Spook’s: Dark Assassin (The Starblade Chronicles)
Page 11
I stared at Jenny and took a deep breath to calm myself. ‘Let’s hope so,’ I said with a smile. She’d made a valid point: that tunnel might be unsafe now. The Kobalos mages might already have found it. They could ambush us there.
However, I was determined to go to Pendle. I needed to help Alice, whatever the cost.
Summoning the boggart, Kratch, to aid us might be a problem now. The route along the ley line was not the most direct one to Malkin Tower.
‘We’re going to continue south, Jenny, and pass to the west of Chipenden, picking up that ley line you mentioned earlier. It runs south through Beacon Fell, heading towards Priestown. But we’ll leave it well before then. At Goosnargh village we’ll head directly east along another one. That will bring us close to Pendle.’
‘Every step we take will bring us closer to danger,’ Jenny said, a frown on her face. ‘I’ve a bad feeling about this.’
I didn’t reply. She was right of course, but I had no choice.
CHAPTER 17
BURNING LIGHT
GRIMALKIN
THORNE WAS SQUATTING on the ground beside Hecate’s cauldron, eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration. She was desperately trying to project her soul out of her body – so far, with little success.
I heard the beat of wings and drew a blade as three ravens landed on the branch overhead. They perched there and studied me.
I selected another blade, this time a throwing knife, but Thorne grabbed my arm.
‘They are Watchers, Grimalkin,’ she reminded me; ‘entities able to search the Earth and report back on what they find.’
‘But these are the ones that served Hecate,’ I said, wondering how they felt about those who had slain their mistress.
‘We serve she who controls the cauldron!’ rasped a harsh, raucous voice from above our heads – though the words were clear enough.
‘Then you serve me,’ I said.
‘We have tidings. We have seen danger to the Spook called Ward; he who is your ally.’
‘Then tell me what you know,’ I commanded, returning my blades to their sheaths.
‘He is heading south with his apprentice and they are approaching Beacon Fell, but Shaiksa assassins lie in ambush. One will challenge him while the other three will attack him from behind with arrows. There is little time to lose. To save him you must intervene, but such an act will bring you into great danger.’
‘I do not fear Kobalos assassins!’ I stated angrily.
‘The danger to you is from a more formidable foe – the fierce heat of the sun,’ rasped the raven. ‘It is almost dawn.’
I realized that I needed to intervene now or Tom Ward would be slain. For long years we had striven together against the dark. And now, with his courage, experience – and the Starblade I had forged for him – Tom was a powerful ally we could not afford to lose.
But I could not survive the sun’s rays.
On arriving, I crouched with my head touching the trunk of a tree. My insides twisted; my blood felt like it was boiling – but I couldn’t afford to wait until I recovered. There was no cloud, and through the trees I could see that the sky on the eastern horizon was orange. The sun would rise in a matter of minutes.
I felt confident that I could slay the assassins … but could I do so in the limited time available to me?
I shifted into an orb and soared through the trees. Soon, below me, I saw the Shaiksa assassin. The Watcher had used the word ‘ambush’, but the Shaiksa was standing out in the open, ready to issue a challenge. He was there to avenge the brother assassin that Tom had slain on the riverbank.
His presence was a serious threat, though I felt sure that Tom would defeat him. But where were the other three assassins?
I searched the surrounding area until I found them.
They were hidden amongst the branches of separate trees set in a triangle. As the Watcher had indicated, their weapons were bows and arrows. When Tom went forward to fight the assassin, those archers would be behind him. They would shoot him in the back.
It was a treacherous plan. I had considered the Shaiksa brotherhood to be honourable. This showed how desperate they were: they feared Tom and were not confident of a victorious outcome. The Shaiksas comprised the foremost warriors available to the Kobalos; they always avenged a death. However, in Tom they had come up against a formidable adversary. They simply needed to be rid of him and snuff out the danger to the Kobalos cause. This time they would be sure of victory.
