Days of the Dead Book 2: The Beggar's Tomb

Chapter 14: The puzzle

Gideon
The last of the trace nearly saps my strength, but I take myself to Harlech, instead of Windsor. For one thing, I need the amulet worked on. For another, I'm a sentimental sod and want to hug my kid again, in this time.
Myrddin doesn't mind being woken up, considering he wasn't actually asleep, and after sobbing and snuggling my chubby one year old, I set about finding the others. The nurses are more than used to me just showing up and collecting him, and are more than glad to get rid of him apparently he's been naughty and refusing to sleep.
"Just want to play don't you?" I ask, kissing his soft hair. He grins and pats my face, quite thrilled I showed up to give him a little carry around.
I predictably find Lowri and the duke in the dungeons, fussing with torture equipment.
"Gideon!" Lowri squeals, leaping up and running over to embrace me. She spins around happily twice before going back to the mail she was fussing with.
"You look sad, boy," the duke grunts, looking up a bit, "Everything all right?"
"Yeah," I say, sitting down with Myrddin in my lap. "I've got a full report, but for the moment, I'm trying to solve this."
I hold out the amulet to Lowri, "Do you think you can work it? I can't."
"No—that's sorcery magic," she says, frowning at it, "Advanced as well. I don't even know if Jac could do it, but I can ask him in the morning if you like?"
"Eh, a bit urgent. And no one at Windsor really sleeps anyway. It'll be fine," I say, hugging Myrddin who is playing with the ties on my shirt.
"Where did you get it?" The Duke asks, "And what is it?"
"It's an amulet, I've spent all day getting it, which is complicated. I should be getting back to Windsor actually. They've been attacked by ghosts. I just wanted to see if Lowri could undo the thing for me, or work it, because I'd sooner have her do it than Courtenay," I say.
"No other sorcerers over there you halfway trust?" The Duke asks.
"Yeah, but he's Lowri's age about, so you know, we're trying to limit the general, ah, child endangerment and child ghost hunting?" I say.
"I love ghosts," Lowri pouts.
"Yeah, I know, see above about limiting child endangerment, anyway I did ask you," I say, taking it back.
"How are things fairing? Any sign of trouble?"
"Trouble directly affecting us? No. Trouble definitely caused by King Henry of his own design and threatening his family and indirectly endangering us? Yes," I sigh.
"So situation normal?"
"Just about."
I would really rather get a good night's sleep here at Harlech, but I've been away from Windsor too long as it is. As much I'd prefer to lie on the floor the nursery here, underneath a rug, and wake up and play with Myrddin six times, I know there's likely to be trouble back at Windsor before long. Kit is whipped, but he's not beaten. And he'll be angry we outsmarted him again. I mean, we didn't technically outsmart him. He's just a mediocre assassin, however the point stands.
I use the last of my strength to get myself back to Windsor. I want to seek out Gareth, but I give up and just go to the apartments we were put up in. Elis and Rhiannon are in one room, with Dancer asleep on the chair, and Sadie asleep on the sofa.
I just crawl under the foot of the mattress, so as not to disturb anybody.
"Is that Gideon?" Elis mumbles, rolling over in his sleep.
"Unless other people sleep under mattresses," Rhiannon, not at all moving.
"Sorry, go back to sleep, checked on the kids they're fine, Rhi, remind me to tell you something funny about Myrddin when we've got a moment it's not urgent."
"Okay, goodnight," she mumbles.
I wake up with the dawn, and slip off before everyone else wakes properly. I don't actually have any urgent news, apparently I have to rat the kids out to Rhiannon but like it's gonna be a while before we can do anything about that and I too get to unnecessarily involve myself in that end of the 100 years war. Yes, of course I'm going to do that. No, the last six books clearly haven't taught me anything.
