A Skin of a Dragon (The Guild of Gatekeepers Book 1)

by Frances Jones

  'Why?' asked Eliza.

  'Thieves,' I replied.

  Chapter 22

  We tossed our bag of provisions onto the raft and dragged it up the beach, over one of the gentler sand dunes, and hid it as best we could amongst the shrubs and grass.

  The tide was creeping in, and the darkness was almost complete. For a long while we sat in silence, staring into the flames and listening to the hiss and crackle of the fire and the lap of the waves as they collapsed on the shore. Every now and then, I tossed more kindling onto the fire and listened to it snap as the flames devoured the fresh fuel.

  'You must regret ever finding that box on the beach,' said Eliza suddenly.

  I looked up, roused from my thoughts as I absent-mindedly wondered how long the food we had brought would last us.

  'Not entirely,' I replied. 'I'll own that I wish it hadn't been under such circumstances, but I am glad I have met you. Your friendship is recompense, I suppose.'

  Eliza smiled shyly. 'Do you really consider me a friend?' she asked.

  'Of course,' I replied.

  Eliza made no reply and was thoughtful for a while. 'I have never had a friend before,' she said at last.

  'Why not?' I asked, though the answer seemed obvious.

  'The Guild,' Eliza replied. 'I was taught by my father, so I never went to school. In church, we always sit apart from non-Guild members. All the other members took apprentices when I was only an infant, so I never had much to do with them.'

  'How did your father become a member?' I asked.

  'My parents married when they were sixteen. They were extremely poor, but my father managed to secure a job in a tailor's shop in Blackfriars. It wasn't much, but it was something. One day, a gentleman came in to purchase a new shirt and breeches. My father noted that he wore a golden signet ring engraved with a butterfly on his right forefinger. The man insisted on waiting while his purchases were altered by the tailor and questioned my father concerning himself.

  'My father told him that he had a young wife and a baby daughter who was sick because the room they lived in had no glass at the window, and he was too poor to buy any, and so there was nothing for it but to hang a rag up at the window to mitigate the bitter winter draughts and huddle around the fire when he could afford to buy firewood. The gentleman listened closely without saying a word then left with his purchases.

  'As my father closed the shop that evening and made his way back to the boarding house where he and my mother were living, the same gentleman stepped out from a doorway and approached my him. He told my father that he was a weaver for a secret group and offered him the opportunity to become his apprentice and lift his wife and baby daughter out of poverty on the condition he forsake his old life, family, friends and acquaintances. Having no surviving family to consider but my mother and me, my father gladly accepted the offer and moved us into the Gatehouse that night. It seemed to him that all his problems were finally resolved, but the winter of 1634 was a bitter one, and my mother was already weak from nursing me. She died a few weeks later when I was two months old.

  'My father was distraught at the loss of his young wife. He wove her burial shroud, and she was buried in the churchyard of St. Mary's. He was left to bring me up alone while also working as the Vestarian's apprentice. For the next eight years he worked tirelessly, learning all he could about magic. He practised his craft in the weaving room by day and studied in the library and taught me my letters by night. He was determined to become the best apprentice ever to demonstrate his gratitude to the Vestarian for the mercy he showed him on that winter evening eight years before. But in November of that year, the Vestarian died.

  'My father then became a fully initiated member and the new Vestarian. I remember peeping through the door of the initiation chamber during the rites and deciding there and then that I wanted to be the next Vestarian after him. I petitioned my father about it the next day, but he refused. The old Vestarian had shown him mercy and allowed him to bring me and my mother to the Gatehouse to reside with him, but ordinarily apprentices must be unattached and forsake all friends and family. My father had been careful to prevent me from learning too much about the Guild, so I would be free to leave and marry when I grew up. He intended to send me into the service of a wealthy family when I reached the age of ten, but I didn't want that. I wanted to become his apprentice and the first female Vestarian. Bridget Blyth had not long become the Guild's illusionist, and she petitioned my father on my behalf. At last he relented, and I was initiated when I was nine years old- the youngest apprentice ever.'

