know."
The countess was even more bewildered. How could he know about that? How could he even know about Corotocus's deception? Word of the disaster would travel, but she had come straight here, walking stiff and lame like one dead, but tarrying neither to talk with folk nor to look back over her shoulder. She'd taken short routes through dark woods and hidden valleys that were known only to a chosen few. As her anger ebbed, the countess was increasingly aware of the mystery in this strange, subterranean realm. Its ceiling was speckled with a million tiny lights, like stars in a miniature cosmos. The images on the walls appeared to have moved or changed since she had first seen them. The air was heavy with intoxicating fragrance.
"M-my daughter is all that matters to me," she stammered. "I won't stand by and allow her to be abducted."
"And yet there's nothing you can do. Most of your own warriors went to serve Madog or Anwyl... and now lie slain."
"Can you help me?"
"Ahhh, so we get to the crux of it."
"Don't play games with me, Gwyddon! You know why I'm here."
"It will cost you."
"Cost me?"
"We have no country, Countess Madalyn. No sense of people. Your plight is unfortunate, but of no great concern to us. If your nation was driven en masse to the chopping block and beheaded one by one, my chief regret would be the waste of so much sacrificial blood."
"And how much will it cost me?" She appraised the gold moon-crescent pendant on his breast, the gem-encrusted rings on his fingers, the silver dragon-head pin clasping his robe. "I'd imagine the greater the supplicant, the higher the price?"
"How much do you offer, countess?"
"If you can guarantee the safe return of my daughter..." She faltered briefly, but steeled herself. "If you can guarantee the safe return of my daughter, and the destruction of Earl Corotocus... I will give you half my wealth, half my lands. And protection for you and your sect for as long as there's breath in my body."
He smiled thinly. "Not enough."
At first Countess Madalyn thought she'd misheard. Only in fables and folklore had such a reward been offered.
"Not nearly enough," he added.
"You ask me to beggar myself?"
"I ask nothing of the kind. You can keep your earthly goods, if they mean so much to you."
"In God's name, what do you want?"
He pursed his lips, which, now that she was close to him, looked redder than blood. "No more, countess, and no less than an equal share in the power your victory will bring."
"Power? I seek only the return of my daughter."
"And the destruction of an English marcher lord."
"I only ask that because I know I'll have no choice."
"Countess Madalyn, you will have no choice come what may. If Earl Corotocus dies they'll send someone else, and you'll need to destroy him as well. And the one after that. And the one after that."
"What are you asking... that I start a full-scale war?"
"How many more of your villages must they burn? How many people must they hang? Full-scale war is already upon you."
"The uprising has been crushed with horrendous loss of life. If I were to start another now, it would mean an apocalypse for Wales and its people."
"Your people need only a leader - a proper leader. Someone fearless and respected. You could fill that role, countess. Just as Boudicca did twelve centuries ago. The difference is that, unlike Boudicca, you will have me - and I will ensure that the apocalypse falls on England."
"How?" she asked.
"Allow me to show you."
CHAPTER FIVE
Doctor Zacharius was born the younger son of a wealthy merchant in Bristol.
Initially, he did not promise much, though this only lasted a short time. Despite an indolent youth and an alarming lack of interest in the family shipwright business, he soon showed an aptitude for learning. In response to this, his father sent him to a monastery, so that he could train for the priesthood. But, in various ways, Zacharius blotted his copybook with the holy fathers, and, after much
The countess was even more bewildered. How could he know about that? How could he even know about Corotocus's deception? Word of the disaster would travel, but she had come straight here, walking stiff and lame like one dead, but tarrying neither to talk with folk nor to look back over her shoulder. She'd taken short routes through dark woods and hidden valleys that were known only to a chosen few. As her anger ebbed, the countess was increasingly aware of the mystery in this strange, subterranean realm. Its ceiling was speckled with a million tiny lights, like stars in a miniature cosmos. The images on the walls appeared to have moved or changed since she had first seen them. The air was heavy with intoxicating fragrance.
"M-my daughter is all that matters to me," she stammered. "I won't stand by and allow her to be abducted."
"And yet there's nothing you can do. Most of your own warriors went to serve Madog or Anwyl... and now lie slain."
"Can you help me?"
"Ahhh, so we get to the crux of it."
"Don't play games with me, Gwyddon! You know why I'm here."
"It will cost you."
"Cost me?"
"We have no country, Countess Madalyn. No sense of people. Your plight is unfortunate, but of no great concern to us. If your nation was driven en masse to the chopping block and beheaded one by one, my chief regret would be the waste of so much sacrificial blood."
"And how much will it cost me?" She appraised the gold moon-crescent pendant on his breast, the gem-encrusted rings on his fingers, the silver dragon-head pin clasping his robe. "I'd imagine the greater the supplicant, the higher the price?"
"How much do you offer, countess?"
"If you can guarantee the safe return of my daughter..." She faltered briefly, but steeled herself. "If you can guarantee the safe return of my daughter, and the destruction of Earl Corotocus... I will give you half my wealth, half my lands. And protection for you and your sect for as long as there's breath in my body."
He smiled thinly. "Not enough."
At first Countess Madalyn thought she'd misheard. Only in fables and folklore had such a reward been offered.
"Not nearly enough," he added.
"You ask me to beggar myself?"
"I ask nothing of the kind. You can keep your earthly goods, if they mean so much to you."
"In God's name, what do you want?"
He pursed his lips, which, now that she was close to him, looked redder than blood. "No more, countess, and no less than an equal share in the power your victory will bring."
"Power? I seek only the return of my daughter."
"And the destruction of an English marcher lord."
"I only ask that because I know I'll have no choice."
"Countess Madalyn, you will have no choice come what may. If Earl Corotocus dies they'll send someone else, and you'll need to destroy him as well. And the one after that. And the one after that."
"What are you asking... that I start a full-scale war?"
"How many more of your villages must they burn? How many people must they hang? Full-scale war is already upon you."
"The uprising has been crushed with horrendous loss of life. If I were to start another now, it would mean an apocalypse for Wales and its people."
"Your people need only a leader - a proper leader. Someone fearless and respected. You could fill that role, countess. Just as Boudicca did twelve centuries ago. The difference is that, unlike Boudicca, you will have me - and I will ensure that the apocalypse falls on England."
"How?" she asked.
"Allow me to show you."
CHAPTER FIVE
Doctor Zacharius was born the younger son of a wealthy merchant in Bristol.
Initially, he did not promise much, though this only lasted a short time. Despite an indolent youth and an alarming lack of interest in the family shipwright business, he soon showed an aptitude for learning. In response to this, his father sent him to a monastery, so that he could train for the priesthood. But, in various ways, Zacharius blotted his copybook with the holy fathers, and, after much
Similar Books
Havana Fever
Leonardo Padura
One Reckless Night
Sara Craven
The Shadow’s Curse
Amy McCulloch
A Midwife Crisis
Lisa Cooke
The Parting Glass
Emilie Richards
The Usurper
John Norman
Headscarves and Hymens
Mona Eltahawy