by P. A. Wilson
Arabela turned to look at Madeline. “Do you think you can kill someone? It is not easy to take a life.”
“I cannot say for sure. But if Sayer Goddard had hurt Jode, I think it likely I would kill him regardless of your quest.”
“You should rest,” Blu said standing up. “Sir Simon and I must work with the New Questers to ensure the distraction is perfect. Sleep until dusk. When it is dark you will ride out.”
31
They left the camp at dusk. The three who would enter the keep dressed in black, hair tied under black caps, faces smudged with dark color. The Scree would have a difficult time seeing them in shadows.
Simon, Blu, and the band members stopped just inside the tree line at the edge of Goddard’s land. The show would start a half hour after Madeline, Jode, and Arabela left. Allowing them to cross the open space and enter the keep before the band captured the attention of the inhabitants.
“Remember,” Blu said. “We will keep the music playing until you return, but lights will stop every half hour after the first hour. You will have time to run to the tree line if you leave the shadows of the keep as soon as we stop.”
“We will hope to return in the first break,” Jode said.
The group huddled together, hugged each other, and whispered words of encouragement for a few moments before it was time to start. Slipping to the edge of the last tree, the three looked towards the keep; no sentries patrolled the walls or grounds. The keep had slit windows around it from what would be the second floor. Lights shone through one or two of them. On the top of the keep, a light flickered but there was no silhouette of a watcher to worry about.
The keep itself stood like a monolithic monument to defense from a slight rise ringed by a single road. The only entry through a wide gate, now closed, only a small door stood open.
“You wait beside the doorway, while I watch to see when the guard is distracted, and then we will slip inside,” Jode said pointing at the gate. “There will be a staircase to the right. The guard will be in a small room under the stairs. No matter what happens, run up the staircase and through the arch into the corridor. There will be places to hide inside.”
Madeline looked at the approach. Trees provided cover until the last stretch of open ground, about a half kilometer by her estimation. “The moon rise will shorten the shadows from the trees,” she commented. “We will have a longer run in the open as we leave.”
“Yes,” Arabela said. “We need to go now. You follow Sir Jode. I will make sure we do not have any unwelcome members of our party.”
They ran through the trees for what felt to Madeline like fifteen minutes, a jog that was easy for her to keep pace with, but it made noise as they trod through the leaves and needles carpeting the ground. When they approached the edge of the tree line, Jode signaled her to stop. Arabela came up behind and they stood in the shadow of a large tree, taking time to catch their breath and observe the keep again. There were still no sentries, or watchers from the top of the keep.
“He is sure that we will just leave,” Jode said in a low voice. “He will regret that arrogance.”
“If I stand here too long I’ll stiffen up and won’t be able to dash the last stretch.” Madeline bounced on the balls of her feet, not quite running in place. “Are we about to go?”
“There’s no reason not to,” Arabela answered. “It will not get darker and the music will start soon.”
“Madeline, can you run that far in one attempt?” Jode asked. “If not, we can run to that group of shrubs and then rest.”
“No, that will make the distance twice as far, and give them twice the opportunity to see us. Besides, we need to be there before the music starts. Let’s just go.”
“There is no one looking,” Arabela confirmed. “We should run together and quickly.”
They left the safety of the trees together, Madeline mimicking the low loping strides of the other two. The distance was less than she had estimated, only about two hundred meters. It was the longest two minutes she had ever experienced. No one shouted alarm, no lights came on, and she had no feeling of danger. Standing beside the doorway, Madeline looked up at the wall, noticing it wasn’t straight. It leaned slightly out as it rose, from the top of the building, they would be out of sight.
Jode held his hand out palm facing them then lowered it, the signal to wait. He slipped into the doorway and disappeared. Madeline waited for disaster, but there was a roll of drums and a high piercing shriek. The concert had started and nothing had gone wrong, yet. The first song started to unfold. The Stones, Sympathy for the Devil, a good choice. By the time the lyrics started, Jode was back reaching for Madeline to pull her inside through a tunnel. “The guard was asleep. He will stay that way. And no, I did not kill him. I have no wish to start another feud. He will stay asleep for a few hours. That is all.” He pointed up a staircase. “Stay close to the wall as you go, no one will be able to see you in the gloom.”
Arabela led them up the stairs and through an archway into a corridor that circled the keep. The rooms ran along the outside wall. As they slid into a nook, they heard footsteps of several Scree, both male and female from the voices, running from the other sides of the keep to enter rooms facing the music. Madeline could hear the screaming voice, probably Simon, supported by the ooo ooo of the rest of the band. The song was ending. The light show would start with the next tune.
Jode tapped her shoulder and pointed to another staircase at the end of the hall, it rose to the next level. There were no other people coming. As they ran past to the open doorways, she could see heads crowding around the slit windows to see what was going on. As they climbed the stairs to the second floor, Madeline saw the next stairs were at the other end of the corridor. This pattern repeated four times until they stood in a small entry room that led to the open roof.
