18

Camouflage and Camaraderie

At last, Candle sat up, reluctant to leave the warm slates. She looked up towards the keep, or where the keep should have been. Instead of the rough sandstone walls of the castle, a giant craggy tor jutted out of the ground, rising hundreds of feet into the air looking like nothing more than an oddly shaped bit of mountain. The subtle veins of magic were the only indication that the keep was really there, hidden beneath the illusion. It was well done, Candle had to admit.

She sighed and climbed slowly down the side of the building.

I might be the most foolish person in the whole world, she thought, as she retraced her steps through the compound, legs dragging. While she had been sleeping various teams of inmates had been hard at work transforming the outbuildings and the curtain walls. The place was a mess of paint and netting and foliage. She wondered if it would adequately disguise the place when viewed from above. She was unwillingly impressed with the Mester's creativity. It was a practical, earthy creativity, to be sure, but she doubted her parents could have done any better with the materials at hand.

She slowed as she neared the entrance to the keep, unsure of her reception, looking over her shoulder at the moongate. Perhaps she should leave now, while she was able but...the Mester had let her go after all. She hadn't killed her, just cut her up a bit.

I need higher standards, Candle thought. But she could leave at any time. She would leave, as soon as she could figure out where she could go. That was really the crux of the matter. She had nowhere to turn. And while there was a demon here at least she was treated like a person. A sane person. A person who had value. And the food was pretty good, that was important. Her stomach rumbled in agreement.

"Your team are in the mess," called the Gate Guardian, as she plodded through the courtyard of the moongate and she nodded her thanks. "They told me to tell you if I saw you."

She slunk through the halls and stood awkwardly in the doorway of the dining hall. She spotted her team the same moment they saw her. All four of them turned towards her, frowning, and her courage nearly failed her. Then Delen waved, her frown lifting and Candle gained control of her legs and made them walk towards the group.

"Are you alright?" asked Delen, as she came over. "The Mester said you might have gone home."

"I'm fine," said Candle, embarrassment reddening her cheeks as she slunk onto the bench. They were all staring at her. She wished they would stop staring at her. "I just had some...bad news I needed to think about."

"Was it that man from Hanternos?" asked Delen. "Did you know him?"

Candle's throat muscles constricted and she gripped the table in front of her so she wouldn't fall off the bench.

"The Mester also said not to bother her with questions," said Jory, with a pointed look at Delen. Pasco pushed a plate towards Candle. "Pasco says you look hungry."

"I'm always hungry," she said, smiling up the tall, pale man who smiled back. The others all laughed, even Locryn, which seemed to break the tension, much to Candle's relief. Jory disappeared from the table and brought back large mugs of tea for everyone which they all slurped appreciatively as Candle piled her plate high with potato skattys.

"So what did I miss?" she asked, around a mouthful.

"Absolutely nothing," said Delen.

"Dawn watch was uneventful," said Jory, "and we spent the rest of the morning helping to camouflage some of the outbuildings. The Mester doesn't want to waste glamour on every single building. Just the forge and the Keep."

"Does she really think the invaders will attack us?" said Candle. The thought was sobering.

"Yes," said Locryn.

"The Mester likes to be prepared," said Jory, frowning at him. "There's no reason to think they will."

"Oh please, why did they attack the people at Sterlester? It's probably just a matter of time."

"All the more reason to get everything hidden," said Jory, swigging the last of his tea and smacking his lips. "They can't attack us if they can't find us. Prevention being better than cure and all that. Some of the refugees told the Mester the invaders have ships that fly in the air. And machines that kill people."

"Machines?" said Locryn. "Like a waterwheel? Or a windmill? How could that kill anyone?"

Jory shrugged.

"Let's hope we don't find out," he said.

Candle thought of Jotham's bloody side and shuddered.

After lunch, they went back into the grounds to carry on working the camouflage.

"Normally we'd be training now," said Jory, as they cut and tied branches together, securing them onto the roof of the building Candle had been hiding on, "but it will have to wait until the castle is disguised. The Mester wants all other work to stop until it's done."

Locryn and Delen were tying dull green nets over the boundary wall. The idea was that the runes would still work their magic, but the hard lines of stone would be obscured from the air. Like everything else in Gwavas, the boundary wall was built to mean business. It was easily three times the height of the one that surrounded Hanternos and gleamed with recently refreshed magic.

"Do you think it will work?" said Delen, from the top of the wall. Jory shrugged.

"I don't see why not. There are lots of ruins dotted all over, we just need to hide the main bulk of the buildings and make the rest look like the fell...or ruined."

Candle looked over her shoulder at the glamoured keep.

"What if it rains?" she said, tying a branch securely in place with brown twine.

"Surely the invaders wouldn't be out in the rain," said Delen, shocked.

"I doubt we need to worry about that," said Jory, casting his eye critically over the work they had done so far. "How would they power their ships in the wet?"

"What if they come on foot?" said Locryn. "It's hardly foolproof."

