Green Earth Shaking: A Fantasy Adventure Series (Gunpowder & Alchemy Book 3)

by Dan Davis

  ‘Watch and learn, Maerwynn,’ Cedd told her as the first of the horsemen drew level. ‘Watch and learn.’

  And that, she admitted to herself, was the real reason she would not attempt escape. Bede and Cedd were teaching her.

  They were teaching her about alchemy. About the world. It was rather upsetting to think she was so easily bought but that was surely the truth of it. She valued knowledge more than freedom.

  ‘Good afternoon to you, gentlemen,’ the first horseman said, pulling his horse to the side of the road and touching a gloved hand to the floppy brim of his big hat. He peered down at them, wrinkling his long nose up as if they were something he had to scrape off the sole of his boot.

  Another horseman rode up behind, drew his pistol and held it ready.

  Writer looked to Cedd and Bede. Bede’s long face was pale. Even Cedd seemed nervous.

  ‘Evening, Captain,’ Cedd said. Smiling and full of confidence. ‘Where are you away to? There’s no enemy down that way.’

  ‘I’ll ask the questions, old man,’ the Captain said. He had a very large moustache and long hair. ‘I think we may relax, sergeant,’ the Captain said to the man behind him. ‘Lead the men onward and I shall follow shortly after conversing with these fellows.’

  The sergeant grunted, shoved his pistol into his belt. The men and horses began to ride by them down the road one after the other, perhaps fifty men and horse. The animals were magnificent, strong creatures yet were much laden by the men on their backs and the packs hanging from their saddles. Their heads hung low, bobbing up and down as they clopped by.

  ‘So, tell me, old man. Who are you for? The King or Cromwell’s Parliament?’ The Captain rested his hand on a large pistol by his side and watched Cedd very closely. Writer was sure that the wrong answer would lead to bad things.

  ‘Why, how could you ask such a thing?’ Cedd asked, still smiling. ‘Over in this part of the country there’s truly only one side we could be on, isn’t there?’

  ‘Out with it,’ the Captain growled. ‘Before I shoot you both for being spies.’

  ‘We are for the King, of course,’ Cedd said. ‘And that is precisely why we are here. We would very much like to converse with his majesty. Please stop your men and escort us back to the King’s camp. There is much to discuss.’

  The Captain laughed, relaxing. ‘Ah. Now I understand. You have lost your wits and are so moon-mad you need your granddaughter to lead you from village to tavern. Well, good day to you.’

  ‘I am perfectly serious.’ Cedd grabbed the horse’s bridle. ‘And you are going nowhere.’

  The Cavalier Captain whistled to his men, drew his cocked pistol and pointed it in Cedd’s face. ‘And why would I take two broken down old men and some girl to see the King of England?’

  The other horsemen passing by also stopped and drew their own weapons.

  Writer held her breath and readied herself. She was able to sense no river or stream nearby for her to use to defend herself. If pistols were fired, she would drive to the ground to avoid the shots and then she would have to run for the trees.

  ‘Because we are alchemists,’ Cedd said, mildly. ‘We are Bede and Cedd, the two most powerful alchemists in all England. A few days ago we narrowly evaded capture by General Cromwell and his New Model Army and have been seeking the rightful Kind of England ever since. You see, we would very much like to destroy the King’s enemies, grind them into dust and win the war for him once and for all. A king needs his kingdom, would you not agree, Captain?’

  The Captain stared at them for a moment. Then he stood up in his stirrups and shouted down the line. ‘Sergeant.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Please find our new guests some horses. We are going back to Coventry.’

  It took them a whole day to reach the King’s army, stopping at an inn overnight. The Captain sent his sergeant and some men to ride through the night to alert the King that Cedd and Bede were coming to him.

  Writer sat awkwardly on the horse allotted to her. They had chosen the calmest, steadiest mare they had and still she had felt in danger of falling for most of the ride up to the city where the King had made his headquarters. Although, she was pleased to have seen that Bede was even worse on a horse.

  The city was a placed called Coventry. The city itself looked, from a distance, to be rather beautiful. There were many large buildings made from cut stone, like alchemists’ towers soaring above the walls. The buildings were faced with carved stone and tiled with red, yellow and grey tiles.

