Page 43 of The Herlequin: Pitch & Sickle 6

‘It’s purpose varies according to the Erlking’s whim. Sometimes they are bounty hunters, chasing down runaways or traitors of the court. Right now, the Wild Hunt is yet another hindrance for the Lady to deal with. Another banging drum to draw their attention.’

‘Then best we move very quietly amongst all that noise.’ Silas took hold of the reins. In his mind hovered the disturbing image of Pitch in the grip of wild panic, his flame reduced to candlelight.

‘My thoughts exactly. Are you ready?’

‘Almost. Would you mind passing my coat, please.’ He nodded to where the Inverness lay on one of the stacked bales behind her.

‘Certainly.’

She handed it over. The touch of the thick wool was heavenly. Just to see that splendid work of tailoring brought Silas some measure of calm. The unexpected thoughtfulness that had brought the coat into existence made his pulse quicken.

While Sybilla settled herself beside one of the horses, Silas shrugged on the coat with practiced ease. The fit was possibly more perfect than the original. He transferred the bandalore from his trousers into one of the deep pockets. ‘Right, now I’m ready.’

They led the horses on, the brougham settling in behind them. The carriage house was a decent distance from the house, with a wide sweeping drive that would bring them around eventually to the front door.

‘Silas, I must tell you’– Sybilla was sombre, which raised Silas’s concerns at once– ‘that the tarts were indeed poisoned. A considerable amount of Gu.’

A muscle in Silas’s jaw ticked as pressed his teeth. Might the Gu have done its worst this time?

‘I see.’

‘And something else–’

‘Good god,’ he muttered.

‘Blood.’

Silas peered over the bay’s ears. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘The tarts were baked with blood. It was in the icing too.’

‘Whose blood?’

‘I have no way of knowing.’

A flash of the greensward came to Silas. The poor young man with his throat slit. ‘The tarts were filled with blood magick?’

‘No, magick does not do well in the Melusine tunnels, as any living thing, and would not have been able to breach Harvington Hall’s barrier. I can’t say for certain, but I think perhaps the blood was set there in readiness. If their plans had gone another way…they would have had it there at their disposal. Ready to be used for casting perhaps? But I truly can’t say for certain. Blood magick is unique to maleficium. I know very little of its intricacies.’

‘And they knew Pitch to be partial to those sweets. If he had eaten the blasted things…Christ, if anyone else in the household had eaten them…’ Silas held so tightly to the reins that his nails bit into the palm of his hand. ‘Sybilla, there is something you should know about Pitch’s situation. I doubt he will have told you.’

‘Told me what, Silas?’

‘Pitch is not quite himself.’

They were almost at the turn that would take them to the front of the house.

‘Silas! Are you building the fucking carriage?’ Pitch’s voice carried high and loud across the damp air. ‘Stop patting the fleabags and bring them at once. We are ready to leave.’

Sybilla sighed. ‘Sounds himself to me. Are you right with this pair? I best tend to Hastings.’

‘Yes, yes. I’ll be fine.’

Silas led the horses on, quickening their pace now. He rounded the side of the house, to where the front door with its fanned stone steps and white railings came into view. Pitch was at the open doorway, arms full of bundles of who-knew-what. Tilly sat upon Forneus on the gravelled drive, smiling broadly as she caught sight of Silas. But it was Charlie, making his way down the steps, that had Silas’s attention.

‘What the bloody hell is he doing?’

But it was very obvious what Charlie was doing. He was holding the lieutenant. Standing there with Edward cradled in his arms, and showing no sign that the man was any burden at all.