I glided towards the nearest of the three concealed assassins. I needed to strike swiftly and silently lest I alert the others. Seconds later I had transformed into my human shape, and straddled the branch directly behind him. I slew him quickly with my blade, then repositioned his dead body carefully upon the branch with his bow on his back so that it would not fall out of the tree. I knew that in death he would contact his brothers, but I needed to buy a little time before I found the second of the Shaiksas.
I returned my blade to its sheath and prepared to deal with the second of my enemies. But first I glanced towards the horizon.
It was brighter. The sun would be rising at any moment.
The second assassination was not so straightforward. With his dying breath, the first Shaiksa would have sent out the news of his death – though he could not identify his slayer; he had been dispatched too quickly.
My second target was vigilant and saw me take shape behind him. Still, I clamped my hand over his mouth so that he could not cry out. I slew him also and then prepared to deal with the third bowman.
This Shaiksa was actually standing on a branch, his eyes wide, searching for a target and drawing his bow. I attacked him head on, but the moment I dashed his bow aside and raised my blade I felt a terrible flash of burning light in my face. The sun had come up.
Now, for the first time since reaching the dark, my fear returned. I dreaded losing my vision. Without sight, how could I function as an assassin?
I felt my face begin to bubble and blister. Hot, burning tears ran down my cheeks. Were my eyes melting? I thought fearfully.
I was in agony.
I was blind.
CHAPTER 18
A SHAIKSA WITH A BOW
THOMAS WARD
WE HAD BEEN following the new ley line, heading towards Beacon Fell. I could see its forested slopes in the distance. The sky was clear and the first hint of dawn light showed directly ahead in the east.
Ahead lay a wood – a likely place for our enemies to lurk and ambush us. I considered making a detour and following its western edge. However, that would mean leaving the ley line and I might still need to summon the boggart.
So, leading the way, I strode on into the trees. Five minutes later, just as the sun rose, lighting the treetops, we reached a clearing. Immediately I saw danger waiting at its centre: an armed and armoured figure with the three pigtails that marked him out as a Shaiksa assassin.
This was no ambush. It was an open challenge.
‘They’ll never give up!’ Jenny cried out in alarm.
Each dying assassin called out with his mind to summon the Shaiksa brotherhood to avenge his death. I had killed an assassin on the riverbank back in Polyznia; I had fought the second Shaiksa that Alice had slain with her dagger. Moreover I had led an army across the Shanna River into their territory. No doubt they considered me a threat that must be removed once and for all. Jenny was right: their vengeful pursuit of me would never end. They would be satisfied only when I was dead.
Blood growled and began to move forward, her fur standing on end, saliva dripping from her jaws. I clicked my tongue and she halted and looked back at me. Had she been human, I’d have judged her expression to be one of disappointment.
‘Look after the dog, Jenny. Blood has no chance against such an opponent. He’d just cut her to pieces,’ I said.
‘Summon the boggart, Tom! Don’t risk your life again,’ Jenny pleaded, placing her hand on Blood’s back to restrain her.
‘I think I should save the b
oggart for something worse,’ I said, putting down my bag and laying my staff beside it. ‘I should be able to deal with this.’
‘Worse? What could be worse than fighting that killer? Remember what happened last time. You could die again, but this time you wouldn’t come back!’ Jenny cried.
I didn’t reply. There was nothing to be said. I’d already made up my mind to fight. It would be a fair contest and I was confident I could win.
I removed my cloak to allow myself more freedom of movement, and then I reached up to the shoulder scabbard and drew the Starblade. Gripping it two-handed, I strode towards my opponent.
The Shaiksa’s armour was black and of the highest quality, plate laid across plate so as not to allow the slightest point of vulnerability. Around his neck he wore a bone necklace. Grimalkin, the witch assassin, had always worn a necklace of thumb-bones; within each item lay the stored magical power of its dead owner – a resource she could draw on if necessary. From this necklace hung the shrunken skulls of the Shaiksa’s defeated enemies. They contained no magic: this was a boast; a kill count; a display of prowess. No doubt his intention was that my own skull should join them.
