Dark Water Breaking (Gunpowder & Alchemy Book 2)

by Dan Davis

  ‘Us?’ Weaver said. ‘What did we do? Those ones don’t even know anything about us; they ran away before we even got there.’

  ‘But they do know about you,’ Cedd looked at them in turn. ‘About all of you. Do not ask me how they know but know they do. Word has gotten out into the world that the protection spells that once protected the borders of the Vale have failed. Word has gotten out that Bede has fallen and the Vale is now open for exploitation. And word has gotten out that there are four special young people who can control the very elements with the power of their minds. Rumour has it these four had also stolen the alchemist’s dragon. Even as far away as London I heard the detail that one of them – a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, no less – reads from an alchemists book of magic.’

  Writer was shocked. ‘And that is how Hopkins and Stearne and the rest knew to come here. Not just to the Vale but here to our house? And they knew about the spell book because… somehow everyone knows about the spell book.’ She felt her heart racing. ‘I’m sorry mother, I’m sorry father. I brought them down upon us after all, because I did not listen to you and practised spells anyway.’

  ‘That’s all right, dear, we don’t mind,’ her mother said, although Writer knew she was lying.

  ‘And anyway,’ her father said. ‘Just because they knew you were trying to do spells does not give them the right to seize you in the night and try you as if you were a common criminal.’

  Archer had his thinking face on. ‘What about the soldiers?’ he asked Cedd. ‘Are they working with this Hopkins? Is that why they were searching for us? And why they were after Burp?’

  ‘Where is Burp?’ Writer asked. ‘And Keeper? Did something happen to them?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Weaver.

  ‘No,’ Archer said, glaring at Weaver. ‘They’re fine. Soldiers were looking for them, coming down the valley searching houses for a dragon. Vale folk ran before them to spread the word and Keeper got Burp out in time and they both came to our farm for somewhere to hide. Keeper was the one that told us you’d been arrested for being a witch. Then we left right away to save you.’ He looked down but Writer could see his cheeks had gone red.

  ‘The soldiers burnt down that old Ellen and Owen’s house, though,’ Weaver said. ‘The old couple who took Keeper in after we escaped. When the soldiers couldn’t find Keeper or Burp they got angry and stole all their stuff then set fire to their house and went off after Keeper again.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Writer said. ‘Then what happened?’

  Archer shifted in his seat. ‘We left to come here but before we did we sent Keeper and Burp into the hills with my little brother and little sister, to be safe.’

  ‘Your little brother and sister?’ Writer said. ‘How can they look after Keeper?’

  ‘Well,’ Archer said. ‘They’re both older than me, now. And no soldier could find them up in the hills. They’ll be safe until we get back there.’

  ‘So you’re going back?’ Writer said, trying to stop herself sounding disappointed. She did not wish to appear rude. Of course they would want to back at home.

  Archer hesitated. ‘We must do something about the soldiers,’ he said. ‘We must not allow them to be in the Vale. We have to take control of our land.’

  ‘That sounds very dangerous,’ her mother said.

  ‘Are you mad, son?’ Writer’s father said.

  ‘They’re doing something at Bede’s Tower,’ Archer continued, speaking only to Writer. ‘We should find out what they are up to.’

  ‘I realise I am merely a guest here,’ Cedd said. ‘And as such my opinion means little but I believe it dangerous to take on soldiers directly. That is why it is of my opinion that we return to Archer’s family, collect your friend Keeper and we must obtain the dragon. To ensure their safety, you understand. And then we must somehow retake Bede’s Codex from Hopkins. It is only through the use of the spells in that book that we can hope to resurrect - ‘ he broke off mid-sentence, tilting his head to listen

  Writer heard it too.

  A horse galloping up the lane to the house. Horses were rare in the Vale. There were only a few and they were very precious and they were almost never galloped. Writer jumped up and ran to the front door to see who it was.

  ‘Wait,’ her father placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘It may be Hopkins’ men come to take you away again.’

  ‘I can take care of myself, father.’ He looked hurt but let her go.

