‘Aye to that,’ said Daisy.
‘You don’t have to ride Kyri,’ said Caz. ‘She carries you. It’s as simple as that.’
‘It’s out of the question!’ snapped the old man.
‘No, it’s not! You’ve lost your eye, you’ve done what you had to do and that nearly killed you, and Freyja too. She doesn’t deserve this! She’s one of Bryn’s line! Why must you insist on sacrificing her as well?’
Sir Jonas lurched to his feet. He crossed the chamber to the edge of the rune circle, shaking his fist at Caz.
‘I was the Guardian’s chosen warrior!’ he cried. ‘I was sworn to win the runes long before either you or your father was born, young impudence! I must be mounted! The chanter sings and I must have my time!’
‘Aye to that,’ intoned Charles Fordham-Marshall.
Caz leapt up, the spear in his hand. The blue stone glowed between them.
‘Then I will challenge for Freyja before the God!’ he shouted. ‘She will not be sacrificed!’
Alan drew his sword. ‘Master! Guardians! I would remind you of the sanctity of this place and of our order. Violence in thought, word or deed is forbidden in Council.’ He took Caz’s arm. ‘Sit down, boy. Getting heated solves nothing.’
Sir Jonas bowed. ‘Thank you for your timely reminder, Guardian Armourer.’ His head swam. His heart was throbbing against his ribs as though it would burst. Caz watched him closely as Charles Fordham-Marshall helped him back to his chair.
‘Look at you!’ he said scornfully. ‘You’re not fit for the vigil either. You should stay here too, and let me and Kyri go alone.’
‘Aye to that,’ answered Daisy emphatically.
Sir Jonas shook his head. ‘Freyja will bear us both beyond death, if that’s how it must be,’ he gasped.
‘That’s what you think!’ said Caz, disgusted. ‘You didn’t see what I saw!’
‘So what did you see?’ asked Charles Fordham-Marshall, still smarting from the previous encounter and determined to press his point.
The white face stared at the dark face. ‘If you’re so interested in what happens at World Tree, go yourself and see how much you like it.’
Charles sighed audibly.
Sir Jonas drew himself up. ‘Freyja will bear me before the God and let the Fates decide as they have always done. I will have my time. I will not be denied.’
Caz gripped the edge of the chair, willing himself to remain seated.
‘You won’t be satisfied until all the mares are dead, will you?’ he said bitingly. ‘Or have you conveniently forgotten Mista? She was the first to be hagridden and she died after the second time.’
‘We can hardly forget the foundation mare of the bloodline,’ remarked Guardian Keeper of Hall and Treasury dryly.
‘So what’s it going to be?’ Caz demanded. ‘Freyja dead this time and Rúna the next?’
‘The mare shouldn’t have to go over again,’ put in Alan. ‘I saw the state she was in when she came back last time and I’ve seen the state she’s been in since. We’ve already lost one good mare and we’re getting too thin on the ground in the paddocks. We can’t afford to lose another one while there’s no young stock to bring on. We can’t risk losing that bloodline.’
‘Aye to that,’ said Daisy.
‘Then what are you suggesting?’ asked Sir Jonas. ‘That we avoid visitation until we have bred a replacement? It could take years!’
Charles Fordham-Marshall looked around the circle. ‘I move that we vote on this, Master,’ he suggested.
‘Proceed.’
‘I move that the mare Freyja keep the Hag Night Vigil as the accepted mount of Master Sir Jonas Pring. Guardians, how say you?’
‘Seconded,’ echoed John.
The others remained silent.
Sir Jonas sighed. ‘Once again Council is divided. Yet we have no choice, we must reach resolution on this matter. Guardian Armourer has already stated his case for disapproval before Council. Guardian Keeper of Hearth and Keys, what say you?’
Daisy answered. ‘Only that I’ve heard and seen enough about the mare’s behaviour to doubt whether she would be a safe mount for the Master under the circumstances of visitation. Why not prepare Rúna in her place?’
Alan sat very still. ‘It’s a question of maturity as well as training for a mare to survive the vigil,’ he said quietly.
