Master of the Books

by James Moloney

  Dedication

  For David, Teresa, Greg and Andrew

  Contents

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE

  Chapter 1: Marcel

  Chapter 2: Nicola

  Chapter 3: Fergus

  Chapter 4: The Nature and Magic of Curses

  Chapter 5: Spring in Grenvey

  Chapter 6: Tilwith and the Giant

  Chapter 7: A Different Witch in a Different Forest

  Chapter 8: The Marshes

  Chapter 9: To Learn the Sorcerer’s Arts

  Chapter 10: Weather Magic

  Chapter 11: Miss Breda

  Chapter 12: Cadell

  Chapter 13: Under Siege

  Chapter 14: Dragon’s Tooth

  Chapter 15: Reunited

  Chapter 16: Like a Spider

  Chapter 17: Condemned to Death

  Chapter 18: Beneath the Citadel

  Chapter 19: The Taurine

  Chapter 20: On Trial for their Lives

  Chapter 21: Truth and Treachery

  Chapter 22: Sergeant of the Watch

  Chapter 23: A Memory Reclaimed

  Chapter 24: Queen Demiter

  Chapter 25: On Battle’s Eve

  Chapter 26: Sorcerer Against Sorcerer

  Chapter 27: What Good is Magic?

  Chapter 28: Mêlée

  Excerpt from The Book of Lies

  EPILOGUE

  About the Author

  Praise

  Copyright

  Prologue

  FEW TRAVELLERS BRAVED THE treacherous mountain passes to reach the forests of Tannock Noor and that was the very reason one man had gone there to live. His name is not important to this story; what matters is the magic that was born in his bones. He was a farseer, one who could look into the future and know what would happen tomorrow, or next week, or ten years from now.

  The magic was unnaturally strong and he had little control over it. Without warning, without reason, he knew the actions of others before they knew themselves, and if he touched naked skin — a hand, a face, even the brush of an arm as someone passed by — fragments of that stranger’s fate broke vividly into his mind. When his powers became known, people pestered him for his prophecies, so he fled to Tannock Noor and built himself a house in that farflung place, where only the most determined came to ask what lay ahead in their lives.

  The house was a simple affair set back a little from the only road that wound through the forest. There was a front room with comfortable chairs where he entertained those who wouldn’t be deterred by the long distances and still came to consult him, a bedroom for himself and another for his servant, and at the back, a kitchen for their meals.

  ‘Stoke the fire and put the soup on to warm,’ the seer told his servant one morning early in autumn.

  There had been no messenger to warn of guests, but the servant knew his master’s powers. ‘How many visitors?’

  ‘Two, a man and a woman.’

  An hour passed and then the seer opened the front door of his house to look along the road that was darkened by tall pines on either side. Slowly, two figures on horseback emerged from the gloom: the man in a dark cloak that matched his hair; the woman, young and all the prettier for the smile that danced lightly across her features.

  I don’t need magic to tell a woman in love, the seer said to himself, and that bracelet on her wrist is solid gold. If it’s a gift from her companion, then he loves her too. To the young couple, he called, ‘I’ve been waiting for you. Come inside, the soup is ready.’

  They stared at one another, impressed, then slipped down from their horses and came to stand in front of him. The seer folded his arms into the loose sleeves of his coat.

  ‘They told me you wouldn’t shake my hand,’ said the man.

  ‘Not at first, no. That’s how the magic works. I suppose they told you that as well.’

  ‘Yes,’ said the woman, who seemed eager to begin. ‘We’ve come to find out the omens for when we marry. So far we’ve kept our love from our families and friends, and before we tell them the news we want to be sure that —’

  ‘We want to know if there will be children,’ said the man, cutting impatiently across his lover’s explanation.

  It wasn’t the first time the seer had been consulted on such a matter. ‘Come inside.’

  ‘I would prefer to settle the contract first, if you don’t mind,’ said the man, taking a bag of gold from his belt. To release the purse, he’d flicked his cloak aside, revealing a dagger with gleaming rubies set into the handle.