  The horse rider was yelling at the house. ‘Writer? Does Writer live here? Is Archer here?’

  ‘It’s my brother,’ Archer cried as he ran by Writer and flung open the front door with a crash. ‘What are you doing here, Edmund?’ Archer cried to the boy on the horse as he grabbed the horse’s bridle and patted its sweating neck. The rider did indeed look like Archer but he was covered in mud and filth and seemed exhausted. His dirty face betrayed his panic. He was breathing heavily and he was swaying in the saddle. The poor horse was so tired it hung its head and breathed deeply, shaking from exertion.

  ‘I have found you at last,’ Archer’s brother Edmund said to Archer. ‘Went all the way to Morningtree looking for you. Everyone there is talking about Maerwynn.’ He looked over at her. ‘That must be you,’ he said, smiling at her like Archer smiled. But then his smile died away.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Archer said to Edmund, grasping his brother’s leg. ‘What has happened?’

  ‘It’s your friend Keeper,’ his brother said. ‘The soldiers have taken him. And the dragon, too.’

  ‘Taken?’ Archer said, glancing round at her, his eyes wide. ‘Taken to Bede’s Tower?’

  ‘No,’ his brother said. ‘They’ve taken them to Coalschester.’

  Into Thin Air

  Archer had made an enormous mistake. The thought of what had happened to Keeper and Burp made him feel sick and hot. The only thing he could do to make up for it was to get Keeper back.

  He looked out through fog across the cold brown waters of the Sweetwater Bay as the winter sun rose on the horizon. Choppy waves flecked with white slapped against the Morningtree dockside and the hull of the boat moored at it. The wind whipping at his face was stiff and damp and promised rain later in the day. Archer watched a seagull swooping up and down facing into the wind; tiny changes in the angle of its wings up or down made it rush forward and down or come up to a stop and a hover over the surface. The seagull did not appear to be looking for food. Archer thought it seemed to be simply enjoying the feeling of the air expressing joy at the sunrise. But who could know the mind of a bird? Archer just wished that he was able to fly. That way he could fly himself to Coalschester and rescue Keeper.

  He rubbed his face and asked himself the question he’d been asking himself all night; why had he left Keeper alone in the hills?

  Keeper had come to him for help and Archer had instead gone running to rescue Writer, as if Archer was some hero from a song when the truth was that she had rescued herself. She was the cleverest person he’d ever met. She knew how to do alchemists’ magic. And since that last time he had seen her she had learned how to control her power to move water with her thoughts. Archer realised now that he had been blinded by wanting to prove to her that he was brave and loyal and clever enough to save her but instead all he’d done was show he was an idiot. Only, it was not Archer that was being punished for his foolishness but poor Keeper.

  Keeper, who had never hurt anyone, and Burp who was almost completely harmless despite being a dragon, had both been attacked and carried off in chains to Coalschester by four soldiers.

  And now Archer was setting off to follow them. He meant to make up for his mistake and to punish those responsible. His heart ached at the thought that he might be too late.

  Last night, his brother Edmund had told the tale after Writer’s parents had brought him in to their house and fed him some stew and hot cider.

  He had told how Edmund and their sister Willow had taken Keeper and Burp up into the hills just as Archer had planned.
In the first day they got all the way to the shepherd’s shelter. It was little more than a low structure nestled into a dip between two hills.

  The next day they had built up a fire to try to dry out the shelter even more. Edmund and Willow tried to clean out the shelter while Keeper and Burp went to stretch their legs and wings over the hill.

  Edmund had heard shouting. He and Willow had scrambled up to the brow to see Keeper getting tied up by one soldier with three more wrapping Burp up in chains.

  The soldiers had headed off south, shoving Keeper before them and together dragging Burp along the grass by long lengths of chains. Edmund and Willow had followed, staying hidden.

  The soldiers stopped by the grove of four oaks up on Longlook Hill. They had a wagon waiting there with a horse.

  ‘We snuck up and heard them saying how far it was to Coalschester. They were arguing about whether their horse would be able to pull the weight of the dragon all the way there before dark,’ Edmund explained. ‘They were threatening Keeper, telling him to control the dragon or they’d kill them both.’

