> The Book of Beasts
>
> Chapter Three: The King in the Cellar
>
> In which desired things are searched for and lost things are found.
>
>
> At sundown the bustle of Thane Edric’s manor died down. The focus of attention became the communal meal in the great hall, where thirty or more of the Thane’s household sat along three trestles to receive their meat. Moranna joined the other kitchen women in serving slices of pork cut from the carcase that turned on a spit at the end of the room.
>
> The Thane spoke in welcome about his new guests, and Artos raised a toast to Mistress Annwyn. The meal was good and the hall full, but there was a subdued tone about the proceedings, perhaps in defence to the bereaved guests, perhaps because the new soldiers had not yet become familiar comrades at board.
>
> The evening turned to night and the trestles were cleared away to make way for bedrolls and blankets. Valden saw his sister safe to the room she’d been given up on the balcony that ran along one wall of the hall. The chamber was tiny, smaller even that the space she’d had under the eaves of Jethro’s cottage, but it was a sign of the Thane’s care for her that she did not have to sleep in the hall with the commoners. She noted with appreciation the sturdy bolt on the inside of the sleeping chamber and slid it shut as soon as Valden had departed.
>
> Valden returned to the main hall where the soldiers and servants were staking out places to sleep. He’d have preferred to take his roll and bed down out under the stars, away from the sounds and odours of a score of unwashed retainers, but he needed to be inside the mansion for later. He found a place that wasn’t too draughty, shielded from the wind by the fat blacksmith, and lay still.
>
> It was the first moment of peace – of relative peace given the coughings and shufflings of his fellow hallmates – since his world had turned upside down. It was his first moment to absorb all of what had happened in the last few days.
>
> Jethro was dead. Valden found his eyes pricking with tears. He hadn’t realised how important it was for his father to be there, even if ‘there’ was far away, until he was gone.
>
> Valden lay in the dark, his ranger-honed senses alert, his conscious mind dredging up every memory he could of Jethro the scholar: his father’s calm, understanding voice; his hands, so quick to mend and heal; his stories from tomes long since forgotten by most of the world; the look in his eyes when he had described the mother who had died bringing Valden into the world.
>
> Eventually the sounds of the hall changed from snufflings and shufflings to snores and wheezes. The light through the slats around the walls diminished as clouds blocked the waxing moon. Valden waited.
>
> When he judged the night was full he slid from his bedroll and strapped on his weapons. He took up his quiver and strung his bow, slinging it across his chest to carry it without occupying his hands.
>
> His eyes were long accustomed to moving in darkness. He picked his way as carefully as he could over the sleeping guards, seeking the stair that would lead him up to the gallery and Annwyn. The unfamiliar layout betrayed him, and his foot fell on outstretched fingers.
>
> Somebody swore. “Pee over there, damn you!†the sleeper growled, before turning over again.
>
> Valden moved more slowly and carefully still, and finally picked his way to the stairs.
>
> The light was better up here, the walkway illuminated by slatted vents which allowed a glimmer of faded moonlight. The ranger padded silently along the gallery, sticking to the shadows so he couldn’t be seen from below.
>
> He was almost at Annwyn’s door when he realised there was somebody else on the gallery with him. The other man was trying to move stealthily too, but with little grace. As Valden watched the dark figure stopped at Annwyn’s door.
>
> “Yes?†Valden asked, touching the prick of his dagger to Artos’ throat.
>
> Artos Thaneson froze, his sword-hand filled not with a weapon but with a wineskin.
>
> “You’re lost in your own hall,†Valden told the Thane’s heir. “Your bed lies that way.â€Â
>
> Artos’ lips curled into a hate-filled snarl. He spoke no word but shoved Valden aside and strode back towards his own room.
>
> Valden waited until he heard Artos’ door slam and his bolt hammer home. Only then did he quietly tap on Annwyn’s door. “Winnie?â€Â
>
> Annwyn opened the door and gestured him inside.
>
> ***
>
> The cramped room was lit by a single stub of candle. The cot and floor were littered with the scrolls that Moranna had rescued from Jethro’s kitchen.
