In the back row, Mrs. Evans lowered her eyes uneasily, and Collier's face took on a more stubborn set, but Graham went on without pause.
"What is important is not the past, however, but the future. You have all been approached by Lady Selwyn and given the basic premise of what we propose. It is basically the same as Drake's grand coven. We ask that each of you convene your respective groups, and any groups over which you have influence, for a joint working on Lammas night. I stress that the actual method of working is up to you.
"Naturally, the more people who can work together in one place, the better. We realize, however, that a tnie grand coven is neither practical nor possible among so many divergent traditions as you represent, spread over so wide a geographic area. Merely to have all of you working by your own methods at the same time toward a common goal should give us far more power to send against Hitler than even Drake was able to raise against the Armada."
A man in the second row stood, arms folded belligerently across his chest—another man in black, master of many groups and individuals working in a tradition founded in Elizabethan times.
"Would you have us wish destruction upon Hitler, then, Sir John, and incur the wrath of the fates upon ourselves for daring to judge another? Would you put yourself above the lords of karma?"
Graham shook his head as the man sat down. "No, sir, I would not. However deserving of destruction we might feel Hider to be, that is not our place to judge. I am suggesting that we concentrate our efforts on the invasion itself—not to stop it once it starts, by storm or other calamity, but to prevent even the attempt to invade. By this, I mean that we work on Hitler's mind. We whittle away at his confidence so that he comes to doubt he can succeed even if he tries. It doesn't matter what we call our methods—prayer, ceremonial magic. Masonic ritual, witchcraft. The point is that we raise energy in whatever way is appropriate to our own traditions and then send our reinforced wills toward him with a single intent: you cannot come, unable to come —words to that effect.
"Nothing more overt, for Hitler himself is a black adept, highly trained, and might detect an open psychic attack. We feel that this more subtle approach of undermining his nerve is the safest and least arguable course overall."
The vicar had gone a little pale, obviously distressed, and Graham nodded in his direction.
"Did you have a question, vicar?"
The man cleared his throat nervously. "Are you saying that Hitler is a black magician?"
"I am. Specific facts are difficult to confirm, but we believe him to be an initiate of long standing in a group called the Thule Gesellschaft, within the old Germanenorden. These orders spawned many of the mystical elements of Nazism, including the theory of an Aryan master race and hatred of the Jews. Certain evidence suggests that the Thule Group is also a front for a network of other groups of equally dubious motive, most of them political in nature and many of them definitely slanted toward the blacker aspects of ritual magic. There's no doubt that the Thulists are black."
"Come now, colonel, isn't that what any occult fraternity always says about the opposition?" Collier challenged. "That they practice black magic, while we obviously practice white?"
Graham shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. It was a valid question despite Collier's way of putting it.
"You be the judge, major. I don't want to alarm our more conservative colleagues by going into needlessly gruesome detail, but I will say that an inner core of the Thule Gesellschaft is known to be openly satanist in all its nastiest connotations. Reliable evidence indicates that ritual torture and murder are used routinely as a means of raising power and consciousness. This is in addition to the warped sexual practices and other forms of sadism and human degradation which are part of the satanist's stock in trade. Such operations may, indeed, raise power, but what kind and at what cost to the operator?"
William's brother Freemason, Sir Robert, shifted uneasily, white-faced at Graham's account. Like the vicar, he definitely fell into Graham's category of a more conservative member of their gathering.
"Sir John, I'm finding all of this very hard to believe. To a certain extent, I must agree with Major Collier. What you've told us sounds almost too evil, too perverted-—the kind of propaganda that one's own side always tells about the enemy to make them into boogeymen and goblins. Next you'd be having us beUeve that the Nazis slaughter babies and eat them."
"I have no need to exaggerate," Graham said quietly. 'The facts speak for themselves. These are no usual wartime atrocities, magnified to make the enemy look worse. What I have told you has been going on for some years. No, this is symptomatic of a far more deeply seated wrongness—one with which, unfortunately, we have to deal. We must be careful that we don't become tainted in the process, pulled down to their level. That is why the indirect approach has been suggested to prevent the invasion, rather than a direct attack on Hitler."
The other man in black nodded agreement. "You've answered my objection on that count, then."
"But you have other objections," Graham supphed.
The man shrugged but said nothing.
"Very well. What other questions may I answer for you?" Graham asked. "Vicar, have I alleviated your fears?"
The vicar fidgeted in his chair, still looking vaguely uncomfortable.
"What about the date? May I ask about the significance?"
"Of course. You're surely aware that in the Christian calendar, Lammas is a festival of first fruits. The name comes from the Anglo-Saxon meaning 'loaf mass' and refers to the bread made from the first wheat or com which is offered to God at the beginning of the harvest season. As Lugnasad, Lammas is also the festival of the Celtic sun god Lugh. Either way, Lammas marks the first signs of waning solar influence— a singularly appropriate time to worlj: against Hitler, since he has adopted a corrupted sun symbol in his swastika. By concentrating our work between the hours of ten and midnight on Lammas, we feel that we can maximize our effect on Hitler. Of course, those of you who need or wish longer workings may certainly extend in either or both directions, as seems appropriate."
