Spook's: The Dark Army

by Joseph Delaney

  ‘Grimalkin said that Talkus and Golgoth were part of the dark army that seeks to destroy us. So is Pan really part of our army? Does he really support humans?’

  ‘Pan wants a green world teeming with life, so he’ll fight with us – he’ll help to hold the ice back. That’s how it started, Tom. That’s how I ended up with Lukrasta.’

  ‘What do you mean, Alice? What did that have to do with Pan?’

  ‘When I went into the dark to get the Dolorous Blade, Pan was angry at my presumption at entering his domain without permission. So I had to pay a price or he wouldn’t let me leave. He made me promise that I would help him if he asked. Didn’t have any choice, did I? Otherwise I’d have been trapped in the dark for ever. So I agreed.

  ‘Wasn’t long before he told me what I had to do – link my powers with those of Lukrasta. I had to leave you and fight the Kobalos with the mage. You can’t break your word to one of the Old Gods; it was useless to resist. Then, when I tried the Doomdryte ritual, Lukrasta arrived, and that was the beginning of our alliance.’

  The Doomdryte ritual was a reading from a grimoire of that name. If you made one mistake, mispronounced a word or hesitated, you could be destroyed. Alice had risked that to gain power to fight the Fiend. But it was Lukrasta’s book. It was believed that it had been dictated to him word by word by the Fiend. So as soon as Alice began the ritual he’d appeared before her.

  ‘You make it sound like you had no choice, Alice. Are you sure you aren’t just twisting the truth? Grimalkin was there: she said that as soon as you saw the mage you changed and wanted to be with him.’

  Grimalkin’s cool assessment of what had taken place between Alice and Lukrasta had hurt me more than I could bear.

  ‘I just accepted the inevitable, Tom. Belonging to him enabled me to get close to him. It gave me a chance to help you. It gave me a chance to save you.’

  I remembered seeing Alice on the balcony of Lukrasta’s tower in Cymru. The image of them kissing came into my mind so clearly and strongly that for a moment I was back there in the past. Anger and jealousy surged through me. I took a deep breath, trying to stifle those emotions.

  ‘But did you have to kiss him, Alice? Couldn’t you just have worked with him? Did you have to sleep in his bed?’

  ‘It was the only way. He expected it. He’s used to people doing his will,’ Alice continued. ‘I was able to save your life more than once, Tom. Lukrasta wanted to restore the Fiend to power in order to oppose the Kobalos. He’d have done anything, he would, to achieve that. He would have squashed you like an ant. But you listen to someone who kisses you and holds you close, Tom. You listen to someone who sleeps in your bed. Don’t you see that? That’s why I did it.

  ‘He wanted to come with me to the Spook’s garden to steal the Fiend’s head. Nobody there would have survived that: not you, not John Gregory – not even Grimalkin. But because I was close to him I was able to change his mind, Tom. I persuaded him to let me go alone. That way nobody got hurt too much . . . apart from the boggart – it fought so hard, I was forced to hurt it more than I wanted.’

  ‘That note you left me in the tower – you said that you never wanted to see me again. You said that you’d gone to the dark. Was that true as well?’ I said bitterly.

  ‘The mark on my thigh is now a full dark moon. Ain’t no going back from that, is there? Like I said, now I belong to the dark.’

  When Alice was much younger, the mark had appeared as a crescent. She had fought against going to the dark, but from time to time she’d been forced to use dark magic to save both of us. And each time she’d done it, the crescent had grown. The full moon marked her new status – she did indeed belong to the dark.

  ‘But it could be a lot worse,’ Alice said.

  I laughed out loud – it sounded ugly and forced. ‘What on earth could be worse than being a malevolent witch?’ I demanded.

  ‘I belong to the best bit of the dark. I belong to Pan. I never wanted to be a bone witch or a blood witch, or a witch that has a creepy familiar like a toad or a spider, so it’s worked out fine – I’ve ended up being something different; something that no Pendle witch has ever been. I’m an earth-witch who serves Pan. My magic comes from the ground; it comes from the elements; it comes from the Earth itself. The truth is, that’s what I was always meant to be.’

