Home > Rise of the Huntress (Wardstone Chronicles #7)(31)

Rise of the Huntress (Wardstone Chronicles #7)(31)
Author: Joseph Delaney

She looked in total control, and I felt waves of cold malice radiating from her. However, the Spook looked resolute, and he began to stride down the carpet towards the throne.

He halted at the foot of the steps. I was close behind him, and I saw him ease his left hand into the pocket of his breeches to curl the silver chain about his wrist. I remembered the last time my master had faced Lizzie, right at the very beginning of my apprenticeship. He’d killed Tusk, her powerful abhuman accomplice, and then bound the witch with his silver chain before carrying her over his shoulder back to a pit at Chipenden. Could he do it again? He certainly thought so. And surely Lizzie must remember what had happened last time?

I soon realized that she wasn’t the least bit concerned. In fact she wasn’t even looking at the Spook. She was looking at me, her eyes filled with malevolence.

‘Can’t be trusted, can you, boy? Soon as my back’s turned you run off to get your master. I should kill you now …’

Wasting no time, the Spook spun the chain, casting it towards Lizzie. She was still on the throne; it was an easy shot – the witch was as good as bound. I watched the chain shape itself into a gleaming, deadly spiral – but to my dismay it fell harmlessly to the floor a foot to the right of her.

How could he have missed? Powerful dark magic had to be the answer. Or maybe something else …

My heart sank right down into my boots. Alice was right to doubt my master’s powers. I was beginning to see the truth. The Spook was a man in decline. His strength was going. The John Gregory I’d first became apprenticed to would have bound Lizzie with no trouble, no matter how strong the magic she used against him.

He frowned, and an expression of bewilderment came over his face. He staggered and seemed about to speak, but then his hand went to his throat and he started to choke. His knees gave way, then he fell forward, his forehead missing the bottom step by inches. I quickly went to kneel beside him. He lay there, face down, barely breathing.

‘He’s not dead, don’t you worry!’ cried Lizzie, getting to her feet. ‘Old Gregory isn’t going to enjoy an easy death like that. Not after the painful years I spent trapped in that pit. I owe him for that, and he’ll suffer before he dies. I’ll give him pain like he’s never known before, just see if I don’t! This is going to be your master’s worst nightmare.’

Her words reminded me of my master’s dream about Lizzie, where she’d been seated on a throne, the floor flowing with blood. It was all coming horribly true.

She walked down the steps and raised her foot as if to kick him with the pointy toe of her shoe, then stopped and shook her head. ‘What’s the point of kicking him if he can’t feel it?’ she muttered. ‘Now, boy, I’ve got a job for you. I want you to go out and talk to those men beyond the gate. Tell ’em they work for me now: they should choose one of their own, a sensible man with experience, to be my seneschal – the servant who will give orders to the others on my behalf. He should come up to the throne room for an audience with me.

‘And one other thing – I don’t like being kept waiting. They have ten minutes to decide. Every five minutes over that time, and one of their number will die. So get you gone and tell them that, boy!’

I glanced down at my master and then at Alice, but that moment of hesitation angered Lizzie. She took a step towards me, her eyes flashing dangerously.

‘Thinking of disobeying me, boy? Well, think again. You see, I know all about the blood jar—’

‘I’m sorry, Tom, I’m sorry. She made me tell …’ cried Alice.

‘It’s just a case of who the Fiend comes for first. If Alice here displeases me, I’ll throw her in the dungeons. Without me by her side, she wouldn’t last five minutes. And as for you – well, that’s simple. I’ll deal with you right now. Take that blood jar out of your pocket and smash it on the floor! Go on! Do it!’

I tried to resist, I really did, but I found my hand obeying the witch. Alice’s eyes widened in terror, and I felt the sweat oozing from my brow. My heart pounded as I found my hand moving, as if of its own volition, to pull out the jar and lift it high, preparing to dash it to the floor.

‘Stop!’ Lizzie cried, just in time. She gave me an evil smile. ‘Now you can put it back in your pocket because you know what I’m capable of. Next time you disobey me again I’ll make you smash that jar and I’ll put you in the deepest, darkest, dampest dungeon. Then we’ll see which of them comes for you first – the buggane or the Fiend.’

I picked up my staff, turned and went to do her bidding. What choice did I have?

As I passed under the first portcullis and went across the yard towards the main gate, the yeomen got to their feet, gathering just beyond the moat.

‘What have we here?’ said Commander Stanton, walking towards me. ‘She’s bewitched you all right! We sent you in old and tall and you come back young and a good few inches shorter!’

They all laughed at his joke, but some of the guffaws were forced, the amusement hollow.

‘My master’s hurt,’ I told him, and then went on to deliver Lizzie’s message, worried about how Stanton might react to her instructions. He didn’t look like the sort of man who would take kindly to her plan to rule Greeba Keep. It also seemed highly unlikely that he’d agree to choose a seneschal for her. I just hoped that he wouldn’t get it into his head to punish me, her messenger.

Stanton looked unimpressed. ‘We’re to work for her, are we? And what if we’ve got plans of our own?’

‘She said you’ve just ten minutes to decide. If you don’t respond in that time, some of you will die – one for every five minutes you keep her waiting.’

Some of the men around him began to mutter and look apprehensive. I could sense the fear passing from one to the other like a disease.

At first Stanton didn’t reply. He looked thoughtful and gazed up at the tower. Then he turned back to me again. ‘You’re a spook’s apprentice, so you know about these things. Could she do it? Could the witch really kill some of us from a distance like that?’

‘It’s not easy,’ I admitted. ‘Witches often use curses and try to kill their enemies from afar – though it doesn’t always work. But Bony Lizzie is a really strong witch. She’s done things I wouldn’t have believed possible. A spook has some immunity against witchcraft, and my own master has practised his trade successfully for many years. That didn’t help him though,’ I went on, shaking my head sadly. ‘She used dark magic and he fell unconscious at her feet. So who knows what she is capable of?’

   
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