I get dressed quickly, strap on my sword, and head out. Time to find a sorcerer. Yes, I could show the amulet to Courtenay, but the thing is Courtenay's first priority is Henry and his second priority is whatever scheme Henry currently has going. And I've been involved in the plot long enough to know that Henry usually has an angle, an alternate angle, and then a secret angle only he and Courtenay know about. So I'm playing my cards close to my chest as well. I'll figure out the mystery of the amulet, without Courtenay's help. Then we'll try to use it. I'll let him help me use it, sure, but I'd like to know how it works first.
I find Owen Tudor first, he's predictably in his uniform and wide awake despite the early hour, carrying a set of swords.
"Owen, do you know where the kids are?" I ask.
"Which ones? Doesn't matter, no I don't know where any of them are," he says.
"Your two I mean?" I ask.
"I said what I said. But I did simplify that situation, you're very welcome," he says, walking on, "If you find them don't tell me. I'd like to be surprised when we all die."
"Nobody is executing you," I groan, very exasperated, considering he does wind up getting executed. That's years from now though and it's not this family's fault actually, it's War of the Roses and the Yorks catch him.
"I'll believe that when my head remains attached," Owen says, not turning around. He's this dramatic all the time so no one really pays note to this exchange.
I roll my eyes and walk on. Fine. I'll find the kids my way. Find food and you usually find kids. Also, I'm hungry so it's a win win.
I go to the servant's mess hall, which is where all the good food is. It's also very noisy. Everyone who works at the castle will cycle through here, in shifts, to have all their meals. First usually will be the maids and porters who have been working for hours now, then as the rest of the household wakes they'll trade out. Pages will eat down here as well, which is why I'm hoping to get lucky and find the boys.
Sure enough, they're at a back table. Edmund and Jasper Tudor, on either side of The Exeter's boy, Henry Holland, all three boys are tied together. Well, Owen did say he'd simplified things. They're all equally grubby looking like they slept outside. Edmund's pale hair is nearly brown with dirt, and his face is smeared with mud. Henry Holland is clearly sobbing because of the rope and trying to escape, while the Tudor boys eat and mostly ignore him. Jasper is seated backwards in a chair like he's never used furniture before, legs twisted and crossed through the rungs and, I don't know he must be double jointed or something to accomplish that.
"Good morning," I say, coming to sit down with them, "May I join you?"
"Please get it off? It hurts, I'll be good Gideon, I promise," Henry Holland sobs, holding up his hands which are tied to the other boy's hands.
"Aw, what happened?" I ask, coming over to see. It's clearly burning him.
"It only hurts if you try to use magic, but he won't stop," Edmund explains.
"Our father and the Archbishop are very creative, as it happens," Jasper says, dryly.
"We weren't doing anything," Edmund says.
"I doubt that, but whatever, hold still. I can get it off," I say, getting out my knife.
"Really?" Jasper asks, hopefully.
"Sure, just try to stay out from under foot today, all right?" I ask.
"Please get it off," Henry Holland whimpers, tears bubbling in his big blue eyes.
"Shh," I murmur a couple of spells then slice through the ropes with ease. Courtenay probably wasn't expecting me to bother to get the boys out. I don't know why. He knows I love chaos.
"Thank you, I'll be good I promise, I won't try to stab anything," Henry Holland sobs, hugging my leg.
"Shh, it's okay, that's a really low bar, but okay," I say, patting his head, "Now, I had a favor to ask of you."
"Sure," Jasper says, amicably.
"What?" Edmund, suspiciously.
"This," I say, sitting down and setting the amulet down on the table between us, "It can only be operated by sorcery magic. Not mine, so I can't open it. I'm going to turn it over to the Archbishop, but I'd like to know how it works first."
"My hands hurt," Henry Holland mumbles, just following me to crawl in my lap and cry into my shirt. He's slim and small for his age, so he fits just fine. His poor hands are badly burnt. I sigh a little, hugging him. Poor crazy thing. He really can't help being the way he is, anymore than the rest of us can.
Edmund picks the amulet up, frowning. The lines grow red with magic and then fade just as quickly.
"It hurts," he frowns, putting it down, "Like it just wants more and more energy."
