Wings over Water (A King's Watch Story Book 2)

by Mark Hayden

  A jerk on the arm. ‘Oww. Careful.’

  ‘Conrad, quick.’ A breathless Woody pulled me again, and I rolled with it and let her broad shoulders pull me up.

  Nimue was back, her left arm no longer dripping. At the foot of the rock, the diminutive form of Madeleine was staring up at her.

  This version of Maddy was older than the other one, closer to her real age when she died, and her figure was slightly more rounded, but she was more infinitely more beautiful because she was alive and fizzing with anger.

  ‘No more,’ she said. ‘You gave your word, my lady. No more to go unwillingly into the water.’

  Nimue danced on her glittering column. ‘Did I? It’s so easy to forget, especially here.’ She stilled herself. ‘Especially when Hans, Kurt and Willi were sent unwillingly to me. I’m just following Lady Brampton’s lead.’

  ‘And she will go, as she must. But not the little one. Remember my sacrifice. I gave you my life for my daughter’s. There can be an end, my lady, if you show the same grace.’

  By Odin’s eye, so that’s why Maddy and water go together: she drowned herself to save her daughter. That answered one of my questions, even if it raised a boatload more, the most obvious being, if she drowned in Windermere, how did her Spirit end up in a tree at Lunar Hall?

  That question was for later. Right now, all eyes (including Xhaliyaha’s) were on Nimue.

  She wavered a little, as if blown by a breeze, and more violets wafted across the grass. She looked up at the stars. ‘I remember you, Madeleine, and I remember your sacrifice. You have given me shape again in this place, and for that I thank you. Eleanor Brampton can live, if she promises to make amends. Xhaliyaha, bring her to me.’

  I scanned the crowd. The three Luftwaffe boys were keeping their distance, well away from the altar. Two of them were still holding Patience. Xhaliyaha ordered his men to bring Eleanor forward.

  ‘You will plant a grove in this place,’ said Nimue,’ and bring my children to it that they may make offerings, and so it will be until you join me underneath. That is the price for your freedom.’

  Eleanor bowed her head. ‘I will serve you properly, as I did not before. You have my word until death and beyond.’

  ‘So mote it be,’ said Nimue. She ran a critical eye over Woody. ‘You are a seer and a guide. You may be of service.’

  Woody looked very worried and blurted out, ‘My lady.’

  The nymph turned to her guardians and spoke in their language before pointing to the German boys. The guardians looked at each other. Instead of putting their hands up, three of them volunteered by touching their thumbs to their chests. One did so quickly, one slowly, and the third after a word from Xhaliyaha. They all looked happy, whatever it was they’d signed up for. They planted their spears in the ground and walked towards an even more worried Woody.

  ‘Hans, Kurt and Willi will join my guard,’ said Nimue to Woody, ‘and you will lead these three away across the field to their last rest. Xhaliyaha will help you return to what lies above when you are done.’ It was my turn next. ‘We will meet again, Watch Captain. Guard the realm well.’

  The higher up the Spirit chain you are, the shorter are the goodbyes. Nimue spread her arms, spoke three words in Mesolithic and dissolved back into the water.

  As she did so, the altar dimmed and so did Maddy, losing the bloom of life. She reached her hand towards me. ‘Conny, I …’

  She, too, dispersed, flowing back into the willow wand that had been flung across the grass. I stepped over and scooped it into the Egyptian tube. Behind me, things moved quickly.

  ‘Patience!’ said Eleanor, moving towards her grandmother. Xhaliyaha put out his arm to block Eleanor’s path, and the Luftwaffe boys led her grandmother towards the lake, now glowing brighter than ever. She looked over her shoulder once before they disappeared, and gave her granddaughter a sad nod.

  Xhaliyaha took Eleanor’s arm, gently but firmly, and pulled her to me. ‘Join hands,’ he said. ‘All hands. And do not let go.’

  We put our four hands together and gripped. He moved a few fingers until he was satisfied. ‘Close eyes. Deep breath. Deeper. Now go.’

  Our arms were yanked upwards, a violent wrench that lasted for a second until I felt water around me again and the weight was taken off a little. I kept my eyes firmly closed and my lips sealed against the freezing chill that shocked me. A few seconds later, I heard a gargled scream and Eleanor pulled against my grip.

  I opened my eyes and saw panic. Shapes moved around us, and Eleanor had lost it. I had only one option: hold tighter and think about the surface. She bucked and fought, trying to get away, and bubbles escaped her mouth. I pulled her in, closer to me, and she kicked my bad leg. I spasmed and nearly let go.

  With a kick up the backside, we flopped onto wet grass under a black sky. I coughed out water and Eleanor started to choke. I let go of her hands and went into resuscitation mode.

