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‘You can’t know that.’

‘He knows my heart. He knows I yearn to voyage, see things no man has ever seen before, and I could not do that if I was tied to this place. You must rule Willdon, and in return I ask that you look after my people. They followed me, and I owe them that. That is the price he meant.’

‘How many are there?’

‘About six hundred, if you count women and children.’

She thought swiftly, the practical woman of business once more. ‘I’d have to extend the boundaries of the domain, clear some forest.’ She turned to Pamarchon. ‘Will they settle? Abandon forest life?’

‘Most will. The others you must help as they wish. I will not have them hounded or driven into poverty.’

‘You will have to stay for a while. They would not trust me, and I do not know them or understand them. You would have to help.’

‘Agreed.’

‘Afterwards I will look after them as well as you have, and as well as I do everyone else. Are you sure that is his meaning, and are you certain it is what you want?’

But Pamarchon had come to a halt. He touched Catherine gently on the arm and stopped her as well.

He put his finger to his lips. ‘When I speak, do exactly as I say,’ he said, so softly she could scarcely hear him. ‘Do not doubt me, or hesitate.’

Catherine could hear nothing, but knew someone like Pamarchon could understand noises that meant nothing to her.

‘This way,’ he whispered. ‘Quickly!’ Grabbing her firmly by the arm, he led her off the path and into the trees.

Catherine followed him without questioning, keeping as quiet as he evidently wanted her to do. He paused, made her go in front of him, guided her carefully to avoid making too much noise, then pulled her down onto the ground.

‘Soldiers,’ he said. ‘At least a dozen. They are not mine and, I’d guess, not yours either. They’re making far too much noise for people used to the woods.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. It is the reason I am still alive. I don’t make mistakes about things like this. Do not move a muscle.’

‘I have to breathe.’

‘Must you?’ He flashed her a reassuring grin, then vanished.

He disappeared into the undergrowth so carefully that not a branch broke or leaf rustled. Catherine crouched down, listening intently; faintly, in the distance, she heard voices, shouting, the clang of metal. Pamarchon had been right. They could not be her people.

Any further thoughts were interrupted by the elegant, almost dainty way he slid back down beside her. ‘Yes,’ he said with a certain satisfaction. ‘They are Gontal’s men. He seems to have decided to take by force what he is unlikely to have by right. Any ideas?’

‘You are asking me?’

‘I am. I have my men, but they are some way off and I do not want bloodshed. Not least because I do not know what side your own people would join. That would be a disastrous end to this. I assume we need to get you to the assembly square?’

‘I imagine people will be gathering there already. They will choose from candidates who present themselves in person.’

‘So Gontal’s aim will be to stop either of us getting there. The Chamberlain will start the meeting, call for candidates, and only Gontal will be present. We may protest afterwards, but it will be too late. If we try to fight our way through, then Gontal will feign outrage at our unwarranted assault.’

‘So,’ she said, ‘we sit here until it is too late, use your men to unleash a bloodbath we might lose, or risk arrows in our chests by trying to get in unnoticed. Gontal, I fear, has gone too far to be squeamish.’

‘Surely Esilio will not allow this to happen?’

‘I think he would say this is our business.’

‘In that case,’ he said, ‘we will have to make Gontal see the error of his ways.’

Catherine hoped that Pamarchon knew what he was doing. Certainly he seemed very sure of himself when he explained what he intended; for her part she could see no way of avoiding a direct confrontation. They hurried towards the great house, but could only get to within a few hundred yards before the open spaces meant there was no chance of concealment.

‘It never occurred to me that these gardens might serve a purpose. They make a curiously useful defence. Ah, well. Do you understand what you must do?’

‘Yes, General,’ Catherine said. He looked at her. ‘A joke,’ she said.

He grunted as she prepared to stand.

‘Catherine,’ he said, and held out his hand. She looked a little puzzled, then took it. ‘Do be careful. I have just acquired a family member I value. I don’t want to lose you so soon. I will cover you from here with my bow, but be prepared to run.’

The rest was simple. She walked boldly towards the house, and within a minute Gontal’s soldiers appeared, swords and bows at the ready. This was the dangerous bit; if they had been given orders to kill her on sight, then all the plans would come to nothing. That was why they had had an argument. She had insisted she should go; he had refused. It had become quite childish, for a moment, until she had said:

‘Why shouldn’t I do it?’

‘Because it was my idea. And I’m bigger than you.’

At which she sniffed disapprovingly and he, realising how absurd he was, laughed. ‘I can’t get at my men and I can’t command yours,’ she pointed out, ‘and we may need them. Besides, I can frighten Gontal better than you. I know him. He will not dare kill me. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.’

He had agreed very reluctantly indeed, but he knew she was correct.

So she marched up to the men and spoke before they could apprehend her.

‘Go and tell your master, Scholar Gontal, that he must come here immediately, or the wrath of Esilio will be let loose on this place and the whole of Anterwold destroyed, in punishment for his disobedience.’

‘Have you noticed, Gontal, how the spirit operates?’ Catherine said when the fat scholar waddled towards them ten minutes later. They had stood uneasily with Gontal’s guards as one of their number ran off to find their master. No one had said a word; Pamarchon had seemed entirely relaxed, which made the soldiers even more nervous.

‘Prophecies are fulfilled by men,’ Catherine continued. ‘Judgements and decisions are carried out by men. There is no magic, no spells, no supernatural interventions. Just the acts of men and women. Esilio proclaimed that Pamarchon and I should present ourselves as candidates to the assembly. That was part of the judgement condemning Jaqui, and if it was broken then Anterwold would be destroyed in its entirety.’

‘If they are fulfilled by men then I have nothing to fear,’ Gontal replied. ‘No man could destroy Anterwold, and if the gods do not intervene, then it will continue.’

‘That is not true,’ Pamarchon said. ‘I can destroy it. I will do so.’

Gontal laughed. ‘You? With your little band of outlaws? What are you going to do? Tear up the mountains, stone by stone? Drink the rivers and the seas?’

‘Those are just rocks and water. They are not Anterwold. Anterwold is the people and the way they live. The things which bind them together and make them know who they are. Anterwold is the Story. And yes, I will destroy it, with my little band of outlaws.’

Gontal gestured to his men, who drew their swords. ‘No, you won’t. You will die first, and you will even give me a justification for killing you.’

‘Then you will destroy it, and you will be cursed for ever.’

The calm way that Pamarchon spoke made Gontal pause. The young man did not seem afraid, and he did not seem to be threatening. He seemed to be setting out the facts.

‘When I thought of retaking Willdon, I knew that it could only be done by force. I had enough men, and perhaps I could have succeeded. But many would have died, and I did not want that. Why should the people of Willdon suffer for what others had done to me? So I thought of a different way. Two days ago I talked to four of my best men, people who owe me everything, people I could trust to do what I asked without question. I sent them to Ossenfud with orders to conceal themselves inside the Story Hall. Catherine would be given the choice: resign her position, or the Story Hall would be burnt.