Sixty-One Nails Part 89

"Yes, sir," he rumbled.

Garvin looked steadily at him. "Don't you start," he said.

Tate grinned at me, then left to gather the others together. Garvin nodded to Blackbird and pulled the door closed behind him, giving us our privacy. "Warder Dogstar?" she said.

"It was the price of freedom, though I'm not exactly free. They swore me into service." I showed her the cut across my wrist where the blood had smeared and was already clotting.

"She knew, Niall. All that time, she knew. When Kareesh offered you the sight of something she said 'courts', plural."

"I thought they would let us go, that they would have to. They nearly didn't."

"It's enough, Niall. What will you do now?"

"Garvin said he'd train me. He sounded like he wasn't going to enjoy it."

"Will you stay here?"

"I don't know. I think they were as surprised as I was. Mellion suggested it and I don't think Garvin could find a way to turn him down."

"You don't mess with Mellion," agreed Blackbird. "And what about you?" I asked her.

"I had to swear to keep the secret," she said. "If I tell another soul it will kill me and the baby. "

"Our son."

"I know, they told me too. They have offered me a bursary, an income to help me through the months ahead in return for my silence. "

"You accepted? "

"There wasn't really much of a choice."

"They offered me a boon. I asked for somewhere for you to live that's secure while you're pregnant and for them to accept Alex into the courts, when and if she comes into her gifts. That was before they swore me in as a warder, though. "

"Did they agree? "

"They did, yes."

"Then it is done. They will not go back on their word. "

"So you have somewhere to live."

"We have somewhere," she said, pressing her hand to my cheek. "I don't want you too far away."

That possessive glint had appeared in her eye. "Don't say it."

"Why not?" she said, turning her face up to be kissed. "It's true."

I kissed her, and she laughed, throwing her hands around my neck. I pressed my lips to hers and whirled her around. It didn't stop her though. I had to release her eventually.

She stood before me, breathless but determined, eyes full of green fire.

"Mine," she said.

About the Author.

Mike Shevdon's love of Fantasy & SF started in the 1970s with C S Lewis, Robert Heinlein and Isaac Asimov, and continued through Alan Garner, Ursula Le Guin and Barbara Hambly. More recent influences include Mike Carey, Phil Rickman, Neil Gaiman and Robert Crais, among many others.

He has studied martial arts for many years, aikido and archery mainly. Friends have sometimes remarked that his pastimes always seem to involve something sharp or pointy. The pen should therefore be no surprise, though he's still trying to figure out how to get an edge on a laptop.

Mike lives in Bedfords.h.i.+re, England, with his wife and son, where he pursues the various masteries of weapons, technology, and cookery.

www.shevdon.com.

Acknowledgments.

A story is not created alone, and there are many people to thank for the help and guidance they have offered in the creation of this book.

Firstly, Scott, who when I sent him my first raw efforts, simply requested more. That quiet encouragement kept me writing, dude, so you have only yourself to blame.

Thanks and hugs to my test readers: Ameen, Bob & Tina, Jo, Juliet, Kev, Lauri, Rachel, Sarah, Simon and Tor. You are to me what every writer needs and few have. You rock. Also, thanks to Aggy for the donation of the little computer so that I could write on holiday in Italy. It worked like a dream, mate, and I still use it. Particular thanks to Andrew and Joy of the Welly Writers who pulled no punches and left no page unturned. Your frankness, your openness, your ability to be objectively critical and still be positive are a credit to you both. You made me look at my writing in new ways. Good luck with your own projects, may the muse be ever there for you.

Special thanks to Jennifer, my agent, for a sharp critical eye, spot-on feedback and rock-solid representation, and to Marc at Angry Robot, both for having the nerve to publish the monster and for solving the conundrum around the finale. You're both a joy to work with. Thanks to Jane Follett of the Royal Courts of Justice for permission to use the quotation from the booklet concerning the Quit Rents Ceremony and to the staff of the RCJ for the courteous and dignified way they dealt with my rather odd enquiries about the workings of the Royal Court of Justice. It's appreciated.

And to my whole family, who have been unshakably supportive throughout this journey. You have kept faith with me when the odds seemed insurmountable and put up with endless hours of anti-social typing, moody plotting and faltering drafts. Bless you all.

