Whitemantle (39 page)

‘What’s going on?’ Will asked, coming out to see.

Ebor troops were massing in the square, ready to leave the city. Edward sat proud on his great charger, surrounded by his captains. And there, under the sightless gaze of Owain of Cambray, two masons were shattering a friable grey stone with hammer blows upon a bolster. Will knew at once that it was the stump of the Morte’s Crossing doomstone. It was being chipped away, and the resulting pieces handed out as luckstone charms to the men.

‘They’ll love him for this,’ Gort said.

‘They already love him,’ replied Will.

‘Where are they going?’ Willow asked.

Gwydion did not answer, and so she looked to Will.

‘There were three doomstones,’ he said, staring into space. ‘Or have you forgotten?’

‘To Baronet Hadlea, then?’ She said it fearfully, and he saw that she was recalling with dread his sickness the morning they had left Trinovant. Going back there would not be a pleasant prospect.

‘There’s no doubt the flow in the lore is strengthening again. And it’s directed a little south of eastward.’

‘Along the yew lign?’ Gwydion asked.

‘It seems so.’

‘Well, that makes sense.’

Will knew what the wizard meant. Edward would have to ride for Trinovant if he wanted to intercept Queen Mag’s
monstrous army. It must by now have accomplished most of its journey.

‘Lord Warrewyk’s holding Trinovant,’ Will said. ‘But he has fewer men under his banner than Edward. To stand any chance of opposing the queen’s thrust against the capital, Edward will need to link up with Warrewyk. No doubt messengers have already been sent to Trinovant with orders to that effect.’

‘Come!’ Gwydion said, eyeing the soldiers who were now flooding into the Butcher Market. ‘Let us see if we cannot steal a march on them all!’

Will reached the stables just in time to prevent their horses being commandeered. They left Erewan together and travelled with all speed, taking a back way to the Byster Gate. Once outside the walls they swung down onto the track that would take them eastward.

Gwydion told them, ‘This old Slaver road leads to Caer Gloustre, and from there another road goes on to Cirne.’

Will nodded. ‘Edward is going to have to take his army across the Great River, and my guess is that he’ll do it by way of Gloustre Bridge. How far is it from Cirne to Trinovant?’

Gwydion’s eyes flickered as if he was recalling some ancient piece of information. ‘It is thirty leagues eastward to the White Hall as the crow flies.’

‘And the crow will have to fly like the wind, if we’re to have half a chance,’ Willow said.

Will saw in his mind the three-sided journey he had made. By the time they reached Trinovant again, he would have travelled completely around the great triple triangle that made up the lorc. The first leg had taken them north up the hazel and holly ligns. On the second he had followed the birch to the south and west. Now the third journey would bring him back along rowan and yew to the very place where he had started. The irony of it was not lost on him.

It’s all been a wild goose chase, he thought. How many men have died since last I saw Trinovant? And how many more will have to die before the lorc is sated?

Will sank into a dark mood. To travel along the ligns again was not a prospect that delighted him for, with so many stones gone, the third of the great doomstones was now pulling earth power without hindrance. The elixir Gort had made for him was all gone, so crossing the ligns would be torturesome. But it was no good dwelling on drawbacks, and in any case a more immediate question was nagging at his mind. As soon as he was able to pull away discreetly from Willow and Gort, he came up alongside Gwydion and asked the question straight out.

‘Why did you have to drive Lotan away?’

‘Hmmm? What did you say?’

‘Lotan – you drove him away. You couldn’t help yourself, could you? As soon as my back was turned, you made him out to be a villain. You put him under some compulsion, had him condemn himself out of his own mouth. Tell me why you did it, for I know it wasn’t pride alone.’

The wizard took the accusation as if he had been expecting it, though the insult stung him. ‘Lotan admitted his deceptions freely, Willand. And the only reason you are saying otherwise is because power is flowing in the lign—’

‘Oh, no! Don’t give me that. You made him do it. You cast a spell over him.’

‘That is not true.’

Will’s jaw clenched. ‘So, on the one hand, you’re asking me to believe that he’s a Fellow through and through, a hard-bitten spy who’s been plotting our destruction. While on the other, you say he just ups and throws it all over? Why? That’s a very sudden change of heart for one so committed to our downfall, isn’t it?’