‘Guardian Spear-Bearer and Second Horsemaster, what is your response?’ asked Sir Jonas.
Caz shrugged. ‘You’re number one, I’m only the Second Horsemaster. Anything I say counts for nothing.’
‘On the contrary, Second Horsemaster’s opinion is equally valid before Council. I ask you again, according to your professional opinion, would Rúna make a suitable replacement for her mother in the face of visitation?’
Caz looked at the floor. He could only tell the truth. ‘Mares need more than their fair share of courage and stamina to survive Hag Night,’ he answered reluctantly. ‘Bryn didn’t flinch, not once. She fought and died but she was found worthy. She was praised. Guardian Armourer is right. Rúna’s not ready. She won’t make it.’ He felt Alan relax beside him.
‘And the other mare?’ asked Charles Fordham-Marshall. ‘She’s of the same bloodline, albeit three generations removed.’
‘She’s too far removed and too placid. If my offer to go on foot is refused, then there’s no alternative but to prepare Freyja.’
He flexed his fingers, feeling the rapidly healing scar tissue on his left hand stretch and snap. Drops of dark blood wetted his palm. And so I betray her too, he thought. He locked defiant eye contact with the old man. ‘But if she comes through, I move that she’s to be rested and sent to stud, to Kyri’s sire. We don’t even consider risking her at World Tree a third time!’
‘Seconded,’ said Alan immediately.
‘Aye to that,’ said Daisy.
Charles Fordham-Marshall turned to Sir Jonas. ‘Master, how say you?’
The old man cleared his throat. ‘I say that we lack sufficient evidence and information to come to a well reasoned decision regarding Freyja’s future this side of Hag Night. I move that we defer the motion until the February meeting.’
‘Seconded,’ responded John.
‘Aye to that,’ agreed Daisy.
‘Aye to that,’ said Alan quietly.
‘Do you accept deferment, Guardian Spear-Bearer?’ asked Charles Fordham-Marshall. There was no mistaking the note of smug satisfaction in his voice.
‘It’ll do for now, but Freyja will have to come back unmarked for me to change my mind. Unmarked! Remember that in your records, Guardian Archivist!’
‘It’ll be noted,’ said John.
‘And I’ll be on watch at Thunderslea,’ said Alan. ‘This time I’ll be armed.’
Sir Jonas stood up, holding the silver chalice. ‘Is Council agreed and beyond dispute?’
The Guardians signalled their agreement by silently sheathing their knives and letting their hoods fall over their faces.
‘In deference to Guardian Spear-Bearer’s exemption from the Oath of Allegiance, we have agreed to forgo the rite of fealty customary for us all at the initiation of a new candidate, but I move that we share the traditional stirrup cup before parting, if such action does not further jeopardise his warrior vows?’
Caz looked up. ‘It doesn’t,’ he said, surprised at the look of pure enmity that flashed momentarily in the blue eye.
‘Very well.’ The Master spoke the traditional words of parting. ‘Go with the blessing of all good men, that the High One look well upon you and favour you, and be not treacherous.’
The Guardians answered with one voice. ‘Aye to that and good hunting!’
The robed and hooded figures filed clockwise around the circle, each taking a mouthful of the sacred mead before they left the Council Chamber. Caz laid the spear over his shoulder and fell into step at the end of the line. The Master’s blue eye was benign as he took the cup, but he wasn’t fooled.
Yes, there is always the risk of treachery, he thought. I must remain vigilant.
Sir Jonas was the last to leave. He pressed his stick into the shallow recess in the floor beside his chair. The rune circle and the sea-blue stone sank out of sight. The two halves of the ring of grey flagstones slid together, rose to floor level and locked into place. He extinguished the candles one by one, leaving the last bright flame to gutter, almost spent, in a pool of molten wax.
He stood before the image of the God to make his final salute. Council was concluded and he was vowed to do everything in his power to bring Guardian Spear-Bearer once more to the Place of Judgement beneath World Tree, where each of their dearest wishes would be granted. The sacrifice would be made and the favoured would be free to ride his Galdramerr far into forever, never to return to the Shadowed World – while he, Jonas, Master of the Guardians, would receive the Runes of the Deathless from the hands of the Valkyrs and come home triumphant with the great culmination of his life’s work gloriously accomplished.