Finally, huge thanks to my wife, Sue, and my son, Leo, for their patience, wisdom, insight and love. You are my world. Without you I would not be able to be who I am.

EXTRAS.

The Quit Rent Ceremony.

It has been said many times that truth is stranger than fiction and this book is, in some ways, a reflection of that. I came across the Ceremony for the Annual Rendering of the Quit Rents during research for this novel, as a reference in a book on English folklore. The ceremony itself is entirely real and is the oldest legal ceremony in England with the exception of the Royal Coronation. The ceremony has been performed annually since 1211 between the feast of St Michael and St Martin, usually early in October.

The origin of the ceremony goes back to the time of William the Conqueror. The county of Shrops.h.i.+re, then known as Salop, was granted to Roger de Montgomerie, a senior counsellor of William, in 1071, along with many other holdings. Roger was 1st Earl of Shrewsbury and lived until 1094 when he was succeeded by his younger son, Hugh de Montgomerie who became 2nd Earl of Shrewsbury and died without children.

The land then pa.s.sed to Hugh's older brother in Normandy, Robert de Belleme who had a reputation for starting wars and kidnapping his neighbour's children. Robert de Belleme was exiled to Normandy in 1102 after conspiring to depose Henry I and the land in Salop was forfeit. The majority of this land was granted to men loyal to the king, but a piece of wasteland, known as the Moors, just south of Bridgnorth, was retained and held directly of the Crown.

The earliest record of a tenant is of Nicholas de Morrs who occupied 80 acres of land, 20 acres of meadow and 80 acres of pasture from 1211 upon the rendering of two knives, one blunt and one sharp. The purpose of the knives was to create tally sticks for the receipt of taxes where a hazel rod of one year's growth (roughly the length of a man's forearm) was notched with the blunt knife to represent payment. The sharp knife was then used to split the rod in two, forming two corresponding halves of a receipt.

In 1521, the obligation to provide the knives pa.s.sed to six Mercers and then in 1556 to Richard Mylles. In that year one of the city men attending for the confirmation of the sheriffs attempted to perform the service with the knives. Neither knife would cut the hazel rod and Richard Mylles was fined ten s.h.i.+llings for contempt.

At some point the two knives were replaced with a hatchet and a bill-hook (a hedging tool) and the hazel rod with f.a.ggots, small logs of wood. A hatchet and bill-hook used for the ceremony at this time can be seen in the Northgate Museum at Bridgnorth. They were probably made specifically for the ceremony as they are plated, possibly with silver.

Nowadays, two knives are made each year, commissioned by the Wors.h.i.+pful Company of Cutlers for the City of London, and sometimes displayed afterwards in the exhibition cabinets in the main hall of the Royal Courts of Justice where the ceremony continues to this day.

The role of the Queen's Remembrancer (or King's Remembrancer, if the monarch is male) dates back to 1164 when Richard of Ilchester, Archdeacon of Poitiers and later Bishop of Winchester was asked by the King to stand alongside the Treasurer and "Put the King in remembrance of all things owing to the King". There was also a Lord Treasurer's Remembrancer whose role was to "Know and keep all the secrets of the Kingdom", a post first held by Master Thomas Brown a former Lord Treasurer of Count Roger of Sicily. Around 1830, the tax gathering element of these roles was transferred to the newly formed Treasury under the new Chancellor of the Exchequer. The word Exchequer is derived from the chequered cloth laid over a counting table where debts were set into the squares on one side and then, as they were paid, transferred to the other. Inns that bear the name "The Chequers" were often where the tax collections were held and the Prime Minister's country retreat is still called Chequers, possibly due to links with the Exchequer.

In recent times, the ceremonial elements of the role of Queen's Remembrancer remain with the senior master of the Queen's Bench Division of the Supreme Court who still wears the tricorn hat of a cursitor baron on top of a full wig when presiding over the ceremony. A photo of the Queen's Remembrancer, fully robed and wearing the wig and tricorn hat, with a horse shoe in one hand and one of the knives in the other may be seen in Keepers of the Kingdom, The Ancient Officers of Britain by Alistair Bruce, Julian Calder and Mark Cator (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1999).

