The Jade Boy (22 page)

This time it really was his mother.

“There – and not before time. I knew my Nelly wouldn’t let me down,” Gabriel said quietly.

“Remember me telling you about one of my young actresses who had done well for herself at court? Well, that would be Nelly here, and she’s our back-up plan.”

When the two women were level with the king they each sank into a deep curtsey.

The king stared at Sarah. Jem heard someone say, “Isn’t that Lord Verrer’s daughter? I thought she died years ago,” as another gasp rippled round the assembled court.

By now the king seemed completely bemused. “Sarah? My dear, where the devil have you been?”

He raised her to her feet and stared intently. “Still a beauty, I see. Is this some part of this odd entertainment?” He turned to the other woman.

“And Nell – you too? What is the meaning of this, have you taken to the stage again?”

The red-haired woman rose from her curtsey, her round dimpled face wearing a cheery grin, and said loudly. “I think you should listen to what this lady has to say Char… Your Majesty. Go on, Sarah, tell him.”

Jem’s mother blushed. “I– I believe the boy on stage to be speaking the truth, Your Majesty. He is my son, Jem – Jeremy – and he is almost thirteen years old.”

Sarah spoke the last words slowly and deliberately. A peculiar expression flashed across Charles’s face. He turned to look at Jem, and after a long pause he spoke loudly so that everyone could hear his words.

“And a fine boy he is, too. Come here, lad, and bring your friends.”

Jem, Tolly and Gabriel climbed down from the stage and came to stand next to Ann. As they made another bow, Jem was aware of a small, black and white shape scampering across the dust to join them. The king’s little dogs, who had been loitering beneath the thrones dais, started to bark as Cleo leapt up onto Tolly’s shoulder.

Sarah spoke again. “Your Majesty, I do not entirely understand what is happening,” she said. “But I would not have come today if I did not know my son to be speaking the truth – and in terrible danger because of it. Mistress Gwynn here was sent by Mr Jericho to fetch me.”

Sarah bit her lip and smiled sadly down at Jem, continuing, “Sire, I know my Jem to be a good and
honest boy. There is dark sorcery afoot and I can prove it to you.”

She looked back, her gaze now directed over the king’s shoulder. The Duke of Bellingdon was now trying to push his way through the crowd to the furthest steps, pulling the veiled woman roughly along behind him. The king turned to follow Sarah’s gaze and motioned to the guards with his hand.

Immediately, they blocked the duke’s path and also that of Avebury and Kilheron, who were trying to sneak down the steps on the opposite side of the platform.

Meanwhile, in the crowd milling around on the lower garden terraces, a space had formed around the puffing forms of Alderman Pinchbeck and his plump, overdressed wife and daughters. Courtiers were now staring at the four of them suspiciously.

Jem’s mother called out. “Mary, you must show them. Let them see what you have hidden from everyone except me.”

The veiled woman shrugged herself free from the duke’s grasp. Jem heard the duchess’s muffled cry from beneath the veil. “No! I cannot.”

She sounded wheezy, as if she found it difficult to breathe.

Sarah tried again. “Please, Mary, you must, for all our sakes.”

The duchess stopped dead, like a dark statue, then she turned slowly towards the king and began to speak.

“I– I too believe the boy speaks the truth, Your Majesty. There is evil abroad in London.”

“Silence, you stupid, foolish woman.” The Duke of Bellingdon was furious, but Charles raised a hand to stop him.

“Pray continue, my lady,” the king said.

The duchess took a step away from the duke and spoke again an odd raspy voice.

“My husband has been thick with Cazalon and the other men these boys have named for many months, although I do not know why.”

She paused for moment. “But I do know, sire, that I have been vain and foolish and that Count Cazalon is an evil, vicious man. He promised to make me beautiful again… but look at what he has done to me.”

The duchess raised her veil and turned slowly so that everyone present could see her face. There was a horrible silence that lasted just a moment, then a murmur of shock rippled through the crowd.

