Second Night (22 page)

She raised her hand. ‘Master?'

Sir Jonas bowed his head in her direction. ‘Guardian Keeper of Heath and Keys.'

‘Since the first visitation it was agreed that new clothing and equipment should be provided for each vigil. Does Council still support this decision?'

‘I would say it is imperative in view of the need to preserve all evidence of contact,' said John.

‘Aye to that,' agreed Alan.

Charles Fordham-Marshall nodded. ‘This must include whatever arms and armour the participants wish to bear. Master, do you have any preferences?'

‘I shall be content to bear my grandfather's sword as before,' said Sir Jonas. He pointed to Caz's mail tunic. ‘I doubt I would be able to even stand up in such a magnificent piece of craftsmanship. However, in view of likely injury, perhaps it would be wise to consider something lighter. Guardian Armourer, what do you think?'

‘I've got a good supply of leather and steel,' Alan replied. ‘I could put together a breastplate and a couple of helmets. Nothing fancy but better than going without.'

‘I've already got a helmet,' remarked Caz.

‘I'll do you a fresh one for Hag Night. Has either of you thought about shields?'

‘Not for me,' Sir Jonas answered. ‘Again, it is a question of weight and agility. I agree that it was a mistake to confront visitation without protective headgear, but I fear it is too late for me to consider carrying a shield. The sword will suffice.'

‘I'll think about it,' said Caz.

‘And Guardian Spear-Bearer needs two new cloaks,' said Daisy firmly.

‘Why?' Caz asked.

‘Because you'll be needing a new one for the vigil and we might as well make up a spare for whatever else you get up to. Then perhaps the one you've got on'll get to see soap and water more than once a month!'

He grinned. ‘Does the tab extend to new boots as well? These are getting a bit tight.'

She peered over her glasses at Charles Fordham-Marshall. ‘How say you, Guardian Keeper of Hall and Treasury?'

Charles inclined his head towards her. ‘Whatever Guardian Keeper of Hearth and Keys considers appropriate.'

‘New boots it is then. We'll get Mister Jones back down here to measure up before he takes the order. Although if Guardian Spear-Bearer doesn't stop growing soon, he'll be a beanstalk.'

The black mouth widened into its most charming smile. ‘I'll always be a magic one, I promise you.'

‘Just as long as you keep your feet firmly on the ground,' observed Alan. ‘That's what matters most.'

CHAPTER 37

‘We have yet to discuss the arrangements for the horses for Hag Night, Master,' said John.

Caz interrupted. ‘That's easily sorted. Only Kyri goes over this time.'

Sir Jonas sat up, frowning. ‘And what of Freyja?'

‘She stays here.'

‘What nonsense is this?' the old man demanded.

‘Kyri is one of the Galdramerar. She can carry us both, no problem.'

‘Absolutely not!'

‘Okay, then I'll go on foot and you can ride Kyri.'

The blue eye blazed. ‘To undertake such a venture on the back of an animal that has never been trained to accept a saddle and bridle would be madness at my age! Unthinkable!'

‘Aye to that,' said Daisy.

‘You don't have to ride Kyri,' said Caz. ‘She carries you. It's as simple as that.'

‘It's out of the question!' snapped the old man.

‘No, it's not! You've lost your eye, you've done what you had to do and that nearly killed you, and Freyja too. She doesn't deserve this! She's one of Bryn's line! Why must you insist on sacrificing her as well?'

Sir Jonas lurched to his feet. He crossed the chamber to the edge of the rune circle, shaking his fist at Caz.

‘I was the Guardian's chosen warrior!' he cried. ‘I was sworn to win the runes long before either you or your father was born, young impudence! I must be mounted! The chanter sings and I must have my time!'

‘Aye to that,' intoned Charles Fordham-Marshall.

Caz leapt up, the spear in his hand. The blue stone glowed between them.

‘Then I will challenge for Freyja before the God!' he shouted. ‘She will not be sacrificed!'

Alan drew his sword. ‘Master! Guardians! I would remind you of the sanctity of this place and of our order. Violence in thought, word or deed is forbidden in Council.' He took Caz's arm. ‘Sit down, boy. Getting heated solves nothing.'

Sir Jonas bowed. ‘Thank you for your timely reminder, Guardian Armourer.' His head swam. His heart was throbbing against his ribs as though it would burst. Caz watched him closely as Charles Fordham-Marshall helped him back to his chair.

