21

In the dark of night they were rocked to sleep.

Jack thought he woke sometime, turning over, feeling gentle hands lift and carry him, like the mother he never knew, and the whispering breeze hushed him and told him to sleep. He thought he was passed from hand to hand, gentle as one might pass a baby.

When he awoke, he and Corriwen and Kerry were lying close together on a bed of dry leaves at the edge of the forest and ahead of them, the land rose towards bare hills.

Thank you, Jack whispered. As the old Leprechaun had promised, they'd had no need of roads. They had slept and the heartwood had started them on their way.

There was magic in this world, and not all of it was cruel and hungry. It was good to have allies in this strange and fearful place. They would need as many as they could find.

Kerry yawned and stretched. Corriwen woke with a start.

"It's a good day to get going again," she said. "And when we prevail, I will ensure their forest is guarded forever. A tree will never be cut there."

The set off into open country. Behind them, the forest was dark but they missed its security and shade. Out here they were exposed again, and high in the morning sky, small black dots wheeling above told them the roaks were abroad and hunting. They followed a line of low scrub bushes, always alert. They had been surprised too often not to have learned a lesson.

They trudged on, heading north, as the Marsh Bard had advised, moving out from the scrub to broken country of tussock grass and mossy rocks that stood out of the moor like broken teeth. Here and there, clumps of hazels and stunted birches provided little cover, but there was nothing for it but to keep walking.

A few miles along, Kerry raised a warning hand and as soon as they stopped, they heard it too. The drumming of hard hooves on dry ground. They peered between two stones where the track breasted a hill.

The horsemen were coming fast, at a gallop, haring down the track. He counted twenty or more, big men on big horses, sunlight catching shields and polished leather and the edges of swords. Forty yards away was a small coppice of hawthorn and elder, but thick enough.

"Run!" Corriwen and Kerry turned tail and ran, with Jack behind them urging them on. It was only forty yards, and they could have made it before the horsemen mounted the rise, but the heather snagged at their feet and Jack was only ten yards from cover when he slipped and fell headlong. Kerry and Corriwen pulled him upright and they were seconds from the shelter of the trees when the cavalcade came over the ridge and without pausing, came hammering over the heather towards them.

Kerry swore with such sincerity that Clarice would have washed his mouth with bleach.

Jack shoved him between the first scraggy hawthorns and they ran into the coppice, thorns ripping at them.

A great horse, easily as big as the one that had carried them all the way from the keep to the marshes, snapped saplings down with its bulk and drove between them. A broad sword came slashing down and missed Kerry's ear by a whistling whisker. He dodged, rolled across a fallen log while Jack and Corriwen jinked to the right and into dense cover.

Kerry tumbled, got to his feet, barged between the trunks while behind him the great horse pounded the ground with its hooves.

"Hold still and take it like a man," a voice bawled.

"That'll be the day," Kerry shouted back. He was on his own now, only managing to keep a couple of steps ahead, ducking and weaving and seeking the thickest growth to keep between him and the crazy horseman with the big sword.

Jack and Corriwen had swerved, and she was moving like the wind. He stayed on her heels, while hooves drummed behind them and branches snapped like kindling. It was clear the horsemen would force their way through and round them up. They would have to stop some time.

Kerry was running, but he had drawn his own sword. He dashed between two elder trees, spun himself around one and sliced upward with his blade. The point caught the rider just under the knee, and he cursed even more vehemently than Kerry had done only moments before. The horse reared, surprised by Kerry's sudden attack and the rider went backside over neck and landed with a thud.

"I'll have you," he roared.

"You have to catch me first," Kerry shot back.

The man got to his feet and lunged with the blade. It was twice the size of the short sword Kerry had. One sweep cut three saplings. Kerry gulped.

"Your sword, ye devil," the big man cried. He was head and shoulders taller than Kerry, with long black hair that spilled from a leather helm, and shells of armour over each shoulder.

"You stole yon sword," the man roared. "Thief. Scavenger."

He lunged again. Kerry tried to parry, the way he'd seen in films, but the man flicked his wrist and Kerry almost lost the sword altogether.

"It's mine," Kerry shouted back. "Finders keepers."

"I know the forge of that blade," the big fellow bawled. "Stolen from a hero. You'll pay for it. Give it up."

"No chance," Kerry said, quaking inside, but his Irish bravado couldn't put a brake on his tongue: "You'll have to take it out of my cold dead hand."

The man came on again, three or four quick blurring stabs and each time Kerry jumped backwards. The big fellow was an expert and his blade was huge. Kerry had no chance of winning this. He jerked back as the sword came sweeping in again, missing him by an inch, and stuck fast in a tree-trunk. The swordsman cursed and Kerry turned on his heel and ran before his opponent could lever the blade free.