  'Does it not bother you- having your life dictated by the Guild?' I asked.

  'No,' replied Eliza. 'Is that not the way of it for most people except the very rich? Wasn't your life mapped out for you before you found the box and were brought to London? You would have become a fisherman, taken a wife and had children just as your father did and probably back through all the generations of your family. We do not have the luxury of choice. Our lives are dictated by our circumstances whether we are aware of it or not.'

  'I suppose so,' I replied thoughtfully. I hadn't really considered my life in that way before, and it was somewhat depressing to think of.

  'Well,' said Eliza wrapping herself in her blankets and rolling onto her side with her back to the fire. 'To be sure, I never thought I would find myself a friend. I for one am glad you found the box. Goodnight, Tom.'

  'Goodnight, Eliza.'

  Chapter 23

  It was still dark when I woke to the sound of voices further up the beach. I opened my eyes and rolled onto my front, shuffling up to the top of the sand dune to peer through the gorse. The moon had risen and glowed down upon the sea, silhouetting the ship against the sky. Ribbons of cloud drifted slowly past, giving it a strange and eerie appearance.

  The fire had died, and the smouldering remains offered little warmth. I shivered and strained to hear what the voices said. Suddenly, a lantern was uncovered, and four men could be seen standing no more than a hundred yards away. They were smugglers, I had little doubt, and they were looking out at the ship anchored only five hundred yards from the beach.

  'Do you think it has been abandoned?' asked one of the men.

  'No,' replied another. 'Its mast and sails are intact, see? Who would abandon a perfectly good ship so close to the shore? It is a mighty fine vessel, though. Full of booty, no doubt. Its crew won't be far away. I'll warrant they are hiding in the sand dunes.'

  'I say we find 'em, rob and kill 'em, then come back in the morning and tow it to shore and claim it under salvage,' said a third man.

  There followed some muttering as the men fanned out to search the sand dunes. In the lantern light, the long blade of a knife gleamed in the hand of one of the men.

  I scrambled back down the dune as fast as I dared and shook Eliza awake. She groaned and rubbed her eyes.

  'It's not morning yet,' she moaned.

  'Shhh! There are robbers on the beach,' I whispered. 'If they find us, they will kill us to claim the ship. We need to get out of here fast.'

  'The life raft!' whispered Eliza, fully awake in a moment. 'All our supplies are in it!'

  Crawling along on our fronts, we made our way to where we had left the raft a little further up the dunes. I hardly dared breathe as the orange glow of the lantern swept past us and almost cast its light upon us more than once.

  'I don't like this,' said the fourth man who had so far remained silent. ''Tis all a bit uncanny, and on All Souls’ Eve as well. What if it is a ghost ship? I have heard tales of such, and any who try to board them are cursed till the end of their days.'

  'You are a fool, Mullins,' said the first man. 'That ain't no ghost ship! 'Tis as real as you or me. Shut up your whining and get searching.'

  Mullins said nothing, evidently cowed by the other man who appeared to be the ring leader. He wandered up to the sand dune where Eliza and I hid just a stone's throw from the raft.

  'Why didn't we take Mr. Ellery's optic
s shroud with us?' I chastised myself. 'It would be useful right now.'

  Mullins took a few furtive steps towards us and peered into the darkness. Eliza and I pressed ourselves closer to the side of the dune, but Mullins' unease wasn't so easily assuaged by the other man's reproach. He glanced about but would go no further.

  'Nothing up here,' he called to the others as he walked back down to the beach.

  I touched Eliza's hand and gestured for her to stay as I crawled to the life raft. The men's voices were getting closer.

  'Get back up there, Mullins, there ain't no way you've looked properly.'

  Mullins appeared over the top of the sand dune, carrying his lantern. The life raft was mere feet away, and he was getting closer. With trembling hands, I groped about for a stone or large shell. My fingers closed over the smooth, cold mass of a flat pebble, and in one move I tossed it into the dunes away to the left. It landed with a soft thud in the sand.