The wizard returned a patient look. ‘I am not asking you to believe anything. But if you would know how it happened
I will tell you plainly. Before the battle at Morte’s Crossing began Lotan’s spirit was greatly unsettled. He looked ever and again to the north, hoping for your return. He knew you were to be ambushed by Chlu. That was my surmise at the time, for I saw it in his demeanour. He had made a promise to his masters—’ He held up a hand to forestall Will’s next objection.’—but you and he have been through much together, and I think that in the end he came to like you too much.’

‘He suffered a crisis of conscience because he
liked
me?’ Will said incredulously. ‘Is that what you’re saying?’

‘That is exactly it.’ He watched Will’s resolve waver. ‘You see, no man may serve two masters. And some men discover too late that the only master worth serving is their own true heart.’

Will saw that he had no choice but to swallow what was a very bitter pill. ‘Then Lotan really did betray us…’

‘If you wish. But I should prefer to think of it otherwise.’

‘Otherwise? What otherwise can there possibly be?’

‘That in the end he stopped betraying us.’ The wizard smiled regretfully. ‘We should rejoice in any withdrawal from wrongdoing, be it ever so late in the day, don’t you think?’

‘And that’s why you let him go?’

‘That is why I let him go.’

The doubts that Will had had to voice had flown like birds. The wizard was telling the truth, but Will still found the betrayal hard to digest, or to forgive. He found it hard to ask more, but he needed to know. ‘What did Lotan say to you?’

‘He told me he had been selected for his mission personally by Grand High Warden Isnar, who knew that pity would be the key.’

Will let out another long breath. ‘But surely he could have killed me as I slept. He could have murdered me at any time.’

‘He could have. But his orders were not to murder you. Nothing so crude. The Fellowship have been informed that you are to play a crucial part in an attempt to block the union of the worlds. Lotan has been trying to discover whether or not your survival works in the Fellowship’s favour. Had he determined that it would not, then perhaps he might have tried to kill you. I cannot say.’

Will pressed his eyes shut as a fresh pang of anxiety flowed through him – so much seemed to be expected of him, yet he could not see how he could even begin to accomplish anything so immense in what little time remained. He forced himself to ask, ‘How does the Fellowship know that I’m to play this crucial part? Who informed them?’

‘Maskull. He has joined with them, offered them a favoured place in the world to come.’

‘But doesn’t that jeopardize the absolute power he seeks? Why would he do that?’

‘In return for their help now. He cannot reach you on his own. He knows that time is fast slipping away, and that the Fellowship possesses what he does not – a ready-made web, thousands of followers at their beck and call. After hearing what Maskull proposed, the Fellowship sent Lotan to entrap you, to gain your trust then put the golden mark upon you so Isnar could track you.’

‘But Maskull already knew how to find me. He controls Chlu.’

‘Perhaps. But not for much longer. The day will dawn quite soon when Maskull is no longer able to trust Chlu to act for him. It may already have dawned.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Then you have not thought about it enough. As the other world approaches, so magic has been draining fast from us. As my powers have been enfeebled, so too have
Maskull’s. Virtually all that will remain in the latter days of this world is the very oldest magic – that which the fae left behind.’

Will looked far ahead to where the road forked. ‘You mean the magic which is in Chlu? And in me?’

‘Quite so.’ The wizard paused, as if to leave time for his words to sink in. ‘And – let us not forget – the lorc.’

Will shook his head. ‘But Maskull must have sent Chlu to kill me up there on Cullee Hill, mustn’t he? Yes, he must have been behind the attack, because Chlu delighted in the irony of it. He told me he had used the very same method that you had devised to send Maskull to the Baerberg. Chlu must have got that knowledge from Maskull, and Maskull must have got it from Isnar…’

‘…and Isnar from Lotan.’ Gwydion drew a careful breath, seeming to feel his way forward with care. ‘And Lotan from you. And you from – me.’

Will looked up, suddenly rattled. ‘You never had any intention of using the Baerberg trap on him, did you?’