>
> “You should have checked it was me,†Valden chided his sister. “You very nearly had a different visitor.â€Â
>
> “Nobody else calls me by that annoying nickname,†Annwyn replied. “Now pay attention. I’ve been looking through the things father had hidden in his secret store.†She pointed to the parchment and vellum sheets. “These are magics,†she announced.
>
> Valden wasn’t too excited. He’d never had the knack for the calculations his father had tried to teach him. It was Annwyn who had mastered the hidden lore which manipulated the levers of the universe.
>
> “Scrolls can hold mystic power, magic captured in words,†she explained. “Each of these, if I read it – if I read it right – will allow me to cast one of father’s spells. Some of them are superior to anything I can craft on my own.†She pointed to the closely-calligraphied documents. “A spell of magic darts,†she said. “Another to hurl lightnings. This to slow an enemy. This to enmesh an enemy in sticky spider’s web. And this last one to undo magics another has already laid.â€Â
>
> “Could be useful,†Valden admitted. “You can use them, right?â€Â
>
> “Almost certainly,†bristled Annwyn. “The other things he’d hidden are important too.†She held up the jars and flasks from the treasure horde. “These, labelled superbenificus are from that last vat of healing medicine that father brewed from that trollsblood which Tybold brought. The other, polymorphus, is to change someone’s shape, I think.â€Â
>
> “You think?â€Â
>
> “Maybe it would be best to leave that one till I’ve checked it a little more.â€Â
>
> “What about the bag of moonstones?†Valden asked. “Are they magic?â€Â
>
> Annwyn shook her head. “Not that I can tell,†she admitted. “Then again, I’ve hardly even started studying arcane things. I might be missing something.†She held up the dried grass that had attracted her attention back at Jethro’s study. “But this is special. I think it’s moly.â€Â
>
> Valden wracked his brains for his father’s stories. “The herb,†he recalled. “Odysseus used it against the witch Circe on the island of Aea. Its virtue is that magic fails around it.â€Â
>
> Annwyn nodded enthusiastically. “It’s old, but it still has some power. These things are our inheritance, Valden. We need to use them to find out what’s happening around us. What really happened to father, what Truro and Londis were seeking, who sent those undead creatures at us.â€Â
>
> Valden remembered the six special arrows in his quiver. “No idea what these do, I suppose?†he checked.
>
> “Not without access to father’s books back at the cottage, and maybe a few days study time. There’s a spell I know that could tell me, but it weakens me for a while afterwards and requires the sacrifice of a precious pearl – and I only have one of those. I’d prefer to save that for another day.â€Â
>
> Valden concurred. He listened at the door then peered out into the gallery. “It’s time we went and looked at the cellar,†he declared. “You’re still insisting on coming?â€Â
>
> “I’m looking there to find out what the Thane’s hiding,†Annwyn confirmed. “I’m letting you tag along with me.â€Â
>
> Valden sighed. “I’d better fetch Moranna then.â€Â
>
> ***
>
> Valden was trained to move without trace amongst the deep forest, leaving few tracks, making no sound as he passed between the trees. He was rapidly concluding that manors were a different terrain. He hastily caught the pile of pans before they clattered to the ground, but there was still a scraping sound that woke some of the sleepers around the kitchen hearth.
>
> “Who’s there?†demanded the cook, harshly.
>
> Moranna rose from the straw. “It’s all right,†she assured the kitchen-maids. “It’s for me.â€Â
>
> She stepped over the scullions as they whispered comments and advice about her liason with the young man. “If you can’t be good be careful,†the cook called after her.
>
> “What was that all about?†Valden asked as Moranna dragged him away by the front of his tunic.
>
> “They think we’re creeping away for a cuddle,†the tinker’s girl explained with a cheeky grin. “It’s as good an alibi as we’ll get.â€Â
>
> “But, your reputation…†objected Valden, blushing.
>
> Moranna was the same age as the young ranger but she lived in a different world. “The best reputation I can have here is that there’s somebody trained with sword and bow who’s taking care of me,†she advised him. “That way nobody else will want to try.â€Â
>
> The youngsters had made their way back to where Annwyn was waiting. “What’s going on?†Valden’s sister asked.