  At once, Mullins turned his lantern in the direction of the sound and peered a little harder into the darkness. In the silence, my heartbeat sounded like a drum in my ears. I hardly dared breathe as he turned then stopped and looked back to the dune where I hid. Perhaps he caught the sound of my breathing or the barely perceptible flap of my cloak in the breeze, but he hesitated for a moment before re-affirming that there definitely was no one there.

  As he walked away, I peeped out from the edge of the dune and saw Eliza still huddled against the next sand dune. Above her, another of the men was approaching. In a few seconds, he would see her. I beckoned her, but she couldn't see me in the darkness. The man was getting closer. I felt for another pebble and tossed it away into the dunes where Mullins had gone to explore. It landed with a loud rustle in the midst of a tangle of thorny shrubs. The man stopped and immediately started back the way he had come to investigate the noise.

  'Here!' I whispered to Eliza when the man was out of earshot.

  We crawled the final few yards to the life raft and climbed inside. There was nowhere else to hide but within the general cover of the shrubs we had hidden it in. Across the beach, the men could still be heard talking to one another, and their lanterns bobbed this way and that as they searched the sand dunes.

  'Someone has been here for sure,' called one of the men to his companions. 'They've left a fire.' The three other men went over to him to examine the remains of the fire.

  'Whoever it was is long gone by now, I'll warrant,' said the first man. 'And if they weren't, they'll have left hearing all the noise you three have made. Let's just come back in the morning.'

  There was some muttering from the others, but it seemed they had reached a decision. Eliza and I watched as they made their way back down the beach before vanishing into the darkness. We waited until their voices fell silent, hardly daring to hope that the danger had passed, before climbing out of the raft.

  'My nerves are in shreds,' whispered Eliza.

  'They won't be far away,' I said. 'They'll be watching the ship till morning to make sure no one else gets to it before they do. We must leave now. Help me drag the raft back out.'

  Beneath the cover of our cloaks, which offered some camouflage with the general darkness, we hauled the raft over the dunes, down the beach and back into the water. I took up the paddle as Eliza glanced behind. Away beyond the beach, the flicker of a lantern could just be seen.

  Chapter 24

  Dawn was still a few hours off as we took to the open sea once more. Still the compass pointed west further and further along the south coast of England.

  'We shall hit Dorset waters soon if we continue on this course,' I thought, but I said nothing to Eliza as we sailed through the remainder of the night.

  Away in the east, the sky was pink and saffron. The last stars blanched in the pale light of dawn as the sun rose above the rim of the world.

  'I have never seen a sun rise,' said Eliza, gazing out across the sea and shielding her eyes against the light.

  'I have seen some beautiful ones,' I murmured. I thought of home and the people there who would be missing me.

  'You are lucky,' said Eliza. 'London is so dirty and, well, wooden. I imagined all places were like it. I had no idea there was so much greenery in the country. See how it stretches out as far as we can see!'

  'Yes, 'tis very different in the country,' I replied. 'I felt the same when I first came to London.' I was remembering the moment I stepped off the ship onto the docks and saw the mist on the river, the dirty brown water, and the bustle of people all around me.

  As we spoke, I noticed a black speck in the sky gradually coming closer.

  'What's that?' I said as I squinted into the rising sun.

  'I think it's a thrush,' replied Eliza.

  'What would a thrush be doing out at sea? They are land birds,' I said.

  'Wait and see; it looks like it's coming towards us,' replied Eliza.

  Sure enough, the bird was heading straight for the ship. In a few moments it swept down from the sky and landed on the wheel before me.

  'It has something in its beak!' I exclaimed.

  'What is it?' asked Eliza.

  ''Tis a note from George!' I cried as I unfolded the slip of paper and skimmed through the words written upon it.

  'What does it say?' asked Eliza. She craned her neck to see over my shoulder and read the words written in George's distinctive hand.

