Haggart's Dawn Page 6
“I'd like to say that I hope we're all wrong...”
Haggart said nothing. He just nodded and carried on working.
*
Just before evening Talbert and the Courier returned with a fresh horse in tow. Haggart was eager to see him leave and get under way but the man seemed keen to hang around, even hinting at staying another night. It was Talbert who persuaded him otherwise and offered to escort him to the next village after hearing of rumours of a group of bandits hiding in the forest. Relieved to see him turn his horse to the east, Haggart made sure they'd disappeared over the horizon before gathering his supplies and mounting his own horse. The Captain was already waiting, eager to get under way.
“Do you think it's wise to leave the boy in charge of the pub?” he asked as Haggart climbed into his saddle.
“Nope.”
“I didn't think so. We'll probably come back to empty kegs and a burning building.”
“It's a risk we'll have to take for now.”
They set off at a brisk pace even as the night came quickly around them. The forest became noisier than it'd seemed during the day – the night creatures deciding it was safe enough to call to each other across the towering trees and thick undergrowth. In the quiet of the night the falling of the horses' hooves were like drum beats and once they were within a few miles of the valley they dismounted and led their animals into the trees opposite a large mile stone. Dressed in light leather clothing and carrying only small, easily concealed weapons, they continued along on foot, leaving the horses tied far enough from the road not to be noticed.
“It's good to be moving again,” said the Captain as they ambled along and Haggart knew exactly what he meant. He wondered if it had been too long since they'd last had something meaningful to do. There was the old thrill of doing something dangerous, of being engaged in work they were good at doing again. It was an almost childlike pleasure and Haggart found himself grinning in the darkness.
“Aye. Let's just hope this machine isn't what we think it is. I'll take my quiet life over that conclusion any day.”
Once they were at the valley edge they both remained quiet, the Captain leading the way carefully down the slope towards the mill, noticing that there were still lights on inside. The moon was up and it was a clear night. Haggart looked at him and shrugged. It was late, even for one of Hector's parties, and there was no loud talking, no cheering, no merriment.
The Captain pressed on and reached the valley floor soundlessly, leading Haggart towards the lights. As they grew closer they could hear muffled voices, whispering and a soft rattling of metal on metal. They walked around the building doing their best to avoid the blacked out windows and when they reached the door they could see a sliver of light slicing through the darkness. The door had been pushed closed but not hard enough to engage the lock. A crack of pale yellow light shone along its edge and spilled out into the still night. The Captain moved quickly to the other side while Haggart stayed where he was. Then they moved in closer to listen.
“... no more... no more. I can't take this risk any more, Hector,” said a rasping, pleading voice neither of them recognised.
“We must. There can be no turning back now, no fear. If we stop now...” It was Hector this time.
“How much more does it need? People are getting suspicious. What if...”
“If we stop now we risk it dying. Do you want that? Do you think that when the time comes and this thing is lifeless we'll escape unscathed? You're a coward and an idiot, Maurice. Just do your duty and bring me the bodies – dead or alive, I don't care which. Just keep them coming. I'll deal with any one who gets too nosy.”
“You'd better be good for it, Hector. I’ve too much to loose...” There was a crash as crates and barrels were knocked over and Haggart assumed that Hector had gotten a little more physical with Maurice.
“Listen here and listen well – you'll keep bringing them and you'll keep living. Understand? If we fail then we all suffer - your family and mine.”
The door suddenly burst open spilling light across the valley and Haggart was glad he'd seen it coming. His night vision was gone instantly but he'd took cover behind a stack of crates and crouched down, letting Maurice pass him without being seen. He disappeared into the night and Haggart watched him leave as the conversation seemed to continue. There was someone else in there with them.
“If he betrays us...” said Hector.
“I'll deal with him the moment he looks like he'll break. You were wrong to trust him, brother.” This new voice was deep and booming and laced with threat.
“What choice did I have? He's the only one who can supply the food this machine needs. I can't afford to let it die, not now. Not when we're this close.”
“Still. You'd better hope he keeps his end of the bargain. You should have let me visit him and make sure he understood.”
“Yeah and let them know you're back before it's time. No, this way is best. It's got to be a last resort.”
“Whatever you say, little brother. I will return later in the year once the first part of the plan is complete. For now just keep this thing a secret and make sure it survives! This machine is critical to everything the King has planned, don't be fooled by what you hear. There are others, yes, but each one is just a piece of the larger picture and none are more or less important than the others. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Good. Let's go and take a look at it before I leave. It will be some time before I see you again.”
They heard footsteps as Hector and his brother moved away from the door, further into the mill and out of earshot. Haggart looked at the Captain who motioned him to follow him inside. They slipped through the wide open doorway and looked for somewhere to conceal themselves. The Captain clung to the wall, going around the back of the barrels that lined the interior of the building and skirted around the huge vats that bubbled ominously with fresh mead. Hector had picked up a lantern and held it up as they made their way to the hatch in the floor, leaving Haggart and the Captain in shadow. Then they climbed down and the darkness enveloped them.
