Spook's: The Dark Army (The Starblade Chronicles) (21 page)

When Alice called out, her voice was high-pitched and strident. At first I thought she was screaming, but there was something elemental about it – like wind keening over rocks or the shriek of a storm.

Then there came an answer. The Earth screamed – a thin piercing sound, higher but in harmony with Alice’s cry. It was a sound that could make ears and noses bleed and burst blood vessels in eyes. I covered my ears, but my horse reared up in terror, forcing me to hang onto the reins to stop it bolting.

Now, between Alice and the Kobalos army, the Earth growled and hissed in anger, venting gouts of steam from where it had been imprisoned beneath the rock. Suddenly there was an eruption of fire, fierce orange flickering tongues of it, as rocks and earth were hurled skywards in explosion after explosion. Beneath me, some distance from the Fissure, the Earth shook and roared out in fury.

Suddenly I remembered one thing Alice had said to me, and I gasped in horror: she’d said
I might not survive this.

We’d only just been reunited and, terrified of losing her, I dragged my horse forward until we were level with her. What I saw was appalling and heart-wrenching.

Blood was streaming from her nose and eyes; it was running in thin streams down her face and dripping onto her pointy shoes. Her face was twisted in torment, her mouth wide open in what looked like a scream. If she was indeed screaming, it was impossible to hear because of the tumultuous eruptions all around us.

I could do nothing to help. All I could do was hope that it ended soon.

The eruptions lasted no more than a minute or so. Afterwards it was hard to estimate how many of the Kobalos and their creatures had died in that inferno. When it began, they had not advanced far into that area of devastation. The vast bulk of their army was untouched. But it had halted their pursuit of our infantry.

Alice had saved the lives of many of our soldiers: they would be able to escape the Kobalos and cross the river.

Now she lowered her arms, turned and staggered towards me. I just managed to reach her before she fell. Her breathing was rapid and she looked utterly weary. I wiped the blood off her face with the sleeve of my gown.

Grimalkin had once told me that it was possible for a witch to expend so much of her energy that she died. I feared for Alice, but with a trembling hand she pointed to the horse and I helped her into the saddle before clambering up in front of her. She wrapped her arms around my waist and buried her face against my shoulder.

I wondered if she had the strength to hold on, so I rode on at a slow trot.

As I crossed the river ford, I saw that Grimalkin was already waiting on the far bank. Most of the army was already retreating south towards Prince Stanislaw’s castle, but she had waited for us and had already erected our tent.

I could see no sign of Jenny and my heart sank into my boots. I feared the worst and hardly dared to ask Grimalkin about her.

‘What about Jenny – is she all right?’

She nodded. ‘Yes she has gone back to the castle with the others. She wanted to wait here, but I forbade it.’

I quickly told her what had happened, and she eased Alice down from the saddle and carried her inside.

‘Are we safe here?’ I asked as Grimalkin stretched her out carefully on a blanket.

‘We are safe for now. After all that has happened, the Kobalos will not cross until they have built up an overwhelming force, and that will take some time,’ she said. ‘I prefer to work on Alice here.’

I watched anxiously as the witch assassin ministered to Alice, muttering spells into her left ear, and using ointments and herbs – the latter taken from Alice’s own pouch. I waited anxiously, but Alice was unconscious.

‘She will not die, but her chances of a full recovery are in the balance,’ Grimalkin explained once her work was done. ‘A witch can draw upon too much of her magic, using her last reserves, until the very essence of her being is drawn forth too. And to some extent that is what Alice has done. She was already hurt by the poison from the vartek.’

So we kept vigil beside Alice, awaiting the outcome of Grimalkin’s efforts to save her. She woke briefly the following day and looked up at me. We stared at each other for a long time without speaking but she kept squeezing my left hand.

‘I thought I was going to lose you again,’ I said softly.

Alice smiled. ‘Thanks for waiting for me, Tom. Thanks for staying beside me. The pain was terrible but you gave me strength just by being there. I told you to go because I didn’t want you in danger. But the biggest part of me wanted you to stay. Had I died there the last thing I’d have seen would’ve been you. That gave me comfort.’

‘I couldn’t have left you, Alice. I won’t ever leave you again.’

‘There’ll be no need, Tom. There may be good reasons for us to be separated physically, but in our hearts we’ll be together always now, whatever happens. I can promise you that. Ain’t ever going to go off and leave you again.’

Later, Alice was able to eat a little soup and by the third day she was feeling much better, though was still too weak to stand, and slept most of the time.

From time to time I thought of Jenny alone back at the castle and wished that Grimalkin had not sent her there. But I could do nothing about it.

The snow had stopped for now and the wind had veered to the south. Soon it became warmer, and the snow and ice began to melt. It was almost as if Golgoth had retreated after what Alice had done.

At last a Kobalos patrol came to the riverbank and stared at us but did not cross. They made camp, and soon their fires had covered the river with a brown haze.

We had achieved next to nothing. Grimalkin had failed to steal Kobalos magic and our warriors had died for nothing. Yet, but for Alice, it could have been a lot worse.

Wrapped in our blankets, Grimalkin and I sat in the opening of the tent, gazing back across the river towards them. I could hear the distant screeching of varteki and the cries of other things that were not human.

‘Do you think they’ll wait until spring to begin their offensive?’ I asked. That was what most armies did.

Grimalkin shook her head. ‘They are creatures of the winter cold,’ she said. ‘Snow and ice will not hinder them. As I said, it is a question of numbers. When enough Kobalos and their battle-entities are in position, they will attack. We must prepare to defend ourselves.’

‘Could we repel such a superior force?’ I asked.

