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schooling, ‘I was told by Tutor Aspall that Magog and Gogmagog were sent to the White Hall to do service as porters. Perhaps they serve King Hal still, for I don’t know how long giants live.’
    Gwydion grunted. ‘Long, but not that long. Today’s Magog and Gogmagog are not the same as those giants of yore, yet they serve the present king after their own fashion, for today they are two great statues which stand in niches on each side of the throne. They look down upon the king’sproceedings and call out to give warning whenever his throne is in danger.’
    ‘They must be crying themselves hoarse at present,’ Will muttered.
    ‘And so it may be for the next few months, unless I am allowed to set to work to prevent the catastrophe.’
    ‘What will you do?’ Willow asked.
    ‘Do? I must do many things. But first there is a far greater work of un-doing. As I have already told you, I must pull down the grey skeins of sorcery that festoon the White Hall. Maskull has dwelt here for many a month, and in that time he has crept over every wall and tower like a longlegged spider, spinning webs of deceit about the royal house. Those spells must be swept away before the king and his captor come to town. I must find the workshop of Maskull’s wickedness.’ He sighed and glanced to his left. ‘What say we slake our thirsts at The Bell Without?’
    ‘Bell without what?’ Willow asked.
    ‘Without its clapper, I guess,’ Will said. ‘The Fellows of the Charterhouse yonder are of the White Order, and they keep a ritual of silence.’
    ‘A creditable surmise, but you guess wrongly. The inn is called The Bell Without, because it is without the walls. There is another alehouse inside the City called The Bell Within.’
    Will smiled at that. ‘They seem to like their drink here. That’s a good sign, at least, for those who can drink and be merry are good men indeed!’
    He was pleased they were taking a rest, for his throat was dry. As he dismounted and looked around the inn yard his thoughts lingered on the captive King Hal. The queen had wrought her easy-melting king like wax, but since the fight at Delamprey, she and her allies had fled into the north to find succour and no doubt try to regroup their forces. The captured king had been invited to ride in DukeRichard’s company. The plain truth was that the king was now as much in the duke’s power as he had once been in his wife’s.
    ‘What do you think Duke Richard intends?’ Will asked as they sat down. ‘Do you think he’ll play fair, or does he mean to keep the king under his thumb?’
    The wizard drew a deep breath. ‘That is a most pertinent question. In truth, I am no longer able to read Friend Richard’s heart in matters of state. As for Hal, he wants little more than to be allowed to return to a scholarly cell and to peruse the parchments and papers that are his delight. But still he knows he is the king, and he may not prove as pliable to Friend Richard’s plan as the latter might wish.’
    Willow frowned. ‘Do you remember what Mother Brig once told Duke Richard at the Ewle revel at Ludford all those years ago? She warned him that he’d die if ever he dared lay his hand upon the enchanted chair. Could she have meant the throne of the Realm do you think?’
    The wizard became circumspect. ‘We all die – eventually.’
    ‘But she said more than that,’ Willow insisted. ‘She said that Duke Richard would die in his first fight after he touched the chair.’
    ‘You have a surpassing excellent memory, my dear.’
    ‘It was a surpassing memorable night, Master Gwydion. But tell us – did Mother Brig really mean the throne of the Realm? And is what she foretells bound to come to pass?’
    Gwydion looked down the passageway towards the stables. ‘Brighid makes many a claim regarding future happenings. Some are important, while others are not. It is the way with seers.’
    ‘But all she says does come to pass, one way or another,’ Will said, not