Jack of Ravens

by Mark Chadbourn

  ‘Only a matter of time. I will prevail … and so will England.’

  Amused, Don Alanzo pulled back a drape to reveal a lever. He pressed it down and the intricate network of wires rose above head-height. As one, the Spanish guards pointed their crossbows at Will.

  Don Alanzo held out a hand. ‘The box.’

  ‘Who told you we were here?’

  Don Alanzo waited patiently with hand outstretched.

  Will flung the box to Francis. ‘Quickly, away! I’ll hold them off.’

  Francis caught the box as Will threw himself into the line of crossbows. When the guards didn’t fire, Will looked around to see Francis smiling. He was holding out the box for Don Alanzo to take.

  ‘A traitor, then,’ Will said sadly. ‘I always gave you the benefit of the doubt, Francis. Remember that.’ His hand a blur, Will stabbed it towards Francis, propelling the knife that had popped from his sleeve. It embedded in Francis’s throat. His look of puzzlement gave way to a frantic gurgling as arterial blood arced across the room. And remember I saved you a trip to the Tower.’

  Don Alanzo looked down on Francis’s twitching final moments and said simply, ‘No loss.’ He turned back to Will with a cruel smile. ‘Your own death will not be so quick—’

  His words were cut short by a distant high-pitched squeaking, drawing closer, and a rattle that was rapidly transforming into a loud drumming.

  Will drew his sword while Don Alanzo’s attention was turned to the door. It burst open a moment later and an undulating wave of rats rushed across the floor. The guards were attacked by the snapping, shrieking army that swarmed up their legs and into their clothes, tearing at flesh, aiming at eyes, fingers and groins.

  Don Alanzo lurched away from the flood, thrusting the back of his hand to his mouth in horror.

  Will flexed his rapier and prepared to duel. ‘You must feel quite at home, Don Alanzo.’

  Don Alanzo launched a surprise thrust that almost caught Will unawares. ‘The Devil is with you,’ he said.

  Will pinched his nose. ‘Your hypocrisy is rank.’

  As Will advanced, Don Alanzo flicked his rapier above his head. A scythe swept down silently. Will saw it from the corner of his eye and ducked at the last moment, but felt his hair stir in the blade’s passing.

  ‘Let us dance, then,’ he said, all humour now gone.

  Don Alanzo and Will launched into a furious duel, thrusting and parrying as they whirled gracefully around the room. With every strike, one or other of them would whisk their rapier up to slice a wire. The scythes swung back and forth in a lethal rhythm, forcing wilder and more athletic steps from Will and Don Alanzo so there was barely time to breathe.

  Amidst the cacophonous chaos of attacking rats, clashing swords and swinging scythes, Will registered three people entering the room: the doll-masked woman he had rescued by the canal, a man in a wolf’s-head and another in a dragon mask who wielded a sword limned with a faint blue light. Another figure hovered behind them, unrecognisable in the shadows.

  Don Alanzo’s blade nicked Will’s ear: first blood. He could not afford to let his attention wander again, but then he glimpsed something that puzzled him: as Don Alanzo dodged Will’s attack, the sway of his hair revealed what appeared to be a large black spider nestling at the nape of his neck.

  They continued their equally matched duel for another minute before there was a flash of activity and Will glimpsed the white, grinning face of the figure behind the strangers, which Will was forced to believe was a mask even though its nightmarish qualities were startlingly lifelike. The figure tumbled with breathtaking agility, dodging guards, rats, blades and scythes with ease. With a flourish, he snatched the Anubis Box that Don Alanzo had been clutching to his chest, and with a bound he was at the door and out, his three comrades following rapidly.

  Don Alanzo forced Will onto his back foot and then sprinted away in pursuit. Will in turn ran for the window. Wrapped around his waist was a rope with a hook attached to one end. He hoped it would be strong – and long – enough.

  5

  Church led the others out of the Palazzo Ducale into the swarming Piazza San Marco where Niamh waited. Tom took the Anubis Box from Jerzy and gave it a perfunctory examination as they lost themselves in the crowd.

  ‘Is that what you saw?’ Church asked.

  Tom nodded. ‘It’s vital to the enemy.’

  ‘But you don’t know why?’