>
> “We were just discussing scullery affairs,†Moranna answered. “I think they probably don’t cover that in ranger school.â€Â
>
> They moved carefully along the hall to the doorway to the cellar stair. Moranna held the others back. “There’s a guard on the door,†she warned. “He’s alert.â€Â
>
> Annwyn reached into a pouch at her hip and pulled out a handful of powdery sand. “I can deal with that,†she promised. “Sonambulus.†She blew the sand off her palm in the direction of the soldier. He gently slid down the wall into a deep enduring sleep.
>
> Valden and Moranna looked at Annwyn in surprise. “What?†she asked, “You don’t think I was paying attention when I helped father with his work?â€Â
>
> “I knew you could do minor miracles,†Valden admitted, “but that was high sorcery, wasn’t it?â€Â
>
> “Middle, maybe,†Annwyn confessed. “But white magic. Pretty white. No more than off-grey. You don’t need to burn me at the stake yet. Besides, I can only cram two sorceries into my head at once. That’s half my high magics gone right there.â€Â
>
> “Maybe we can discuss this after the job?†Moranna suggested tartly.
>
> Beyond the door was an antechamber. To the left were the steward’s quarters. To the right was the stair down to the cellar depths. Moranna closed the door on the slumbering guard and led the way into the antechamber, shifting quickly and quietly. It occurred to Annwyn that the tinker girl was not new to this.
>
> Her speculation was interrupted as the steward’s door opened. A shaft of light washed across the flagstones. Moranna grabbed Annwyn and Valden and pressed them to the corner where the shadows were deepest. Valden reached for his dagger but Annwyn caught his wrist. Wikkold was only doing his job.
>
> “Who’s there?†the steward demanded. He’d evidently heard some sound, maybe of the soldier slumping to the ground. “Speak up! Guard?â€Â
>
> He’d see them any moment. He only had to advance two paces forward with the oil dish he was carrying.
>
> The door from the hall opened again.
>
> Richard Thaneson stepped through. He saw Annwyn and the others immediately. “It’s only me, Wikkold. I was just doing the rounds.â€Â
>
> “Master Richard,†bowed the steward. “Of course. Well, then.â€Â
>
> “Good night, Wikkold,†Richard bade him. “I’m sorry I disturbed you.†He watched as the steward retreated back to his chamber then turned his questioning gaze on Annwyn.
>
> “Um, hello,†Annwyn said, trying to smile as if this was a perfectly normal meeting, as if she wandered halls every night trying to break into other people’s cellars.
>
> “We can explain,†Valden promised, before realising that he probably couldn’t.
>
> “I’m glad about that,†Richard answered. “I was thinking that you were sneaking into our cellars to find out why my father had mysteriously begun to guard them, possibly because you suspect him of ill-doing in the matter of Jethro’s death and the affair of Truro and Londis.â€Â
>
> “How silly,†Annwyn blushed. “As if.â€Â
>
> Moranna was the closest to the cellar door. Somehow it had become unlocked. She slid something thin and metal back into her hair. “We can’t talk here,†she whispered to them all. “We’ll disturb Wikkold. It’ll be quieter down here.â€Â
>
> Richard looked from Moranna to Valden to Annwyn and sighed. Then he followed them down the steps into the cellar.
>
> ***
>
> Richard Thaneson had grown in the last year too, Annwyn observed. The gawky ungainly lad of her own age had filled out and muscled up, no doubt because of the rigours of his squire training to aid his older brother. He wore a doublet of excellent quality that was slightly worn and patched. Like everything he had it was a hand-me-down from Artus. Richard’s tragedy was to be second son of an estate which was not large enough to divide.
>
> He stood in the centre of the cellar, folded his arms, and regarded his one-time playmates by the light of Annwyn’s candle. “Is there any chance you’ll tell me what’s going on?†he asked in the tones of one who’d thought he’d gone beyond being dragged into mischief by old friends.