Arabela stopped and made them wait until she was sure there were no footsteps following them. The music changed and a flash of white stars rose from the forest. The sound was a rhythmic electronic beat, Madeline wondered how they had accomplished that, and then howls and shrieks started keeping time. Another flash of stars, this time green, and the lyrics started, a high voice, It’s close to midnight… Simon had a flair for soundtracks, she thought. The three stepped out of the room and looked around the corner of the building. Sayer Goddard sat on the wall watching the show, his arm around a boy who looked to be about five years old.
“See, son,” Goddard said. “See how they foolishly celebrate. We will crush them.”
“I like the music,” the boy said.
Arabela pulled them both back into the room. “It is not over.”
32
Drawing back into an empty room, they huddled in a corner out of sight of the doorway and away from the window. There seemed to be no doors on any of the rooms; privacy wasn’t possible.
“We can’t kill him and his son,” Madeline said. “I will not kill a child.”
“It would not be right,” Arabela agreed. “I would not have embarked on this if I had known about the son.”
“We cannot go back without resolving this,” Jode said. “By coming we have awakened his interest in our lands.”
“I’m sorry,” Arabela said. “I did not know. He must have kept the boy a secret from all his enemies.”
“Look,” Madeline said. “It’s no point being sorry. We have to figure out what to do. Do you think he will be open to negotiation now that you have found out about his son? He seems to care for the child.”
“It is a boy, of course he cares,” Arabela snapped. “He might agree to a peace to save the boy from an assassination. It would not occur to him that I would not kill his son given the chance.”
“What guarantee will we have that he will keep his word?” Madeline asked.
“None,” Jode said. “You know you cannot trust him.”
“What if you took the boy into your care? If you took the boy, and promised to keep him safe, would Sayer keep his word?”
>
“Yes,” Arabela smiled. “This is a good idea. I could raise the boy to be less brutal, perhaps. But, how would we get Goddard to agree?”
“He would have to think that the boy’s life is in danger. It would have to be the only option to keep the boy alive,” Jode said.
“Then we pretend to attack,” Madeline said. “When we have them cornered, we will offer this solution.”
“What does your instinct, your talent, tell you?”
Madeline closed her eyes to remove the distraction of the sound of the 1812 overture rolling through the keep. She could not feel any danger. There was no confirmation, or denial, that the plan would be successful. “Sorry, nothing.”
“We have to try,” Arabela said her quiet voice loaded with desperation. “I cannot let this child live to continue the blood feud.”
“We go back to the roof, then,” Jode said. He checked the outside passage, and beckoned them forward. When they stepped back onto the roof, the boy was no longer at his father’s side. Sayer Goddard leaned against the low wall and watched as a spray of blood-red fire burst through the trees and the sound of cannons roared from the drums.
“Stay here,” Jode whispered under the cover of the noise. “Do not come out of the shadow until necessary. Your talent will tell you if you need to come.”
Madeline drew into the shadow of the corner of the roof. She had a clear view of side where Sayer stood.
Jode strode forward, Arabela slightly behind. “Goddard,” Jode called loudly. “We have come to end the blood feud.”
“Stupid humans,” the Scree lord laughed. “Are you come to kill me?”
“If that is what will end the killing, yes,” Jode said. “Are you prepared to die tonight?”
“I am prepared to fight,” Goddard said. Reaching into the shadows at his feet, he picked up a long blade. He stepped forward and Madeline could see that his reach was much longer than Jode’s. She remembered the exhibition of skill. Reach was not always a guarantee of victory. She hoped he relied on force rather than skill. Skill was the only advantage Jode had.
“Do you fight for your Lady? Or, is she willing to fight her own fight?”
Arabela stepped forward. “Sir Jode is my champion. He will fight for me.”
“Coward,” Sayer taunted her. “If you were truly thirsty for revenge, you would want to taste my blood by your own blade.”
“We humans are not as brutal as you Scree,” Arabela said taking a step closer.
Madeline felt her skin burn with warning. “Stop,” she shouted coming forward.
It was too late. Sayer’s hand snaked out and touched Arabela. There was blue chalk on the end that left a smudge on her forehead. She crumpled, unconscious, to the ground.
Madeline kept moving forward, her skin still burning, knowing the danger was not over. She took three steps and saw a short blade swing around the corner of the building. The boy was back and aiming his sword at Jode’s hamstring.
“Look out!” Her warning was in time. Jode swung around and blocked the blade with his own. He reached over the boy’s blade and lifted the child by the back of his shirt. Sayer Goddard stopped moving, his eyes following Jode’s every move.
“Your son, I believe.”
“Put him down,” Sayer said lowering his own blade. “He is only a child.”
“Yes.” Jode nodded and looked at the boy who was trying to grab his sleeve. “But he is your child.”
“What is it that you want?”
“Release the spell on Lady Arabela to start with.”
Sayer flicked his fingers and sprinkled white chalk over Arabela’s hair. She moaned and pushed herself up from the floor. “Let the boy go. We can fight this out between us.” Sayer’s voice still held contempt. “He does not need to be hurt.”
Arabela nodded and took the boy from Jode. Madeline motioned her to step into the shadows. “Wait,” Madeline said ignoring the burning feeling on her skin, the warning of her talent. “There may be another way.”