“Do we follow?” Haggart whispered into his ear.
“No, let's get as close as we can and wait for them to leave. Then we'll go down there and see what they've been up to.”
They crept along the walls, careful not to cause the planking to creak beneath their feet, and made their way towards the opening. Half an hour passed before Hector reappeared, his brother behind him. They muttered something to each other, then left, locking the door behind them.
“We'll wait a bit longer. They might come back,” said the Captain, settling onto a sack of hops. Haggart did the same.
“I didn't know Hector's brother was still alive,” said Haggart.
“Neither did I. But here he is and he's involved somehow.”
“He said that it wasn't the only one - that there are more of them. And who is the King?”
“I don't have a clue but I'm sure we'll find out sooner or later. It was a good decision to come back here, Haggart. There's something going on and we've stumbled on to it. Let's just hope we're in time enough to do something about it.”
They waited in the darkness until they were sure Hector wasn't coming back. Then Haggart felt his way towards the hatch, found the iron rung and lifted it open. With his free hand he summoned a pale blue light and cast it down into the cellar where it splashed across the walls. Then he descended the ladder, the Captain close behind him.
“That's it then, isn't it?” he asked when they were both at the bottom. It hadn't moved since the last time and its sickly green light still throbbed and pulsed from its centre. The only changes were the tubes which had previously dangled lifelessly at its sides but which now hung in mid air, pulsing with its body.
“Yes,” said Haggart.
“Then we were right – it is one of those... things. But what's that?”
The Captain pointed to the only tube which wasn't in the ai
r, the only one trailing around the back of the machine into the darkness not touched by the jade light. Haggart took a wide arc around the thing, skirting along the chiselled walls until he could see where it led.
“Captain - look!” Haggart gasped. The opening was wider at its end like an enormous funnel and someone was writhing out of it, clawing the ground with bloody fingertips to try and escape it's hold. Haggart rushed over and took both of the man's hands and pulled, trying to free him as the tube sucked noisily at him from the waist down. The man had been gagged but his eyes screamed out the immense pain he was suffering as Haggart tried to free him from it. The Captain took hold of the tube and tried to pull it away but it bucked in his hands, trying to throw him off like a giant serpent. Still the machine pulsed and hummed until finally the tube went loose and Haggart fell backwards, dragging the man with him. The hands which had gripped his own so tightly in a desperate plea for rescue suddenly went limp and Haggart saw that the man was dead. He looked past his face, locked in his final expression of agony, and stared open-mouthed at the man's waist which still bore the marks of having been bitten in half. His legs were gone and his organs – those which hadn't been sucked out from inside him – were hanging loosely on the stone floor, oddly bloodless.
“It was... eating him...” managed the Captain as they both stared in horror at the poor dead man.
“We have to destroy it,” said Haggart, gathering his courage. “Somehow it has to die.”
“But how? We struggled even when we had a catapult!”
“I don't know. I just know we have to.” The machine was still pulsing and Haggart looked around the room for anything that might put an end to it. Then he realised the obvious solution. “The mead,” he said. “We'll burn it into oblivion.”
“Pile those boxes up around it,” said the Captain. “Quickly!”
In a matter of minutes the machine was almost hidden behind anything they found that could burn and Haggart brought a barrel down from the mill and began dousing the broken crates in the stuff.
“What a waste,” said the Captain but the mood in the cellar refused to lighten. Once they were satisfied that they'd made it flammable enough, they retreated back up the ladder and began emptying more containers down the hatch.
“Grab the door,” said Haggart as he punctured casks with the end of a crowbar. The Captain felt his way along the wall once more, reached the door and held it open.
“Hurry up and light it – we won't have long before they realise.”
Haggart placed his hand over the hatch, conjuring a ball of orange flame which swept down the ladder and set the floor ablaze. From the light of the inferno he ran to the Captain and together they fled the mill, scrambling back up the valley wall and into the darkness of the woods. As they reached their horses they saw the tongues of flame licking up at the night's sky and, mounting their steeds, sped back to the road and in the direction of home.
3.
“The only form of drunkenness permitted in the King's own Cavalry is the intoxication of the soul with the blessed liquor of victory. Drink deep and drink often of this revitalising draft and turn your back on the lesser, unrewarding vice of the bottle. One will grant you immortality, the other will guarantee your death.”
- The Cavalryman's Primer
Haggart and the Captain had returned before first light, creeping into the stables and then through the back door of the pub. It was a long day after that, neither wishing to arouse suspicion by taking to their beds and so they began their routines as usual, dog-tired and still reeling from what they'd seen in the cellar. It was another memory, another sharp, brutal image to take with them to the grave, witnesses to a death that seemed so undeserved.
“Surely that man would have been missed by now,” said the Captain as they prepared breakfast for three passing traders who'd arrived during the night on their way to the port.
“Maybe they'd taken him from the road, kidnapped him for the sake of feeding that bloody thing. Maybe he was sold to them by one of the ships at port or taken from the brigs. I don't think they would have risked murdering a local who would be looked for.”