>
> “He deserves to know,†Valden said to Annwyn. “He could have given us away just now.â€Â
>
> “He still could,†Moranna warned. She had every reason to distrust young lordlings.
>
> “I just want to know what’s happening,†Richard insisted. “Things have been strange here ever since the snows melted. Father’s been preoccupied. Something’s wrong and I have to do something about it.â€Â
>
> Valden smiled. Same old Richard, blundering headlong into whatever trouble there was. He’d be wasted if his terrible fear came true and his father forced him into the church.
>
> Annwyn took control of the conversation and briefly and accurately described the situation they were in. Richard heard her story of undead beasts, of treacherous escorts, even of the substituted book in the mansion treasury, without any comment.
>
> “Now are you going to turn us in?†Moranna wondered.
>
> “Or,†suggested Annwyn, “you could come with us and see what’s behind the secret panel over there?â€Â
>
> “Am I going to regret this?†Richard asked.
>
> “Probably,†admitted Valden. “So are you in?â€Â
>
> Richard sighed again and clasped Valden’s wrist.
>
> Moranna raised her eyebrows at Annwyn but went over to find the mechanism that pivoted aside a rack of small beer. It didn’t take her long to find the trick of it. She knew what to look for.
>
> A four-foot high doorway led into a narrow passage carved from the rock beneath the mansion.
>
> “It’s a safe place,†Richard explained. “A last hiding hole in case of invasion. I knew we had one, just not exactly where.â€Â
>
> “So you’ve never been in here?†Valden checked. “I’ll go first. Then Richard, then Moranna and Annwyn.†He touched a short torch to Annwyn’s candle to light the oil-stained rag wrapped at its end.
>
> “Try not to die,†advised Moranna.
>
> The roof of the tunnel was low but dry. The explorers had to bow their heads to avoid injury.
>
> Valden paused and knelt to examine the floor. “Bloodstains,†he noted. “Fresh, too. Last day or so. And look.†He held up a dead beetle and a withered spider. “Dozens of dead insects along this corridor. I don’t understand that.â€Â
>
> “Poison?†suggested Annwyn. “Some kind of trap for rats? I don’t see any down here.â€Â
>
> Valden pressed on. Only fifteen feet or so along the tunnel split like a letter T, with doors at either end of the short corridor. Valden gestured for Annwyn to keep watch the way they’d come and for Moranna to keep an eye on the door behind them. He and Richard crept up to the door on the right.
>
> Annwyn pointed to chalked words etched on the door. “Cave canem,†she read. “Beware of the dog.â€Â
>
> The ranger pressed his ear to the wood. Something was moving in there. He pressed his finger to his lips to warn his companions to be silent. He drew his sword and edged the door open a fraction to peer inside.
>
> The room was in darkness. Things padded about in the gloom. Valden hurled his torch inside.
>
> In an instant the room was picked out by the blaze of the flame. A crude rectangle some eight yards square, the chamber was devoid of furnishings, even of straw on the floor. What it did have were three huge war-dogs, brutish guard beasts padding about vigilant for intruders. The fact their flesh had withered and even that some of their bones were showing did not prevent them from walking around on duty.
>
> The young adventurers recoiled back from the undead creatures. But the dogs did not pounce.
>
> “Back away,†ordered Annwyn. “Don’t do into the room.â€Â
>
> “What are those?†demanded Richard. “How came they into our cellar?â€Â
>
> “They’re animated corpses,†Annwyn replied. “There’s a necromancy that does that. We’ve seen it before, with the wolf. The land shark would have required something rather more powerful.â€Â
>
> “They’ve not attacking us,†Moranna observed, her voice a little shrill. “Not that I’m complaining, but why aren’t they attacking?â€Â
>
> “These things have no thought of their own,†Annwyn replied. “They can understand simple orders only. ‘Guard this room and attack all who enter save me’, for example. But we haven’t entered the room, so they’re not attacking.â€Â
>
> “So we could destroy them from a distance?†speculated Valden, thinking of his bow.