  Eleanor was lucky. Again. There wasn’t enough water in her lungs to stop her breathing, and I quickly put her in the recovery position. ‘Don’t move,’ I said. As she groaned and coughed again, I realised that the rain had eased a little. With no moon, it was still pretty black out in the field.

  I squatted next to Eleanor and scanned the area. A few bits of metal glinted on the grass. There were a lot of magickal and twenty-first century artefacts scattered around. I tried to add my Sight to the search, and felt the powerful signature of my sword, the Anvil, nearby. It was a start. I stood up, groaned and grabbed the Anvil. I stumbled across the field, trying to get my circulation going again, and retrieved an LED lantern and torch from the gazebo. Armed with some light, I went back to Eleanor and started collecting stuff, scanning around for Woody. How long does it take to exorcise Mesolithic ghosts, I wonder?

  Eleanor was breathing more easily, and now at risk of hypothermia. ‘Come on, let’s get you under cover. I’ll help you up.’

  She staggered a little, and I supported her arm until she nodded and said, ‘Thanks. I think I can make it now.’

  I left the lantern in the field and escorted Eleanor to shelter. She slumped into a chair and rubbed her face with her hands. Her hair was soaked, plastered to her head in rats tails. I grabbed a beanie for my own poor denuded bonce and gave her a towel. I broke into the third flask and poured us both some hot coffee. I unzipped a waterproof pocket in my coat and pulled out a dry pack of cigarettes. ‘Smoke?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Did Patience really sacrifice those boys, do you think?’

  She nodded mutely.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She was trying to make a link between our ground level and the altar below. She didn’t know about the Storegga slide or the tsunami. She didn’t realise that Nimue was damaged here. Now I know why she was so keen to sacrifice herself in remission.’ She shook her head. ‘I always knew that the story going round the village had some truth in it, and Patience told me that they were too injured for medical help. I was too keen to believe her.’

  ‘And what did you do to upset Nimue?’

  ‘Did you notice a trailer in the layby down the road?’

  ‘The low loader with the huge piece of rock on it?’

  ‘Yes. I was going to put it in here as a new altar. I’d already started the rituals when the guardian showed up, but that’s not what upset our lady. I was using a ritual that would have bound me to the altar as priestess. Nimue likes to choose her own acolytes.’

  ‘Why did you sponsor the dig? You must have known that the altar was way too deep to come to the surface.’

  ‘I think I know,’ said Woody. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  ‘Bloody hell, where did you spring from? Are you okay?’

  She pointed to the road. ‘That way. I’m fine, but I need some coffee.’

  I poured and she inhaled the aroma before taking a gulp. ‘Boy that’s good. Mmm.’ She closed her eyes for a second. ‘Where did you hear about me, Eleanor?’

  ‘Patience told m
e about the Peculier Necromancer. Your predecessor came here in the 1950s. Patience had to work quickly to cover her tracks, but she did a good job. My grandmother was ten times the Mage I am or ever will be. Once I knew there was such a thing as the Peculier Necromancer, it wasn’t difficult to find out who you were and set things up.’

  This didn’t make sense to me, and I said so.

  ‘She lured me here,’ said Woody. ‘She got the archaeologists on site so that I’d have to take an official interest, and once I was here, she knew I’d open a window. She and Patience planned to jump through.’

  ‘We weren’t expecting there to be so many,’ said Eleanor. ‘I only saw the leader, not the whole crew. Neither did we expect someone with such a close bond to Nimue to be here or to have her essence on his person.’ She gave me a grim smile.

  ‘See?’ I said to Woody. ‘I’m not just the weapon of last resort. And do you know what the best thing about tonight is?’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I don’t have to write the report. I just have to call the Boss on Sunday.’

  ‘Sunday?’

  I checked my watch. It was well after one in the morning. ‘It’s now Shabbos. I’m only allowed to disturb her if lives are at stake. Time to wrap things up and go to bed, I think.’

  ‘You’re not joking,’ said Woody. ‘What needs doing?’

  I gave Woody her phone, her keys and a small leather box. ‘Did you lose anything else?’

  ‘No. That’s all.’

  ‘Have you got far to walk?’ I said to Eleanor.

  ‘It’s alright. I can drive.’

  ‘Not without a car, you can’t. You can collect your little number from RAF Shawbury on Monday. I’ll leave your sword in the boot and your keys at reception.’

  Woody snorted into her coffee. Eleanor looked outraged, but bit her lip.

  ‘You conspired to use an officer of the crown for your own ends,’ I told her. ‘Count yourself lucky I’m not arresting you. You don’t want me to arrest her, do you Lieutenant Woodhouse?’

  ‘Tempting, but no. Nimue’s dispensed enough justice for one day.’

