Eight Kings (The King's Watch Book 6)

by Mark Hayden

  Saffron got out of the car, followed by an eight year old girl and the girl’s mother, Kerenza. If you do your research online, Kerenza will get you a lot more hits than Lord Mowbray. She is a Mage, in a small way, but she earned her money and her reputation as a model and actress. She’s fifteen years younger than Mowbray and she’ll stand out in the family photographs for being taller than all of them and blonde. She put on a radiant smile and came to wow me.

  Kerenza doesn’t just have a model figure, she has even, symmetrical features, wide blue eyes and poise. She must have tact and charm, too, because Leah said that she’s quite popular in Pellacombe.

  ‘I’m so sorry for all this,’ she said. ‘Cador text me to say that Eseld has gone to get changed and won’t say what she’s wearing for the ceremony. I had to pack some extra things in case.’

  ‘Did that include your pirate outfit?’ I said.

  Mowbray swore under his breath so that his soon-to-be stepdaughter didn’t hear. ‘Eseld won’t be wearing that again,’ he muttered. ‘Let’s get going.’

  Rather than force the women to rearrange themselves in the Range Rover, Mowbray got into the Suzuki and I joined him. ‘Does Maggie always drive like that?’ I asked as we made a stately procession around the lanes.

  ‘Safe and Steady Maggie we call her. There’s a reason her daughter gave birth in a layby.’

  There was a lot of milling about at the airfield. Saffron whispered, ‘Did Mowbray offer you refreshment?’

  ‘Yes. Coffee. Why?’

  ‘Kerenza made us try some of Maggie’s flapjack.’ She shuddered. ‘I’ve brought some in case we need to create an emergency landing zone.’

  I went to supervise the loading and I was joined by Kerenza’s little girl, Grace. She’s eight years old and looks set to take after her mother in looks, if not in temperament. She seemed painfully quiet at first until I asked if she liked flying in the Smurf.

  She giggled and put her hand to her mouth. ‘You’re not allowed to call it that. Leah said it was a secret name. Mowbray doesn’t like it.’

  At great risk of pain, I squatted down to her level and said, ‘We’ll call him Smurf if we want to. We can call Mowbray Arthur if you want.’

  She thought that was really naughty. ‘And you can call me Izzi.’

  ‘And why would I do that?’

  ‘Because it’s my name. Isolde. Mummy said I had to use my middle name when she met ARTHUR. She said there were too many Isoldes already, but Granny still calls me that, and so does my friend from my old school.’

  Poor kid. Her home was London until she was whisked away to Cornwall, and as well as Granny, her school, her friends and her father, she’d even had to give up her name. Not that her father had been around much.

  ‘What do you like best about Pellacombe?’ I said.

  ‘The horses. I’m getting a pony after today.’

  ‘I love horses, too. I was riding Evenstar this morning.’

  ‘She’s soooo beautiful. I wish I was big enough to ride her. Mowbray says she might have a foal, and if she does, it’s going to be mine as well.’

  I’d made sure to squat down near the rear wheels so that I had something to hold on to when I got up.

  ‘What’s wrong with your leg?’ said Grace/Izzi. She’s too young for the truth, so I said that I’d had an accident. I peered into the hold and moved a hat box. A hat box? Really? Whatever. At that moment my phone rang and I took the call that was going to change everything for everyone.

  ‘Hello Michael.’

  ‘Can you talk, sir?’ He was breathing heavily and I could hear outdoor noises in the background.

  ‘Yes. We haven’t set off yet. What’s up?’

  ‘I’m up top at Lamorne, and Kenver’s just turned up. He’s got Morwenna with him.’

  ‘What! Are you sure?’

  ‘He introduced her. I’m on my way down to get the buggy. I don’t have anyone’s number except yours. Could you tell Lord Mowbray?’

  ‘Of course.’

  He disconnected. Grace was still there, staring at me with a frown. ‘Go and get Arthur,’ I said. ‘Tell him it’s very, very important.’

  She ran round and stuck her head in the cabin. Mowbray jumped down and came round to the back.

  ‘Is there a problem with the Falcon?’

  Falcon? Is that what he calls the chopper? Give me Smurf any day.

