A Dusk of Demons (10 page)

Ralph shook his head. “Another thing they did in those days was tell lies, making up stories which weren't true. The moon belongs to the Demons, so how could people go there unless the Demons took them? I'm surprised you could think it even for a moment.”

His tone was severe. It was only what Paddy had said, back on John's, but Ralph knew much more. I said, “I'm sorry.”

“And the old ruins are forbidden places, so what were you up to, prying in them?” I had no answer, and kept silent. “You're a good lad, Ben, with good prospects, but you've lacked a proper rearing. You've much to learn.” I nodded submissively. “Where did you get that knife I saw you playing with yesterday?”

“I bought it in the market.”

“It comes from the old time. All those gadgets; it's like a machine, almost. Better get rid of it. D'you have it with you now?”

“I left it in my room.”

“Then get shot of it as soon as you get back. Things from the old time are like gypsy goods.
They're tainted. Best have no truck with any of them.”

He twitched the rein to walk his horse on. As I followed on Hussar, I felt the bulge in my trouser pocket surreptitiously. If I'd admitted having the knife with me he would have made me throw it away there and then. Liking and respecting Ralph as I did, I didn't enjoy lying to him, but I wasn't quite prepared for that.

•  •  •

Coming away from the following week's Summoning, I found myself staying close to Mother Ryan, and noticed Paddy did as well. I'd thought the Demons might be less terrifying on second viewing, but they weren't—if anything, more so. The dinner gong would not be sounded for a while yet, and I was glad when she suggested going to her room.

She shut a window that had been left open and pulled her black shawl around her shoulders. I flopped on her bed.

“It's turned cold,” she said, but I knew it wasn't just the weather.

I said, “You could ring to have a fire lit.”

“At this hour?”

“The maid wouldn't mind.”

“But I would. It's maybe from being a servant myself, but I couldn't impose that way.”

Paddy, who had taken the second chair, said, “Antonia had a fire lit in her room last night.”

“That's for her to choose.” Mother Ryan shook her head. “It's a funny life, but I suppose we needs get used to it. It could get stranger still.”

“You mean, when Antonia and Ralph get married?” Paddy asked.

“And what would you know of that?” Mother Ryan asked sharply. “What has she said to you?”

“Nothing. But I've got eyes, haven't I?”

“Eyes indeed and ears, but you've also a tongue you must learn to curb. Nothing's happened that's proper occasion for talk. And you'll keep your mouth shut too, Ben, will ye not? What's to be will be, but we'll not look to crossing bridges till we get to them.”

I couldn't account for the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. “What's wrong with Ralph?”

“Ralph takes Ben out riding,” Paddy said sarcastically. “Ralph is Ben's best friend.”

Mother Ryan rubbed her hands. “There's nought wrong with Ralph that I know of—with any of them. But we're not their kind, and they're not ours. All this of Summonings and Demons . . . I had enough of that in the old days in Ireland. God be thanked, there was little of the sort in the Isles.”

“But there is here,” I said. “You've seen the Demons, like we have. You saw the Master's house burned down. It's no good pretending they don't exist. And they only punish the wicked—the Summoner said so.”

“And who are the wicked?” Mother Ryan asked. “Was your poor mother wicked when she was burned in her bed?”

For a moment I had nothing to say. It was not a story I wanted to call to mind. But I felt it was unfair of her to use it in criticism of the landsmen. I said, “It wasn't the Demons that set fire to the castle. You told me: It was men and women of her village.”

She sighed. “And if one knew where Demons ended and men and women began, one might be more at peace.”

Much as I loved her, there were times when she didn't make sense. Demons were Demons, people people. I was prepared to continue the argument when, after a peremptory knock, her door was opened, and Millicent came in. Although the plump one of the General's two daughters, she was, I thought, the sourer. Wasting no time on civilities, she asked Mother Ryan, “Have you seen Ralph? The Mistress wants him.”

