by Martin Ash
We stopped in a sunny arcade where yellow roses twisted around old stone columns. A raven eyed us from atop a low, crumbling wall. At the base of the wall the old liver and white hound, Rogue, was stretched in the sun. I looked out towards the forest and crags shimmering in the afternoon heat. ‘Irnbold tells me that Moonblood goes alone into the woods sometimes.’
‘I was worried at first. I didn’t know where she was getting herself off to, and when I asked her she didn’t want to tell me. I told her that I would have to tell her mother, in that case, and that Lady Sheerquine might well confine her as a result. So she told me. She has a secret place she goes to. It’s not in the forest proper, it’s down over there, by the stream, just beyond the old castle wall. Even so, I didn’t like her going there on her own. But she said it was a magic place and that she was quite safe. She said Toromdar made sure no harm came to her.’
‘Toromdar?’
‘That’s the name of her giant, so she told me. I took no notice; there are no giants here. Mistress Moonblood gets carried away. Sits there dreaming all day long and comes back with a headful of fancies. Still, I had her show me this secret place, giant or no giant. I told Lady Sheerquine about it, though of course I made no mention of magic or giants.’
‘And Sheerquine allowed Moonblood to continue going there?’
‘As I say, it’s right close to the castle, and it’s quite safe. Lady Sheerquine saw no harm in the Mistress going there. She said if she forbade her, the Mistress might well prove rebellious and get herself into real trouble somewhere else.’
‘I’d like to see this secret place.’
‘I’ll take you if you like, sir.’
Chapter Fifteen
Marshilane led me from the castle buildings, beneath a long pergola over which green vines twisted in the sunlight. We emerged from its shade onto a pathway, and passed between tall hedges into an ornamental garden, poorly tended but bright with flowers and shrubs. Another path took us left through a vegetable garden, then we made our way along the edge of an orchard, through a rotting portal in the wall, and were beside a small river. Beyond was dense scrub, and then the forest and crags loomed, high pinnacles of tree-covered rock rearing in the near distance. I was convinced that I was about to discover where Moonblood had been when I’d seen her the previous evening, prior to the banquet.
It was hot and I’d begun to sweat. The heat made me more aware of the burns on my skin. Marshilane paused to mop her brow. ‘Not far now, sir.’
She pushed gamely on through thick bushes and tall grass. The way descended abruptly and grew steep. Marshilane scrambled down, heaving herself inelegantly over boulders, clinging to roots and branches, while I followed close behind. We stood at length in a secluded dappled dell.
It was quiet but for the sounds of nature: birdsong, the intermittent buzz of insects, the rustle of the wind in the trees and the sound of a waterfall which tumbled from above, splashing off ledges of rock to form a small, sunlit lagoon. Foxgloves, columbine, monk’s hood and a profusion of other wild flowers grew around the edges of the dell; bright red poppies and lady’s slipper on the higher banks. Butterflies and bees flew among them. Around the clearing, alders and green willows offered shade from the sun. It was a tranquil spot – touched by magic, one might have said.
With this in mind I attuned my senses to the ambience of the dell. I detected nothing unnatural, no sense of forces untoward. Rather, it was nature I sensed, a feeling of unsullied harmony and peacefulness.
But I was no fool, and did not consider myself infallible. I recognized that magic far more powerful than anything I might muster could yet have held sway in this place. The senses are vulnerable to deception, even without magical manipulation. The world my senses realized here could be very different to its actuality.
Marshilane rested with her buttocks against a mossy boulder, her plump cheeks flushed and perspiring as she regained her breath. She gestured widely with a pudgy arm. ‘You see, sir, there isn’t really anywhere she could go from here, apart from back the way she came.’
It appeared to be true. The dell seemed entirely cut off from the rest of the world. The bluff on the far side of the lagoon, down which the waterfall cascaded, was sheer and sometimes overhanging, quite impossible to climb. The slope down which we had come was steep and rocky and dense with scrub. It presented a discouraging prospect, apart from the path by which we had descended.
‘It’s perhaps possible to clamber up this side, into the trees there.’