"Then we will defend ourselves," said Jory. "But there's no point looking for trouble." But he looked worried. Candle tied another bundle together thoughtfully and handed it up to Delen.

"What kind of training do you usually do?"

"Hand to hand combat, archery, tracking, swordplay. Shade traps. How to kill wights. That sort of thing. I'll have to give some thought to what sort of weapons to train you with."

Candle felt a thrill of excitement.

"Me?"

"Well I don't think teaching you archery will be particularly useful," Jory said, heaving over a branch from a massive fire-rose tree. "Not with your eyes as they are. Mmm, we'll have to see. The Mester likes everyone to have a good grounding in multiple weapons but it takes time."

"Staff," said Locryn, from up on the wall.

"Good idea," said Jory, "That would give you some reach since-"

"Since she's tiny."

"And she'd be less likely to stab herself."

"Can you kill a wight with a staff?" Candle asked, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

"You can once it has an iron tip," said Jory, heaving over a large armful of branches. "But we'll start you out with a blunt one. As Locryn so tactfully points out, you'd be less likely to hurt yourself. Plus it takes a lot of strength to kill a wight."

"I know," said Candle, but too quietly for anyone but Pasco to hear her. She rubbed her left arm that was still ringed in bruises in the shape of the wight's hand. It was still swollen and the bruises were turning an ugly yellow and purple.

"We should be able to start tomorrow or the next day," said Jory, looking around at the grounds where other teams were engaged in similar camouflaging activities. The castle's grounds were disappearing under the mess of foliage, mottled green painted canvas and ragged netting. "Unless the Mester sends us out to help the villages prepare."

"I doubt they would accept our help," said Delen. "You know how proud the aetheling lordlings can be."

"Let's hope this is all an overreaction," said Jory, "as the Kenning says."

"Is that what they said?" asked Locryn. "An overreaction? To everyone in Sterlester being slaughtered?"

Jory shrugged.

"The aethelings seem to think it must be some sort of terrible misunderstanding. I hope they are right."

They worked on in silence, finishing two more roofs and painting the walls a dull, mottled green that should help it blend into the surrounding fell.

A uniformed runner came down the hill and skidded to a halt when he saw Jory.

"Syr, the Mester wants to see your group in her study," he said, "Right away." Candle's stomach constricted. "Is Meraud Loveday here?" he asked. "The Mester says if Meraud is here she must wear a scarf or a hood." And he ran off.

"What in the name of the Ancestor's is all that about?" asked Delen, swivelling to look a Candle who shrugged.

"Best do as she says," said Jory, packing away the tools. "The Mester always has her reasons."

The Lady of the Keep looked up sharply as they shuffled into her study, her eyes searching among them for Candle. She smiled when she saw her, draped and muffled in Pasco's old scarf. Candle did not return the smile and made sure to stand at the back, as close to the door as she could get. She closed her eyes behind her blindfold so she wouldn't have to look at the Mester's demon.

"Jory, I'm sending your unit to Dawn Watch," the Mester said, without preamble.

"The ruin on the Enchantments?"

"Yes," she said, leaning back in her chair and clasping her hands together. "I have two reasons, firstly I want eyes on as many mountain tops as possible, watching for those confounded airships. If you recall - the moongate at the peak was completed last summer, and I feel now is a good time to make the rest of the place habitable. Just in case."

"Just in case of what?" asked Locryn.

"In case the worst happens," said the Mester, turning her sardonic gaze on him. "You and I share a world view, Locryn," she said, her lip twitching upward. "We both like to prepare for the worst. I think it is highly unlikely that Gwavas will be compromised, but I don't like to keep all my eggs in one basket. Just in case."

"And the second reason?" asked Jory.

"Ah." She looked at Candle, who opened her eyes apprehensively. "I had another ...uninvited visitor this afternoon," she said, "looking for you, Meraud." Candle's heart lurched. How did Rasmus know she was at Gwavas? Or was he just guessing? The Mester was still talking and Candle made an effort to listen through her private fog of fear and frustration. "So it's better," the Mester was saying, "if she completes her training somewhere less public. I know it's a little unusual but the circumstances are unusual. I leave her training in your capable hands, Jory, Pasco, and I trust you to keep the rest of them safe."

They both nodded, looking serious. Delen squeezed Candle's shoulder, making her jump.

"Meraud, I promise I will deal with this particular problem as soon as circumstances allow."

Candle nodded, sceptical. Was the Mester aware that Rasmus had a demon? How in the Night did she expect to 'deal' with it? She looked up at Moloch speculatively. Did demons fight each other? Or was their allegiance to their own kind?

"Syr, what would you like us to do at the ruin?" asked Jory.

"Most importantly post a watch at all times, get word to the Keep about anything you see. Try and clear the ruin of wights, have a go at making it habitable. I'm sorry to send you up there at this time of year, but I'll make sure you have whatever supplies you need. Send down the measurements of any iron doors you need to be made, and I'll get the blacksmith on it right away."

She surveyed them over the tops of her fingers.

"Alright then, I look forward to your first report. Good luck and Ancestors be with you."