“We can’t keep going like this” Sir Ewan slumped down into a chair as they finally got back to the Templars’ Chapter House. “The numbers are too much.”
Dave and Luke dropped down into chairs opposite him. Sir Craig followed them, working his right shoulder. “It’s not sustainable. We have people out every night, and every night we find a fight. And it’s always a leader and seven revenants. And they’re getting tougher. It’s only a matter of time before someone get badly hurt, or worse.”
“It’s always seven, with one leader.” Luke inspected his battered knuckles. “And they are getting stronger. I’m not trained for this.”
Dave looked worried. “I’m not trained for this either. And their tactics seem to be improving.”
“At least we know if we have got all of them in the pack.” Sir Ewan looked up as Sir Curtis came in, bringing in a tray of sandwiches and some flasks and yawning. “Thanks.”
“Was it as bad tonight?” Sir Curtis asked. He stroked absently over his bruised face.
“It was bad,” Sir Craig said, “but we all got home. It’s nearly dawn. Go and get some sleep.”
Dave watched Sir Curtis leave. “Are there any more reinforcements we can get?”
Sir Craig shook his head. “There are few enough Knights Templar, and there is a lot of ground to cover. I’ll see if I can’t get some more paladins over.”
“If they can be spared,” Sir Ewan said. “Most of them have enough to keep them busy in their own patches.”
“Mike Doyle may be able to come over from the Village,” Sir Craig started pouring tea into the mugs.
“But he has a pregnant wife,” Luke said quietly. “It’s hard to ask him to leave that.”
“We are out of options,” Sir Craig said. “Mike knows that Karen will be safe.”
“To be fair, Kieran is helping out a lot,” Dave said. “And so are the people from the White Hart. I don’t know what we would do without them.”
“Don’t get carried away,” Sir Craig said, passing out the drinks. “This trouble is coming directly from Lord Ragnar’s domain. It is their fault.”
There was a quiet pause as the men ate the stack of tuna sandwiches and drank the tea. Dave finally broke the silence. “How can we get Lord Ragnar to act? It must be hurting him as much as us.”
“He can’t act,” Sir Craig said. “And that adds an interesting twist. Freydis could sort it out, but he won’t allow her into the domain to fix it. He hasn’t got the skill to fix it himself. In fact, there are precious few that do. Kieran is furious with Lord Ragnar now because his pack has been affected and if he hadn’t defied Lord Ragnar and allowed Freydis to heal his pack members then they would still be in a bad way.”
“Miss Patience is furious with him because he won’t order Dean to join with her and he won’t order Martin to repair the wall he broke,” Sir Ewan added. “Dean is hiding out at the White Hart and Lord Ragnar won’t push there in case it upsets Kadogan. Besides, Lord Ragnar can’t make Martin do anything, and everyone knows it. I think Martin is shielding Dean and deliberately not paying for the wall to wind Miss Patience up.”
“It’s working,” Sir Craig said. “She’s incandescent. And she must be scared. I made some enquiries about Martin, back in Lincoln. He is an old vampire. He’s been around for thousands of years and he doesn’t give a damn. There is nothing Miss Patience can do to bring him to heel and it affects the leadership of her little group. He’s not in the Order’s good books either. He’s a predator. He feeds mainly on people. But he’s clever. He’ll seduce and entrap someone vulnerable, absolutely bewitch them, feed from them exquisitely gently – and I believe it blows their minds – then leave them after around six months, before they get too dependent. The trouble is, he leaves them nicely. They’re always better off financially or he sorts out a job for them or he deals with their family’s troubles or something. We have never been able to get anyone to make a statement against him, and I’m not sure whether we would be able to take him down without half the Templars here. He goes into a ‘dream state’ quite often though, which is a blessing, so he’s only around for fifty years or so at a time, with a few exceptions, and he usually sleeps around a decade. He’s been dormant for a century or so, though, up until now, so Lincoln had hoped he had disappeared for good.”
“Perhaps he will take over from Lord Ragnar,” Sir Ewan stifled a yawn and picked up another sandwich. “Lord Ragnar was nearly unseated last year. Now Freydis isn’t at his side, it’s only a matter of time.”
“Most of the opposition was wiped out in last year’s attempt and I am not sure that there is an external threat ready. Lord Ragnar is shaky, but surely not that weak.” Sir Craig looked at Dave and Sir Ewan.