  ‘Am I expected to do everything around here?’ Tom snapped. ‘Let someone else shoulder the weight for a change.’

  Since joining the group, Tom’s fractious nature had managed to put both Lucia and Jerzy on edge, but the Rhymer’s gift of prophecy more than made up for his personality flaws. For the first time Church felt they had gained a little parity with the Army of the Ten Billion Spiders.

  ‘Come,’ said Lucia. ‘I grow weary and would rest. Controlling the vermin in such large numbers is exhausting.’

  They headed away from the crowded piazza into the deserted adjoining streets.

  ‘The boat is waiting,’ Niamh said, ‘and then perhaps you will discover whether it was worth risking your lives for this box.’

  ‘We’ll investigate its merit when we’ve got time,’ Church said.

  ‘Perhaps a look inside would help,’ Niamh noted tartly.

  ‘I would not advise that, my lady.’ Will stepped from the shadows, the tip of his rapier moving fluidly to Church’s throat. ‘Mine, I think.’ He took the Anubis Box.

  The sound of running feet drew nearer. Don Alanzo and three guards were pushing their way through the crowd. Will backed away slowly, preparing to run.

  ‘You saved my life,’ Lucia interjected. ‘Let me now save yours.’ Will eyed her suspiciously. ‘We have a boat—’

  ‘Why should I trust you? Anyone who desires this box cannot be wholly pure of heart.’

  ‘We have to get it out of the hands of our enemies,’ Church said.

  ‘An Englishman?’ Will was surprised by Church’s accent. ‘Then you stand against Philip of Spain.’ He thought rapidly before nodding. ‘Lay on. But the box remains with me, and my sword will make sharp argument with any who disagree.’

  6

  Rowing hard, they reached their vessel moored out in the lagoon ahead of Don Alanzo and his men, and set sail immediately. Will exuded an air of extreme confidence and bonhomie, but Church could tell it masked the steely nature of someone who never let down their guard.

  After introductions had been made, Jerzy and Tom set about the steering and navigation with an inordinate amount of bickering that drove Church and Will below deck to find peace.

  Lounging in a hammock with one leg trailing, Will observed Church with a wry eye. ‘It was you who removed the guards from the entrance to the Palazzo Ducale,’ he said.

  ‘Lucia. She has skill with certain potions and brews.’

  ‘And she can deliver them with unerring aim, for who could refuse that one.’ Will grinned. ‘So you thought you would let my men do all the hard work and then step in at the last to take the box.’

  ‘That’s about the size of it.’

  ‘Bravo. A man after my own heart. Then I will ask, who are you and why do you want my box? You spoke of thwarting the enemy, but you are not in the queen’s employ, unless I am very mistaken.’

  ‘You are opposed to King Philip of Spain, who wants Elizabeth removed from the throne and England returned to the fold of Catholicism.’ Church knew it was a period of great intrigue that had started when Henry VIII had turned his back on Rome and formed of the Church of England. ‘My enemy is greater than that.’

  Will was puzzled. ‘France?’

  ‘Greater than any country. My enemy controls kings and queens. They attempted to control Rome many years ago. They may well now be controlling Philip of Spain.’

  ‘To what end?’

  Church chose his words carefully. ‘Power that crosses all borders.’

  Will nodded. He could understand this. ‘I
am a good judge and you seem like a man of character. I would ask, then, why I have not heard of this enemy, for it is my business to be the queen’s eyes across the world.’

  ‘A spy,’ Church noted. Will said nothing. ‘The enemy operates in the shadows … the best way to control. They are the Army of the Ten Billion Spiders—’

  Church expected Will to mock, but the spy grew intrigued. ‘Spiders? That is their totem? I saw what appeared to be a spider on Don Alanzo’s neck, here.’ He tapped his nape.

  ‘That’s how they control people. I don’t know how it works, but once the spider has been attached, the person does exactly what the Enemy wants but still appears perfectly normal on the surface.’

  Will considered this, but didn’t dismiss it out of hand. ‘And how did you know my men and I were here this eve to steal the box? Do you spy upon the spies, or was it happenstance – one of God’s games?’

