I took it and tore it open, unfolding the letter within and starting to read.
Dear Master Ward,
I have left the employment of the witch. In truth, I was lucky to escape with my life. I am now recruiting a force with which to oppose the new ruler of Greeba Keep, and we are on the road to Peel. We will meet you at the mill. To help defeat our enemy, I need the expertise of you and your master.
Yours,
Daniel Stanton
“Well, lad, don’t keep us waiting,” said the Spook. “Read it aloud!”
I did as my master asked. When I’d finished, he scratched at his beard and glared at me. “Do you trust this Daniel Stanton?”
I nodded. “He’s a soldier and probably hasn’t lived a totally blameless life, but that’s true of all of us. Yes, I do trust him.”
“Right, then we’ll wait and see what he has to say.”
“I wonder how he knew I’d be here at the mill?” I asked.
“Well, it’s not too difficult to work out, lad,” replied the Spook. “He knows that we escaped with Adriana and that she’d be desperate to be reunited with her mother.”
“Well, if he knows where we are, it’s pretty certain that Lizzie will, too.”
“Aye, lad, she’ll know for sure. But she’s probably too busy with her newfound power to bother about us for a while. She’s confident she can deal with us easily when the time comes. Right now she’ll be devoting all her energies to seizing control of this island. She’ll come for us eventually, you mark my words.”
Just over an hour later, Stanton arrived with his men. There were perhaps no more than fifty in all, but they were armed with pikes and clubs and looked formidable.
Adriana, the Spook, Alice, and I sat around the kitchen table with him while he explained the situation.
“The witch has got more than three hundred men under arms, while I’ve barely a sixth of that so far. More will join me—and they’re prepared to fight, make no mistake. Two days ago Lizzie led raiding parties against some of the local landowners and farmers, those who’d refused outright to pledge their support. Some families—men, women, and children—were murdered in cold blood. But I was already away by then.
“Lizzie’s sent me to St. John’s with some of the men you see here now. Our task is to seize the area and prepare for the meeting of the Tynwald in a few days’ time. The witch wants to dissolve the parliament and have power handed over to her. She’s planning to go there herself once I have it under control.
“But I talked to some of the lads and a few Tynwald members too, and we’ve decided to try and tackle her. We’re not standing for it. We’ve never had to answer to anyone before and we never will.
“That’s where you come in,” he went on, looking at the Spook and me. “I’ve been close to the witch, and she terrified the life out of me. All the strength seemed to drain out of my body. She kills people without even touching them—how do we deal with that?”
“It’s something I’m still pondering,” said the Spook. “The power she wields—killing from a distance with such ease—is more potent than anything I’ve encountered before in a single witch. But now we know its source, we’ll find a way to stop it eventually, don’t you worry.” My master sounded more determined than he had for some time.
“The only problem is that Lizzie has supporters, lots of well-armed yeomen bought with bribes of wealth and power, and it won’t be so easy to get her on her own again,” Stanton told us.
“You said that you were lucky to escape with your life. What happened?” I asked him.
“That night when the witch killed your father”—he nodded toward Adriana—“I’d already decided to make an attempt on her life. But I was as helpless and terrified as the rest of that gathering, and my blood just turned to water. And she sensed something. It was almost as if she could read my mind.
“Later she questioned me. Wanted to know how loyal I was. She said she was starting to have doubts about me and ordered me to tell her the truth. I could feel her right inside my head, twisting and prodding. I began to shake and sweat, and it took all my willpower not to admit that I’d planned to kill her. It was close—very close.”
“Well, it seems to me that a lot will depend on just how much support you can muster,” said the Spook. “With enough men, you could attack when the Tynwald meets. In the confusion we might be able to put an end to her. If Lizzie was distracted, she could still be bound with a silver chain.”
“Or I could put my sword through her heart,” Stanton said. “I’m going to send runners to the nearest towns and villages to drum up support. Anyone who can carry a weapon and wants to fight for the freedom of our land will join us.”