  ‘No. I’ve just had a call from Michael. He says that Kenver has turned up with his sister.’

  He looked at me with utter incredulity. ‘Morwenna? Here?’

  ‘So he says. Michael’s organising the ferry for them right now. I thought you’d want to know before we got in the air.’

  ‘Too bloody right I do.’

  He took out his phone and stared at the screen then made his mind up. He jabbed a Contact and put the phone to his ear. Meanwhile, we’d forgotten Grace, who’d heard Mowbray say Morwenna’s name and had run to tell her mother.

  Kerenza marched up and said, ‘Is it true?’

  Mowbray held up his hand to silence her as his call connected. ‘Ethan, I’ve just heard that Morwenna’s crossing the river with Kenver. Get down to the dock and head them off … Yes, really. Morwenna. If it’s not her, deal with it. If it is her, get them into the boathouse until I get back … I don’t care, just do it … We’re ready to leave now.’

  He terminated the call and started to move. Kerenza grabbed his arm. ‘Not now,’ he said. He didn’t move or try to unhook her hand, he just waited.

  She took one look at his face and stepped back. ‘Come on Grace,’ said Kerenza. ‘Time to fly.’

  It was. Saff had followed to see what the fuss was about and heard everything. I made a zip-it sign over my lips waggled my phone at her.

  We flew back to Pellacombe with only helicopter related conversation in the front. In the back, they were completely silent because if they put the headsets on, we could hear them. What they couldn’t do was see what Saff was doing with her hands. She was busy texting.

  If you’re wondering where Scout is in all this, he didn’t come. When we’d started preflight checks, he’d whined and I got a sharp pain in my ears. We’d proved he could fly if necessary, so I sent him back to the ferry with Mina, and she can take over again.

  19 — Homing Instinct

  When Saffron messaged me, I was playing a game outside with Scout. Not that trying to stop him digging holes in Lord Mowbray’s meticulous borders is much of a game.

  It did have the advantage of distracting me, because I was very nervous. These nerves were not because Conrad was flying a helicopter, though that did not help. These nerves were because of the magickal seal sitting like a bomb in the ballroom. While Conrad was off riding this morning, Saffron had helped me open the box and take out the seal. My arm throbbed when I picked it up and it became very warm in my hands. Other than that, nothing.

  Saffron had said that she was pleased. It was now bonded to me. It’s all very well for her. She does not have to stick it on a crucial document and hope it works.

  My phone pinged, and I had to read the message twice.

  Saffron: Morwenna Mowbray crossing the river with Kenver. CC says get down to the dock with Ethan.

  Morwenna? Who? Aah. The missing daughter. I replied On it and shouted, ‘Scout! Find Ethan.’ And then I ran down to the dock as fast as my sandals would let me. I made it just in time.

  Ethan was already at the start of the pier, hands on his hips and breathing hard. Scout skidded to a halt on the dock and barked loudly to let me know that he had, indeed, found Ethan. The ferry was just coming up to the pier, and I could make out two young figures at the front. They turned away before I could get a proper look at them.

  Ethan had been ignoring Scout and he only turned round when he heard me arrive. ‘What are you doing here?’ he said.

  With any other Mowbray, that would be rude; with Ethan, that’s what you get. Before I could answer, he said, ‘This is family business.’

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nbsp; I nodded. ‘And if she comes ashore, it is also King’s Watch business. The agreement clearly lists members of the family present, and I’m afraid that Miss Morwenna is not on the list.’ I nodded again, just to make the point.

  Ethan blinked. ‘Mowbray told me to keep her in the boathouse until he gets back. He won’t be long.’

  ‘And if she stays in the boathouse, that’s not a problem. No matter what happens when her father gets here, she can’t go up to the house without the Daughters’ approval.’

  Ethan was clearly not used to being told that what happened on the Mowbrays’ property was anyone’s business but theirs. I had told him, and if he had a problem, it was his problem, not mine. I turned to face the young couple coming down the pier.

  I have got so used to seeing the Mowbrays – Lord M, Ethan, Cador, Eseld and the portraits in the hall – that I couldn’t believe that these children were from the same stock. Perhaps if there were a picture of Aisling on display, it would make more sense.