"You keep referring to we and us, colonel," Collier muttered, fidgeting in his chair. "Just who are these people who have been making decisions about how the rest of us should conduct ourselves? What makes you such a bloody expert?"
Graham sighed. "It should be obvious that Lord and Lady Selwyn are my immediate superiors, major—and you should know better than to ask beyond that. As for my expertise, which aspect do you question? Militarily, I can tell you that RAF reconnaissance only last night observed stepped-up Seelowe activity in several of the occupied Channel ports. We know that the Germans are massing barges and other materiel for the planned invasion.
"Nor is that the whole of it," he continued patiently. "Occultly speaking, the situation is no less grave. Even were it not for what I have already told you about Hitler and the Thulists, I can assure you that esoteric disciplines such as astrology and divination have been and are now being used against us by the German high command. Hitler makes very few important moves wtihout consulting his astrological advisers. An entire section of German intelligence in Berlin is devoted to harnessing the occult sciences for wartime use. One of the more insidious examples involves the use of dowsers and pendulum practitioners to determine the location of our convoys and major troop concentrations- Tm not saying that they are having any great success at this—for which we must be grateful—but the fact remains that they are making the attempt. All of what I have just told you is fact, not conjecture, gleaned from doc-umentable military intelligence which crosses my desk daily."
There were gasps, murmurs, and a few knowing nods around the room. Graham waited for the reaction to play itself out.
"Are there any other questions?"
There were many, but they grew increasingly less hostile as Graham managed to field each one with satisfactory answers and reassurances. Alix said little during the exchange, and William nothing at all, though the prince followed all t
he comments attentively. When, after half an hour or so, things seemed to be winding down, with all in varying if sometimes grudging agreement that a joint effort was not only possible but desirable, Graham held up a hand to curtail further discussion. He hoped Dame Emma was. ready for her cue.
"Very well, ladies and gentlemen. I think we've said all that is really necessary. For security reasons, I'd rather this discussion did not go on much longer. There are servants in the rest of the house who cannot be diverted indefinitely without arousing their curiosity, and all of you must return to your respective homes. We don't want trouble with the authorities because of blackout or curfew violations. So if we are all in agreement at last..."
After a brief, tentative pause, Dame Emma slowly stood, nervously fingering a strand of exquisite pearls.
"There is one thing more, Sir John," she said, apparently searching for just the right words, though they had gone over this several times beforehand. "Please don't misunderstand. I certainly have no quarrel with what has been decided here tonight. Whatever the outcome of this meeting, I would have led my people to the sea on Lanmias to raise the cone of power. We have done it twice already and will continue to do so periodically until the need is past.
"I am concerned, however, that you should have put your reputation so solidly on the line for us by coming here tonight and sharing what must surely be classified information. A careless word from any of us could do you great harm."
There was a soft murmur of agreement from several of them, but Graham only gave a deprecating shrug.
"I worry even more about His Royal Highness," Dame Emma continued. "He has put himself in an even less enviable position by his mere presence here tonight. Of the many traditions represented among us, there are several which would cause no flicker of scandal if it were learned that a prince of the blood had associations with them. Indeed, His Royal Highness has freely acknowledged that he is a Freemason, as are most of the men of the Royal Family. The vicar, and possibly a few of the rest of you fine people, would raise no eyebrows as royal acquaintances.
"My group, however—" She flashed a nervous smile. "Well, really, what would Buck House say about the King's brother consorting with witches?"
That evoked a titter of nervous laughter from several of the guests, but it died quickly. After an awkward silence, the woman in the back row beside the other man in black cleared her throat.
"Just what are you suggesting. Dame Emma? Surely you don't mean to imply that one of us would betray His Royal Highness."
Emma shrugged. "My faith is built on perfect love and perfect trust, just as yours is, my dear. I would hope that those principles mean something to all of us even if they are not stated in so many words. However, we are going to have to go back to our respective groups and repeat a certain amount of what has been said here. What I am suggesting is nothing beyond what any esoteric fraternity or association requires of its members, and that is an oath of secrecy—that the names of His Royal Highness and Sir John go no farther than this room, under any circumstances, and that the rest of what we have discussed is repeated solely as necessary to accomplish our stated goal."
Several nodded enthusiastically, but there were still some murmurs of dissent.
"I should like to know by what higher authority you propose such an oath might be sworn," the other man in black asked. "As has been amply pointed out, our traditions and even our faiths are different. There is no conmion ground for that."
"I agree," the vicar said. "I and mine are willing to work as equals in this particular instance because the need is great, but we are still separate. We cannot swear by any pagan god."
As the company erupted in renewed controversy, most of them on their feet, Graham glanced down at William uneasily, wondering whether he or William should try to intervene. The prince had not moved from his chair—still sat with elbows propped on chair arms, hands clasped before him, legs elegantly crossed in his immaculate naval uniform. Graham tried to catch his eye, but the prince was intent on the arguments. Before Graham could decide what to do next, William had uncoiled from his chair and risen, one hand smoothing his Garter riband. The argument died down almost immediately, as his audience was reminded of his presence, "Sit down, all of you."
