by Mark Hayden
We hung back to let her go through the doors and collect the rest of the Daughters. Lena was standing outside the dining room and welcomed us. One of the Daughters waited inside and intercepted Mina. It was Zoe, the Treasurer.
Hedda may have warned them off certain subjects, but she’d said nothing about not discussing the Flint Hoard. The Daughters have a big interest in that. Before Zoe could kidnap my love (who was too polite to resist), Lena stepped in with a rescue.
It turned out to be a bit of frying pan into fire moment when Lena said, ‘Mina, you are on the top table. With Lord Mowbray and Hedda.’
‘Errrr….’
‘This way.’
The dining room had been rearranged from the informal buffets we’d enjoyed. A small rectangular table with settings for three had been put near the window with four round tables of five in front. Lord Mowbray had chosen to honour his guest by putting Hedda in the centre, with him to her right and Mina to her left. Mina did not look happy, not that anyone except Saff could tell. She’d let her hair come forward and no one could see her face.
The place settings for the lesser tables had been designed to keep some people apart – Eseld and her mother, for example. In fact, I think that Lena had worked out my table and then thrown the others in the air. I found my place on the table with Eseld, Alys, Brook and Kiwa and leaned on the back of the chair. We all stood until everyone was sorted, then we turned to look at the top table.
Lord Mowbray cleared his throat and said, ‘Today is a special day. Each one of you honours me by sharing my bread and my board, and it would be a special honour if the Eldest Daughter of Glastonbury called for a blessing on our food.’ He bowed to Hedda and stood back.
The Eldest, without thinking, gave her staff to Mina and lifted her arms. Mina looked at me and her eyes bulged with shock.
Hedda took a deep breath and spoke the words,
‘Lord and Lady,
Sun and Moon,
Accept our thanks for the sacrifice of Mother Earth,
And help us return it threefold with grace.
So Mote it Be.’
We echoed the last line and sat down. From the sides, blue-shirted staff started to circulate with food and, from a young lad, drink. He was very young and very flustered. Instead of bottled beer and cider, we got two lots of cider. I must admit that I hate the stuff, and asked Kiwa to pass the water jug.
Eseld was on her best behaviour, and had followed her father’s instructions regarding a tone-down of her dress. Up to a point.
I’d admired Lord Mowbray’s blue frock coat when he got up to speak. Very flamboyant. Eseld had exactly the same coat. You couldn’t miss her.
Over lunch, Eseld was the model hostess, asking everyone questions and trying to get as many neutral topics of conversation going as possible. I did my bit, especially when it came to the Arden Foresters. They are a coven in Warwickshire that I was involved with when Vicky and I were called in to sort out the incident of the Phantom Stag. I didn’t say too much about the deadly incident and its traumatic aftermath, but as soon as I mentioned them, Kiwa wanted to know as much as possible, much to Alys’s discomfort.
It took me a minute to work out why: the Arden Foresters is a mixed coven. Kiwa clearly knew the theory of their organisation and wanted to know much more about how it worked in practice. Alys started squirming at this point, and suddenly said, ‘But do the men really add anything to the coven?’
I shrugged. ‘I’m not a Witch. Or a Warlock. I didn’t grow up in a coven or attend the Invisible College. I can really only comment on the King’s Watch.’
Eseld’s black eyebrows flicked up and she said, ‘All the Druid gatherings are mixed, aren’t they? Tell us about Caerleon…’
‘Oh yes, the Dragon,’ said Kiwa.
We were lingering over Mowbray estate cheese when Lena nudged Ethan and he got up to say that coffee would be served at the other end of the room, and could we leave our seats to allow the staff to clear the tables ready for the ceremony.
Before we could stand up, Raven bounced to her feet. When Raven speaks, everyone listens.
‘I would like to propose a special toast at the end of our stay at Pellacombe. You can join in if you agree with me. This toast is to all the staff here who have looked after us, and especially to our hostess, Lena. You have done a magnificent job. To Lena!’
