“But there is here,” I said. “You’ve seen the Demons, like we have. You saw the Master’s house burned down. It’s no good pretending they don’t exist. And they only punish the wicked—the Summoner said so.”
“And who are the wicked?” Mother Ryan asked. “Was your poor mother wicked when she was burned in her bed?”
For a moment I had nothing to say. It was not a story I wanted to call to mind. But I felt it was unfair of her to use it in criticism of the landsmen. I said, “It wasn’t the Demons that set fire to the castle. You told me: It was men and women of her village.”
She sighed. “And if one knew where Demons ended and men and women began, one might be more at peace.”
Much as I loved her, there were times when she didn’t make sense. Demons were Demons, people people. I was prepared to continue the argument when, after a peremptory knock, her door was opened, and Millicent came in. Although the plump one of the General’s two daughters, she was, I thought, the sourer. Wasting no time on civilities, she asked Mother Ryan, “Have you seen Ralph? The Mistress wants him.”
“I saw him at the Summoning,” Mother Ryan said.
We had also seen him on the way back, talking earnestly to Antonia. I was wondering why she didn’t mention that when Millicent turned to Paddy and me.
“What about you two?”
On the point of speaking, I saw Mother Ryan’s warning eye behind Millicent’s back. I shook my head.
Paddy said, “I thought I saw him going toward the stables.”
“The Mistress expects him to come to her after the Summoning.” Millicent pursed her lips. “I’ve been to Antonia’s room, and she’s not there.” She paused, but none of us spoke. “If you see him, tell him his mother wishes to see him, at once.” Then she left us.
• • •
On Monday morning I was up early. Ralph was making me a kite and had promised we could try it out. The weather was still unsettled, and a brisk southeasterly promised perfect conditions. I found him in the stables where we usually met, but checking the saddle of his horse. He told me he had business in the town which had to be attended to. He seemed preoccupied, but when I showed my disappointment he ruffled my hair and smiled.
“I’ve made you the kite, though. Try it on your own. If you’ve any problems, I’ll sort them out when I get back.”
I was doing as he suggested when, later in the morning, I saw Heron approaching across the carefully shaven turf of the main lawn. He was the head servant, tall and stooped, with a bony face and drooping white moustache. I guessed he was looking for one of the gardeners, but he stopped beside me.
In a creaking voice, he said, “You are required in the courtyard, young sir.”
I nodded, and concentrated on the kite. I’d had problems in getting it fully airborne, but it was now straining high against the wind. Heron repeated, “You are required in the courtyard. At once. By the General.”
I wound the kite in and followed him. General Pengelly, together with the Mistress and Rachel and Millicent, was standing by the fish pond. I had an impression that he looked strange—nervous?—but dismissed it. The Mistress’s face was blank, her lips tightly drawn.
Facing them across the pond were Mother Ryan, Antonia, and Paddy. As I joined them, the General said, “Although this does not concern you, Ben, I thought you should be present. You may go, Heron.”
Paddy looked sullen, Mother Ryan wary. I could not read Antonia’s expression. Addressing them, the General said, “You have been with us how long—two weeks? Sheriff Wilson sent you away from the Western Isles because you were not native to his territory. We have been considering your position since then. It is known to be the will of the Dark One that people should cleave to the land of their birth. Since you came from Ireland, it is right you should return to that country.”
Antonia’s face was pale. In a low voice, Mother Ryan asked: “How soon, sir?”
“At once. There is no point in delay.”
“And when does the next boat sail?”
“You will not be taken by boat. You are to go by road to a port in the north and sail from there. You must be ready to leave by two o’clock this afternoon.”
He sounded relieved to have got it over. Mother Ryan asked, “Shall we take our leave of Ralph first?”
While he hesitated, the Mistress spoke sharply. “That will not be possible. Master Ralph will be engaged in the town for the entire day.”
