by Cate Cain
Gabriel Jericho led Sarah towards the cake. The showman raised his hands and the murmuring stopped. “Now, everyone,” he began in a deep voice that carried to every corner of the hall, “I’m sure we are very grateful to our hosts this evening for this fine food and the wonderful old-style celebrations.” People cheered and Jem saw his mother blush with pleasure. Gabriel raised his hands again and continued. “And to show our appreciation, and to bring good fortune to this house and its people, we will sing the old Twelfth Night song while the cake is divided.” He turned, bowed to Sarah and handed her a knife.
She hesitated for a moment and then took a step towards the cake. She began to saw away at the lowest tier until the icing sugar crumbled and the delicious dark fruit was revealed. Gabriel began to sing and very soon all the older folk in the hall were joining hands and singing with him.
“We have travelled far and wide,
to bring you cheer on this dark night.
We link our hands and raise a cry
to turn away the evil eye.
Let no malice harm this place
for we celebrate with grace.
Come share our food, come share our ale
to welcome New Year with wassail.
Now moon and stars shine bright and clear
to banish bane and welcome cheer.”
Jem didn’t recognise the song, but after hearing it repeated several times as the cake was handed about the hall, he, Tolly and Ann began to sing too. Something about the simple tune made him feel safe and protected. Like everyone else, he linked hands, Tolly and Ann on either side of him, and only broke the chain when a portion of cake came to him. He crammed the spiced fruit into his mouth and continued to hum along to the song. The cake was delicious. Ann bent down to feed some of her slice to Cleo who was staring imploringly up at the three of them in turn.
“Here you are, little one.”
Cleo chirruped and plucked the morsel from Ann’s fingers. Pausing briefly to smell it, she pushed the cake greedily into her mouth. She shrieked immediately and spat it out. There on the floor in front of her was a rounded golden bean.
Cleo prodded it suspiciously and then looked accusingly at Ann. The people around the children began to laugh.
“We can’t have a monkey for a king,” an old man chuckled. “’T’int right.”
Cleo chirped again and took the bean in her paw. She cocked her head from side to side and looked up at Jem, then at Tolly and then jumped onto Ann’s shoulder and dangled the bean in front of her nose.
The old man spoke again. “Well, it looks like the little monkey has chosen for us. We have our Twelfth Night Queen.”
Soon the cry was taken up by everyone in the hall. “A queen! We have a queen!”
The space in front of Ann cleared as if by magic as people parted to either side of the hall.
“What do I do now?” Ann’s green eyes were huge as she looked at the expectant faces of the guests. Jem could tell that she was secretly thrilled.
“I think that’s your throne.” Tolly pointed to the far side of the hall where a heavily carved chair was set on a large box covered with red cloth. The back of the chair was decorated with ribbons and sprigs of holly.
“Go on then.” He nudged her forward. “I think you’d better go and sit on it. That’s what they’re all waiting for.”
“I’m not going without you two by my side.” Ann took hold of Jem’s right hand and Tolly’s left. Jem felt a tingle of warmth shoot up his arm and across his shoulders as the three of them stood together. Then, amid the deafening sound of cheers, stamping and clapping, they walked through the parted crowd with Cleo following behind. The grinning boys made low bows as Ann clambered up onto the red box and turned to face the gathering. She smiled shyly, then, emboldened by the sight of the beaming faces about her, she tried a regal wave. The crowd cheered, there were even a couple of appreciative whistles. Ann grinned in delight. Candlelight sparked off the jewels set into her filigree crown and an escaped lock of silver-white hair shone like the moon.
For a moment Jem was reminded of something – no, someone. The painting of Ann’s mother Elizabeth that had hung in the peculiar corridor at Malfurneaux Place framed itself in his mind. He thought again how much Ann resembled her. It must have been painted when they were about the same age.
Tolly nudged his arm. “Well, it certainly looks like Cleo made the right choice. Ann’s loving this.” Below his mask, Tolly’s mouth curled into a generous smile. “Just look at her!”