  1st November 1648

  Dear Eliza and Tom,

  It is my pleasure to introduce you to my new companion, Bill, who has already proved himself an excellent courier, having acquired pen and paper for me to write to you. However, the news I must share is not good, I fear. Unsurprisingly, your absence has not gone unnoticed, and needless to say, it did not take much thought on Devere’s part to conclude the reason for your disappearance. He is furious. He visited today and was barely able to conceal his rage. I fear he will not hesitate to put forth all his power and resource into finding you and hindering your purpose, for he will have Parliamentarian forces at his command with just a word to Cromwell. Yet I fear that is not the worst of it; Devere has awakened from its long slumber upon White Horse Hill the Shadow Horse, the last living creature of pure magic in this world, and the very same from which the hair that an initiate’s pledge is weighed against. It is a bold move, for it was decreed by the founding Guild members that the Shadow Horse should only be awoken if the very existence of magic is in peril, and to do so is a dangerous and complex ritual. Yet it is proof of Devere’s determination to get what he desires, for once set upon the trail of magic, the Shadow Horse will go to the ends of the earth to find it.

  Naturally, this news alters the situation dramatically and makes my position and yours even more precarious than before. For my own part, Devere no longer needs me to disclose the location of the dragonskin. I cannot speculate what he intends to do with me now, but he is not an impulsive man. I suspect he will not dispose of me quite yet, certainly not until he has the dragonskin in his keeping, but I cannot be sure. Thus, I will do all I can to aid you for as long as I am able, and I will continue to write to you with any news I can glean, though you will appreciate that this will be limited. Bill will carry my messages and will find you wherever you are. He has also carried messages to some of my friends and trusted associates outside the Guild whom I have called upon to assist you as they are able.

  Your journey is now more urgent than ever, and speed is our only hope against such powerful pursuers. Therefore, I urge you to hasten with all speed to Other England and do not tarry there. I have learned the King is now in the custody of Colonel Robert Hammond in Carisbrooke Castle on the Isle of Wight, so I urge you to make your way there with the dragonskin without delay. It would seem that Cromwell has been emboldened by Devere's assurances, and I fear he may act against His Majesty soon. I will write to you again if I learn more and am able. Until then, I wish you good speed.'

  At the bottom, the note was signed with George's elaborate signature.

  'What are w
e to do?' cried Eliza. 'Poor George! What if Devere kills him?'

  'We can only hope he doesn't,' I said, 'but see, George is resourceful; look how he has got this message to us. Don't give up hope yet. We have had a good head start, and it seems we will need it with the Shadow Horse and Cromwell’s men at our heels. The best we can do for George is to get the dragonskin and deliver it up to His Majesty as quickly as possible.’

  Eliza nodded, but I could see the tears sparkling in her eyelashes.

  'Can we reach Other England before the Shadow Horse?' she whispered as though she was asking a question she dared not.

  'I don't know,' I replied. 'I don't know how much further we have to travel. If you mean can we sail any faster, that depends on the wind. It is in our favour at the moment, but that may not last. We should cover as much water as we can while it lasts because we could be drifting for days if the wind drops.'

  Eliza nodded and sat beside me at the helm, staring out at the endless expanse of water ahead of us. Her face was etched with worry, but Bill seemed perfectly content perched upon the wheel and showed little sign he intended to leave. For a long while he remained where he was, grooming his feathers or gazing out to sea, then suddenly he took flight and was gone.

  'I wish I had brought pen and ink and paper to send a message back to George,' murmured Eliza.

  For the next few days, the wind and current carried us swiftly along, but the clear weather had soon turned to drizzle and mist. The sails were full, and the coastline passed us by in an endless procession of beaches and rock faces dotted here and there with sheltered coves and smugglers’ caves cleverly hidden from the view of the cliffs above. The landscape of the coast was beginning to look more familiar to me, and I guessed the rocky cliffs and golden beaches of Dorset weren't far away.

  'I wonder how George and Emerson coped with their voyages across the world. We have been at sea barely three days, and I am already quite sick of it,' complained Eliza. 'I wish we knew how much further we have to go before we reach Other England. I cannot sit and do nothing while George is in grave danger.'