The assassin wore no helmet; I could see his lupine face and pitiless eyes. This was surely a vulnerable point to keep in mind. He stared at me arrogantly, a sabre gripped in each hand.
When I stood about six feet from him, I heard a noise behind me and whirled round to see that Jenny had followed me.
‘Go back!’ I commanded, giving her a slight push and sending her reeling backwards. ‘You can’t help me. Stay out of danger!’
I expected her to protest, but she nodded and backed away, her expression fearful.
I took another couple of steps towards the Shaiksa, then halted, preferring to let him attack first. In defending myself, I could assess his strengths and weaknesses and determine how best to defeat him.
But could I really defeat such an assassin again? I wondered now. Suddenly Jenny’s suggestion about the boggart seemed like a good idea. But then I remembered what Grimalkin had said to me after my defeat of Lenklewth, the Kobalos High Mage.
It was as if her voice was speaking those words inside my head:
I think the Starblade is growing in strength. That is another of the features I built into it. The blade will absorb from you what you are and what you are becoming.
Yes! I could do it again. The long illness I’d suffered after my apparent death on the riverbank belonged to the past. I was fully recovered. My strength and my speed had both fully returned. Without further thought I pushed caution aside, seized the initiative and attacked.
The assassin blocked my first blow with his left sabre and lunged at me with his right, but I danced away and began to spin, moving forward to attack again, performing the dance of death that Grimalkin had taught me.
My anger began to grow, but it was not like a red mist of berserker fury, limiting my ability to think and fight tactically. To fight that way was always a mistake. This anger was a fuel that surged through my body to feed my speed and strength. How dare this Shaiksa assassin confront me here in the County, my home? I thought indignantly. What right had this invader to block my way to Pendle, standing between me and Alice?
It was my rusty sword against his glittering sabres. But the Starblade that I held contained the best of Grimalkin’s magic. It would not break and could cut through any armour. Grimalkin was dead, but this was her legacy, and I would use it to good effect. Still gripping the Starblade with both hands, I scythed with all my force from right to left.
The sword bit deep into the assassin’s left shoulder, cutting through his armour, and he staggered backwards. He still held both sabres, but the one in his left hand hung low, pointing to the ground. There was blood running down his arm and spraying onto the grass.
Wasting no time, I pressed home my advantage, attacking his left side again. He was unable to raise the sabre to parry my blade, and it inflicted a second wound just below the first. This time the assassin dropped the sabre, but before it reached the ground I’d spun the other way and cut him deeply, high on his right shoulder.
He began to retreat; I darted after him, slicing through his armour again and again. Finally I forced him back against the trunk of a tree, raining down blow after blow, each taking its toll. I don’t know which blow finally killed him, but within seconds he was lying sprawled at my feet.
I stood looking down at him, fighting to regain my breath. I was hardly aware of Jenny coming to my side. When I glanced at her, she was staring across the clearing and pointing out a tree to our right.
‘There’s a body lying in the grass over there,’ she said.
We went over and saw another Shaiksa assassin lying dead at our feet. His throat had been cut; his bow lay nearby.
‘Who could have killed him?’ Jenny asked, glancing about as if expecting to see someone else.
I shook my head. There was no way to know. I’d never seen a Shaiksa with a bow before. Had this been an ambush, after all? Had they intended to slay me from a distance or as I fought?
‘Are we going to bury the bodies?’ Jenny asked, glancing back at the assassin I’d slain.
I shook my head. ‘In other circumstances I would, but it’s dangerous to linger here. In any case, in death he’ll have told his brother assassins what happened and where he is. They’ll come for him.’
So we pressed on through the morning; late in the afternoon we rested in another wood within a mile of Goosnargh. We needed to reach the centre of the village and follow the ley line east.