  ‘If you wish,’ said the seer, although he was becoming irritated by the man’s cold manner. ‘The contract between a farseer and his client is quite plain and never varies, no matter if it is a king or a cowherd who comes seeking my prophecies. I pledge to tell you all that my powers reveal, whether good or bad, and in return you pledge to hear all that I have seen, whether you wish to hear it or not. Are we agreed?’

  ‘Agreed.’

  The gold was passed to the seer, who in turn gave it to his servant when he appeared at the door moments later.

  ‘Good, now we can get started,’ said the visitor and, reaching out, he took hold of the seer’s hand.

  Their skins had barely touched before the seer snatched his hand away.

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Oh, forgive me if I seemed abrupt,’ the seer said, forcing a smile. But there was something wrong. Even that brief touch of flesh had felt like an ember taken red and glowing from the fire. There was something sinister in this man’s heart, and although the seer hadn’t held his hand long enough for a vision to form, he was wary of him now.

  He held out his hand to the woman, wondering whether he would detect the same blackness within her. He couldn’t have been more wrong, he found, but the relief meant that he held on to her naked hand longer than he intended, long enough for images to form that frightened him even more.

  ‘You’ve begun to see our future already, haven’t you,’ said the man.

  ‘Yes, enough to know that it will be difficult to discover more. I’ll need water from the stream you passed some distance back. It is the purest water in these parts and will make my vision come clear. Would you mind fetching a jugful for me?’

  ‘If it will help.’

  As soon as the man was gone, the seer ushered the woman into his parlour. ‘Young lady, there are things about this man you want to marry that disturb me. He has a lust for power such as I have never felt before. Tell me, do you have any ties with royalty or great wealth?’

  ‘My family is descended from kings and my sister is the Queen of Elster.’

  ‘Elster, where the new king has no royal blood in his veins at all. Then that is why this man wants to marry you. No matter what he has told you, he doesn’t love you. He wants power for himself, and you are no more than a tool he will use to get it.’

  The young woman turned white with shock. ‘Doesn’t love me? No, your visions are wrong.’ In her distress, she lunged forward and grabbed the seer’s hands between her own. ‘Tell me this isn’t true.’

  She might have gone on begging if she hadn’t seen his face at that moment and looked down at her hands to see what she had done. ‘My skin against yours. You’ve seen more, haven’t you?’

  Anguish radiated from the seer’s eyes like heat from the sun and she knew better than to ask if he had glimpsed happier days.

  ‘It’s something awful,’ she whispered.

  He turned away so that he didn’t have to look into her innocent face, but she was stronger than he’d imagined and forced him to meet her eyes.

  ‘Say it,’ she demanded. ‘You made a pledge, the seer’s oath, you must tell me everything that has come to your mind.�
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  ‘Yes, a pledge to you both, which I cannot break. What I tell you I must also tell your companion when he returns.’

  ‘Then tell me first, at least.’

  The seer let out a weary sigh through his nostrils. ‘You are carrying his baby inside your body, that is what I see.’

  The woman put one hand to her mouth, the other gently on her stomach. ‘A baby … I didn’t know.’

  This news stunned her, but also helped her make sense of the story that was unfolding around her. ‘He’s talked about a baby ever since we first kissed. He didn’t want to marry until he was sure I could give him a child. That’s why we came to Tannock Noor to hear your prophecy. What will happen now? You’ve seen more, haven’t you?’

  Closing his eyes, the seer glimpsed the future in ghostly shadows and cursed this heartless magic he had never sought. ‘You will have a son, and when the boy grows up he will try to kill his father.’

  ‘Kill him!’

  The woman seemed ready to collapse at his feet. The seer took a stout hold of her shoulders and held her upright until the weakness passed.

  ‘What will you do?’ he said. ‘Your companion will be on his way back from the stream by now. I have no choice, I must tell him what I have told you. Listen to me: a heart like his will gladly kill you to make sure this son is never born. He won’t succeed, for I have foreseen the boy’s birth, but after that, there is nothing to stop him killing the baby before he’s a day old.’

