‘There were other witches here,’ Alice added. ‘With the boggart gone they were able to enter the garden and release her.’
The Spook gave no sign that he’d heard what we said. He was now clutching the Bestiary to his chest and staring into the ashes morosely. It didn’t seem a good time to suggest that we go north to Arkwright’s place. It was getting dark now, and it had been a hard journey west, with bad news at the end of it. I just had to hope that my master would be a bit more like his old self in the morning.
Now that they were in no danger from the boggart, I whistled to summon the dogs into the garden. Since our return from Greece, Claw and her fully grown pups, Blood and Bone, had been staying with a retired shepherd who lived beyond the Long Ridge. Unfortunately they’d become too much for him, so we’d collected them and were on our way back to Chipenden when we’d seen the smoke over Caster. The three had been used by their dead master, Bill Arkwright, to capture or kill water witches.
I made a small fire on the lawn while Alice went hunting rabbits. She caught three, and soon they were cooking nicely, making my mouth water. When they were ready, I went across and invited the Spook to join us for the meal by the fire. Once again he didn’t so much as acknowledge me. I might as well have been talking to a stone.
Just before we settled down for the night, my eyes were drawn to the west. There was a light up on Beacon Fell. As I watched, it grew steadily brighter.
‘They’ve lit the beacon to summon more troops, Alice,’ I said. ‘Looks like a big battle’s about to begin.’
Right across the County from north to south, a chain of fires, like a flame leaping from hill to hill, would be summoning the last of the reserves.
Although Alice and I lay close to the embers of the fire, there was a chill in the air and I found it difficult to get to sleep, especially as Claw kept lying across my feet. At last I dozed, only to wake suddenly just as dawn was breaking. There were loud noises – rumbling booms and crashes. Was it thunder? I wondered, still befuddled with sleep.
‘Listen to those big guns, Tom!’ Alice cried. ‘Don’t sound too far away, do they?’
The battle had begun somewhere to the south. Defeat would mean the County being overrun by the enemy. We needed to head north quickly while we still could. Together we went over to confront the Spook. He was still sitting in the same position, head down, clutching the book.
‘Mr Gregory,’ I began, ‘Bill Arkwright’s mill has a small library. It’s a start. Something we can build on. Why don’t we head north and live there for now? It’ll be safer too. Even if the enemy win, they may not venture any further north than Caster . . .’
They might send out foraging patrols, but they would probably just occupy Caster, which was the most northerly large town in the County. They might not even spot the mill, which was hidden from the canal by trees.
The Spook still didn’t raise his head.
‘If we wait any longer, we might not be able to get through. We can’t just stay here.’
Once again, my master didn’t reply. I heard Alice grind her teeth in anger.
‘Please, Mr Gregory,’ I begged. ‘Don’t give up . . .’
He finally looked up at me and shook his head sadly. ‘I don’t think you fully understand what’s been lost here. This library didn’t belong to me, lad. I was just its guardian. It was my task to extend and preserve it for the future. Now I’ve failed. I’m weary – weary of it all,’ he replied. ‘My old bones are too tired to go on. I’ve seen too much, lived too long.’
‘Listen, Old Gregory,’ Alice snarled. ‘Get on your feet! Ain’t no use just sitting there till you rot!’
The Spook jumped up, his eyes flashing with anger. ‘Old Gregory’ was the name Alice called him in private. She’d never before dared to use it to his face. He was gripping the Bestiary in his right hand, his staff in his left – which he lifted as if about to bring it down upon her head.
However, without even flinching, Alice carried on with her tirade. ‘There are things still left to do: the dark to fight; replacement books to write. You ain’t dead yet, and while you can move those old bones of yours it’s your duty to carry on. It’s your duty to keep Tom safe and train him. It’s your duty to the County!’
Slowly he lowered his staff. The last sentence Alice uttered had changed the expression in his eyes. ‘Duty above all’ was what he believed in. His duty to the County had guided and shaped his path through a long, arduous and dangerous life.
Without another word he put the charred Bestiary in his bag and set off, heading north. Alice and I followed with the dogs as best we could. It looked like he’d decided to head for the mill after all.
We never reached the mill. Perhaps it simply wasn’t meant to be. The journey over the fells went without a hitch, but as we approached Caster, we saw that the houses to the south were burning, the dark smoke obscuring the setting sun. Even if the main invading force had been victorious, they couldn’t have got this far north yet: it was probably a raiding party from the sea.
Normally we’d have rested on the lower slopes, but we felt a sense of urgency and pressed on through the darkness, passing even further to the east of Caster than usual. As soon as we reached the canal it became clear that it would be impossible to travel further north to the mill. Both towpaths were thronged with refugees heading south.
It was some time before we could persuade anybody to tell us what had happened: they kept on pushing past, eyes filled with fear. At last we found an old man leaning against a gate, trying to get his breath back, his knees trembling with exertion.
‘How bad is it further north?’ the Spook asked, his voice at its most kindly.
The man shook his head, and it was some time before he was sufficiently recovered to answer. ‘A large force of soldiers landed north-east of the bay,’ he gasped. ‘They took us all by surprise. Kendal village is theirs already – what’s left of it after the burning – and now they’re moving this way. It’s over. My home’s gone. Lived there all my life, I have. I’m too old to start again . . .’
‘Wars don’t last for ever,’ the Spook said, patting him on the shoulder. ‘I’ve lost my house too. But we have to go on. We’ll both go home one day and rebuild.’
The old man nodded and shuffled across to join the line of refugees. He didn’t seem convinced by the Spook’s words, and judging by his own expression, my master didn’t believe them either. He turned to me, his face grim and haggard.