Eight Kings (The King's Watch Book 6)

by Mark Hayden

  Scout was pretty relaxed, too. He curled up on the sundeck and went to sleep.

  By half past ten, it was dark and everyone was ready for bed, but duty called for me. Or rather, Scout called, standing by the door and letting us know it was time for his last outing. Mina swapped her sandals for trainers, grabbed her coat and joined me for a walk down to the dock, taking the long route now that the offices were closed. It was one way of getting some time on our own, and we held hands going down the track, loving the quiet and being together.

  It was magical by the dock. Lights flickered across the estuary, cosy beacons from the cottages. Rigging snapped against the masts of the sailboats and a few night birds called out to each other. It was full tide now, and down by the water you could smell the sea. Mina slipped her hand under my coat and snuggled up. ‘It’s cold,’ she said. ‘Is it me or is autumn around the corner? It shouldn’t be. This is August.’

  ‘Welcome to the countryside. The days might be warm, but summer’s definitely over.’

  ‘Hmmph. Remind me not to wear a short skirt next time we come here at night. If my legs weren’t brown, they’d be going blue.’

  I bent down for a kiss, and we were enjoying ourselves when Scout trotted up and barked. Time to go.

  ‘Did you notice,’ said Mina, ‘who never exchanged a single word during dinner.’

  ‘I did. Lena and Eseld. Not so much as a pass the coleslaw. No one seemed to mind, though.’

  ‘I wonder what it’s like when they don’t have guests,’ she mused.

  ‘Eseld has her own place down Penzance way. She’s never normally here unless Lord Mowbray is also in residence.’

  ‘Hmm. I wonder why that is, and I wonder why she’s so desperate to get you on horseback tomorrow.’

  ‘Rachael used to do that sometimes: make guests play tennis at unsocial hours, just to prove a point.’

  ‘Possibly. The longer I’m here, the more I get the feeling that we’ve been given parts in a different film to the one our agent promised.’

  ‘Was that a Bollywood metaphor?’

  ‘Of course. When not acting as Peculier Auditor, I am 100% focused on the party next month. We will start selling tickets on Monday.’

  ‘Right. That puts me in my place.’

  We’d reached the lights under the canopy by the front door. Mina lifted her cold hand and stroked my face. ‘Your place is at the back, looking moody and as far from the dance floor as possible. And that is why I love you. Let’s hope these granite walls are soundproof.’

  Part Three — Meet Me in the Middle

  12 — Game

  ‘Go on then. You heard her last night. Find the horseys.’

  Scout scanned the white wool that had descended on Pellacombe, then turned round to face me and tilted his head on one side. The message was clear: in this????

  After such a clear night, it wasn’t surprising that mist had taken over the estuary, even up to the heights of the Mowbray mansion. The sun was just peeking over the horizon (or would be if I could see the horizon). This wasn’t proper fog and it would burn off soon enough. I looked down at my reluctant hound and said, ‘You’re supposed to be a dog. You don’t need to see the stables, just follow the scent.’

  He shook himself, and a few water droplets from the dew flew free. Without further ado, he bounded off to the north, disappearing into the mist.

  ‘Bloody dog,’ I said to myself. ‘How am I supposed to follow you now?’ From within the mist, a bark showed he’d taken pity on me.

  Away from the public face of Pellacombe, a paved path led through the small woods that clustered nearby and which had formed the magickal basis for the illusion of a forest. On the other side of the wood was the start of a village where most of the estate workers lived. There was no wall around Pellacombe. Not one you could see, anyway. One of the nearest features was a collection of functional buildings that included the stables. There was a tiny puddle at the bottom of the sign warning of private property. I wish he wouldn’t do that, but he is a dog, I suppose.

  Eseld was busy saddling a powerful stallion whose chestnut flanks glistened under the artificial light. The name outside the stall said that he was Uther. In case you can’t remember, Uther Pendragon was the father of King Arthur. Fitting for a beast like that.

  ‘You found us,’ said Eseld. ‘Your Familiar stuck his head in and ran a mile.’

  ‘Morning. That is some beast. Does he live here or in Predannack?’

  ‘Mostly in Predannack. I brought him up here when Dad decided he wanted to be King of Wessex.’