There is some debate around the circ.u.mstances of the establishment of the forge in Tweezers Alley, but it is likely that the forge was originally erected as a temporary facility in the corner of the tournament fields of the Knights Templar, who had the land close to the banks of the Thames near where Tweezers Alley now stands. The tenant, Walter le Brun, was allowed to go quit of the rent for the forge in return for the provision of six horseshoes suitable for a Flemish war horse and sixty-one nails, ten for each shoe and one extra, perhaps, as a spare. The rent is first entered into the rolls of the Exchequer in 1235. This continued until 1361 when the rent was commuted to eighteen pennies, provided that the tenant, Emma of Tewkesbury, provided shoes for the ceremony to continue. The shoes she presented are still in use today and are the oldest horseshoes known to exist in England. I have not discovered what purpose the Queen's Remembrancer would have for the horseshoes and nails; some things will always remain a mystery.

London is, of course, famous for one river, the Thames, but in fact has many. The Fleet river is one of the major tributaries flowing into the Thames and comes out at Blackfriars just near the Mermaid Theatre. The river used to flow openly and was navigable in its lower reaches, but became increasingly silted up and was used more and more as a sewer as London grew. It was eventually built over completely and now runs above ground from its source in Hampstead down to Kings Cross where it is channelled underground. I cannot say whether there is an island with an anvil or not.

Finally, during the writing of this book, it became necessary to invent a hammer in the story so that the Quick Knife might be remade. You can imagine, therefore, how delighted I was to learn that there are two hammers used in the ceremony of beating of the bounds of the parish of St Clement Danes, just across from the Royal Courts of Justice. They were used to keep order at the feast which is held after the parish bounds had been walked and were presented by Elizabeth I in 1573 and 1598 respectively. Each hammer is mounted with silver, and has a Tudor rose and the letters ER upon it, together with the anchor of St Clement Danes. This is recorded in Curious Survivals by Dr George C Williamson (Herbert Jenkins, 1923), along with many other curiosities. The hammers are still used ceremonially today.

The Quit Rents Ceremony, along with the confirmation of the Sheriffs for the City of London, is conducted every year at the Royal Courts of Justice and members of the public may attend, though the number attending may be limited by s.p.a.ce. In 2011 it will celebrate its eight hundredth anniversary.

Mike Shevdon.

The Courts of the Feyre vol.II.

The Road to Bedlam.

Here is a brief extract...

Kayleigh was running out of places to look. It wasn't like Alex to skip lessons like this. Well OK, just that once, but they'd done it together, scaring each other with the prospect of getting caught in town when they should be at school. This was different. They had arranged to meet before Geography so that they could swap ideas on the homework, so where was she? She went through the outer doors, peeping around the wall in case a teacher lurked there. The playground was empty, no teachers and no Alex. She was about to go back into the building when she heard a noise from the PE block. It was more of a yell than a scream and it wasn't Alex's voice, but there shouldn't be anyone in the PE block at this time.

She checked the playground again and ran across the tarmac, praying that the teachers in the rooms facing the playground were now engaged with their midmorning cla.s.ses and too busy to be looking out the windows. She reached the side door to the gym and slipped through, breathing hard. The echo from her school shoes on the wooden floor where outdoor footwear wasn't allowed made her walk around the edge rather than crossing the open s.p.a.ce. She stopped and listened. There were raised voices coming from the girl's changing room.

She tiptoed quickly down the pa.s.sage and stopped. The voices were louder. She leaned on the door, pus.h.i.+ng it open slightly. She recognised Tracy Welham's voice and the unmistakable smell of cigarettes. She was about to ease the door closed again and leave them to coat their lungs with tar when she heard Alex.

"I won't tell anyone, honest, but you have to let me past."

"Have to, do I?" challenged Tracy. She was in the year above them and had a bad reputation.

"You'd better let me go now," Alex a.s.serted, "or something bad is going to happen."

"Yeah," Tracy said. "Something bad is going to happen. Grab her."

It was the sound of the scuffle that made Kayleigh push into the changing rooms. Two other girls, mates of Tracy's, were holding Alex, pus.h.i.+ng her into one of the cubicles. At the sound of the door, Tracy turned to face Kayleigh.

"You'd better let her go or I'm gonna get the teachers." Kayleigh raised her voice, keen to make sure the others heard her.