  I stared at her in silence. My heart felt as cold as stone, but part of me was fascinated by what she’d just said. As far as I knew, we spooks knew nothing of earth witches. My master had never mentioned them, and there had been no reference to them in his library. It was a completely new category of witch.

  Anger flared within me again and drove away my curiosity. I asked her a question: ‘If Lukrasta were still alive, would you be with him now?’

  ‘Open your ears, Tom! If you’d listened to what I said, you’d know the answer to that. Of course I’d still be with him – I’d be doing the will of Pan. But now that he’s dead the bond between me and Lukrasta is over, ain’t it?’

  ‘Do you miss him, Alice?’

  She stared at me for a long time before replying. ‘You can’t be close to someone and not miss ’em when they’re gone. He was kind to me. He wasn’t all bad. None of us are. If I didn’t miss him I wouldn’t be human, would I? I feel sorry for him, I do. They did terrible things to him before they killed him, Tom. They stitched his lips together so that he couldn’t chant spells. They chopped off his hands so that he couldn’t make magical signs. He was in agony. But I couldn’t help him.’

  ‘You did terrible things to me too, Alice. You joined your power with Lukrasta’s to overcome the Starblade, didn’t you? You forced me into a mistake that caused my death. That’s true, isn’t it?’

  Alice hung her head, unable to meet my eyes. ‘It’s true,’ she said softly. ‘I was shocked when Lukrasta told me what we had to do – I argued that we needed to find another way. But there wasn’t one. So, even though I hated hurting you, I had to go along with it. But we did it for a purpose: so that you could come back from the dead and give these people hope; so that we all might have a chance of survival. Despite the pain you suffered, it was worth it. Ain’t nothing different to what your own mam would have done! Think about it, Tom. She would have sacrificed me to destroy the Fiend. She would have done it for the higher good. Ain’t that true?’

  Then it was my turn to bow my head.

  Yes, it was true. Mam had created a magical ritual to destroy the Fiend; my part in it was to slay Alice with my own hands. But this didn’t make me feel any better.

  ‘What was the winged creature that appeared to the magowie?’ I asked. ‘The one that seemed to bring me back to life. They called it an angelus. Was it some sort of angel?’

  ‘No, Tom, it was a tulpa. It’s the name for a magical thought-form. You create such a creature using your imagination. At first it just lives inside your head, but in time you can project it outside yourself so it has substance in the real world. Lukrasta taught me how to do it. Look, Tom, we can talk this through later when this is all over. Now I need to find Grimalkin and help her salvage what we can of this army.’

  As we left the kulad together, I saw the guards’ eyes widen in astonishment at the sight of Alice. We walked in silence towards the encampment beyond the trees until we reached the tent I’d shared with Grimalkin and Jenny.

  Alice’s words were spinning inside my head. She’d given me an explanation for her behaviour, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

  On the horizon, the clouds were pink with the approach of dawn but the ground was still in shadow. A lantern flickered inside the tent. I opened the flap and stepped inside; Alice followed.

  Jenny was sitting cross-legged on her blanket, making entries in her notebook. She looked up and her eyes widened at the sight of Alice.

  ‘Jenny, this is Alice,’ I said, nodding towards her.

  Alice smiled but Jenny just stared.

  Grimalkin was on her knees sharpening one of her short-bladed thr
owing knives on a whetstone. When she lifted her eyes, she smiled warmly at Alice, showing no surprise at all.

  ‘I hoped you would come and join your strength with ours,’ she told Alice, rising to her feet and sheathing the blade. ‘This changes everything.’

  JENNY CALDER

  I’M SICK TO death of this bleak northern country. How I hate the endless tall conifer trees and long for the sight of a sycamore or an oak. The cold has got into my bones and I never feel warm. I’m terrified too: a huge army stands between us and the river. How can we possibly hope to fight our way through them? I fear that I may never see the County again.

  As far as I can tell, Tom hasn’t reprimanded Grimalkin for abducting me. He’s just accepted it. We’ve only spoken briefly when he asked how I was feeling and I haven’t had a chance to speak to him alone yet, but I hope he hasn’t changed his mind about going back to the County . . . if we survive tomorrow.