‘We can hinder them and slow their progress. As we fall back deeper into the territory of the southern nations, their soldiers will come to our aid. They will have no choice because the Kobalos will be on their soil.’

‘The Starblade protected me against the magic of Lenklewth,’ I told her, explaining again how I had fought and defeated him. ‘But it did more than that. You told me it couldn’t break and that it would always be sharp. Well, it certainly didn’t break and actually seemed sharper than ever. It sliced right through the mage’s armour.’

Grimalkin smiled. ‘That is good to hear. The armour of a Kobalos High Mage has no equal. I think the Starblade is growing in strength. That is another of the features I built into it. The blade will absorb from you what you are and what you are becoming. If you are weak and full of doubt, the power of the sword will diminish. You have certainly been weak and lacking in confidence since your return from death, but you are putting that behind you. You believed that you could defeat the mage, and it drew upon that self-belief and became a more formidable weapon.’

‘You almost make it sound as if the sword is alive!’ I said with a grin.

Grimalkin’s expression remained serious. ‘The longer you wear and use the Starblade, the closer it will be to you. It will draw upon your essence and personality. In time it will become an extension of your own self.’

Suddenly my thoughts turned to the future. ‘I still intend to return to the County,’ I told the witch assassin.

‘If that is your choice, you are free to do so, but I would rather you stayed.’

‘I need to go. Back in the County I’ll regain my strength and I’ll be able to train my apprentice properly. What about the prince though? Won’t he try to keep me here as a figurehead for his army?’

‘I will tell him that you have urgent business back in the County, but that you will return in the spring.’

‘I will. I’ll keep my word. I’ll be back here as soon as the weather turns.’

‘That will be too late,’ said Grimalkin. ‘By then these kingdoms will have been overrun. The battle will be far to the south. But the lie will suffice to keep him happy for now.’

The following morning Alice was fit to ride so we travelled to the castle of Prince Stanislaw. The mild weather was holding; it was still possible to travel back to the County. So I decided that a couple of days’ rest would do no harm.

I wanted to be sure that Alice was fully restored to health before we left.

I WAS WALKING
up the path that led back to the Spook’s house, carrying the sack of provisions I’d bought in the village. It was growing dark and I was late. My master wouldn’t be best pleased.

Then I noticed a movement under the trees to my left and saw a girl coming slowly towards the path. She made no sound as she approached. She could almost have been floating. I came to a halt and looked at her. She was very pretty, with high cheekbones, long black hair and large brown eyes. She came right up to me.

‘Don’t you know me, Tom? Don’t you remember who I am?’

I felt sure I’d seen her somewhere before, but my head was befuddled and I couldn’t bring her name to my lips.

I noticed that her shoes were very pointy. My master had once told me something about such shoes – some kind of warning – but I couldn’t remember what it was. The girl’s black dress was tied at the waist with white string.

She saw me staring at her waist and smiled, then untied the string and held it out to me.

‘What’s this for?’ I asked in puzzlement. ‘What do you want me to do with it . . .?’

Then I woke up and stared at the ceiling for a long time. I remembered the retreat from the Kobalos and how Alice had kissed me. She’d said that she loved me. Had she really meant it? Or was it simply that she thought she was going to die and wanted to say a proper goodbye? But later she’d said our hearts would always be together even if we were separated by distance.

Was it really possible that we could be together? Could we eventually live as a couple at Chipenden? I hardly dared to hope.

‘If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be trapped here for the winter,’ Jenny complained with a frown, gazing out of the turret window at the ground far below.

The army camp was now a sea of mud, but a cold wind was blowing from the north again and on the horizon the sun was sinking into clouds that threatened snow. I was beginning to see the cold as an enemy. I wondered if the advancing cold really was being directed by Golgoth. That’s what Grimalkin believed.

Jenny voiced her worries about being trapped at least three times a day. I tried not to let it irritate me. After all, I was a spook and she was my apprentice. It was my duty to be patient. And I couldn’t really blame her. We were both wrapped in sheepskin jackets despite the fire in the grate. The castle was chilly and full of draughts.

We’d stayed here almost a week, twice as long as I’d originally intended. But Alice had now made a full recovery and I could set off for home with a less troubled mind.

We certainly couldn’t delay any longer. There was a double threat: a full-scale Kobalos attack and the snow. Either one might trap us here.

‘Cheer up!’ I told Jenny. ‘Try smiling at the world. It might just smile back!’

She did her best, but her smile was forced.

‘Look, we’ll set off for home tomorrow before noon. How does that sound?’

‘You really mean it?’ she asked, her eyes brightening with hope.

‘Yes. We need to get away before the serious snow arrives.’

Just then the door opened and I saw a pair of pointy shoes stepping into the room. Instantly the smile fled from Jenny’s face, for it was Alice.

I glanced from Jenny to Alice and back again. My apprentice was a pretty girl without a doubt. She had a warm bright smile and her mousy hair seemed to change with the light, glinting red in the sun. Her eyes were her best feature: the left one was blue, the right one brown. Sometimes they twinkled with merriment and mischief; occasionally they seemed sad and soulful; and very rarely – I’d glimpsed it just once or twice – her gaze became very old and knowing, as if something wise and infinitely compassionate gazed out in pity on a world that fell far short of what it had hoped for.

But pretty as Jenny was, Alice made her look very ordinary. Alice was just seventeen, and with her high cheekbones, vivacious eyes and white hair, she had become a spectacularly beautiful girl. Although she had gone to the dark and was now a witch, she did not have the shifty eyes or slyness of her mother, Bony Lizzie; Alice held her head high and looked everyone straight in the eye.

But Jenny and Alice had something in common. They didn’t like each other so I had to find some way to make them become friends or at least learn to tolerate each other.