald and indicated the Fellows. ‘Put them in the boat, Captain,’ she said. ‘And if it should sink on the way back to Lamb Hythe let them swim home.’

  They had gathered in the duchess’s private apartments, where they were provided with food and wine and the warmth of a blazing fire while their own quarters were prepared.

  Will saw with what strength the duchess was bearing the loss of her husband and the uncertain chances of her son’s cause. He mightily approved the way she had announced her intention to prise, as far as she could, the dead hand of the Fellowship off the levers of power.

  ‘Lady, you seem less worried than I might have supposed in such a strait,’ Will said.

  ‘I’ve known my share of difficulties, Master Willand.’ She used the honorific courteously, to recognize his reputed mastery of the magical arts rather than to remark on his comparative youth. ‘You should know that I am no stranger to running a fortress. Even one which has been under siege.’

  Gwydion spoke up. ‘But never before, I think, have you been in such personal peril.’

  The duchess’s face hardened. ‘That harpy who calls herself queen would appear to be at an advantage. That I will grant you. She has won a victory at Verlamion and is little more than a day’s march away from here. But if she thinks that our great capital can now be hers for the asking, she should think again. The good folk of Trinovant have been outraged at the news that has come from Ebor. That my husband’s head was so cruelly used as a decoration for that city’s walls is as unbearable to them as it is to me. The people will rise up and defend their own walls against a like desecration.’

  Gwydion said dourly, ‘You should not be so certain of that, Friend Cicely.’

  Will saw how that answer did nothing to undermine the duchess’s determination. ‘Master Gwydion, this palace is walled and well provisioned enough to keep the queen at bay for several days at least.’

  ‘Do not forget, however, the extent to which the city of Trinovant has overflowed its walls.’

  ‘And what of that?’ the duchess asked.

  The wizard gestured eastward. ‘Despite the many statutes drawn up against the building of hovels without the City walls, fully half the people of Trinovant now live there and are thus defenceless. Do not count on their loyalty, for many voices will be for reaching an accommodation with Mag. And more so still when a thousand wood ogres and moorland trolls come down to overtower your walls.’

  ‘A thousand of them, you say…?’ The duchess put a hand to her lips.

  ‘Mag’s army will get into the City if she orders it. And if the City falls in flame she will be sitting at this very fireside tomorrow evening.’

  ‘My son is coming, and swiftly,’ the duchess said stubbornly.

  ‘Lady, your son may not come swiftly enough.’

  As the company went to their rest Will lingered with the duchess. ‘Please forgive him,’ he said. ‘Our friend sees everything through a dark glass these days. His great life’s quest is nearing its end. He feels the final chapter is coming, and he fears that all his hopes will have been in vain.’

  Another measure of the duchess’s strength visibly left her. ‘Is he right?’ she asked.

  ‘No one can yet say. But I’m sure things are not as bleak as Master Gwydion paints them.’

  She suddenly took Will’s hand in hers. ‘Thank you. When I look at your little girl I cannot believe the world is fated to sink into a mire of evil. I have borne sons and daughters of my own, more than you know, for not all of them lived to speak their first word. Two of my babies died. So it has been a comfort to me in my times of difficulty to be with a young child again. Your Bethe has been like a granddaughter to me.’

  Will embraced the duchess and dried her tears and said, ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure things will work out well in the end. We will all do what we can, and it will be enough.’

  When Will reached their quarters, he found the wizard pacing in an agitated manner.

  ‘Why did you counsel Duchess Cicely so?’ Will asked. ‘You caused her to doubt and to fear, when you know the truth is not nearly so dangerous. A thousand ogres and trolls? A dozen, maybe, and those shrinking fast.’

  ‘Oh, Willand, don’t you see? It was my intention to steer her towards greater diligence. Just as it has been yours, no doubt, to reassure her that all is quite well – which, I may say, it most definitely is not!’

  ‘Do you know something that I don’t, then?’ he asked.

  The wizard uttered a short laugh. ‘Ha! I know many things that you do not.’ His expression hardened. ‘Willand, she must send her officers into the City to disburse a great many bribes and counterpromises. I have said before that Queen Mag was in debt to many a Trinovant merchant. Most of these guildsmen are also Aldermen. They have the Lord Mayor’s ear. What if she whispers that all debts will be settled just as soon as the gates are opened to her, hmm? What then?’

  ‘A powerful incentive that would be to some,’ Will conceded.

  ‘And as we know, a city wall is only as strong as the honesty of the gatemen who guard it. The Duchess Cicely must move tonight – tonight, do you see? Before it is too late!’

  ‘And do what?’

  ‘Why, stir up the people! Rouse them with large tales of what horrors await if the Lord Mayor dares to receive Queen Mag or speaks with her deputation. The merchants’ greed must be offset by the common folk’s fear. I myself shall go out there, even at this hour, to tavern and tower, for the lies that must be spread are urgent!’

  ‘Lies?’ Will said, staggered. ‘But we must hold the truth above all things, mustn’t we? Or has that idea gone by the board too?’

  ‘Lies!’ The wizard’s stare was uncompromising. ‘Indeed, lies! There is no more honest a name for what must be given out. You see, the truth is not always an advisor’s best ally, as you seem childishly to suppose. Folk of every degree are full of vain fancies and self-deceptions. They must be managed.’

  ‘But how can we ever put matters in good order in the world if we fail to carry the truth with us?’ Will said fiercely. ‘Are we to embrace untruths? Are we to take up whatever seems convenient to us at the time? Isn’t this the way of the new world? The way that we should refuse? And if not the truth, then what have we been fighting for all this while?’

  The wizard looked haggard. ‘I do not advocate lies in and of
themselves, Willand, but if you are asking me whether benefits can ever come of untruths or mistaken beliefs, then I must tell you that they certainly can. And if you are asking: does truth matter in the end? then my answer is: not so much as you may suppose. I remember a man back in the old days, a Slaver he was, though he fancied himself to be a Great Healer. He was thought quite mad, though, having once been a soldier and seen too much of death. He told me he had been drawn to healing by one fact and one alone, which was that he had noticed that whenever he looked carefully into the eye of another he found a tiny version of himself looking back. This, he said, showed there was something of himself in every other person, and so other persons, no matter who they were, were worthy of his respect and sympathy.’

  Will grunted. ‘A strange conclusion that. For by such reasoning he would have to keep respect and sympathy for cats and dogs and pools of still water.’

  ‘Quite so. Did I not say he was considered mad?’ Gwydion’s face lit with a bittersweet smile. ‘Though if it be madness to keep respect for cats and dogs and pools of still water, that is a kind of madness of which I can easily approve.’

  Will scowled. ‘Now you’re making fun of me.’

  ‘Only showing you the error of your thoughts. My point was that our self-appointed Great Healer did comfort many folk in his time. So – are we to condemn him for his works?’

  ‘Not for his works, surely,’ Will muttered. ‘But his ideas were still nonsense.’

  ‘Looked at squarely, perhaps,’ Gwydion answered, fussing now with a lantern. ‘But it is not given to many men to look squarely at truth, for truth is as bright and shining as the sun. It may not be viewed directly by ordinary mortals without damage. Now think on that.’

  ‘But I’m not an ordinary mortal,’ Will said, feeling the ground slipping away from under him. ‘I’m just an aspect, one half of an original that was split asunder by fae magic.’

  ‘That is a realization I supposed you would arrive at eventually,’ the wizard said with great deliberateness.