The Eighth Court (The Courts of the Feyr - By Mike Shevdon Page 0,141

with the other while Lesley and Dave came through. The baby stared around wide-eyed at this sudden change of mood, but at least he wasn’t yelling. Maybe even he knew how serious their situation was.

“Find something to block the door,” said Blackbird to Dave, pushing the door closed behind them.

“Will it stop them?” asked Dave.

“No,” said Blackbird.

“Then why bother?” said Lesley.

“Because it’ll give you something to do, and me time to think,” said Blackbird.

She stared around the room in the limited light coming in through the tall leaded windows. There was a large tallboy, and a wardrobe, but not big enough to hide any of them. Hiding wouldn’t work in any case. The fireplace was cold, there wasn’t even any kindling. How anyone was supposed to have lit a fire in here, she couldn’t imagine, but that was the National Trust for you. History could freeze to death as long as it looked pretty. The curtains were all very nice, but they looked too heavy to make a decent rope, even assuming there would be no one at the bottom waiting for them to climb down.

“Damn!” she said.

The bed was large, but not much use as a weapon. The chandelier looked substantial enough for someone to swing on it, assuming they were cavalier enough to try.

“We should have gone to the kitchen,” she said. “At least there would be knives in the kitchen.”

Lesley and Dave moved a chest of drawers in front of the door. Blackbird put the baby on the bed and went to the door. As soon as she put the baby down, he started crying, initially a hesitant whimpering, but rapidly ramping up to a full-blown yell. Concentrating for a moment, she sealed the door. That would give them a little time.

Lesley picked up the baby and started rocking him, but he would not be placated. Blackbird took him back, and he quietened a little, sobbing into her shoulder.

“There, there, little one.” She wanted to assure him it would all be OK, but she really wasn’t sure it would. Above them there was a dull boom that shook the house, followed by a noise which sounded like rats running through the walls. Her senses told her that fire was blossoming above them.

“What the hell was that?” asked Dave.

“Nothing good, you can be assured,” said Blackbird, looking up.

The door handle rattled, followed by a heavy thump as something hit it hard.

“Dave,” said Blackbird. “Pull the curtains down, Use them to climb down the outside and get Lesley away.”

Dave went to the window and started furiously tugging at the curtains.

“What about you?” said Lesley.

“I’m the reason they’re here,” said Blackbird. “They’re not going to allow me to leave.”

“But the baby,” said Lesley. “What about little William?”

“Get yourself out,” said Blackbird. “When you’re safe, I’ll follow you down.” What she didn’t say was, if you can get down.

Dave rattled the window open, and pushed it wide to the night air. The cold rushed into the room, chilling it further. He’d got the curtain loose but was now having trouble finding anything to secure it to.

“This is not going to make very good rope,” he said.

“Use the bed to anchor it,” said Blackbird. “It’s heavy enough.” The door thumped again, and then again, as whoever was on the other side became more determined.

“This doesn’t work,” said Dave.

“I know,” said Blackbird. “It’s the wrong sort of material. Can you smell smoke? Is that coming from outside?”

“Then why the f…” said Dave.

At that moment the doorframe split from the wood panelling of the wall and the edge of the door splintered inwards. “Knock, knock!” said Raffmir, from beyond the door.

“Step out of the way,” said Blackbird.

“What are you talking about?” said Lesley. “What do you think you are doing?”

“I’m doing what I must,” said Blackbird. “I’m ordering you as Steward of the Eighth Court to stand aside.” She stood up straight, lifted her chin, and patted the baby’s back gently. “There, there, honey,” she said.

“But Blackbird…” said Lesley.

“Dave, move her out of the way. It’s me he wants.” Blackbird flinched as the door crunched and split under the force of his blows.

“At least give me the baby,” said Lesley. “At least give me little William.” Dave was drawing her back towards the window, but she pulled against him.

“He wants William too,” said Blackbird. “It’s what they’re here for.”

Raffmir grabbed the edge of the splintered door and wrenched it, breaking it in two and tossing the pieces over the gallery banister into the hall