The Spook's Battle: Book 4

by Joseph Delaney

  She shook her head. "Within days Nowell will be dead and the whole district will be in our hands. So there'll be nobody around to accuse you. Just leave it all to me. All you have to do is give me those keys. It's as simple as that."It was my turn to smile. This was her best chance so far to take the keys by force. I was alone and at her mercy. That she didn't do so convinced me that she couldn't. "That's exactly what I have to do, isn't it?" I asked. "I have to give you the keys. You can't just take them."Wurmalde scowled with displeasure. "Remember what I told you last night?" she warned. "If you won't do it to save yourself, then at least do it for your family. Give methe keys or all three of them will die!"At that moment, somewhere within the house, a clock started to chime. She stared at me until the final stroke of midnight."Well, boy? You've had the time you demanded. Now give me your answer!""No," I said firmly. "I won't give you the keys."

  "Then you know the consequences of that decision," she said softly, before leaving the cell. The key turned in the lock, and I heard her walking away. Then there was only silence and darkness. I was left alone with my thoughts, and never had they been darker.My decision had just cost my family their lives. But what else could I have done? I couldn't let the contents of Mam's trunks fall into the hands of the covens. The Spook had taught me that my duty to the County came before everything else.It was just a year and three months or so since I'd been happily working with my dad back on the farm. At the time, the work had seemed boring, but now I'd havegiven anything to be back there again with Dad still alive, Mam at home, and Jack and Ellie safe.At that moment I wished that I'd never seen the Spook and never become his apprentice. I sat in the cell and wept.

  Chapter 12

  The Army Arrives

  When the cell was next unlocked, Constable Barnes came into the room carrying a wooden board. It was edged with metal and had two holes in it to put my hands through. I'd once seen a man placed in the stocks, and a similar device had been used to clamp his wrists, holding him to the spot while a crowd pelted him with rotten fruit."Hold out your hands!" Barnes commanded.As I obeyed, he opened the hinged board and then closed the two halves over my wrists and locked it with a key, which he placed in his breeches pocket. The board was heavy and clamped my wrists tightly so that there was no chance of pulling my hands free."Make the slightest attempt to escape, and you'll go in leg irons as well. Do I make myself clear?" the constable demanded aggressively, his face close to mine.I nodded miserably, feeling close to despair."We'll be meeting Master Nowell at the tower. Once we've battered through the walls you'll be taken to Caster to hang with the rest. Though to my mind, hanging's too good for a priest killer!"

  Barnes gripped me by the shoulder and pushed me out into the corridor, where Cobden had been lurking just out of sight, a heavy cudgel in his hand. No doubt he'd been hoping I'd try to run for it. The two men led me out through a rear door to where the cart was waiting. The constable's bailiffs were already sitting in the back, andthey both stared at me hard. One spat on my shirtfront as I struggled to climb aboard.Five minutes later we were through the main gates of Read Hall and heading for Goldshaw Booth and Malkin Tower beyond.When we reached the tower, Nowell wasn't alone. With him were five mounted soldiers wearing jackets of County red that, even before we reached the clearing, made them highly visible. As our cart trundled toward them, one rider dismounted and began to walk around the tower, peering up at the stone edifice as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.Cobden brought the cart to a halt close to the horsemen."This is Captain Horrocks," Nowell told Barnes, nodding at a stocky man with a ruddy complexion and a small, neat black mustache."Good morning to you, Constable," said Horrocks, then turned his gaze to me. "Well, is this the boy Master Nowell's been telling me about?""This is the lad," Barnes said. "And others like him are inside that tower."

  "Don't you fear," said Captain Horrocks. "We'll soon breach that wall. The cannon -will be here at any moment. It's the biggest gun in the County, and it'll make short -work of the business! We'll soon call those scoundrels to account."That said, the captain wheeled his horse round and led his men in a slow circuit of Malkin Tower. The magistrate and Barnes followed.The following hours passed slowly. I was sick to my heart and close to despair. I had failed to rescue my family and had to accept that they -were probably being tortured or were dead inside that tower. There was no hope of Alice reaching me now, and soon I'd be on my -way to Caster -with any who managed to survive the bombardment of the tower. What hope did I have of a fair trial then?Late in the morning a huge cannon arrived, pulled by a team of six big shire horses. It was a long cylindrical barrelsupported on a gun carriage with two large wooden wheels rimmed with metal. The gun was brought into position quite close to our cart, and soon the soldiers had unhitched the horses and led them some distance away back among the trees. Next they began to attend to the gun, using a lever and ratchet to raise the cannon's mouth higher and higher until they were satisfied. Then they put their shoulders to the wheels and positioned the carriage so that the barrel was pointing more directly toward the tower.