  Dad. That brought me up short. Cador has only ever referred to his father as Lord Mowbray. At dinner last night, we all avoided business so his name never came up. I certainly couldn’t imagine Ethan referring to him as Uncle Arthur.

  I looked around the immaculate stables and could see three other stalls in use. ‘Which one should I take?’

  She didn’t answer until she’d finished checking the saddle. She had eschewed all fancy dress today and was looked like any other woman about to go for a ride. Apart from the purple lipstick. And the leather wrist bands.

  ‘Why do you think I invited you here this morning?’ she said, then answered her own question. ‘To get you alone.’

  I tried not to react. Honestly.

  She gave me a feral grin. ‘Don’t worry. You’re not my type. Have you noticed that Mages, even the nicest ones, rarely do each other favours?’

  ‘Not free of charge. There’s usually a price.’

  ‘There is, but not today because it’s not for you. Call your Familiar.’

  I whistled loudly and two of the horses whinnied at the noise. Scout came nervously into the stables and made a dash for the sanctuary of my legs.

  ‘I had a Familiar once,’ said Eseld. ‘When I was a kid.’ She lifted a finger and pointed it at me. ‘And don’t laugh when I say that it was a bat.’

  ‘I’m not laughing, I’m just puzzled. Aren’t they rather short-lived?’

  She shook her head. ‘It should still be alive. They can live for forty years. Twenty is normal.’ She paused for a moment, screwing up her purple lips as if trying to keep something penned in that was trying to escape. She shook her head and blinked. ‘You’ve bonded with Scout, but not properly. It’s not your fault, I can see that you’ve been trying. Who taught you?’

  ‘I got most of it from a book. I’m afraid that a lot of it didn’t apply to me for obvious reasons. I simply don’t have the magick.’

  She squatted down, like she had last night, and put her hands out wide on either side of Scout’s head. I felt the warmth of Lux and Scout whimpered. ‘A Familiar needs to be a true union of Spirit and animal, neither one nor the other and greater than the sum of its parts. The Spirit part is getting edged out as he grows up. That’s normal, but not to this extent. You need to intervene. To enhance his Imprint and open a channel for Lux that doesn’t rely on physical contact.’ She rested her hands on her knees.

  ‘How do I do that? I thought only serious Mages could project Lux without a physical link, and I have no idea how to enhance his Imprint.’

  She held up a hand and I hauled her to her feet. ‘Do you trust me, Conrad?’

  That was a leading question. ‘In this, yes.’

  ‘Good enough. Strip off all your magick and leave it here, then follow me.’

  I wear some my magickal Artefacts all the time now. Yes, all the time. I felt naked without them, and when I’d followed Eseld into an empty stall with a wall heater glowing brightly, things got worse. She asked me to take my top off.

  She peered at my arm. ‘Did you have some ink there? They didn’t do a very good job removing it.’

  ‘I have no tattoos. That’s a scar from a shrapnel wound. You should see my leg.’

  She brushed her fingers against the scar tissue. ‘Dead. It’s a blank spot on your Imprint.’ She shook herself like Scout does and frowned. The emotional temperature dropped several degrees, much to my relief.
>
  ‘How does your Sight work?’ she asked.

  ‘Heat. I close my eyes and feel lines of heat.’

  She chewed her lip. ‘Shit. That’s so not helpful. We’ll have to improvise. Right. Call him in, squat down and put your hands on his shoulders. I’m going to stand behind you and put my hands on yours. I have to avoid touching him at all costs. You should be able to feel his Imprint within his body, and you need to enlarge it somehow. I can’t tell you more than that. When you feel my fingers start to really dig into your shoulders, that’s the signal for you to let go. I’ll help you form the air-bond, but I can’t help with the Imprint. Okay?’

  ‘I’ll do my best, except I can’t squat for long. You really do need to see my leg to understand why.’

  She got a feed bucket and turned it over. I lowered myself down and she moved behind me. Warm hands touched my shoulders and I called for Scout. He came and sat in front of me and his blue eye turned green, the way it does when he’s using magick.

  ‘This might hurt, lad,’ I said. ‘Sorry.’

  I moved my hands above his doggy shoulders and closed my eyes. I pressed down through his fur and instead of heat, I got cold. A metal shell under the skin. That’s what it felt like anyway. Eseld flexed her fingers and I felt heat radiate across my chest.