‘I am the chosen warrior,’ he whispered. ‘I will have my time.’
The blue eye gleamed. The light went out.
NOVEMBER
CHAPTER 38
The image of a raven plummeting down towards an unsuspecting prey flashed into Caz’s consciousness, taking his attention from the floor exercises he was doing. Sensing danger, he closed his eyes, hunting the source. It was a skill he had yet to perfect.
He focused his awareness on Kyri and the manor. She was in the paddock, alert but calm. The danger wasn’t immediate. It wasn’t local. There was nothing going on in the forest, but it was something to do with whatever was happening at the house. He continued the exercises, frustrated at his lack of vision, while his mother answered the phone in the office.
‘Meane Manor House, good afternoon,’ she said confidently.
An unknown female voice with a West-Country accent replied. ‘Could I speak with Mrs Madeleine Wylde, please?’
Maddie stiffened. ‘Speaking.’
‘I’m calling from Plymouth General Hospital. I’m afraid Mr Franklin Wylde was admitted as an emergency case early this morning.’
Maddie felt her heart shrink to an intangible point in the middle of her chest. She swallowed hard. ‘Why? What’s the matter with him?’
‘I’m sorry to tell you that he is very seriously ill.’
‘How serious?’
‘He may not have long to live. If you wish to see him it would be best if you came as soon as possible.’
‘Could you give me a minute, please?’
‘Yes, of course.’
Maddie thought rapidly. Her father-in-law shouldn’t be left to die alone. They would all have to go, Caz included, whatever he might say to the contrary. Jemima would hate it, but hopefully Jasper’s sense of family duty would overcome the antipathy they all felt towards their father’s father. Alan would take care of the horses and Sara would look after the cats – but the office renovations had held up a lot of work and Daisy’s long overdue weekend off would have to be cancelled.
How can we possibly leave at the moment? Maddie wondered miserably. But how can we not?
‘We won’t be able to be with him until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest,’ she replied cautiously.
‘I’m sure that will be fine.’
‘Thank you, but you will let me know if anything happens in the meantime, won’t you?’
‘Yes, of course.’
Maddie hung up the phone. She stared out of the window at the grey and unforgiving morning, searching through her worst memories and not liking what she was finding. She put her fingers to her throbbing temples.
I can’t bear that hospital! Please don’t let that dreadful old man be conscious when we get there. Please let him be dead!
She went to the library to tell Sir Jonas the news. He was armed with a feather duster and busily sorting books on the shelves, while Sara set up her new workstation on a long table Alan and John had just brought in.
‘Good morning, my dear Madame Madeleine!’ the old man called out happily. ‘I’m involved in a little housekeeping before the Lady Sara begins her great work in good earnest. How fortunate we are to have her!’
‘We are indeed,’ Maddie agreed.
Sir Jonas saw her frowning. ‘Is there anything amiss, my dear?’
‘I’ve just had a call from the hospital in Plymouth. My father-in-law is very ill and apparently dying. They expect us to be there tomorrow.’
The old man straightened his eyepatch and cleared his throat.
‘At last it has come,’ he said softly, more to himself than to her.
‘Yes, I’m afraid so,’ she answered miserably.
Sara gave her a much needed hug. ‘What can I do to help?’ she asked. ‘Shall I call Jas?’
Maddie nodded. ’Yes, please, and I’ll call the school and get Caz and Jem out of class. Just this once I don’t think either of them will be glad to come home.’
‘No, I don’t think they will,’ agreed Sara.
Jemima got the message first and went to the gym to tell Caz. She was chewing her upper lip as she always did when she was particularly upset.
‘We’ve got to go to Plymouth,’ she said woodenly.
‘Why?’
‘The secretary just got me out of class. Ma phoned. Grandpa Wylde’s had a heart attack or a stroke, or something. He’s in the hospital. They say he’s dying this time.’
‘So why do we have to go?’
‘Ma says we must.’