  Barnes rode back to us. "Get the boy down and take the cart back to where the others are," he instructed Cobden. "The captain says the horses are too near. The noise of the gun will drive 'em mad with fright."The two bailiffs dragged me down and made me sit on the grass while Cobden took the horses and cart and followed Barnes to join the others.Soon another cart arrived, this one loaded with cannon-balls, two big tubs of water, and a great heap of small canvas bags of gunpowder. All the gunners, bar thesergeant in charge, took off their red jackets, rolled up their sleeves, and set to unloading the cart, piling the ammunition carefully to form neat pyramids on either side of the gun. When the first tub of water was lifted down, the bailiff to my right joked, "Thirsty work, is it, lads?""This is to clean and cool the cannon!" one of the gunners called back, giving him a withering look. "It's an eighteen-pounder, this, and without the water it'd soon overheat and explode. You wouldn't want that to happen, now would you? Not with you sitting so close!"

  The bailiff exchanged a look with his companion. Neither of them seemed at ease.The unloading completed, that cart was also taken back into the trees, and soon after that Captain Horrocks and Nowell rode close by, heading in the same direction."Whenyou're ready, sergeant!" Horrocks called down to the gunners as he cantered past. "Just fire at will. But take this chance to sharpen up your skills. Make every shot count. As likely as not, *we'll soon be up against a much more dangerous foe." As the two men rode out of earshot, the bailiff, undaunted by his previous exchange with the gunner, couldn't resist speaking up again. "Dangerous foe?" he asked. "What did he mean by that?""That's not really any of your business," the sergeant said with a swagger. "But since you ask, there's talk of an invasion south of the County. Chances are we'll have a more serious battle to fight than this little siege. But not a word to anyone, or I'll cut your throat and feed you to the crows." The sergeant turned away again. "Right, lads. Load up! Let's show the captain what we can do!"A gunner lifted one of the canvas bags and pushed it into the mouth of the cannon while his companion used a long rod to ram it down deep into the barrel. Another picked up a cannonball from the nearest pile and rolled it down into the barrel, ready for firing.

  The sergeant turned our way again and spoke to the bailiff on my left, the one who'd kept silent. "Ever heard a big gun like this go off?" he asked.The bailiff shook his head. "Well, it's loud enough to burst your eardrums. You need to cover them like this!" he instructed, clapping his hands over his ears. "But if I were you, I'd walk back about a hundred paces or so. The lad won't be able to cover his ears, 'will he?" He looked at my wrists, still clamped apart by the wooden board."Bit o' noise won't matter much to this lad. Not where he's going. Murdered a priest, he did, and he'll hang before the month's out.""Well, in that case it won't do no harm to give him a small dose of hell to be going on with!" said the sergeant, staring at me with open disgust as he strutted back to the cannon and gave the order to fire. One
of the soldiers lit a reed fuse protruding from the top of the gun and then stood well clear with his companions. As it burned lower, the gunners covered their ears and the two bailiffs followed suit.The noise of the cannon going off "was like a thunderclap right next to me. The gun carriage jerked back about four paces, and the shot hurtled through the air toward the tower, howling like a banshee. It fell into the moat, throwing up a spout of water as a great flock of crows soared out of the trees in the distance.

  A cloud of smoke hung in the air about the cannon, and as the gunners went to work again, it was like watching them through a November fog.First they adjusted the elevation, then they cleaned the inside of the barrel with rods and sponges, which they kept dipping into the tubs of water. Eventually they fired again. This time the thunderclap felt even louder, but strangely I no longer heard the flight of the shot through the air. Nor did I hear it strike Malkin Tower. But I did see it hit the wall low down, throwing up splinters to shower back into the moat.How long this went on I couldn't say. At one point the bailiffs had a short conversation. I could see their lips moving, but I couldn't hear a word they were saying. The sound of the gun had deafened me. I just hoped it wouldn't be permanent. Smoke hung all around us now, and I had an acrid taste at the back of my throat. The pauses between firings grew longer and longer as the gunners spent more time using sponges on the barrel, which was no doubt starting to overheat.At last the bailiffs must have grown weary of being so close to the gun. They dragged me to my feet and walked me back a hundred paces, as the sergeant had advised. After that it wasn't so bad, and gradually, in the delays between firing, I reahzed that my hearing was coming back. I could hear the howl of the shot through the air and the crack of the iron ball striking the stones of Malkin Tower. The gunners knew their job, all right --each shot struck approximately the same point on the wall, but as yet I could see no evidence that it was being breached. Then there was another delay. They ran out of cannon-balls, and the wagon bringing a fresh supply didn't arrive until late in the afternoon. By then I was thirsty and asked one of the bailiffs for a drink of the water they were swigging from a stone jug brought by one of the soldiers.