The two women locked gazes for a long moment, before Mother Ryan turned away. “Come, children,” she said. “We have our packing to do.”
All this had taken me by surprise. Not until this moment did I grasp that it was serious—that Mother Ryan and the girls were actually being banished from the place in which they had hitherto seemed entirely welcome. I said, “They don’t have to go to Ireland.” I caught the Mistress’s eye and quickly added, “ . . . sir. I can go back to the Western Isles as Sheriff Wilson wanted, and take them with me. He said I could.”
The General looked past me to Mother Ryan. “As you have said, you have packing to do.” He turned to me. “You will remain here, Ben.”
• • •
When I rejoined the others, in Mother Ryan’s room, she was tightening the string of her draw-bag. Her smile was warm as always, but there was unhappiness in it.
“What did they say to you?”
I was troubled, and also confused. “The General said it made no difference what Sheriff Wilson said. The will of the Dark One has to be obeyed. I said in that case I wanted to go with you, to Ireland. But he won’t let me.”
“Well, I suppose that’s no great surprise, since you’re to be the new Master.”
Her words made me wince. They echoed those of the General in refusing my request. I had an inheritance here, he had said, and responsibilities. In answer, I’d said if that were so I would do as the Sheriff suggested and go back to the Western Isles. I was thinking it might be possible to send to Ireland for them after that. The will of the Dark One had been misinterpreted once already, and if the Sheriff wanted to keep me there, his Summoner might take a different view from the General’s.
The General reluctantly agreed that a message could be sent to Sheriff Wilson, if I wished, but it would take several days to get a reply. I asked if the departure of Mother Ryan and the girls could be put off until then. The Mistress intervened before the General could respond. That was out of the question, she said. Her look registered total contempt for all males, whether Generals or Masters. The business was settled: I had better go and bid my friends good-bye.
I said to Mother Ryan, “I don’t see why you have to go today. I spoke to one of the guards who’s on dock duty. There’s a boat to Ireland from here next week. Even if it is the Dark One’s will, what difference can a few days make? We’ve been here longer than that already.”
It was Paddy who answered, bitterly. “Don’t you see it’s not the General who’s deciding? It’s her. It might be awkward for her little boy if we were allowed to stay on.”
I was puzzled. “What little boy?”
“Ralph, you idiot. It was him being soft on Antonia that got us brought here in the first place. And that’s the reason for us being sent away before he gets back.”
Mother Ryan said, “Paddy—”
“Oh, why not admit it! Antonia knows the truth. His mother was willing to overlook it as long as it wasn’t serious—just another little tidbit for him. But when he went walking with Antonia after the Summoning, instead of going to her, it was a different matter. A girl from the islands couldn’t possibly be suitable as a wife for her wonderful son, so she decided to put a stop to it. And we’re being packed off before he gets back so he doesn’t have to face any embarrassment.”
She was angry, and she was being unreasonable. I said, “But when Ralph does get back, this evening . . .”
“We’ll be gone,” Paddy said wearily. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“You’ll not have gone
far. Ralph will come for you.”
“You don’t understand.”
She spoke as though she were not just a year and a bit but ten years older. She was the one who didn’t understand. Antonia was silently staring out of the window. The prettiness I’d noticed had vanished; she looked plain and tired. I remembered her with the yellow flowers around her, saying she wouldn’t mind if she never lived anywhere else but here. I thought of all the times she had teased me too, cruelly sometimes, and even wished them back.
Mother Ryan put her arms around me. “We’ve had good days together. Now you’re growing up. You’re going to be all right. And there has to be a time for parting.”
“It won’t be for long. Ralph will bring you back.”
Her smile was weary. “Maybe. Or maybe you’ll send for us when you’ve your new house built on the isle. Take care, lovey.”
