‘You’ve wasted six out of your twenty-four hours,’ Jack snarled. ‘Try that again and I’ll take six more off her life.’
He turned and strode out of the room. Once again, the quill and parchment were placed on the table and the torch put back on the wall.
Only six, thought Antrobus. It seemed so much longer.
But he had learned something. It was a small thing, but even small things seemed like big victories. Only another alchemist could have judged it was nonsense ...
The quill and parchment lay untouched on the table as Antrobus sat and thought.
*
In the golden glow of their own cave at the top of the palace, the young women worked on. The strange mixture of urine, sand and charcoal was on one furnace; on the other was an alembic with the mixture containing the sulphur Emily had ground. Outside, Harcourt’s relief – a short, mournful-looking man called Job – kept a vigilant watch. Jenny had suggested that the man might like to come inside. He was tempted; the company of three girls working in companionable harmony had a definite appeal. He thought he could overlook the smell and the smoke and vapours coming from the furnaces. But the sudden flashes of blinding light, the odd green glow that came and went on the table, not to mention the occasional and unexpected explosion, were rather unsettling. Politely, he declined and settled himself on a chair in front of the workroom door. Every so often, through the thick wood, he heard a rumble, a bang or the shattering of glass and he felt quite pleased with himself that he had made the right decision.
Within, Jenny experimented with the waxy substance. She varied quantities and temperature; she noted, with some concern, how it reacted with almost everything. It was trial and error all night, and on more than one occasion, all three had to rush to the balcony as harsh, biting fumes filled the room. She was like a master chef; directing sous-chefs, mixing this ingredient with that, precise with quantities and not happy until it was just as she saw in her head. If she had wanted only one thing to happen, the night would have been far shorter for them. But what she had in mind called for two things to happen, one complementing the other.
Choosing the right containers for her concoction also gave them some problems. It was Frida who came up with the solution. At the time, hollow balls of coloured glass, about the size of a melon and with a small hole at the top, were in vogue as candleholders. They were considered very romantic by the women, and very impractical by the men. As a consequence, they became very popular, for women have always been far more optimistic than their experience would warrant. Frida sent Job to scour the palace and bring back at least a dozen. Naturally, he was reluctant to leave his post, and only agreed when Frida lifted him off his chair and dangled him like a baby.
Emily and Frida watched in amazement as the pig’s urine, charcoal and sand in one side of the alembic became a white, waxy mound – Lucifer’s Light – under the water in the other part. It seemed like witchcraft, only they didn’t believe in such nonsense, and besides, Jenny didn’t look anything like the wretched, wicked hags described in the tales told to children.
Job returned with twelve of the glass candleholders. He cast a worried glance at Frida.
‘You didn’t say what colour you wanted,’ he said, his thin face looking even more doleful. ‘Got some of each.’
Frida thanked him, kissed his whiskery cheek and pushed him out the door.
So, the night passed and the day came. The fire in the furnaces, which had burned so hot a few hours before, slowly cooled and died; the barrels of sand and urine sat empty and discarded; the benches were strewn with crucibles and empty jars, and dusted with spilled powder and marked by stains. Amid all this, the three young friends worked on.
*
The morning sun hadn’t even had time to warm the backs of the birds that soared in the sky when Ewan stood at Rayker’s door. As soon as he knocked, the door opened and Rayker stepped aside to let him in.
‘What did you find?’ Rayker asked when Ewan was seated.
The forest ward repeated what he had told Jenny and Emily the night before. To an outsider, it might have looked as if Rayker was ignoring him, for he stared into the empty fireplace as Ewan spoke, and for several seconds after he had finished.
‘We can’t get in but we can stop them getting out,’ he said at last. ‘It would seem we have a stalemate.’
‘Perhaps not,’ said Ewan. ‘Jenny thinks she knows a way to get them out.’
‘That’s what she’s been working on all night, then,’ Rayker said.
