Robert of Jumieges nodded and looked down at his feet.
‘You’re right of course.
Auribus teneo lupum
, I have one of those wolves by the ears. It’s about to bite my head off and there’s absolutely nothing my god can or will do about it. He simply doesn’t listen or respond to certain types of human suffering. If the abbess Edgiva is to be rescued, I have no recourse other than to throw myself upon your mercy, appeal to your humanity. Will you help me?’
‘Archbishop,’ replied Twilight softly. ‘Are you familiar with any of the writings of Homer, the great Greek poet?’
‘No.’
‘In his work called
The Odyssey
, the story of a great and tortuous journey undertaken by a warrior called Odysseus, a witch called Circe turns his shipmates into pigs as part of her attempt to seduce him. Odysseus resists these attempts at seduction until the witch turns them back into men.’
Jumieges thought about this for a moment.
‘As you did with my guard. But the seduction is incomplete, you turned him back into a man again without asking me for anything in return.’
‘Never forget the power of the pig, Archbishop. We may come again to reclaim an injustice. Then it will be your turn to be a four-legged squealer . . . and we just might not reverse it.’
Robert of Jumieges had nightmares about that for months.
‘I knew,’ said Tara as they floated high over Hereford Castle, the strongly defended bastion of Swein’s cruel earldom, ‘that you wouldn’t be able to resist that archbishop’s heartfelt plea for help despite that gruff, silent, man-of-magic-but-not-easy-to convince bit you were giving him. Despite your avowed dislike of religious leaders and all that stuff about ‘the fickle futility of some faiths’ and turning him into a pig, he had you eating out of his hand.’
Twilight laughed loudly.
‘He sure did, my little Irish firebrand. I didn’t know which way to turn. Had me trussed up like a chicken ready for the pot. Anyhow, what self-respecting male veneficus worth his salt is going to turn down the chance to save a damsel in distress, eh?’
‘Especially one imprisoned in a castle by a wicked earl.’ Tara laughed with him.
‘Another reason could have something to do with you. In the year or so you have been with me, have we rescued any damsels in distress from anywhere?’
‘None whatsoever,’ Tara said. ‘I have been deprived of such events in my training.’
Twilight pointed downward, his mien turning serious. The drawbridge of Hereford Castle was slowly winding downward. As soon as it reached ground level over the moat surrounding the castle, the pointed steel bars rose and at least a hundred fully armed men clattered over it. At their head rode a tall, powerfully built man in a full suit of chain mail. Bare-headed with a mane of long, flowing blond hair and a double-handed sword bouncing around on his thigh, the man led his men rapidly through the settlement of Hereford, callously scattering people, chickens, pigs, and cattle in all directions.
Twilight nodded downward.
‘That has to be our man Swein,’ he said. ‘I wonder where he’s going.’
‘With him out of the way we could collect the abbess from whatever dungeon he is holding her in and be away before he gets back,’ Tara said practically.
‘We could but I want to learn a little more about this wicked earl first. We can get the fair Edgiva at any time. Let’s follow this little cavalcade and see what transpires.’
After riding at a fair clip for thirty minutes, Swein and his men pulled their sweating horses into the forecourt of a large manor house. As Swein and ten of his men dismounted, an old man with a regal bearing came out of the manor house with two younger men flanking him. Swein strode up to the old man and without warning struck him across the face with his mailed, metal-fingered gauntlet. As the old man fell to the ground, the two young men by his side went for their swords, as did Swein, the ten men at his back, and the others on horseback. There was a standoff for a moment as the old man staggered to his feet, his lined face covered in blood.
‘Wait,’ he said in a quavering voice. ‘Hold your swords.’
He turned to each of the younger men by his side.
‘My sons,’ he implored. ‘I do not want you to die like this. As unfair as it is we will pay the extra geld.’
The horsemen behind Swein began to encircle the three men.
‘You will not only pay the extra geld, Baron, you will pay it now!’ Swein rasped. ‘Or suffer the consequences.’
