In which a matron rides to the rescue
If only we would all speak the truth.
- from Lady Avely’s Guide to Lies and Charms
When she opened her eyes, Judith was in a hexagonal stone room with small square windows.
Her body felt as if it had been shaken like a pillowcase in the wind, then neatly refolded. She staggered backwards to lean against the comforting bulk of grey stone, and cursed aloud.
Damn Dacian! The devil take him for such a trick. What if Harriet’s bullet had hit him? The world seemed to falter again, and Judith splayed her hands against the cool stone, trying to combat the wave of nausea that swept through her.
Unfortunately, she was not alone. Across the narrow, circular room, a man sat behind a small wooden desk, his mouth open in astonishment. The glow of lamplight showed that he was clad in the scarlet wool uniform of an infantryman, with its smart white crossbelts. His cocked hat held an ostrich feather, indicating a higher rank, perhaps captain. He had a sensitive, long face, with blue eyes, which currently showed white around the edges.
“Who are you?” Belatedly, he struggled to his feet. “Where did you come from, ma’am?”
Judith pushed herself off the wall and stood straight. She was still furious with Dacian, but chose to direct her ire at the man who now faced her.
“I am Lady Judith Avely,” she said coldly, “and I have just come from Garvey House in Stokesford. Where am I? I must hasten back immediately.”
She crossed to peer out of a narrow window, set deep into thick stone. The full moon showed the flat glimmer of sea outside, a low rumple of hills beyond.
Falmouth, of course. Curse the man.
“You are in Pendennis Castle.” She turned back to see the soldier bow and lift a frowning gaze. “Which, I may add, is a military fort. Civilians - especially ladies - are not permitted entrance. I take it you used a Travel charm to arrive here? Where did you obtain such a thing?”
Judith pressed her lips together. She did not want to land Dacian in trouble, nor, for that matter, Lord Triskett. Still, she was glad that she was able to talk freely of the Musing to this man, as it would make things a far sight easier. “I used a very old Travel charm, made scores of years ago. Probably from a time before Pendennis Castle was reinforced.” She could imagine the Triskett boys exploring the ruins, and making their own travelways there. The fort had only recently been rebuilt, to face the looming threat of Napoleon.
The captain came out from behind his desk. “I think I must see this charm, and determine its provenance, my lady. My name is Captain Drumpellier, by the way.”
Carefully, Judith did not hide her hands behind her back, though Dacian’s topaz ring was in full view, hanging loose on her left finger. She held the captain’s gaze with a raised brow. Intriguingly, a note of untruth had sounded in his last claim.
“I must insist,” he said. “This is a military fortification, and I cannot allow unauthorised entrance.”
She decided on which card to play for now: a gesture of compliance. “The charm was a gift from the Triskett family.”
“Ah.” His eyes narrowed.
“We can discuss the matter later. Right now I must return to Garvey House. The Duke of Sargen is there and in danger. He may have been shot.”
Her voice quivered on the last word, and it was not an act. A surge of fear jolted her anew as she remembered that final tableau and the sound of the gun firing. She hid her fingers in her skirts and stepped forward. “I must insist that you provide Travel for me to return to Stokesford at once, Captain Drumpellier.”
“The Duke of Sargen?” the captain repeated. “The duke who was in exile?”
“Yes, his grace has returned. Please, you must help him.” When Drumpellier simply stared, Judith hardened her tone. “He is a peer of the realm, Gifted in Impacting. If you save his life, I am certain you will not regret it.”
“Ahem.” Drumpellier broke out of his trance, and returned to his desk to rifle through a drawer. “Stokesford, you say? I might have a Travel charm to take us to Somerset, but you will owe me a complete explanation afterwards, do you understand? I will be using a valuable military resource to help you.”
“Of course.” Hope made Judith breathless. “Anything. Just take me back as soon as possible. He might be losing blood as we speak.”
“Ah hah.” The captain held up a compass, turning it so it gleamed in the lamplight. “This will take us to Bury Castle, if I remember correctly.”
