‘The world is about to change for ever, because of what we are doing here,’ Oldmanter said quietly. ‘We can make something truly wonderful of it.’
66
‘Master Henary!’ Jay called, running after the heavy figure walking slowly back towards the great house. ‘Wait!’
Henary stopped as the boy — maybe not so much a boy any more, but still distressingly young — caught up with him.
‘Master Henary,’ Jay repeated, then stopped. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘For the first time in my life, Jay, I am disappointed in you,’ Henary replied mildly.
‘What has happened?’
‘I have no idea. Except that you have demonstrated what a magnificent teacher I am. You have kept calm through heaven knows what difficulties, you have made your first speech and defeated one of the finest orators in Anterwold, and you have stared a spirit in the eye without flinching. I claim some credit for your achievement.’
‘By all means.’
‘Alas, not much. You will far exceed me. I will be known to future ages only as your first teacher.’
‘Hardly.’
‘You took risks I would never have dared take and triumphed.’
They continued on, heading for the assembly, until Henary spoke once more. ‘We have seen marvels today. The fulfilment of a prophecy, the descent of spirits, the end of the world. A great injustice rectified. Extraordinary things. Do you know, a part of me really does feel almost disappointed.’
‘Why?’
‘Because all I heard was common sense. Esilio descended and all he told us was what we already knew. What we should have known, at least. Strange, don’t you think?’
‘It was terrifying, though.’
‘It was. And the news will spread across Anterwold like a forest fire in summer. It will change everything, and for ever. We may perhaps help it to change in the way the spirit instructed. I would say I needed your help, but let me rather offer you such assistance as I can.’
‘I... well...’
‘There is so much to do, Jay. It will be wonderful and frightening for us all. Do not think everyone will agree with us. We will need to argue, persuade and cajole.’
Jay smiled. ‘What do you think we should do first?’
‘First? Well, first we go and watch this ceremony. Then we go to Ossenfud. Do you know, I think it would be good to get there before Gontal does. After that, well, that’s when the fun really begins. Now, what I suggest is...’
And the large old man and the thin young boy walked, laughing and talking, into the darkening night, each more excited than ever before in their lives, until they came to the large courtyard where the assembly was being held, in front of all the adults of the domain who had managed to get there in time. The atmosphere was one of high tension and great noise. The Chamberlain was already speaking when they arrived, but was having trouble being heard. Twice he had recited the required words, but had to shout them out for a third time before enough calm descended for the ceremony to continue. Who, he almost shouted, presented themselves first to the assembly?
Catherine walked forward, looking like a lord despite her clothes. Many scarcely recognised her, but when they did a loud murmur of approval ran through the courtyard, and then a stamping began, a few first, then everyone joined in, beating their feet on the ground, shouting and cheering to see her again. For once she broke protocol and, tears streaming down her cheeks, acknowledged their welcome.
‘Does anyone claim a better title? Is there any member of the line of Thenald who wishes to present himself?’
All stared at Pamarchon. This was the moment he had dreamt of for years. The moment he had suffered for and plotted to achieve. He stepped forward confidently and in a clear, loud voice exclaimed so all could hear: ‘Not I!’
‘That is your final word?’
‘It is.’
‘Then does any other member of the family wish to present themselves?’
It was the measure of Gontal that he had not left already; a lesser man would surely have done so, walked away from the defeat and the humiliation. But Gontal was made of sterner stuff. He was a man of propriety and rules. They had sustained him and guided him all his life, and he felt obliged to honour them even now. That didn’t mean, of course, that he had to enjoy it. Still he was there, standing proudly and stiffly as the question was posed. He stood forward also, head upright as he said: ‘Not I!’ although many noted that his tone was rather less enthusiastic.
There was much more for the Chamberlain to say, but no one heard it. It had been a week without parallel, and only a few hours previously many there had been in terror of their lives. They had seen things that would be talked of for generations. Their Lord had been lost and found again. They had come close to war. The prophecies of old had been fulfilled in ways which had terrified them.
Now all was restored and forgiven. Ossenfud and Willdon had been returned to harmony. The stain on the family of Thenald was wiped clean. The innocent had been forgiven, the guilty punished. The day of judgement had come and gone, and they had been freed from servitude.
No wonder no one heard the Chamberlain pronounce, ‘Then I declare the Lord of Willdon is Lord once more, and this election is at an end,’ although he tried his best. Everyone was simply too happy, too noisy and too excited to pay a blind bit of attention.
Amid the bedlam, Pamarchon came over to be the first to acknowledge Catherine, ensconced once more on her seat of office.
She smiled. ‘You owe me no obedience,’ she said as he made to bow to her. ‘You know that as well as I do. Go. Find that wife of yours. If you are going to reverence anyone, she deserves it more than I do.’
‘Then with your permission...’
He scuttled out the door.
And came straight across Antros, bearing Rosalind in his arms, with blood streaming down her dress.
With a cry of despair, Pamarchon ran across the lawn to where Antros now stood. ‘What happened? What’s the matter with her?’
‘Jaqui,’ Antros said. He was breathing heavily from the effort of carrying Rosalind so far and so quickly, terrified that if he was too slow she might bleed to death and that if he ran he might cause her pain. ‘The spirit went back into the light, and Jaqui tried to make Rosalind go as well. He was pulling her into it and I fired. The spirit had told me to, I think. He had that knife, and cut at her before Rosalind pushed him through. He has gone.’
While he was speaking he laid Rosalind on the grass and Pamarchon, who was skilled at such things, looked carefully. A bad cut across the ribs, where Jaqui’s knife had caught her as she pushed him through the light. It was bleeding heavily, but looked worse than it was. She opened her eyes at his touch and smiled as she saw his worried face. ‘I’m really not that bad,’ she said. ‘I am quite capable of walking, thank you.’
‘Don’t you dare.’
Rosie lay still as he examined her and then smiled at Antros. ‘That is the second time you have rescued me, Antros the brave,’ she said faintly. ‘I do hope the Professor hasn’t been reading about Launcelot and Guinevere as well.’
Pamarchon picked her up himself and walked towards the house, with Antros running ahead to summon a healer. Catherine came out, and immediately abandoned the ceremony of installation to hurry over as well. Then the healers took over and banished them, laying her on soft sheets and getting clean cloths and astringents to clean the wound before binding it up.
‘Stop looking so frightened, young man,’ one said to the panicking Pamarchon. ‘Anyone would think you had never seen blood before. Now go away. She does not need you, and nor do we. She needs calm and quiet. You may see her when we are done. It is not such a very bad wound, so stop fretting.’