“Who is this?” Sayer asked. “I do not know this woman.”
“It’s not important,” she answered. Then move to stand near Jode, keeping out of his way should he have to use his sword. “I have a suggestion that would mean we all walk away.”
“How can I trust you?” Sayer snarled his eyes searching the shadows. “How can you trust me?”
“If you are willing to listen, I think you will hear the answers to your questions.”
“Speak woman. I am not accustomed to waiting.”
“If both you and Arabela revoke the blood feud then it is over.”
“It is over,” Sayer said. “This is about revenge. Unless… ah now I understand. That weakling Alric left her with child.”
“Would it matter?” Madeline asked trying not to confirm or deny his suspicion. It was always better to let opponents assume things. It left them open to persuasion, or threat depending on your point of view. “You were going to attack the Summer Lands anyway. Lady Arabela is trying to avoid war.”
Sayer was still trying to see his son. “If I was to agree not to attack, how would I know she would forego her revenge?”
“She is not warlike. It is more in her nature to live in peace. Is she in the habit of breaking her word? Are humans known for their treachery?”
“True enough. I can think of ways to make her swear an oath that she could not break. How do you know I will not break my word?” This time he turned to look at Madeline leering at her. “Scree are not so weak. We are celebrated for our treachery.”
“We will take your son back to the Summer Lands. Arabela will raise him, safely, in trust of your word.”
Sayer didn’t reply. He stared into the shadows again.
There was a lull in the music. They could hear the boy struggling against Arabela’s grasp.
Sayer stepped forward. Jode drew his blade. Sayer stepped back.
Madeline’s skin felt like it should be smoking. There was still more danger here. She didn’t understand what it could be. Sayer had his sword out, but didn’t seem to be about to attack. His other hand was behind his back. He seemed to be muttering something but the music swelled again. The song was Very Superstitious. The next one would signal the start of the half hour of darkness. They needed to get away soon.
Another scuffle in the corner, Madeline turned her head to see what was happening. Arabela swore and the boy started running towards his father.
Sayer flung his arm out from behind his back, a fine spray of red chalk dust floated towards Madeline. She saw it as she turned back to him, and side stepped out of the reach of the dust.
Jode stepped forward. “No, damn you,” he shouted raising his sword. It looked to Madeline as though he was aiming to cut off the chalk-covered hand.
The boy ran between Jode and Sayer. Sayer stepped back to avoid Jode’s blade.
The boy jumped for his father and the added momentum toppled them over the wall.
The scream and thud were only barely audible over the music as the song wound to an end.
“Are you unhurt?” Arabela asked stepping back into the light, rubbing her ribs. “He kicked me so hard I think he may have broken a rib. I am sorry I should have held onto him, even so.”
“Did any of the chalk touch you?” Jode asked as he stepped carefully around the red stain on the stones. “It was a curse.”
“No, I used the defensive moves you taught me. I’m fine.” She moved towards the wall.
“Don’t look,” Jode said, holding his hand to her while he peered over the edge. “They are both dead.”
“Then it is over,” Arabela said.
“We should go.” Madeline could still feel heat in her skin. There was still danger. “Will you be able to run if your rib is broken?”
“I will make it. Do not worry.”
They ran quietly down the stairs, past rooms where people were muttering about the lack of fireworks. Out the door to the keep and across the open ground, they stumbled into the
trees and waited until Arabela caught her breath. Moving more slowly through the trees, they met up with the musicians. Blu bundled Arabela into the wagon and had one of the musicians ride her horse back to camp. No longer needed for distraction, the concert ended with a burst of light and Leonard Cohen’s Closing Time.
33
People stepped forward to take the horses as they returned to camp. “They will want to celebrate,” Simon said, as they walked away. “Should we set up for a party?”
“No,” Arabela said. “We will have a small celebration tonight, and then a large one when we arrive back at the castle. We will send a couple of riders ahead to prepare. Thank you, without your music we would not have been able to succeed.”
Simon blushed. “I think that might be an exaggeration.”
At the center of the camp, there was a platform set up; Arabela stood on it, and told everyone to get a drink and then toasted their victory. “We shall return to the castle with as much speed as we can so that we can properly celebrate the end of this threat.”
When she stepped into her room in the tent, Madeline burst into tears. “There, dear,” Alice said patting Madeline’s back. “It will be all right. You have done a hard thing, but it was the right thing. Come there’s a bath here and clean clothes to wear to bed. Have some of the food while you soak.”
The camp was stirring as she stepped out of the tent door the next morning. Her skin was still burning. She hoped it was just a side effect and would fade over time. There could be no further danger in the middle of the camp.
They met for breakfast in the space in front of the tents. It was a quick meal and jug of caf. “Will we travel with the camp from now on?” Madeline asked.
“Yes,” Arabela answered. “But we will still move faster. There is no need to stop for meal breaks every day. We can eat in the saddle. We will stop an hour or two later in the evenings and leave and hour earlier in the mornings. It will not be as pleasant a journey, but we should be back in three days not the six it took us to get here.”