A Skin of a Dragon (The Guild of Gatekeepers Book 1)

by Frances Jones

  'Please, sir,' I said. 'You seem to know a great deal about the Guild, or at least more than non-members or initiates are permitted to know. George told us in his last note that you are a magician. Is that true?'

  'I have dabbled here and there,' replied Rupert, 'but you are right; I do know something of the Guild in that I know of it, which is more than is permitted for non-members. Nevertheless, there are other magicians and magical organisations all across Europe, though none as long-established as the Guild of Gatekeepers. 'Twas from them that I learned magic.

  'I first met George in my boyhood while I was living in The Hague. He travelled regularly and would visit from time to time. He would delight my brothers, sisters and me with magic tricks, and we looked forward to his visits, though they were irregular and always unexpected. I began to suspect he was more than just a merchant with a gift for sleight of hand after becoming acquainted with some of the Bohemian magicians who were exiled from Prague following my father's defeat at the Battle of White Mountain. From them, I learned the basic principles of magic which I would later discuss with George long into the night after I first arrived in England. At a time, I was to become his successor- hence the basic knowledge of the Guild that I possess -but the Civil War put an end to that, and it must be said I have not practised much magic for some years; not since my dog, Boye, died. He was my familiar- an entity conjured to serve a magician or witch that adopts the guise of an animal. He was marvellous! He saved me from a few close shaves by catching flying bullets in his mouth! He would certainly be a good companion to have with us now, but I am afraid we are going to have to rely on our wits far more than magic to get the dragonskin to the King.'

  ‘Have you a plan?' I asked.

  'Only for the interim,' replied Rupert, lowering his voice to a whisper. 'For tonight, we will stop and rest at the first suitable place we reach. I am not sure that you and Eliza can ride very much further tonight. In the morning, we will continue to the home of my friend on the edge of Bodmin Moor. We will be safe there, and it would be wise for us to lie low for a time to throw off any pursuit from the Shadow Horse or others.'

  'How far is it?' I asked.

  'Around twenty-five miles, though I do not intend to take the road, and I know many shortcuts which will lessen our journey considerably. We should arrive there by sun-down tomorrow.'

  We rode for another half an hour or so as the moon rose and glowed through a line of poplars upon a low ridge away to the east. Ralph was stumbling with weariness and soon lagged behind Pluto. Rupert looked back at us then halted before a sheltered hollow in which grew a thicket of hazels.

  'We will stop here for tonight,' he said. 'Your horse cannot ride any further without rest. I am sorry it is not more comfortable, but at least we will be out of the wind.'

  Eliza and I dismounted and threw ourselves down in the shelter of the thicket, too exhausted to worry about the gnawing hunger in our stomachs, while Rupert tethered the horses to a nearby tree to graze before settling down to keep watch.

  Chapter 41

  It was still dark when Rupert woke us. The moon had disappeared, and a freezing fog hung in the air and wreathed itself around the hollow. We ate a meagre breakfast from Rupert's supplies and set off just as the sky in the east was beginning to turn pale.

  'How long will we be staying with your friend?' Eliza asked as we rode.

  'Hush,' said Rupert. 'Though we may not see them, I have no doubt that enemies and spies are near at hand. Please be more guarded in your speech.'

  We rode in silence for a long while after that and looked about warily as daylight broadened. Though the fog lingered through the morning, I felt exposed and feared unfriendly eyes peering out of the hedges or woods that we passed by. Every now and then, the road would flash into view away to our right, but it was deserted. I glanced up at the leaden sky uneasily. I had felt ill at ease since we started out, and my fear had only grown throughout the day.

  'What do you think has become of the Shadow Horse?' I said to Eliza, not daring to raise my voice above a whisper.

  'I don't know,' she replied. 'Our escape must have thrown it off for a time, but it can easily track us now we are on land.'

  'Look overhead!' said Rupert suddenly.

  We halted and looked up to where he pointed. Sure enough, a hawk hovered high above, scouring the ground below with its sharp eyes.