"Turn and fight, scavenger. I'll have your eyes."

Kerry had no answer to that. He ran on and the big man came after him.

* * *

Jack was tiring fast and the horsemen were closing in.

Without warning a great horse loomed in from the left, caught him with its slab of flank and knocked him forward against Corriwen. She went down. Jack tumbled, got to his knees. A long lance came spearing in and he threw himself to the side before it skewered him to the ground. The razor point ripped his tunic across his chest and the point skipped off the black heart stone. He grabbed the lance, threw his weight against it and forced its point into the bole of a tree. The rider grunted, wheeled the horse and slashed down at him. He rolled back, dragging Corriwen by the hood. The horse pawed the air and a hoof the size of a dinner plate caught Corriwen a heavy blow between the shoulderblades.

"Run to earth, little foxes," a deep voice boomed. "At bay and backs to the wall."

The big man dismounted. He looked to be six foot tall and more, with yellow hair tied in braids that hung below his shoulders. He had a thick shaggy beard and blazing blue eyes.

"Skulking spies."

The rest of the cavalry forced their way through, tall in leather armour and shoulder-plates, emblazoned shields and long spears.

The bearded man turned to one of them. "Finish them here. We've no time to waste."

Jack had the bow up, an arrow firm on the string. He swung the arrow left and right, covering as many of them as he could. Corriwen was winded and groaning on the ground, raising herself up on all fours. Her hood had fallen over her hair. Jack nudged backwards, protecting her with his body.

"Make a move and I'll get one of you," he said, trying to keep the shake out of his voice. "Maybe two."

The leader threw his head back and laughed. "A spy whelp with a big bark."

Jack gritted his teeth, but pulled harder on the string. The amberhorn bow sang under the tension.

"You'll be the first one," he said very quietly. "I'll put this right through you.

While Jack was standing with the arrow ready to fly, Kerry was bobbing and weaving as the swordsman hacked and slashed after him. He had no chance in a straight fight with this man, but Kerry was faster and nimbler.

He leapt over a fallen trunk, ran round its roots and in one easy motion he scooped up a big rock. He braced himself and swung the stone with all of his strength.

It hit his pursuer right in the belly with a thud and knocked the wind out of him in one great wheeze. Kerry didn't pause for a second. He ran straight in, swung his head hard and butted the man square on the nose. Blood spurted and the big sword went clattering away. Kerry snatched up the blade and jammed it in the ground beside him. Now he had two.

"You little cretin," the man burbled through blood and snot, both hands up against his nose. "I'll kill you stone dead."

"With what?" Kerry took his belt off, looped it round the big man's neck, pulled hard.

* * *

Jack flicked his eyes to the right and saw Kerry shoving the man through the undergrowth. He had a huge sword in his hand, jabbed against the man's armpit.

Jack kept the bow taut, the deadly barb aimed at the bearded man's neck and he knew he would kill him if he took a step closer to Corriwen.

"How you doing?" Kerry saw the rip across Jack's shirt, and the black heart stone exposed on its chain.

"Getting by," Jack called back. He didn't want to show any fear at all, no matter how tight his throat felt. Corriwen was down and nothing would get near her as long as he was standing. Just how long that would remain the case, he had no idea.

"Drop the bow," the fair haired man demanded. "We'll make it quick…and honourable."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Kerry said. "Make a move and I'll take his head off."

They wheeled round. There was a very tense moment as nobody moved a muscle.

Then Corriwen managed to get to her feet and pulled the hood away from her head. She turned her face. The big man's expression changed from fury to wonder.

Her face lit up and she gasped a name that Jack didn't quite catch and before he could move she was between him and the arrow and then she was in the fair man's arms.

"Alevin," she squealed again, unable to contain her joy. Kerry looked at Jack and he looked back, completely bewildered.

"You know these loonies?"

She turned from the fair man's grasp, looked at Kerry, then beyond him, and despite the bruise that was blossoming between her shoulderblades, she came flitting across the distance, right past Kerry and threw herself into another set of arms and started kissing the bloodied man.

"Corrie Copperhead," he managed to gasp. "After all this time, we thought you dead, little cousin. I can't believe I see you here."

* * *

They had a fort, protected by a palisade of spiked logs and the narrow gulley that led to it was guarded by armed men.

Alevin, the man with the yellow beard and Viking braids, had been Ceruin Redthorn's right-hand man. The one with the bloodied nose was Corriwen's cousin Brodick and together they led the remnants of the regrouped armies defeated on the slaughterfields that Jack and Kerry had stumbled onto when they had come through the Farward Gate.

It was getting late now and the sky was deep red in the west. Corriwen could not contain her joy at finding Alevin and Brodick and their depleted army. They could see the renewed hope in her eyes.