Not a single person held back. Lena went redder than Medbh’s hair and when Ethan went to start a round of applause, she grabbed his hands to stop him, so he kissed her instead. I caught something out of the corner of my eye, and a lot of what had happened since Monday made a lot more sense.
‘I’ll grab the coffees,’ said Eseld to me. ‘And I’ll see you outside.’
‘Thanks, but I need to see Mina first.’
Eseld reached up to pat my shoulder. ‘No you don’t. I’ve been watching, and she’s not sending you distress signals. Go and take some of that cheese to your Familiar or he may never forgive you for shutting him out.’
I wasn’t going to take her word for it. I went on my toes and peered over the crowd. Mina had her back to me and was being introduced to Kerenza. I put some of the brie and a couple of oatmeal crackers in a napkin and headed for the terrace.
I half expected someone to join us in the sun, but we had the place to ourselves. I turned and leaned on the balcony and thanked Eseld for the coffee when she appeared. When we’d lit up, I risked all sorts of hell by saying what I’d seen when Ethan kissed Lena.
‘You love him, don’t you?’
She turned and kicked the stonework. Hard. So hard it scratched her patent leather lace-ups. ‘Bastard. Fucking bastard hell.’ Her anger wasn’t directed at me; it all went inwards. When you lash out at masonry, the pain takes a few seconds to register. When it did, she started hopping. ‘Oww. Oww fuck.’ She turned to me. ‘I knew you were trouble, Mr Conrad Bloody Clarke. How did you guess?’
‘There had to be a good reason why you don’t speak to Lena.’
‘She’s a freak.’
‘It takes one to know one. When Ethan kissed her just now, I was the only one who could see your face.’
‘Like I said, you’re trouble. Dad said I had to smarm you. I didn’t think you’d actually take any notice of me.’
I let that pass; I’m not her therapist. She put her foot on the balustrade and tried to rub the scratch out of her shoe. ‘Go on then. Say something.’
‘Like what? You’re entitled to your obsessions, so long as they don’t hurt anyone but yourself.’
‘You’re a brutal sod, aren’t you? Never mind.’ She sighed and gave up polishing. ‘It was never really reciprocated, and we never did anything that cousins shouldn’t do. Dad found out and warned him off. And me. He brought the Imprimatist down from Glastonbury and she showed us why we were too closely related to ever be a happy couple.’
‘Now that’s brutal,’ I said.
‘If you’re born to the staff, it comes with the territory. Are you going to tell anyone other than Mina?’
‘Like Saffron? No. Not unless it’s relevant. It wouldn’t hurt you to talk to Lena, though.’
‘Too late for that. Can I cadge another fag?’ After she’d lit up, she continued. ‘I thought I was over him. I really did. Then Lena turns up. Maybe it’ll be different when they’re married.’
She was near to tears. It wouldn’t take much to tip her over the edge. While she was vulnerable, Mina would have switched the conversation to Isolde or Medbh and reduced her to a complete nervous wreck. And people call me brutal?
‘Any chance of a last ride tomorrow morning?’ I said.
She tried to smile. ‘Of course. When do you have to leave?’
I didn’t answer, because Saffron appeared and waved us in.
In our absence, the tables had been cleared and cleaned. Every place had a sealed envelope by it with the words Text of Agreement printed on the front. In smaller letters it said To be opened after the Ceremony. Glasses had been set out and
jugs of iced water were busy gathering condensation. I poured for everyone (long arms) and looked at the top table. They didn’t have a jug, just glasses, to avoid the danger of spillage on the elaborate piece of parchment which took centre stage. Next to it was a brass dish containing sticks of red sealing wax. In front of each chair was the occupant’s seal.
Lord Mowbray’s was gold, as you’d expect, as was Hedda’s. Unless my eyes deceived me, both bore the trademark of Dwarven handiwork. Mina’s little number in sterling silver looked very much the poor relation.
When the last jug had been thumped on the table, Mowbray rose to his feet. In his left hand was a bunch of index cards. He glanced at the top one and then flicked through the rest before looking round the room. His eyes stopped at the fourth table, the one with Raven, Kenver and Medbh on it. Something changed in his eyes and he dropped the cards on the table. He smiled at the room and began to speak.