On one side, the duchess’s face and throat were completely black. Instead of skin, the woman was now covered in close-packed, lumpy
serpent-like
scales that glistened darkly. Her right eye was completely hidden beneath a hood of twitching black scabs that rose across her forehead and crept across half of her hairless scalp.

“Count Cazalon is a sorcerer and a devil,” she whispered.

Someone in the crowd began to scream and Mary crumpled to the floor, sobbing.

Bellingdon gasped and backed away from his wife while the king stared at her in pity.

“Call the physician. Take the duchess to him immediately,” he said, and two guards gathered her up and helped her from the garden.

The terraces fell silent. Jem felt a stab of sorrow for the duchess as the court watched her being escorted from the garden.

When the doors to the palace closed Ann looked up at the king, her voice quavering a little as she spoke. “Sire, in the quiver in your hand there, is written evidence of the plot – a contract signed in the traitors’ blood. It is the scroll with the red ribbon.”

Charles pulled the paper from the quiver and
unfurled it. He scrutinised the names signed at the end and swore softly under his breath.

A harsh voice rang out. It was the duke.

“So, I have nurtured a nest of vipers in my own house. Trying to shield your bastard son are you, Sarah – the shameful secret you tried to hide from the world? I gave a place to the pair of you because of your friendship with my wife and this is how you repay me.”

Two guards now had Bellingdon in their grasp. The duke glared at Sarah and then at Jem.

“And as for you, boy, you are an ungrateful little thief as well as base born! How dare you steal my papers!”

“I am surprised to hear you speak so coarsely, George.” The king’s voice was slow and deadly. “But, at least you admit this document is yours?”

The duke blustered for a moment and then all the fight left him. He hung limply between the guards and his magnificent wig fell to the dust. Jem was amazed to see that he was completely bald.

Charles spoke again. “Arrest all of the traitors. Take them to the Tower and interrogate them.”

He turned to Jem, Tolly, Ann and Gabriel. “Now, you will all come with me and tell me everything
you know. Starting from the beginning. You too, my ladies,” he added, looking at Sarah and Nell.

The king and the little party crossed the terraced garden towards the Palace. As they entered Whitehall, the king looked intently at Jem. He nodded, smiled and then turned to Sarah.

“So, madam. You must tell me all that has happened in the dozen or so years since we last met.”

By nightfall on September the first, the danger was over and London was safe.

Word came to the palace that four of the traitors were now safely imprisoned in the Tower of London, and, using the map Jem had taken from the duke’s secret drawer, the king’s troops had gone out into the city and arrested all the conspirators’ paid henchmen before they had a chance to even start the fires.

The afternoon and most of the evening had passed in a blur.

Charles had taken them all inside the palace, to an echoing council chamber. At first Jem had been tongue-tied and overawed, but the king and his ministers listened carefully as the boy falteringly explained everything he knew about the plot. Occasionally Ann and Tolly were asked about Cazalon and Malfurneaux Place, but Jem noticed his friends were always careful not to mention their powers. Taking their lead, he said nothing that
might give them away. Sorcery – of any kind – was punishable by death.

The king’s eyes were often on Sarah as Jem spoke. Charles smiled warmly, and, Jem thought, a little sadly, when she nodded or spoke to confirm her son’s story.

“The black-hearted blaggards!” the king bellowed when Jem explained that the boxes delivered to Ludlow House contained models of the houses the conspirators planned to build for themselves.

“So, they thought they could burn my city and my people to satisfy their own vanity, eh?” The king brought his fist down hard on the gilded table top in front of him and the little dogs lolling underneath whimpered and darted out into the room.

“I’ll have their heads for target practice!” He roared.

Stars twinkled overhead as the children and Gabriel sat on the steps to the stage in the palace courtyard. Ann shivered despite the warm night air and pulled a red woollen shawl tight around her shoulders. They were all grateful to have changed out of their costumes.

“I know we should be celebrating, but I can’t help thinking that something is still wrong,” she said, looking down at Cleo. The monkey was curled in her lap.