“This is true,” said the Captain. “But it saddens me to think who he might have left behind. Still, for him the suffering is over and that machine is dead.”
“We hope,” said Haggart.
“Hope? Do you think it could have survived? You heard the mill collapse on top of the thing, it couldn't have been in one piece after that.”
“Like I said, let's just hope so, eh?”
It was one of Hector's mill workers who came in to the 'Helm' later on that day to tell them what had happened. Haggart and the Captain were playing a game of chess when he came in with several casks that had survived the blaze and they listened intently as he explained all to Harry behind the bar.
“Was it an accident, then?” asked Harry once he could get a word in edge-ways.
“Hector thinks it was, though nobody has seen him since it happened. He's took to his house and refuses to come out, he has the Foreman do his bidding now.”
The Captain didn't look up from the game. Instead he pondered the Bishop that looked poised to trap his King. Without moving his head, he said to the mill worker, “What will we do for mead?”
“Hector hopes to have the mill running again by the end of next week, but it'll be another two before the first batch is brewed.”
“Tell him if he needs any help, we're right here.” Haggart raised an eyebrow at the Captain but followed his lead none the less.
“Hector will appreciate that,” said the worker. “I'll be sure to pass the message on.”
“Was anyone hurt?” asked Haggart.
“Thankfully every one was in their beds at the time. Everyone is accounted for.”
“That's good to hear,” remarked the Captain. “Mead can be made again. People can't.”
The mill worker raised his mug and toasted the pithy saying. “Here here,” he said and drank.
Once he'd had his lunch, the mill worker explained how he was on his way to the next town to order lumber for the rebuilding of the mill. Then, downing his glass of mead as if it might be his last, he bid the room goodbye and mounted his horse, disappearing down the road.
“Well?” asked the Captain, declaring his loss as a Rook slid alongside his King.
“Sounds like he doesn't want it known that the fire was deliberate,” said Haggart. “So what now?”
“We wait. Let the story have its day before we leave for the City.”
“You're satisfied it's the right move?”
“The last three weren't but I assume you're talking about going to the City and not this game? Yes, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. We need to go, I’ve not changed my mind. In fact, after seeing that machine I'm even more convinced it's the right thing to do.” He began clearing away the pieces while the Captain waved Harry to bring him another mug. Lorrie was helping behind the bar, pouring drinks and collecting the empty ones. The doors opened and Talbert came in, ordering a mug and some lunch before joining them near the fire.
“Well done, boy. We still have a pub,” said Haggart.
“Was there any doubt?” said Talbert a little too loudly. “You have no faith in me. How did it go, by the way?”
Haggart hissed at him to keep his voice down knowing that only Talbert would be capable of blowing the whole thing with his mouth. “Sorry,” he said.
“We think we've managed to destroy it,” whispered the Captain. “But Hector is telling everyone it was just an accident. A worker from the mill came in just before you and said he's took to his house and refuses to leave.”
“So was it what you thought it was?”
“We're sure. It was feeding when we got there,” said Haggart, shuddering at the memory.
“Well, I for one am glad to see the back of that Courier. He wouldn't shut up the entire trip, going on about what he'd done, what fights he'd been in, how many people he'd killed. I
didn't believe half of it, truth be told. Just sounded like a braggart to me.”
It was the Captain's turn to raise a brow at Talbert's complaint and Haggart laughed.
“Sounds familiar,” he said.
“I don't sound like that. When was the last time I bragged about anything?” said Talbert looking stung.
“Last Tuesday you told that noble how you'd killed his cousin with your bare hands. The day before that, you told those travellers how you'd managed to shoot a man through his plate armour even though you've never met a man in plate armour before. Then you told those women...”
“Fine, fine. Okay, but you should have heard this guy though – he was in line for village fool if you ask me.”
“Did he get off okay?” asked the Captain.
“Oh yeah, I think so,” said Talbert and Haggart looked up from the fire he was stoking.
“What do you mean, 'I think so'? Aren't you sure?”
“Well, I got bored so I just left him to it. He's fine, I'm sure. Besides, I was needed here.”
Haggart just shook his head and hoped Bandits hadn't killed him.
“The next time I ask you to do something, Talbert, you do it exactly as I say – understood?” snarled the Captain.
“But I...” But before he could finish, the Captain shot him a withering look and he slipped into silence.
“I wonder how Shanks is getting on?” asked Haggart. “He's not here so I guess the offer of a berth on the Mermack must have been a genuine one.”
“He did tell me he'd send word at the first port. That should come around the middle of next week,” said Talbert.
“Good. We'd better start gathering up whatever we're going to need for the journey – in secret, mind you. When the time comes we'd better say we're going to visit my family. But I don't want anyone noticing we're going armed,” said the Captain.
“We'll have to pay a visit to the crypt then?” said Haggart. “Let's hope there won't be too many repairs to make, we'd have to struggle to gather enough materials to do so.”