>
> “Once we attack, they’ll fight us,†Annwyn warned. “But if we leave them alone and don’t enter we’ll be safe.â€Â
>
> “There’s another door leads from that vault,†noted Moranna. “Whatever they’re set to protect lies behind it.â€Â
>
> “But they are dead!†objected Richard disbelievingly. It was one thing to hear Annwyn’s story, another to find such things in the cellars of his father’s manor. “How may the dead be killed?â€Â
>
> “A sharp blow to sever the spine,†lectured Valden, speaking from first-hand experience. “That’s where the necromancies of animation reside. Sunder them and the beast truly dies.â€Â
>
> Annwyn wondered if her faith was strong enough to repel these undead as the ranger-chaplain Tarvil had sundered the shadows.
>
> “Do they burn?†speculated Moranna. “Only there’s quite a supply of lamp-oil back in the storage cellars.â€Â
>
> When the explorers attacked at last it was with method and planning. Annwyn held forth her crucifix and attempted to make the undead flee. When they ignored her the others moved to the fore. First they each hurled pots of oil, trying to coat the beasts with flammable liquid. As the undead beasts reacted to attack and closed to fight Moranna tossed in a burning brand to ignite the oil. Valden and Richard stood side by side and held the doorway so that only two of the monsters could attack at once.
>
> Richard winced as one of the beasts closed its jaw on the padded surcoat around his forearm, but punched back with the pommel of his sword and managed to shake the creature free. Valden came in low with sword and dagger, fighting with an economy of movement, making every flick and slash count.
>
> Moranna tried to help, tossing bullets from a homemade sling, but every one of her shots skittered uselessly against the opposite wall.
>
> The first of the undead fell and the other dog moved into take its place. This one had burned, and its charred jaws were shrivelled with flame and decay. It still managed to lock its teeth into Richard’s leg to drag him forward into the room. Valden made a desperate lunge that jammed his longsword down the throat of the beast he was still grappling with. He felt his blade slice through something glutinous and rotten and his foe went limp. He shook his sword free and went to aid Richard.
>
> Annwyn was there before him. She leaned forward and touched the Thane’s son with a prayer for healing. The bloody wound on Richard’s thigh closed as it he had never been harmed.
>
> With Valden behind it and Richard before it the last of the undead dogs did not last long. A sudden quiet came upon the cramped low chamber, punctuated only by the crackling of the torch that Valden had hurled in there and the panting of the combatants.
>
> “I recognise these animals,†Richard confessed as he rested his hands on his knees. “I thought they had run away.â€Â
>
> Moranna returned from up the passageway with more pots of oil. “Just in case,†she said, always maintaining a wary eye on the way out.
>
> Richard was eyeing Annwyn curiously. “In the battle there… I thought for a moment that you laid your hand upon me,†he noted. “And that with a word of prayer you closed a wound I bore.â€Â
>
> Annwyn shrugged. “Thank God, then.â€Â
>
> “God and the messenger,†Richard bowed. “Thank you.†He seemed a little in awe of Annwyn.
>
> Valden was pressing up against the inner door. “There’s no sound in here,†he reported. “But it’s locked. We’ll have to force it.â€Â
>
> “Not necessarily,†admitted Morenna. “I, um, might be able to convince it to open.†She reached for her lockpicks again and made short work of the expensive lock. She turned to see them all looking at her. “Your father taught you spells,†she said to Annwyn defensively. “My dad taught me what he knew.â€Â
>
> Valden gestured for the others to move back and eased the door open a crack. The two dead men waiting in the corners lurched forward like puppets intent on doing him harm.
>
> “Begone!†shouted Annwyn, stepping forward holding her crucifix before her. This time she could feel it, the faith welling up inside her, pressing the undead away. They seemed pushed back as if by a tide, floundering and uncertain, pinned to the back of the small carved-out chamber they protected.
>
> Moranna hastily distributed the oil to Richard and Valden. While the creatures were held by Annwyn’s prayer it was easy enough to soak their rags with the stuff.
>
> “I know these men,†Richard said with a sick voice. “We thought them fled, weeks since.â€Â
>
> “Evidently not,†said Valden darkly. The implications of these men being here, like this, were very bad; and especially for Richard Thaneson.
