CHAPTER 7

Escape And Capture They locked me in a small damp room without a window and didn’t bring me the supper they’d mentioned. For a bed there was just a small heap of straw. When the door closed I stood there in the dark, listening to the key being turned in the lock and the footsteps echoing away down the corridor.

It was too dark to see my hands before my face but that didn’t worry me much. After nearly six months as the Spook’s apprentice I’d become a lot braver. Being a seventh son of a seventh son, I’d always seen things that others couldn’t but the Spook had taught me that most of them couldn’t do you much harm. It was an old cathedral and there was a big graveyard beyond the garden so that meant there would be things about – unquiet things like ghasts and ghosts – but I wasn’t afraid of them.

No, what bothered me was the Bane below in the catacombs! The thought of it reaching into my mind was terrifying. I certainly didn’t want to face that, and if it was now as strong as the Spook suspected, it would know exactly what was going on. In fact it had probably corrupted Father Cairns, turning him against his own cousin. It might have worked its evil amongst the priests and been listening to their conversations. It was bound to know who I was and where I was and it wouldn’t be too friendly to say the least.

Of course, I didn’t plan on staying there all night. You see, I still had the three keys in my pocket and I intended to use the special one Andrew had made. Father Cairns wasn’t the only one with tricks up his sleeve.

The key wouldn’t get me beyond the Silver Gate, because you needed something far more subtle and well-crafted to open that lock, but I knew it would get me out into the corridor and through any door of the cathedral. I just had to wait a while until everyone was asleep and then I could sneak out. If I went too early, I’d probably be caught. On the other hand, if I delayed, I’d be too late to warn the Spook and might get a visit from the Bane, so it was a judgement I couldn’t afford to get wrong.

As darkness fell and the noises outside faded, I decided to take my chance. The key turned in the lock without a hint of resistance, but just before I opened the door I heard footsteps. I froze and held my breath as, gradually, they receded into the distance and everything returned to silence.

I waited a long time, listening very carefully. Finally I drew in a slow breath and eased open the door. Fortunately, it opened without a single creak and I stepped out into the corridor, pausing and listening again.

I didn’t know for sure that there was anybody left in the cathedral and its side buildings. Perhaps they’d all gone back to the big, priests’ house? But I couldn’t believe they wouldn’t have left somebody on guard, so I tiptoed along the dark corridor, afraid to make even the slightest sound.

When I came to the side door of the vestry, I had a shock. I didn’t need my key. It was already open.

The sky was clear now and the moon was up, bathing the path in a silver light. I stepped outside and moved cautiously. Only then did I sense somebody behind me; someone standing to the side of the door, hidden in the shadow of one of the big stone buttresses that shored up the sides of the cathedral.

For a moment I froze. Then, my heart pounding so loudly I could hear it, I slowly turned round. The shadowy figure stepped out into the moonlight. I recognized him straight away. Not a priest, but the brother who’d been on his knees tending the garden earlier. Gaunt of face, Brother Peter was almost totally bald, with just a thin collar of white hair below his ears.

Suddenly he spoke. ‘Warn your master, Thomas,’ he said. ‘Go quickly! Get away from this town while you both can!’

I didn’t reply. I just turned and ran down the path as fast as I could. I only stopped running when I reached the streets. I walked so as not to draw too much attention to myself and I wondered why Brother Peter hadn’t tried to stop me. Wasn’t that his job? Hadn’t he been left on guard?

But I didn’t have time to think about that properly. I had to warn the Spook of his cousin’s betrayal before it was too late. I didn’t know which inn the Spook was staying at but perhaps his brother would know. That was a start because I knew where Friargate was: it was one of the roads I’d walked down while searching for an inn, so Andrew’s shop wouldn’t be too difficult to find. I hurried through the cobbled streets, knowing that I didn’t have much time; that the Quisitor and his men would already be on their way.

Friargate was a wide, hilly road with two rows of shops and I found the locksmith’s easily. The name above the shop said andrew Gregory but the premises were in darkness. I had to knock three times before a light flickered in the upstairs room.

Andrew opened the door and held a candle up to my face. He was wearing a long nightshirt and his face held a mixture of expressions. He looked puzzled, angry and weary.

‘Your brother’s in danger,’ I said, trying to keep my voice as low as possible. ‘I would have warned him myself, but I don’t know where he’s staying…’

He beckoned me in without a word and led me through into his workshop. The walls were festooned with keys and locks of every possible shape and size. One large key was as long as my forearm and I wondered at the size of the lock it belonged to. Quickly I explained what had happened.

‘I told him he was a fool to stay here!’ he exclaimed, thumping his fist down hard on the top of a workbench. ‘And damn that treacherous, two-faced cousin of ours! I knew all along he wasn’t to be trusted. The Bane must have finally got to him, twisting his mind to get John out of the way – the one person in the whole County who still poses a real threat to it!’

He went upstairs but it didn’t take him long to get dressed. Soon we were heading back through the empty streets, taking a route that led us back in the direction of the cathedral.

‘He’s staying at the Book and Candle,’ muttered Andrew Gregory, shaking his head. ‘Why on earth didn’t he tell you that? You could have saved time by going straight there. Let’s hope we’re not too late!’

But were too late. We heard them from several streets away: men’s voices raised in anger and someone thumping a door loud enough to wake the dead.

We watched from a corner, taking care not to be seen. There was nothing we could do now. The Quisitor was there on his huge horse and he had about twenty armed men at his command. They had cudgels and some of them had drawn their swords as if they expected resistance. One of the men hammered on the inn door again with the hilt of his sword.

‘Open up! Open up! Be quick about it!’ he shouted. ‘Or we’ll break down the door!’

There was the sound of bolts being drawn back and the innkeeper came to the door in his nightshirt, holding a lantern. He looked bewildered, as if he’d just woken up from a very deep sleep. He saw only the two armed men facing him, not the Quisitor. Perhaps that was why he made a big mistake: he began to protest and bluster.

‘What’s this?’ he cried. ‘Can’t a man get some sleep after a hard day’s work? Disturbing the peace at this time of night! I know my rights. There’s laws against such things.’

‘Fool!’ shouted the Quisitor angrily, riding closer to the door. ‘I am the law! A warlock sleeps within your walls. A servant of the Devil! Sheltering a known enemy of the Church carries dire penalties. Stand aside or pay with your life!’

‘Sorry, lord. Sorry!’ wailed the innkeeper, holding up his hands in supplication, a look of terror on his face.

In answer the Quisitor simply gestured to his men, who seized the innkeeper roughly. Without ceremony he was dragged into the street and hurled to the ground.

Then, very deliberately, with cruelty etched on his face, the Quisitor rode his white stallion over the innkeeper. A hoof came down hard on his leg and I clearly heard the bone snap. My blood ran cold. The man lay screaming on the ground while four of the guards ran into the house; their boots thumped up the wooden stairs.