Ewan wasn’t surprised that Rayker knew. Rayker always seemed to know things.
‘We’ll go and have a little talk to her when we finish here,’ Rayker continued. ‘Can we get men above the rear entrance?’
‘You could position three or four men directly above, overlooking the trail. Once the outlaws leave the cave they have to travel in single file, so even two men, good with a bow, could stop them getting back in.’
‘And the ravine; double or single file?’
‘Double, for men walking.’
‘Horses?’
Ewan gave a shake of his head. ‘That stumped me for a bit. You could ride a horse into the caves from both sides, but I doubt the inside is big enough for twenty or so men and the same number again of horses. I scouted around. I found them just north-west of the pass. They’ve built a paddock and tack hut in a clearing nearby.’
‘It seems,’ Rayker said, ‘the trick is to find a way to get them out, make sure they leave through the back to the north, then trap them along the ravine.’
‘That won’t be easy. The ravine is narrow, but it twists and turns. There are also places where they can climb the sides. You’d need a lot of men to cover all of it and it would still be possible for some of the outlaws to slip through. I think you’re better off letting them get through the ravine and then take them as they head for the horses.’
Rayker grunted. ‘You’ve seen the land. I’ll take your advice.’
‘What’s happened to Cross and Frick?’ Ewan asked.
‘They’re safely locked away.’
‘The others will wonder why they didn’t come back last night.’
Rayker dismissed the problem. ‘Last night they wouldn’t have wondered. They’ll think they’ve slipped into Vale for a drink or some female companionship, and they’ll curse and envy the pair of them. Tonight will be different. Tonight they will wonder. That’s why we have to move today. But, warned or not, it’ll make no difference if we can’t get them to come out. I think it’s time to have that talk with Jenny.’
*
With great care, Jenny took a small lump of the Lucifer’s Light from the water. As it rose into the air, it flared brightly, emitting a green glow. She dropped it into a glass ball. As quick as she could, Emily poured some of the solution Jenny had prepared over it. The green lump in the ball dulled and the glow faded. Then Frida used cork, wax and cloth to seal the hole in the ball. Jenny didn’t know how much of the Lucifer’s Light she should use, as there’d been no time to test it properly outside the workroom. She’d just pictured the inside of the cave in her head and tried to estimate the size. She hoped her quantities were sufficient.
In the end, they had enough for seven glass balls. When each one was filled and sealed, they packed them, like fragile eggs, in small boxes, one in each, cushioned in hay and wool. As she put the last ball into its box, Jenny held it in her hand and said softly, ‘The light is now a candle: Lucifer’s Candle.’
She laid it in its nest.
The three friends looked at each other; they were all tired and filthy and their faces were streaked with soot. Despite the apron she wore, Emily’s clothes were stained and she had even managed to burn a hole in the sleeve of her shift. They were weary but happy.
Rayker and Ewan arrived shortly after. They listened, without interrupting, while Jenny told them what they had made and how it was to work. There were no questions. The two men offered their thanks and went off to do thei
r task. The young ladies didn’t bother to tidy the workroom. They closed the door behind them and headed for Rumpkin’s, to wash and eat – and wait.
Chapter 16
Jack’s Goblins
Queerwood lived. Its breath was the shirring of birds in flight and the susurration of the soft wind in the trees. Its blood was the rivers and streams that pumped from its mountains and flowed through its valleys. Its heartbeat was the unnoticed sounds of its creatures as they lived and died. It was an ancient being that had been born long before the first brick of Vale was shaped from mud. It had boundaries but no limits; left to itself it would have spread its limbs forever. It accepted all who came within it, and judged none. Villain or hero, they abided by its laws or suffered its penalties.
It had true magic, magic without sorcery or artifice. It had the magic of everything, always, being possible. There was nothing so fanciful, nothing so queer, that it wasn’t possible within it.
