Rupert was busying himself with the apparatus, showing the other two how to work it. Simon called him over to the window.

“Is that Rose’s apartments?”

“He has some of the rooms down there, yes.”

“I saw him. I’m sure.”

“No he’s clean out. Don’t worry.”

“Every time you say that something bad happens. How much did you give him.”

“Well not so much as to kill him.”

“Hmm, that guy has a constitution. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“We need to get your bike.”

“You still have it?”

“Of course. It’s a bit out of the way, don’t want people stumbling on it.”

“Just get it.”

It took a few minutes to finish setting the apparatus then leaving the princess to look after the room and make sure it remained locked from the inside Rupert and Nicholas went down with Simon to the vaults. The draught from the cloudless dawn was cold and he shivered in his scanty clothes.

“Think you may be right about Rose,” said Nicholas. “Look.”

There was movement in some of the shadows in the wing above and they could see people going in and out.

“He’s noticed you’re not there,” said Rupert.

“Will he go to the tower?”

“No. The door is strong, would take ten men to knock it down. It’s at the top of a spiral staircase so no chance. He can send soldiers up to guard it if he's suspicious but he has no reason to think you know about this part of the building. Anyway I can just order them back down again, tell them I’m taking charge. No, he’ll come outside to look for you.”

“Have you got any geese?”

“Geese?”

“We’ve loads,” said Nicholas. “As many as you want.”

“I, it’s just that, well I guess it’s just superstition. But that witch, Maud, in Bristol, I mean Bristow, she put a spell on me. I seem to be invisible to my enemies when there are geese.”

“Hmm, let it be superstition. We’ll get you out before he finds where you are. This is where I stored it, it’s ready for use.”

The machine was like an old friend from bygone years. Even though, he realised with some surprise, it could only have been a few days. Propped against the wall his helmet still on the left side of the bars. Taking hold of the front he tested its weight.

“Can I do it from here?”

“No. Has to be on the driveway above the gate where the guards are.”

“OK. How do we get there? And no camels this time please.”

Despite the early hour it was by now broad daylight outside, the sun a bright orange two thirds above the horizon. Trying to hide as much as they could the three of them took the bike out of the servants door and up three steps close to the courtyard at the back of the palace. They managed to get half way round the side when they heard a shout.

“Who’s that out there? Stop in the name of the king.”

“Quick, hide,” said Rupert to Simon. Nicholas ran off. Rupert stood to face the tall glowering princess. “Where is he?” he asked Rose, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

“That’s what I want to know. He put something in my wine. And there’s someone in the tower. I heard it going.”

“We need soldiers,” said Rupert.

“I have them already. I’m going to find him, give him hell.”

Rose noticed the bike against a tree, Simon trying as hard as he could to conceal himself behind sparse branches. “What’s that?”

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“How do I know?”

Rose stomped over. Just at that moment a commotion issued from one of the low doors. Nicholas burst out among a flock of enraged birds. “Help me, help. The geese are escaping.”

Rupert and Rose ducked as the birds ran past them, brushing wings and threatening a nasty peck. Nicholas chasing afterwards. “Come on, help me get them back in.”

“Leave them,” said Rose irritably. “We’ve got plenty.” Turning back to the bike where two of the birds were trying to force their way through the gap in the frame. “I could have sworn there was someone there.” He stomped off to the field where the exotic beasts were starting to enjoy the early morning.

“Go,” said Rupert into the shadows. “Get round the side of the house to the top of the drive. I’ll give the signal. Nick, you stay here. I’ll have to clear the soldiers and get back in the turret first it’ll be a few minutes. Then about half an hour to set the machine to my own time and I'll be out too. Uglu will know what to do, Nick just be her assistant. No need to worry”

"So what about Uglu? What about ..."

"I know exactly what to do. I'll brief Nick. He's clever and loyal, he follow my instructions and make sure everyone's safe. Now go."

Simon could already hear Rupert giving orders as he made his way round the rough area leading eventually to the drive. Waiting in the shelter of the house he watched Nicholas sitting at the corner of the courtyard, from where the courtier could see both the window of the turret and Simon with his bike.

After just a few minutes Simon saw him stand and wave. “It’s ready. Go.”

