“That was my Mercy!”
“Yes, Uncle. I know.”
“Still better than being a Necromancer,” said Gillian.
“Well, quite,” said Raven.
• • •
They tracked Jack’s daughter, Mercy, to the nearest hospital tent, where the unmasked knight was limping slowly forward to be greeted by a pleasant-looking young woman in simple horsewoman’s clothes, waiting at the entrance to the tent. She rushed forward and threw her arms around Mercy, holding her upright when Mercy’s knees buckled and almost gave out. The young woman spoke soothingly to Mercy, and helped her into the hospital tent. Jack hurried forward. The rest of the family studied him thoughtfully, curious as to how he was taking all this. He hadn’t expressed a single opinion yet, remaining resolutely cold-faced and silent. He just strode along, staring straight ahead, leaning heavily on his wooden staff but still covering quite a lot of ground for a man of his age. He finally reached the hospital tent, flung the flaps aside, and strode in. Followed by everyone else, including Chappie, all of them determined not to miss out on anything.
The young horsewoman was stripping Mercy out of her armour, revealing a slender woman in her late twenties, wearing a padded undersuit. Heavy purple bruising showed all down Mercy’s left side. Both women looked round sharply at the sudden entrance, Mercy’s long golden hair tumbling across her shoulders, and then she winced harshly as the sudden movement hurt her. She had a pretty, strong-featured face, with clear grey eyes and a generous mouth, and another heavy bruise on her left temple. The young horsewoman moved quickly forward, to stand protectively between Mercy and the intruders.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You can’t just barge into a hospital tent . . .”
“It’s all right, Allison,” said Mercy. “I’ve been expecting them.”
Allison fell back reluctantly, staying close to her friend. Mercy smiled at Jack.
“Hello, Daddy.”
“Hello, Mercy,” said Jack. “So this is what you’ve been up to, my girl. No wonder you stopped writing.”
She met his gaze defiantly. “You always told me to follow my heart, and stick to what I was good at. And I was very good at jousting. Really! I was unbeaten until today. And if that bloody Sombre Warrior hadn’t turned up . . . Oh, don’t scowl at me like that, Daddy! I’m a grown woman now. I’ve carried arms and fought in tourneys. I’m allowed to say bloody if I feel like it.” She broke off, and smiled radiantly at him. “But I am very pleased to see you again, Daddy. It’s been ever such a long time. What are you doing here? And who . . . Oh. Hello, Auntie Gillian.”
“Hello, Mercy,” said Gillian.
Jack caught something passing between the two women and nodded slowly. “Of course. I should have known. You’re the one who trained her, Gillian!”
“You were off hiding from the world in a monastery!” snapped Gillian. “Who else was she going to turn to?”
“So you knew all about this Sir Kay business?” said Jack.
“No,” said Gillian. She glared at Raven. “But you knew. And you didn’t tell me!”
“You’re not the easiest of people to talk to, Mother,” murmured the Necromancer.
“But who are all these other people, Daddy?” said Mercy, looking suspiciously at Hawk and Fisher. “I mean, I don’t know them. They could be anybody. Or are they some half brothers and half sisters from the wrong side of the blanket, from before you gave all that up to be a monk?”
“Show some respect, child,” said Jack. “These are your grandparents, Prince Rupert and Princess Julia. Come home at last.”
Mercy’s jaw dropped, and her eyes got very wide. Her mouth worked, but it was a few moments before she could come up with a response, which in the end consisted simply of . . .
“Gosh.”
Hawk smiled at her. “We’re going by Hawk and Fisher these days. Don’t want anyone to know we’re back.”
“And yes, we are looking really good for our age,” said Fisher. “We know.”
Mercy brought herself back under control, with an effort. “It’s not an easy thing, to meet a living legend. Hello, Grandpa and Grandma! You owe me a hell of a lot of birthday presents.”
“Hear, hear,” said Raven.
“Get in line,” said Hawk. “We owe a lot of people a lot of things.”