‘And go where, sir? Into the forest? Mistress Moonblood wouldn’t go there on her own. She knows the dangers. And besides, you can see that the cliffs up there are impassable.’
I nodded. The crags rose abruptly like an immense protective rampart. ‘But if she met Toromdar here—‘
‘Oh, you don’t believe that about the giant, do you, sir? I mentioned that only as an illustration.’
‘You’re convinced she only imagined it?’
‘I think so. Don’t you?’
‘Perhaps.’
I scrambled up some rocks at the water’s edge in order that I might peer behind the waterfall. The cool spray was soothing on my skin, but I clung hard to my perch for fear of slipping and tumbling into the lagoon below. Deep water and I are not close friends.
Behind the waterfall the cliff was solid and unbroken; no concealed cave entrance. I took a long look around. It was not entirely inconceivable for Moonblood to have scaled the rocks on one side and gone further than this spot. But again it was plain that she could not have gone far. Furthermore, I could see that it was the dell that would have held the real attraction for her.
I jumped back down onto the grass. Marshilane had taken off her sandals and was bathing her feet in the cool water. I sat beside her on a slab of limestone, a little further back from the edge. ‘Are you aware of the Ravenscrag prophecy, Marshilane?’
‘Yes, sir. Everyone here is.’
‘It’s ancient, is it not?’
‘Oh, it goes far, far back, so I’m told. Nobody knows where it came from, but it’s been sacred to Ravenscrag for longer than anyone can say.’
‘And its terms were all but fulfilled, and then…’
‘It’s a bitter shame. The lord and lady, they don’t deserve this, not after waiting so long.’
I wondered whether Marshilane knew about the boiling of ‘witches’; whether there were other excesses of which I had yet to learn.
‘Do you know anything of a bane or curse associated with the prophecy?’
She looked at me with apprehension in her eyes. ‘I’ve heard nothing of that, sir. Why do you ask?’
‘Just speculation, Marshilane. I’m trying to find an explanation for this dark mystery. Think no more of it. Come, let’s return to the castle.’
I helped her back up the slope. As we made our way through the orchard and gardens I asked her to tell me about Linvon the Light.
‘That no-good rascal!’ Marshilane shook her head, though I noted she was smiling to herself and her voice was without rancour. In fact she spoke almost with affection.
‘He was taken with Moonblood, so I understand.’
‘And the Mistress was not indifferent to him!’
‘What was he like?’
‘Oh, charming, handsome, debonair. He captivated us all.’
‘Except Flarefist,’ I reminded her.
‘Oh, Lord Flarefist was taken with him at first, sir. So was Lady Sheerquine. Until they discovered he’d taken a shine to their daughter. Then it was a different story. Linvon’s just a young vagabond, sir. Not fit company for a lady.’
‘Did Moonblood see a lot of him?’
‘Can’t have been a great deal, I don’t think. But she was enchanted, I’d have to say. She talked about him a lot until she realized her parents disapproved. She’d told me he was teaching her magic.’
‘Linvon knows magic?’
‘Some conjuring tricks. He’d entertained us all with them. But I don’t see t
hat it was real magic. More sleight of hand, illusion, that sort of thing.’
‘How long was he at Ravenscrag?’
‘A matter of three weeks in all was all I saw. He’d been entertaining in the town before someone brought him to the castle.’
‘Who brought him to the castle?’
‘I don’t rightly know, sir.’
‘How did Moonblood react when Lord Flarefist had him ejected.’
‘She was miserable. Wouldn’t speak to anyone for some days.’
‘And after he’d gone, do you think they somehow continued to meet in secret?’
‘It occurred to me, sir.’ Marshilane gripped her lower lip with her teeth. She gave a little anguished sound. ‘Oh, I should’ve kept a better look out for her. Oh my, what can have become of her now?’
We had reached the castle. ‘Marshilane, have you touched Moonblood’s room since I was there earlier?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Then please do not. I shall want to look at it again more closely. If you can, ensure that no one else enters. Thank you for your help. Try not to dwell on what you fear may have happened. Nothing is certain, and we may yet find that your mistress is safe and well.’