Jem nodded. “It was almost too easy, wasn’t it? I still can’t believe it.”

“I know, but we all heard what they said about Malfurneax Place…” Tolly murmured, drawing absent-mindedly in the dust with a stick. “When they went to arrest Cazalon, all they found were the abbey ruins and a great smoking pit where the house should have been.”

Jem shuddered.

“Who knows?” Gabriel shrugged his shoulders and took a swig from a large bottle. “When Cazalon’s plan was revealed, maybe the Devil rose up and spirited him away?”

“Perhaps,” whispered Ann, “But I can’t shake off the feeling that something is wrong.”

“All that matters now is that Jem’s plan worked like a dream – with a little help from good old Nelly.”

Gabriel chuckled and took another glug. “Good drop this. From the king’s own cellar.”

“Er… Mr Jericho, about Nelly and my mother. How did you… I mean, when did you—” Jem stopped
short as Cleo suddenly stiffened and stared intently at the doors leading into the palace. Her tail swished.

The double doors swung back and a phalanx of soldiers carrying flaming torches clattered down the steps. There was a fanfare and seconds later the king appeared at the head of a glittering procession of ministers and courtiers, Jem’s mother among them.

As the royal party crossed the terrace, the children sprang to their feet. Ann sank into a low curtsey while Jem, Tolly and Jericho bowed.

“Up! Up!” ordered the king. He grinned as he caught sight of Jericho trying to hide the bottle behind his back. Jericho flushed and blustered.

“I– I was just celebrating, Sire.”

Charles laughed.

“As well you might, sir! It seems that you and your friends here have saved my city… so I have come to reward you all for your loyalty. And I will begin with the monkey. Cleo, isn’t it?”

The children nodded in unison.

“Bring her to me.”

Tolly shot Jem a look of surprised delight, took a step forward and looked intently at Cleo. She chattered and leapt up to his shoulder and the two of them approached the king. Tolly bent his head
as Charles reached out to stroke Cleo. He grinned appreciatively and chuckled.

“She is a beauty – a fine little animal. Certainly the most loyal monkey in my kingdom. And in recognition of that fact, I present her with this favour.”

Charles snapped his fingers and a herald stepped forward with a velvet box. The king opened it and produced a golden medal on a thick red ribbon. He smiled at Tolly.

“Keep her still, lad, while I hang it round her neck. And then I have something for you. Something for all of you, in fact, I—”

A jagged bolt of lightning scythed past the gleaming medal in the king’s hand and exploded into the ground just beside him. For just a second the terrace was flooded with a light brighter than midday sunshine.

Jem saw every face, every jewel, every lace cuff, every wig and every wrinkle illuminated with searing clarity.

“God’s teeth, but that was close!” The king took a step back. Cleo buried her trembling head in Tolly’s neck.

Something hit the top of Jem’s head. He winced
as something else hit his shoulder, and yelped and rubbed his head as yet another sharp something caught him above the temple. He looked up in amazement then quickly bent over again, shielding his eyes as hail stones the size of marbles started to rattle and bounce on the terraces around them.

The courtiers gasped and rustled off to find shelter, several of them losing their wigs in the violence of the hailstorm.

And then it began to snow.

As the snowflakes fell thick and fast, they doused most of the torches, and the terrace became grey and shrouded with shadows.

“’Tis extraordinary!” Charles was laughing. “Our end-of-summer revels have brought in the winter!”

A courtier threw a cloak around the king’s shoulders and pulled him under the outspread branches of a huge oak that sprouted from the centre of the terrace.

Jem heard Jericho shout behind him, “Over here, lad. This freak weather won’t last long!”

He spun round. Through the whirling snow Jem could just make out the shape of the showman’s broad bottom as it disappeared beneath the timber platform of the stage. Wrapping his arms tight
around his body, Jem battled his way towards the stage, bending low to creep under the boards to join the others.

“W-w-where’s Ann?” Tolly’s teeth chattered.

“I thought she was with you,” Jem answered peering into the gloom beneath the stage. Gabriel, Tolly and Cleo were sheltering there, but Ann wasn’t with them.

