The Twelve Dragons of Albion

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The Twelve Dragons of Albion Page 27

by Mark Hayden


  I ordered a steak pie rather than the actual steak. Tennille had been very clear about the limits of future expenses claims after our discussion on Monday; “nice” hotels were very much out of bounds unless I was willing to pay for them myself. Given our plans, I stuck to mineral water and wondered how to steer the conversation. While I was wondering, Vicky revealed what had been occupying her thoughts.

  ‘Can we trust Rick? He can’t have been happy with Hannah promoting you like that.’

  ‘Of course he wasn’t happy, but that doesn’t mean he was unhappy. I trust him to do a stand-up job in Newport and not land us in the shit, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s not a bad man, Vicky, he’s just not a leader. I suppose that’s the real reason he didn’t go for the vacant Deputy’s job.’ I took a sip of water. ‘I spoke to the Clerk earlier.’

  ‘Oh. Did Maxine want you to bring some duty-free fags back from Wales? It certainly feels like a foreign country sometimes. D’you know she got in trouble for violation of duty-free rules in Gibraltar last year?’

  ‘No, but I’m not surprised. I’ve been thinking, Vicky, and I asked her how many Watch Captains have died in the line of duty since 1945, and how many Mages have died at the hands of Watch Captains.’

  Vicky put down her fork. ‘Why in Nimue’s name did you ask that? And why are you telling me? And why today, for goodness sake?’

  ‘I was thinking about Iestyn on the way over here. We’re the Law, Vicky. We should have support from every police force in the country 24/7, not just Ruth Kaplan during office hours.’

  ‘That would be nice, Conrad, but it’s not gonna happen, is it?’

  ‘Perhaps it should. Maxine said that between 1945 and 2010, three Watch Captains and five Mages were killed. Since 2010, six Captains have lost their lives, seven with Iestyn. During that time, only one Mage died, plus Deborah and Surwen. Before I came along, that makes a change in ratio from 3:5 to 6:1.’

  She took a drink. ‘I’ve never thought of it like that.’

  ‘No, but Hannah must have. Something’s wrong, Vicky. That’s a significant change in numbers, but I don’t know what it means. Yet.’

  Vicky stared at her rapidly cooling pasta and pushed the plate away; not only had I killed the conversation, I’d put paid to her appetite. We skipped dessert and went to get ready. By the time I’d changed, the confirmation had come through from Gareth. We were good to go.

  ‘Does Dr Nicola know you’ve been raiding her gym bag?’ I asked when Vicky appeared outside. Her outfit was too long in most places and too tight in others. At least it was black.

  She blushed. ‘Aye, well, there was dead lion all over me other stuff. I threw it out. And I got the car valeted – that was another fifty quid. You should give me half for what you just said.’

  I opened the boot of the Mercedes and put in my new cricket bag – it was the only thing that would hold all the bits and pieces I was accumulating. I pushed the button to close the boot and said, ‘There was dead lion, dead mole and dead Watch Captain on mine. That’s what a washing machine is for.’

  ‘Don’t. You’ll make me heave. Who’s driving?’

  ‘Me. When we get close to Nyth Eryr, I need you to watch out for Wards.’

  We got in and I punched the code into the Satnav. Nyth Eryr means Eagle’s Nest in Welsh. Apparently.

  ‘I still don’t see why you made me dress up when the plan is to talk to her,’ said Vicky. ‘It’s alright for you, Mr Outdoor Man.’

  ‘Remember what happened at the Dragon’s Nest. We went in without gathering all the intelligence, and look what happened.’

  ‘You don’t think being led by a turncoat was the problem?’

  ‘If I’d pushed Iestyn harder before we went into the Nest, he’d have given himself away. I want to know all about Adaryn’s hideaway before we drive up to the front door. Besides, I need to test my new dowsing rod.’

  We drove up to Llandeilo, through the little town and out to the north-east. I stopped half a mile from Nyth Eryr, up a country lane and just past a dairy farm.

  ‘There’s a public footpath over there,’ I said, pointing to the right. ‘It’ll take us out of sight of the house.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘I checked the contours on the map. There’s a ridge that’ll hide us.’ I might as well have been speaking Welsh for all that she understood what I’d said. ‘I’m sure there will be a 3D map rendering App in the near future, so why should you learn now when you’ve got me to do it for you?’