The old baron staggered and but for the steadying hands of his two sons would have fallen. He shook them off and despite the blood running down his face pulled himself erect.
‘Earl Swein, I do not have that amount of money on hand. It will take me time to get it together.’
‘In that case, Baron, I will confiscate this house and all your lands. Pay now or lose everything you own.’
The old baron bowed his head in defeat.
‘Cut them down,’ cried the earl, stepping back behind his men, who leapt forward with their swords drawn.
And then, as the two sons stood, one in front and one behind their father with their swords raised in what would be a desperate and vain attempt at protection against the earl’s soldiers queuing up to cut them to pieces, everyone, even the horses and the blood flowing down the baron’s face, suddenly froze.
And Twilight and Tara appeared in their midst.
The Wessex astounder and his little tyro walked slowly among the immobile men. Arriving at the old baron, erect and regal-looking despite the facial blood, Twilight tapped him and his two sons on their shoulders. Remaining frozen the three men could hear, see, and speak.
‘Gentlemen,’ said Twilight softly as the wild look of desperate fighters was replaced by one of bewilderment in the two younger men’s eyes as they adjusted to the scene, whilst the baron’s face showed a benign acceptance of everything that was happening.
‘We are venefici in this area on a mission. This mission involves this worthless individual.’ He indicated the frozen Swein. ‘We stumbled upon your little problem and have frozen everyone whilst we take stock of the situation.’
‘We are indebted to you, sir, and to you, miss,’ the baron said in his quivering voice, the chivalry of an old school gentleman couching his words. ‘My sons and I were close to death when you intervened.’
‘This foul earl is taking liberties with the collection of the geld?’
‘It’s more than liberties. Every few weeks he comes here and asks for more. His greed is boundless. It’s got so that we can’t pay any more, he’s had everything. All we have left is this house and our lands, and Swein was about to take that,’ one of the sons answered.
The baron spoke. ‘I do apologize. I have forgotten my manners in the strangeness of the situation. This is my eldest son, Cyrille.’ He indicated the one who had just spoken with his eyes. ‘And this is my youngest, Julien.’ He looked the other way. ‘I am the Baron Tennant de Corbierre.’ Had he been able he would have bowed to them at that point.
‘I’m Tara, and this is Twilight. He’s the cleverest wizard in the land.’
‘Aaahhh,’ said the baron, raising his white old eyebrows. ‘Wizards, eh. Now I understand a bit more.’
‘Could you please release us from this bondage?’ Julien asked. ‘I would like to kill Swein and all his men.’
‘I’m sure you would,’ said Twilight. ‘But that is slaughter in cold blood and I cannot allow that, however justified you may feel. Be patient, your turn will come.’
‘You mentioned that you’re on a mission involving Swein,’ said Cyrille. ‘May I ask what that mission is?’
‘We’ve come to save the Abbess of Leominster, Edgiva,’ replied Tara. ‘Swein has her captive in Hereford Castle. Have you heard anything of this lady and her capture?’
‘Only rumours,’ said the baron. ‘Nothing certain, although Swein wouldn’t hesitate to do such a thing if he had a mind. He’s that evil. ‘
‘Why don’t we ask him?’ Twilight said, walking over to the frozen earl, who had his sword held downward with a snarl of domination about to break out on his immobile face.
‘Before I do, I’ll just have a look inside his head.’
He paused for a few moments in front of the earl.
‘Mmmm. As I suspected, nothing much in there but greed, ambition, and hate, and a glowing and all-encompassing infatuation for the abbess.’ Twilight turned to Baron Tennant de Corbierre and his two sons. ‘An infatuation he manifests in strange and disturbing ways.’
‘I can imagine,’ said the baron.
‘What ways?’ Tara asked pertly, already suspecting that it had become an adult question and she would be denied a proper answer.
Twilight looked at her and then ducked the issue as he had with his own children.