• • •
I went looking for Ralph after I saw a groom leading his horse to the stables. Eventually I discovered him in his room, an unlikely place for him to be while daylight lingered. He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
I plunged into an account of what had happened. I had no doubt that he would be indignant, and eager to put things right. But he made no move, did not even look at me, and I found myself stumbling over my words. I wound up, doggedly, “They weren’t on the road till nearly four. They can’t have gone much more than a dozen miles.”
I’d been hoping he would take me with him—had envisaged us riding together through the night until we reached them. I’d pictured Paddy’s face when she saw us. When he did finally turn to me, though, his look was blank. He said, in a closed-up kind of voice, “There’s nothing to be done. I’m sorry, Ben.”
“But there is! It was your mother’s idea to send them away, not the General’s. And she’ll let you have whatever you want; she always does. You want to marry Antonia, don’t you?”
“People can’t always have what they want. It’s something you’ll learn.”
I couldn’t believe what he was saying. “But at least you can help people you’re fond of, can’t you? Not simply stand by when they’re treated badly.”
I realized I was being reckless, even impertinent, and thought he might be angry. He swung his legs off the bed, but only said in a dull voice, “You just don’t see, Ben. You don’t think I’m happy about it, do you? But there has to be order, and rules, and people must learn to obey them. During the Madness people did as they liked, and all they got from it was murder and misery.”
“But just because your mother thinks—”
Ralph stood up. “There’s no point in discussing it. What’s done is done. Do you think there’s enough light still for me to show you a few tricks with that kite?”
I thought of the old man in the tent. “Landsmen are dogs, ready to snarl or wag tail as their masters bid them.” Masters, or mothers.
“No,” I said. “It’s too dark.”
• • •
They were nice to me at dinner. Both Millicent and Rachel went out of their way to talk to me, and even the Mistress managed a smile or two. Nothing was said of the three faces missing from the table. Ralph excused himself early, but before going he suggested we ride out to Middlebrook Farm in the morning, to see if any more cows had gone down with milk fever. Then he went to kiss his mother good-night.
The villa seemed very empty, and I went early to my room. I kept thinking Paddy would burst in or Mother Ryan call me. I wondered where they had stopped for the night, and how they were.
I tried to look on the bright side. That everyone here was being nice was confirmation of the fact of my inheritance. Once that was properly secured, things would be different. As Master, I would have power—power perhaps to bring them back to the islands. The Dark One might be the ruler of the universe, but his rulings, I was beginning to understand, were interpreted by ordinary human beings. They could make mistakes, and they could also be persuaded.
It wasn’t something that could be done straightaway, of course. It would take time. Things needed to be done in order. It might be months before I could manage it, a year maybe.
“There have to be order and rules. . . .” Suddenly and shockingly, my line of thought disgusted me. I was thinking like Ralph—like a landsman.
• • •
I slept fitfully and was awake very early. No one was about as I took Hussar from his stall, saddled, and mounted him. A few birds were beginning to call from hedgerows as I reached the fork by the mill and headed north, toward Paddy and Mother Ryan and Antonia.
I was a bit light-headed, but much happier. Reaching a hand into my pocket I touched the knife. At least I had not been such a fool as to obey that particular instruction from Ralph. I set Hussar to a canter, and something else metallic slapped against my chest. I felt inside my shirt and drew out the medallion. The symbol of my inheritance, Sheriff Wilson had said, to be kept with me always. But what was that inheritance worth, when it came attached to strings that could be pulled by Sheriff Wilson or General Pengelly—or by his wife?
Without Mother Ryan and Antonia—without Paddy—it was meaningless, a nothing. As I rode, I eased the chain over my head and held the medallion in my hand. Perhaps it had signified something to my father, but it had no value for me. Rising in the saddle, I drew back my arm and threw it as far as I could.
The day brightened, and I could see the surrounding country more clearly. To my right it was thickly wooded, but on the other side open fields stretched away. Men were already at work there; heads briefly lifted before bending again to labor. Any horseback rider must be gentry, and the ways of the gentry were beyond either their reckoning or their interest.