"So don't feed it, here," Jasper says, picking it up. His eyes glow red with magic, "It's got a pull, you solve the maze, there, and then whatever gets inside."
"How'd you know that?" Edmund asks, about to take it from his little brother.
"If you're quiet you can hear the spells on it, here," Jasper says, hovering the box in his hand. Sure enough, the red lines glow and slowly start to separate, to reveal gaps in the box followed by bright white light. That magic I can feel. Jasper snaps it back closed, "It's a little puzzle; it's not hard."
"Probably just meant to slow down the user," I say, "Thank you both."
"Glad to be of service," Edmund says, tapping his wrist which has a bit of a rope burn on it, "Think you helped us more."
"Here," Jasper hands back the amulet, "I don't know how long I could hold it open, but that's how it's done. It's not hard."
"Do you know what happens to whatever is put inside?" I ask.
"It just said it stays there, sorry," Jasper shrugs a little.
"Good enough. Courtenay and I will be able to handle that," I say, patting Henry Holland who is still weeping bitterly. "Seriously, is that all that Courtenay did to you?"
"He said if he caught him setting curses on people again, he'd strip his magic," Jasper says.
"Who was he setting curses on?" I ask.
"Courtenay," all three boys say, in unison.
"That fits, do not get into trouble on his account. And Harry you've got new friends now you don't need to attack people. No matter how annoying they are, despite their really good hair," I say, patting Henry Holland.
"I don't like him," the boy snarls.
"Well, no one but King Henry does, but leave it? I'll try to practice swords later with you boys, but for now keep out of the way?" I ask. I feel bad. They're only little of course they're in trouble, in this big castle with no one properly minding them.
"Really?" Jasper asks, hopefully.
"Can we try to cast spells on you?" Edmund asks, hopefully.
"Definitely. I don't know what my schedule will look like today. I've got to go and talk to the Archbishop, so try to be quiet all right?" I ask. I'd suggest they go out past the stables and play, but I don't want them that far from the palace if and when Kit does attack again.
"We will," Jasper nods.
"We promise," Edmund says.
"Do you want me to take you to your mum, Harry?" I ask, patting the boy who is still in my lap.
"No. She hates me. She says I'm mad," the boy mutters. In case it wasn't already clear, the boy is, most definitely, mad. Poor scrap. It isn't his fault though; he doesn't know how he is.
"Yeah? We like you like this, come on, why don't you show your new friends the armory, eh? Your dad might be there he—he's very used to you," I say, setting him down in front of me and carefully wiping his tears from his soft cheeks.
He nods a little bit, lip quivering then hugs me around the neck one more time. He whispers, in his serial killer demon child voice, "Thank you for saving me. I no longer want to eat your face."
"Okay, I'm honored," I say, petting some dirt out of his hair, "And then maybe they'll let you boys help with the horses? Eh? Pick a fun job before your dad picks a rotten one?"
"Good idea, thank you Gideon," Jasper says.
"If you die, I'll keep some of your skin," Henry Holland says, hugging me one more time.
"That's—okay, yeah thanks," I say, patting his head. He's so crazy, we should do something about that. I realize we're not going to.
I let the boys scurry off then set out myself to go and track down Courtenay. He's predictably easy to find, in the library, with Prince Harry.
Courtenay looks as lovely as ever, in his priestly robes, dark hair smoothed out of his face and cold blue eyes translucent. Prince Harry looks a little better than when I saw him last. He's still dressed completely in black. His hair is brushed, though, and he's cradling the big black puppy in his arms.
"Archbishop, I really would appreciate your council if you—oh come in Gideon. The Archbishop and I were just chatting," Prince Harry says, nicely.
"Your Highness," I bow a little and ignore Courtenay, "Did you sleep some?"
"I did a little. My father is meeting with the Privy Council, and I'm getting some much needed rest, and time with my brothers," Prince Harry says, nicely, "Have you had any luck?"
