Eight Kings (The King's Watch Book 6)

by Mark Hayden

  ‘Go ahead,’ said the judge.

  Before speaking, the man looked over at us. Not at the Boss, but at Iain Drummond. Whatever he saw satisfied him and he began. ‘Cador Mowbray,’ he said. Cador? They do have some strange names in the world of magick. ‘I act for Lord Mowbray of Pellacombe, Elector of Wessex.’

  A woman with greying brown hair stepped forward. Her robes were so fine that they could have been silk, a shimmering white with a pale blue sleeves and a matching pale blue cloak. I noticed her belt, then the belts of the others. They were all made of rope, and red was the most common colour, mostly worn by the younger women. Otherwise, the cords were pale yellow, green, brown or white. The woman about to speak wore yellow.

  ‘I am Brook, Seventh Daughter of Ash Coven in the Homewood at Glastonbury. I speak for all the Daughters. Our suit is simple: stay the election and let us petition the Sword King for a new charter. Women are explicitly forbidden from standing or even voting in the existing charter. In the twenty-first century, this is illegal and unsupportable.’

  ‘Mr Mowbray?’

  ‘What my learned friend calls the “Charter” is no such thing. A charter is granted by a king to a lesser body like a city or a guild. The document is a deed, a constitution if you prefer. Only a staff king in office can change it, and it is not subject to alteration by this court. There will be no staff king until an election is held.’

  These two opening statements from the lawyers were the legal equivalent of boxers taking the ring and touching gloves. They now proceeded to slug it out with precedents and citations that only four people truly understood – the combatants, the judge and Iain Drummond.

  ‘Who’s winning?’ I hissed when there was a pause.

  ‘Cador,’ replied Drummond. ‘She can’t land a glove on him.’

  So I wasn’t the only one with a boxing metaphor in their head. Either that or Drummond is telepathic, and true magickal telepaths are rarer than hydra’s teeth. Or so I’m told. Lord Mowbray probably has a pet hydra.

  Drummond continued, ‘It’ll change in a minute. Brook is going to take her ball home. Watch her sidekick.’

  A glossy young Witch stood next to Brook. She had very short robes, above the knee, and the same light blue sleeves to her robe. She also had a holiday tan and wore very simple leather sandals. Her belt was red, and tucked into it was a rolled piece of parchment, secured with a rainbow ribbon. The Witch had her left hand on it.

  The judge used her pen to point at Brook. ‘No,’ she said. I understood that bit.

  Brook turned to her junior and accepted the parchment. She tapped it against her palm and waited until every eye was firmly on her. ‘This is not directly relevant, My Lady, but I thought the court should know that the Chapter of Gloucester met yesterday.’ She held up the scroll. ‘They have put their seal to a proxy vote, with the Eldest as proxy.’

  ‘Ooh,’ said Hannah.

  ‘Shit. Fucking shit,’ said Cador’s sister/cousin. The judge went ballistic.

  She pointed to the woman and said, ‘Who is that?’ in an icy tone. She obviously knew, but it’s a legal thing.

  ‘My sister, Eseld Mowbray, My Lady. She …’

  ‘Ms Mowbray, you are in contempt of court. You will apologise now or spend the night in the Undercroft.’

  Everyone froze, all eyes now on Eseld. The young Mowbray paused for half a second, then slowly got on her knees. Her trousers cut into her thighs, and she had to hitch them twice before she got all the way down.

  ‘Mercy, My Lady. I am truly sorry for my outburst.’

  Her brother’s accent was pure public school; his sister’s vowels stretched in a very Cornish way. Interesting. Her chest was now in sunlight, and through the cheap shirt, I saw the outline of Artefacts on a chain. A Mage, then. Even more interesting.

  Judge Bracewell allowed the silence to stretch out. ‘One more word out of turn and it’s a week. Understood?’

  ‘My Lady.’

  ‘Get up. Daughter Brook, you were saying?’

  Cador helped his sister to her feet, and squeezed her shoulder supportively. Eseld was white with fury and embarrassment.

  ‘Thank you, My Lady,’ said Brook. ‘We now have ten votes under proxy. Enough to block the election in perpetuity, and we will block it. The choice will then pass to the Sword King’s deputy, Her Royal Highness the Duke of Albion.’