“He never remembers birthdays,” Fisher announced loudly to no one in particular. “Even when I remind him.”
“But . . . you’ve both got to be well over a hundred years old!” said Mercy. “This is something to do with the Blue Moon, right?”
“Close enough,” said Hawk.
“You don’t look anything like your official portraits,” said Mercy, almost accusingly. “Or your official statues.”
“So we’ve been told,” said Chappie.
Mercy and her friend Allison jumped, just a little. Chappie gave them both his most ingratiating smile.
“Never mind that,” Jack said shortly. “Why didn’t you write, young lady, and tell me what you were up to?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t approve,” Mercy said guilelessly. “And you certainly weren’t going to give me your permission. And then I’d just have had to go ahead and defy you and do it anyway, and upset you . . . So it seemed easier all round not to tell you anything.”
Jack surprised them all then by smiling. “Fair enough. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
They all looked at the young horsewoman, Allison, who was standing back a little and staring at them all like a mouse hypnotised by a snake. With eyes stretched so wide they looked positively painful. Mercy put an arm round Allison’s waist and pulled her close. She looked squarely at her father, fully prepared to defy him again.
“This is my girlfriend, Allison DeLain. My one true love.”
Everyone looked at Jack, expecting him to be shocked, or angry, but he wasn’t. He just smiled at Allison and nodded easily to her.
“You can’t spend as much time in a monastery as I have, and not know all about brotherly love. Are you two happy together?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Mercy said firmly. “Very happy.” Allison managed a small squeak and a nod, still somewhat overawed by the company, and the occasion. Mercy kissed her on the cheek and held her close.
“Then that’s all that matters,” said Jack. “Though God knows where my great-grandchildren are going to come from. Perhaps I should find a nice healthy girl and get married again.”
“Daddy!” said Mercy, honestly shocked. Allison giggled.
Hawk looked around the hospital tent. They’d clearly caught it at a quiet moment, though blood and discarded bandages on the floor suggested that hadn’t always been the case. All the camp beds were currently empty. The healers were standing in a far corner, exchanging gossip and passing round a wine bottle. Waiting for the next rush. Hawk fixed Mercy with a firm stare.
“We need to talk to you and your brother, here,” he said. “Your grandmother and I run the Hero Academy these days, and . . .”
Allison clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is just so amazing! Mercy, I never knew your family was . . . Sorry. I’ll keep quiet now.”
“Don’t mind her,” Mercy said fondly. “She gets overexcited so easily. Go on.”
“We had a visitor,” said Fisher. “The Demon Prince.”
Raven and Mercy looked at each other, and then at Jack and Gillian for confirmation, and then back at Hawk and Fisher again.
“The Demon Prince?” said Mercy incredulously. “Really?”
“Like, in the stories from our childhood?” said Raven. “I mean, I’ve read the histories, but . . .”
“He’s real,” said Jack. “We met him, on the way here. Or at least, one of his sendings.”
“He lives inside people now,” said Gillian.
“He threatened you, specifically,” said Hawk, looking hard at Mercy and Raven. “Said you’d both die, if your grandmother and I didn’t return to the Forest Land. So h
ere we are.”
“I never actually thought he was real,” Mercy said quietly. “Just some bogeyman, from the past.”
“I knew he was real,” said Raven, “but I never thought he’d be back . . . not after all you did to get rid of him.”
“And the Demon Prince knows my name?” said Mercy.
“Now you know why we stayed away, with different names and new lives,” said Fisher. “To distance ourselves from you, keep you safe.”
“Thank you,” said Raven. “For coming back. For us.”
Mercy nodded quickly. “You came all the way back here, to protect grandchildren you’d never even met. Gosh.”
“Family is family,” said Hawk. “Anyway . . . the Demon Prince also gave us a warning, or a prophecy. He said there would be war.”
“Between the Forest Land and Redhart?” said Raven.
“Presumably,” said Fisher. “Like most prophecies, it wasn’t big on detail.”