‘I’ll tell Katre and she can decide if you should know,’ he said. Teaching the young Tara how to cope with the Cowering Dead and the Equinoctial Mists and how to handle and kill savage, brutal people through the use of the enchantments was one thing - but telling her about the sexual antics of depraved men - something completely different. He’d left all of the basic birds and bees stuff with his own children to Rawnie, who had coped perfectly.
‘Coward,’ sniffed Tara.
Twilight nodded acceptance of her accusation and tapped Swein on the shoulder. Give him a real nasty villain any day.
The earl came to in a bile-spitting, screaming rage. For two minutes he screamed every epithet he could lay his tongue to at Twilight without repetition. There was nothing, NOTHING the old sorcerer would ever do that would protect him from Swein’s revenge. There was no place he could hide, no hole deep enough or dark enough or far enough away. Swein would find him and feed his flesh to the wolves and drink his blood; even death wouldn’t stop him. Twilight tapped him on the shoulder again and the tirade stopped in mid word. He looked down at Tara, who smiled sweetly back at him.
‘And I suppose you’re going to ask my mother to tell me the meaning of some of those words as well,’ she said, sticking her tongue out at him impishly.
He went back to Swein.
‘I have come to get Edgiva, the Abbess of Leominster,’ the old wizard said when the earl finally realized that screaming abuse only got him silenced again and actually listened.
‘Over my dead body,’ spat Swein.
‘So be it,’ said Twilight. ‘I will also be taking all the money you have extracted from the good Baron Tennant de Corbierre here and giving it back to him.’
A look of fear flitted briefly across Swein’s face. For the first time he was beginning to understand that this old man, with the long silver and black hair and the blackest eyes he had ever seen, actually exercised a complete control over him and his actions, and there was nothing all his bullying, intimidation, and manpower could do about it.
‘What will it take to make you change your mind?’
‘You leave this man, his sons, and lands in peace and only levy the geld on them that is fair and equitable. As regards the abbess, I will only leave her with you if that is her own wish.’
‘She won’t want to leave me . . . ever,’ sneered Swein.
‘We’ll see. Where are you keeping her?’
Leaving all of them still frozen and only the baron and his two sons with speech, sight, and hearing so they could converse, Twilight and Tara transformed to the locked chamber in Hereford Castle where Edgiva was being held captive. Once the abbess had got over the shock of the sudden arrival of the pair in her chamber, Twilight explained the situation, including the fact that they were here at the request of the Archbishop of Canterbury.
‘As God is my witness, Swein is holding me here against my will,’ Edgiva said quietly, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. She was a tall, willowy woman with dark brown hair, a most attractive face and demeanour. Her long, simple cotton robe reached to the floor, and she had braided her hair into a knot on the top of her head, accentuating her height.
Out of deference to her plight and position, Twilight refrained from exploring her mind.
‘Swein said you’d never want to leave him.’
‘He’s totally wrong about that. He has abused me beyond all reason, such that I can never again enter the service of the Christian Church as before. My future in service of my faith has been taken from me by that cruel and depraved ogre.’
‘What would you like us to do with him?’
She thought about this for a while in silence.
‘I don’t honestly know,’ she said finally. ‘Every part of me wants him dead, yet my beliefs forbid such an action.’
‘Okay. Leave that to us. In the meantime let’s get you out of here. Take our hands.’
They deposited the abbess in the private chambers of Robert of Jumieges, the Archbishop of Canterbury. The archbishop, who was at Mass, was sent for and arrived red-faced and full of gratitude. Making their excuses, Twilight and Tara left them both and returned to the manor house of the Baron Tennant de Corbierre.
‘What are we going to do with Swein and his soldiers?’ Tara said, walking around the frozen men. ‘If we leave him here he’ll be back to his old ways as soon as we’re gone, and the baron and his two sons here will be the first to feel the heavy hand of his revenge.’
‘Exile,’ said Twilight emphatically.