Although word had already been spread to the surrounding villages, by noon only about a dozen new men had rallied to Stanton’s cause. Most were farm laborers who had brought nothing better than clubs—though three boasted pikes and one had brought a spear. These latter had once been yeomen, but they were no longer young and their weapons were rusty. Despite that, Stanton had greeted each man warmly and accepted his pledge of loyalty.
And then another arrival brought a delighted smile to Adriana’s face: a young man carrying a stout stick. It was Simon Sulby.
“Any news of Captain Baines?” the Spook asked him when Simon finally extracted himself from Adriana’s embrace.
“I’m afraid he was arrested at St. John’s,” Simon replied. “He wasn’t supposed to leave Douglas, so they took him back to his ship under guard. And there he’ll stay until they need him to return those refugees to the County.”
Early evening brought a fresh band of about twenty armed yeomen, which swelled our supporters to over eighty—along with several women who had followed their menfolk. They in turn had brought a number of children, including at least three babes in arms.
The sun sank rapidly, as if time itself was moving faster and faster. Soon a dozen fires were lit by the mill, fires that grew brighter as the dusk thickened into night. One of the yeomen hung a flag, with its emblem of three legs, from the roof of the mill. It fluttered in the breeze, and the makeshift camp echoed with laughter, the talk filled with optimism. Someone produced a fiddle, and the women kicked off their shoes and the grass was suddenly awhirl with dancers, Simon and Adriana quickly joining in. Some of the locals arrived and watched from a distance. They were clearly afraid of getting involved.
Stanton now prepared to march his men east toward St. John’s under cover of darkness. He planned to hide them in the forest at the foot of Slieau Whallian and attack at noon, when the parliament assembled. Scouts had already reported that the route was clear, so we would take the main road for the majority of the way.
The Spook, Alice, Stanton, and I followed behind the yeomanry, but the women and children were staying at the mill. Adriana reluctantly remained to care for her mother. After the doctor’s medicine had failed to bring about any improvement, Alice had treated her with herbs and potions, but to little effect.
The Spook handed me his bag to carry. “The odds are certainly stacked against us,” he said to Stanton, shaking his head. “A witch like Lizzie can sniff out approaching danger. More than likely she’ll know that we’re coming and use dread, the spell that terrifies her enemies. If she does that, brave as your men are, they’ll take to their heels.”
But Stanton refused to be daunted by the Spook’s words. “I’ve seen what she’s capable of, but we have to try. If we don’t make a fight of it, she’s won,” he told us.
Some hours before dawn, we were hidden deep in the forest but within easy range of St. John’s. Stanton posted guards, and the rest of us grabbed the chance to rest.
Dawn brought drizzle and gray skies, but we couldn’t risk lighting fires so had to make do with a cold breakfast. For the Spook and me that meant cheese, and he grumbled as he ate a small portion. He liked to fast before facing the dark but always kept up his physical strength with a little cheese.
“This isn’t a pat
ch on our County cheese, lad,” he commented. “I prefer it yellow and very crumbly!”
I had no appetite and ate little. I was nervous, and my stomach was in knots. I’d a very bad feeling about what we were about to attempt. Lizzie’s newfound powers were so strong, and she had too many men. We had no hope of getting near her. If we weren’t killed in the attack, we’d be taken prisoner again. If that happened, I dreaded to think what Lizzie would have in store for us all—especially the Spook.
CHAPTER XXII
The Battle at Tynwald Hill
DANIEL Stanton was a capable commander, and it was clear that his men trusted him and obeyed his orders without question. The first stage of the attack went well.
We advanced through the trees in a thin arc toward St. John’s, the yeomen spread out to deal with enemy patrols. They encountered three. Two surrendered without a fight; the third put up only token resistance. If this had been a straightforward military engagement, the element of surprise would have been with us. But Lizzie was different.
