A New Darkness (21 page)

What could have entered the garden?
I wondered. Normally I’d have been confident that Kratch could deal with it. But with all that was going on at the moment, we could well be facing the Kobalos. After my encounter with the varteki and the haizda mage, nothing was certain.

Jenny was already waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. She had her staff in her hand and was ready to fight, having already released the blade at its tip.

“Stay just inside the back door!” I told her. “If anything approaches the house, shout loud enough to awake the dead!”

“I want to go with you!” she insisted, grabbing my arm.

“Do as you’re told!” I snapped, reaching for my staff. “You’d be in danger from the boggart.”

I buckled on the scabbard and sheathed the Starblade before racing across the lawn and into the trees of the western garden. There was some truth in what I’d just told Jenny. The boggart had been instructed not to harm her, but it would now be filled with bloodlust; in the heat of the moment, she could well be at risk. But my main reason for leaving her behind was to keep her at a safe distance from this unknown intruder.

Suddenly I heard other screams. These did not come from the thirsty throat of the boggart; they were cries of agony, probably the dying shrieks of the creature it had attacked. I began to sense the position of the intruder in my mind, though I didn’t really need that gift—the cries drew me to the spot.

All at once there was silence, and I slowed down, approaching more cautiously. In the moonlight, a scene of carnage greeted me, and I turned and retched. I stood there for a moment, taking a few deep breaths and swallowing to bring my stomach under control.

The grass was slick with blood. There was a lot of it—too much, I realized, for just one intruder. Then I saw the first of the heads. It had been impaled on a sapling, and its staring eyes were on a level with my own.

It was a Kobalos mage—there was no doubt about it. I studied the elongated jaw, which hung open, showing sharp teeth. Unlike the mage I’d fought in the tree, the face of this creature was not shaven, and it looked even more bestial. Its long hair was pulled into a single pigtail behind its head.

All at once I heard the lapping of a rasping tongue. Kratch wasn’t about to let any blood go to waste. After a while, the sound stopped and a purring began; moments later, something furry and cold rubbed against my left leg. It was the boggart in its cat form, and immediately it spoke inside my head.

They were tasty but strange,
it hissed.
It was blood of a flavor I’ve never sampled before. I could grow to like it. I want more.

“How many were there, Kratch?” I demanded.

There were three. Will more come this way?

“They might. They are Kobalos mages, and they are my enemies. Soon I must journey across the sea to learn more about them. While I am away, the Spook called Judd Brinscall will come here to work. Allow him entry to the garden and house, and touch not a hair of his head. Is it agreed?”

Yes, it is agreed. If you need me while you are away, just call my name and I will stand by your side. We will hunt together.

“If danger threatens, I’ll do so, but I will be far away across the sea. Would it be possible for you to travel such a distance?”

It would be difficult but not impossible,
Kratch replied.
Some lines extend across the beds of deep seas. They were there before the land sank and was flooded.

The boggart was referring to ley lines, which it used to travel rapidly from place to place. It rubbed against my leg again, and then the purring gradually faded away.

I went back to the house, deciding to leave the gruesome work of collecting up the bloody remains until the morning.

Once the sun was up the following day, I gave Jenny the task of digging a burial pit while I collected what remained of the three Kobalos.

“You get all the fun and I get all the digging!” Jenny complained as I returned to her side.

“Fun, you call it? Collecting fragments of flesh and bone is hardly fun, is it?”

“Don’t be daft—I didn’t mean that. I mean last night. I wanted to go with you; I wanted to share the danger.”

I felt annoyed. I couldn’t imagine any situation in which I’d have called my own master daft. But I took a deep breath and spoke to her calmly.

“If your apprenticeship turns out to be even half as eventful as mine, you’ll have had your fill of danger long before the first year is done and dusted,” I told her. “In this job, you don’t go running toward danger—it comes searching for you!”

Jenny fell silent at that, but she didn’t look happy in her work.

I had already used a mirror to tell Grimalkin what had happened. She arrived as I was adding the final pieces to the bloody pile of remains.

In addition to the body parts, there were pieces of armor, three sabers, and a number of long blades. I had laid these out in a row on the grass.

“They were assassins.” Grimalkin held up one of the heads and inspected it closely. “The single pigtail denotes that. The most powerful brotherhood of Kobalos assassins is called the Shaiksa—they have three pigtails—but they would no doubt have suffered the same fate at the hands of your boggart. Of course, the Shaiksa have great skill with weapons. You would not wish to meet three of them away from the protection of the boggart.”

“Do you think they were sent to kill me?” I asked.

“Not necessarily. I suspect they were sent to reinforce the haizda mage for some other common purpose. No doubt they found its grave and noted that its lair had been entered and searched. It would have been an easy matter to track you back to this house. I would like two of those sabers,” Grimalkin said. “I may have a use for them.”

“Take what you like,” I told her. I wondered what she wanted them for, but she didn’t volunteer the information and I didn’t ask. Despite our alliance, the witch assassin did not share everything with me. There was much about her that would forever remain a mystery.

I walked across to inspect the pit Jenny had dug, and then sent her back to the house to study in the library so that she wouldn’t be part of the grisly task I now had to perform.

Grimalkin helped me to bury what was left of the Kobalos assassins. Apart from the two sabers, I stored the rest of their weaponry in the small room where I kept the spare staffs.

The entry into the garden by these assassins only made me more certain that I was doing the right thing in traveling north with Grimalkin.

The Kobalos threat was indeed imminent.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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24

The Journey Begins

T
HE
following day, we started to prepare for our journey.