‘Look at you!' he said scornfully. ‘You're not fit for the vigil either. You should stay here too, and let me and Kyri go alone.'

‘Aye to that,' answered Daisy emphatically.

Sir Jonas shook his head. ‘Freyja will bear us both beyond death, if that's how it must be,' he gasped.

‘That's what you think!' said Caz, disgusted. ‘You didn't see what I saw!'

‘So what did you see?' asked Charles Fordham-Marshall, still smarting from the previous encounter and determined to press his point.

The white face stared at the dark face. ‘If you're so interested in what happens at World Tree, go yourself and see how much you like it.'

Charles sighed audibly.

Sir Jonas drew himself up. ‘Freyja will bear me before the God and let the Fates decide as they have always done. I will have my time. I will not be denied.'

Caz gripped the edge of the chair, willing himself to remain seated.

‘You won't be satisfied until all the mares are dead, will you?' he said bitingly. ‘Or have you conveniently forgotten Mista? She was the first to be hagridden and she died after the second time.'

‘We can hardly forget the foundation mare of the bloodline,' remarked Guardian Keeper of Hall and Treasury dryly.

‘So what's it going to be?' Caz demanded. ‘Freyja dead this time and Rúna the next?'

‘The mare shouldn't have to go over again,' put in Alan. ‘I saw the state she was in when she came back last time and I've seen the state she's been in since. We've already lost one good mare and we're getting too thin on the ground in the paddocks. We can't afford to lose another one while there's no young stock to bring on. We can't risk losing that bloodline.'

‘Aye to that,' said Daisy.

‘Then what are you suggesting?' asked Sir Jonas. ‘That we avoid visitation until we have bred a replacement? It could take years!'

Charles Fordham-Marshall looked around the circle. ‘I move that we vote on this, Master,' he suggested.

‘Proceed.'

‘I move that the mare Freyja keep the Hag Night Vigil as the accepted mount of Master Sir Jonas Pring. Guardians, how say you?'

‘Seconded,' echoed John.

The others remained silent.

Sir Jonas sighed. ‘Once again Council is divided. Yet we have no choice, we must reach resolution on this matter. Guardian Armourer has already stated his case for disapproval before Council. Guardian Keeper of Hearth and Keys, what say you?'

Daisy answered. ‘Only that I've heard and seen enough about the mare's behaviour to doubt whether she would be a safe mount for the Master under the circumstances of visitation. Why not prepare Rúna in her place?'

Alan sat very still. ‘It's a question of maturity as well as training for a mare to survive the vigil,' he said quietly.

‘Guardian Spear-Bearer and Second Horsemaster, what is your response?' asked Sir Jonas.

Caz shrugged. ‘You're number one, I'm only the Second Horsemaster. Anything I say counts for nothing.'

‘On the contrary, Second Horsemaster's opinion is equally valid before Council. I ask you again, according to your
professional
opinion, would Rúna make a suitable replacement for her mother in the face of visitation?'

Caz looked at the floor. He could only tell the truth. ‘Mares need more than their fair share of courage and stamina to survive Hag Night,' he answered reluctantly. ‘Bryn didn't flinch, not once. She fought and died but she was found worthy. She was praised. Guardian Armourer is right. Rúna's not ready. She won't make it.' He felt Alan relax beside him.

‘And the other mare?' asked Charles Fordham-Marshall. ‘She's of the same bloodline, albeit three generations removed.'

‘She's too far removed and too placid. If my offer to go on foot is refused, then there's no alternative but to prepare Freyja.'

He flexed his fingers, feeling the rapidly healing scar tissue on his left hand stretch and snap. Drops of dark blood wetted his palm.
And so I betray her too,
he thought. He locked defiant eye contact with the old man. ‘But if she comes through, I move that she's to be rested and sent to stud, to Kyri's sire. We don't even consider risking her at World Tree a third time!'

‘Seconded,' said Alan immediately.

‘Aye to that,' said Daisy.

Charles Fordham-Marshall turned to Sir Jonas. ‘Master, how say you?'

The old man cleared his throat. ‘I say that we lack sufficient evidence and information to come to a well reasoned decision regarding Freyja's future this side of Hag Night. I move that we defer the motion until the February meeting.'