  So they had run home for help. Their parents told Edmund to bring back Archer and Weaver. Willow and their parents were going to try to head off the soldiers before they got away from the Vale.

  ‘So we have to go back to the farm,’ his brother had said.

  ‘No,’ Archer had said. ‘We’d be too late. The soldiers will be in Coalschester before we can get back to the farm.’ Archer had turned to Cedd, who was looking at him strangely. It had made Archer irritated but Archer needed the alchemist. ‘Do you know the way to Coalschester?’ he’d asked Cedd. ‘We have never been outside the Vale.’

  ‘Indeed I do know the way,’ Cedd had answered. ‘You could find it by following the foul stench. But finding your way there is not the problem. The roads are heavily guarded. There are guardhouses and forts. These soldiers will arrest anyone suspected of being from the Vale. Even if you avoid capture you shall find Coalschester protected by a wall and entry through the gates is tightly controlled. You know that England is embroiled in a bitter civil war? There has been years of open warfare with the forces of King Charles and his Alchemist’s Guild fighting against the English Parliament and General Cromwell’s New Model Army? To move about the country you must have papers, signed documents, which prove you are for Parliament and Cromwell and not a spy for the Royalists and Alchemists.’

  ‘A piece of paper isn’t going to stop me,’ Archer remembered saying.

  ‘A laudable sentiment, young man,’ Cedd had replied. ‘But there are perhaps a thousand soldiers in Coalschester. Each with a musket that could kill you with one shot, never mind the dozens of cannons on the walls and the landships. However,’ he said, pausing and looking around the table at each of them in turn. ‘I do have a much better suggestion. A safer way. I have a boat. The boat I sailed into Morningtree from Coalschester. I suggest we sail around the coast and up the River Colne into the Port of Coalschester. I am recognised there as a trader.’

  ‘What about us?’ Archer had asked, gesturing to Weaver and himself.

  ‘I am not leaving you three now that I have you. You shall be my three grandchildren, who I have brought with me from up north where I am known to be from.’ Cedd had replied.

  ‘Three?’ Writer’s mother had said, aghast.

  ‘You are not taking our daughter with you,’ Writer’s father had said. He was really rather old and generally a kind man but the way he had said that made Archer feel afraid of him.

  But not Cedd.

  ‘I understand you wish to keep her safe,’ Cedd had calmly replied. ‘Hopkins and Stearne shall return to drag Maerwynn into another trial. Or perhaps they will simply take her away, probably to the Tower of London. Nowhere in the Vale could she hide from a concerted search, as we have seen with the boy and dragon. And so you shall have to fight them and defeat them. Or… send Maerwynn away until the danger has passed.’

  There had been much arguing and tears but somehow Cedd had convinced Writer’s parents to let her go. Writer herself had been very firm in stating that she must go with Cedd and her parents had given in.

  They had packed supplies, slept for no more than a half a dream and set out before dawn before too many townsfolk were out and about asking questions. Archer had said farewell to his brother who was to take the message back to his family that Archer was going to Coalschester to bring Keeper and Burp back.

  And that was how he found himself standing on the dockside at dawn, looking out over the cold, dark sea through fog at the rising winter sun and wishing he could soar like a seagull.

  ‘Come on, Archer,’ Writer said to him. She was already in Cedd’s boat at the front of it but looking backwards at him. Writer’s eyes were shining with an inner light and her cheeks were a rosy pink from the cold. He knew that she could not wait to get the boat going over the water. Long had she looked from the window of the Tower and wished to sail across the seas.

  Weaver and Cedd were in the middle of the boat, each of them ready with an oar to pull them out into the estuary bay far enough to put up the sail which would blow them away from Morningtree and the Vale and around the coast to Coalschester.

  The seagull swooped down one last time then soared up and up into the air and wheeled away to the south on a strong with and in moments it was nothing but a speck. If he could fly then he would have no need for Cedd and in fact he would never… he caught himself daydreaming again. There was no point wishing for a balloon that he could steer. Perhaps one day. But not today.