Back in the early days of my apprenticeship to the Spook, Lizzie had moved into the Chipenden area and was staying in a cottage only a few miles from the village. She’d snatched a child to take its bones. I managed to rescue it, and enraged, the local men set off with clubs and sticks to get her. Using long-sniffing, she’d sensed the danger and fled. The mob had then burned her cottage to the ground.
But this time Lizzie was the one in the position of power. She’d sense the threat we posed, then use her superior forces to swat us as easily as you would a fly. To counter this we planned a lightning raid that would strike straight at the witch herself, taking her unawares.
Under Stanton’s orders, the yeomen re-formed, the thin crescent becoming a compact wedge, to drive through any resistance and make directly for the witch. As we approached St. John’s, the Spook, Alice, Simon, and I were to the rear of the yeomen.
My master turned to me and Alice. “Use these lads as cover for just as long as you can, then go straight for her!”
I nodded, and we released the retractable blades in our staffs. Alice didn’t usually carry a weapon, but Simon had given her a knife. She wore it at her belt. I wondered if she’d be able to use it against her own mother. Somehow, for all her harsh words about Lizzie, I doubted it.
“Stay close to me!” I told her, concerned that the battle might separate us and that she’d lose the protection of the blood jar.
My mouth was dry with fear and excitement. We were near the edge of the trees; I could see buildings and a large green straight ahead. A big gathering of people stood there, some holding pikes and spears. Our yeomen readied their weapons.
“Now!” cried Stanton, and led the charge. We broke into a run, still holding our tight wedge formation. I couldn’t see much through the press of men, but in the distance I spotted the four-tiered grassy mound known as Tynwald Hill, where the parliament was already gathered. Lizzie might be addressing them right now; she had to be somewhere close by.
Then I heard shouts and cries of pain as our yeomen made contact with the enemy. Our forward movement was starting to slow as the resistance hardened.
Whether we would have reached the center of the green or not I’ll never know, because at that moment, just as we’d expected, Lizzie used the spell called dread. I felt a sudden overwhelming fear; the strong need to turn and run from some terrible unseen threat moving toward us. I resisted the urge, knowing that Alice and my master would be doing the same. But our yeomen were powerless in the face of such a spell, and they broke formation immediately, scattering to every point of the compass—as did Simon Sulby. How could he do otherwise? He’d never before been subjected to such a feeling of terror.
But it wasn’t all bad. Such a spell isn’t selective, and it affected Lizzie’s own troops as well as our own. Had she not realized that would happen? The spell had surely failed to gain her any advantage at all, I thought. Perhaps the power had gone to her head.
There were yeomen running in all directions across the green, along with members of Parliament and other dignitaries, their gowns of office flapping around their ankles. But where was Lizzie?
“There she is!” cried the Spook, pointing with his staff.
She was standing near the hill, staring at us malevolently. For a moment her eyes locked with mine, and a new tremor of fear and anticipation ran through my body. I faced something more dangerous than dread, which I had already brushed aside. Lizzie had the power to kill us from a distance, and I was the most likely candidate. She wouldn’t slay the Spook outright; she owed him a long, lingering, painful death. Alice was her daughter, and I wasn’t sure what she’d do with her. But I was just a thorn in her side, the one responsible for the destruction of Mother Malkin, Lizzie’s grandmother.
We were still running toward her, weaving our way through the thinning ranks of yeomen, when suddenly the sky grew dark. In an instant the sun vanished as angry clouds raced in from the west and the trees began to shake and moan. Torrential rain drove right into our faces, making it difficult to see. This was more powerful dark magic being conjured by Lizzie.
I bowed my head and wiped the water out of my eyes, my left hand gripping my staff. I was near her now, and when I raised my head, I saw her face twist into a cunning, lopsided smile, which widened into an evil grin of pure triumph. Suddenly I realized that this was what she had intended all along. She didn’t care that her own forces had been scattered by her spell. All she wanted was to face the Spook, Alice, and me and take her revenge. She truly believed that she was a match for the three of us together.
I was ahead of the Spook, ahead of Alice; another dozen paces would bring me within striking distance. I raised my staff, holding it like a spear. Lizzie was now gripping two long blades and getting ready to use them on the first to come within range.
