The Spook's Sacrifice

by Joseph Delaney

  'Why do you think he changed his mind, Mam?'

  'John Gregory is a brave man who always puts duty above personal needs and wishes. And that is exactly what he's done on this occasion. He's seen what his higher duty is and placed it above his own beliefs. But he's been forced to sacrifice some of his principles, and for a man like him, that's very hard.'

  Despite what Mam said, I wasn't totally convinced that it was only that. The Spook had always maintained that you couldn't make alliances with servants of the dark. Something else must have changed his mind – I felt sure of it.

  CHAPTER

  8

  THE YOUNG LADIES

  The days passed and we continued south, always keeping the coast in sight. Once a storm threatened and we put into port for shelter, but mainly the weather was sunny, with a good following wind. Then, as we sailed away from the cliffs of our homeland, preparing to cross the Channel, I could hear what sounded like thunder in the distance.

  'Another storm?' I asked.

  Bill Arkwright shook his head and frowned. 'No, Master Ward, those are big guns. Eighteen-pounders if I'm not mistaken. There's a big battle taking place close to the sea. Let's hope it's going our way.'

  The invader came from an alliance of countries to the east and southeast of our island. It was strange to be so close to the battlefront yet be sailing beyond it into open sea.

  After completing our crossing of the Channel, we sailed straight into a big storm in the Bay of Biscay. Thunder cracked and boomed overhead like the cannon-shot we'd heard previously, and forked lightning rent the sky, the ship tossed hither and thither upon the furious foam-flecked sea. I wasn't the only one who feared that we would drown, but the crew took it in their stride and we sailed on into calmer waters, the air growing warmer by the day.

  Eventually, moving through a strait that Mam called the Pillars of Herakles, we entered the Mediterranean, a vast inland sea.

  'Who was Herakles?' I asked Mam. 'Was he a Greek?'

  'That he was, son – a hero and man of great strength,' she answered. 'The strongest man in the whole world. See that huge rock to the north? It's called Gibraltar, and it's one of the two pillars. Herakles picked it up and threw it there!'

  I laughed. It was preposterous! How big would he have to be to do that?

  'You can laugh, son,' Mam chided, 'but Greece is a land of many strange stories – more are true than you might believe.'

  'But not throwing the rock!'

  Mam didn't reply; she simply smiled mysteriously and turned away. But before she'd taken half a dozen paces she beckoned me, so I followed her down to her cabin. She hadn't invited me in before so I wondered what she wanted. It had to be something she needed to say to me in private.

  Mam led the way into the gloom of her cabin, lit a lantern and placed it in the middle of the table, motioning for me to sit down opposite her.

  'Now, I think this is the time to tell you a little more of what we face in Greece,' Mam said.

  'Thank you,' I replied. 'It's been troubling me that I don't know much about it.'

  'I know, son, but I'm afraid there's lots that I don't know either. I'm worried that the Ordeen might pass through the portal before we arrive. As I said, she visits every seven years, but not on exactly the same day.'

  'So we have no way of knowing for certain when she'll come?'

  'No, but close to the time there'll be unmistakable signs. First birds and animals will flee the area. Then the sky will turn yellow and whirlwinds will sweep away from the point where the portal opens. It has always been so. Three days and three hours later, we will all be dead or the Ordeen will have been destroyed.'

  'Do we really have a chance of success, Mam?' I demanded. It was terrifying. So much depended on what we were preparing to do.

  'Yes, son, we do. But it'll be a close-run thing. When the Ordeen appears on the plain south of Kalambaka, her intention will be to ravage that town, slay its inhabitants and take their blood. Those who escape her servants will be slain and devoured by the maenads. None will escape.'

  'What about the folk from the town, Mam? Why do they live there if this happens every seven years?'

  'Their homes are there, son, and they're poor. All over the world there are people who live close to active volcanoes or in areas afflicted by earthquakes or floods. They have no choice. In Kalambaka at least they know approximately when the danger will come so they can flee the area. The roads will be thronged with refugees. Of course, some leave it too late to escape; others, the old and the sick, simply cannot travel. And this time, because the power of the Ordeen has increased so much, thanks to the Fiend, even the monasteries will not be safe. The attack comes from both land and air. Flying lamia witches, the vaengir, will find the heights of Meteora no obstacle at all. The Fiend has been sending increasing numbers of them to the Ordeen's side, but at least my sisters won't be amongst them. He is their enemy too.'

  'And what happens when the portal opens?' I asked, filled with curiosity. 'Have you seen it happen?'

