A Feast Unknown

It was a beautiful vision.

And, of course, it would have to be paid for, one way or another.

I might not like the payment.

In fact, I didn’t like it.

Moreover, I would have to buy an entrance ticket with Doc’s head.

I said, “It may take a few days before we can get Caliban’s body up.”

“Oh, no,” he said quickly. “I have two men fishing for it now. I’ll take care of everything.”

“That’s decent of you,” I said.

“Not at all, just carrying out orders,” he said.

If I tried to convert him to our side, I would be warning the Nine. It would be of no use anyway.

I said, “Come here, Hawthorpe,” and when he was close enough I grabbed his throat with one hand and the top of his head with the other. He was a big bull-necked man but squeaked like a mouse before I twisted his neck. I then sent Clio and Trish out after the other two. They called them inside and shot them, and then dropped the weighted bodies into the moat.

Both were shaken. Though they were old veterans and cool enough in defending themselves or attacking enemies on the alert, killing in cold blood was new. I told them that they’d have more of that before we were finished, one way or the other.

An hour later, after some difficulty in getting Doc into the back of a station wagon, we drove off. I stopped once before entering the woods to say farewell to the estate. I doubted that I would ever be able to return. I looked at the castle, the ashes of the Hall, the barns, garages, servants’ quarters, the broad meadows and the question-shaped tarn, the woods beyond, and at the great boulder on the hill, beside which rested the first Randgrith. The old man would sit when the two ravens returned, the local saying went.

I knew now what that meant. The old man, our grandfather, would never sit because he was forever dead, and, the two ravens would not return.

Neither would I. Not for many years, anyway.

We drove away as the sun dropped behind the High Chair. The soldiers on sentinel duty let us through without delay. It would not be long before the Nine knew that the three of us had gone, however.

Doc was hidden under some blankets and luggage. As soon as Hawthorpe failed to report in as schedulled, the Nine would investigate, and they would know that Caliban was still alive and with us.

Then the hunt would be on.

Hunter, beware the prey!

Before this is over, there may be more than one empty seat at the table of the Nine, and the world may be aware of its secret masters.