‘I did not expect my third child to return to Pellacombe today. That alone would have made it special for me. This Agreement is a bonus. I don’t need to tell you how hard you’ve worked to achieve it, or what it means for the future, because you all know that, too.’
He paused and took the bottom card off the pile on the table. ‘What I will say is this: the Agreement we’re about to sign is the future of the Heptarchy. Of that I have no doubt. It will be many years before those who helped create that future will know for certain that we can be proud of our work. Until then we should be proud that we’ve tried our best to shape it for the good of our land and of those who will come after us.’
He smiled at us. ‘Don’t worry. You’ll be on your way soon.’ And then he sat down.
Hedda turned to her right and nodded graciously. She folded her hands on the table and said, ‘Raven has already saved me the trouble of thanking our hosts, and Lord Mowbray has put into words my hopes for the future.’ She lifted her seal, using both hands to pick up the gold weight, and said, ‘On behalf of the Daughters of the Goddess, I make this mark of Agreement.’
Mowbray snapped off an inch of sealing wax and placed it, whole, on the document. Hedda brought down the seal and molten wax flowed from under it as magick flowed out to illuminate the writing. Literally – the ink glowed for a second. A suitable Mage could now see that the text and the seal were linked: tamper with either and it would leave a trace.
Hedda thumped her seal down and winced at the sound. Mowbray broke more wax and repeated the sealing. For the next step, he had to do things differently. He began by sliding the Agreement well to his left.
Mina stood up and the parchment was now in front of her. Mowbray came round and placed some whole wax on it. On top of that, he placed a tiny wafer of Alchemical Gold – Mina can’t use her own Lux to work the seal. He stood back and nodded.
Mina looked up. ‘By the power vested in me through the Cloister Court, I certify that this Agreement is duly concluded.’ She pressed down her own seal and the text lit up for the third time. When she bent down to blow on the wet wax, Hedda put her hand to her head and collapsed forward onto the table, knocking her glass over. Without thinking, Mina snatched the parchment out of the way of the water.
‘Mother!’ screamed Signe. She stood up and ran to the front of the table.
Lena moved even faster, hurtling round the back and shoving Mowbray out of the way. Signe had tried to cradle her mother’s head, but Lena dragged Hedda backwards, out of her chair, and laid her on the floor. She pressed her hands to Hedda’s head and set her jaw in rigid concentration. By now, almost everyone was crowded around the table.
‘Back!’ shouted Mowbray. ‘Give her some room!’
He and Mina moved the chairs and most people took a step back. Signe lifted herself onto the table and swung over to the other side. She was about to take her mother’s hand when Mowbray hauled her away. ‘Let Lena heal,’ he said.
I’d seen enough and backed right out of the crowd, searching for the white halo of Saffron’s hair. There. ‘Saff!’ I called, and beckoned her away. She walked back, trying to crane her head over the crowd.
I took her arm and yanked it enough to get her full attention. ‘Can you remember the basic engine start?’
‘Yes. Power on, wait for the OK then grab and twist the collective stick without moving it. Press the button and hold it for twenty seconds.’
‘Spot on. Run. Do it now. Go!’
There is a lot, lot more to starting a helicopter than that. Most of it is dedicated to making sure that all the controls are in the right position, and I knew that they were because I’d left them there.
Saff legged it out of the dining room, and I spoke up. ‘We’re starting the helicopter if she needs transport.’
There was a tense silence for a few seconds. I looked at Mina, who had a ringside position. She was biting her lip and rubbing her left arm where the scar would be itching with all the magick. Then Lena looked up and scanned around. When she’d found me, she said. ‘Ja. It is eine brain hemmage. She must be moved, but I cannot let go. A stretcher we need.’
‘Quickly!’ said Signe. ‘We must get her to the Homewood.’ She whipped her head round to Mowbray. ‘Do you have a stretcher?’
‘Sod that,’ said Raven. ‘Let me through.’