“And what is your first command, so please Your Majesty?” Gabriel’s deep, amused voice boomed from somewhere at the back of the hall. Ann shaded her eyes and went up on tiptoe, looking about. Gabriel spoke again. “Pray silence for our queen’s first proclamation.”
The shouting and clapping stopped and scores of eager faces turned towards her. Ann cleared her throat. “I … I …” She paused and looked down at Jem and Tolly. “What shall I say?” she whispered urgently.
Jem grinned mischievously. “Say whatever you like. You’re usually very good at giving orders, so I’m sure it will come naturally to you!” He heard Tolly stifle a laugh.
Ann pulled a face at Jem and then looked out at the hall. Standing as straight and tall as she could, she swept aside her velvet cloak to reveal her costume of knee boots and sea-green breeches, planted her hands on her hips and took a deep breath.
“I … I command the dancing to continue. Musicians, play!”
The crowd roared its approval. As the pipers and fiddle players struck up a rowdy country tune, paper streamers were tossed into the air while the acrobats swung backwards and forwards, casting down handfuls of gilded nuts and currants.
Jem found himself caught by the hand and pulled into the centre of the hall. Through the swirling crowd he caught sight of Tolly’s golden mask weaving backwards and forwards in the pattern of the dance. Ann was now seated happily on the throne, feeding the rest of her cake to Cleo, who perched on one of the arms. Jem decided that next time he whirled past he would drag Ann into the ring.
But just as he was about to loop back past the throne again, three echoing knocks sounded on the doors to the hall. The noise was loud and heavy that the thuds rang out above the music and laughter. The dancing came to a confused, ragged halt as the pounding came again and the musicians stopped playing.
Gabriel walked towards the doors. “Who’s there?” he demanded.
There was a long silence before the answer came from what seemed like a hundred voices speaking at once. “We have come.” The voices were cracked and whispery, making the hairs on the back of Jem’s neck rise. “We have travelled far and wide. Will you open your doors to us this night?”
“Let them enter. I command it!” Jem turned to see Ann standing on the dais – her face alight with excitement. “Come on, Gabriel,” she continued. “You can’t keep us waiting any more. It won’t be Twelfth Night for much longer, it’s almost midnight. Open the doors.”
Of course! Jem grinned. Gabriel’s surprise! He turned back to Gabriel and was puzzled to see the big man hesitate for a second. Two other guests were already following Ann’s royal command. The chuckling men swung back the great doors of Goldings House, calling out, “Welcome, friends!”
A sharp gust of bone-numbing air entered the hall and snow drifted across the threshold. A vast black shape filled the doorway. The crowd murmured as the shape paused and swayed for a moment before sweeping forwards, rustling into the very centre of the hall.
Jem tried to make sense of what he was looking at. The thing was oval – about eight feet long and fringed with layers of black shredded material like a beggar woman’s skirts. It looked a little like a ship with a prow and a stern, but as Jem stared he realised that it was actually more like a creature with a pointed head and a trailing, knotted tail. Two crude circles were painted in white on the thing’s black head to resemble eyes.
Behind it swarmed a troupe of actors dressed in a patchwork of rags and dead
leaves. Each one of them wore a mask – the horned skull of a massive stag. Four of the stag men carried staves with what looked like grinning human skulls mounted on the top. These men – who were taller than anyone else in the room – pushed through the crowd and positioned themselves watchfully in the corners while the others formed a ring around the black thing.
It stood stock still for a moment. Then it shook itself and little bells rang out from under the skirts. It began to revolve slowly, the “head” swaying from side to side as if the painted eyes were seeking something. When the creature’s head was level with Ann’s throne it stopped … and then it shivered, jangled and slowly tipped forward into a deep bow.
“Why ’tis an ’Oss!” An old woman standing beside Ann’s throne grinned a toothless smile and shuffled forward. “I haven’t seen one of these since I was a girl. It was always traditional, see, for the Twelfth Night mummers to bring in the ’Obby ’Oss for the luck of it. I never thought I’d live to see one again. I wonder who’s under there tonight. It takes a strong man to dance under all that.”