I was almost upon her when someone surged past me, sword held aloft.
“She’s mine!” cried Daniel Stanton. Somehow his courage had managed to counter the witch’s spell.
But as he reached her, thrusting the sword toward her heart, the witch knocked it aside with the blade in her left hand; using her other weapon, she cracked the handle down with great force on the back of his head. Stanton staggered and fell, rolling over and over, the sword flying out of his hand.
Why hadn’t Lizzie used the blade? I wondered. Immediately my question was answered, for she spoke right inside my head: There’ll be a slow painful death for him—for you and your master too!
In an instant I was upon her. I stabbed down at the witch with my staff, but at the last moment I slipped on the wet grass and she struck me a glancing blow with the handle of her dagger. A light flashed inside my head, and I don’t remember hitting the ground.
I must have lost consciousness briefly, because the next thing I knew, the Spook was slowly approaching Lizzie, his staff held diagonally across his body. Alice was standing to one side, her face fearful, watching the encounter between the witch and my master. Lizzie was grinning again, almost gloating. I looked at the Spook, and I could see his fear. No, it was more than that. His whole face was twitching, and his eyes told me that he was already defeated. No doubt Lizzie was speaking inside his head, telling him that he had no chance against her, telling him what she would do to him after taking him prisoner.
The sight of my master in that situation horrified and dismayed me. He had always been such a tower of strength. Even when temporarily defeated by the dark, he had always been brave and optimistic. All that was gone now—I turned away, unable to bear the sight of him brought so low.
Suddenly the Spook lowered his staff and fell to his knees at Lizzie’s feet. She smiled and raised her dagger high, about to bring the handle down on his head and knock him unconscious. I sat up and staggered to my feet, but a wave of dizziness and nausea immediately washed over me. I wanted to intervene but knew I couldn’t reach my master in time.
But there was an intervention. Alice suddenly shouted out—it was a w
ord in the Old Tongue. I didn’t know what it meant but guessed it was some sort of spell. Something seemed to dart between Alice and Lizzie; something small and dark. Alice didn’t throw it—whatever it was came straight out of her open mouth.
The effect on the bone witch was immediate. Lizzie staggered backward, and the dagger fell from her grasp. And then Alice attacked, holding her dagger aloft—though she didn’t stab Lizzie. She used her other hand to draw her nails right down the witch’s face. Lizzie screamed and fell back.
This was my chance, and I stepped forward, raising my staff to drive my blade into her heart. But though I tried with all my strength, I could not hurt her as Alice had done. I was no match for her power. The staff froze in my hands.
“Quick, Tom!” Alice cried, dragging the Spook to his feet. I picked up his staff, took his other arm, and we started to pull him away. I glanced back and saw Lizzie still clutching her face. Whatever Alice had done, I knew its effects wouldn’t last long.
Somehow we got clear, losing ourselves in the throng of terrified people. As we headed back through the trees, we saw people still staggering about, both yeomen and members of the Tynwald, their faces showing bemusement and terror. Of Simon Sulby there was no sign.
As we made our way into the forest, the Spook shrugged us off almost angrily. “I can walk! I don’t need dragging!” he snapped, and immediately started off ahead of us. At first he seemed unsteady on his feet, but then he pressed on with more vigor. Alice and I dropped back a little so we could talk.
“He’s not angry with us, he’s angry with himself,” I told her.
“Old Gregory’s pride’s hurt,” Alice said. “Lizzie bested him again—no mistake about that.”
“But you bested Lizzie. How did you manage that when she’s so strong?”
“It was something that my aunt Agnes once taught me. It’s a spell some witches call talon. You bite off a small piece of the nail of your forefinger and spit it at your enemy. Then you scratch her face and stun her. Took Lizzie by surprise, it did. She didn’t know I could do that. Only gave us a few moments, though. I’ll never be able to repeat that spell. She’ll be ready for me next time.”
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