Returning to my chambers I found Bris awaiting me with a reply from Cametta, inviting me to call upon her. Before going I had hoped to speak to Hectal, but I found no trace of him in the immediate castle precincts, nor was there any answer at his door when I knocked. No one I asked could enlighten me as to his whereabouts.
Brief enquiries of servants led me to Lord Flarefist and Lady Sheerquine in the arcade where I’d first spoken with Flarefist two days earlier. I approached them without formality. ‘I have reason to believe there exists a bane which may have been placed upon Ravenscrag. It’s in some way pertinent to the prophecy.’
Lady Sheerquine looked around sharply. ‘All conditions of the prophecy have been met. You saw that for yourself.’
‘That’s something I hope we can discuss at greater length in due course. For now I can only reiterate my misgivings over the prophecy as written. I’m not convinced that it’s intact. I implore you both, if you know anything of a bane or curse, or anything that in any way relates directly or indirectly, favourably or unfavourably, to the prophecy as you have shown it to me, tell me now. If I don’t have your complete honesty and cooperation I cannot continue with my investigations.’
Lady Sheerquine’s haughty look served to remind me that I had little choice; but Flarefist growled moodily, ‘You’ve been listening to that duplicitous star-gawker.’
‘Irnbold is anxious to prove to you his innocence of any involvement in this sad affair. To that end he has been most cooperative.’
‘He’s anxious to save his damned deceiving hide, you mean!’
‘I would not deny – and neither would he – that that is also true. Lord Flarefist, how can I impress this upon you? Your son has gone, now apparently your daughter too. You have offended your kinsmen and foreign nationals of high status. Troops from House Condark and probably elsewhere are on their way—‘
‘Bah!’ Flarefist rapped his stick on the floor. ‘You’re wrong, Bigbin. It is they who have offended me! And what do I care about their troops? I’ve already told you, they can do me no harm that has not already been done.’
I took a deep breath. ‘Ravenscrag seems set for sure disaster. You have appointed me to try to solve this mystery, against my own better judgement. I’ve done everything I can. I find myself following numerous tangled leads with no true sense of moving toward a satisfactory resolution. Now I believe the prophecy may hold a vital key. Again I implore you both, if there is anything, anything at all that you have not revealed to me, then speak now. Your own lives, the lives of your children and the future of Ravenscrag may depend on it.’
Flarefist shuffled his feet in agitation; his wife tautly raised her chin, her lips puckered, nostrils flaring. She stared at her husband until she caught his eye. I noted the look that passed between them. Flarefist, gaunt, his jaw trembling, seemed embarrassed and torn. Eventually he closed his moist grey eyes, sighed, and gave a nod. Lady Sheerquine looked down for a moment, one hand upon her breast, then said, ‘Come.’
We left the old man to the torment of his raging psyche. Lady Sheerquine took me into the castle, to a small chamber in their private apartments. ‘My husband is becoming overwrought. His mind will not stand more stress.’ She closed the door. ‘We can speak here without fear of being overheard.’
Considering the secret passage I’d found little more than an hour before, I wondered if this were true, but for now I said nothing.
‘There is supposedly a bane,’ said Sheerquine stiffly. She stood sidelong to me, facing into the room. ‘But it can’t apply in this case. It refers to what might happen should the conditions of the prophecy not be fully met. But, as we know, all conditions have been met, thus rendering it invalid.’
‘Nevertheless, I’d like to see this bane.’
‘You can’t. I don’t have it.’
‘Where is it?’
‘It was stolen.’
‘When?’
‘I don’t know… exactly.’
‘You have no idea?’
‘I kept it in my chamber. One day I discovered it was gone. I had not looked for many months. It could have been taken at any time.’
‘And you have no suspicions as to who might have taken it?’
She hesitated for just a moment, then, ‘None.’
‘What form does the bane take?’
‘It’s an inscription, on parchment.’
‘The same parchment as holds the prophecy?’