“I saw him at the Summoning,” Mother Ryan said.

We had also seen him on the way back, talking earnestly to Antonia. I was wondering why she didn't mention that when Millicent turned to Paddy and me.

“What about you two?”

On the point of speaking, I saw Mother Ryan's warning eye behind Millicent's back. I shook my head.

Paddy said, “I
thought
I saw him going toward the stables.”

“The Mistress expects him to come to her after the Summoning.” Millicent pursed her lips. “I've
been to Antonia's room, and she's not there.” She paused, but none of us spoke. “If you see him, tell him his mother wishes to see him, at once.” Then she left us.

•  •  •

On Monday morning I was up early. Ralph was making me a kite and had promised we could try it out. The weather was still unsettled, and a brisk southeasterly promised perfect conditions. I found him in the stables where we usually met, but checking the saddle of his horse. He told me he had business in the town which had to be attended to. He seemed preoccupied, but when I showed my disappointment he ruffled my hair and smiled.

“I've made you the kite, though. Try it on your own. If you've any problems, I'll sort them out when I get back.”

I was doing as he suggested when, later in the morning, I saw Heron approaching across the carefully shaven turf of the main lawn. He was the head servant, tall and stooped, with a bony face and drooping white moustache. I guessed he was looking for one of the gardeners, but he stopped beside me.

In a creaking voice, he said, “You are required in the courtyard, young sir.”

I nodded, and concentrated on the kite. I'd had problems in getting it fully airborne, but it was now straining high against the wind. Heron repeated, “You are required in the courtyard. At once. By the General.”

I wound the kite in and followed him. General Pengelly, together with the Mistress and Rachel and Millicent, was standing by the fish pond. I had an impression that he looked strange—nervous?—but dismissed it. The Mistress's face was blank, her lips tightly drawn.

Facing them across the pond were Mother Ryan, Antonia, and Paddy. As I joined them, the General said, “Although this does not concern you, Ben, I thought you should be present. You may go, Heron.”

Paddy looked sullen, Mother Ryan wary. I could not read Antonia's expression. Addressing them, the General said, “You have been with us how long—two weeks? Sheriff Wilson sent you away from the Western Isles because you were not native to his territory. We have been considering your
position since then. It is known to be the will of the Dark One that people should cleave to the land of their birth. Since you came from Ireland, it is right you should return to that country.”

Antonia's face was pale. In a low voice, Mother Ryan asked: “How soon, sir?”

“At once. There is no point in delay.”

“And when does the next boat sail?”

“You will not be taken by boat. You are to go by road to a port in the north and sail from there. You must be ready to leave by two o'clock this afternoon.”

He sounded relieved to have got it over. Mother Ryan asked, “Shall we take our leave of Ralph first?”

While he hesitated, the Mistress spoke sharply. “That will not be possible.
Master
Ralph will be engaged in the town for the entire day.”

The two women locked gazes for a long moment, before Mother Ryan turned away. “Come, children,” she said. “We have our packing to do.”

All this had taken me by surprise. Not until this moment did I grasp that it was serious—that
Mother Ryan and the girls were actually being banished from the place in which they had hitherto seemed entirely welcome. I said, “They don't have to go to Ireland.” I caught the Mistress's eye and quickly added, “ . . . sir. I can go back to the Western Isles as Sheriff Wilson wanted, and take them with me. He said I could.”

The General looked past me to Mother Ryan. “As you have said, you have packing to do.” He turned to me. “You will remain here, Ben.”

•  •  •

When I rejoined the others, in Mother Ryan's room, she was tightening the string of her draw-bag. Her smile was warm as always, but there was unhappiness in it.

“What did they say to you?”

I was troubled, and also confused. “The General said it made no difference what Sheriff Wilson said. The will of the Dark One has to be obeyed. I said in that case I wanted to go with you, to Ireland. But he won't let me.”

“Well, I suppose that's no great surprise, since you're to be the new Master.”