“Lord Ragnar had not upset the werewolves last year,” Sir Ewan said. “He also had all of the vampires, such as they are, on his side. Kadogan is still loyal, but other elfen are asking questions about the state of the domain.” He took another large bite of his sandwich.
“Do you think Martin would take over?” Luke asked. “I mean, I know he’s a vampire, and you say he’s a predator, but he has to be better than the current state. I mean, if anyone takes over from Lord Ragnar. He seems more stable.”
“Martin has always avoided power, at least, according to the stuff we managed to dig up at Lincoln,” Sir Craig said. “And practically anyone is more stable than an elfen who doubts the loyalty of those around him, is losing control of his domain and who is suffering from unrequited love.”
Dave stared. “Who is he in love with?”
“He’s in love with Freydis,” Sir Craig said, pouring some more tea.
“But he divorced her,” Dave said. “And she’s still in love with him.”
“Yes.” Sir Craig took a mouthful of tea.
“That’s not unrequited love,” Dave said. “It’s requited love. It’s there-for-the-taking love.”
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“That’s the elfen for you,” Sir Craig said.
“Hang on,” Dave said as a thought struck him. “How many vampires are there in York?”
Sir Ewan poured himself some more tea. “Apart from Martin? Miss Patience has a group of six.”
“Does that include Dean?” Dave asked. Sir Ewan shook his head.
Sir Craig leaned forward. “So all Miss Patience has to do is get hold of Dean and she is the leader of a group of seven, just like those revenants we are seeing night after night.”
There was a long pause as the men tried to work through the implications. Luke shifted uneasily in his chair. “How easy is it to make a vampire?”
Ian dropped Jeanette off at the front of the White Hart before driving the van to the back. Jeanette came in looking pale.
Fiona gave her a sympathetic smile. “How are things? Has Steve spoken to you?”
Jeanette took a deep breath. “Ian said he can go there tonight with Steve and put up magical protection so we can get back there safely. He said that there were a few traces, but nothing too serious. He said he would ask Darren to say some prayers before they started.”
“Darren is a fearsome prayer warrior,” Freydis said. “I am sure that he will clear out undue influences. Steve Adderson is also known as an extremely competent sorcerer, strong enough to impress the elfen. You will have safe space.”
Jeanette smiled wanly. “Thanks.” She looked closer at Freydis. “Are you feeling okay?”
It was a good question. The golden blonde hair still swirled in lustrous swathes around Freydis’ face and shoulders, but it was a darker shade that edged towards the honey gold. Her eyes were no longer the purest summer blue but now were blue grey and while she was still slim, her figure was slightly fuller. The jeans were still tight, and still a fake designer brand, but they were a darker shade of denim and she was wearing a loose t-shirt instead of a buttoned shirt. Freydis shrugged. “I feel a change of season in the air.”
Mrs Tuesday looked at her carefully. “Are you missing Lord Ragnar?”
Freydis seemed to sag a little and her hair was suddenly dull and lifeless. “He is on the path to destruction and I do not know how to save him. He is my sun but there are clouds.”
“Have you spoken to him?” Mrs Tuesday asked.
Freydis shook her head. “He will not allow me to approach him in private. I have tried being an independent and strong woman with a life of my own, and it has failed. I have lost what I did not believe I had, and I cannot defend that which I forgot to cherish.” She bowed her head. Jeanette watched her claw like hands, grasping the back of the chair until the knuckles turned white, smooth themselves and fill out and her hair once again fill with shining health as she pulled herself up and forced a smile. “But there are still safe places such as the White Hart, and soon your small holding shall be protected. Indeed, perhaps I will bless your fields, Jeanette, once this is over.”
“That would be an amazing honour,” Jeanette said, though she wasn’t exactly sure what the result of such a blessing would be. “I think that would make it glorious.”
“A small recompense for your troubles,” Freydis said, going back to the coffee machine and stroking the coloured grasses still surrounding it.
“I admit, I never thought I would get so caught up in all this,” Jeanette waved a vague hand around the shop. “I wasn’t sure I even believed in this stuff, and if I hadn’t met Callum at that craft fair, I’m not sure that I would believe in it now.”
“Are you sorry that you met us?” Jasmine asked. “I mean, I know you like Ian, but having all of us in your house and it all being, well, full of werewolf? Are you okay with that?”