Ewan loved the forest. After Lucy and Jenny, he loved no being more. He had always loved it, even as a boy. He would stand at the walls of Vale and look out over Queerwood. Past the limits of his keen eyes, it covered the land south of Vale. He knew even then that the forest was an indifferent sentinel, a guardian that cared not for the city but yet succoured it and preserved it. It kept Vale connected to the earth from which it had been built. He had dreamed of living in the forest when he was older, and when he was chosen as a clerk for his learning, he was inconsolable. Something deep inside him refused to believe that he wouldn’t one day be part of it. When Emeric’s uncle, David, asked him to accompany him on his travels, he readily said yes. He knew at that moment that the adventure would lead him back to Queerwood.
On a day such as this one, Ewan should have been content. The forest was at its best. The early spring had continued. The mid-morning sky was a brilliant blue and the sun warmed his skin and muscles. But he wasn’t; he knew that soon the peace of the forest would be broken, and men would die.
Rayker had split his forces. He had sent Declan and nine men back the way they had travelled the day before. The soldiers grumbled about marching all the way back but nonetheless they tramped briskly to their destination. They were to make for the river and the bridge Ewan had seen. By the time they got there, Rayker and the other twenty men would be in position. When Rayker gave the signal, it would begin.
Declan knew that at the start of the attack, he and his men would face the most danger. They had to make the outlaws believe that they were being attacked from the west. That way, when they fled, they’d run north for the ravine. If Jenny’s idea worked.
Rayker had decided against recruiting more volunteers from the barracks. If things went as intended, they had enough. If the plan went awry, more men wouldn’t help. The men who’d been with him the previous three days had been told to be ready as soon as the sun was up. Within half an hour of visiting the workroom, Rayker had sent Declan on his way. The march back the day before had taken seven hours, so they would arrive at the river by early afternoon. It would only take Ewan, Rayker and the other men about two hours to get to their position on the far side of the ravine but Rayker decided to leave at the same time as Declan. He’d prefer the men waiting in Vale and alert rather than waiting, distracted only by cards or draughts or dice.
Thirty-two men had marched through the rusted gates of Vale. Ten had continued on towards the south; twenty-two had turned to the east along the Old Road.
*
The Old Road had been built a thousand years before by the toil of slaves under the yoke of the mighty Roman Empire. It split the continent from east to west, joining city after city. Over the centuries it had crumbled and been repaired in places, but never re-built. It was broad enough for all twenty soldiers to walk abreast, but they had marched in tight ranks of five behind Ewan and Rayker.
About an hour out of Vale, Ewan had told Rayker he would scout ahead. He had walked off the road and into the forest.
That had been over an hour ago. Immersed in the body of Queerwood, he almost wished he hadn’t agreed to help Rayker. He didn’t want to be part of the confrontation to come, a confrontation that would break the harmony of the forest. And he missed Lucy. This was his fourth day away and she couldn’t help but worry. He found himself smiling at the thought of her. She was part of what fixed him to his place in the world.
That thought created another, so very different. He thought of Jack. Jack-o’-Lantern. A man without anything to fix him to a place in the world. So, for him, the world became a place in which nothing was firm, not right or wrong, nor good or bad. The only fixed star in Jack’s universe was Jack. That’s no way for a man to live, thought Ewan. Even a solitary man like Rayker has something to mark his place in the world. For Rayker, Vale is his fixed star.
He passed the grove where the outlaws had their horses, heading for the clifftop that roofed the cave. A faint noise interrupted his thoughts. Without recognising what it was, he knew instantly it wasn’t a noise of the forest. He moved stealthily closer to the grove.
Yesterday, there had been only the horses. The outlaws had put their faith in a crude wooden fence and the easy grazing. Now one sat astride a discarded rail, repairing a bridle. He’d be bound to hear Rayker and the soldiers come through the woods. If he alerted the outlaws in the cave, then Jenny’s plan was ruined. Everything depended on the outlaws being confident that they could escape through the rear of the cave.