  She leaned across and punched my left thigh, because my left shin was out of reach. ‘If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t need to go outside at all. Let’s get on with it.’

  I packed my rucksack and put it on my back. Vicky made sure she had the manilla envelope and her Lightstick. ‘Are you not taking the AK47?’ she asked innocently.

  ‘If anything looks dangerous, I intend to run. I’ve also invested in a close quarter option.’

  ‘I can’t wait.’

  I led us across the road to the stile, and it became abundantly clear that my natural night vision is much, much better than Vicky’s, because she slipped into the ditch.

  ‘Eurgh. Me shoes are all icky and squelchy. Bugger this.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter now, does it? Let me hand you over the stile.’ Once on the footpath, she powered up her Lightstick, and I walked in front until it was time to get out the dowsing rod and cut across the field towards a wood.

  There were no Ley lines before the wood, and I had to lift her over the dry-stone wall.

  ‘We’ll never get through them brambles,’ she moaned. I got out my close-quarter option. ‘My god, Conrad. Is that a machete? That cannot be legal.’

  ‘It is. The blade is less than 50cm, so it’s legal to buy and sell. Carrying it is another matter. I’ll cut a path then come back for you and the dowsing rod. Don’t worry, the brambles will only be at the edge of the wood.’

  I hacked through the undergrowth, and even I had to use a torch after the first few feet. The wood spread all over the hillside about Nyth Eryr, and slap in the middle, my new dowsing rod twitched like a phone on vibrate. ‘Euraka! Brilliant! I’ve found it, Vic.’

  ‘I’m glad one of us is happy with their new toys.’

  ‘I bet Li Cheng’s never taken you on a date like this.’

  She took a swing at my bad leg, missed, and kicked a substantial beech tree. ‘Ow! Me foot! I swear, if I thought for one nano-second that this was a date, you would so be history by now. For the love of the gods, Conrad, does Mina have any idea what she’s letting herself in for?’

  ‘I hope not. Let’s keep quiet, now, shall we, and kill the light? I’m going to follow the Ley line downhill to the boundary of Adaryn’s property.’

  If Chris Kelly had been wielding the yew rod, he’d no doubt have told me the capacity, design and age of the Ley line. All I could do was follow it to a low wall topped with a wire fence. Beyond it, I could sense the land drop away. I stowed the dowsing rod and got out an image-enhancing mono-optic. I stood up and looked down on Nyth Eryr.

  Adaryn hadn’t skimped on landscaping. The natural slope beyond the wall had been terraced into … terraces. With seats. I passed the scope to Vicky.

  ‘What the fuck’s all this?’ she whispered.

  ‘A natural amphitheatre. I reckon she’s planning to unveil it as her personal concert venue and – if it’s possible – create a new Locus Lucis.’

  ‘It’s possible, alright. What’s that by the house?’

  ‘Concrete footings. I reckon that’s where the stage will be and maybe a green room or something.’

  ‘Talk about blowing your own trumpet.’

  We turned our attention to the house: a brand new, two storey farmhouse-style building in slate. We breathed a sigh of relief when we saw lights on downstairs.

  ‘Are there any Wards?’

  Vicky returned the optic and used her magickal Sight. ‘Only a faint one. It would keep out the Ungift
ed, and trigger a warning, but no more.’

  ‘Good. Let’s get back to the car – we can follow this wall down to the road. It won’t take long.’

  22 — The Body Confident Lady Sings

  We were back at the car in no time, then Vicky insisted on changing her shoes and socks. I’m surprised that the dairy farmer didn’t come looking for us with a shotgun. I wonder how he would feel about his lane becoming an access road to Adaryn’s personal Eisteddfod? Probably quite happy if he thought there was money to be made in parking on his fields…

  ‘Ready, Vicky?’

  ‘Ready. Let’s go.’

  There were big iron gates at the entrance to Nyth Eryr, and they were wide open. On top of the pillars were stone eagles. I could hear my mother sniffing her disapproval all the way from Spain, and in the background I could hear my father rubbing his hands at the thought of all the tat he could sell to someone who thought stone eagles were a tasteful addition to their home.

  ‘Impressive,’ said Vicky.