We bought provisions, and Grimalkin carried a tent into the western garden, setting it up to show us the quarters we would share on the journey. It wasn’t like the ridge tents that I’d seen the County military use; it was a tall, conical structure—a covering of skins was supported by five long poles that bent over to meet at the top. Each pole was formed of three short sections that could be slotted together when erecting the tent. It made them easier to carry.

One thing caught my eye. Stitched onto the skins were a number of circular pieces of what appeared to be silk; each was embellished with the image of a red County rose. The tent was functional, no doubt well suited to its purpose, but the roses made it look somewhat grand.

Grimalkin told me that we would need such a tent in the far north, where it was difficult to keep warm at night, but she didn’t mention the roses. I wondered where she had gotten the tent.

I bought long sheepskin jackets for me and Jenny; we could wear them under our cloaks. At the moment, the County weather was chilly enough to make them welcome. Winter would come early this year.

By the end of the week, our preparations were complete. Grimalkin already had her own horse and had procured three more—one each for Jenny and me, and one to carry most of our supplies. My final act was to leave a note for Judd Brinscall, telling him of the assassins and their fate at the hands of the boggart. I wanted him to be aware that there could be further intrusions into the garden.

With that, we set off, heading eastward. At the end of that first day, we rode through a valley in single file, high hills on either side. Grimalkin was in the lead, while I brought up the rear. The sun had already sunk, and darkness was not far away. I’d already had enough. I was far from comfortable in the saddle, and the prospect of weeks of riding filled me with dismay.

Ahead I saw a small lake, and Grimalkin signaled that we should set up camp beside it.

She left Jenny and me to put up the tent while she lit a fire and caught some fish for our supper. We struggled a bit—erecting the tent required some skill; no doubt we’d get plenty of practice as we went.

After we’d eaten, we sat around the fire for a while.

“How has the first day’s riding been?” Grimalkin asked.

“Not comfortable,” I replied.

“My bum’s sore and the insides of my legs are rubbed almost raw,” Jenny complained, “but no doubt I’ll get used to it.”

“You’ll get used to it, all right,” said the witch assassin. “Today we have begun slowly to allow you to adjust. Tomorrow we will go a little faster. After we reach the coast and sail across the Northern Sea, we will get up to full speed. We have a long way to go.”

Soon after that, we turned in for the night. The ground was hard, but the tent proved surprisingly warm. Wrapped in my blanket, I fell asleep within minutes.

At last we reached Scarborough, a small coastal port with a high castle. There we booked our passage and boarded a large three-masted ship.

We left our horses behind at a livery stable; the owner halved his exorbitant price after one threatening glare from Grimalkin. We stowed our baggage in the hold, intending to buy or hire new mounts on the other side of the Northern Sea. Grimalkin had traveled this way many times before and knew what she was about.

And so we sailed slowly away from our own land, across an expanse of water that was quite calm. I’d been warned that, more often than not, the crossing here could be extremely rough.

“What’s bothering you?” asked Grimalkin, looking at me closely as we leaned over the starboard rail, staring down at the calm water. The lack of wind meant that our vessel was making little progress. “You seem deep in thought.”

The witch assassin wore a thick gown with a hood and gloves. Had there been a rough sea with spray, she would doubtless have retreated to her quarters belowdecks; even Grimalkin was vulnerable to salt, although she had a far greater tolerance than others from the Pendle witch clans.

“You’ve convinced me of the need to make this journey,” I told her. “But I don’t like to be away from the County for too long. I feel I’m letting the people down—not doing my duty as John Gregory would have expected.”

“By traveling with me, you are doing more to help the County than you can imagine. Together we can gather knowledge about our enemies that might make the survival of the County possible. Soon the Kobalos will attack the northern kingdoms. If they fall, they will then press on southward to the coast. Our own lands lie just across this sea. We face a new darkness; one even worse than that threatened by the Fiend. The Kobalos intend to destroy and enslave humanity, make no mistake about it.”

“But we really
will
be back in the County within a couple of months? You will keep your promise?”

“I will do my very best to bring you back well within that time. We are heading for the kingdoms that border the Kobalos lands. Once we disembark, we will head for the northern regions, where there is ice and snow all the year round. It is only September now, but in another couple of months, winter will be nigh and the cold will come south. We need to return before that happens. We shouldn’t have to go far to learn what we need. If it comes to it, we will race the snows south.”

The weather changed quickly, and soon we were being battered by a cold wind from the north. The sea grew choppy, then mountainous. Jenny was sick first, and less than an hour later, I too brought up my breakfast. Whether Grimalkin felt the effects of the stormy sea I never knew; long before the first salt spray stung my eyes, she’d retreated belowdecks.

At the end of our sea crossing lay a port called Amstelredamme. Here Grimalkin hired a fisherman to take us farther up the river to a small town where the proprietor of a large stable greeted Grimalkin with a low bow and called her ma’am. It was clear that Grimalkin was well known to him and that they had traded together previously. We were furnished with four excellent mounts. Grimalkin handed over the payment. She seemed to have an endless supply of money—most of it in the form of gold coins. It was what she referred to as her war chest.

Some of our provisions were carried in panniers attached to each side of our mounts. Once again the fourth horse was used for baggage, carrying the tent and the bulk of our food and equipment.

As we set off, Jenny patted her horse’s head and whispered into its ear. It was a beautiful creature with a friendly disposition, and despite her earlier doubts and discomfort, she was clearly delighted to be riding it. But Grimalkin noted this and shook her head in warning.