  'Once, son. Just once, many years ago, before I met your dad. But I'll never forget it. First a pillar of fire will extend from the ground to the dark storm-cloud above. This usually fades to reveal the Ord within. Then torrential rain will fall, cooling the stones of the citadel. It is then that we must go in. All entities passing through a portal from the dark need a little time to adjust and gather their strength,' Mam explained. 'That was true of the Fiend last summer, remember. It gave you time to flee from Pendle to the protection of my special room in the farmhouse. So we must take advantage of the same time-lag here. Before the Ordeen and her followers have their full powers, we must break into the Ord and destroy both her and them. It's our only hope.'

  As our journey progressed, the crew's indifference to their unusual passengers turned to open hostility. The captain explained that they had begun to fear and mistrust the Pendle witches. One of the sailors had gone missing on night watch. It had been in the midst of a storm and he'd probably been swept overboard, but they suspected that the witches had taken the poor man's life to satisfy their need for blood. So the voyage grew increasingly uncomfortable and we were all longing for it to be over.

  True to his word, the Spook had discontinued my lessons and hardly spoke to me. Alice, he could not bear to look at. Once, when we were talking on deck, he raised his eyes, tutted and went back down to the hold.

  So Arkwright took it upon himself to continue my training, concentrating on physical skills as he had back at the mill. But it was a whole new experience to fight with staffs on a deck that pitched and rolled with the swell.

  As we got closer to Greece and the temperature increased, the Spook began to sleep up on deck, away from the oppressive heat of the hold. And finally he began to speak to me again. It started with a nod and a half-smile, but before long he was giving me lessons once more so I now had the benefit of two spooks training me.

  'Get out your notebook, lad,' he said to me as, under a cloudless evening sky and with a light following wind, we sailed across the Straits of Otranto, approaching the Greek mainland at last.

  'Well, I mentioned fire elementals to you back in the County and said I'd tell you about them one day,' he went on. 'We don't have them back home, probably because the weather is so wet. Even in summer we rarely go more than a week without a heavy downpour! But Greece is hot and dry then, and in those conditions fire elementals can thrive. As I say, they are very dangerous and sometimes take the form of glowing orbs, some translucent, others opaque. Take careful note of what I'm saying because we're certain to meet them in Greece: they'll come through the portal with the Ordeen.'

  I dipped my nib into the pot of ink and began to write as fast as I could. This knowledge was soon going to be very important.

  'As a general rule, the opaque ones are hotter and more dangerous,' continued the Spook. 'Indoors, they often float close to the ceiling but they can also move very fast and are almost impossible to dodge. Contact with them can resu
lt in severe burns – and often in a painful death. In more extreme cases such elementals can reduce their victims to ashes almost instantly.

  'And that's not all, lad. Others, called asteri, are similar in shape to a starfish, with five fiery radiating arms. These elementals cling to walls or ceilings and drop onto the heads of unsuspecting victims. And once they make contact, you're as good as dead.

  'But it's not all bad news. Fire elementals are notoriously difficult to defend against, but a metal alloy blade with the correct percentage of silver can cause them to implode. A spook's staff is particularly useful. Failing that, water can seriously weaken a fire elemental and send it into hibernation until conditions are drier. Water is a very good refuge when under attack.'

  The Spook paused to give me time to write everything up in my notebook. When I'd finished, my curiosity finally got the better of me. Why had my master sacrificed his principles to join us on the journey to Greece? I knew he wouldn't want to talk about it but I had to ask anyway.

  'Mr Gregory, why did you finally come with us? What made you change your mind?' I asked.

  He looked at me, his face filled with anger. Then his expression became sad and resigned. 'Your mam wrote to me and told me things I'd rather not have heard. Things I didn't want to believe. After her letter arrived at Chipenden, I struggled with my conscience for a long time and almost left it too late.'

  I wanted to know more, but before I could speak there was a sudden shout from the lookout far above our heads. We stood up and gazed over the starboard bow. As we were very near the coast of Greece, I thought it meant that land had been sighted.

  But I was wrong. The crew began to scurry up the rigging, unfurling every last inch of available sail. A large ship had been spotted to the west, sailing out of the setting sun. It had black sails and was closing on us rapidly. Fast as the Celeste was, it seemed that this ship was even swifter. Our crew were agitated and worked feverishly, but still the vessel drew steadily nearer.

  The captain watched it for a while with his spyglass. 'It's a pirate ship – we've no chance of outrunning it before dark,' he said, scratching at his side-whiskers.

  'And I don't fancy our chances if it comes to a fight.

  We're heavily outgunned.'

  The pirate ship was bristling with cannon, whereas we had only four guns, two on each side. No sooner had he spoken than we heard a gun being fired. A cannonball hit the water close to our bows, sending up a big plume of spray. The pirates clearly had the armaments to sink our ship with ease.

  Bill Arkwright shook his head and smiled grimly.