  But outside the lovely sandstone city walls was a sea of mud, dotted with tents and horses and people stretching for miles. She had thought the city of Coalschester to be a stinking mass of foul and unsanitary folk but the King’s Army was something else entirely. Campfire smoke mixed with vapours from open latrines and drifted across the encampment. The stink made her retch but she covered her mouth and controlled herself.

  ‘How many people are here, Captain?’ Weaver asked him as they rode through the throngs and approached the city.

  ‘In the city, I know not,’ the Captain said. ‘But our army, here camped outside, is twenty thousand strong.’ He said it proudly.

  ‘Is that all?’ Cedd asked.

  The Captain pressed his lips together. ‘We have built a new army from the tatters of the last one. This is the largest army we have fielded in this war. An army to crush the rebellion once and for all.’

  ‘Cromwell has forty thousand, last I heard,’ Cedd said, cheerily.

  ‘Our reports agree at such a number,’ the Captain said grudgingly.

  ‘The King is outnumbered two to one?’ Bede said, horrified. ‘What had you gotten me into, old man?’

  ‘Calm yourself,’ Cedd said to him.

  ‘We have every confidence in these men,’ the Captain said. ‘Our infantry are superior to Cromwell’s New Model Army. Our musketeers are professionals. Cromwell has no more than shopkeepers and peasants. And we have Prince Rupert commanding the horse. No finer soldier in all the kingdoms.’

  Cedd and Bede exchanged a glance but said nothing.

  ‘And we have many alchemists,’ the Captain said.

  ‘Hah!’ Bede said.

  ‘I know, sir,’ the Captain said. ‘They are not as famous or powerful as the two of you or any of the Alchemists’ Guild who were locked up in the Tower of London by Cromwell. But they have been valuable battlemages, helping to win many skirmishes with local rebels. And we have the new Lord High Alchemist Bacon who teaches them what he can. I hear his wits are not what they once were so I sincerely hope you can teach them even more.’

  ‘Of course we can,’ Cedd said.

  ‘I am not teaching those charlatans anything,’ Bede muttered. ‘They’re stupid enough to join the Guild what do they expect? They should teach themselves spellcraft instead of expecting others to hand it to them on a plate.’

  ‘Shut up, Bede,’ Cedd hissed.

  The Captain pretended not to hear any of the alchemists arguing. ‘Ah, here comes my sergeant.’ He stood up in his seat and waved the man over.

  The cavalier sergeant cantered out of the city. ‘Captain, I saw the colonel. He has provided quarters in the city for the two alchemists. The audience with the King is arranged for tomorrow.’

  ‘Thank you, sergeant. Escort the alchemists to their quarters. Sirs, I shall arrange for one of the wives to take care of your servant girl and mind her while you see the King tomorrow. Plenty of work to go around, I’m sure.’

  Bede cackled with laughter.

  ‘Oh no, you misunderstand, Captain,’ Cedd said. ‘Maerwynn here must be with us when we see the king. He will certainly want to be introduced to his greatest weapon.’

  Weaver’s Worth

  Something had woken her. But it was cold and she was tired so she rolled over in her bedroll and went back to sleep again. Today was the day she’d go scouting with Captain Smith’s horse company but that wouldn’t happen until later.

  ‘Good morning, We
aver.’ It was Winstanley’s voice.

  She groaned and pulled her blanket over her head. It was barely sunrise and she was freezing. The campfire had died to nothing and it was damp on the ground and on the outside of her blanket.

  ‘Go away,’ Weaver said, speaking from underneath her cover where it was nice and warm. ‘I’m sleeping.’

  Archer was next to her and he was not even stirring.

  There was a faint banging noise. She knew it was Stearne’s brass arm, in a sack on the back of the wagon. It rarely stopped moving at the elbow and it would bang against the wooden boards of flat bed or frame. Most of the day you couldn’t hear it because everything else was so noisy. Only at night and very early morning when no one was awake. Weaver hated that arm but she had won it, fair and square, so she was keeping it.

  ‘I’m never sure if it’s early mornings she dislikes, or me,’ Winstanley said to someone.

  ‘Almost certainly the latter, Gerry,’ a woman’s voice said.