  The only way that I can describe Kenver Mowbray is weedy. He was gangly, thin and looked like he spent way too much time indoors. He was the whitest person on the whole estate, the Ferrymistress’s older daughter notwithstanding. He also looked very nervous. As well he might.

  His sister was just as pale of skin, but you didn’t notice that because of her mane of barely tamed wild red hair. Together with the killer cheekbones, you had a very striking young woman in her mid twenties. She was wearing a red maxi dress and a denim jacket. A heavy looking canvas bag was slung over her shoulder.

  They walked towards us uncertainly, Morwenna a step ahead of Kenver. She stopped about ten feet away and spoke. ‘Been a long time, Uncle Ethan.’ She turned to me and frowned. ‘Sorry, are you Lena?’

  I was so busy getting over the shock of her Irish accent that I didn’t register at first what she’d done. She sees a strange Indian woman and assumes that I must be the only foreigner – Lena. All I could do was laugh.

  Kenver touched her arm. ‘No! Lena’s …’ He was going to say Austrian until he realised that I could be just as Austrian as Lena. He made a quick recovery and said, ‘You must be Miss Desai, the Peculier Auditor.’ At least he spoke to me like I was a real person. I forgive him.

  ‘Namaste, Mr Kenver, Miss Morwenna,’ I said. When I straightened up, I realised that Ethan had run out of words completely. Totally dry. It was up to me to move things along, so I said, ‘I’m afraid that the Watch Captain is not here yet. Perhaps you’d like to wait in the boathouse?’

  ‘And why would I want to do that?’ said Morwenna. She tossed her hair away and her eyes flickered. This was bravado. She was scared.

  Ethan woke up. ‘Because she asked nicely. You know your dad’s not here, don’t you? They were delayed, waiting for you to turn up. They’re in the air now, and Mina’s right – for the moment, Pellacombe is neutral ground. It would be very awkward for everyone if I let you go up to the house. The chopper will be here soon.’

  That was the longest speech I’ve heard Ethan make in two days.

  Morwenna’s voice was enchanting. I’ve always loved an Irish accent, and she had that seize the day intonation that makes telling you the time sound like an invitation to dance the night away. I was falling in love with her already.

  ‘C’mon, Kenver,’ she said. ‘I expected to cause a stir, but this is creeping me out, so it is.’

  She gestured behind me, and I turned to see what she meant. Every member of staff in the old farmhouse had come out to look, as had many of the ones in the mansion. About forty people were staring at us. At Morwenna.

  Ethan turned and marched to the boathouse door. I stood out of the way to let them pass, blocking the route away from the pier in case they changed their minds. They didn’t, and followed Ethan indoors.

  The boathouse is basically a huge shed, big enough to house the ferry at night and for refuelling and maintenance. There’s also a boat lift to get smaller vessels out of the water and enough space to work on them.

  We gathered a little way from the door, which Ethan was locking, and Morwenna found time to notice the hyperactive hound bouncing in front of her. ‘Who are you, gorgeous?’ she said.

  I answered on his behalf. ‘This is Scout, the Watch Captain’s Familiar Spirit. Do you have food in your bag by any chance?’

  Morwenna bent to say hello and I got the tingle in my arm that tells me magick is being used. So she really was a Mage. She’d disappeared from Pellacombe before her talents had shown. She also kept her bag well away from Scout.

  I took a closer look at Kenver. The file said that he had been nominated heir to Pellacombe because he was a Geomancer like his father and because Eseld wasn’t interested in becoming the big cheese in the Mowbray Creamery. I wonder how much of that is true, and if it changes now that Morwenna is both here and a Mage herself. Did Eseld really say No thanks, I don’t want to inherit a mansion and thousands of acres? Kenver may be a first class Mage for all I know. That is not my department. I can tell you that he is a long way from being a natural leader. Even Ethan has more presence than Kenver.

  Ethan had finished with the door (and finished sneaking a text on his phone). He came over slowly, and we all turned to face him. He was still breathing hard, and that wasn’t from exercise. He was displaying actual emotions for once. Real ones.

  ‘I should say something,’ said Morwenna. ‘If I don’t answer to my name, it’s because I’m not used to it. They couldn’t cope with Morwenna in Galway, so I got Maeve.’

