‘You want me to fight Adriana?’ I asked. I couldn’t believe what he was asking me to do.
‘No, you young idiot! Not that foolish girl. I’ve got other plans for her! You’ll face a much more dangerous opponent – one who’s from your own neck of the woods. I mean Lizzie, the bone witch!’
‘Bony Lizzie’s here?’ I asked in alarm.
‘She’s my prisoner, boy. And soon she’ll be dead – that’s if you have the skill and guts to put an end to her! What do you say?’
I didn’t reply. Was it a trick or a real chance of freedom?
‘Of course, if you lose, you’ll forfeit your own life. I’ve made the witch the same promise. And I’ll let her take her pet away with her too; lose, and it dies with her. Come on, make up your mind. Don’t keep me waiting!’
‘Her pet?’
‘The other witch. The one she controls. No doubt she came with her from over the water. Together they cut the throats of those poor fishermen. For that they both deserve to die. My own money will be on you. I like to bet on long shots …’
What choice did I have? I gave the merest of nods to signal my acceptance of his offer. Immediately the image of the shaman began to fade as he withdrew his spirit back into his body.
The next day they fed me well. The first meal was a hot plate of lamb with roast potatoes and carrots.
‘Eat up, boy! My master wants you fighting fit!’ jeered the mocking guard who handed me the meal. ‘And you’ll need every last ounce of strength to face what he’s got planned!’
He and his companion left, laughing as if at some private joke, and were back just over six hours later with a delicious venison stew. I ate sparingly – despite the fact that I had eaten little the previous day and was very hungry. I needed to prepare myself to face the dark – though I also knew I would need all my speed and strength to overcome Lizzie: it would be a difficult test. I could use my staff and chain against her, but no doubt she’d be armed too; a bone witch like Lizzie was skilled in the use of blades. And if she won, she’d take my bones …
And who was this other witch, the ‘pet’ whom she’d brought over from the County with her? She was a completely unknown entity – probably a young witch Lizzie had taken under her wing to train. Maybe it was one of the witches who’d released her from the pit in the Spook’s garden. She would be dangerous too – one more servant of the dark to worry about.
I had plenty of time to think. Mostly I worried about Alice. What had become of her? I took the blood jar out of my pocket and held it in the palm of my right hand for a while. How long would it be before the Fiend realized that she was no longer protected? I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Alice.
Then there was my master. Had he managed to escape? I wondered. If so, I knew he’d be planning to rescue me. It seemed hopeless – most probably he’d be imprisoned himself. Could I escape from Greeba Keep before that happened? Would the shaman really let me go if I defeated Lizzie? Was he likely to keep his word?
There was poor Adriana too. What did the shaman mean by saying he had ‘other plans for her ‘? How could I just abandon her?
My fruitless speculations were brought to a halt by the arrival of the guards, this time to take me to face Lizzie. When we entered the long room, I noticed that there were a lot more men sitting on the straw bales. Many were standing too, and money was changing hands, but they all fell silent when I was brought in, staring at me in silent appraisal.
The dogs were in their cages against the left wall of the room, and to my relief Claw, Blood and Bone were still amongst them. Would the shaman really let me take them with me if I won? I’d no choice but to fight anyway. If I did nothing, Lizzie would soon put an end to me.
It was then that my eyes settled on the furthest cage, the one nearest the entrance to the buggane’s tunnel. Yesterday it had been empty; now there was something inside it – but not a dog. At first glance it looked like a bundle of dirty rags. But then I made out a figure curled into a ball, hands gripping ankles, head resting on knees.
Lord Barrule got to his feet and came across the sawdust floor towards me. ‘Are you ready, boy?’ he asked. ‘I have to tell you that most of the sensible money is on the witch. We all saw what she was capable of when we captured her. Five of my men died; another two lost their minds. So we’ve tried to give you a fighting chance. We’ve done the same to her as we’ve done to her pet. Come and see …’
He led the way to the furthest cage, the guards pulling me after him. He halted there and pointed down at the bundle of rags on the filthy straw. I saw the pointy shoes even before she raised her head.
It was Alice, and at the sight of her my throat constricted with emotion. She looked up at me, her eyes filled with tears, and her expression was one of pain and hopelessness. They had stitched her mouth shut with thin brown twine. Her lips were tightly bound together so that she couldn’t speak.
‘I’ve had the same done to her mistress. The witch can’t utter spells now, boy! But no doubt Lizzie will still manage something …’
At that moment, had my staff already been in my hands, I would have thrust its silver-alloy blade into his heart without a moment’s hesitation. I was furious at what had been done to Alice. But then despair took over: if I won and the shaman kept his word, I’d be free to take the dogs with me; but Lizzie would die and so would Alice. Either way, I’d lose.
Still, at least I knew that she hadn’t been seized by the Fiend and dragged off to the dark. Things looked grim, but as my dad used to say, while there’s life there’s hope.
‘Right! Let’s make a start!’ Lord Barrule said, and as he returned to his seat, the guards dragged me to the very centre of the long chamber. A dozen yeomen came in, each gripping a long spear, and formed a wide circle about me; then each went down on one knee, facing me, so that the gamblers behind would still have a clear view. Their spears were pointing inwards, and it was clear that their purpose was to mark the boundary of the arena and prevent any escape or retreat from the contest.
Lord Barrule stood up and raised his hand, and I heard a commotion from the doorway; the same one from which I’d entered. Bony Lizzie was brought into the room, kicking and struggling – it took four men to control her.
Two of the yeomen guards moved aside to allow them into the circle, and she was forced to face me. It was the Lizzie I remembered – almost the spitting image of Alice, but older, in her late thirties perhaps, and with shifty eyes and a sneering expression. Her lips were stitched together just like Alice’s. The moment she saw me, the witch stopped struggling and a strange, sly look came into her eyes; one of calculation and cunning.