Her words made me wince. They echoed those of the General in refusing my request. I had an inheritance here, he had said, and responsibilities. In answer, I'd said if that were so I would do as the Sheriff suggested and go back to the Western Isles. I was thinking it might be possible to send to Ireland for them after that. The will of the Dark One had been misinterpreted once already, and if the Sheriff wanted to keep me there, his Summoner might take a different view from the General's.

The General reluctantly agreed that a message could be sent to Sheriff Wilson, if I wished, but it would take several days to get a reply. I asked if the departure of Mother Ryan and the girls could be put off until then. The Mistress intervened before the General could respond. That was out of the question, she said. Her look registered total contempt for all males, whether Generals or Masters. The business was settled: I had better go and bid my friends good-bye.

I said to Mother Ryan, “I don't see why you have to go today. I spoke to one of the guards who's on dock duty. There's a boat to Ireland from here
next week. Even if it is the Dark One's will, what difference can a few days make? We've been here longer than that already.”

It was Paddy who answered, bitterly. “Don't you see it's not the General who's deciding? It's
her.
It might be awkward for her little boy if we were allowed to stay on.”

I was puzzled. “What little boy?”

“Ralph, you idiot. It was him being soft on Antonia that got us brought here in the first place. And that's the reason for us being sent away before he gets back.”

Mother Ryan said, “Paddy—”

“Oh, why not admit it! Antonia knows the truth. His mother was willing to overlook it as long as it wasn't serious—just another little tidbit for him. But when he went walking with Antonia after the Summoning, instead of going to her, it was a different matter. A girl from the islands couldn't possibly be suitable as a wife for her wonderful son, so she decided to put a stop to it. And we're being packed off before he gets back so he doesn't have to face any embarrassment.”

She was angry, and she was being unreasonable. I said, “But when Ralph does get back, this evening . . .”

“We'll be gone,” Paddy said wearily. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.”

“You'll not have gone far. Ralph will come for you.”

“You don't understand.”

She spoke as though she were not just a year and a bit but ten years older. She was the one who didn't understand. Antonia was silently staring out of the window. The prettiness I'd noticed had vanished; she looked plain and tired. I remembered her with the yellow flowers around her, saying she wouldn't mind if she never lived anywhere else but here. I thought of all the times she had teased me too, cruelly sometimes, and even wished them back.

Mother Ryan put her arms around me. “We've had good days together. Now you're growing up. You're going to be all right. And there has to be a time for parting.”

“It won't be for long. Ralph will bring you back.”

Her smile was weary. “Maybe. Or maybe you'll
send for us when you've your new house built on the isle. Take care, lovey.”

•  •  •

I went looking for Ralph after I saw a groom leading his horse to the stables. Eventually I discovered him in his room, an unlikely place for him to be while daylight lingered. He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

I plunged into an account of what had happened. I had no doubt that he would be indignant, and eager to put things right. But he made no move, did not even look at me, and I found myself stumbling over my words. I wound up, doggedly, “They weren't on the road till nearly four. They can't have gone much more than a dozen miles.”

I'd been hoping he would take me with him—had envisaged us riding together through the night until we reached them. I'd pictured Paddy's face when she saw us. When he did finally turn to me, though, his look was blank. He said, in a closed-up kind of voice, “There's nothing to be done. I'm sorry, Ben.”

“But there is! It was your mother's idea to send them away, not the General's. And she'll let you have whatever you want; she always does. You want to marry Antonia, don't you?”

“People can't always have what they want. It's something you'll learn.”

I couldn't believe what he was saying. “But at least you can help people you're fond of, can't you? Not simply stand by when they're treated badly.”

I realized I was being reckless, even impertinent, and thought he might be angry. He swung his legs off the bed, but only said in a dull voice, “You just don't see, Ben. You don't think I'm happy about it, do you? But there has to be order, and rules, and people must learn to obey them. During the Madness people did as they liked, and all they got from it was murder and misery.”