  When the woman seemed incapable of making a decision, the seer took matters into his own hands. ‘Come with me,’ he said, leading her towards the rear of the house, calling for his servant as he went.

  Bewildered by the revelations, the woman moved slowly, too slowly for the seer who tugged her behind him by the hand. The golden bracelet swung wildly, knocking against his wrist as they hurried towards the back door. Those few touches were enough to bring a fresh vision to his mind. He put it aside when his servant appeared.

  ‘Take this woman deep into the forest,’ he ordered. ‘Stay with her until she can find her way alone. The man I sent off to the stream must never find her. Quickly, make a bundle with whatever you need. He will be here soon.’

  The servant hurried around the kitchen gathering whatever food was easy to hand and then raced off to fetch a blanket. While they waited, the seer pointed to the bracelet on the woman’s wrist and said, ‘That isn’t yours, is it?’

  ‘My sister lets me wear it, but it’s still hers, a gift from her husband, the king.’

  ‘Your sister is expecting a baby also.’

  ‘Yes, but she only told me a week ago and no one else knows, not even the king. How could you —?’ What a foolish question, she realised. This man saw the future as clearly as if it were happening before his eyes. ‘You’ve seen something about my sister.’

  ‘Not the mother, but her child. It will be a boy also. Tell your sister her son will be born with sorcery in his bones, as I was. How strong, I cannot tell, but I foresee this much: magic will make him a troubled young man.’

  The servant returned, and as soon as everything had been tied into the blanket he led the way into the forest without letting the woman pause even to wave a desolate farewell. The seer stood in the doorway and watched her go.

  CHAPTER 1

  Marcel

  THE BOY CROUCHED WITH his back pressed hard against a water barrel, his chest heaving and his legs aching from too much hard running. He swallowed between desperate gasps and dared a glance into the courtyard. ‘Can’t see them,’ he whispered to the black cat he clutched in his arms.

  He was not a child any more, though not yet a man. His unruly brown hair, the colour of the rich soil prized by Elster’s farmers, came level with his father’s shoulder when they stood side by side. His eyes were the same colour and brought whispered comments that he had inherited them from his mother.

  ‘Time to escape,’ the boy informed the cat and, jumping to his feet, he darted across the courtyard towards the stables.

  ‘There he is, kill him!’ came the cry.

  The boy cursed and changed direction, heading away from the stables instead. Turning to judge how far ahead he was, he saw a groom lead a horse into the sunlight, and behind the horse, two boys running towards him. One was short and painfully thin; the other limped noticeably.

  The fugitive slowed his pace, and when he reached a high stone wall stopped altogether, making no attempt to escape from this trap.

  ‘We’ve got you now!’ said the shorter boy, brandishing a sword. ‘We’ll slice your guts out and hang them from a pole in the town square.’

  The cornered victim seemed unperturbed by this violent threat. He passed his right hand slowly before his face and muttered a line of verse under his breath. Instantly, the sword in his attacker’s hand burst into flames, and since it was made of wood continued to burn even after its owner had dropped it onto the cobblestones.

  The black cat now jumped to the ground where it tossed its head back jauntily, as though applause were in order for the deft landing. Behind it, the boy chanted another rhythmic verse and suddenly the cat was a savage beast, its fearsome head level with the boys. Sunlight caught the black fur, making it shimmer and dance as the creature’s tensed muscles rippled from its shoulders to the tip of its wickedly swishing tail. The startled attackers fell back onto their bottoms, terrified and at the mercy of the advancing creature.

  They weren’t the only ones to be afraid. The horse the groom was leading spotted the danger and reared on its hind legs, its panicked neighing setting off a string of snorts and whinnies from inside the stables. Then as quickly as the snarling, blood-chilling menace had appeared, it vanished, leaving only the black cat in its place.

  The boys began to laugh, and held their arms outstretched so the young magician could haul them to their feet. The horses were not as easily calmed, however. Grooms rushed to and fro, trying to defuse the chaos, but a chestnut stallion bucked and shook its head until the halter snapped and it was free to gallop out through the palace gates.