  'Get down!' he hissed, climbing down from Pluto at once and pulling me and Eliza to the floor with him as the hawk began to circle us. Eliza and I pressed ourselves against the ground beneath the horses while Rupert crept forward and rested his musket on a grassy mound that rose a little way ahead. There was a loud bang, and a trickle of smoke wafted back to where we lay and stung my eyes and throat. When it had cleared, the hawk was gone, but a dark speck could just be seen sweeping down to a thick cluster of trees in the distance before disappearing.

  'Did you hit it?' I asked.

  'I don't think so, but it is gone- for now, at least,' replied Rupert.

  'Do you think it was one of the Venatorian's hawks?' asked Eliza.

  'Who knows,' said Rupert. 'It may have been nothing more than a hawk hunting for food, but unless we know for certain otherwise, we must assume the worst. I am vexed that I did not hit it. Come, we should hasten on right away. 'Tis not safe for us to stay in the open for long.'

  We mounted once again and set off at a gallop, maintaining our pace as the land allowed. A sharp breeze swept down from the rocky knolls high above and seemed to penetrate to my very bones. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and rain now pattered down all around.

  Rupert allowed us one brief rest as close to midday as I could tell beneath the heavy sky. We sheltered beneath a pile of tumbled stones and made a cheerless meal of his remaining supplies, but he would not permit us to light a fire, even if we could get anything to kindle in the ceaseless wind and rain.

  'The sooner we leave, the sooner we will reach our destination,' said Rupert as he set us on our way once more. 'So grit your teeth and think of the roaring fires and warm beds that await you.'

  Eliza and I groaned but said nothing, too tired and cold to think of anything more that our wet clothes and numb hands and feet.

  So we passed the rest of the day quite miserably. I barely glanced at the land around us as we rode and kept my chin pressed to my chest to keep out the driving rain. By mid-afternoon, the heavy rain had subsided only to be replaced by sheets of fine drizzle that rolled in from the coast. The gloom all round us deepened as the clouds overhead swallowed up what little light remained, thrusting us into the darkness of a premature night.

  'How much further is your friend's home?' asked Eliza hopefully.

  'Still several more miles,' replied Rupert.

  'You said we would be there by sundown, and we have ridden all day,' complained Eliza.

  'The sun hasn't yet set, though from the darkness you would be forgiven for guessing otherwise,' said Rupert. 'Another hour, and we should be close. Chin up Eliza! The house of one of England's finest magicians awaits you.'

  Eliza made no reply. She was too proud to acknowledge to Rupert her curiosity at his final remark, but secretly she wondered about the mysterious character whose home we were heading for. Growing up in the shelter of the Gatehouse, she had had little contact with the world outside and was somewhat disconcerted to learn that magic was not only known of but studied by so many others outside the Guild.

  Chapter 42

  We rode on for another hour. Had there been light by which to see, we would have noticed the land we now passed through had altered dramatically: the tree cover had largely disappeared, and here and there a rocky tor or lonely standing stone, pointing like a finger towards the sky, could be seen atop the bare hills and ledges that leaned over us as we rode.

  We had reached the edge of Bodmin Moor; a rugged, bleak stretch of land where few people travelled after dark. Rupert seemed to know where he was going without hesitation and led us along a win
ding track up towards a shoulder of a hill upon which a castellated manor house stood, flanked by tall holly trees upon either side. As we approached, the gates were opened by unseen hands then clanged loudly behind us as they shut again.

  Behind the gates, a small courtyard opened onto the three wings of the house, the largest of which stood before us. Through its windows, lights twinkled, and the smell of cooking wafted through the air.

  'This is the house of Edward Treadway, and this is Treadway Castle. We shall leave the horses here; Edward's groom will attend to them,’ said Rupert as he dismounted.

  'Is he expecting us?' I asked as Rupert led us across the courtyard to the doors leading to the main wing of the house.

  'No, but he will not be surprised by our visit,' replied Rupert, 'and so that is as good as an invitation.'

