Spectred Isle (Green Men #1)(74)

The scream came from everywhere at once. It ripped through Saul’s head, and blood, and hair, and he dropped to the ground as though his tendons had been cut, curling into a ball, vaguely aware he was dangerously near the well mouth but unable to move. The sound shrieked from below and above and around and through, the whole of Camlet Moat convulsing with agony as sky and earth shook with the impact of the single bullet.

And then it stopped.

Saul uncurled, eardrums throbbing, and looked up to see the baffled, distorted face of a fen-grendel shaking its head about a foot away. He yelled and hurled himself back, and a knife buried itself in the creature’s skull with a meaty thud. The grendel fell sideways, and then Randolph was there, on his knees by Saul. “Saul. Dear one. Are you all right?”

“I think so.”

“Good man. Stay out of the way while we mop up the stragglers.” Randolph leaned over to retrieve the knife with a tug and a squelch. “And when we have time, remind me to tell you that you’re marvellous.”

He stalked off, knife in hand. Saul looked after him, bewildered, and saw Sam holding the flashlight and rubbing at his ear.

“That was loud. Well done, old chap. It seems you did the trick.”

“For now.”

“That’s all we can usually hope for.” Sam extended a hand. Saul took it and regained his feet. “I suggest you and I stay here in case anything else comes up through that well. Barney and Max can do all the mayhem required up there, if there’s a finite number of the damn things.”

“What about Randolph?”

“I’d let him relieve his feelings a bit. It’ll do him a power of good.”

“And what about Major Peabody?” Saul asked. “Where on earth— I can’t see his body.”

Sam ran the flashlight beam over the churned earth, and made a face. “It’s possible they ate him. Poor old chap. Bloody fool.”

“Yes.” Saul looked around at the fallen tree, the churned earth, the well mouth. “And the Moat? That is—well, what happens now?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, Walker. You tell me.”





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


“SO THIS ROOM WILL BE yours,” Sam said. “I’m at the front of the house on this floor. Barney and Max are both upstairs, but I wouldn’t go wandering up willy-nilly. And if you do go up and their doors are bolted, do not let them out.” Saul blinked. Sam gave him a rueful grin. “Just in case. Anyway, I hope it suits. Feel free to put up shelves or pictures or what-have-you, or to claim furniture from the unused rooms. We have a lot.”

The bedroom was a larger and more comfortable room than any Saul had slept in for years, barring that one night in the Albany with Randolph. This wasn’t comparable, of course, but it was good-sized, plainly decorated, and solidly furnished with inexpensive pieces from the middle of the previous century. A desk, a couple of old but comfortable-looking armchairs by the fire, and a large iron-framed double bed.

“Thanks,” he said, feeling the word’s inadequacy. “I can’t help feeling I’m imposing horribly.”

“Not at all. It’s much easier having us all together, and you’re one of us, like it or not.”

“It’s an honour,” Saul said. “However— Look, I’m afraid we haven’t discussed rent. Randolph rather dragooned me here and what with all the upheaval, I didn’t think.”

He couldn’t have declined the invitation to move to Fetter Lane even had he wished. Major Peabody was dead; Saul had no savings, no prospects, no job in any conventional sense, and no time to do one even if he could get such a thing due to the weight of responsibility that had descended on him. Camlet Moat had to be repaired, the stolen thing reclaimed. Finding the rent was, Randolph had decided for him, an unnecessary distraction.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Sam said. “Randolph’s rich as Croesus, all the family money for umpteen generations—”

“Randolph does not pay for me,” Saul said rather crisply.

“Hold your horses. As I was saying: Randolph is rolling in it, and this is what he does. He supports the Green Men in London because it’s a full-time job now and we all need to eat and dress. The house belongs to Jo, my sibling, so no need to fret about rent, and there’s a monthly stipend for everybody. Including Barney and Max although they aren’t Green Men as such, and including you because you are. Good luck finding time to spend it.” He gave Saul a wry smile. “You’re the Walker of Camlet Moat; you don’t need any additional difficulties. Er, on which subject...”

“Yes?” Saul said cautiously.

“Well, just that nobody will give a damn if Randolph’s here for breakfast, or indeed if you’re not. What I mean is, feel free to conduct your personal business as you choose. Obviously one can’t invite just anyone back here, as a matter of everyone’s privacy, not to mention the stuff that tends to be lying around, so guests need to be chosen with care. But amongst us, it’s Liberty Hall. Is that all right?”

“Uh, yes. Perfectly.” Saul knew his face was scarlet. “That’s extremely decent of you.”

“I’d call it the bare minimum. Anyway, we’d all like to see Randolph happy, if only because he doesn’t half spread it around when he’s not.”