"Yes, got an amulet, first though I want to talk to the Archbishop about a rope?" I ask, looking at him pointedly.
"The Exeter's boy was attempting to curse me. Again. His mother requested I prevent him from being charged with murder before age twelve, he's one attempted homicide away from me stripping his magic completely, and Tudor's bastards have been here one day and already he's weaponized them," Courtenay says, with no shame.
"His hands hurt, and he's little. I think you've spent enough fucking time in my head to know why it doesn't do any fucking good to tie people up, might as well let them die," I snarl, incensed.
"It's not the same, Gideon," Courtenay sighs.
"Damn close," I say.
"Oh don't argue! And please don't swear—look Archbishop you can't use your witchcraft on the children. We did discuss this when Edmund was teething," Prince Harry intervenes, quickly.
"He was trying to kill people," Courtenay says.
"Yeah, and he's tame if you're nice to him so try being nice to him! He doesn't know he's different," I say, icily.
"He can learn not to kill people!"
"Not like that!"
"Look, look, Archbishop I take it you tied up the Exeter's boy because of his hot temper?" Prince Harry severely understates the child's problems.
"Something of that kind," Courtenay says, dryly.
"From now on when he gets out of hand bring him to me or one of the nurses and he'll be read scripture and talked to gently for at least an hour or until he calms his mind. We simply need to guide him," The Prince says, kindly.
"That's fair," I say.
"Oh, you're letting him torture the child and not me?" Courtenay says, genuinely hurt.
"What kind of priest even are you?!" I groan.
"The word of god is all he needs. It's not a fault to have a temper. God gave it to him he just needs to learn to use his strength properly. I'll be happy to sit and read with him when I've the time; he is our cousin," Prince Harry says, going back to his book on the table.
"Did he just refer to himself in the plural?" Courtenay asks me.
"Yeah, he did, we're not gonna worry about that right now, since you're apparently kidnapping people, again," I say.
"The Exeter is not a people, Gideon."
"What are you talking about—? He's literally our cousin, are we not cousins somehow, Archbishop?" Prince Harry asks, looking up.
"No," Courtenay says, horrified, like he isn't already on the Lancaster Family Christmas card.
"I thought you were—? Isn't that how father knows you?" Prince Harry asks.
"No," Courtenay says. He's a nobody, his father was a land holder or something of that kind, a little money, but he's not nobility. In all technicality his family line can be traced back to Edward I, but at this point in history that hardly makes him nobility of any note. His father and grandfather both were knights under Edward III and the Black Prince, got some money and such for that. They have a castle, like one, and some land so we're talking like, important in Devon where they're from. His great great grandmother was a daughter of Edward I, that's it. So like Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice level nobility he's got a castle but his mother and sisters will also live there unless anyone marries, sure he's independently rich from land and inheritance, compared to the likes of say me or Owen Tudor. But not in comparison to nobility. He hardly socialized with his royal eighteenth cousins growing up. Fun fact both his father and grandfather were like, minor criminals, embezzling and the like his father got arrested for a period, Richard II wound up pardoning him but fining him. Anyway, long winded way of saying technically he's got a bit of royal blood but absolutely nothing to write home about.
"Well, how did you come to know my father then if you're not a cousin like everyone else he's friends with?" Prince Harry asks, frowning. He's meaning Mortimer, Exeter, and every Beaufort ever born, Yorks, as well as the Stafford family, and the like, all of whom are within seven degrees of separation from the Lancaster family. It is so big he had every reason to be genuinely surprised he wasn't a cousin at least by marriage. Basically everyone is at this point.
"We studied at Oxford together, I wanted in to look at some ancient manuscripts and he heard them denying me access, and he got us in as he was crown prince," Courtenay says, which is honestly a very sweet meet-cute. I can just imagine Courtenay age ten or something, little nerdy thing in his too big priest robes, quietly asking to get in. Then the tall, charming crown prince talks them in just because he can.