  Iain Drummond was now the centre of attention. ‘I speak for the Duke of Albion,’ he said. ‘Her Royal Highness is as keen to remain impartial in magickal politics as her mother is in mundane affairs. If the election of the staff king is unresolved, it will be passed to the Occult Council with a request for a commission to review the constitutions of all seven English staff kingdoms.’ He paused. No one looked happy. ‘The Crown urges the parties to compromise.’ He finished with a bow and stepped back.

  The Mowbrays started to confer, and an older Witch in green robes with a white belt whispered urgently in Brook’s ear.

  ‘Well?’ said the judge.

  ‘My Lady,’ said Cador, ‘Lord Mowbray would like to offer a conference of reconciliation, at Pellacombe, under the seal of hospitality.’

  ‘That is generous, and a positive step,’ said the judge. ‘Daughters?’

  Brook was caught. ‘Could we have a short adjournment?’

  ‘Ten minutes,’ said the judge. ‘And you can all stay in here. When the Bailiff lifts the axe, the blocking Ward will be released and you can get a mobile signal if you need to phone home. Bailiff, call me in ten minutes.’

  The Daughters, the Mowbrays and the King’s Watch retreated to their corners. ‘You knew that was coming, didn’t you?’ said Hannah to Drummond. Her tone reminded me of an older sibling, surprised and respectful that the younger one has got one over on them. I used to use that tone a lot with Rachael.

  ‘I knew it was in the pipeline,’ he replied, ‘and that’s why I went to the Palace yesterday to check, just in case.’

  ‘What is the Gloucester Chapter, and why have I never heard of it? I asked. After all, Clerkswell is in Gloucestershire.

  ‘One of the many hangovers from the Reformation. Basically, it means any Mage willing to go to the cathedral and pray.’ He grinned. ‘You could go, if you’re willing to take the risk of being struck by lightning.’

  ‘I’ll pass, thanks.’

  ‘What now?’ said Hannah.

  ‘I think the Eldest will go for it, if Brook can get her on the phone.’

  ‘Aah, yes. How is she?’

  ‘Recovering. She can still perform the Miracle.’ He saw my face – and Mina’s – and added, ‘Their leader is called the Eldest Daughter. She keeps the job as long as she can perform the Miracle of Glastonbury, but don’t ask me what it is. She had a small stroke recently.’

  Mina had been watching the Daughters closely. ‘What is it with the belts and the colours? I think the short green outfit over there, the one with the red belt, would really suit me. It would suit me better than her.’

  Drummond deferred to the Boss.

  ‘The belt says which Coven they belong to. There are loads of Covens up and down the country, all limited to thirteen Witches. They all have equal standing, except the top ones, and a red belt means that they don’t come from one of the top Covens. The red ones here are all young Witches based in London, I imagine, come along to see and be seen by the top brass.’

  ‘And the others?’

  ‘White is Hawthorn Coven of Highgate. Do you see the one who spoke to Brook? That’s Síona, First Daughter of Highgate. Top Witch outside Glastonbury. She sits on the Occult Council for the Daughters. She’s a bit too ascetic for my tastes.’

  ‘That leaves yellow, green and brown, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, and they are the three Homewood Covens. Homewood is their sacred grove complex, south of Glastonbury. Did Conrad tell you about the Forest of Arden?’

  ‘He did, and that it exists on a different plane of energy, invisible to mundane eyes.’

 
‘Homewood is the same. You get access by going through one of three trees: an oak, an ash and a willow, and those are the Covens. Yellow for Ash, green for Willow and brown for Oak.’

  Mina nodded to herself. ‘Brook is Seventh Daughter of Ash. I see. If there are only thirty-nine members of the Homewood Covens, seven is a lot to come here.’

  ‘This matters a lot to them. The last elections were held in 1974 when the last Duke of Albion died.’

  ‘Let me guess,’ I said. ‘The Duke of Gloucester?’

  ‘Got it in one. The Daughters tried to get things changed then, and they succeeded in Strathclyde and the Isles, but not in the Heptarchy. This is the first chance since, and Wessex is their home turf.’

  ‘What’s Lord Mowbray like?’ I asked.

  Drummond grimaced. ‘Wait and see.’

  Hannah pointed to me. ‘He doesn’t like the sound of that, and neither do I. What have you cooked up, Iain?’