  The words had scarcely left his lips before a frightful baying broke out, and four muscular, fearsome-looking dogs bounded out of the darkness and sprinted towards us, their mouths curled back into vicious snarls. Eliza let out a little scream and shrank back behind me as I glanced about for something with which to fight them off. Rupert alone seemed unconcerned. Taking one confident step towards the snarling beasts, he held out his hands palm outwards. The dog closest to him at once settled upon his front, his head resting upon his enormous paws. The three dogs behind him did likewise and remained motionless as we hurried past them to the house,

  'What did you do?' I asked in amazement, not daring to take my eyes off the beasts for fear that whatever power Rupert had over them may suddenly cease.

  'I have an affinity with dogs,' replied Rupert. 'My own hound, Boye, was famous among canines.'

  With that, he hammered upon the enormous wooden doors with his fist. Eliza and I waited nervously, unsure what to expect but somewhat relieved when a plump, middle-aged woman with a kindly face and rosy cheeks opened the door and peeped out into the night. The comforting light of many candles streamed out onto the steps.

  'Mrs. Treadway!' exclaimed Rupert. 'You haven't aged a day!'

  'Rupert,' she cried, thrusting the door open and ushering him in. 'What brings you to my door on a night such as this? We thought you were banished from England?'

  'I was,' replied Rupert, 'but I have returned in secret. George Prye required my assistance, and I in turn require your husband's- if he is willing.'

  'You know Edward,' said Mrs. Treadway. 'Anything for you and George. Gracious me, who are these two poor souls? They are soaked to the bone! In you come, my dears. Take off your cloaks- that's right. We shall have you dry in no time.'

  She chivvied us through a small entrance hallway, with oak-panelled walls and a grand and imposing staircase leading to the upper floors, into what was once the great hall but now served as the Treadways' dining room.

  On the far side, a fire blazed in a hearth that spanned almost the entire wall, and candles filled the numerous alcoves and sconces arranged about the room. Above the hearth, the Treadway coat of arms- a robin in the centre of a shield fashioned of holly branches -was emblazoned upon a red banner. On either side, two enormous stags’ heads looked down upon the banqueting table that occupied most of the room.

  At the head of the table sat a man with closely cropped white hair and a well-tended beard on his chain that had been groomed to a point. Above his lips, his whiskers had been carefully arranged into an upturned mustache. At his throat, he wore a collar of white lace, and tucked into his belt, I noted a wand of yew wood.

  'Edward, see who has just arrived,' said Mrs. Treadway, hurrying in behind us.

  'Rupert!' said Edward, rising from his seat to greet his friend. 'We were told you had been banished after the siege at Oxford, though I did not believe that would be the last England would hear of you. What brings you to my door? I fear it is not something pleasant, given the manner of your arrival.'

  'I am afraid not,' replied Rupert, embracing Edward then seating himself beside him. 'These are my companions, Tom Wild and Eliza Ellery.'

  'Hello, and welcome to Treadway Castle,' said Edward. 'Friends of Prince Rupert are always welcome here.'

  'That is well,' said Rupert, 'for they are also friends of George Prye.'

  'George!' exclaimed Edward. 'I have not seen him for many a year. How goes he?' he asked, turning to me and Eliza. Mrs. Treadway had taken our cloaks and was busy settling us in chairs beside the fire.

  'He is in considerable danger at present,' said Rupert. 'It concerns the Guild of Gatekeepers, the King, and that damned Cromwell.'

  Edward sighed. 'Cromwell,' he muttered. 'Go on. It is plain there is quite a tale behind all this. We had better hear it at once.'

  Now sufficiently warmed and drying off beside the fire, Eliza and I filled Edward in on our adventures up until meeting Rupert in Truro, after which Rupert took up the tale.