Not until the sun was above the trees did I see anyone on the road itself: an approaching speck which gradually became a figure. The figure was on foot, which meant there was no cause for alarm. When the traveler turned off the road and headed into the fields, I guessed it was someone from an outlying village, perhaps taking breakfast to one of the laborers.
Yet there was no one working near, and the figure’s movements seemed odd. Having distanced himself from the road, he was proceeding parallel to it. He—or she? I first saw it was a girl, and then recognized not the distant blur of features but a familiar spring in the walk. Paddy!
When I spurred toward her she began running further into the field. I called her name several times before she stopped. I slipped from the saddle, leaving reins dangling, and ran to hug her.
Interrupting one another, we exchanged explanations. She had sneaked off while the rest were asleep, not sure what she would do when she got to the villa but determined to get me away as she had done before. I simply said I’d decided to go after them. I didn’t speak of Ralph, and she asked no questions.
I led Hussar back to the road and we both got up, with Paddy in the saddle and me perched awkwardly in front. With such a load we could look for no better than walking pace, but Paddy said the wagon’s progress had been still slower. They would have spent time looking for her too, and might not yet have resumed their journey north. We should have no great difficulty in catching up with them.
I asked, “What will the guards say, when you turn up with me?”
She shrugged. “We’ll tell them something.”
Her confidence was infectious, we were back together, and the morning was bright. And the guards were landsmen, used to doing as they were told. They’d been ordered to take a party north, and a fourth would make little difference.
The fields tailed away into barren land and scrub, empty of houses. On the other side, though, we spied habitation. They were screened by trees, which accounted for Paddy’s not having seen them on her journey south, but in daylight the line of covered wagons was plainly visible. Smoke rose from campfires. I heard children’s cries and a barking dog.
“Gypsies!” I whispered. Paddy nodded, urging Hussar to a slightly brisker pace. We did not appear to have been seen, and the voices soon faded, along with t
he smell of wood smoke. After a long stretch of road we were coming to a bend. I looked back, to make sure no one from the camp was following, and saw a cloud of dust in the distance.
Perhaps foolishly I had given no thought to being pursued. I was a guest, the General had said, and a guest is someone who can leave as and when he chooses. For that matter, what reason could there be for seeking to keep me against my will? It made no difference to the General who was Master of Old Isle. But I knew at once the cloud marked a troop of horse, and with equal certainty knew their mission was to capture the departing guest and take him back as a prisoner.
They were out of sight as we rounded the bend, but less than half a mile away. We scrambled off Hussar, and Paddy whacked his buttock. He whinnied in protest and galloped off. We took shelter in brush at the side of the road as Pengelly’s men cantered past.
Paddy gripped my arm. “They’ll double back when they find him riderless. Better run for it.”
It was hard and painful going. The ground rose to a ridge, then dipped toward an edge of woodland that promised better cover. That was where Paddy stumbled and fell. I helped her up and she said she was all right, but winced when she put her foot to the ground. Teeth gritted, she said, “Come on! They’ll have caught him by now.”
But she was limping badly, and we were in heavy undergrowth. I went ahead, pushing aside branches to make it easier for her. With relief I saw open space before us.
It was not until I had broken through into the clearing that I noticed something else: a man standing directly in our path, with a gun in the crook of his arm.
7
HE WAS SQUAT, NOT MUCH taller than I was, but powerfully built: broad-chested, the arm that cradled the gun strongly muscled. He wore a leather jerkin over a coarse gray shirt whose sleeves were rolled high, and leather trousers and sandals. Arms and face were dark brown from exposure to sun, and wrinkled by age and weather. He had a wide, ugly face with dark, deep-set eyes and a splayed nose, and a scar ran from his right eye to the corner of his mouth. He had shaved, but not recently: A stubble of gray beard matched the loose strands that failed to cover his brown bald head. His mouth opened in a gappy smile, but the teeth remaining were strong and white.