  ‘Gather round!’ said Stephanie. Drummond grinned at Hannah and took his place in the circle.

  Judge Bracewell glided back and lowered her hood. ‘Well, counsel?’

  Brook checked a piece of paper. ‘The Daughters welcome this suggestion, so long as it is backed with genuine intent, and we accept the offer, subject to safe passage, guarantee and witness.’

  Hannah shook her head at Drummond. ‘Sneaky,’ she whispered.

  ‘Mr Mowbray?’ said the judge.

  ‘My father’s intent is always genuine. The other conditions are acceptable, so long as they come from this court.’

  Judge Bracewell gave Drummond a long, searching look. Our Deputy is clearly a gifted back stairs operator, and he went up in my estimation. Very neatly done.

  The judge spoke. ‘Now I know what the Watch Captain and the Peculier Auditor are doing here. And there was me thinking that it was an educational visit.’

  ‘Me?’ said Mina in a small squeak.

  ‘Mmm,’ said the judge. ‘I appoint Watch Captain Clarke as guarantor of safe passage and Ms Desai as witness.’

  Hannah nodded and said, ‘My Lady, I request that Watch Officer Hawkins be named also, to advise Mr Clarke on the more advanced aspects of magick.’

  There was a snort of derision from one of the older Witches. Clearly my reputation precedes me: they know how little magick I have.

  ‘Fine,’ said the judge. ‘I name Officer Hawkins as co-guarantor. Mr Mowbray?’

  Cador Mowbray bowed low. Eseld was trying to make herself look small. ‘An excellent choice, My Lady.’

  ‘Good. Agree the dates amongst yourselves.’ She took a look round the circle. ‘So mote it be.’

  We all bowed, and she left us.

  The Daughters couldn’t wait to get out when Stephanie opened the doors. All of them looked at us – Mina and me – as they left. The older ones covered their curiosity with a respectful nod to the Constable, and I distinctly heard the word Dragonslayer passed around.

  Eseld Mowbray looked very uncomfortable. She was trying to brush dirt off the knees of her trousers, to little avail, and she shook her head when her brother pointed to us.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ said Hannah. ‘I did not see any of that coming. Except Eseld getting in trouble. I predicted that.’

  ‘What does all this mean?’ said Mina. ‘What do I have to do?’

  ‘You can find out over lunch,’ said Cador Mowbray, coming over and shaking hands. When Mina made namaste, he followed suit smoothly.

  At the mention of lunch, Mina panicked. She had shopping to do – we were going on a cruise in four days. ‘No need to come, love,’ I said. ‘I’ll take notes. You get off.’

  ‘But I can’t get out of the tunnels!’ she said.

  ‘Where did you come in this morning?’ said Hannah. ‘Surely he didn’t make you walk from Bank Station?’

  Mina looked at me. ‘He did. He says he has only one key.’

  ‘Oy vey! You shall come with me, and Annelise shall give you a key to the Middle Temple entrance. It’s the nearest, and you’ll be here again often enough.’

  ‘Thank you, Hannah. See you later, Conrad.’

  I kissed her goodbye and everyone left except Cador and me.

  ‘There’s someone I’d like you to meet,’ he said. ‘Or should I say renew your acquaintance. Oh, damn.’ The last remark was uttered when his phone rang. ‘Excuse me, won’t be long.’

  ‘I’ll get changed,’ I said.

  ‘After you’ve helped me with the cloth,’ interrupted Stephanie.

  By the time I’d helped her remove and fold the black drape, Mina and company had left the Crown Robing Room, and I was able to get changed. Cador Mowbray was waiting outside the door when I returned to the lobby.

  A stream of Daughters emerged from the Lay Counsel’s room, now in their street clothes. No one had a suitcase, though.

  ‘Where are their robes?’ I said.

  Cador gave me a strange look. ‘They’re wearing them. These are only Glamours. That’s one of the things the Cord does.’

  ‘Cord?’

  ‘The Cord that Binds. Mostly used as a belt.’

  A pair of Witches smiled and passed. Behind them, the pregnant woman saw us, stood up and saluted.

  ‘Squadron Leader. Good to see you again, sir.’

  I thought I recognised her. ‘Flight Lieutenant Kershaw. It’s been, what, three years? Is it Ms Kershaw now?’

