The Devil in Green (47 page)

'Blaine said something along those lines. What's going on?'

'We're under siege,' Gardener said.

'The kind of things we saw out on the Plain have moved into the city,'
Daniels added. 'Every night they're roaming around the walls, sometimes
during the day as well. Anybody who goes out doesn't come back.'

'Blaine said I was lucky to get back here.'

'He's right there, man,' Gardener noted.
'I
just watched them send out
three Blues. They didn't make it to the end of the street. There was
something out there like dirty washing lying in the road. It came up,
flapping around, like, and they all fell apart. Just like that. All fell apart. I
tell you, it made me sick to see it.'

'But they say the things don't touch any of the city people at all during
the day. Most of the time, folk can just go about their business . . . though
they're giving the cathedral compound a wide berth,' Daniels said. 'At
night, it's a different matter, though. Anything's fair game then.'

'Something's going on,' Mallory said. 'I don't believe that cleric we were
following across the Plain was real at all. When
I
saw his face, it looked as if
it was
. . .
made up or something. I reckon it was a setup from the start, to
lead us to Bratton Camp.'

'Why?' Daniels said. 'So we'd get attacked by that thing?'

'I
don't know. I've just got a gut feeling we've only seen the tip of the
iceberg.'

Before leaving the infirmary, Gardener and Mallory visited Miller. The
younger knight was sleeping peacefully. Warwick had patched him up, but
he'd lost a lot of blood and he'd need several days' recuperation.

'You did a good job bringing him in,' Gardener said. 'Couldn't have
been easy, the state he was in.'

'I need somebody to be my conscience,' Mallory replied. 'Was it hard
getting Daniels back?'

'He was in a bit of a bad way . . . you know.' He pointed to his temple.
'Losing the eye hit him hard. It'd get any of us, wouldn't it? But he's a
good bloke, Daniels, for a poof. He's got a good heart. He'd stand by you
when times were hard, and that's all you really need in a mate, isn't it?'

Mallory couldn't disagree. But as he made his way back to his crib, his
relief at the four of them surviving was already obscured by his growing
worry that unseen events were taking place behind the scenes, with
repercussions for all of them.

*

Blaine left Mallory alone for the remainder of the day. It gave him time to
gain some respite from the dull ache throbbing through his body. He ate a
bland lunch of vegetable stew in the refectory and noticed that the portions
were all markedly smaller. If they were truly under siege, supplies would
have to be conserved. He made no attempt to go to any of the services,
relishing his disobedience like a boy skipping school; it was a small victory
against the oppressive order, but it made him feel good nonetheless.
Instead, he chose to dwell on his growing anger, not only with Blaine, but
also with the higher Church authorities that had conspired in making what
had been a simple exchange
-
work for food and board - into a thoroughly
unpleasant experience. With enthusiasm, he began to plot ways in which
he could get his own back.

He took supper with Gardener and was surprised to find two weeks had
passed since they had set off on their mission, although he had only
seemed to spend a few brief hours in the Court of Peaceful Days. It made
him feel disoriented.

One other thing troubled him: the cleric who had wandered into the
cathedral that night, setting them on their search for his missing colleague,
was now missing himself. Since their last conversation, Gardener had
found out that the cleric had spent the night in the infirmary, but in the
morning his bed was empty. Common opinion suggested that he had
wandered off in a daze, possibly to search for his friend, but the guards at
the gate claimed that no one had exited the compound all night. Blaine had
punished them anyway. It only confirmed Mallory's fears that they had
been set up from the start, but why would such an elaborate plan have
been put in motion just to entice a few knights into the danger zone?

After supper, Gardener invited Mallory to stand watch over the gates so he
could see for himself what was happening. The mid-October night held a
brittle cold and was suffused with the smell of wood-smoke from home
fires. On the walkway running around the inside of the wall, Mallory felt a
strange frisson looking out on to a city without a single electric light
burning. Only a few flickering candles glowed like fireflies in the night. Yet
the ghostly light cast by the full moon when it broke from the cloud cover
was brighter and more affecting than any street lamp.

Duncan, the captain of the guards, was a middle-aged bearded man
with a thick Birmingham accent. He met them deferentially as they walked
to a position near the gates. His attitude reminded Mallory of the respect
with which the knights were treated throughout the cathedral, but
particularly amongst the guards who knew exactly what they had to
endure under Blaine's leadership.

'I could swear it's colder in winter since the Fall. Do you remember the
snow last Christmas?' Gardener said as they leaned on the top of the wall,
looking out across the city. Their breath clouded, and they had their cloaks
pulled around them for warmth.

'That's all we need - a new ice age,' Mallory replied.

'What time does it start?' Gardener asked Duncan.

'They're already out there.' Duncan indicated several points along the
street, in doorways and deep shadows, but Mallory could see nothing.
'They're like sentries - there all day and night.'

Mallory couldn't understand how he had got past them; had they
let
him
into the cathedral, and if so, why? Gardener sensed what he was thinking.
'Daniels and me came in too,' he said. 'Don't ask me what's going on.
Anybody else that tries to get in or out gets both barrels.'

'The other things come at various points during the dark hours,'
Duncan continued. 'They try to break down the walls
.
. . cause a bit of
damage, but never manage anything too serious.'

'That doesn't make any sense,' Mallory said. 'The things we saw out on
Salisbury Plain would be in here in no time.'

'They are kept out by the power of the Lord.' Julian, the bishop's right-
hand man had come up behind them. He'd tied his long black hair into a
ponytail, but that only served to emphasise the worry and exhaustion in his
features. 'Or the power of faith, or whatever you want to call it.'

'Magic?' Mallory suggested mischievously.

Julian didn't appear offended. 'Just words,' he said dismissively.
'Different ways of describing the same thing. Whatever you choose, in
this new age the power of prayer and ritual has a dramatic and instant
effect. Sacred land becomes empowered. Those things can't set foot
within the cathedral compound.'

Mallory thought for a second. 'But why are they
trying
to get into the
cathedral?'