  Archer took a deep breath and stepped into the boat. It was time to make up for his mistake.

  ‘I promise you, Keeper,’ he said into the wind. ‘I’ll save you.’

  The Scinnlac

  She was in an actual boat, heading out to the sea. It was still only the Sweetwater estuary they were sailing on but Cedd promised the water beneath them was salty and not fresh water. The distant banks were wreathed in the swirling morning mist and Writer knew that they had sailed further out from Morningtree and the Vale than anyone had before and she was thrilled when the land to either side and Morningtree behind them disappeared and reappeared as the wind blew holes in the mist.

  Morningtree was a town built right at the mouth of the Sweetwater. Twice every day the river rose up at high tide and drained away again. The Vale folk used boats for travelling up and down the Sweetwater as far upriver as Bures but they had never been able to travel further out than about three or four furlongs into the estuary before Bede’s protections spells stopped the boats from going any further. They would shudder against an invisible barrier and be forced around. Animals, the wind and the water flowed freely through the magical barrier but never a person, never in time out of mind. But Cedd’s boat, which was named the Scinnlac, had sailed right through the point where the barrier had been without stopping.

  ‘We are floating out with the tide,’ Cedd shouted to her from the back of the Scinnlac, holding on to the stick that controlled the direction. ‘High tide is on the turn, flowing back out into the sea and taking us with it.’

  She was at the front, right in the pointy end and below the water fizzed and bubbled where the boat pushed it out of the way. The mast in the middle of the boat had a large triangular sail attached to it vertically and the bottom side of the triangle was attached to a horizontal beam called the boom that Cedd had warned Archer and Weaver to watch out for in case it swung around and hit them. She looked down at her friends and laughed. They were huddled down in the middle of the boat looking grey and green in the face. Weaver looked completely miserable, with her shoulders hunched and arms folded. Archer had his eyes squeezed shut. She laughed again and turned her face back into the spray, watching the way the dark water parted for the boat just underneath her.

  ‘You are a natural sailor,’ Cedd called. ‘Come to the stern and use the tiller while we are yet in the estuary.’

  She grinned and headed back to him past Archer and Weaver, who did not even
look at her, and she ducked low under the boom and sat beside Cedd at the back of the boat.

  ‘This is called the tiller,’ Cedd said, pointing at the stick he was holding that disappeared into the frothing water behind the boat. ‘The back of the boat is the stern. The front is the bow. The middle is the beam. That is the mast and sail. The sail catches the wind and pushes the sail forward. And the sail is attached to the mast and the mast is attached to the hull. The hull is the shell of the boat, that which makes it float upon the water. All the ropes running everywhere are called the rigging and they do many things such as hold the mast upright even in high winds and they raise and lower the sail. The tiller here controls a long flat paddle we call the rudder.’ Cedd broke off and glanced at her. ‘You’re remembering all of this?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Writer said. She thought it was all extremely wonderful and she would not forget any of it. ‘Tell me what makes it work,’ she said. ‘I want to know it all.’

  Cedd smiled. ‘A noble sentiment, my dear,’ he said. ‘The best way to learn is by doing, so why not take the tiller yourself?’

  It was like a handle. She gripped the front of it and leaned her forearm on the rest as Cedd had done. It was as though the Scinnlac had sprung into life beneath her. The tiller pushed against her arm and she had to push back quite firmly to hold the boat pointing out to sea.

  She launched question after question at him and Cedd explained about tides and leeway and steerage way and the risks of being capsized or pushed onto a lee shore. About tacking and jibbing and sailing into the wind.

  While they spoke they drifted down the long estuary on the tide. Cedd explained that meant that the water underneath the boat was itself moving and the boat was sitting on top of that moving water. They angled the sail and tiller so they also picked up some speed from the wind. The tree-lined banks grew further apart as the Scinnlac tacked away from Morningtree. The sun rose higher into a low, grey sky. Archer and Weaver stayed huddled and miserable while they edged further and further east. She thought Archer had probably fallen asleep. Weaver looked green.