  Grimalkin doesn’t talk about her long-term plans, but she is always optimistic; even now she’s been busy working out how to defeat the Kobalos. Last night she left her notebook open and I had a look – I couldn’t help myself.

  She intends to teach the infantry new manoeuvres; tactics she has learned on her travels through foreign lands. Their marching pace will increase; when attacked, they will quickly assume defensive positions – sometimes in a square formation, sometimes in triangles or star shapes. Sometimes a thousand men will form five squares and, using shield-walls, long spears and bows, stand firm, driving off enemy cavalry; then they will advance rapidly, only to form a triangle when attacked again.

  It sounds very complicated, but the witch assassin clearly believes that it is something that can be accomplished.

  She also plans to employ scores of blacksmiths, using moulds set in sandpits to craft huge armaments. At first I thought she was just intending to forge more of the large eighteen-pounder guns, but her sketches tell a very strange story. The long barrels of the weapons she had designed are twisted, and rather than cannonballs or roundshot, their projectiles consist of pieces of metal connected by chains. Some of these are round like small cannonballs, but others are helical, triangular or thin hollow cylinders.

  She’s also sketched small carriages which she calls chariots. Some have long sharp blades attached to the rims which spin with the wheels. Others have runners for ice and snow. From these huge blades curve upwards like wings; they are the wings of the angel of death; anyone or anything that the chariots pass is cut into pieces.

  The further I read, the more fantastical Grimalkin’s ideas became. She intends to manufacture musical wind instruments which she calls joshuas. They are very long; each needs to be supported by a dozen men. I don’t know how such music might motivate an army. Far better are the drums and bugles used by the County. The mind of a witch is mysterious indeed, I thought. Who could possibly fathom it?

  But Grimalkin’s notes have convinced me of one thing: she herself has no intention of returning to the County. She will stay here and fight right through the winter. I only hope that she doesn’t change Tom’s mind and persuade him to stay as well.

  Moments ago something else happened that made me feel very uneasy. Tom came into the tent with the witch girl, Alice. How she got here I don’t know, but I wish she’d stayed away. She gave me a quick glance that was far from friendly, and then the two of them began a long conversation with Grimalkin. I pretended to be reading through my notebook, but I was paying close attention to all that passed between them.

  Alice told Grimalkin that the human mage called Lukrasta was dead. I wonder what that will mean for the future . . . Will Tom now become close to Alice again? If so, things don’t look good for me. She doesn’t like me one bit – she’ll want Tom all to herself. There’ll be no place for me at Chipenden. I’m sure she’ll persuade him to end my apprenticeship and send me away.

  I wish I could get inside her head and assess her true feelings, but she is a powerful witch like Grimalkin and I can’t.

  It is strange that a spook should be in alliance with two witches. Surely it goes against everything a spook stands for.

  But what does it matter? Few, if any of us, will survive what the dawn brings.

  TOM WARD

  IF THE COMING of Alice, with her powerful magic, brought me new hope, the dawn light brought renewed fear.

  For the first time, in the far distance, I could see the vast Kobalos army that faced us. The flags of each of the principalities fluttered at the head of our small force, but the Kobalos army boasted flags and banners almost beyond counting. The predominant reds and blacks stood out against the white frosted plain and grey, snow-laden sky.

  They were here to slay us all. Lenklewth had escaped and they would all now know what had been done to the Kobalos from the kulad. They’d want revenge.

  It was not just the size of the army which daunted us. Towering above the cavalry and infantry were creatures with many legs that resembled gigantic millipedes. They blew jets of hot breath from the vents on their shoulders, and above their heads billows of dark steam pulsed in the freshening wind like low clouds threatening a storm.

  Grimalkin stared at the enemy lines for a long time. Then she turned back to face me, her expression grim. ‘See those enormous creatures in the distance – they are the varteki grown to their full size.’