  "Aye, help yourself, lad," he laughed. Of course, I couldn't lift the jug, and when I knelt down close to it, intending to lick beads of water from its neck, he simply moved it out of reach and warned me to sit back down or he'd give me a thumping.By sunset my mouth and throat were parched. Nowell had already ridden back in the direction of Read Hall. The failing light had halted work for the day and, leaving one young gunner on duty guarding the cannon, the others made a fire back among the trees and were soon busy cooking supper. Captain Horrocks had also ridden off, no doubt to find a comfortable bed for the night. The horsemen had remained to share the supper.The bailiffs dragged me back into the trees, but we sat with Barnes and Cobden, some distance away from the soldiers' cooking fire. The bailiffs set to making a fire of their own, but there was nothing to cook on it. After a while one of the soldiers came across and asked if we were hungry."We'd be very grateful if you could spare us a bite," Barnes said. "Thought it would all be over by now and I'd be back at Read tucking into my supper.""That tower's going to take a bit longer than we thought," the soldier replied. "But don't you worry, -we're getting there. Up close you can see the cracks. We'll breach it afore noon tomorrow, and then we'll see some fun."Soon Barnes, Cobden, and the bailiffs were tucking into platefuls of rabbit stew. With knowing -winks they set a plate down on the grass in front of me.

  "Tuck in, boy," Cobden invited, but when I tried to kneel and bring my mouth down close to the plate, it was snatched up and the contents thrown into the fire.They all laughed, thinking it a great joke, and I sat there, hungry and thirsty, -watching it splutter and burn -while they ate. It was getting darker and the cloud had gradually thickened toward sunset. I hadn't much hope of sneaking away because they'd decided to take turns watching me and the soldiers would have their own sentry posted anyway.Half an hour later, Cobden was on guard while the others slept. Barnes was snoring loudly with his mouth wide open. The two bailiffs had nodded off the moment they stretched themselves out on the grass.I didn't even bother trying to sleep. The board fastened to my wrists was tight and starting to hurt, and my head was churning with all the things that had happened--my encounters with Wurmalde and Tibb and my failure to save poor Father Stocks. Cobden had no intention of allowing me to drop off anyway."If I have to stay awake, then so shall you, boy!" he snarled, kicking my legs to drive the point home.After a while, though, it seemed to me that he was having trouble staying awake himself. He kept yawning and pacing about before coming across to give me another kick. It was a long, uncomfortable night but then, about an hour or so before dawn, Cobden sat down on the grass with a glazed expression in his eyes. His head would nod before jerking back to wakefulness, and each time, he glared at me as if it were entirely my fault. After this had happened four or five times, his head dropped onto his chest and he began to snore gently. I looked across toward the soldiers' camp fire. They were some distance away, so I couldn't be absolutely certain, but none of them seemed to be moving. I realized that this was the one chance I might get to escape, but I waited a few more minutes to make sure that Cobden was fast asleep.At last, very slowly, I stood up, afraid to make the slightest noise. But as soon as I was on my feet, to my dismay, I glimpsed something moving in the trees. It -was some distance away, but something gray or white seemed to flicker. Then I saw another movement a little farther to the left. Now I was certain, so I crouched down low. I -was right. Figures were moving toward me through the trees to the south. Could it be more soldiers? Reinforcements? But they didn't march like soldiers. They seemed to glide silently, like ghosts. It was almost as if they were floating.I had to get away before they arrived. The board clamping my -wrists -would affect my balance and make running difficult, but far from impossible. I was about to take a chance when I glimpsed another movement and looked back to see that I was completely surrounded. Shadowy figures were converging on us from all points of the compass. They were nearer now, and I could see that they were clad in black, gray, or white gowns --women with glittering eyes and wild, unkempt hair.They were almost certainly witches, but from which coven? The Malkins were supposed to be inside the tower. Could it be the Deanes? Had there been moonlight, I'd have noticed their weapons earlier. It was only as they moved closer to the fire that I realized that each witch was carrying a long blade in her left hand and something else --as yet unidentifiable--in her right.Had they come to murder us in our sleep? With that dark thought, I realized that I couldn't just run off into the trees and leave my captors to their fates.