  ‘I’m still in the Reserves, sir, and it’s been four years. I left after that tour in Syria.’

  ‘That was a bad one, wasn’t it. Congratulations, by the way. When are you due?’

  ‘Beginning of December, but I won’t be able to fly, soon. Didn’t Mr Cador tell you?’

  ‘All in good time,’ said Mowbray. I noted the old fashioned use of Mr Cador to distinguish him from his father, Lord Mowbray. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he continued. ‘Have you seen Eseld?’

  ‘In the ladies. Here she is.’

  Eseld was not wearing a Glamour. I could tell that because she was stuffing the cheap suit, thin shirt and plastic shoes into a carrier bag bearing the logo of a fast fashion chain. She was not wearing a Glamour, but what she was wearing was something else entirely, even if it did keep to the black and white theme.

  Her blouse was frilly, but not in the least feminine. Think eighteenth century army officer. Or pirate. It was teamed with a short black and white plaid skirt, black leggings and aggressive leather boots. There was more leather for her jacket, belt and a pair of wristbands. Leather wrist bands? I know. There was one splash of colour: the piece of blue silk that matched her brother’s tie had been fastened round her belt. Oh, and she now had purple lipstick.

  She thrust the shopping bag on to Cador. ‘Here. You can keep these for one of your conquests, in case they need something for the walk of shame.’

  Her accent was pure Cornish, all right. How did the older sister, a Mage, end up with the local accent and sporting a look that most teenagers wouldn’t touch with a barge pole?

  Cador tucked the bag under his arm. ‘I’ll bet you’re glad I made you go shopping now. You would have been in even more trouble otherwise. I have known the Honourable Mrs Justice Bracewell to order that offending items of clothing be removed.’

  Leah Kershaw found this very amusing. She also hid behind Cador so that Eseld couldn’t see her grinning.

  Cador introduced me to his sister formally, and we shook hands. Her fingers were warm, and I could feel Lux trickling down them. Ah. That’s what the wrist bands were for.

  ‘Lunch,’ said Cador. ‘For some of us. You’ll have to excuse Eseld and me. That phone call was something we’ve got to sort out. I’m sure that you and Leah will have plenty to talk about, Conrad.’

  ‘And it gets me out of shopping,’ I added.

  ‘Good. Follow me.’

  We left via the Lay Counsel’s rooms, now deserted. A corridor ran through them leading to a heavily enchanted steel barrier at the end, and Stephanie was waiting to lock up behind us, having chec
ked the other rooms first. Stairs beyond the barrier led up to a door that opened with a mundane key, and we emerged into a church that both Leah and I know very well – St Clement Danes, the RAF church.

  I walked instinctively to the aisle where hundreds of slate badges have been set into the floor. Leah and I served with 7 Squadron. I still do.

  Eseld was looking angrily at her brother. Still.

  ‘We’ll leave you here,’ said Cador. ‘I’ll see you at Pellacombe, and say Hi to Rachael if you see her first.’

  Before I could respond, the Mowbrays were gone. That was something I needed to follow up as a matter of urgency: if Cador Mowbray knew my sister, I needed to know how and why.

  Leah and I found the badge for 7 Squadron and bowed our heads for a moment. ‘Granddad was in 7,’ she said. ‘Made his day when I got in. Want to see any more? I get terrible morning sickness and now I’m starving.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘The Kernow room at the Waldorf. We can walk from here. I’ll just light a candle.’

  The Waldorf? Nice.

  Leah’s own Cornish accent had got stronger since she left the RAF, as had the bridge of freckles across her nose. Did I fancy her when we served together? You bet. Did I do anything about it? No. I had a strict rule – never hit on the junior ranks. I avoided a lot of trouble that way.

  I sat down for a moment and sent three text messages while she lit her candle, then we left the church to the tourists and crossed to the Royal Courts of Justice, where Judge Bracewell was no doubt ensconced.

  ‘You must know how I ended up in the Watch,’ I said. ‘Everyone seems to know my business. How did you end up with the Mowbrays?’

  ‘My dad works on the estate and he met my mum there.’ Leah held her finger and thumb a quarter of an inch apart. ‘Mum has magickal talent that big. Just enough to get her a job in the big house. I’m completely mundane.’