She didn’t wait, and shoved Eseld almost into the window. Mina jumped back and stumbled into the curtains. ‘Take hold,’ said Raven, then she bent down and scooped up Hedda in one flowing movement of muscle and power. Lena kept one hand on Hedda’s head and moved to Raven’s side. I turned and started my slow jog towards the front door.
The whine of the starter began as I climbed the steps to the landing zone. I crossed my fingers as it built, and headed for the pilot’s door. Saffron released the starter at the right moment, and the turbos carried on winding up to ground idle speed. So far so good. She jumped out and took another step into adulthood by not grinning at what she’d done. Instead, her face showed nothing but concern for Hedda.
‘Doors!’ I said. I climbed into the pilot’s seat and started to get ready. The Smurf is a clever creature. If anything was seriously wrong, he’d be telling me. The only red light showing was for oil pressure, which is what I expected. I turned to my right and saw the massive frame of Raven cradling a limp Hedda across the lawns. Lena was attached to Hedda’s head like a human IV drip.
Saff got inside the cabin, and between her and Raven, they eased Hedda inside. They had to lay her on the floor and bend her legs. Saff fastened Lena’s belt, and I saw Lena pointing. Saff got a headset from the hook and popped it over Lena’s head before getting out of the other door and closing it behind her.
They’d been followed by a crowd. Everyone had come, and then stopped behind Mowbray at the edge of the safety circle, fifteen metres from the chopper. All except two. Alys and Signe kept going. Saff ran round the front and got ready to close the cabin door. Raven had got in the rear section of the cabin and held out a hand to pull Signe inside.
Alys stood there, paralysed by fear. She wanted to go. She desperately wanted it. With time and help, she would have done. Saff counted to three and slammed the door closed. She pushed Alys gently away from the chopper, but the woman froze. Eseld sprinted across the lawn and grabbed the Witch as gently as she could. Saff left them to it and ran round again. By the time she’d got her belt on, we were at ground idle.
She switched the ICS to intercom and said, ‘Lena, is everything okay back there?’
‘Ja. All good. Conrad, nicht Heimholz. Bring sie ins Trauro Krankenhaus.’
What? The hospital? ‘Are you sure, Lena?’
‘Ja. Oder sie wird sterben.’
Or she will die. That was clear enough. I opened the throttle and leaned over to flick the ICS to crew only. When the engines were loud enough to drown out anything, I told Saff what Lena had said. She nodded.
‘When we’re in the air, I need you to put out a Mayday. Tell them we’re coming in to Truro and describe the situation. Use my rank and squadron. Anything.’
/> ‘Sir.’
It took longer to turn in the right direction than it did to fly to Truro. Saff didn’t just use my rank, she promoted herself to captain in Military Intelligence and used her Head Girl voice over the radio. It worked a charm. Or should that be Charm. As far as I know, you can’t project magick over a digital radio, but you never know.
The problems started when it became obvious that I was on a fast descent. The ICS was switched back to intercom, and Lena’s mike picked up screams from Signe. Saff swivelled round to see what was happening, and I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t afford to join in this one.
‘She’ll lose her magick,’ said Signe.
‘She will die!’ said Lena.
‘Turn round. Go to Homewood. Or…’
‘Oh shit,’ said Saffron.
Raven’s voice boomed through the cabin and over the sound of the engines. Now that was definitely magick. ‘Hurry the fuck up.’
I could do no such thing. What I could do was waggle the tail a fraction and make everyone think I was hurrying. ‘Status?’ I said.
‘Raven has Signe in a restraint,’ said Saffron, deadpan. Right.
The Royal Cornwall Hospital in Truro has a very small helipad. Right next to A&E. As we dropped out of the sky, I could see men and women struggling into Hi-Viz vests to implement the emergency protocol and make sure I didn’t land on an ambulance. They already had a stretcher at the edge of the LZ. This was going to be a hot off-load.
‘No one move,’ I said. ‘Wait for my command.’ Lena passed the message on to Raven.
We touched down and I slowed the engines. ‘Ready, Saff?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘And go.’
