Jack of Ravens

2

Niamh sat on a balcony encircling the highest tower in her palace. She looked even more beautiful in the morning sun, her smile enigmatic and alluring. Lugh stood next to her, by comparison drawn and weary; the scars of his ordeal lay as heavily on his face as they did on his mind. Nearby the Mocker sang a lilting song softly to himself.

‘Jack. Thank you for coming,’ Niamh said sweetly. ‘I would like to extend my thanks for the part you played in returning my brother to me.’

Lugh bowed slightly; the move was awkward and clearly out of character. ‘I too would like to express my gratitude. I have never been close to Fragile Creatures, but my sister has recently spoken to me of the value of your kind, and in you her words are made flesh.’

Church nodded. ‘You had a close call.’

‘We are already taking steps to ensure no other Golden One should fall under the spell of the Enemy in such a manner,’ Niamh said.

‘But there are other gods beside the Golden Ones,’ Church pointed out. ‘That one at Roanoke Island was Apollo.’ He looked at Lugh. ‘Another sun god. I think they chose you two first to strike a blow against the light … against hope.’

‘We are aware of others like us, who reside close to the Far Lands, but we have never sought dealings with them,’ Lugh said.

‘Because it would mean facing up to the reality of your “unique” status. You’re not so special, just another species vying for survival,’ Church said.

‘The Golden Ones are singular in their blindness, like children who think themselves the centre of Existence,’ the Mocker said with a grin. Niamh glared at him. ‘You wished a jester to speak the truths that no one else would dare,’ he added.

‘I think I have given you too much freedom,’ Niamh said.

‘There is much to consider,’ Lugh interjected. ‘My capture was not meant to be. I saw ahead, as does your friend True Thomas, and nothing suggested the events of recent times. The Enemy is changing the course of things. What lies ahead is now fluid. We can no longer rely on the comfort of what could or should have happened.’

‘Can you rally your people to your side?’ Church asked. ‘The Enemy must be confronted before they gain too much of an upper hand.’

‘We have already opened negotiations with the other great courts, but it will not be an easy task,’ Niamh said. ‘Some remain blind to the perils before us.’

‘As of now, my court and my sister’s will stand with you and the Quincunx,’ Lugh said.

Though it was delivered in an understated way, Church sensed the importance of this statement for Lugh. Church thanked him graciously.

‘One other thing,’ Niamh said with a note of sadness. ‘I promised I would free you from your obligation if you helped bring my brother back to me. I am true to my word. No more will you be at my behest.’

Church’s relief was tempered when he glanced at Jerzy squatting further along the balcony, humming to himself. The air of misery that always surrounded the Mocker was palpable.

‘I have a request,’ he said. ‘Free Jerzy instead of me. He has a more pressing need. There are people here he may want to return to.’

Niamh gave Church a puzzled but warm look and turned to the Mocker. ‘So be it. You have been a trustworthy if increasingly irritating servant under the guidance of Jack Churchill, Mocker. I hereby free you of your obligation.’

Jerzy’s eyes darted between Church and Niamh, at first unable to comprehend what he was hearing. The fixed grin lent a surreal aspect to the intensity of emotions playing out in his eyes.

‘Good friend, is this true?’ he asked with a quavering voice. ‘You would sacrifice your own wellbeing for me?’

‘You deserve it, Jerzy. There’ll be other chances for me.’

Tears welled up in Jerzy’s eyes, and for a moment Church thought the Mocker was going to be sick. Then he bounded past Church into the palace, a thin, desperate wailing trailing behind him.