Call of the Kings by Chris Page Page B

all the courtiers and noblemen of the land would be a formal affair and require, at the very least, the usually scruffy little tyro to look presentable. The only problem was that Swein’s father, Godwine, and his two brothers, Beorn and Harold, would also be there. As earls of the realm their presence was required at such a grand state occasion.
    Twilight was looking forward to the encounter.
    When they arrived they were greeted by the archbishop, who quickly drew Twilight and Tara, resplendent in a green floor length silk dress made by Katre to match her eyes, to one side.
    ‘I have just had some news that I must share with you,’ he said behind his hand. ‘I placed the Abbess of Leominster in a quiet retreat the church has in the country. We use it for contemplation and recuperation for those in the front line who need to reacquaint themselves with God. This afternoon news reached me that she has left the retreat and is on her way to Denmark . . . to join Swein.’
    Twilight raised an eyebrow at Tara, who was plainly surprised by the news.
    ‘I thought I’d better tell you before Godwine and his sons begin to gloat because they’re sure to know. Probably arranged her escape and passage.’
    ‘Thank you,’ said the old wizard. ‘Somehow, I’m not as surprised as I should be.’
    ‘Well I am,’ said Tara with her hands on her hips. ‘I believed her.’
    The archbishop ushered them into the line that was waiting to be introduced to the king and queen. Twilight spoke to Tara’s mind.
    The lesson here is a salutary one. When we rescued her I didn’t explore Edgiva’s mind out of deference to her plight. Had I done so, what do you think I would have found? A great big candle burning brightly for the unspeakable - and as far as I’m concerned unknowable - abuse handed out to her by ‘that ogre’ Swein.
    Tara replied and then continued.
    He was right. He said she wouldn’t want to leave him . . . ever.
    In front of them Robert of Jumieges bowed and kissed the king’s heavily be-ringed hand, then introduced them both as ‘Tara and Twilight, the remarkable wizards I told you about, your highness.’
    Edward the Confessor was a short, portly man with alert brown eyes and a pointed beard. He held his hand out to Tara, who didn’t know whether to kiss it or shake it, so she ignored it and fixed him with her bright green eyes.
    ‘Tara, the tyro Irish wizard. I’ve heard a great deal about you, young lady. I hope you’re not going to turn any of my guests into goats tonight.’ He raised his eyebrows and rounded his eyes in mock severity for an answer.
    ‘Depends,’ said Tara, twisting her silk dress into a nervous ball at the hem.
    ‘On what, pray?’ The king’s eyes sparkled.
    ‘On how well you look after my master here.’ Tara indicated Twilight.
    The king laughed and moved his eyes to Twilight and bowed. ‘You, sir, are most welcome. Your tyro Tara is a most mettlesome creature and must be a delight to teach in your magical ways. I am looking forward to discussing many aspects of this with you and would take it as a great honour if you would sit next to me during our meal this evening.’
    ‘It would be a pleasure, my lord,’ Twilight replied, giving him a short bow in return.
    It would be a pleasure, my lord! Tara mimicked to his mind.
    You’ll be the one turned into a goat if you don’t behave yourself, he replied, moving her forward with a gentle push to Queen Ealdgyth with a smile of greeting on his face.
    Before the meal began there was a period of introductions between other guests during which wine was served in great pewter tumblers. Twilight and Tara refused. Although she was still eating, drinking, and sleeping, the enchantments were gradually taking over these functions. Alcohol, however, was not allowed by any veneficus. It interfered with the necessary physiology and could cause any number of serious mishaps should they be called upon to use their skills whilst under its