  ‘If you ever become rich, I’m going to introduce you to my father.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Because you’re his ideal customer. Are there any Wards, or is this really wide open?’

  ‘Just the tripwire and general discouragement, like at the wall.’

  We passed through the gates without even registering the magick. The drive wound round the hill and opened to reveal the house and, out of sight behind some trees, a levelled-off area with portable toilets, a portakabin and other signs of building work. I parked the Mercedes facing the drive for a quick exit and activated my Ancile. I left the machete behind.

  As we approached the front door, floodlights blazed on, and I flinched instinctively. When no assault came, we continued walking. I noticed that Vicky moved away from me, ever so slightly. Just enough to make two targets, not one. She’s a quick learner, all right.

  The door opened, and a figure was silhouetted against the light.

  ‘Conrad Clarke, as I live and breathe,’ came the lilting, husky Welsh voice. Her accent had grown a lot stronger (or reverted) since we’d last met.

  I cleared my throat and did something I rarely do when not part of a crowd: I broke into song.

  Oh is there not one maiden breast,

  Which does not feel the moral beauty

  Of making worldly interest,

  Subordinate to sense of duty?

  Adaryn roared with laughter. Vicky snorted with suppressed wonder and sheer incomprehension. I think.

  ‘That certainly broke the ice,’ said the silhouette. ‘I’m touched that you remembered. Come in and take your shoes off.’

  She disappeared inside, rapidly vanishing into some inner room. I stepped over the threshold into an impressive double-height hallway with galleried landing and feature staircase. I lowered my voice. ‘I went to a boys’ school and Imogen went to a girls’ school. Every year we did a joint production, and every year none of the boys were good enough to sing properly. We were more into sports.’

  ‘I can believe that, but I cannot believe that you just burst into song. What on earth were you doing?’

  ‘The Pirates of Penzance. Imogen played Frederick as a Principal Boy. She brought the house down, big time. I was the stunt co-ordinator. I taught her how to sword-fight.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Seriously. I had a crush on her from the previous year, and I thought I was in with a chance, but something had changed and she didn’t fancy me any more. Looking back, it may have been the magick growing in her. Either way, when Immy didn’t succumb to my charms, her friend soon did.’

  ‘Every time, Conrad. Every time I think you can’t get more outrageous, you do.’

  ‘Glad to live up to your expectations. Come on, we’re letting the cold in.’

  I slipped off my boots, and Vicky did likewise. Without thinking, she leaned on me for balance as she hopped about. Without thinking, I put my hand on her shoulder. Adaryn chose that moment to return with a bottle, and her eyes narrowed when she saw us together. Vicky, her back to the room, didn’t notice.

  ‘Come through,’ said Adaryn. ‘Did you wait until I was alone?’

  ‘Not as such. Who was here?’

  ‘Just the staff. I’ve only got three at the moment.’

  Vicky muttered something, and Adaryn noticed her muttering.

  Now that she wasn’t in shadow, I got a proper look at the real-life Bard of MADOC, not the mural, and not my imperfect recollections of a teenage girl. She wasn’t built like a Valkyrie, but she did have a big chest. You couldn’t miss it with the low-cut dress. Surely she couldn’t have been lounging around in that, could she? It was a blue ball-gown, silk and full length, swishing on the floor because she wasn’t wearing heels. It wasn’t full-on opera, but it was definitely evening wear. Did she put it on when we triggered the Wards? The waist was perfectly fitted, her arms exposed, and her hair (black and lustrous) was long and loose. Her adult face was heart-shaped and lovely, and if I’d been the Pennaeth of MADOC, I’d have prostrated myself before her. Good job she’s not my type.

  The reception room beyond the slate-tiled hall had new oak boards for its floor and full height windows hidden behind curtains. The room was big enough to accommodate comfy seating for a dozen guests and the focus of the layout was neither a TV nor a fireplace. It was Adaryn’s golden harp.

  ‘Wow,’ said Vicky. ‘What a beautiful instrument.’

  ‘Do you play? Anything?’ It could have been a polite question, but Adaryn put an edge to it that had Vicky confused.

  ‘Sorry, no. Not my thing, really. Conrad likes the classical stuff.’

  Adaryn turned to me. ‘You also like Islay malt whisky, I hear.’