“I honestly don’t see how!” said Raven. “Prince Richard and Princess Catherine are getting married tomorrow, and the Peace agreement will be signed straight afterwards. And with the border dispute finally settled . . . there’s just no reason for either side to go to war!”
He stopped as he realised Mercy was shaking her head. “You’ve been hearing the same rumours I have, Cousin dear; you just don’t want to believe them. You know very well there are some really high-up people, and all sorts of vested interests on both sides, who don’t want this Peace at any price.”
“There are always rumours,” said Raven.
“Someone tried to poison the Princess just yesterday!”
Raven sighed, and nodded. He looked steadily at Hawk and Fisher. “There’s always someone ready to profit from a war. And some people have been profiting from the border skirmishes for a really long time. You might want to look into that. But you don’t need to worry about Mercy and me. We can take care of ourselves.”
“Really?” said Hawk. “Against the Demon Prince? You only know the songs and the legends. He was much worse than that.”
“You really did meet him,” said Allison in a very small voice. “A hundred years ago, when the Darkwood exploded outwards, and demons swarmed across the Land . . . I never really believed any of that! I thought it was just another story, to make children behave. Be good or the Demon Prince will come for you. But it’s all true, isn’t it? It all happened, and you were there . . . And now it’s all going to happen again. Oh God, oh God . . .”
“Hush, Allison,” said Mercy. “Steady, girl . . . We’re just talking. Everything’s going to be all right.”
“You don’t know that!”
Allison pulled herself away from Mercy and ran out of the tent. Mercy called after her, but Allison didn’t look back. Mercy glared at Hawk and Fisher.
“You frightened her!”
“Will she keep her mouth shut about who we really are?” said Hawk.
“Yes,” said Mercy. “It’s just all been a bit too much for her, that’s all. She’ll be fine when she calms down.”
“As champions of the Tourney, we’ve been invited inside the Castle,” said Fisher. “And once we’re in . . .”
“We can talk to all the right people and get a better understanding of what’s really going on,” said Hawk.
“There’s something you need to know, Uncle Jack,” said Raven, almost reluctantly. “I have good reason to believe . . . that the Stalking Man has visited King William, at Castle Midnight, in Redhart.”
Gillian looked at Raven sharply. “He’s real? Hell’s vengeance on Earth? I thought he was just a legend, a made-up counterpoint to the Walking Man.”
“Leland Dusque is very real,” said Jack slowly. “And very dangerous. I’ve . . . heard stories about him, of a disquieting nature. About what he is and what he does. I can’t think of any good reason why he should want to visit King William, or why William of Redhart would want to receive him.”
“Well, this has all been most fascinating, and more than a little worrying, but I have to get back to the Tourney and show my face,” said Raven. “A reputation like mine needs a lot of maintaining, or people will think I’ve gone soft and try to take advantage.”
“Don’t worry,” Gillian said cheerfully. “We’ll all come along. Keep you company.”
“Yes,” said Raven. “I was afraid of that.”
• • •
Back at the Grand Tourney, most of the fighting circles were empty, with all but a few of the day’s champions already decided, but the magical contests were still in progress. Raven led his family through the thinning crowds to the magic circles, where rather smaller groups of spectators did their best to follow the intricacies of what was going on, while maintaining what they very much hoped was a safe distance. Magical duels often ended up as surprisingly bloody affairs, with blasts of unnatural energies, lightning strikes from above, and even internal explosions. Along with some quite impressive curses. Hawk watched, fascinated, as two magicians of the darker type went head-to-head, standing unnaturally still and racked with deep concentration as they cursed each other with one appalling disease after another.
They started with the simpler stuff—shakes and shivers, boils and running sores, fevers and fugues—and then quickly escalated to leprosy, cannibal tapeworms, and infestations of bloodworms. In the end the loser just melted and ran away, like so much heated candle wax. Leaving just a pool of frothy pink liquid where he’d been standing, with his eyeballs floating sadly on the top. The winner quickly cured himself of the many maledictions he’d acquired and bowed smugly to the appreciative crowd.