As if in agreement, the ’Oss shook itself and jingled again and music began to play. The pipers and fiddlers looked around in confusion – and Jem realised it wasn’t coming from them.
The sound was low at first, but the strange music grew louder and faster, and the ’Oss began to slowly dip and spin, never moving from the centre of the hall. People gathered around it, swaying in time to the peculiar jagged rhythm. Some of them started to clap and stamp their feet. One of the stag men grabbed a woman’s hand, pulled her from the crowd and whirled her around and around until she was standing in front of the black creature’s head. It paused and swayed in front of her for a moment, then it reared up and swallowed her beneath its ragged black skirts.
People cried out as she was engulfed, but there was laughter moments later when she reappeared, pink-faced and chuckling. Gradually the music grew faster and wilder. Jem found himself stamping his feet and clapping along with everyone else.
But as he swayed on the fringes of the circle there was something … something …
Now the ’Oss was choosing its own partners, dipping low in front of them – rustling its skirts and jingling its bells in invitation. People were delighted to be selected, shrieking as the blackness folded over their heads only to be released seconds later, breathless and laughing on the far side of the circle.
The ’Oss spun round again. It came to a halt before Ann’s throne once more, moving gently from side to side. Ann clapped her hands to her face and grinned, her green eyes sparkling as she stood up. Cleo leaped from her lap and cowered behind the chair. Jem rubbed his eyes – the air suddenly seemed thick and scented with something both sweet and rancid. The hall filled with a grey mist that shrouded all the colours in the room. He blinked hard – the shapes of the people around him seemed to be distorting and stretching. Jem’s temples started to throb – surely this wasn’t quite right? He looked for Tolly. Could he feel it too?
One of the stag men moved towards the throne and offered Ann his hand. Beneath the stag man’s cloak Jem caught sight of something … something hideous, something that was gnarled and twisted like a claw.
Jem opened his mouth to shout a warning, but nothing came. At the same moment the stag man turned to stare at him. A single amber eye glinted coldly from the depths of the flaking bone mask.
“This is all wrong. We must stop her!” Tolly’s voice sounded in Jem’s head. He tried to turn and find his friend in the crowd, but his body wouldn’t obey him. He was still clapping and swaying in the circle around the ’Oss. On the far side of the circle he could see Gabriel doing exactly the same thing, but the tortured look on the showman’s face sent a finger of ice down Jem’s spine.
The stag man helped Ann down from the dais and escorted her the little way to the spot directly in front of the ’Oss. The music became screeching and discordant. Jem wanted to cover his ears but he couldn’t make his hands do anything other than clap. Instead, he watched in horror as the stag man pushed Ann forward. Jem saw she wasn’t smiling now, her eyes were wide with fear as the ’Oss reared up and raised its tattered skirts high above her head before swallowing her whole. For a moment the ’Oss froze, then it began to spin faster and faster until it was just a blurred shadow at the centre of the hall.
The music halted and the black creature stopped dead, hovering for just a second before falling flat to the floor. At exactly the same moment every light burning in the room was extinguished – every candle, every taper, every torch. Even the massive Yule log in the hearth.
Blindly, Jem reached out through the darkness. He heard screams and shouts as terrified people around him bumped into each other. Then he felt a hand grip his arm.
“Jem, is that you? It’s me, Tolly.”
A light flared next to them – Gabriel, with a flaming torch in his hand. His expression was unreadable, his mouth set in a grim line. “This way, boys – over here.”
Pushing through the confusion, he led them over to the flattened black oval of cloth. It looked like a wide dark pool at the centre of the hall. He tested it warily with his foot, but it didn’t move, it just emitted a sweet, rancid smell like rotting meat. Gabriel muttered something under his breath then held the torch high above his head. He scanned the agitated crowd and Jem followed his gaze.
Outside, the bell in the tower over the stable block began to chime. It was midnight.