  They'd treated me badly, but they didn't deserve to die like this. Constable Barnes wasn't working directly for Wurmalde and probably just thought he was doing his duty. If I woke them up, there was still a chance that, in the confusion, I'd be able to escape. So I nudged Cobden with my foot. When there was no response, I kicked him harder, but again to no avail. Even when I bent and shouted his name right into his ear, he just carried on snoring gently. I tried the same with Barnes, with no more success. At that moment the truth struck me. . . .They'd been poisoned! Just like poor Father Stocks had been at Read Hall. Again, I was all right because I'd eaten nothing. There must have been something in the rabbit stew. How it had gotten there I didn't know, but now it was too late because the nearest witch was no more than fifteen paces away.I tensed, ready to run for it, choosing a space to my right, a gap between the trees that was not blocked by a witch. Then a voice called out to me, one that I recognized. It was the voice of Mab Mouldheel."No need to be scared, Tom. No need to run. Here to help you, we are. We've come to bargain."I turned to watch Mab walk up to the sleeping Cobden. She knelt and lowered her blade toward him. "No!" I protested, horrified by what she was about to do.

  Now, for the first time, I could see what she was holding in her other hand. It was a small metal cup with a long stem--a chalice to collect the blood. The Mouldheels were wit
ches who used blood magic. They were going to take what they needed."We're not going to kill em, Tom!" Mab said, giving me a grim smile. "Don't you worry yourself. We just want a little of their blood, that's all.""No, Mab! Spill just one drop of blood and there'll be no bargain between us. No deal at all."Mab hesitated and looked up at me in astonishment. "What are they to you, Tom? They hurt you, didn't they? And would have taken you to Caster and hanged you without a second thought. And this one belongs to Wurmalde!" she said, spitting down at Cobden."I mean it, Mab!" I said, looking over at the other witches, who were gathering to listen. A second group was moving toward the soldiers' camp, blades at the ready. "I might be prepared to do a deal, but spill one drop of blood and I'll never agree. Call them off. Tell them to stop!"Mab stood up, her eyes sullen.

  Finally she nodded. "All right, Tom, just for you.'' At that, the other Mouldheels turned their backs on the soldiers and slowly returned to join us.It struck me now that the men at my feet could be dying anyway because of the effects of the poison. Witches are skilled at both poisons and antidotes, so there might still be time to save them."There's something else," I told Mab. "You've poisoned these men with that stew. Give them the antidote before it's too late."Mab shook her head. "We put it in the water, not the stew, but it's not going to kill 'em," she said. "We just wanted them asleep while we took some of their blood. They'll wake up with bad heads tomorrow, that's all. I need these lads to be on their mettle in the morning. Need them to keep up the good work and blast a hole in that tower! Now follow me, Tom. Alice is waiting back yonder." "Alice is with you?" I asked in surprise. Mab had said the same thing when she'd lured me from Father Stocks's house. Then, her intention had been to kill Alice."Course she is, Tom. Been negotiating, we have. Lots to do before dawn--if we want to rescue that family of yours.""They're dead, Mab," I said sadly, my eyes starting to brim with tears. "We're too late.""Says who?""Wurmalde was going to have it done if I didn't give her the keys by midnight.""Don't trust her, Tom," Mab said dismissively. "They're still alive. Seen 'em, I have, with my mirror. They're not in a good way, admittedly, so we mustn't waste any time. But you've got a second chance, Tom. I'm here to help."She turned and led the way back through the trees. That day my thoughts had been at a very low ebb. It had hardly seemed possible that I might even save myself, never mind my family. But now I was free and suddenly filled with new hope and optimism. There really was a chance that Jack, Ellie, and Mary were still alive; perhaps we'd be able to bargain with Mab and get her to show us the entrance to the tunnel that led to the dungeons below Malkin Tower.