  Church told Will of Tom’s glimpse of the future. He laughed. ‘The dour one is the hero of the Scots? Why, he would cut his own foot off if you gave him a sword! You spin a strange tale, Master Churchill. I may not wholly believe you, but then I consort with a man who speaks with angels and uses the elixir vitae to change base metal into gold.’

  ‘And how did you find out about the box?’

  ‘Why, from that self-same friend of angels – Doctor John Dee. You have heard of him, of course.’

  Church knew Dee had been a controversial figure with a reputation as a black magician and astrologer to Queen Elizabeth I. But Church guessed Will’s association with the man was due to Dee’s work as one of England’s senior spies, who always signed his communiqués ‘007’. In between spy missions and magic, he had invented ciphers, introduced the English-speaking world to Euclidean geometry and developed state-of-the-art navigational techniques. But Church was sure that by this year he had fallen on hard times.

  ‘Isn’t he out of favour with the court?’ Church asked.

  ‘He is out of favour with the God-fearing men and women of England who have increasingly taken it upon themselves to hang many a black magician or witch, or those they perceive as such, without recourse to the magistrate. Nor is he in favour with the Archbishop of Canterbury, who keeps an eye out for God in this world,’ Will added sarcastically. ‘Dee now spends his time abroad, in the employ of rich men, desperately seeking his fortune.’

  ‘But he still carries out the queen’s work?’

  Will smiled. ‘Dee received word of the box from I know not where. And I was dispatched to retrieve it for England. I am to return it to Dee.’

  ‘And Dee says it contains a plague?’

  ‘Dee says. Only Dee would know.’

  ‘Then we’d better ask him, hadn’t we?’ Church said. ‘Where is he?’

  7

  In the distance, the Carpathian Mountains soared up, black and threatening. In contrast, Krakow stood beautiful and cultured beneath a cloudless night sky lit by a crescent moon. It was a good time to be in the thriving metropolis, which was experiencing a golden age at the centre of a prosperous kingdom that stretched from the Black Sea to the Baltic.

  Grand gothic buildings loomed over Church and Tom as they waited for Will in the twisting streets at the heart of the medieval town centre.

  ‘This is an amazing place.’ Church examined the architecture, which appeared more alive than in the carefully preserved modern context in which he had previously encountered the city. ‘You’ve got people travelling here from all over Europe to experience the culture, education and religion and then taking what they’ve learned back with them. Can’t you feel something special in the air?’

  Tom grunted non-committally. He still ached from the long journey in the coach that Will had commissioned.

  On reflection, Church realised he was sensing more than just the rarefied atmosphere of the city. ‘The Blue Fire is here,’ he noted. ‘I can feel it the same way I did at Boskawen-Un and in Italy.’

  ‘Of course,’ Tom said superciliously. ‘You may know a great deal with your hindsight on the history of the world, but clearly you do not know everything. Legend has it that a dragon with fiery breath was roused from his slumbers in the caverns beneath where the castle stands. King Krak, who tamed the dragon, founded the city here.’

  ‘A metaphor.’

  Tom snorted. ‘You think the Blue Fire is a big secret known only to such wise and adept personages as yourself. The truth about it, and the places where it is strongest, is written large in the old stories. If you are clever enough to know where to look.’

  ‘Do you think that’s why Dee came here?’

  ‘I think he is a powerful and knowledgeable man who has, perhaps, been using the energy unconsciously.’

  Every now and then Church glimpsed a hidden store of knowledge in Tom, secrets and mysteries that made his agenda difficult to read.

  ‘You must have learned a great deal while you were in the Court of the Yearning Heart,’ Church said.

  ‘She encouraged me to learn.’ Tom’s tone suggested dark depths that Church could not fathom.

  ‘Not a wholly enjoyable experience, then?’

  ‘Under the queen’s orders I was dissected down to the smallest part of me and then put back together, complete with my new abilities.’ The horror of his experiences shadowed his face. ‘My torment is beyond imagination.’

  ‘The Tuatha Dé Danann are arrogant and cruel, but I’ve never known them—’

  Tom rounded on Church with blazing eyes. ‘Then you have never been to the Court of the Final Word! The gods have a secret agenda.’

  ‘Even Niamh?’

  ‘All of them. Behind their contempt, they fear us. They will lead us on with smiles and promises of heart’s desire, or from simple mischief, but their sole aim is to destroy us.’

