Robert Carter - Whitemantle

On the main street there were crowds of people hurrying this way and that, occupied, but seldom speaking to one another. A few, Will saw, were born to indulgence, rich merchants who rode upon horses and had men to clear a way for them and their well-adorned ladies. But there were many others aimless and rat-like: cut-throats, pick-pockets, dirty-faced women, some wanton, some carrying babes-in-arms the better to further their trade in pity. He melted into the crowds, meeting very few inquiring looks but following his feelings as best he could. He took bearings from glimpses of the Spire and noted the colours of the robes the Fellows wore. Grey signified the chapter house of Farring-withoutthe-Wall, the Black Robes were Fellows of Hollbourne-bythe-Spire, but others robed in white were heading westward in large numbers, as if they were required to leave the City before the curfew bells tolled.

By following the White Robes Will soon came in sight of a gate and found it was the one they called the Luddsgate. There he supposed he would meet with more unhappy dragonets, but there was a paupers’ footway that led out, just a simple passage for those carrying no goods. It stank in the heat, but a different smell assailed him once outside, for the road ran across a stout bridge, and below it stretched brown mud banks between which the waters of a tributary ran. When Will looked down it towards the Iesis he was amazed to see that the level of the river had dropped right down. He hurried on, and soon he saw serjeants-at-law by the dozen sitting around the Inns at Linton Greene. They all wore gowns of dark green, and they had long, green-dyed feathers in their caps, which Will knew showed the number of their successes. Gwydion had told him how all lawyers had been compelled by a king of old to dress in this fashion in order that common men might know the greatest of villains on sight.

Will went on again, leaving behind the steeples of the Inns, then past the lordly houses of Arandel, Mells and Southfolk, until an almost unseen figure passed close by and crossed his path, pulling him suddenly into a doorway.

His aura flared green and he threw up a self-protective hand, but immediately he felt it seized and bent down hard in a grasp that forced him to his knees.

‘Agh!’

‘You fool!’

‘Master Gwydion!’

‘Shhh!’ The wizard’s eyes accused him. ‘Now that was a fool’s errand was it not?’

Will understood but was unrepentant. He shook himself out of the wizard’s now-relaxing grip. ‘You have your errands and I have mine. Were you watching when we fell? Did you see what happened to Chlu?’

‘I saw the pair of you lighting up the entire City with your rude magic.’

‘I didn’t do it on purpose. I was falling to my death.’

‘And every Fellow within a dozen leagues must have turned his head upward when you leapt off that vane.’

‘I didn’t leap, I fell.’

‘You should not have been up there in the first place.’

Will felt anger churning inside and stabbed a finger at the wizard. ‘Don’t you tell me what I should and should not be doing! I was following my feelings.’

‘Oh, dangerous man! It would be better for you if you got far away from the City now. The Fellows are very greatly roused up and most unhappy with you!’

‘I don’t care about them. And I’m not running away.’ He reached out and prevented Gwydion from turning aside. ‘I asked you if you saw Chlu fall. Did you?’

Gwydion’s face was granite as he looked down at the presumptuous hand on his sleeve. ‘Chlu came down on the far side of the Spire. I cannot say what happened to him.’

Despite his anger, Will wanted to tell the wizard all that had passed, but he could see Gwydion was in no mood to receive complicated news. Instead he demanded, ‘Where are Willow and Bethe?’

‘Safe.’

‘I said “where?” Answer me fully now, Master Gwydion, or I swear—’

‘At the palace. Do you remember Jackhald, who helped us raise the Blood Stone from the well at Ludford? He’s been made captain of the guard here. He’s agreed to find you lodging.’

‘Well, that’s something at least.’

‘But no thanks to you. Follow me, for we have work to do.’

Will pulled up short again, his hotness cooling. ‘Master Gwydion, that’s not the way to the White Hall.’

‘Indeed it is not.’

‘Then I’m not going that way. I know the importance of your work as well as anyone, but it’s as I’ve told you, I have one or two errands of my own, and the first of them is to see my wife and child!’

Three days later, on the day of Duke Richard’s arrival, Will announced his intention to go down to Luddsgate to see the duke’s army make its triumphal entry into Trinovant. Willow said she wanted to come and insisted that she would bring Bethe too.

Will agreed only reluctantly. He was worried that another attack might be mounted. In the time since their encounter on the Spire nothing more had been seen or heard of Chlu, but in quiet moments when Will turned his mind towards the City he could feel an ache in his bones. It told him that his twin was alive and nursing malice somewhere within the walls.

Willow had already told Gwydion of Will’s plan to go down to see the arrival. Now she went further, suggesting that the wizard should break off his single-minded search for Maskull’s magic tower and come along also. ‘Surely,’ she said, ‘it’ll be helpful to take note of which nobles are riding alongside Duke Richard in the parade. Shouldn’t you see what order of precedence they come in?’

The wizard was about to say something in reply, but then he stared at her hard, as if reading another intent in her request.

‘Willand’s drawn,’ Gwydion said. ‘And you feel that in him, don’t you?’

‘ Drawn? What on earth do you mean, Master Gwydion?’

‘Drawn towards the City, or more precisely someone at present biding his time out there. Does it not worry you, the prospect of another quarrel? Another bolt from the blue? I think it should. Though it will be something else next time.’

‘Will’s already thought about that,’ she said, shutting the idea out and replacing it with another notion – that perhaps not all of the harm that had flowed from the magic bracelets and into the wizard’s wrists had been emptied from him, for he seemed darker and wearier than ever before. ‘Now, are you staying or coming?’

Now that the last moment had come, Gwydion decided he would indeed accompany them into the City. They took a small river boat which rowed them to the Saltwharf Steps. After landing, they went up the slope towards Luddsgate, just managing to avoid the Spire precincts, and pressed in with everyone else who had lined the route.

Thousands of people had come from all parts of the City. They filled the streets, crowding upon balconies and even climbing up to roof-ridges and chimney stacks to see the great Duke of Ebor admitted through the Luddsgate.

The gate itself, Will saw, was a broad tower of limestone banded with Slaver brick and carved with the achievements of the kings of old, just as the Eldersgate was carved with northern dragons. Gwydion explained, ‘The duke has chosen to enter Trinovant by its grandest gate as a reminder to all the inhabitants where their loyalties ought to lie. It was upon the timbers of this great portal that the burgesses of the City, bare months ago, nailed a daring proclamation.’

‘What did it proclaim?’ Will asked.

‘They bravely declared all the gates of Trinovant barred against the return of their own king – until “redress and remedy” might be found for the duke concerning the king’s actions in besieging him at Ludford Castle.’