“Will someone see us?” She couldn’t bear more explanations.
Captain Drumpellier chuckled. “Only the sheep.” Then his expression sobered. “I am afraid that I must accompany you, my lady. This will require us to adopt a rather intimate embrace, so the charm may carry us both.”
Judith gestured impatiently; she did not have time for the niceties of decorum. “Whatever is necessary.” She was momentarily furious again, that Dacian hadn’t done the same so he could come to Falmouth with her. Yet she knew he wouldn’t abandon Robert to face Harriet’s pistol alone. Nor, for the matter, leave his vampiri companion naked on the mantelpiece.
So it was that Judith arrived at Bury Castle with Captain Drumpellier’s arms tightly clasped around her waist. As soon as the disorientating, wavering feeling subsided, she extricated herself. Blinking, she looked around.
She had expected another stone room in a fort, but instead she stood on an open hill, with grass under her feet. The grey ruins of ramparts fell away close by, and beyond that, a group of sheep huddled together, asleep under a heavy sky. Bury Castle, she now remembered, was an ancient hillfort that had long since fallen into the earth.
“How far to Garvey House?” Judith stared out over the empty fields, not knowing which way to start walking.
Captain Drumpellier straightened his coat, putting the compass away. “It is south-east from here, at least an hour’s ride.”
“An hour’s ride! Where are we to find a horse?” Her heart sank. An hour was far too long. Dacian might die alone, before she reached his side. She dared not contemplate the possibility. Thank God Robert was with him; he would help.
The captain turned and began walking briskly. “We will commandeer horses. The benefits of a military jacket, you perceive.”
She followed, her slippers rapidly soaking through with dew as they made their way downhill. They crossed a small stream, wetting her skirts, and soon she was icy cold. A village came into view, with thatched roofs, low stone walls, and windows glimmering with candlelight.
Captain Drumpellier knocked authoritatively on the first farmhouse door, and after a short discussion (and bestowal of coins) they were led out to a field which housed a large roan horse sleeping near a trough. A smaller white pony slept companionably next to it.
The farmer set about saddling both mounts, and as soon as the roan was bridled, Judith clambered onto the trough and grasped the pommel. Using the height of the stone ledge, she swung herself into the saddle without delay.
Captain Drumpellier cleared his throat. “I believe that is my horse, my lady.”
“It is mine,” she replied shortly. “And you will let me have it, or I will inform your superiors that your name is not really Drumpellier.”
His eyes widened. Indecision momentarily twisted his features, then he stepped back, jaw tight. “God speed. Rest assured that I will be following close behind.” He grimaced wryly at the white pony. “Or as close as I can manage.”
Judith garnered directions to Stokesford from the farmer, then guided her roan out of the field and spurred it into a trot.
Following the narrow roads, she pushed the horse into a canter wherever she could, holding the reins loose and leaning forward in encouragement. Wind whipped up her skirts, and chapped her cheeks, but her pounding fear made it irrelevant.
She rode like her mobcap was on fire but it was a long hour before the familiar promenade of Stokesford’s main street came into view. Passing the apothecary at a trot, she dug her heels in for the last stretch, her fingers now cold and clenched round the leather.
Leaves swirled around her as she thundered up the ash-lined drive. Pulling the roan up, she swung herself off and marched to the front door. Thank God, it was unlocked. She pushed her way through, ready to run up the stairs. Then she heard laughter.
It was coming from the back of the house. The timbre of it was familiar and dear. Dacian.
Relief and hope made her heart thud harder. Judith ran, thrusting open the servant’s door into a kitchen.
She pulled to a halt, panting. A domestic scene greeted her.
Selina Southcott sat on a stool, smiling, and nursing a tall cup of chocolate. A sliver molinet was set before her, next to what looked suspiciously like a bottle of brandy. Dacian leaned against the stove, also holding a steaming cup and an air of amusement. Marigold, tucked into Dacian’s flannel handkerchief, sat against a pepper grinder. Wooten, the bat of the hour, was wrapped up in black silk and perched elegantly on an upside-down teacup, a thimble in his hand.
The heady fragrance of cocoa, spices, and brandy hung in the air, along with a faint metallic smell.
Everyone turned to stare at Judith. She tore off her mobcap, which was damp from the ride, and threw it aside. Then she marched up to Dacian and leaned both her hands against his hard chest.
“How dared you send me away!”
“Judith!” He put his cup down as he pulled her into his other arm. “How…?”
Caught against his chest, tears suddenly rose to her eyes. She brought her own arms to curl around him, and snuffled into his shirt. It was like being in a hot bath after a freezing day, and she sagged with relief against him.
“How dared you send me away!” she repeated. “You could have died!”
“Hardly. I threw myself to the side.” Dacian tucked her head under his chin and squeezed her tight. Judith breathed in the smell of him: brandy, cocoa, and smoke. Then Dacian added, “Robert took the bullet for me.”
“What?” Judith pulled away in shock. “Where?”
She looked round, and finally saw Robert. He lay on a bench, propped up by pillows and out of view of the door. His legs were covered with blankets, but Judith could see that one side was bulky with bandages. His face was pale, and his hands gripped a cup of chocolate as if it were keeping him upright. Next to him sat Georgina, her face pale and downcast.
Ignoring the girl, Judith flew to his side. “Dear boy, what happened?”
He smiled wanly. “The gun fired to the left, after Wooten’s intervention.”
Wooten huffed. “And it wouldn’t have touched you, if you hadn’t foolishly leapt forward like that, throwing yew hedges about.”
Dacian came up beside her. “It was just a nick, thank God, but he’s lost a bit of blood.”
Judith put her hand on Robert’s sturdy shoulder, filled with remorse. “I should never have let you come with us.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” said Robert staunchly. “Finally got to see Wooten in his true form.” He winked at Wooten, who huffed again.
Robert, she realised, was slightly drunk. “How much brandy did you give him?” she asked Dacian with reproof.
“A bit. We used it to wash the wound too. Hurts like the devil, so we dosed him up before we poured it in.”
“Oh, goodness,” Judith turned back to Robert, tears starting to her eyes. “You poor boy. I’m so sorry.”
Robert blinked up at her. “Nothing to fuss about.”
Judith shook her head in reproof, then turned to Georgina, who had been listening, head down, hands clenched in her lap.
“And you?” she asked gently. “How much do you know now?”
Georgina looked up with red-rimmed eyes. “I heard it all. I didn’t trust you all” - here she gulped - “so I crept back to listen, to save Grandmama if I could. I heard her terrible confessions.”
Judith put her hand over the girl’s cold ones. “I am so sorry.”
Dacian coughed. “Georgina has helped Robert a little, with her Healing Gift.”
“Thank you, Georgina,” said Judith. “You may still come to Elinor’s wedding, if you wish, though perhaps you would prefer to stay here with Mrs Froode for a while.”
Georgina, looking rather wan and shocked, merely nodded.
Judith turned back to Robert. “We must fetch a doctor for you, and take you somewhere to recuperate.” She dared not mention Cornwall again. “Perhaps back to Sargenet, if it suits you.”
“Well,” said Robert, “my injury means that I cannot gain useful employment with Lewis anymore.” He paused. “Perhaps I shall have to paint landscapes in Cornwall instead.”
Judith stared in delight. “Really?”
Robert shrugged. “For a bit. While I’m injured.”
“That’s wonderful!” Judith cleared her throat. “Well, not wonderful that you were shot, I mean. But I’m so pleased.”
Robert grinned up at her, a bit more colour in his cheeks.
“This calls for more brandy.” Dacian waved the bottle at Judith. “Want some, my dear?” His eyes were also rather bright. She suspected they had all been partaking liberally, in their triumphant denouement, without her.
“May I simply have chocolate?” She took a stool and perched next to Robert, anxiously surveying his inert form. “What have you done with Harriet?”
Dacian looked a bit shifty and didn’t answer immediately. It was left to Marigold to explain. “The duke confined her with his power, then tied her up with the curtain ties. She is upstairs, straining like a sail on the wind, and cursing like a sailor too.”
Judith gave Georgina an apologetic glance. “And Mrs Froode?”
“Also tied up.” Dacian busied himself pouring out the dregs of chocolate. “She swears she was on our side, but I thought it better to be cautious. Honestly, I am not certain what we should do with the two of them. We cannot hand them over to the good Constable Carter.” He handed Judith her cup with a wry expression.
She sipped it gratefully. “I think the solution might present itself sooner than you expect.” After that mysterious pronouncement, she turned her attention to Mrs Selina Southcott, who had been quietly observing the discussion, her apple-green mobcap on the table beside her. “And you returned, Mrs Southcott.”
Selina nodded, smiling. “I thought I might be of use.”
“Hm.” The long ride from Bury Castle had given Judith time to think about certain inflections in Selina’s tale, and she examined her closely now. “You have something to confess, do you not?”
Selina’s eyes widened. “I do?” Her fingers tightened on her cup.
Marigold tilted her head. “It seems as if she does.”
Judith nodded. “Mrs Southcott, you are an Impactor, I believe. Furthermore, you were not entirely innocent in the matter of Lord Garvey’s death.”
A red stain spread through Selina’s cheeks. Everyone stared as she guiltily looked down at her chocolate. Then she met Judith’s eyes and coughed.
“You are right, Lady Avely. I am indeed Gifted in Impacting.”
Judith nodded. “I remember the ease with which you moved the heavy pots in the glasshouse for Harriet, nine years ago. And you used your power again on the night of Garvey’s death.” She was sure of it, and she wanted Dacian to hear it.
Selina licked her lips. “Yes, it’s true. When Lord Garvey had me cornered against the Apollo statue, I considered throwing him aside, even though it would reveal my power. I was uncertain what to do, undecided - then the duke appeared, angry and violent, and fluctuating with the same kind of power I recognised in myself. So I grasped the opportunity.”
Dacian braced himself against the wooden table, staring at Selina. “You mean to say it was your Impact that threw Garvey aside?”
Selina shrugged. “Perhaps a bit of both. Certainly, I contributed.”
Dacian eyed her in astonishment. “ Now you tell me this?”
Selina had the grace to look ashamed. “I could not let it be known by anyone that I had a part to play in the whole sordid affair - that I was even present, let alone a cause of his lordship’s death. My prospects would have vanished, and I would have been tarred with a black brush.”
Judith spoke coldly. “The duke’s prospects vanished, and he was tarred instead.”
Dacian’s shoulders sagged. “Nine years of exile, and meanwhile a slip of a girl helped me kill Garvey?”
Selina nibbled on her lip. “I am sorry, your grace.”
Dacian sighed. “Well, to tell the truth I am glad of it. His death has weighed on my conscience. Or should I say,” he amended, “it bothered me that I allowed my power to kill him, when I did not mean to do so.”
Judith interposed. “I hope you are willing to testify on this matter too, Mrs Southcott, should the Musor Custos ever have questions about that night.”
Selina gulped. “Yes, indeed.” She stood and nervously fiddled with the large iron kettle, filling it with water.
“More brandy?” said Dacian, but Judith could hear a new lightness in his voice. “Come, Judith, let me top up your chocolate. We deserve something to ease our spirits, after these adventures.”
She presented the cup to him, and he poured in some of the rich, sweet alcohol. Judith took a look swallow, and the rush of it warmed her innards. “What a night it has been.”
“Yes, how the hell did you find your way back here so quickly?” Dacian demanded, suddenly recalling that particular mystery. “I swear I sent you to Falmouth. Did you land there?”
“I did,” said Judith severely. “In Pendennis Castle, where a useful captain assisted my return. He should be here shortly.”
Dacian looked around as if to see a captain materialising from the walls. “Why did he not escort you to the door?”
“I took the faster horse,” explained Judith, “from near Bury Castle, where we Travelled.”
“Travelled?” Dacian’s eyes narrowed. “Together?”
“Yes.”
“With two charms, I hope.”
“One.”
Dacian put down the brandy with a clunk, and was at her side in an instant. “No one Travels with you except me , do you hear? Did he have the effrontery to put his arms around you?”
“If he did, you are well served,” replied Judith. “You shouldn’t have sent me to Falmouth in the first place.”
“Have pity, Judith,” he grumbled. “Better Falmouth than dead.”
“Not if you were shot.” She stood and grabbed his shirt, trying to shake him. It was like trying to shake a stone wall, and she let go again. She rather wanted to throw herself into his arms and declare her affections, but she was aware of their audience. It would be better to wait until they were alone before making declarations of love. She couldn’t be certain what might follow. Hopefully some ravishment.
As she stepped away, Dacian grasped her arms instead, and shook her slightly. “What were you thinking, moving in front of me like that?” To her astonishment, she felt her own feet lift off the floor. “Don’t ever try to take a bullet for me again!”
“You forget your strength, your grace,” she said with reproof.
He put her down again with a grin. “I’ll forget a lot more than that soon, you infuriating woman.”
“That brandy seems to be potent stuff,” remarked Marigold. “Maybe I should try some.”
Wooten sniffed. “You don’t need brandy to make a fool of yourself.”
“Says he who exposed his equipment to the drawing room.”
“I was being heroic!”
“Ha,” muttered Marigold, obviously displeased that she had been relegated to a mere spectator instead of a participant, if there was nudity to be had.
“Where’s Yvette?” Robert interposed. Hearing his question, Judith pointedly turned away from Dacian to look at Marigold.
Marigold shrugged. “I don’t know. She vanished.” Her tone was brittle.
“Probably in the belfry,” said Wooten. “Reflecting on her sins. I told you not to trust her.”
“That’s not helpful, Wooten,” said Judith. “Yvette was heroic too, you realise. She betrayed her blood companion to rescue Marigold.”
“Only after entrapping me,” snapped Marigold. “And it is not rescuing me to lock me in a clock!”
Judith sighed. “I quite sympathise. It’s a bit like being sent to Falmouth.”
“It is not!” said Dacian. “I would never lock you in a clock.”
“See!” said Marigold. “Even the duke wouldn’t do it.”
Judith shook her head. “Yvette also told us what Harriet planned to do,” she pointed out. “And she led me out of the maze. She has tried to make amends for her complicity.”
Marigold folded her arms and looked mutinous. “Clearly she is ashamed enough to keep away.”
Judith swept her eyes over the kitchen, wondering if a bat lurked in a high pot or behind a window. “Hm. I wonder.”
At that moment, a clatter came from the front of the house. Judith extricated her hand from Dacian’s and turned to face the kitchen door. “Quick, Marigold, hide! You too, Wooten!” Judith did not want the captain to find them in breach of the Edicts. There was too much else to explain.
Marigold hopped smartly off the table and vanished over the side, while Wooten sighed lugubriously and allowed himself to be swept into Dacian’s pocket. Dacian raised a brow, and Judith merely nodded towards the kitchen door, where the sounds of booted heels rapidly approached.
Sure enough, the harassed countenance of Captain Drumpellier soon presented itself. His red uniform looked a bit more creased than it had an hour ago, and his sensitive brow was marked with a heavy line.
He stared round at the company, until his eyes found Dacian, whereupon he gave a deep bow. “Your grace! Is it indeed the Duke of Sargen?”
Dacian cast an amused glance at Judith, then pulled himself up. “It is indeed I.” Then he recalled his grievance. “And I’ll thank you not to haul this lady around the countryside; that honour belongs only to me.” He folded his arms forbiddingly across his chest and glowered at the newcomer.
Captain Drumpellier seemed unaffected. He gave a grim smile and turned to Judith. “My apologies, my lady. I have since realised that you must be Lady Avely, the new mistress of Castle Lanyon. You will have your work cut out for you there, I’m afraid.”
“Oh?” said Judith cautiously.
Drumpellier did not enlighten her; he merely turned back to Dacian. “And I must thank you for leading me to this reprobate.” His expression hardened. “Your grace, you are under arrest for the misuse of your Gift, three times resulting in fatality. As a representative of the Musor Custos, I bind you for punishment.”
Everyone stared, speechless. For a moment, the only sound in the kitchen was the faint bubbling from the kettle.
The captain lifted a single hand.
Pressure clapped through the room like soundless thunder. For a moment, Judith thought it was Dacian’s Gift, then she realised he was raising his arms in defence.
The captain’s own Impact lashed out and bound Dacian to stillness.
Dacian’s black eyes snapped with anger, but his limbs were now contained by the very same power that he had tried to wield. His handsome face was fixed in a frown of repudiation, his shoulders stiff, while thwarted pressure thrummed in the air.
Captain Drumpellier strode over to the frozen figure of the duke, his own brow tense with effort. “I hereby take you into custody, for the verdict of the Custos.” He wrapped a cursory arm around the ducal waist and nodded abruptly to Judith. “Lady Avely, good evening. I hope to see you at Castle Lanyon soon.”
Judith drew air back into her lungs. “What? You can’t just snatch him away like that! We have evidence!” She turned to Selina. “Tell him how you helped!”
Selina’s eyes were wide as she stared at the duke’s frozen form. She put her shoulders back and said quietly, “You must know that I contributed to the force that threw Lord Garvey.”
Captain Drumpellier raised a brow. “Is that so? Weren’t you a young woman at the time?”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid that I don’t believe you.”
Beside him, Dacian seemed to quiver, even as he was held still by Drumpellier’s power.
“You must!” said Judith in outrage. “She is an Impactor, and she was defending herself!”
The captain frowned. “Regardless, the duke’s power was the primary cause of death - and it was his third offence. He must be restrained. Or are you suggesting that I restrain you as well, ma’am?” he said to Selina.
Selina’s eyes lowered, and there was a long pause. Then she folded her hands and shook her head slowly. Judith’s mouth fell open in anger.
Captain Drumpellier gave a small, sharp bow, and pulled a pocket watch out with his other hand. “Good evening,” he said. And then, “ Veho .”
“No!” shouted Judith, but it was too late.
Dacian and Drumpellier dissolved before her eyes, even as Dacian’s gaze locked with hers in a flash of warning. The space that held him soon showed nothing but an empty stone wall.
“No!” she screamed again, then turned with fury on Selina. “How dare you? He could be stripped of his power, and his memory! You should have pressed the matter!”
Yet it had been Judith who had brought the Musor Custos right to him.
“You think I should run the same risk?” Selina leaned shakily against the stove. “I have three children, Lady Avely! I cannot afford that sort of punishment!”
Judith ground her teeth together, tears rising in her eyes. “He cannot be taken from me. Not now.”
Marigold’s head popped out from under the table. “We will go after him, and rescue him. Wooten, too, I suppose - he was hiding in the duke’s pocket.”
“That’s a good point,” said Robert, from his bench, “Wooten might help him. Have they Travelled back to Pendennis Castle, do you think?”
“I don’t know!” Judith’s mind was blank with shock. “I suppose it is possible. That was where I found the captain, in a stone room in a tower. It must be a base for the Custos as well as the army.” That explained why his name had rung falsely, if he were there under two different guises.
“Well, then,” said Marigold. “We follow them. The Custos must surely take evidence before they mete out punishment.”
Robert nodded. “We’ll get you into the fort, Judith, even if it takes another Illusion to do it. Or,” he added, “you could simply use the duke’s ring again?”
Judith clutched at her pocket, where she had stowed the topaz ring to keep it safe. Thankfully, she felt the hard circle of it under the fabric. Did she dare Travel after the duke, into the den of the Musor Custos?
Of course she did.
She only hoped that she wouldn’t be too late.
To be continued!
in Lady Avely’s Guide to Guile and Peril
(releasing 2025)