  ‘Good. Here you go.’ I gave Eleanor her phone. ‘You can message the archaeologists and tell them to backfill their holes when they pack up and leave later today. You can call a taxi, too, if you want.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ll call my boyfriend. He can be here in half an hour.’ She attempted a smile. ‘I’ll use the time to reflect.’ She looked up. ‘Thank you, Watch Captain. I hate you for what you did, but I’ll be grateful for ever that you saved me from being sacrificed.’

  ‘Don’t thank me, thank Madeleine.’

  She lowered her eyes. ‘I do. Please tell her. If she remembers.’

  I started packing things away. When I’d finished, Woody joined me as I went to retrieve the lantern. ‘What made you change your mind?’ she said.

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About saving Eleanor. You were going to leave her.’

  ‘The thirteenth spirit.’

  She did some calculations. ‘There were only twelve, unless you’re counting Nimue.’

  ‘I’m not. You didn’t see him, but he was there. Here’s your room key back.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m too tired to swap rooms. I’ll see you for breakfast. They stop serving at ten.’

  ‘Then I’ll see you at five to. Goodnight, Conrad. Sleep well.’

  8 — A Day of Rest

  Timing is everything, in breakfast as much as in life. We arrived in the bar at the right moment to get all the leftovers, and our Full English plates were heaped higher than an American at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Woody and I dived in and didn’t surface until our plates were clean.

  ‘You’re dying to take that coffee outside for a smoke, aren’t you?’ she said. She followed up this insight with a rather loud and most un-officer like belch.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll join you. Not for a ciggie, but I need to stand up before I burst.’

  It was still drizzling outside, and I took refuge in the covered smoking shelter round the back.

  ‘Eleanor got home safely,’ said Woody. ‘I know you’ll be pleased to hear that.’

  I took a few seconds to think about. ‘Actually, I am. I’d hate to think she did something stupid after getting a second chance that I risked my life for.’

  ‘Thought so. You’re all heart, Conrad. I’m seeing her this afternoon, just to tie up some loose ends and make a few plans. And to get something in writing.’

  ‘Do you need me?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ll email you the draft report when I’m done. Are you going straight back?’

  ‘To what? A single room in Shawbury? It’s too far to Cheltenham, and I don’t think I’m fit for a long journey today. I thought I’d have a drive round. It’s lovely here. Might work my way up to Scarborough and stay there tonight.’

  ‘Sounds good. Any word from Mina?’

  ‘Only a Whatsapp. She’s on her way to see her father’s family. Says she’ll talk when she gets there.’

  ‘You’re welcome to drop in on us if you’re ever in Cambridge.’

  ‘Ditto for Gloucestershire. And I’ve got something for you.’ I passed her a folded piece of paper with a mobile number on it. ‘Do you remember the story of the Thirteenth Witch?’

  ‘I still can’t believe you said no to Helen of Troy.’

  ‘It was tough. I hope I don’t meet her again. That’s the telephone number of an Artificer in Brighton. He was – is – Abbi’s biological father, and he’s gay. He’ll take a bit of persuading, but he’s had one Mage child by donor.’

  She looked appalled and touched in equal measure. ‘I can’t just call him up.’

  ‘Yes you can. If you really want it, you’ll find a way.’

  She stared at the paper before folding it carefully and putting it in her bag. She leaned up and gave me a kiss. ‘Thanks, Conrad. Consider yourself invited to the Naming Ceremony, if there is one.’

  ‘It would be an honour and a pleasure.’

  She shivered and looked north, towards Draxholt. We both took a moment to reflect on last night, then she patted her handbag, gave me a smile and walked back towards the warmth of the pub.

  Conrad’s Story continues in the Books of the King’s Watch, all available from Amazon.

  Author’s Note

  Wings over Water came from a suggestion by Ian Sherry (formerly of the Heavy Artillery) that not enough stories are set in the remarkably beautiful but little known part of Yorkshire that lies east of York. That seed was planted in the fertile soil of our ancient history and watered by some of the tales my father told me about his wartime service as a Navigator on Lancaster bombers.

  I’m afraid that you won’t be able to visit Nimue’s shrine at Draxholt (invitation only), but you can definitely explore the discoveries at Star Carr, and there is plenty of information around about the Storegga Slide tsunami and its impact. Some things you can’t make up, and the Daily Mail did indeed call the Slide “The first Brexit”.

  This novella was a detour from Conrad’s main story, as told in the Books of the King’s Watch, and I hope you enjoyed it. If you haven’t done so, please give some thought to joining the Merlyn’s Tower Irregulars through the Paw Press website or by liking Mark Hayden Author’s page on Facebook.

  As ever, thanks are due to the brilliant Rachel Lawston for designing the cover and to Anne for reading the first draft.

  Finally, Phantom Stag is a lonely little story. Please cheer it up by writing a review on Amazon, Goodreads or anywhere. It makes a huge difference.

  Until the next time,

  Mark Hayden.

 

 

 
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