The companions were quiet as they retreated back to Ned's bedroom. Pat was stunned by Cousin Michael's offer to perform the black magic. "What could the king mean by this cousin? The Priests of Phaeton have always been pure, so what Order in their ranks would allow such debauchery as black magic?"
"The dark half to the fire," Ned informed her. He shuffled over to the bed and wearily seated himself. "You dwelt with the half that worships a god of purification, but others worship him as a god of destruction and darkness. This Cousin Michael is of that chaotic order that inhabits the north and west of Galaron."
"Then this is ordained by Phaeton?" she asked him.
Ned sighed. "You will soon learn that nothing is a perfect black nor a perfect white, and no one is as they seem."
Pat frowned, but abstained from any further argument. "Then if that is true, what are we to do? How are we to proceed?" she countered.
Ned leaned his staff against the end of the bed, and pulled out a nightcap and slippers from his cloak. He plopped it on his head and the slippers onto his feet. "I say this is the perfect time for a good night's rest. The king will keep to his word and have us out of his sight before breakfast."
Pat rolled her eyes, but led Ruth back to their room. When they'd gone Fred turned to his master. "Do you think we will run into trouble out there?"
Ned chuckled, and there was no mirth in that sound. "No, I don't think we will run into trouble. I know we will find trouble out there."
The pair retired, but Fred couldn't sleep. He kept thinking back to the priest and their mission to raise the dead king. He was haunted by images of a rotting corpse bursting from the ground and grabbing him.
Then something did grab him. Fred opened his mouth to scream, but a hand clapped over his face and stifled his scream to a squeal. Someone bent over him and long hair brushed against his cheek. "Quiet," Lady Martley whispered. "I mean you no harm. Please come with me."
She pulled her hand away and stood. Fred sat up and watched her retreat out of the room and into the hall. He glanced over to the bed and saw the covers rise and fall with the snoring sounds. Fred thought to wake Ned, but Martley urgently beckoned him from the doorway. He rose and followed her out into the hall. She closed the door and turned to clasp his hands in hers. He'd never seen so many emotions on a single person's face. The most prominent was fear. "Do you intend to go with Ned and the others tomorrow?" she asked him. He frowned, but nodded. "I beg you to do me a single favor, and not follow him. He doesn't understand the dangers."
"What are the dangers?" Fred asked her.
Martley pursed her lips together and shook her head. "I cannot tell you, but know that I have only your best interest in my heart." She squeezed his hands and knelt in front of him. He had a great view down her dress. "Please promise me you won't travel with your friends tomorrow."
Fred cringed. They would think him a coward. "I can't, but maybe if you told Ned-"
"No!" she hurriedly whispered. She took a deep breath and smiled. "I cannot tell him, nor anyone else. I'm bound by a promise, but rest assured I mean only for your safety. Convince your friends to stay if you must, but please don't go to the valley."
"We have to go, the king's ordered us," he reminded her. "And I can't leave my friends. They might need me."
They heard a noise from inside the bedroom; Ned was stirring. Martley stood and opened the door for Fred. There was a sad smile on her lips. "Very well, brave castor. Face the demons, and embark on your destiny."
Fred wanted to ask her about that destiny part, but she put her hand on his back and shoved him into the room. He stumbled and rolled onto his bed, and when he caught himself and turned around the door was shut. Ned rolled over and his old eyes blinked at the boy. "Something the matter?" he asked Fred.
"What? Oh, no, it's nothing." Fred shook himself and slid beneath his blankets. He kept his eyes on the door, and Ned frowned. The boy lied to him, but he would wait until Fred was ready to tell him what was the matter.
The next morning, long before sunrise, the companions were awoken by the castle guards and escorted downstairs. They were given a quick, cold breakfast, and Cousin Michael, Lady Martley, and Hawkins greeted them at the front doors. Martley stepped forward and clasped Pat's hands. She looked over the young girl with soft eyes. "May you be protected and return here safely," she prayed.
Pat smiled and bowed her head; she felt no more animosity toward the woman. Fred didn't think Pat would be so chummy if she knew about their rendezvous last night. "I thank you."
Hawkins had a bundle in his hands, and presented it to Pat. "You shouldn't leave without this," he told her.
Pat took the bundle and unwrapped the cloth to find her family's sword. In the shock of the king's announcement she'd forgotten about this most precious gift. "Thank you, captain. Keep the castle while I'm gone."
"And you keep yourself," he replied.
"It's time we left," Cousin Michael spoke up.
The four companions were flanked by the promised contingency of guards and banner men with Cousin Michael at the head. Horses waited in the courtyard, and they had their first hiccup. Fred had never ridden a horse, and the horses smelled Ruth's true identity. It came that when everyone else mounted, those two had a little more trouble. Fred's horse smelled his fear, and Ruth's horse feared her smell, so both horses protested their riders by rearing up and whinnying.