They ate rough cuts of venison and thick crusty bread, sharing stories about past adventures. Alevin was a huge man, all muscle and anger, and he glared suspiciously at Jack and Kerry, still not convinced that they were not spies in the camp.

Kerry kept a distance from Brodick, who now had his sword back, convinced he couldn't take kindly to being beaten by a boy, but Brodick, despite the purple bruise on his nose, ruffled his hair and grinned.

"A real champion, this one," he said. "No swordsman, mind, but he fair took me by surprise. We could use his like to turn the tide."

He grinned at the rest of the big fighting men. "It's the stuff of song. If you'd rather not be bled…use a rock, and then the head."

They all laughed and Kerry went along with it, surprised at Brodick's generosity.

Alevin was much more serious, and he had a lot to be serious about. He questioned the two of them for hours, demanding to know how they met Corriwen and where they had come from and how they had managed to get this far.

"So it's just a coincidence that you met Lady Corriwen in the forest, and another coincidence that you just stumbled on our redoubt here?"

"We never knew you were here," Jack explained.

"So you say. But Mandrake has spies everywhere. It would be easy to befriend a lost girl and win her confidence."

"It's not been easy," Jack said. "You can believe that."

"They have my trust," Corriwen butted in. "They have fought for me and saved me, and braved dangers to bring me this far. It is not their quest or their battle, but they have promised to help me if they can."

"Forgive me, Lady Corriwen," the big fellow said, quite softly, though his tone was serious. "I've come a hard road myself and there's more travail ahead. I promised your brother I would fight on, and to do that, I have to watch everything. There's danger all around."

"Not from Jack and Kerry."

"You know them. I don't. We have found spies before and…" he glanced across at the boys. "We skinned them alive."

"Out of the frying pan," Jack whispered. "I don't think he likes us."

"We were betrayed," Alevin said. "By our own people. We did not know that Mandrake had bought other chiefs with promises of wealth. He stirred them up, saying the Redthorn Sword was lost, and set one chief against the other in search of power.

"We met in fair fight, but Mandrake's cunning ruined us on the day. We thought he fought for us, but he was against us, and while we won the battle, he sent the Scree down on us when we were sick and battle-weary. It was slaughter."

"I know," Corriwen said. "I found my brother. Killed by treachery."

"I never saw him fall."

"I took the knife from his back," she said, face set. "Killed by his own."

"So we trust no-one. Forgive me, but you are still young. What do you know of war and betrayal?"

"Because I have seen it. I have suffered it. But I also know of loyalty and friendship," she said. "And these are my loyal friends."

Brodick nodded. "They have come a long way, three young people, barely armed, and have fought hard.

"This stone-thrower bested me, when no Scree could. And Jackflint has saved the Lady Corriwen not just the once, but time over. Spies creep in the darkness and hide from sight. They don't face danger if they can avoid it."

Brodick managed to divert Alevin's suspicion, at least for now.

"So, how did you come on us?"

"We didn't," Jack piped up. "You came on us. We were heading north."

"That's Mandrake's territory," Alevin said. "And the Scree. Why would you want to go there?"

Corriwen stood up, dwarfed by these big fighting men. "I don't want to go," she said, in a small voice. "But I must. I can find the Redthorn sword."

"What good would that do?" Alevin said. "The clans are divided now."

"But it could make them see sense," Brodick cut in. "It has always united the chiefs in the past."

"It's more than that," Corriwen told them. "The Bard of Undine Haven says it's the only way to put an end to all this madness."

Alevin raised his eyebrows in question and Corriwen told him everything the Bard had shown them of Mandrake's pact with the Morrigan under the Black Barrow in the high desert.

"So how will you find this place, far off in the blighted lands?"

"Oh, that's easy," Kerry broke in. "We've got a guide-book."

Jack kicked him under the table. He didn't want to reveal any more than he had to. Any of these strangers could take the book from them and they would never find their way home.

But now that cat was out. Brodick and Alevin wanted to see it, so reluctantly Jack brought out the Book of Ways. As before, it opened of its own accord and the pages riffled as if in a breeze and then stopped. The two men bent over it and everybody held their breath as the script began to write itself line by line down the page.

"Sorcery," Alevin muttered. "Mandrake sorcery."

They read:

Friend and foe together find

Foe and friend in treason bind

Ware the sheath that lacks a blade

Traitor's hand a prince has slayed

Gird for battle, gird for fight

Flee the havoc of the night

Flee to friends who gladly aid

Seek the shelter of the glade.

"Not much of a guidance, this," Alevin said. "All I see is riddles and rhymes."

"That's the clever bit," Kerry said. "You have to work it out, but it's been right so far."

And to prove just how right it was, the Scree attacked before dawn.