A flicker of disquiet upon her marble face. ‘It is.’
‘So the parchment was not separated to prevent deterioration. What was your reason for cutting it?’
‘There you are wrong, Master Dinbig. What I told you earlier was true. The lower half of the manuscript had deteriorated and was kept separately. I simply removed it from its shelf in the archives.’
‘Why?’
She glanced down at her hands. ‘So Flarefist might not see it.’
‘Lord Flarefist doesn’t know about it?’
‘He knows of it, of course. But the condition of his mind has been such in recent months that he has forgotten it. I’m concerned for him. It’s better that he isn’t reminded of the content of the bane. If he reads it there’s no telling how it might affect him.’
The thought came that we might all sleep easier in our beds if the shock of it struck him dead, but again I held my silence. ‘But he just gave his assent for you to talk to me.’
‘He thinks we are discussing the prophecy. Perhaps he has an inkling that there is something else, but his concentration span is limited. I think his mind will not permit him to recall that which he so desperately wants to keep at bay.’
‘Did you know of the secret passage between Moonblood’s chamber and the nursery?’
‘Of course not. I learned of it and of our daughter’s disappearance only minutes ago.’ Sheerquine stepped towards the window, gathering her thoughts. She took a deep breath, then spoke haltingly, her back to me. ‘I’m going to tell you things that are not generally known, which have never been recorded in written form. You are going to learn Ravenscrag’s secret, and you will disclose it to no one. Is that understood?’
‘Of course.’ I watched her, fascinated. She had not lost her composure. Her face was hidden but she remained statuesque, stoical, her emotion evident only by the slight tremor in her voice and a barely perceptible twitching of the head.
‘Tradition states that the bane was originally cast by Molgane, wife of Draremont, one of the first lords of Ravenscrag,’ Sheerquine told me. ‘Molgane was convicted of dire witchery. At that time no law banned the practice, for the magic of witches was considered to be, on the whole, benign. But Molgane had apparently been attracted by the allure of something darker. Over time she became powerful, and certainly not benign. Her deeds brought miser
y and conflict to the land and its people. She was therefore executed by her husband’s decree.’ Sheerquine paused, her head high. She turned to face me, her fingers linked in front of her. ‘In her death agonies Molgane is said to have screamed words of vengeance upon House Ravenscrag. No written records exist so her precise words can’t be known. But it’s said that she damned Ravenscrag for all time, stating that her spirit would haunt the place and that her kind would be ever present to ensure Ravenscrag’s eventual ruin.’
‘Did these events occur before or after the origin of the prophecy?’ I asked.
‘Listen without interruption, Master Dinbig, and perhaps you will learn.’ Lady Sheerquine arched her neck and lifted her shoulders. ‘Draremont passed a decree outlawing witchery. He fell to grieving for he had greatly loved his wife. He became withdrawn, suffering anguish day and night, and by degrees lost his mind. One morning he was discovered dead in his bed. It was said that his final expression was a mask of dread, as though at some unspeakably awful vision.
‘History is blurred and we do not know precisely the turn of events. But Molgan’s bane has become interwoven with the Ravenscrag prophecy. The bane is not spoken of, but to the few who know it is always a dark shadow lurking in the back of the mind. Yet it’s plain that the prophecy, being met in all its conditions, can’t be corrupted by the bane. Sardus, our former Master of Ledgers, spent a lifetime researching both prophecy and bane. He was convinced that it was so.’
‘How did Sardus die?’ I asked.
Lady Sheerquine replied with a disdainful smile. ‘He was old, Master Dinbig. Very old. That’s all. He caught a chill which turned to fever which he lacked the strength to fight. There are no suspicious circumstances.’
‘Then tell me what is the content of Molgane’s bane, as it is understood.’
‘That qualification is an important one, for the bane as it relates to the prophecy is cryptic and not easily interpreted. It speaks of Ravenscrag’s long decline then, as I said, appears to state a caveat in regard to the circumstances pertaining to the birth of the child who is destined to restore Ravenscrag’s fortunes.’ She closed her eyes:
