The Eighth Court (7 page)

“If you keep moving you’ll be harder to trace,” Blackbird remarked. “Don’t stay in one place more than a day. Never go back to the same place twice. Don’t do anything to attract attention – ditch your bank accounts, credit cards, drivers licence – anything that links back to you. You don’t want to leave a trail that can be followed.”

“They’re not in the safe,” said Claire.

“What?” said Alex.

“The horseshoes and the knives. They’re not kept in the safe all the time – only in the days close to the ceremony,” said Claire.

“You understand,” said Blackbird, “I am not offering you sanctuary. I am simply offering to help you find a way out.”

“I can’t live like that.” Claire fished into her bag and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue which she proceeded to twist. “You have to help me.”

“It may not be enough,” said Blackbird.

“It will be something. It’s better than sitting in hotel rooms waiting for the money to run out, never trusting anyone, waiting for a knock on the door, or the click of a lock.”

“Tell me about the safe,” said Blackbird.

“It was supposed to be a secret,” said Claire. “We’re not supposed to tell anyone.”

“Someone knows,” said Blackbird, “or you wouldn’t be where you are now.”

Claire gathered herself, moving her bag, pushing back her hair. She leaned forward in the chair. “You must promise not to tell anyone,” she said.

“No,” said Blackbird.

“You must!” said Claire.

“I won’t make a promise I might break,” said Blackbird. “That’s not my way. We’re beyond that.”

Claire, looked first at Alex and then at Katherine.

Blackbird followed her gaze. “They’re both in on this, though they may come to wish that they were not… you may as well tell them.”

Claire looked from one to the other, then resigned herself. “Since Jerry retired there’s been a bit of a hiatus. I had this idea I was going to choose a successor – a new clerk for a new Remembrancer – and semi-retire myself. I’ve been going through the journals of the past clerks at the National Archives, looking at how previous clerks have chosen their successors. Looking for clues.”

“How does this relate to the contents of the safe?” asked Blackbird.

I’m getting to that. This goes back to the beginnings of the ceremony,” said Claire. Establishing the barrier took time. There were… incidents. Like Rome, the barrier wasn’t built in a day. Sacrifices had to be made.”

“What kind of sacrifices?” asked Katherine, moving around to sit at the other end of the sofa.

“The usual kind. You have to understand that as the barrier grew stronger the Seventh Court became aware of it. They took steps to prevent the ceremony being performed. They killed successive Remembrancers – bribed them, threatened them, kidnapped their children, murdered their families. But the crown was committed. One king after another made sure that the ceremony was performed. The first ceremony was in 1067,” said Claire. “With just the two knives. The date was kept secret, the venue was changed, people were switched at the last minute. As the barrier got stronger the Seventh Court became more desperate. Still they came. The cost in human lives became difficult to hide. There were… reports.”

“Reports?” said Blackbird.

“This was the time of Plantagenet rule. Anything which undermined the King’s sovereignty was ruthlessly suppressed. Anything which compromised it was dealt with.”

“Only this wasn’t dealt with?” said Blackbird.

“Oh, it was. The barrier was established, and for a while there was peace. The Seventh Court could not cross. It held, and the courts and the crown were united. We had succeeded.”

“In the year 1244 something went wrong. The Remembrancer didn’t perform the ceremony. There were extenuating circumstances – sickness, a bridge collapsed, a servant was compromised. The ceremony failed and the Seventh Court broke through. There was an attack on the King – an all-out assault to remove the figurehead and destroy the barrier forever. They nearly succeeded.”

“But they didn’t,” said Blackbird.

“There were rumours,” said Claire. “The Feyre… there was infrequent communication before that time – a dialogue, albeit at diplomatic levels. After that night, nothing was heard from them for years.”

“An all-out assault…” said Blackbird.

“Pardon?” said Claire.

Blackbird hesitated, and then relented. “You are sharing secrets, and it is only fair that we should share some of ours. There was a time long ago when the Seventh Court broke through in an effort to eliminate all of the half-breed fey, all those of mixed race, in a single night. I have heard it referred to, but no one talks about it. There are enmities that go back to that time that exist today.”

“The King escaped,” said Claire, “with the help of a cadre of hand-picked elite knights. They fought with heavy steel and iron. Many of them died, but they saved the King. He was smuggled out in the chaos while those that protected him stood against the Seventh Court. It was a massacre.”

“Human knights are no match for wraithkin,” said Blackbird.

“They didn’t need to defeat them,” said Claire. “They only needed to delay them long enough for the King to escape. In that they succeeded, thought the cost was high.”

“And they were rewarded?” asked Blackbird.

“Hardly,” said Claire. “The knights were Templars – Poor Soldier Knights of Christ and the Order of the Temple of Solomon – it’s a misleading title. They were hardly poor, being sons of noble families of vast wealth and power. Neither were they simple soldiers. They were well-equipped, highly trained and exceptionally skilled. If anyone could stop the Seventh Court, they could.”

“But they didn’t,” said Blackbird.

“No, they didn’t. But the crown was grateful for what they accomplished. And as crowns will, showed gratitude in ways that were two-handed. They received lands and charters, the gateway to further wealth and power, and they were honoured with certain duties – the assurance that a certain ceremony would be performed, come what may, at sword-point if necessary.”

“The Quit Rents…” said Blackbird.

“Six elite knights were chosen, one for each court of the Feyre. Six families were selected to guard the ceremony down the years. One family was too fragile. One dynasty might be subverted, or bribed, or threatened – but six. That was a good number.”

“Which families?” asked Blackbird.

“You see now why this is secret,” said Claire. “With the knowledge of the families you can find the guardians. You could subvert them, bribe them, eliminate them. But you would have to know who they were, first.”

“How do you know?” asked Blackbird.

“Officially, I don’t. It is not good for me to know. It is better that I simply know they are there. When the time of the ceremony draws near, they deliver the knives and the nails. I don’t know where they’re kept at other times, and that’s by design. I can’t reveal what I don’t know.”

“We have to find them,” said Alex.

“Find them how?” asked Katherine. “We don’t even know who they are, do we?”

“I have the journals, so we know one of the names,” said Claire. “The horseshoes are rendered in respect of a forge in Tweezers Alley. The forge was on a corner of the Templar’s field and was owned by Walter le Brun. He was one of them. That’s as much as I’m supposed to know.”

“
Supposed
to know?” asked Blackbird.

“Before he went to Australia, Jerry told me something. We were talking about the ceremony, about why it wasn’t right.”

“Go on…” said Blackbird.

“He said that the ceremony had devolved to the clerks, but that the protection of the ceremony was still the duty of the Queen’s Remembrancer. Each year, at the ceremony, they hold up the horseshoes to be counted, but it’s not the horseshoes they’re counting. There are people in the audience who make themselves known to the Remembrancer as a sign of their continued fidelity and service. If there are enough, the Remembrancer announces
Good Number
, and the ceremony is complete for the year.”

“And how many were at this year’s ceremony?” asked Blackbird.

“I don’t know,” said Claire, “but Jerry wasn’t happy.”

“Can’t we just look up le Brun up in the phone book? What about the Internet?”

“That was in 1245,” said Claire. “The family lines have merged and divided. There’s no guarantee that anyone called Le Brun would know anything about this.”

“Then they could all be long dead,” said Katherine.

“The point was not that he was the protector,” said Claire, “but that the duty devolved to his line. His successors would take on the duty, and their successors, and so on, down the years.”

“So where are the Templars now?” asked Alex.

“They don’t exist. The order was disbanded in 1307 by Philip IV of France, who seized the assets. A papal bull was issued, dissolving the order. Many of them were killed, a number were tortured. Not in England, though. Edward II disputed the French crown’s claim to the assets and the assets in England were gifted to the Order of St John, the Knights Hospitaler. They were succeeded by the Societies of the Inns of Court, which gave us Lincoln’s Inn, Gray’s Inn, Inner Temple and Middle Temple.”

“Temple?” said Alex. “Isn’t that the same as Templars?”

“Technically, yes,” said Claire, “The Templars were named after the Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem, and Temple in London was named after the order. Nowadays, Inner and Middle Temple are the associations to which court barristers belong. Their idea of a test of strength is to put their case before a judge, and then have a glass of something in a wine bar with the opposition afterwards. There are no Templars in Temple now.”

“Are you sure?” asked Blackbird.

“It crossed my mind,” said Claire, “But then I would have expected to see them at the ceremony. The odd barrister does turn up, but they generally sit in the upper gallery and watch. Most of the people that come are from the City for the investiture of the Sheriffs of the City of London.”

“What about the Remembrancer,” said Blackbird. “Does he know who they are?”

“The whole idea is that neither of us know who they are, and then we can’t betray them. They protect us, and in return they too are protected.”

“I don’t get it,” said Alex. “What are they for? I mean, they turn up and all that, but why?”

“Why does the testing of two knives, one blunt and one sharp, create a barrier between the worlds?” said Blackbird. “Claire, in your bag you carry a horseshoe, do you not?”

Claire nodded.

“Would you show it to us?” asked Blackbird.

“I thought it was… impolite,” said Claire.

“Just this once,” said Blackbird.

Claire reached down and opened her bag, extracting the heavy iron horseshoe which looked massive in her delicate hands. Alex hissed, while Blackbird looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“Alex, what is it?” said Katherine, looking suddenly worried.

“Katherine, would you take the horseshoe from Claire?”

“I wouldn’t normally allow…” said Claire.

“As a test,” said Blackbird.

Claire handed the heavy shoe to Katherine who took it in both hands. Blackbird watched Alex, whose expression had the look of someone who’d expected wine and found themselves to be drinking vinegar.

“What is it, sweetheart?” said Katherine. “It’s heavy, but…”

“Take it from her,” Blackbird said to Alex.

“No!” said Alex.

“It’s only a horseshoe,” said Blackbird.

“You do it then, if that’s all it is,” Alex challenged.

Blackbird smiled slowly. “It is only a horseshoe. They are only a couple of knives. It is only a hazel rod, and yet there is power in it. Why does the testing of two knives set a barrier between the worlds? As my friend Gregor would tell you, ritual itself is important, method is as important as means. Having the knights at the ceremony is part of the ritual. They are symbols, and symbols are important.”

“And if they’re not there?” asked Katherine, handing the horseshoe back to Claire with a sidelong look at her daughter’s sour expression.

“Then the symbol is absent, and the ritual is incomplete.”

“One of them arranged for the delivery of the knives and the nails before the ceremony,” said Claire. “And arranged for them to be taken away afterwards. That’s all I know.”

“How do you know if it’s one of them?” asked Blackbird. “What if they were substituted?”

“There are certain forms that must be followed – oaths to be sworn while each of us is holding one of the horseshoes” Claire explained. “No one fey could swear that oath under those circumstance, and no one else knows the oath that’s sworn. Someone fey could extract the oath from us, but they’d never be able to swear it holding the horseshoe.”

“That still doesn’t help us find them,” said Blackbird, “but it does mean that the nails and the knives are probably safe for now. The horseshoes are a different matter. You have one, and there’s another in your flat.”

“The rest were in the safe, wherever that is,” said Claire. “We still have no way of contacting the keepers of the nails or the knives, though. We need to warn them or we may yet lose them all, assuming they still exist.”

“We’ll think about that tomorrow,” said Blackbird. “In the meantime I will ask Niall to arrange the recovery of the horseshoe from your flat, and we need to find you somewhere to stay.”

“She can stay here,” volunteered Katherine.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” said Claire “It’s too dangerous.”

“No one knows you’re here,” said Katherine. “So no one’s going to bother us, are they?”

Blackbird was on the point of trying to explain why that didn’t necessarily help and then thought better of it. Katherine was right. There was no reason for Claire not to be at Katherine’s. The only link between them was Niall, and that was a hard connection to follow.

“She could have my room,” said Alex. “I can go back with Blackbird for tonight and come back tomorrow,” she said brightly.

Blackbird thought that had more to do with avoiding Katherine’s questions than the spirit of generosity, but if it got the job done… “Very well,” said Blackbird, “but I want a private word with Claire first, and then I will want to walk around the house and garden. Katherine, when will Barry be back?”

“He’s away at the office Christmas party and sales conference,” she said. “That was one reason I wanted Alex to stay over. It meant we could spend some time with just us. He won’t be back until the day after tomorrow.”

That gave them tomorrow to work something out for Claire. It would be a bad idea for her to stay with Katherine for longer than a night or so, in any case.

Before they left, Blackbird spoke quietly with Claire and made her promise to keep the horseshoe close to her to prevent anyone from gaining knowledge of her whereabouts, especially while she was with Katherine. Then she walked the bounds of the property and set a simple warding to turn away curious eyes – it wasn’t much but it would do for one night. They would have to come up with something better tomorrow.

When they went to leave, Katherine wanted to call a taxi for them, but Blackbird explained that the fewer people who saw them go the better. In the back of her mind was the thought that she would have to explain to Niall why exposing Katherine to this risk was necessary, but she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

Blackbird and Alex slipped away from the house cloaked in glamour. Despite Alex’s complaints that she was shivering and hadn’t brought a coat, Blackbird made her wait across the street with her until the curtains were drawn and the house was in darkness. When she was sure there was nothing waiting in the shadows, she took Alex and headed back to the courts.