Jenny caught rabbits to feed us and the dog, and then we slept for a while. I felt confident that Blood would wake us if anybody approached. The real Bill Arkwright had trained her well.
We set off again about an hour after sunset and headed towards the village.
It was then that I noticed that Jenny was limping. ‘Is that ankle bothering you?’ I asked her.
‘Yes, it’s starting to feel a bit sore – but don’t worry, I can still walk.’
‘Let me see …’
I knelt and looked at her ankle. The moon was hidden by clouds and the light wasn’t good, but her skin felt hot to the touch, the joint swollen. I’d worried about the cuts from the water witch’s talons; they had indeed become infected. Such wounds could be very dangerous.
I didn’t want to alarm Jenny, so I simply led the way towards the village more slowly. Soon it was in sight.
‘There’s something wrong, Tom,’ Jenny warned, taking my arm to bring me to a halt.
She was right. No lights showed from any of the dwellings – but surely most people would not yet be in bed. Everything was too quiet, and now I could smell smoke.
I put my forefinger to my lips to indicate the need for silence, and then we moved forward more cautiously, Blood padding at our side. We’d almost reached the first cottage when the moon came out from behind a cloud, flooding the scene with silver light.
I saw several things simultaneously, and quickly pulled Jenny into the shadow of a wall.
Most of the houses had no roofs; some had only two or three walls still standing. They were burned empty shells. In the centre of the village green was a large mound. At first my eyes refused to accept what I was seeing, but then a sudden breeze carried a second smell towards us – one even stronger than the smoke.
It was the stink of death.
Ahead of us lay a mound of corpses. The villagers had all been slain.
Then, beyond the mound, I saw a bulky figure pacing back and forth as if on sentry duty. The moon glinted off his chain mail, and I realized that it was a Kobalos warrior.
We began to retreat, keeping to the shadows. I knew that more of our enemies would be lurking nearby.
We could avoid a dangerous confrontation here, but it involved a change of plan. Now we would have to circle Goosnargh and, in so doing, leave the ley line. Who could tell how many Kobalos were in the vicinity? It would be dangerous to head east, but there was a seco
nd ley line that led towards Pendle. We needed to press on south towards it. This was the ley line that bisected the notorious, haunted Chingle Hall.
We got clear of Goosnargh without encountering any more Kobalos, still heading south. Jenny’s limp seemed to be getting worse. She kept giving little gasps of pain. Blood started to sniff at her ankle, whining softly.
‘Do you want to rest for a while?’ I asked, taking Jenny’s arm to bring her to a halt.
‘No, let’s keep going,’ she said.
But as we continued our journey, I grew increasingly worried. If only Alice was here, she’d have something to counter the poison. Once we reached Pendle she’d be able to help, but now I doubted that my apprentice could walk that far.
Suddenly Jenny gave a little cry and fell onto her knees. When I reached her, she was panting for breath.
‘Sorry, Tom. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry …’
Then she pitched forward onto her face. I turned her onto her side. She was now unconscious, her breathing ragged, and her ankle was terribly swollen. The poison was spreading rapidly and I was full of fear. What could I do? How could I help her?
I lifted her onto my shoulder and strode on as fast as I could. As well as carrying Jenny, I was struggling with both bags and staffs.
Fortunately I hadn’t far to walk. Chingle Hall lay not far ahead. I could stop there and ask for help.
I’d visited the place on several occasions with my master. At Squire Robinson’s request he’d sent several of its ghosts to the light, though others had kept manifesting themselves.
But of more interest to me now was the fact that one of the servants had some medical knowledge. This was usually the case with big houses belonging to the gentry. Such skill could mean the difference between life and death. Sometimes it could take hours for a doctor to arrive.
The servant’s name was Nora and she knew all about herbs; not as much as Alice, of course, but it had to be worth a try. I couldn’t think of anything else and was growing increasingly desperate. I just had to hope that she was still working there. I knew that people had died as a result of water-witch poison.