William did not raise his voice, but the tone demanded instant obedience. All of them sat, even Graham surreptitiously pulling an extra chair closer to perch gingerly on the edge of its seat. The matter had now been taken out of his hands. He hoped the prince was not about to make a colossal blunder.
"I—am—appalled!" William said at last, almost spitting out the words, when he had their undivided if wary attention. "I have been sitting here for nearly an hour now, listening to people who supposedly love their country quibble about tiny, insignificant differences of method while, a few hundred miles away, a monstrous man plots their country's ruin! Do you suppose that I came here for my health tonight, ladies and gentlemen? I assure you, I did not. I came for England's!"
Somewhere in their midst, a woman gasped. One of the men in the back row opened his mouth and started to answer but then thought better of it and subsided when he saw Wil-Uam's eyes. William's jaw tightened and then relaxed a little as he continued on a milder note.
"It may interest you to leam that there are surprisingly few things a prince can do for his country in time of war," he said with a slightly bitter note. "We visit military installations and factories behind our own lines, and we make encouraging little speeches. We show the royal colours. We're not permitted to go out on the front and fight with the rest of our people. We're told, 'What if you should be captured, sir?' Not killed — cap-turedl We are not even given the privilege of dying for our country, like other folk!"
"Sir, with respect—" Avery began.
"Be quiet, sir! I'm not finished. And that wasn't with respect, and you know it. You, at least, have been presented with an option which may do something to help—which is more choice than I have, for all my rank and royal birth. Yet you—all of you—persist in this pointless, petty bickering! Is it only an empty phrase, this 'perfect trust' you seem to value so?"
"No, sir, but—"
"I don't want your equivocations! You either trust or you do not. If you do, then it seems to me that the least you can do is to give one another a simple reassurance that you mean to follow through with what you say you agree upon. Swear by England if you must have a common object of the oath. Are we not all bound unto her cause?"
A sickly, stunned silence stretched on for several long seconds. Graham was afraid to even breathe for fear of disrupting the fme balance. William stood there glaring at them like some absolute prince of long ago, sparing no one, marking them all with his cold blue gaze, daring them to dispute him.
Finally, Dylan Conwy rose and came slowly forward, his bearded face set in an odd, almost hopeful expression.
"Sir, I will swear such an oath to England—through you."
As whispers of reaction spread among them, with several emphatic nods of agreement, Graham chanced a quick glance at Alix, not certain he had understood correctly. But Alix stood as Conwy approached, nodding almost imperceptibly as the older man came before William and stopped. Graham stood too, suddenly very uneasy.
Conwy stared into the prince's eyes for a timeless instant, Graham unable to tell who was measuring whom. Then, as Graham held his breath, the old man inclined his head in a dignified bow.
"Sir, in my religion, we do not kneel to any man, but I will kneel to you and place my hands between yours as a token of my obedience to what has been asked," he said, suiting action to words and looking up into William's eyes. "I swear that I shall keep silent regarding what I have seen and heard here tonight, saving only what must be revealed to those similarly sworn so that your wishes may be carried out. May all my powers fail me and my weapons turn against me if I break this, my solemn oath."
As Graham looked on in amazement, wondering whether William had caught the multiple levels of meaning in Conwy's word
s, the prince glanced out at the others and then back to the Druid leader, his hands still clasped around the old man's.
"This I have heard and receive for the sake of England,** he said steadily. "God grant that I may be worthy of the trust you have shown me by the giving of this oath, and may He bless you in whatever form you may acknowledge Him."
Conwy nodded, touching his forehead to the clasped hands, and then William raised him up, guiding him to Alix's side, for Sir Robert had moved into place behind as William finished speaking. Now William's Masonic brother bent his knee, also offering his joined hands in homage.
"Sir, by the oaths which we have sworn together, I pledge you my obedience in what you have asked—so help me God."
"By the oaths which we have sworn together, I pledge you my support," William replied, murmuring something else that Graham could not quite catch.
After he raised him up. Dame Enuna approached and swore.
"May all in accord with this oath swear likewise, with their hands between the hands of this puissant prince," she said as she rose and moved aside.
Gradually, the others came, even Collier finally bending knee with the others, until all had sworn save Graham and Alix. Not a word was spoken as the last of them returned to their seats and remained standing, all eyes still fastened on the prince.
William ducked his head briefly, only Graham able to see the start of tears, which the prince quickly blinked back. When William looked up at them again, his eyes were still bright with emotion.
"I think we all, perhaps, have learnt a lesson in humility tonight, my friends," he said softly. "I hardly know how to thank you for the trust you have placed in me. You have also given me something I feared never to have: an opportunity to serve in a very special way, to unite you in a conmion cause for our beloved land. Whatever the outcome of your effort, I shall always cherish this night in my heart, knowing that perhaps I was instrumental in some small way. I have only my prayers to offer on Lammas night, for I have no esoteric training beyond my Masonic indoctrination and my childhood faith— despite what some of you may have thought because of my association with these brave folk." He gestured toward Graham and Alix. "But I assure you that I shall spend the hours of your working alone in prayer. Perhaps that will help in its small fashion. God bless you all and give you safe journey home."