There was no doubt about it – Ann had vanished. And so had all the stag-headed mummers.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Who were they?” Jem heard the tremor in his own voice.
“I think the question is what were they?” Tolly hugged a wriggling Cleo close to his chest. Everyone was silent now.
“I’ll tell you what they weren’t. They weren’t part of the surprise.’ Gabriel’s voice was flat. ‘Balthazar and Juno were to bring the elephant into the courtyard on the last stroke of midnight and I was supposed to lead everyone out to see it – not let anyone in.” His torch showed the fear in their faces. The tang of something putrid lingered in the cold air, smothering the comforting fruit-wood scent of the fire.
“Why take Ann and no one else?” Tolly loosened his grip on Cleo, but now she buried herself into his neck. Jem noticed she was unusually still – even her tail hung limp and straight. Only her nose twitched at the rank smell in the hall.
“They can’t have gone far with her. We must organise a search party. There are hunting dogs in the kennels behind the stables. Bess and Musket can follow any trail. What do you say?” Jem looked at Gabriel.
The showman was staring at the pool of black cloth at his feet.
“What do you think, Gabriel?” Jem asked again urgently. He was suddenly very sure that time was important. “We can’t afford to waste a moment.”
“I think Tolly is right.” Gabriel clapped a hand to his head. “I was a fool! That was magic, Jem – the darkest I’ve seen in many a year. Twelfth Night is a time when the powers, be they good or bad, are strong I should have been wary.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure your dogs will pick up her trail, no matter how keen their noses are.”
“We have to try something!” Jem kicked the material and the stench grew stronger. “We can’t just stand here in the dark, we have to do something – and quickly. Tolly, what do you say?”
Tolly pulled off the golden mask. His dark skin was grey in the dim light and his eyes were huge. Cleo whickered mournfully and crept to his shoulder where she hunched low.
“Jem’s right, Gabriel. Those things were … unnatural, but we have to do something. Animals sense things – Cleo always does. Using the dogs is as good a suggestion as any. It could be our only chance.”
“Can you feel her?” Jem looked at Tolly hopefully, but his friend didn’t reply.
Sarah stepped into the little circle of light cast by Gabriel’s torch. “Wha … What just happened? My head … It feels as if it’s about to split in two.” She put her fing
ers to her temples. “It’s all confused, like a hideous dream. Where’s Ann?”
“The little one has vanished, ma’am.” Gabriel took a deep breath. “The lads here are for organising a search, led by your dogs.”
Sarah nodded. “Our head groom reckons Musket is the best tracker in the county.”
“Exactly! We just need something to give them her scent …” Jem was already striding towards the door. “We can take something from the caravan. Tolly, come and help me choose.” He glanced at Gabriel who was rubbing his stubbled chin, the network of crinkles around his eyes showing deeper than ever before. The showman looked as if he had aged ten years in the past five minutes.
“I should have known. I felt it was all wrong from that first knock. We shouldn’t have let them in.” He punched his left palm with his right fist. “This was my fault, lads.”
Jem loped back across the stone floor and gripped Gabriel’s arm. “No. This is my house – I should have protected her. We’ll organise a search party from the troupe and the guests. Anyone willing to help should be ready to leave in five minutes. We’ll gather in the courtyard. Tolly and I will bring up Bess and Musket.”
The boys pounded towards the door. As Jem threw it open he paused. A shiver of doubt ran through him. Would they really be able to track Ann?
He squared his shoulders and stepped into the night, calling out in a voice that was much more confident than he felt, First edition “Make sure everyone is warmly dressed. It’s snowing out here.”
Ann’s caravan was on the far side of the circle of carts in the courtyard. A red glass lamp still flickered above the small curved doorway.
“Her shawl – that would be best,” said Tolly, leading the way up the painted steps.
As he pushed the door open, Cleo squealed and leaped from his shoulder. When Jem followed them both inside, the little monkey was scrabbling about in the bedclothes, sniffing and burrowing as if she hoped to find Ann hidden there.