The stable men held the reins and calmed the steeds, but the horses refused their riders. The delay irritated Cousin Michael. "If you cannot ride then you are best left here."
Fred didn't like that suggestion. "What about Fluffy? I'm sure Canto will let us take him," he suggested.
The guardsmen and priest stared at him blankly. "What is this Fluffy?" Cousin Michael asked him.
"He's my cantankus. I'm sure he'd be willing to take me where we're going," Fred replied.
"A cantankus? The one held by Canto?" Hawkins repeated, and Fred nodded. "I'm afraid they're both under house arrest at the moment for assaulting several citizens."
Fred paled, and whipped his head over to Ned. "We can't leave them like that! We need to go see them!"
"We haven't time for your foolishness," Cousin Michael insisted. He turned his horse toward the castle gates. "Ride a horse or be left behind."
"The boy will ride with me, and the girl with Lady Lamikan," Ned suggested. Fred was grudgingly pushed up in front of Ned, and Ruth in back of Pat, though it took all of Pat's skills to keep their horse calm.
With everyone saddled they traveled through the city and out the gate, where they turned to the northeast and the mountains that stood there. A narrow path wound its way up through the mountains, and they followed in single file until they reached the top at midday.
The view before them was unobstructed for miles. Spread out before them lay a wide river valley hemmed in on all sides by low hills. The river flowed from the mountain on which they stood and ended its journey at their destination, a large, peaked mountain off in the distance. A crag of earth stuck out from the foot of the mountain and projected itself over the plain. Beneath the crag was a wide, open area devoid of vegetation and Fred saw that something shimmer among the desolation, but he couldn't make out what it was.
The path they followed was narrow along the whole length of the valley, and on both sides was a heavy forest of tall, old trees and thick brush. A single open spot lay halfway between where they stood and the crag. That would be their single stopping point.
The distance across the plains was about one hundred miles through wilderness, over a day's worth of riding. Cousin Michael led the way and was a harsh taskmaster. He hurried them along, and by the first night the youngsters had sore butts and were grateful when darkness fell. They made camp beside the river, and Cousin Michael instructed the guards and banner men to stand watch in the woods. The four friends settled themselves as comfortably as they could manage against a few spare logs with Cousin Michael, and Ned glanced at their guide. "You mentioned you had heard of me. I hope the tales were flattering."
Cousin Michael smirked and gave a nod. "Indeed, many of them were very flattering. You have helped the Order a great many times." The youngsters' ears perked up at mention of Ned's elusive past.
"I have helped the Priests of Phaeton, not the Order," Ned corrected him.
Cousin Michael chuckled. "I suppose that is a more accurate view of things," he agreed. "But where do your questions lead? Surely you don't wish for idle chat."
"You well know I intend to speak with you of our mission, otherwise you wouldn't have set the guards so far off." The youngsters glanced around and realized Ned was right; the guards were beyond earshot.
The priest of Phaeton leaned back against his log and pulled out the black book. "You wish to know what secrets I hold in this book, don't you?"
Ned surprised him by shaking his head. "I wish for you to burn it and lose the knowledge inside your head."
Cousin Michael narrowed his eyes and hurriedly pushed the book back into his cloak. "I'm afraid I can't do that. You see, the cousins of the Order would be very angry with me if I destroyed such valuable information. They only allowed the book to be carried outside the Order's house on the wishes of our patron, King Stephen."
Ned raised an eyebrow. "So this comes down to money?"
Cousin Michael chuckled. "Doesn't it always? Do not both our Orders exist because there is payment to be had for our services?"
"So King Stephen has requested your unique services, and you come at the promise of what? A new wing to your house?" Pat covered her mouth to stifle her gasp.
The priest shook his head. "No, a new house situated in the very heart of Galaron. There we will offer our services to the citizens, for a price, of course."
Pat sprang to her feet with her hands clenched at her sides. "This-this is disgusting!" Her angered eyes flashed at the priest. "What man of Phaeton would allow such debasement of their god?"
"A god cannot keep us clothed nor feed us," Cousin Michael countered with a scowl. "Though I'm sure your priests would know nothing about such deprivations. With you as their ward they were amply provided for by Galaron's treasuries, and offered free protection from the likes of Sir Edwin here."
"Ned. Edwin is no longer my name," the old man countered.
Cousin Michael stood and his eyes swept over the group. "Whatever alias you would use, know this. I have been entrusted with resurrecting the dead king, and intend to do the bidding of my patron. Efforts to stop me will fail, and I will not hesitate to order the guards to execute you. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," Ned replied.