  'It's not as bad as it seems, Captain. Just don't return fire. We certainly can't win any fight that involves an exchange of cannonfire, but it won't come to that. The last thing they want is to sink us. They'll want this ship as a prize. No doubt they intend to cut our throats and throw us to the fishes, but when they board us they'll get a nasty surprise.'

  He turned to me with a grim smile. 'Go down into the hold, Master Ward, and let the young ladies down there know the situation.'

  Wasting no time, I went down to tell the Pendle witches what was afoot. Grimalkin was sitting on the steps sharpening one of her throwing knives.

  'We're already preparing, child,' she told me. 'Mab scryed the threat hours ago. To be honest we're anticipating the fight with relish. We've spent too long cooped up down there and my sisters thirst for blood.'

  I saw some of the other witches below her, their eyes glinting cruelly as they licked their lips with relish at the thought of the fresh blood that was soon to be theirs. Their fingernails looked as sharp as the blades they were honing, all weapons ready to rend and pierce human flesh.

  Back on deck the Spook was standing beside Bill Arkwright, both of them readying themselves for the fight ahead. Arkwright always looked forward to cracking heads. He was actually smiling in anticipation of the impending action. I released the blade from my staff and moved forward to join them. The Spook gave me a nod and Arkwright gave me a pat on the back in encouragement.

  The captain and most of the crew were lined up between the masts, gripping cudgels, but they seemed to have little heart for a fight. We would certainly be glad of the Pendle witches' help. My mouth was dry with fear and excitement, yet I was determined to do my best; but at that moment I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. It was Mam.

  'No, son,' she said, drawing me away from the others. 'You keep well clear of this battle. We can't take the risk of you being hurt. You have more important things to do in Greece.'

  I tried to argue but Mam would not be persuaded. It was frustrating that others were free to take risks but not me. I resented being mollycoddled, but I had to obey Mam. So I stood at her side, furious that I couldn't take part in the coming battle.

  We didn't have long to wait for the attack. The pirate ship drew close and then its crew hurled grappling hooks across the gap and drew the two ships together, their port side crunching hard against our starboard. Some of the pirates paced the deck of their ship with an arrogant swagger. Armed with knives, cutlasses and big cudgels spiked with nails, they looked pitiless and fierce. Others waited in the rigging, looking down upon us like vultures, considering us nothing more than dead meat.

  But before the first of the pirates could leap across, the witches came up from the hold, led by Grimalkin. Wearing their hoods and bristling with weapons, they looked like a force to be reckoned with. Some were drooling, the saliva running from their mouths to drip from the bottom of their leather hoods as they anticipated the feast of blood ahead. Others were baying like hunting dogs, their bodies quivering with excitement. They looked fierce and deadly, none more so than Grimalkin, who with a blade in each hand led them close to the rail to form the first line of defence. And Alice stood there too, looking as resolute and determined as the rest.

  The pirate captain, a huge man brandishing a cutlass, was first to jump down onto the deck of the Celeste. He was also the first to die. Grimalkin slipped a blade out of a shoulder sheath and hurled it straight and true at his throat. He hardly had time to register surprise before the cutlass slipped from his hands and his lifeless body fell to the deck with a heavy thud.

  The rest of the pirates boarded us immediately and the battle commenced. The Spook and Arkwright were required to play little part in the proceedings; they waited at the rear, their weapons at the ready. The captain and his crew were also redundant, no doubt relieved that their services were not required.

  Little of the fight took place on our own deck. After a preliminary fierce skirmish with the witches, those pirates still standing quickly retreated to their own ship. Seeing what they faced, and having witnessed the death of their captain, no doubt they would have preferred to withdraw to a distance and blow us to pieces with cannonshot, but the grappling irons now worked against them. Before they could unhook them, and separate the two ships, the witches went on the offensive. Shrieking and howling with blood-lust, they boarded the pirate ship and the slaughter began. And Alice went with them.

  They chased the pirates up the rigging, around the deck or down into the hold. Those who stood and fought lasted mere seconds before their life blood was staining the deck. I strained my eyes to see what part Alice was playing in all this, my stomach churning in anxiety at the thought of the danger she faced. The sun had set by now and the light was fading fast, so she was lost to my sight.

  We were spared the worst of the horrors but we certainly heard the screams of those dying pirates and their unheeded calls for mercy.

  I walked forward with Mam to rejoin the others.

  'I find it hard to stand by and let such things happen, lad,' the Spook complained, giving me a hard glare. I suspected that his words were also directed at Mam, who'd chosen our witch allies, but if so, she made no reply.

  'It's a bad business, I'll give you that,' I heard Arkwright say, 'but how many poor sailors have lost their lives at the hands of those pirates? How many ships have gone to the bottom?'