  Ethan showed no signs of responding, so I filled the silence. ‘Does that have one of those Irish spellings?’

  ‘Sure it does. M-E-D-B-H.’

  ‘You really are Morwenna, are you?’ I said it with a smile, but it was the sort of question I had to ask because I’m not a Mage. Kenver looked like I’d slapped him in the face, but his sister (if she is his sister), thought it was hilarious.

  She was still laughing when Ethan showed why doesn’t need to ask embarrassing questions. ‘See for yourself,’ he said. He raised his hands and my tattoo started crawling with magick. Morwenna changed in front of my eyes. First, her denim jacket disappeared, then her maxi dress changed from red to a green floral and the cut changed from low-waisted to high. She grew half an inch and her hair dropped and straightened. Finally, her face aged and changed from pointed to heart-shaped. I found I was holding my breath.

  The woman underneath the spell smiled and lifted her skirts to do a twirl, then slashed with her hands and the magick disappeared. It was Morwenna again.

  Kenver was furious. ‘How dare you bring our mother in like that! You sick bastard, I’m going to…’ His hand was raised and magick was on the way. I jumped between them, facing the boy and raising my finger.

  ‘No, Kenver.’ I swung round. ‘Why did you do that, Ethan?’ He lifted his hands in a lifeless shrug and had no words. ‘You loved her, didn’t you? You loved Aisling.’

  ‘No!’ said Kenver. ‘How could you?’

  Ethan shook his head. ‘Grow up, Kenver. I was a teenager when she died. Yes, I loved her. As a mother. I didn’t have one of my own. If anyone’s going to get angry, it’s me.’

  Scout barked and ran towards the door. ‘Shh, everyone,’ I said. They did. ‘There! Incoming Smurf alert.’

  We all stared at the roof, tracking the noise of the helicopter as it came lower. The sound echoed round the boathouse and Kenver flinched as it passed overhead. In a second, it fell in pitch and started to die. They were down and safe.

  ‘Do we just wait?’ said Morwenna.

  Before Ethan could answer, my phone rang. It was Saffron. I answered and couldn’t hear her at first for the noise of the rotors. They quickly faded and I heard her running. ‘I’m following Mowbray. Where are you?’

  ‘In the boathouse. Where’s Conrad?’

  ‘Dealing with the Smurf. And Kerenza. He’s also going to tackle the Daughters before they go apeshit … By the Goddess, Mowbray can run … He’s on the dock now.�
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  I disconnected the call and said, ‘Lord Mowbray is here.’ We all moved towards the entrance, and Ethan made a gesture of magick. The door banged open and a man came through, black silhouette against the sunshine. He slammed the door closed behind him and he came into focus.

  My first thought was a stupid one. It often is. It’s a good job I know to keep my mouth closed because all I could think was How did he run in that coat? His face was displaying more emotions simultaneously than Ethan or Cador have shown in two days, but it was Ethan who spoke first.

  ‘You knew,’ he said. ‘You knew where she was all the blasted time, didn’t you?’

  ‘No,’ said Mowbray. ‘Not for years. I knew she was alive, but not where.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Mowbray ignored his cousin and turned to his daughter. ‘Why now, Medbh? Why today?’

  She was scared. The emotional temperature had gone through the roof and it didn’t get any lower when Saffron banged on the door and rattled the handle. Ethan and/or Mowbray had locked her out.

  ‘Mina! Are you okay?’ she shouted.

  I do not like to draw attention to myself unless it’s in a good cause. I retreated into the shadows, dialling Saffron as I moved. She must have had her phone in her hand, because she answered immediately.

  ‘We’re fine. At the moment,’ I said. ‘What have they done with the door?’

  ‘Activated a built-in Ward. It’s way out of my league. Given enough time…’

  ‘Fine. Stay on the line.’

  The family group had quickly forgotten me and resumed their drama.

  ‘You called her Medbh,’ said Ethan. ‘All those trips to Ireland. You’ve been to see her, haven’t you? Is any of it true? What happened that night, is any of what you told me true?’

  ‘Not now, Ethan,’ said Mowbray.

  ‘Then when would be a good time, because I can’t think of a better one.’

  Kenver had gone white. Even whiter, if that were possible. ‘What do you mean? Of course it’s true.’