Ewan’s conundrum was what he should do. He wasn’t sure when those in the cave would expect their companion to return. If Rayker was right, they’d soon start to wonder what had happened to Cross and Frick. If another went missing, they’d be sure something was awry. Ewan decided to wait. Rayker would arrive in about an hour. If the man was still there in half that time, Ewan would have to risk taking him. Finding a place where he could remain unseen, yet keep the outlaw in view, he sat, his back against a tree, and waited.
*
Antrobus’s quill scratched across the parchment. He cursed himself for his foolish attempt earlier. It had been clumsy and, much worse, it had wasted time. Right now, he needed time. He was gambling everything on this. He was gambling that it would never be read through. He was gambling on his captors keeping him alive until they were sure of what he had written. He was gambling on Pitch.
He wrote furiously, putting on the parchment all that he knew about Morien’s astrolabe and William’s manuscript. He would tell them everything.
*
Ewan uncoiled his legs and watched the outlaw. The man rose, ducked under the fence rail, and slipped the bridle on one of the horses. He led his mount to the small lean-to that protected the saddlery.
Ewan raced through the trees circling the clearing. He was only halfway round when the outlaw heaved himself into the saddle. He kicked his horse into a trot and rode towards the trail to the east. Ewan sacrificed silence for speed. His eyes scanned the ground around the far side of the clearing. He chose a spot and altered direction slightly. He gauged the horse’s speed and his own, and the distance to the place he’d chosen, a rocky outcrop beyond the clearing, where the trail was no more than a hoof-churned path. If he failed to stop the man there, there’d be nothing he could do. The outlaw would spot Rayker and his men and ride back to warn his comrades.
Ewan ran. With every step, he expected the man to hear him. He was nearly there. The outlaw was drawing near the outcrop. If Ewan got there first – and unseen – he’d have a chance to sweep the outlaw from his horse. He skimmed across the rocks, his feet flying. He was nearly there – but the outlaw was level with the rock, and in two strides, would be past. Ewan cursed.
The curse was a blessing. The outlaw heard it. Startled, his first reaction was to rein in his horse and look around. He paused only a second, but it was enough. As the outlaw’s heels came back to spur his horse, Ewan thrust his staff into the ground and vaulted over the outcrop. His feet caught the outlaw in the small of his back and the man crashed to the dirt. Ewan tumb
led beside him and came to his feet. The frightened horse reared and bolted. Ewan let it go. Kept out here, away from the cave, it was unlikely it would run down through the narrow ravine.
From a point above the trail, Ewan watched Rayker and the soldiers approach. Not bad for city soldiers, he thought, Pretty quiet, and you’d have to know you’re looking for them to see them. Except for that horse Ben’s leading. He watched six split off from the others and make their way towards the clearing, while the rest came through the trees on either side of the narrow track.
He climbed down and went to meet Rayker.
‘See you got the horse,’ said Ewan. ‘The man riding him looked like he might be on his way to Vale, so I asked him to wait. Didn’t think it’d do to have him ride back and tell the others they’ve company. He’s over near the lean-to.’
Rayker grunted his thanks.
‘Let’s have a look at the ravine and the back way in. Then we’ll get the men set,’ he said. ‘And then we’ll see what we can do about getting these goblins out of their cave.’
Quietly, they got into position. Six soldiers were hidden along the top of the ravine, Rayker and nine of the men were waiting in the trees and rocks at the end of the ravine and two others were keeping watch over the horses. Ewan and the last three soldiers were on the clifftop above the outlaws’ cave.
At the forest ward’s feet were the boxes containing Lucifer’s Candles. Getting them safely along the ridge of the ravine and up the rock face to the clifftop had been slow and nerve-racking. Rayker had passed on Jenny’s warnings, with some slight embellishment, about what the coloured balls would do to the man who broke one. The three soldiers chosen to go with Ewan, obviously alarmed, carried their boxes slowly and gingerly.
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