>
> Richard must have drawn conclusions too. “My father wouldn’t be part of this,†he denied.
>
> The burning men made a foul smell, but were easy to lay to rest. All the same, everybody was pale and unhappy by the time the gristly work was done.
>
> “We must report this,†Richard insisted. “We must get help.â€Â
>
> “Who do we report this to?†challenged Annwyn. “The Thane? His steward? Who can we trust to help us in this?â€Â
>
> Valden moved to the stout chest the dead men had guarded. “Don’t,†called Moranna. “Let me look at it first.†She examined the box and slid her knife along a surface. A bright needle sprang from a concealed place and pricked at no-one. There was a lurid sheen about the substance that coated it.
>
> When Moranna retreated Valden very carefully raised the lid. Inside the box was a book wrapped in cloth, of similar dimensions to the Thane’s family bible. Valden lifted it out and passed it to his sister. “Just take it for now,†he advised.
>
> “Always check the loot off the premises,†Moranna approved.
>
> ***
>
> They returned and considered the other door. This too had a chalk inscription upon it: cave regnum. “Beware of the… king?†puzzled Annwyn.
>
> Valden listened at the thick wood but heard nothing. He eased the door open and held a torch into the chamber.
>
> The room was of similar size and shape to the one with the dogs. A low irregular roof was clear of cobwebs. Straw was scattered across the floor but was blackened and gooey. A bowl of grain was laid out in the corner, but it was stained red as if it had been covered not with milk but with blood. There was a foul stench of rotting poultry, the source of the bloodstains.
>
> But the first thing that caught the eye as Valden looked into the room were the four statues, each a perfect representation of a human being. They were of some dark stone, and their expressions had been carved into masks of surprise and horror. Unusually, the statues were clothed in real cloth.
>
> Valden shot a puzzled glance at his sister for guidance. She shrugged, still hugging the rescued tome, still trying to piece things together.
>
> “Those men and women,†choked Richard, his voice scarcely a whisper, “they have the semblance of our retainers that vanished. Who would carve them so?â€Â
>
> “I don’t like this,†the ranger said. “Wait here while I look more closely.†There was another door from the chamber, mirror to the one along the other branch of the passage. He moved cautiously towards it.
>
> The creature in the room was small, no more than a couple of feet long. It was feathered but had reptilian feet and a strangely-discoloured wattle. It ran on two legs like a chicken but had vestigial arms that ended in forked talons.
>
> And it was fast.
>
> Suddenly everything clicked together for Annwyn: the poisoned insects, the poisoned straw, the strangely-lifelike statues. “Valden!†she warned, “Don’t let it touch you!â€Â
>
> Valden nodded, leaping aside as the feathered animal came at him. He kicked the door shut to keep it from his sister and the others and rolled aside.
>
> “What is it?†shouted Moranna. “What’s going on?â€Â
>
> “That thing is a cockatryce,†Annwyn cried. “The poisonous king of reptiles, called by some basiliskos. It’s born a midnight at the dark of the moon from an egg unnaturally laid by a cock, and grows from a worm into a creature that kills all it comes near. It’s very presence is poison, and its touch petrifies the flesh. At least that’s what the ancients wrote. And Valden is in there with it!â€Â
>
> Richard stepped forward, but Annwyn stopped him before he could open the door. “Valden is in there with it,†she repeated, but this time not in anguish but with a desperate hope.
>
> Inside the chamber the cockatryce flew at Valden with an infuriated squawk. Valden batted it away with his blade and looked retreated again. Yet in this confined space it was only a matter of time before the beast cornered him.
>
> He looked at the statues. A heavily-bearded warrior stated back at him with blind stone eyes. The statue’s arm was missing, chipped away when it had been carried to this cellar by the new men the Thane had hired at Conisborough market, men who knew to ask no questions and pocket the gold. But right now all Valden minded about what that the statue was tall. He shinned up it, climbing higher than the cockatryce could reach without taking a run up for a short frantic flight.