"Oh. That's actually quite nice. I'll have to mark it down. I do talk with father about charity to strangers even if he doesn't expect things in return and I'll use that as an example about how we got you," Prince Harry says.
"Ah, pretty sure he expected things in return," I mutter. I am sure Courtenay was equally good looking then. Joking, I think Henry is the only person not aware of that, in reality he probably was intrigued by someone his age close to as smart as he is. Also Courtenay's intriguing family history meant he was well versed in cooking account books, a skill Henry leapt on weaponizing. Few people in any century read or add as quickly as Henry, Courtenay is a rare find.
"Well, I'll note it down anyway. What was our topic?" Prince Harry asks, legit going to a notebook where apparently he writes down nice things his father did to praise him about. He turns to the first page which does not have a lot of writing on it.
"I found an amulet that will let us trap Kit," I say, holding up the box. Courtenay reaches for it and I jerk it back.
"You're very immature," the Archbishop says, like a little hurt, as though this trick worked on him a lot in the 1400s version of middle school.
"Yes, I enjoy it," I say, pleasantly, "So, this allows us to trap a ghost, which is Kit. However. It doesn't solve the problem. And my agent has told me that it's going to take a lot of magic to keep this thing closed."
"So it traps him temporarily," Courtenay says.
"Exactly. And as we just discussed I am not a fan of just imprisoning people," I say.
"No, we should talk with this man and reason with him," Prince Harry says, "Surely we can reconcile whatever wrongs he thinks I've done him?"
"All right, what are you suggesting?" Courtenay asks, "A year ago you did try to talk with him and he forced you to kill him."
"I'm suggesting I enter the amulet with him. All this is tied back to the Beggar's Tomb which he got cursed by. Anytime he gets fatally injured he goes back there," like a save point. But I need a better analogy, "It just—it automatically claims him. If you trap us both in the amulet, then perhaps I can go with him. Break the curse once and for all. And then maybe he won't want to harm us anymore. And even if he does he loses the Beggar's Tomb as his constant re spawn point."
"Yes, I agree, let's try to help him! Father will agree as well," Prince Harry says, quickly.
"The King will definitely agree to trap Saint in the amulet," Courtenay says, dryly.
"Very funny. That's why we're doing this in the presence of Prince Harry, who won't let you leave me in there," I growl.
"I wouldn't. Permanently," Courtenay says, the last part quietly.
"Two hours. After that if I haven't broken the curse I want to get out. Prince Harry if they argue with you or said they let me out, but you haven't seen me, I need you to write Oisin, he'll be at Harlech, ask him to come," I say.
"I will," Prince Harry nods, "I'll tell father. He knows you're helping us."
"And he likes to mess with me. It's cool I'm still personally honored to be in the great Henry Rex's personal burn book, however," I shrug, "I'm not interested in being trapped in that amulet. I actually have to return that to where I borrowed it."
"Right, no, Archbishop, it is of the utmost importance Gideon returns that," Prince Harry says, quickly, nodding that he follows that I got it from the 1300s.
"Understood," Courtenay says, icily, definitely fully planning on trapping me in it.
"Here," I hand it to him, "It's a puzzle, takes a moment to complete the maze with magic, which is okay you do that while I keep Kit still, then trap us both in it."
"I'll manage. Do you have any idea how much strength it will take to keep it closed?" Courtenay asks.
"None whatsoever," I shrug, "I'm guessing a lot, though. That'll be fun for you."
"Yes, definitely," Courtenay says, dryly.
"I take it there's been no trouble while I was gone?" I ask.
"None, about that," Prince Harry says, gently, "I do believe we should arrange the next interaction. We do know this ghost will come again."
"You're suggesting luring him out," I say.
"If he's spying on us, in some capacity, and I'm the target," Prince Harry shrugs a little, "I ought to be the bait. Lay a trap. Tonight. All of us go out to the woods beyond the palace and I'll pretend to be alone. That way no innocent people are hurt."
"No, your father will never agree," Courtenay says.