  ‘Ain’t no doubt about it,’ Alice confirmed, ‘and the varteki are deadly in battle. Lukrasta thought that, next to their gods, they were the greatest threat posed by the Kobalos.’

  ‘We have our cannon,’ I said, gesturing towards the three huge weapons. They were arranged in a line pointing south; already the gunners were making them ready to fire. ‘If those men have the same skill and ability as County gunners, they could do a lot of damage!’

  ‘Even the varteki will be vulnerable to eighteen-pounders!’ Grimalkin agreed.

  ‘But you can’t kill ’em all,’ Alice pointed out. ‘Some will survive, and they’ll cause havoc. They’ll burrow through the earth and attack from beneath, won’t they?’

  ‘Some will. We must kill as many as we can, and then move quickly. We must fight our way clear and save as much of this army as we can.’

  Grimalkin and Alice exchanged glances. Then, without another word, they headed off together, deep in conversation, for almost an hour. I didn’t like being excluded. When we’d fought the dark in the past, our discussions had been open. There’d been none of this skulking around out of earshot. There was obviously something they didn’t wish me to hear. What secrets had they shared?

  The presence of Alice unsettled me. I was grateful that she’d saved my life but still jealous of the time she’d spent with Lukrasta. Physically I felt much stronger but my mind was in turmoil. I seemed to have lost a lot of my courage.

  I looked across at Jenny. She was standing by her horse, patting its neck. She looked pale and scared, so I went across to reassure her.

  ‘Don’t worry, Jenny,’ I told her. ‘Another hour and we’ll be safely through the enemy lines and heading towards the river and safety. The prince selected that horse for you. It’s good, reliable, and won’t be panicked. All you have to do is stay in the saddle. It’ll be fine, I promise you.’

  Jenny nodded and forced a smile onto her face. ‘I wish I was as brave and confident as Alice. She’s not one bit afraid of Grimalkin. I can see why she was once your closest friend. Have you become friends again now?’

  ‘Not really,’ I replied, ‘but it’s a good thing that Alice has joined us. She could make a difference.’

  ‘Using her magic, you mean?’

  ‘Yes. The Kobalos have powerful mages; Alice will help to counter their power.’

  Jenny didn’t reply.

  The enemy had been advancing steadily for almost an hour, but now they had come to a halt and waited less than a mile away. Some were on horseback, the majority on foot, dwarfed by the monstrous creatures that served them. As the varteki exhaled, their hot breath continued to form clo
uds in the cold air above them.

  A silence had fallen, broken only by the occasional whinny of a horse or a soldier clearing his throat. Our army was ready, the blue uniforms of the Polyznians forming the vanguard.

  Were our enemies preparing to advance? I wondered. After consulting with the prince, Grimalkin had already decided to take the initiative. She had explained her plan of attack at length; it would begin with the firing of our cannon.

  From a distance we watched the gunners go about their business. They had the calm, methodical efficiency of the County gunners; it seemed so long ago that I’d watched them attempting to breach the walls of Malkin Tower.

  I’d been told that our guns were eighteen-pounders, similar to those used back home. But although the bore was the same, the barrels were much longer and, rather than being smooth, were embossed with grimacing faces and skulls. The barrels were now being elevated by means of levers and ratchets. The gun carriages had already been positioned so that the weapons were pointing towards the largest group of varteki.

  Despite the cold, the gunners were working in their shirt sleeves. I’d noticed that County gunners did the same. Probably it was to avoid their jackets getting soiled. The military were very strict on the requirement for a smart appearance for soldiers of all ranks. Only the sergeant still wore the dark blue jacket of the Polyznia military as he supervised the aiming of the guns without getting his hands dirty. Despite the fact that the enemy might charge towards us at any second, they appeared to be in no rush. They worked steadily and carefully. The important thing was to get it right.

  The cannonballs had been arranged into long rows between the guns. I remembered that County gunners usually stacked theirs in neat pyramids. But I acknowledged that everything seemed well organized here. I could not fault it. I noted the large tubs of water to cool the barrels; they were prone to overheating and then exploding, which could send shrapnel in every direction. The canvas bags of gunpowder were kept well away from the water.