‘Of course not. You were quite right – it would never have worked against Maskull. But as a probe to discover who was talking to whom, it has worked wonderfully well. After all, Lotan told us all that he had been to the Baerberg, so what better peg to hang the plan upon?’

‘Oh, Master Gwydion,’ Will breathed. ‘Your magic may be abating, but not your cunning.’

The wizard took the remark phlegmatically. ‘Tell me, was it the same this time as it was on the Spire?’

‘Yes. Stalemate.’

‘That is the precise word I hoped you would use. Chlu is committed to your destruction, but whatever he attempts against you does not succeed. And if Maskull did not recognize that before your combat, then he must have recognized it by now.’

Will nodded, thinking that he must now tell the wizard
what he had understood about himself. ‘I think there is a reason that neither of us wins or loses in single combat…’

But Gwydion’s thoughts had already gone off along another path. He muttered to himself, ‘So far, Maskull has been able to control Chlu by manipulating his desire to save himself when the worlds collide, but now—’

Will said, ‘You think Chlu may have come to realize that’s impossible?’

‘Impossible?’
the wizard said uneasily, alighting upon the word. ‘Why should you say that?’

‘Because it seems to me to be a fact.’ Will spoke quietly. ‘Have you not considered what must be? What always must be when the opposites of fae magic are brought together?’

The wizard looked up as Will brought his hands together, reminding them both of the green talisman and the red that had become a leaping fish.

Will looked away. ‘Chlu will not survive the collision. He cannot.’

A shrug of acceptance. ‘That much is a matter of prophecy…’

Will stared into the distance, feeling a fresh surge of disquiet. ‘And if it’s impossible for Chlu to survive the collision, that must mean it’s impossible for me, too. Isn’t that right, Master Gwydion? Is that something you know to be true? Do I have to die to bring about the end-time?’

The wizard did not answer. Perhaps he thought it best to say nothing more. Perhaps he thought there was no need.

They rode eastward all morning, pushing the horses as much as they dared. They met no carts coming westward, and Will knew the traffic had all been turned around. Sutlers and victuallers were riding ahead of Edward’s army, scouring the land to seek out stores of fodder and grain, including any goods already upon the road.

Although the scouring showed Edward’s intentions, Gwydion was still at pains to ask all foot travellers whom he met what news there might be. The answers he received added to Will’s worries. Before they had reached Gloustre Bridge, his disquiet had grown out of all proportion, and as the bridge came into view he understood the reason. He could feel the ash lign. It came slashing across the land, roaring out of the south-west, echoing with memories of death, for Cordewan, or more exactly the College of Delamprey, had been sited on the ash lign.

When Will closed his eyes he began to see monstrous sights. His thoughts darkened and his mind settled on the impossibility of saving the world from disaster. But then Willow rode up alongside to help him. She had been watching him, and had seen his increasing distress.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said, offering him something in her closed hand. ‘I thought I’d take a leaf out of Gort’s book. It ought to help you across that lign.’

He took the chip of stone and made a face that showed his respect for her forethought. In return she raised an eyebrow that said: well, why not?

‘It was a bit of a scramble pushing in among all those soldiers, but it was worth it.’

He felt his spirits soar. ‘Oh, that was kindly done!’

‘We all do what we can for you, you know. All of us.’

By the end of the second day, they had climbed over the Wolds. They heard fearful rumours on the road. It was said that the soldiers of Queen Mag’s avenging army had been promised as much plunder as they could gather. South of the River Trennet, all towns where the ravaging horde had passed had been declared fair game. They had been ransacked and the land laid waste upon a front seven leagues wide. The queen’s descent upon Trinovant had been relentless, but it had been slow.

‘He should have shut her up,’ Gwydion said with satisfaction. ‘Rash promises lose wars. How often have we seen it?’

‘You mean Maskull should have shut the queen up?’ Will asked, only half understanding.

‘Of course! He should have foreseen what would happen when his looters had got as much as their stolen horses could carry!’

‘They’d turn for home,’ Willow said.

‘Exactly. And wouldn’t you?’

‘I wouldn’t steal other folk’s belongings in the first place.’

‘Ha! I know that, my dear. But these men have fought hard battles on nothing more than promises. They think what they’ve stolen is theirs by right of conquest. And now they are going away home to enjoy it.’