"He doesn't have to. I'll walk out of the palace alone and he can corporate or not. But my siblings are here as well as my entire household I will not have them put in danger on my behalf," the prince says, bravely.
"We won't let anything happen to you," I say, nodding. He's right. There's no reason to just wait out for a confrontation in the palace.
"We'll ask the King when he returns," Courtenay says, holding the amulet, "If that's our plan, then I'm sure you have other places to be, Saint?"
I don't, but I take a hint and depart to go and find my Welsh friends, who I'd prefer are far from the action anyway. Over lunch, I brief them in detail about what has transpired here, and then warn Rhiannon of what I learned in the past. She and I can't really be alone here, but I succeed in getting Dancer to help me get everyone else to leave so we can chat. It takes a solid ten minutes of explaining the time stuff but unfortunately that's necessary prep work. But she is the one who says we shouldn't have me summarize.
"You just had four, fifteen minute each, digressions about Edward III's reign, before you got to the part where my children are in it?" She asks.
"Yeah, all that was important to set the scene also it makes me happy so I'm legally obligated to share all that and they are/will be perfectly fine just like write something down so in seventeen years I also go become actively involved in that situation," I nod, putting my fist in my mouth.
"I don't know what I expected. You're right; of course they wind up doing that," she says, hand on her belly.
I shrug a little, "That is how you got me."
"Fair enough. And what are you doing this evening again?"
"Letting Courtenay trap me in a box with a killer."
"Goddamn it, Gideon."
Evening draws slowly. Naturally King Henry agrees to the plan, he's even fine about letting Prince Harry be the bait, largely based on the logic that if Kit is really after Harry, then that's the best way to lure him out. They ready some sorcerers as well as knights to go with us. Then all that's left to do is wait.
Our Welsh party and the other guests have to mingle and be polite. Rhiannon does look pregnant but despite asking the question she does not apparently want an honest answer. I mingle a little, then get sick of all the noise of the chatter and go do what I do best, skulk in darkened hallways and stay out of the way of the servants. I am tempted to become invisible. I like becoming invisible. But, I'm trying to save my strength so I just go about good old fashioned skulking.
I figure I ought to try to find the kids. Little Henry Holland was awfully sad and I hope Courtenay hasn't gotten to him again. Even if he is a bit crazy. Poor child. He can't help it his brain is hardwired for evil.
I find him and Edmund Tudor outside, playing with wooden swords and clearly entertained. The Duke of Exeter is watching and coaching them. So they're having fun that's good. I like that we're all supposed to be inside but the Exeter figured even the Devil is afraid of the Exeters so he took his kid out to play anyway.
No sign of Jasper though. I don't find him till I'm winding my way through one of the back stairs. The little boy is sitting at the top of the stairs, hugging his knees, clearly been crying. I am about to go to him when I hear more steps on the stairs and pause.
Prince Harry is coming down book in hand. He visible stiffens when he sees the child crouched on the stairs, face wet with tears. Face with that obvious birthmark. I did warn Harry, but now that only identifies Jasper all the more. Harry's face is visibly strained, as though he wants to be sick again at the sight of his mother's bastard.
"My lord," Jasper stumbles to his feet and bows quickly and a bit awkwardly before his older brother.
Harry's face softens, he kneels down, carefully, studying his little brother's face. "Why are you crying?" The prince murmurs, softly.
Jasper shrugs a little bit. He's been told not to speak of his mum, "I don't know, my lord."
"I miss her too," Harry says, tears in his eyes.
Jasper nods a little bit, crying more.
"Come here, I miss her too," Harry says, hugging him stiffly, "You can say you miss your mum. Don't you ever forget her."
Jasper whimpers a bit and sobs into Harry's soft shirt, and Harry squeezes the much smaller boy tightly, brushing his hair back out of his face.
I turn to go. They'll be all right. How did I still doubt Harry's sweet heart? Of course he's being kind to his brothers. They miss their mother, yes. But they'll make it. He and Jasper will anyway, in the end.
Now for tonight. God I hope this works.