  Church couldn’t tell whether Tom was speaking the truth or if it was just the bitterness of his experience.

  ‘Most humans are secure in their blind ignorance,’ Tom spat, ‘happy to believe they have reached the summit of God’s mountain, when in truth they are mice in a vicious universe filled with predators waiting to pounce at every turn.’

  There were tears in his eyes, of anger or despair, Church couldn’t tell. Will chose that moment to hurry up to them, and Tom looked away.

  ‘Dee has agreed to see you,’ Will said. ‘You have ignited his curiosity, Master Churchill.’

  ‘Are you coming?’ Church asked Tom.

  ‘I will await your return.’

  As Will led Church into the winding maze of streets, Church glanced back to see Tom standing lonely and forlorn, a hero of legend disguised as a broken man.

  8

  Even at that late hour, Rynek Glowny, the city’s sprawling Grand Square, was alive with men and women taking the air. The ten-acre plaza, the largest in Europe, was beautiful, with tall trees framing the gothic Basilica of the Virgin Mary and the leaning tower of the town hall gleaming like silver in the moonlight. The mood was intensely peaceful. They passed the town hall and headed to the corner of Jagiellonska and Sw. Anny, where the Jagiellonian University stood.

  ‘Dee is a master deceiver,’ Will noted, his tone respectful. ‘He spends his days performing magic tricks in the street for money while secretly performing his own work in a room provided for him in one of Europe’s most prestigious centres of learning.’

  Dee’s room lay on the second floor of the Collegium Maius, the oldest of the university’s colleges. It overlooked a large courtyard surrounded by arcades, with a well at the centre. The room itself was a treasure trove of magical artefacts, crumbling leather-bound books, phials and flasks. A brass telescope stood at the open window, while skulls and bones, powders and liquids, parchments and maps cluttered every available space on walls, tables, desks and chairs.

  Dee stood poring over a volume, his thin frame and grey skin turning him into one of the relics that filled his quarters. He wore threadbare purple robes and a matching pill hat. His wild, white beard added to the image of ecc
entricity, but behind his small spectacles his eyes were sharply incisive.

  ‘Is this the one of whom you spoke?’ Dee came over, never once taking his eyes from Church’s face. He took Church’s hand in his bony fingers. ‘Show me the sword.’

  It took a moment for Church to register what Dee was asking, and then he pulled Llyrwyn partway from its scabbard. The Blue Fire flickered brightly along the exposed blade, responding to the city’s potent atmosphere.

  ‘In the secret knowledge of the adepts there is talk of a great hero who carries a sword like this. He has many names – Jack the Giantkiller, the King Beyond the Water … He always appears at the darkest hour of England’s history to fight for right, before once again disappearing into the mists.’ Dee searched Church’s face. ‘Are you this hero?’

  ‘Never believe legends. You’ll only be disappointed.’

  Dee smiled and gently patted the back of Church’s hand. Lounging in a large wooden chair, Will looked bemused. ‘A great hero? You hide your light under a bushel, Master Churchill.’

  ‘Enough of your banter, young Swyfte,’ Dee said. ‘You are like a bird, always chittering and chattering.’ Dee swept a pile of papers off a table to reveal the Anubis Box, and set a candle nearby. ‘So small and insignificant, yet it has the power to destroy us all.’

  ‘Does it really contain a plague?’ Church asked.

  Dee harrumphed and glanced at Will, who was now peeling an apple with his knife. ‘That was for the benefit of Master Swyfte and his men so they would not be tempted to look inside.’

  ‘I am cut to the heart,’ Will said flatly. ‘Such a lack of trust from one of my own comrades.’

  ‘What is inside it, then?’ Church moved closer. In the still air of the room, he thought he could feel a deep cold radiating from the box.

  ‘I do not know,’ Dee said.

  ‘Then how—’

  ‘The angels told him,’ Will said wryly.

  Dee flapped an irritated hand at Will. ‘There is no point in discussing esoteric matters with a knave immersed so fully in the pleasures of the flesh. But you …’He motioned to Church. ‘You understand the power of the Azure Flame and the force it represents that joins all things, living and inanimate, known and unknown.’ He did not wait for an answer. ‘And you know that there are higher powers that live in that force. You know them. You have seen them.’