  I tried to press without pressing, to move my awareness inside his body without crushing him. He gave a little whine to show I wasn’t succeeding. I squeezed my eyes so tightly closed that spots appeared and tried again.

  Whoah! My hands stayed on his shoulders, but I grew another pair of hands that sank into the flesh. I nearly jerked away because my brain isn’t equipped to receive data from four hands. The physical hands stayed and my head throbbed like I’d been hit by a bouncer. Tentacles. I was feeling inside Scout’s body as if I had tentacles, not extra hands, and deep inside his canine form, I felt something glowing red hot. It was my turn to swear.

  It was knobbly, it had bits sticking out and it was vaguely dog shaped. It also felt like a piece of lava. Somehow I had to make that thing, his Imprint, much much bigger. Images slid round my brain, of volcanoes, hot springs and furnaces. What comes out of a furnace? Metal, yes, but also glass. I had an idea.

  Somewhere at the front of that lump of fire was a mouth, and I was going to blow it like a bulb of glass. If I could only turn that tentacle into a tube…

  OWWWWWWWWWWWWW! OWWW!

  That’s the noise I made. Apparently. I also managed to get an invisible tube into the Imprint and blow Lux down it. The pain was worse than when my leg was blown up.

  Slowly, the Imprint expanded, growing more dog-shaped as it did. My shoulders burned almost as much as my hands as Eseld gave me Lux. I heard her hiss with pain, and I redoubled my efforts. I got as far as three-quarters of dog size when her fingers dug into my shoulders like twin vices.

  I didn’t just let go. I withdrew my Sight from his body as slowly as I could bear until it was back with my hands, and the ice-cold metal of his shoulders was now much warmer and softer. I tried to visualise a streamer of glass connecting us as I moved my hands away. There. Still attached. We were now more bonded than ever. With a thump, I fell off the stool and fainted.

  ‘Here, drink this,’ said Eseld.

  She was lifting my naked torso off the floor and supporting my head. My side felt wet. Had I cut myself? I opened my eyes. No. I was being licked back to health by Scout. I took a sniff and was soooo tempted.

  ‘Sorry. Thanks, but the alcohol limit for RAF pilots is zero.’

  ‘Oh. Right. Never thought of that. Can you sit up?’

  I levered myself into a sitting position. ‘Any chance of an aspirin?’

  ‘Coming up.’ She passed me my top and disappeared.

  I looked at Scout. His right eye was now permanently green. Very disconcerting. I reached out and stroked him. He flinched, squeezing his eyes closed. I think the poor thing just got a taste of my headache.

  Eseld returned with water, aspirin and a chair. I managed all three with some difficulty.

  ‘That was interesting,’ she said. ‘You’ve made a huge difference to Scout. It’ll work out over the next six months or so. I didn’t know you were a Geomancer.’

  ‘Neither did I. I can do bits of dowsing and follow Ley lines, but my only genuine talent is Navigation.’

  She disagreed. ‘You made that Work like a proper Geomancer. Sort of. I’ve seen my dad work, and you have similar styles in a way. Don’t take offence, but Dad’s like a surgeon and you’re more of a digger driver.’

  ‘Being in the same sentence as your father is a big compliment.’

  ‘Do you still fancy a gallop?’

  ‘I think I need it. After I’ve had a cigarette, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘I’ll join you, and we can give Scout a job.’

  ‘He’ll try most things, but using a brush is a bit beyond him.’

  She held out a hand and pulled me up. ‘Tell him to choose a horse for you.’

  Outside the stables, the mist had nearly gone. I asked Eseld to tell me where we were going, and she described a route round the Pellacombe estate that should blow the cobwebs away. When we went back inside, Scout was sitting looking at one of the stalls. He heard us coming, barked, and trotted outside.

  ‘Good choice,’ said Eseld. ‘I’ll get a saddle while you say hello to Evenstar.’

  What a beast. Scout had chosen a two year old filly just reaching maturity. She had a beautiful grey coat (which means white in ordinary language), and I went into the stall to get acquainted.