‘Seconded,' responded John.

‘Aye to that,' agreed Daisy.

‘Aye to that,' said Alan quietly.

‘Do you accept deferment, Guardian Spear-Bearer?' asked Charles Fordham-Marshall. There was no mistaking the note of smug satisfaction in his voice.

‘It'll do for now, but Freyja will have to come back unmarked for me to change my mind. Unmarked! Remember that in your records, Guardian Archivist!'

‘It'll be noted,' said John.

‘And I'll be on watch at Thunderslea,' said Alan. ‘This time I'll be armed.'

Sir Jonas stood up, holding the silver chalice. ‘Is Council agreed and beyond dispute?'

The Guardians signalled their agreement by silently sheathing their knives and letting their hoods fall over their faces.

‘In deference to Guardian Spear-Bearer's exemption from the Oath of Allegiance, we have agreed to forgo the rite of fealty customary for us all at the initiation of a new candidate, but I move that we share the traditional stirrup cup before parting, if such action does not further jeopardise his warrior vows?'

Caz looked up. ‘It doesn't,' he said, surprised at the look of pure enmity that flashed momentarily in the blue eye.

‘Very well.' The Master spoke the traditional words of parting. ‘Go with the blessing of all good men, that the High One look well upon you and favour you, and be not treacherous.'

The Guardians answered with one voice. ‘Aye to that and good hunting!'

The robed and hooded figures filed clockwise around the circle, each taking a mouthful of the sacred mead before they left the Council Chamber. Caz laid the spear over his shoulder and fell into step at the end of the line. The Master's blue eye was benign as he took the cup, but he wasn't fooled.

Yes, there is always the risk of treachery,
he thought.
I must remain vigilant.

Sir Jonas was the last to leave. He pressed his stick into the shallow recess in the floor beside his chair. The rune circle and the sea-blue stone sank out of sight. The two halves of the ring of grey flagstones slid together, rose to floor level and locked into place. He extinguished the candles one by one, leaving the last bright flame to gutter, almost spent, in a pool of molten wax.

He stood before the image of the God to make his final salute. Council was concluded and he was vowed to do everything in his power to bring Guardian Spear-Bearer once more to the Place of Judgement beneath World Tree, where each of their dearest wishes would be granted. The sacrifice would be made and the favoured would be free to ride his Galdramerr far into forever, never to return to the Shadowed World – while he, Jonas, Master of the Guardians, would receive the Runes of the Deathless from the hands of the Valkyrs and come home triumphant with the great culmination of his life's work gloriously accomplished.

‘I am the chosen warrior,' he whispered. ‘I will have my time.'

The blue eye gleamed. The light went out.

NOVEMBER

CHAPTER 38

The image of a raven plummeting down towards an unsuspecting prey flashed into Caz's consciousness, taking his attention from the floor exercises he was doing. Sensing danger, he closed his eyes, hunting the source. It was a skill he had yet to perfect.

He focused his awareness on Kyri and the manor. She was in the paddock, alert but calm. The danger wasn't immediate. It wasn't local. There was nothing going on in the forest, but it was something to do with whatever was happening at the house. He continued the exercises, frustrated at his lack of vision, while his mother answered the phone in the office.

‘Meane Manor House, good afternoon,' she said confidently.

An unknown female voice with a West-Country accent replied. ‘Could I speak with Mrs Madeleine Wylde, please?'

Maddie stiffened. ‘Speaking.'

‘I'm calling from Plymouth General Hospital. I'm afraid Mr Franklin Wylde was admitted as an emergency case early this morning.'

Maddie felt her heart shrink to an intangible point in the middle of her chest. She swallowed hard. ‘Why? What's the matter with him?'

‘I'm sorry to tell you that he is very seriously ill.'

‘How serious?'

‘He may not have long to live. If you wish to see him it would be best if you came as soon as possible.'

‘Could you give me a minute, please?'

‘Yes, of course.'

Maddie thought rapidly. Her father-in-law shouldn't be left to die alone. They would all have to go, Caz included, whatever he might say to the contrary. Jemima would hate it, but hopefully Jasper's sense of family duty would overcome the antipathy they all felt towards their father's father. Alan would take care of the horses and Sara would look after the cats – but the office renovations had held up a lot of work and Daisy's long overdue weekend off would have to be cancelled.