  'I had already returned to England in secret after spending only a short time in exile, and I rode to Truro like a gale to meet Tom and Eliza. I am afraid it seems that George's communications may have been intercepted; poor Tom and Eliza had an extremely close shave with a Roundhead brute purporting to be me. It also seems that Devere has command of at least some of Cromwell's men, not to mention the Shadow Horse. As things are, we have little hope of delivering the dragonskin to the King on the Isle of Wight. We need your help, Edward, if only for somewhere to stay in order to throw the pursuit off for a time. You have always been a good friend to me, and I realise the danger our presence places you in, but I would not ask unless we were desperate. Can you help us?'

  Edward looked grave. He stood up and poked the fire with the tongs.

  'I am not afraid of Cromwell or his men,' he said, 'and you are of course more than welcome in this house, whatever the danger, but you must realise that William Devere is a far greater magician than I am. I am afraid he will not simply turn aside from his pursuit. The dragonskin is legendary among magicians. It is not a thing that one who desires it desperately can lightly pass over.'

  'You are a greater magician than I,' replied Rupert. 'You underestimate yourself. If anyone can aid us, it is you.'

  Edward smiled. 'And I will. Tomorrow, we will consider the best course of action, but for now, what sort of host would I be if I did not feed hungry travellers who come knocking at my door? Be seated. The meat will be served shortly.'

  We took our seats around the table while the Treadways' servants laid out the evening meal. We ate hungrily and spoke little, and Edward and his wife did not trouble us with talk. When we were done, Mrs. Treadway led us back out into the little hall and up the stairs to where rooms had been prepared for us.

  'There is more wood in the basket if the fire burns low,' she said, showing me and Rupert into our room. 'Eliza, you are further down the hall. Now is time for rest. Do not let your cares trouble you. The morning may yet bring clarity and hope. Good night.'

  My head had barely touched the pillow before I was asleep. Outside, the wind whined through the crags and rattled the window panes. In the distance, the howls of a pack of hunting dogs echoed across the moor. The pack leader, a large, muscular beast stood before the gates of Treadway Castle, his ears flattened to his head and mouth curled back into a snarl. The pack crowded behind him. Their master had set them on our trail, and they could smell our horses beyond the gate and hear their quiet chomping in the stable. The Treadways' dogs howled and bayed at the unfamiliar pack that clamoured at the gates. At that moment, there came a blinding flash of white light from the window of the tower above my window.

  'Begone,' cried Edward as a shard of burning white metal flew from his hand and landed at the feet of the pack leader. It blazed for a second before exploding silently with a vapour that sent the pack into a fit of madness. The wolves foamed at the mouth and ran wildly about, crashing blindly into one another as they scattered about the dark moor. The leader howled in rage, vainly calling the pack back to him, but they paid him no heed. With his pack dispersed, there was little he could do but slink off into the night with his ta
il between his legs.

  Chapter 43

  It was still dark when I woke. Rupert's bed was empty. I lay still for a few minutes, savouring the warmth of the bed, before getting up. I crossed to the window and peeped out behind the drapes. There was nothing to see in the darkness but a handful of stars in the black arc of sky.

  'I wonder where Rupert is,' I thought to myself as I closed the drapes and returned to my bed.

  As if in answer to my thought, the door of the room opened softly, and Rupert crept in carrying an oil lamp and a bundle of papers under his arm.

  'Hello, Tom,' he said, setting the lamp down upon the wash stand in the corner of the room. 'I hope I didn’t wake you; I'm afraid I couldn’t sleep, so I thought to pay a visit to Edward's library.'

  'What have you there?' I asked.

  'Maps,' Rupert replied. 'We must plan our onward journey carefully. The roads will undoubtedly be watched, so we will have to find our way across country. I am not familiar with the land between here and the Isle of Wight, so I must consider our route carefully.'

  My heart sunk. 'I thought you said we were to lie low here for a time?' I said.

  'We are, but we must be prepared. In the morning, Edward will advise us of our next move. He is a magnificent magician, but a humble one, as you saw earlier. He certainly equals Devere in his magical abilities, but as I have said before, I fear it will be wits not magic that will see us through to the Isle of Wight.'