  A woman’s voice was strange for two reasons. The first was because Weaver didn’t know that Winstanley knew any women. And the other reason was that Winstanley had just been referred to as Gerry.

  She peeled back one corner of her blanket and Winstanley was standing the other side of the cold fire, smiling with some women next to him.

  ‘Gerry?’ Weaver said still not moving. ‘Your name’s... Gerry?’

  ‘Weaver, I would like to introduce you to Susan,’ Winstanley said. ‘My wife.’

  Weaver sat up, rubbing her eyes. The woman with Winstanley had blonde hair, sort of tied back, and a flushed face. She was smiling and had friendly eyes.

  ‘I never knew you was married,’ Weaver said, yawning. ‘How’d you get someone to marry you, Winstanley? When did this happen? Why wasn’t I invited?’

  Winstanley’s face dropped. ‘I told you I was married,’ he said. ‘I’ve told all of you about my Susan. We’ve been married for years.’

  Weaver shrugged. ‘Don’t remember, sorry.’

  ‘I did tell the girl,’ Winstanley said.

  ‘It’s fine, dearest,’ Susan said, laughing.

  ‘Anyway, these are the young folk I have told you so much about. This is Weaver and next to her in that other pile of blankets is Archer. Upon the wagon is Burp, the dragon and his dear friend Keeper will be with him.’

  ‘Pass me that water, Winstanley?’ Weaver said. ‘I ain’t half parched.’

  Weaver pulled on her boots and coat and went for a wee while her other friends slept. When she got back, Susan was marvelling at Burp who was just waking up and stretching his crippled wings.

  ‘Remarkable,’ she was saying. ‘Truly remarkable.’

  ‘You get used to it,’ Weaver muttered but she knew that you didn’t, though. ‘What you even doing here, Susan?’

  ‘My dear husband sent word he was travelling with the army. I would not believe it for a while but he asked me to join him. Took me a week but I met the scouts yesterday and they brought me to my husband. I must say, I’ve never seen the like of this army on the march. Terrifying, isn’t it.’

  ‘What you doing here?’ she asked. ‘Cromwell hates Winstanley. Why did he even let you in?’

  ‘Lots of officers travel with their wives,’ Winstanley said. ‘I’m not an officer but I am respected. Not by Cromwell and his cronies but many of the officers and men are with me. So it was a small concession. Like my travelling garden.’

  ‘But why bother? What can you even you do?’ Weaver asked. ‘The army’s no place for women.’

  ‘Weaver,’ Archer said, awake now and already being boring and stuck-up before breakfast. ‘Don’t talk to people like that.’

  ‘What?’ Weaver objected to being judged by him.

  Winstanley looked annoyed, for some reason. Susan coughed and answered Weaver. ‘Well, I wanted to be with my husband, of course. He’s been away for a long time. He always needs my help with his work. And while I am here, I could perhaps get to know you and your friends.’

  ‘Thanks very much,’ Archer said. ‘That’s nice, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah!’ Keeper said stretching his back up on the wagon. Burp hissed.

  Weaver shrugged.

  ‘Susan’s going to join us this morning on our gathering of shoots and roots for the travelling garden,’ Winstanley said to Weaver. ‘We need to get some useful things growing.’

  ‘No, no, no. I’m going on a raid today,’ Weaver said. ‘I can’t go with you, Winstanley.’

  ‘Captain Smith is absolutely not taking you on a raid,’ Winstanley said. ‘You may be going for a ride. And what I am offering is a short walk into the woods over there on the top of that hill while the army breaks camp. It will be many hours yet before this army leaves. Captain Smith will not be scouting until later.’

  ‘Collecting plants is boring.’

  Susan spoke up. ‘I would argue that it depends on how you look at it. It will get you out of this awful camp for a while. You’ll feel the real earth out there in the woods. The mulch beneath your feet.’

  ‘Fine,’ Weaver said. ‘Just to shut you up going on about it all day.’

  She actually enjoyed collecting in the woods.

  Susan pointed out the shoots of the wild garlic and she took some for the soup she was going to make later. Those weedy little roots stank but Weaver liked pulling them up and shaking the wet dirt off. It felt like doing something real.