  ‘That was great, Marcel,’ said the skinny lad, now on his feet. His name was Hugh, and turning to his limping companion he said, ‘What about you, Dominic? I thought Termagant was going to eat us alive.’

  Before Dominic could utter a word, a man burst into the courtyard from the palace shouting, ‘Douse that fire! You there, get a bucket from the well before the flames reach the roof!’

  The boys quickly saw what he was so alarmed about. Two posts at the entrance to the stables were ablaze, and if the flames reached the thatched roof, the entire structure would quickly burn to the ground. Fortunately a team of stable hands jumped to obey and the disaster was averted.

  The angry man set out across the cobblestones towards the three boys. ‘Marcel! You did this, didn’t you? Might have destroyed the whole palace!’

  An exaggeration, the boy wanted to say, but he thought it best to apologise. ‘Sorry, Chancellor. I just wanted to set Hugh’s sword alight, that’s all.’

  ‘And your magic jumped its bounds. It’s hardly the first time.’

  The chancellor was a great bear of a man, the foxfur stole around his shoulders adding to his animal appearance and his face made more menacing by a thick ginger beard. His chain of office swayed like a pendulum as he stamped out the flames still devouring the wooden sword at their feet.

  ‘If your father had known what silly games you’d get up to, he’d never have let your friends come to live here in the palace,’ he said. He glanced over his shoulder towards the stables. ‘And frightening the king’s horses with your tricks. That would be bad enough, but when such childishness takes you away from your books … How can you expect to become a skilled sorcerer like Lord Alwyn if you shirk your duty this way? And where are your robes? You look like any other boy in the kingdom without them.’

  ‘I’m sorry, my lord,’ Marcel answered meekly. ‘The robes are in my room, with the books.’

  ‘Then go back to
your room and put them on. Perhaps they will get you in the mood for study.’

  Hugh and Dominic were dismissed and the chancellor escorted Marcel into the palace where their progress was stopped by the king. King Pelham was not as broad-shouldered and intimidating as the chancellor, but he carried himself with a regal bearing that commanded respect from even the highest born. Unlike the chancellor, though, King Pelham was well liked, especially by the servants, who could always expect a word of praise to encourage them in their work.

  ‘My son has been causing trouble, has he?’

  ‘It’s not the first time, Your Majesty. He should be studying.’

  ‘And so he will, Chancellor, but leave him with me for a moment. Come on, Marcel, we’ll go to the Great Hall.’

  The king pushed aside a heavy oak door and led his son into an enormous chamber. Sunlight angled dramatically from the windows set high on one side of the wall opposite, creating white-gold sunbeams so intense the newcomers had to shield their eyes.

  The sunlight illuminated a wall covered by a tapestry that depicted the kingdom’s history in intricately embroidered scenes. The king led Marcel slowly along the full length of tapestry, ignoring the stories of his predecessors. When finally he stopped, they were standing before the picture of a crowned figure hand in hand with a woman whose brown hair fell to her waist. Beside the woman was her daughter, and next to the girl, two boys.

  If only their eyes could stay on this scene alone but already the king’s hand was moving to another. Marcel reached up as well and both father and son touched that same brown-haired woman who now lay dead, a goblet of poisoned wine spilled by her side. Beneath the prostrate figure her name was embroidered in gold: Ashlere.

  ‘Has your magic brought back any memory?’ Pelham asked.

  ‘No, Father. Even though Lord Alwyn has been dead for a year, his magic still blocks my mind every time I try to remember her.’

  This was the cruellest thing. Not only was Marcel’s mother dead, but the great wizard, Lord Alwyn, had erased all memory of Queen Ashlere from her son’s mind. The wizard had done the same to Marcel’s sister and brother too. The reasons were depicted elsewhere in the tapestry but for now Marcel preferred not to seek them out. Instead his eyes hunted for the murderers whose names were also sewn for all to see: Damon; Eleanor.