Jeanette took a breath and looked Jasmine directly in the eye. “Come here.” Jasmine edged closer, giving a panicked glance at Mrs Tuesday, before gasping as Jeanette grabbed her in a massive hug. “I am not sure about all this magic stuff, and I don’t understand half of it, but if I had my time again I would never, ever, miss the chance of knowing Ian, of having you and Adele like sisters and Callum like a brother, of knowing the people. You are wonderful.” Jasmine went pink.
“I wish I had realised that.”
Fiona turned around and forced a smile. “Hello, Elaine. What can I do for you?”
Elaine wandered towards the café. “I thought I would grab a latte and perhaps catch up with Steve. Is he in?”
“No,” Fiona said.
Elaine waited for a few beats, just in case Fiona added anything. “Is he likely to be back soon?”
“No.” Fiona checked over the notes next to the till. “Okay, ladies, we have a double coach booked to arrive in around half an hour. It’s all non-normals who are expecting a fancy afternoon tea, so let’s get set up.”
Freydis was smiling with outright malice as she created Elaine’s latte. “I believe you enjoy a shot of vanilla in there.”
“Yes,” Elaine said, surprised that Freydis had guessed that.
“I’ll try and remember to put one in next time,” Freydis said. “I’ll try really hard. Mrs Tuesday, please could you keep an eye on the Machine. I need to bring up some more of the new Ethiopian blend.”
Martin found Freydis sitting under a tree in Tower Gardens looking over the River Ouse. It was nearly midnight but still warm and the soft breeze was soothing. He sat next to her. “You have changed, my lady.”
Freydis managed a smile. “I am no longer a lady, remember. Lord Ragnar divorced me.”
“You are always my lady,” Martin said.
“And I can never give you hope.” Freydis turned her gaze back to the river to watch the nixies playing in the currents.
“Do you know what gives me hope? That you never give me hope.” Martin didn’t follow Freydis’ gaze but instead watched her expression. “If you did not care for me at all, you would dangle me on a string.”
“You are too powerful,” Freydis didn’t turn towards him.
“You had many princes eating out of your hand,” Martin said. “You bewitched great sorcerers and kings.”
Freydis shrugged. “It was a game to them as much as it was to me. Perhaps I am an honest fairy.”
“And I come back to the start of the conversation. You have changed, my lady, and I don’t know how. You have an extra depth. It is enchanting.”
Freydis finally turned her head and looked at Martin. She smiled. “You do not need to flatter me, Martin.”
“I do not flatter,” Martin said. “You can ask anyone.”
Freydis turned back to the view of the River Ouse. The lights from the town glittered and sparkled on the moving water and for a moment she seemed entranced. “Lord Ragnar said he had always loved me.”
“I thought that was obvious to anyone,” Martin said. “I made me so frustrated, because he never managed to turn that love into cherishing.”
“I didn’t think he loved me and I tried to make him jealous,” Freydis said.
“Leading to the mess with that young vampire last year,” Martin said. “I heard all about it. And Lord Ragnar was stupid enough to divorce you. He should have either fought you or fought for you.”
Freydis shrugged again and a tear ran down her face. “It is now gone.” She said quietly. “But he needs me to mend the domain. Soon he will realise and then I will mend the wound I caused and things will settle down.”
“He needs to do so soon,” Martin said. “Princes from nearby are looking at his court. It’s only a matter of time before we see an attempt to unseat him.”
Tears were flowing freely down Freydis’ face. “I know, I know, there is so much wrong and there is nothing I can do! I know he needs to bring Miss Patience to heel, and to soothe Kieran and to give assurances to the surrounding princes, but he is failing.” She looked up at Martin, her face glistening with tears in the streetlights. “I am helpless to act.”
“I would fight him for you, lady.” Martin said. “Or I would fight for him, if you asked me.”
Freydis shook her head. “I am still fae, still elfen. I feel a fate falling. I must face it.”
“You are remembering the Viking days,” Martin said. “I hear it in your language. They would face their weird and stride on regardless.”
“I married Lord Ragnar as the Vikings swept in,” Freydis said. “I suppose I have echoes from that time.”
“What fate to you see, lady?” Martin asked. “What is the shape of things to come?”
Freydis held up her hand. “Can you hear that?”
“What?” Martin looked around quickly and his heart sank. In the distance he could see a pack of revenants stalking after a loud group of lads. “I see them.”
“I shall enjoy killing them.” Freydis said as she rose. “Exercise is always useful if you wish to improve your mood.”