  Evenstar isn’t a thoroughbred, and didn’t have a thoroughbred’s temperament. What she did have was a lot of strength in her legs, something I discovered when we gave Uther and Evenstar their heads on a gallop to Mowbray’s Hill. Eseld is a better rider than me, and Uther faster on the flat, but up the hill Evenstar dug in and won by a head.

  ‘Do you come here a lot?’ I said, drinking in the view down the valley. I could see both Pellacombe and Lamorne Point coming to life. The Ferrymistress was making her first crossing, smoke was coming from the mansion chimneys and even the Smurf looked wide awake.

  ‘I try to come every day. Predannack is beautiful, but it doesn’t have anything like this.’

  ‘Thank you for sharing it with me. And for what you did to Scout. I am in your debt, Eseld.’

  She shook her head violently. ‘No. No you’re not. Freely offered, freely given.’

  That was not done lightly. She had gone out on a limb for Scout and me, and to insist on no favour owed was very generous. ‘Then accept our thanks, from Scout if not from me.’

  His little legs had left him well behind the horses, about half way up the hill. He struggled to the top and barked plaintively.

  ‘From him, yes,’ she said. ‘From you, reluctantly, but yes. Let’s go. We’ve got a conference to prepare for.’

  We turned the horses and walked down the hill. Eseld was trying to keep a barrier between us for reasons of her own, but it’s hard to do that when you’ve shared magick. Even harder when there’s been physical contact. I decided to risk something personal but not intimate. ‘What have you got planned for today’s outfit?’

  She laughed. ‘You’re brave.’

  ‘Cador made you go to Primark before the Cloister Court.’

  ‘And I haven’t forgiven him yet. Do you like 80s pop, Conrad?’

  ‘Not as much as my father. He used to sing power ballads to get me to sleep when I was a baby. Apparently. I think it turned me to classical music at an early age. If you’d heard my dad on karaoke, you’d never look at Bonnie Tyler in the same way again.’

  She laughed again and picked up the speed to a trot. ‘Then you’re in for a real treat.’

  13 — Set

  ‘That had better be all she touched,’ said Mina. She was holding a mascara wand in one hand and peering carefully at the bruises on my shoulder.

  ‘I thought it was Lena that I had to steer clear of.’

  ‘H
mmph. You smell of horse today. Go away and let me finish.’

  Saffron emerged into the lounge as I went to the bathroom. Her hair was in an MOD approved bun and her uniform looked ironed. She bent down to say hello to Scout and stood straight up. ‘Woah! What’s happened here?’

  ‘Eseld took him in hand. I’ll tell you later.’

  My curiosity about Eseld’s outfit also had to wait. She was still in her riding gear at breakfast and already tucking in when the King’s Watch party descended. At least she gave me a proper smile today. Fleetingly. When no one was looking.

  She also said something to Mina. Something that involved touching her on the back. I couldn’t hear them, but I saw Mina’s nose go up. I’m sure Eseld was trying to be nice, but she’ll need to watch out: Mina’s like a cobra when her nose goes up. It means she’s ready to strike.

  ‘Excellent breakfast,’ I said to Lena when I’d put down my knife and fork.

  ‘Danke. I am telling the butcher about proper sausage. Maybe in winter he makes rohwurst.’

  ‘You’ll have to send us some.’

  ‘And now for the tour,’ she said to the group. The Mowbrays drifted away and Lena led us out of the dining room.

  I’ll give you my impressions of the public rooms in a minute. When Lena showed us the staircase to the old farmhouse, I asked about the Lab.

  ‘Ist verboten,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Only the Mowbray Mages go in there. Lord Mowbray’s Zauberwerkstatt, I think.’

  Magickal workshop. Made sense. We went back upstairs and started from the front.

  Inside the formal entrance doors is an equally formal reception hall with the main staircase rising at the back. Portraits faced each other across the slate flagged floor. One could only be the Earl of Tintagel, Ethan’s father, a fact confirmed by Lena. The other portrait was a woman in early middle age, slightly hunched in the shoulders and with long black hair loose around the shoulders. Her face didn’t look strong, but her gaze was deep and directed straight at the artist. ‘Lord Mowbray’s mother,’ said Lena, crossing herself. ‘This room will not be used properly for the conference. Tonight we eat in the dining room. As Cador is saying, the action will all be in the Aisling Rooms.’