  The alder, elder and hawthorn were coming into bud with tiny bright green speckles all over. The hazel was sprouting new green shoots. As was the hornbeam and the whitebeam. Blackthorn was coming back to life on the drier ground. Winstanley pointed out a stand of grey willow in a hollow dip.

  ‘We’ll take some of the bark,’ Winstanley says. ‘If you boil it with water until it turns completely opaque and thick then it makes a good treatment for wounds. You paste it onto the damaged area before applying a bandage it helps to stop corruption from entering...’

  Hooves drummed on the earth beyond the trees and Winstanley trailed off, looking worried.

  Weaver knew that there would not be any of the King’s army nearby. The woodland was not far from the camp and the only horse troops nearby would belong to Cromwell’s. It sounded like just a single horse.

  ‘Captain Smith,’ Weaver cried and ran off towards the edge of the trees.

  The Captain pulled his horse to a stop, the horse’s hooves digging into the earth. ‘Here you are, Weaver. I have been looking for you. Are you ready to join my troop of horse for a spot of the old scouting?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Wonderful,’ Captain Smith cried. ‘Here, let me help you up here. You shall ride with me, remember. Just until you learn how to ride for yourself. And until then, I shall keep you safe.’

  She took his hand, he yanked her up over the saddle, and she settled behind him. He smelled of horses and gunpowder smoke and old sweat but it wasn’t that bad, really.

  ‘Just hold on tight to me,’ Smith said. ‘And whatever you do, don’t fight the movement of the horse. You shall get used to it in time.’ Smith wheeled his horse around.

  The feeling of the powerful beast beneath her was great. It was strange, how they let people ride around on the back of them. Almost as if they didn’t notice you were there.

  ‘Bye Winstanley,’ she shouted as he and his wife came blinking out of the trees. ‘Bye Susan.’

  Winstanley shouted something or other about her being careful but Smith trotted the horse away and she didn’t hear it properly. Same old thing, though. Be careful this, watch out for that. All that grown-ups did was worry, she knew.

  ‘What do I call you?’ Smith asked her over his shoulder.

  She was confused. ‘Weaver.’

  The Captain chuckled. ‘I meant what’s your first name?’

  ‘Don’t remember. The Alchemist called Bede took me prisoner in his tower for ages and made me do weaving and he called me Weaver. Only name I know.’

  ‘Oh,’ Captain Smith
said. ‘Terribly sorry.’

  ‘Why?’ She found his apology irritating.

  ‘Weaver it is, then. My men are waiting for us off to the north,’ Smith said over his shoulder. ‘There are some hills away over there beyond the horizon that we must clear.’

  ‘Clear with muskets?’ Weaver asked.

  She felt Smith laugh. ‘We will not fight today. The Cavaliers are still far away, cowering in their nests instead of marching to meet us. We horse troops must scout ahead of the army, ranging away for miles and miles. That way we can spot any enemy scouts and force them away from our army just by riding close to them. They do not want to start a fight with us.’

  ‘Why don’t you just shoot them?’

  ‘You are my kind of soldier, Weaver,’ Captain Smith said. ‘But why bother shooting at them? What are a few Cavaliers here and there? We need to smash thousands of them, in one big battle and completely destroy their desire to fight. No, all we need do is keep them from seeing our own army movements. Stop them seeing where we are going and how many men we have and where they are marching.’

  ‘Why does it matter? There’s only a few of them.’

  ‘The less their army knows about ours, the better it is for us when we fight. They will not be prepared, do you see? However, if we can see their army, if we can get to high ground and count them, note their positions, then we can tell Cromwell and the other generals and the battle would be already in our favour. Understand?’

  ‘Course I understand,’ Weaver said, though she only sort-of did.

  ‘Here are my men,’ Smith rode up to a group of about thirty men, some standing, others sitting on the ground, others already atop their horses. ‘My company. Also called a troop of horse and that is why we call them troopers. They’re the ugliest, meanest, nastiest men you shall ever meet in your life but every one of them is worth ten Cavaliers.’

  Some of the men smirked at that but Weaver thought Smith was right. They were ugly. Nothing like Smith at all. These men were dirty, unshaven and obviously hard and grim. Weaver wasn’t scared of anyone and she wasn’t scared of these men, not at all, not even one little bit but she could imagine some people might be. Keeper would be terrified of them, definitely.