>
> Valden wrapped his legs around the statue’s neck, hunkering low as his own head scraped the rough roof. It wasn’t the ideal position to unsling his bow and try a shot, but then again it might be the last chance he got.
>
> The first arrow missed, shattering on the ground. The cockatryce took a wild flying leap at him but he managed to kick it away with his boot. It never touched his flesh. The second shot winged the creature, preventing it from flying.
>
> After that it was just a matter of time before his arrows brought it down. It fell oozing black blood that melted the straw and the stones beneath it.
>
> “You can come in,†Valden called the others. “It’s dead.â€Â
>
> Richard looked around the room in puzzlement, wondering at the statues. But he had another question. “Then where is this monster?â€Â
>
> The cockatryce had gone.
>
> ***
>
> There was a last room, and the lock yielded to Moranna. This chamber was of the same small proportions as the one that had held the missing book, but this vault had no additional protection; the cockatryce had been considered enough. There was only a crude stone altar with a horned skull atop it, and one final statue.
>
> “Father!†gasped Annwyn, recognising Jethro at once. It suddenly occurred to her that they only had the Thane’s and Winnold’s words that it was her father who had been torn apart by the wolf – if wolf it had been. Certainly some body was interred in Jethro’s grave; but Jethro was here, his flesh transformed by the malice of the cockatryce.
>
> “Can you fix this?†Valden demanded. “Annwyn, that scroll which undoes magic? Or the moly herb?â€Â
>
> “Neither would work here,†the scholar’s daughter mourned. “The magic has been and done its work and gone. Reversal of this transmutation is a powerful spell in its own right, and far beyond anything even our father could have wrought.â€Â
>
> “I understand none of this!†complained Richard, a little panicky as his life unravelled before his eyes. “How came Jethro here, and thus? Where did that cockatryce come from? What part does my father play in this?†He seemed close to tears.
>
> “And what’s that spooky thing?†added Moranna, pointing to the altar.
>
> The skull was horned like a demon and a black candle burned atop it, melting wax down onto the crude blood-stained stone beneath. Annwyn’s lips curled back as she discerned the evil radiating from the array. “This is foul sorcery,†she replied. “And see…†she pointed to a bloody rune like the one on the amulet that Valden had taken from the wolf.
>
> “Then let it be destroyed!†announced Richard, drawing his sword. But he did not strike. The weapon trembled in his hand.
>
> Valden turned his blade towards the skull, but he too found himself unable to harm it.
>
> “Uh oh,†breathed Moranna.
>
> A sinister lassitude fell upon the young men, drawing their will from them, binding them to obedience.
>
> Annwyn unstoppered the phial of water she’d taken from the font at St Brigit’s and hurled the contents at the altar. Then she brought her staff down to shatter the skull into fragments.
>
> The compulsion went from Valden and Richard. They helped grind the altar into rubble.
>
> “Jethro came looking for this,†Annwyn concluded. “This altar, this monster, these dark things. But his investigations miscarried.â€Â
>
> “Unlike the other statues he has not been moved,†agreed Valden. “Winnie, we have to find a way to restore him. We thought him dead, but he’s not. Just enchanted!â€Â
>
> “My father could not have known of this evil,†stammered Richard. “Or if he did he set guard so that no-one could come to harm, while he sought the counsel of the church.â€Â
>
> “Somebody fed the cockatryce,†pointed out Valden. “Somebody moved those other petrified victims to concealment down here with it.â€Â
>
> “Where is it, anyhow?†worried Annwyn. “I can’t see its corpse.â€Â
>
> Moranna help up a hand for silence and cocked her head. “There’s shouting above,†she warned them. “Someone has called alarum.â€Â
>
> “Time to get out of here,†decided Valden. “Now.â€Â
>
> “What are they shouting?†asked Annwyn as they hurried back to the storage cellar.
>
> Once they got there they could hear more plainly; a shrill, unhappy cry from the hall above. “The Thane! Thane Edris! The Thane is dead!â€Â
>
> ***
>
> Copyright © 2008 reserved by Ian Watson. The right of Ian Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. |
>
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