The wood above began to groan and splinter as the snowstorm became a howling blizzard. There was a jagged tearing sound as the stage hangings were ripped away into the greyness.

“Ann!” Jem called, but his voice was lost in the storm. Tolly and Jericho yelled too and Cleo crouched just beneath the jutting edge of the stage, her shoulders huddled up to her ears as she stared out into the garden. In a short time her nose and whiskers were encrusted with snow.

“Look! Over there,” Tolly pointed towards a faint patch of light where the flames of a guttering torch, stuck into the earth beneath a tree, showed a pathway. Jem screwed up his eyes and squinted into the falling snow. He saw a flash of red – Ann’s shawl. There she was! But then he saw something else that chilled his blood even more than the freezing snow.

The brief gash of red in the whiteness was instantly masked by something dark and iridescent as a figure stepped out of the whirling snowstorm. bent forward and, in one smooth sweep, folded the girl into its cloak. It was if she had been swallowed by a giant beetle.

Then the torchlight died.

“No!”

Jem slipped and scrambled from under the stage and Tolly followed. Far behind, Gabriel’s voice called them back, but the words were lost on the storm.

Jem and Tolly hauled themselves through the blizzard to the spot where Cazalon had snatched Ann, but as they tried to battle ahead, the snow fell thicker and the ice-cold wind burned deeper into their flesh.

Within seconds they were lost in the howling, frozen dark.

“Ann! Where are you?” Tolly’s stricken voice was deadened by the storm. Even if Ann had answered they wouldn’t have heard her.

“It’s no good, Jem. She’s not here.” Tolly sounded desperate.

“We can’t let him take her,” Jem shouted back. “We have to keep going. If we can’t move in this,
then neither can Cazalon. Come on. Stay with me.”

The boys pressed forward again, but now the snow was up to their knees. Their light summer clothes were frozen against their skin.

After several yards more, Jem stopped. “I– I c-c-can’t see anything, Tolly. C-c-can you?” He was so numb he could hardly speak, but he forced himself to call out, “Ann! Are you there?”

The answer was a single massive clap of thunder that rocked the terrace. Then everything was silent.

Instantly, the blizzard ceased and within seconds stars began to twinkle again overhead.

Snow-crusted people began to move. They crawled out from their hiding spaces, wrapped their arms around their frozen bodies and crunched through the snow.

“Ann! Ann!” Tolly’s eyes were huge as he scanned the dazed people now surging forth around them. Cleo scurried from beneath the stage and raced through the snow to leap up to his shoulder. She too scoured the faces of the courtiers, her nose twitching and her tail flicking.

“Jemmy. Thank the Lord you are safe.” Sarah staggered out from beneath the tattered royal stand and reached out to touch her son’s ice-dusted face.
Then she enveloped him in a fierce hug.

“The lad is safe then?” The king crunched over to them carrying a flaring torch. As he scanned the devastated gardens, his face was grim. He was no longer amused. “Sorcery!” he muttered.

Jem broke from his mother’s embrace and climbed onto an ornamental plinth that jutted up through the whiteness. He slipped as he tried to balance on the icy stone, gripping the handles of the huge urn that stood on the top of the plinth to keep himself upright.

“Ann, where are you? Are you hurt? Please try to answer me!” he shouted.

“Ann!” yelled Tolly, searching the frozen terrace with desperate eyes.

They both knew she wasn’t there.

“He took her,” muttered Jem.“Cazalon took her!”

Suddenly, a man appeared at the doorway that led out of the palace. He stopped and stared in amazement at the snowy scene. Then he pulled himself together and ran down the frosty steps, skidding to a halt at the centre of the terrace.

“Where is His Majesty? I must see the king,” he shouted urgently.

The man’s eyes were bulging in his red face and
sweat ran down his forehead. When he spoke again it was as if the words were wrapped around his tongue.

“F– fire! It started in P– Pudding Lane and is spreading like the plague. London is burning!”