Next, two magicians of the lighter quality engaged in a duel of fireworks, starting with brilliant lights in the gloomy skies overhead. Colourful manifestations lit up the sky, starting with flaring colours, spitting and sparking, followed by all kinds of carefully detailed patterns, and then moving on to more ambitious attempts as the magicians’ confidence increased. Everyone watching craned their heads well back, and oohed and aahed loudly in all the right places. One magician, gesturing frantically, produced an entire pirate ship overhead, made up entirely of glowing green light. Complete with sails and rigging, and silent cannon blasting out clouds of green smoke in a broadside. His opponent snapped his fingers sharply, and just like that a massive glowing purple dragon soared silently past in the sky overhead, with a great breath of purple fire billowing from its open jaws. The dragon slammed right through the pirate ship, which immediately fell apart into wisps of green smoke. The defeated magician scowled, and stabbed one hand at the heavens; and there, standing over the Tourney, were two huge human figures. A man and a woman, glowing gold, impossibly beautiful and graceful, like living gods.
“Who the hell are they supposed to be?” said Hawk.
“Ah,” said Raven. “I rather think they’re supposed to be those two legendary heroes, Prince Rupert and Princess Julia.”
“Nothing like us,” said Fisher. “I was never that pretty; and neither was he. And I certainly never had breasts that big. I’d have fallen over.”
But the crowds loved it, and the other magician gracefully admitted defeat. The two men shook hands and walked out of the circle. The crowd liked that. They approved of good sportsmanship, in small doses. Up in the sky, the dragon had already fallen apart, and the two golden figures were fading away. Hawk turned his back on the images and strode off. The rest of the family hurried after him.
The most experienced magicians dealt in transformations. Two magic-users stood face-to-face in the magic circle and struggled to outdo each other, over what they could turn themselves into. They started with easy, everyday things like wolves and bears and giant lizards, quickly escalating to horrid demonic shapes that almost certainly owed more to the dark imaginings of the two competitors than to anything ever seen in the real world. Eventually one really big and nasty creature just leaned forward, opened its jaws wide, and swallowed up the other creature. And that was that.
“I thought
the Land was supposed to have a shortage of magicians?” said Hawk.
“There is a shortage,” said Raven. “Of really powerful ones. These are just show-offs.”
In the next circle along, two magical healers were trying to outdo each other by healing more and more extreme cases as they were brought into the circle. The blind were made to see, the deaf to hear, and cripples threw away their crutches and danced joyfully. Plague and leprosy victims stumbled thankfully back to their somewhat relieved friends and family. And one gentleman just gave a great whoop of joy, ran out of the circle, grabbed his wife by the hand, and hurried off in search of somewhere private.
“Lucky that last one didn’t involve a laying on of hands,” Mercy murmured to Raven, who smiled despite himself.
The two healers stood together in the magic circle, wearing pure white robes and incredibly self-satisfied smiles. Hawk was prepared to forgive them much, if only because they did such excellent work, with a minimum of dramatic chanting and waving of hands. He liked to see real professionals at work. The first healer looked around at the fascinated crowd.
“More!” he said grandly. “Bring me more!”
“Hasn’t anyone had a heart attack at the Tourney today?” said the second healer. “I’m very good with heart attacks!”
“You should see what I can do with a hunchback,” said the first healer.
And then they both fell silent, as the crowd split apart to allow two families through, carrying two young men on stretchers; both had been severely wounded in the fighting circles. They lay very still, their gaping, bloody wounds quickly making it clear that both of them were quite dead. The families laid the two stretchers down before the healers, and then the fathers and mothers looked beseechingly to the healers for help.
“Please,” said one of the fathers, his face grey with shock. “There must be something you can do.”
The crowd were quiet, looking on sympathetically as the two healers knelt down by the two bodies. They did everything they could to find even the smallest trace of life, but in the end all they could do was look at each other, shake their heads, and get to their feet again.