Sitting on the bike Simon felt his feet cold on the metal of the pedals. The saddle felt weird but he had no time for reflection. Starting it up he moved down the initial incline of the drive only to see an all too familiar figure striding round the house having made a full circuit in the other direction.

Rose looked up. “Hey, where are you going on that? Come here. I’ll have you roasted alive.”

Simon pressed on the pedals and the bike started to accelerate down the hill, Rose giving furious chase. As it approached the sentry point he felt the rush of cold air and the surface under the tyres changed from packed mud to hard tarmac. Looking behind he saw he was still being followed.

The slope to the gates, which now retained just two high concrete posts, was steep and he easily outdistanced his opponent. Just as he reached the bottom he heard a hiss of air and his front tyre started to rub on the ground.

“Oh no, that’s done it,” he said. He went as far as he could but was forced to stop by the side of the road outside. Looking up he saw Rose panting, halfway along the drive, glaring at him and striding down. A car drew up.

“Have a good night last night?” Simon looked at the open window. Down the side panel a fluorescent green strip, black and white markings above and below.

“”Where am I?”

“A good question,” said the officer. “Better get in.” He opened the door and came out onto the pavement, helped Simon detach the front wheel and get the bike into the boot then ushered him into the rear of the car.

“What’s your name?” asked the driver.

“Simon Wyche.”

“Witch?”

“No,” said the other policeman, to Simon’s surprise. “It’s spelt W-Y-C-H-E”. Turning to the rear, “Is that your mate over there?”

“Mate?”

“Guy in a dress, I assume you've had some kind of medieval ball. Looks confused. He’s making his way up to reception.”

“No, well, I mean ...”

“He been causing trouble? The porter’ll deal with him, he’ll call if he needs help.”

The driver received a message on the radio. “Seems you are a missing person.”

“I guess,” said Simon. “I may have been away a week or two.”

“Kidnap? Drugs? Do we need to find this other man maybe.”

“No,” said Simon. “Don’t want him near me. He's an abuser.”

“OK. We’ll get it sorted at the station. Maybe we should send a car up to talk to the porter.”

They started towards town. “How did you know my name?”

The policeman in the passenger seat looked round. “You from near Bristol? Recognised the accent. I was at Uni there. Did my dissertation in local history.

“Don’t get him started,” advised the driver, but Simon barely heard.

“You know anything about the monastery at Wick Wick Wick?”

“For sure. That was part of my research. It was allowed to stand for nearly a century after the dissolution. A very holy place. Then there was a terrible scandal, the bishop’s son was murdered. It was well recorded at the time, I found the account in the city museum. For their punishment the monks were immolated in the building. But a miracle occurred. As the monastery started to burn it totally disappeared in a cloud of steam and there was such stench the folk all ran to a safe distance. When they got back the fire was out and all the monks peacefully dead.”

“Oh,” said Simon. "How terrible." A thought had crossed his mind. “Were they all in there? I mean there must have been layfolk and children.”

“The boys were spared. They were too innocent. They were sent to households in the city. That was part of my research. There was a mystery as there were fifteen boys at the monastery and only fourteen accounted for. My research was into the famous Mayor Chadwick, founder of the book and the alleged curse. He had no early history and I was curious about his origins.”

“So he was the fifteenth boy?” Simon was relieved they were all accounted for but something did not fit.

“Yes. He apparently came into money at a young age and lived independently. He took in the illegitimate grandchild of the Duke of Kent. She's the first entry in the book, followed later by his own children.”

“I’ll have to look him up. Family history.”

“Easy enough to find, if you go to the University they’ll have my thesis. Mayor Chadwick, Simon Montgomery. Not related to any of the Montgomery family as far as I can tell. He bought the monastery land and built an inn for travellers using the stones from the building.”

“The little tyke,” said Simon under his breath. “The black book. Now it’s all starting to make perfect sense.”

Simon took out the coin from the small pocket on his tunic, idly examining the king’s head. “What day is it today?”

“Friday.”

“No I mean date.”

“Oh. 28th July.”

He made a note to have a car ready for Rupert, or Jonathan as he guessed it would probably be, on the anniversary of whichever year he might happen to disappear. Approaching the police station they rolled into the rear car park and the officers took him past the security desk to an interview room, where they ordered breakfast for him while he composed a suitable story.