  Vicky was confused, and now I was, too. How did she know that? I certainly didn’t like Islay malt when I was seventeen – we all drank cider. ‘I think of you every year, Imogen, on the 19th of September.’

  Adaryn joined us in confusion. ‘Why? The show we did was in December.’

  ‘International Talk Like a Pirate Day. I raise a glass to you every year.’ Adaryn and Vicky both gave me strange looks. I don’t blame them. ‘Talking of raising a glass, how do you know about the Islay malt?’

  At that moment, Adaryn made her first big mistake. ‘Oh, Clara from the Usk View Hotel told me.’

  I could hear a low rumble. A harmony of low rumbles. Both Vicky and I were sub-vocalising our outrage at the betrayal. Clara, proprietor of the hotel we’d stayed at on Friday had betrayed us. No wonder Iestyn had paid the bill. I tried to swallow my anger for now and said, ‘No thanks.’

  Vicky added, ‘We won’t be accepting your hospitality.’

  ‘I thought you could have done better,’ said Adaryn, pointing at Vicky. ‘Someone should tell her that Lycra is not a good look with her figure.’

  I said nothing. If there was going to be an apocalypse, it had to be of Vicky’s making. Somehow, she managed to say nothing either.

  When the moment passed, and when Adaryn had put down the scotch, I said, ‘It’s time to wrap this up, Imogen. We’ve come to offer you a deal.’

  ‘No thanks.’

  Eh? Either she had something up her non-existent sleeve or she was bonkers. Vicky was leaning towards the latter.

  ‘You haven’t heard it yet,’ said Vicky.

  ‘I’m not dealing. I’ve got a statement for you, though. It goes roughly like this: In light of what I’ve learnt about the actions of Surwen and Gwyddno, I dissociate myself completely from their project to raise a Dragon, and will lend my support to any search that may be undertaken to find the beast. How’s that?’

  ‘About 120 hours too late,’ I said. ‘If you’d said that when we went to see the Pennaeth, when Iestyn was still alive…’

  ‘Still wouldn’t have been enough,’ said Vicky. ‘Leastways, not for me.’

  Ouch. Adaryn ignored her. Another mistake.

  ‘We’ve got some news first,’ I said. ‘The Pennaeth called a full gathering
of MADOC tonight. You won’t have heard yet, but they’ve declared all six of you anathema. You are cast from the circle and barred from the Grove. There’s an emergency meeting of the Druid Council on Thursday to consider a total bar. The Archdruid will be calling the King’s Watch to speak. My colleague will have to speak in English, since your friend killed the only Welsh speaker on the Watch.’

  ‘No. He wouldn’t,’ said Adaryn. ‘Harry wouldn’t do that to me.’

  ‘Yes, he would,’ said Vicky. ‘And he did. Do you want to see what he said in the grove? I’ve got the text message here.’

  Adaryn swept across the room, as you can only sweep if you’re wearing a silk ballgown. When the edge flicked up, I detected a pair of slippers. She had got changed to meet us, then. She picked up a phone from one of the sideboards and checked for messages from her remaining friends in MADOC. I savoured the look on her face as she read them.

  ‘You bastard, Conrad. It won’t stick.’

  ‘Yes it will,’ said Vicky. ‘You’re finished, unless you take this deal.’

  She made her way back across the room. ‘What deal?’ she said to me. I said nothing, because Vicky needed to get this one out of her system. So far, she was doing well.

  ‘Surrender,’ said Vicky. ‘The Pennaeth will allow you to petition for return if you tell us where the Dragon is, and if you make Atonement for what you’ve done.’ She chose that moment to get out the manilla envelope, and waved it in the air to make sure Adaryn had seen it. A bit dramatic, but fair enough.

  ‘I don’t know where the Dragon is. I can’t help you. The whole operation was designed to work independently once the Dragon left the Nest. I have no idea where they are. As for Atonement, I suppose I could do that. It’ll be up to Harry.’

  ‘And you reckon you can wind him round your little finger, don’t you?’ said Vicky. ‘A token act of Atonement and business as usual. Sorry, Immy, that’s not on the table. We need the Dragon.’

  Vicky was going well off the script, now, but I wasn’t going to stop her. This was too much fun.

 

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