Caz picked up a towel from the bench beside the door. ‘I can’t see why. Grandpa never went out of his way to make us like him from the day we were born. Why would he want us holding his hand now?’
‘She said it’s our duty to go because we’re his only family.’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe he’ll be dead by the time we get there.’
‘Let’s hope so. If he snuffs it before we leave, even Ma won’t be able to find any good reason why you and I should have to drag ourselves halfway across the country, just to sit around watching her and Jas sorting something they can handle by themselves.’
He wiped the sweat out of his eyes and saw that Jemima was trembling. He put his fingers under her chin, looking into her eyes. ‘Hey, don’t let Grandpa’s crap fuss you any more, Jem. He’s on the way out now. He might even be dead already and we can have a great week out of school deeply grieving our dear departed grandfather. It’ll be fun, right?’
The trembling subsided. She forced a smile. ‘But he scares me stiff. I wish we didn’t have to go.’
‘He scared all of us. Jas and I used to think he did it on purpose to see how much we could take.’
Jemima swallowed nervously. ‘He didn’t really, did he?’
‘Who knows? At least Grandma Em was normal. When are we supposed to be going?’
‘First thing tomorrow morning. It won’t be much of a birthday for you, will it?’
He shrugged. ‘It’ll be one of the best if we’re finally going to be rid of him. Is someone coming to get us?’
‘Ma’s ordered a taxi. It’ll be here in a couple of minutes. Sir Jonas wants a meeting to arrange everything.’
Her phone rang. She groaned when she saw the screen. ‘More messages from Lauren! She says to tell you she’s away with her parents until Monday and that she has never been so humiliated in her entire life.’
‘There’s always a first time,’ he said ironically. ‘Why did you give her your number?’
‘I didn’t! I don’t like her enough for that!’
‘So who did then?’
‘No one I know. It’s really weird. I don’t know how she got it, unless she saw it when I gave it to Julien at the pub.’
‘You don’t like her much, do you?’
‘No, I don’t,’ she admitted. ‘There’s something about her that gets my hackles up, like Blue when he knows there’s something not right going on.’
‘When the sibyl speaks, pay heed. Is that it?’
&n
bsp; ’I suppose so. She’s driving me nuts.’
‘So tell her not to.’
Jemima sighed. ‘I hate doing this agony aunt stuff. If she’s an ex, why don’t you just tell her and be done with it?’
‘She doesn’t need any more telling. If she won’t take no for an answer, it’s up to her.’
‘So why don’t you write her a poem, or something?’
Caz headed for the changing rooms. ‘Tell the taxi I’ll be five minutes.’
‘I’ll ask Ma what the going rate is for personal assistants these days,’ she shouted after him. ‘Or do I get more if I’m your private secretary?’
CHAPTER 39
Sir Jonas sat at the head of the long dining table, his gold pen placed precisely parallel to the notebook in front of him. Daisy handed around tumblers of hot honey and raspberry cordial, her preferred remedy in times of crisis. John gave Caz the coffee pot and passed around plates of biscuits.
We’re all sitting in our party places, thought Jemima. Except that the chair next to her where Laurence used to sit was empty, which for a moment seemed strange. Sara sat between Alan and Jasper, with her notebook open and pen poised. As usual Caz was sitting at the far end of the table opposite the old man.
The Guardians of the Runes of the Deathless and guests, he reflected, amused. The guests have no idea how scary these ordinary little people look when they’re all dressed up in their robes and hoods in that other room downstairs. It would be worth them getting all the gear on just to see the look on Jas’s face.
He had tried to get back into the Council Chamber but the door to the vestibule was locked and the quick check through the key cupboard told him that Daisy had other arrangements for the security of that particular suite of rooms. Her heart was beating too fast again and there was a weird undercurrent of anxiety around the table. He focused his attention on each heartbeat in turn, surprised at the conclusion.
It’s a Guardian thing. But why should they be bothered about us going to Plymouth? Even Al’s heartbeat’s lost its usual cool. I’ll tackle him about it as soon as we get back. There’s a whole lot of stuff about that meeting he hasn’t told me and I need to know where I stand with the Bank.
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